#I'm sure this has already been done now many times but this is my contribution

[uldren-sobs]

Baby cats, very pog

[whaledenwtf]

Professor!Gale x Reader - Extra Credit

Oh yeah, its all coming together. I really like the idea of Professor Dekarios and I find teachers really hot (and so is Gale). Also, since this is a student teacher scenario, I imagine the age difference to be about 10 years, with you being around 25 and Gale being 35. Both legal and consenting adults. So many people have already contributed to this scenario and I decided to try!! Hope I do this hot wizard justice. :)

AO3 LINK: Here

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: Here (MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN PLEASE REQUEST STUFF)

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Body Worship ( Female Receiving), Squirting (hehe), Creampie, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex on a desk (you're welcome), Praise Kink, Power Imbalance, CONSENSUAL Teacher and Student Dynamic, Slight Angst, Speaks of Academic Anxiety and Fear of Failure

My priority is always trying to keep the characters as close to their in-game personality as possible!!

WORD COUNT: 6892

You have been attending Blackstaff for the last couple of years. Nothing was truly noteworthy in that time, until your last semester of your last year. You were a flourishing wizard, excelling in every class. Until you were seated in his class.

In your first day of class with Professor Dekarios, you were taken aback by his good looks. You were so used to old stuffy wizards for professors that you could never fathom them to be young, and attractive. You were distracted by his looks, and then his knowledge. He's well-read, and holds the interest of all his students. You knew that most of your classmates were attracted to the wizard, but you felt so incredibly awkward sitting in his class spending the majority of it fantasizing about him.

"Here are your current marks in my course. Most of you are excelling-" He gives a pointed glare to the backrow of the class, who are all giggling at his attention. "But for those who find their grades are... less than subpar, you can speak to me after class or in my office hours." Your hands brush when he hands you your grade, and your heart speeds up a bit. After everyone has received their grade, you hear groans of exasperation and gasps of elation. Flipping over the paper, your eyes widen.

A-

This can't be right you think to yourself, questioning what you have done to slip from your perfect A+ average. Logically speaking, you knew this wouldn't kill you outright, but it sure felt like it would.

"Now, we will continue today's lesson with the history of the evocation spell Green-Flame Blade. Interestingly, the spell's origins come from-" His voice drowns out. Your heart thumps loudly in your ears. You felt... anxious; confined and claustrophobic. You feel a minor tremor go through your body. You snap out of it, and look up to see everyone packing up to leave. How long was I not listening? You ask yourself. You felt guilty, your wandering mind has allowed you to lose track on your priorities. You couldn't fail. You had to succeed, and push yourself further than you have ever had in your life. The line to speak to Professor Dekarios was not as long as you expected, but your anxiety had slowly increased with every second you were left waiting. Once the person in front of you had left, you step closer to his desk, shy and nervous.

"Ah, Miss (Y/N)! How can I help you today?" He is standing behind his desk, slightly bent over so he could lean over it.

"I wanted to speak to you about my grade, Professor Dekarios." He furrows his brows.

"You're grade? I'm surprised, considering you are my best student-" He shuffles closer to you, conspiratorially. "Between me and you, the entire class has an average of C+. You're the student who I see the most potential in." You blush at the words. You were surprised that you were his best student, considering the many talented and intelligent peers you were surrounded with. You find it difficult to believe the course average is a C+.

"I want to know if there is anything to raise my grade. I find this to be unacceptable, and wish to boost my grade." You whisper quietly. He hums.

"You remind me of myself when I was a young wizard. Despite the fact I excelled, I felt the need to better... the best." You've heard the rumours about your professor. He was once Mystra's Chosen, and the whirlwind romance was all anyone could talk about. One doesn't simply get chosen without reason; you had to have unimaginable potential and have such an understanding of the Weave that Mystra herself would welcome you.

"I remind you of yourself?" He hums in affirmation. He begins packing his things, before glancing up at you.

"You think that this grade is the end of your world. That the universe itself will implode around you." He states it as though he read your mind, and you wonder if he casted detect thoughts on your mind. "I see no issue with your grade, (Y/N). In all my years of teaching, you're the first student who even reached an A grade in any of my courses. You're an intelligent, talented wizard." You shake your head, frowning.

"Please, Professor Dekarios. Let me prove myself to you." He finishes packing up, before standing at full height and rubbing his beard.

"Well, perhaps I can find something that would be stimulating enough for your caliber." You smile wide then, and squeal.

"Oh thank you! Thank you! I won't let you down." He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Come to my office hours later tonight and we can further discuss what can be done." You nod, your cheeks straining from how wide your smile was.

"I'll see you then." You begin to walk away from his desk, picking up your things. As you walk out of his class, you turn around to look at him again. He is turned away from you, and you admire him from a distance. You cross the threshold of the door, head held high. You will prove yourself.

You were grateful that you could change out of the Blackstaff uniform you were forced to wear. You were in a blouse and skirt, with your Blackstaff cloak around your shoulders. You knock on the door of his office, nervous and excited.

"Come in." Despite being muffled, you could tell it was him. You open the door slowly, before walking in and closing the door behind you.

"Hi Professor Dekarios." He smiles up at you from his seat, waving over to the two armchairs infront of his desk.

"Take a seat, Miss (Y/N)." You go to sit down.

"You can just call me (Y/N)." You tell him, biting your lip. His eyes glance to your lips for a moment before connecting your gazes.

"Alright, (Y/N). I went ahead and took the liberty of getting your transcript and I must say I am truly impressed." You glance down to his hands to see him holding a piece of parchment. "I had not realized I had such a prodigal individual in my class, though I am not surprised. You have exceeded my expectations for what I see in students. I can say with certainty that we are more alike than I originally thought." You blush at his words, the praise from his lips making your heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you, Professor." He leans forward, to once again look over your transcript.

"That being said, imagine my surprise in seeing your transcript! Your grades are extraordinary. In both theory and practical courses you've achieved top grades." You hum as a response, nodding. His eyes snap up to yours, and you get struck by his beauty. In the light of his office, his eyes are a chocolate-brown. Despite having the most common eye colour, on him they seem well-placed. Perfect.

"Is there anything that may be affecting you outside of your studies? You may be my best student but I can tell your mind wanders elsewhere during my course." You blush and look down.

"My mind often wanders, and I am sorry about that." He hums, rubbing his beard in thought.

"Is there any issues at home? A particularly distracting significant other?" Your head snaps up at his words. He is watching you intently, his attention on you completely.

"Oh- um. No. No family to have issues with, and no relationship to be distracted by. Just me and my wandering mind." You see him exhale, and the tension in his shoulders leaves.

"Alright." He sounds pleased at the information. "Well, there isn't anything I can do regarding previous grades as they are already in the system-" You whimper, eyes watering. He stands to crouch next to where you are seated. He places a hand on your arm, rubbing it in a comforting matter.

"Please don't cry. I'm not particularly good at handling beautiful crying women. " You turn to look at him in shock.

"I'm sorry professor-" He cuts you off, still rubbing your arm.

"Please call me Gale." You nod, looking down. He goes to stand, knees cracking.

"However-" Your eyes snap up. "I may be able to give you an additional assignment that can boost your grade. Like I said, you're my top student and you don't need much to boost such a grade." In your excitement, you jumped up and hugged him.

"Oh thank you Gale! I won't let you down." His arms wrap around you as he chuckles.

"You can't disappoint me." He says with certainty. You look up at him blushing. His eyes glance down at your lips. After a breathe, you move away from him, biting your lip. He coughs, trying to clear the atmosphere.

"What do you need for the assignment?" He ponders this for a moment.

"As an exception, I'll accept anything. Whether that be a written assignment, practical application or otherwise." You smile.

"I can do that." He smiles at you, and you blush at his radiance.

"Perfect! As long as it is done before the final grades are processed the grade will be adjusted and your transcript unaffected." You nod excitedly.

"I'm forever in your debt, Gale." He waves you off.

"Pish-posh. Just trying to help." You turn to walk to the door, but before you can step further he grabs your hand gently. Your head snaps back to him.

"Please do not hesitate to speak to me if you need anything else." He squeezes your hand before letting go, and you've never felt such an acute sense of loss.

"Thank you. I may take you up on that offer." He smiles down at you.

"Take care of yourself (Y/N)." You nod, before leaving his office. You felt a sense of excitement, and were grateful for Gale's ability to bend the rules for you. You will not let him down.

The next time you see Gale was in class the next week. You decided to apply yourself further, and made it a personal goal to answer more questions and be part of more discussions. You can feel the ire from your classmates, but you ignore them in favour of basking in the validation and praise from Gale. "Very good, (Y/N)! The application of Mage Hand can be used only outside of combat! However, it can be used to pick up weapons. I remember once when-" He cuts himself off when a student raises their hand. You turn to look at the student, who you remember was one of the girls who usually interrupts class.

"So can we use it in the bedroom?" She asks flirtatiously. Her friends all giggle around her. You roll your eyes and look at Gale. He coughs to cover his shock.

"I-um. It can be." You smirk at his reply. His eyes glance at you and the side of his lips quirk up.

"Do you have any experience using it, professor?" He blushes.

"I don't think that's an appropriate question regarding the lesson." She sighs. Before anyone can speak up, the bell rings and people get up from their desks and leave. You walk up to Gale, holding your notebook. There are still some people in the class, wandering and speaking to eachother

"Hi Ga-Professor." He smiles at you.

"Hi (Y/N). How can I help?" He asks as he packs up his things.

"I have decided on what to do for the assignment." He perks up at your words.

"Wonderful! May I ask what you plan on doing?" You grin.

"It will be a surprise, but I will be casting a spell! No written assignment." He closes his bag and stands to his full height.

"I'm excited for your practical prowess. When do you plan on showing me this incredible act?" You think for a moment.

"Anytime that works with you." He nods to the door, silently asking you to follow him. You follow next to him as he speaks.

"I do not have any other commitments today." You bite your lip.

"Me neither." He opens the door for you, waving you to walk in front of him. You bow jokingly, before walking ahead of him. You both laugh as you walk out.

The walk to his office is filled with varying topics of conversation. From his Tressym, Tara, to topics regarding spells and their origins. You were slightly disappointed when you arrive to his office door, saddened by the end of your conversation. Once again, he opens the door and lets you in first.

"Let's get started! You are keeping me at the edge of my seat." He lays his things down before standing next to you.

"I've decided that I will be casting a spell above what you have taught us." His eyebrows jump up his forehead.

"Which spell?" He asks, curiously. You lay your things down, and raise your hands into position.

"Astral Projection." You tell him confidently. His jaw drops.

"Holy hells. Are you sure you will be able to cast it? What about the hour long casting time? Have you considered-" You cut him off as you begin the hand gestures.

"I've been concentrating for the last hour. I've also successfully casted this spell multiple times." You tell him. He leans forward on his desk, watching you intently. You begin to mutter the cast, the Weave flowing through you like water in a river. You look directly in his eyes as you mutter the last word, and then you feel yourself floating. Once you feel the ground under your feet, you look next to you and see Gale in awe.

"Phenomenal! You executed the spell perfectly- furthermore you concentrated during our conversation. I've never been so impressed by such a feat!" He tells you, his voice echoing in the astral plane. You grin at him.

"Did I pass?" You ask coquettishly. He laughs out loud, looking at the outline of his body.

"Pass? I'm considering sending a strongly worded letter to the Dean to have you graduate right away!" You laugh out loud. He walks forward, looking at the area in interest.

"Are you able to transport us into a different realm?" He asks excitedly. You giggle at his enthusiasm. He smiles at you.

"Of course. I have a place in mind!" You close your eyes, casting a silent spell. When you open them, you find yourself in your bedroom.

"Is this your bedroom?" He asks curiously. You nod, smiling.

"It is my safe haven. It's where I first casted most of my spells, and successfully astral projected for the first time." He walks around, looking at the stacks of books and trinkets with interest.

"It suits your style." He says gently. You blush at his words. He sits down on your bed, taking a book into his hands.

"Death and Divinity: A Godly Guide. Interesting tome." He tells you. You sit next to him, taking the tome in your hand.

"I was curious about death. It takes so much from us, and will take us too, one day." You tell him quietly, explaining how the tome got into your possession. He hums, placing a hand on yours.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." He says sadly. You turn to look at his profile, and see a sadness that seems exhaustive.

"Life gives us a lot. But it can also take. You're stronger than I am, especially after all you dealt with." You tell him as you squeeze his hand. His thumb caresses your hand gently.

"I am no stronger than any other man." He replies, looking at you.

"I find it difficult to believe that." You whisper to him. His eyes glance at your lips again.

"I'm afraid I am no different than any other. Quite ordinary." You glance at his lips, leaning closer.

"Nothing about you is ordinary, Gale Dekarios." He leans closer, and his lips graze yours. You drop the tome on the floor and grip him closer to you, basking in the comfort and warmth of his kiss. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands moving to grip your face as his tongue explores your mouth. You moan, leaning further into him. After a moment you separate, gasping out.

"I am so sorry." Gale apologizes profusely, standing. You stand with him, smoothing your hands down your clothes.

"Do not apologize. It's my fault." You tell him, embarrassed.

"I am the one who went further. I will be honest, (Y/N). You've captivated me. You are a constant in my thoughts. I apologize for being so unprofessional." Your heart sings at his words. You take his face into your hands and pull him into a kiss.

"The only reason I was distracted in your course was because I think of you. You occupy my thoughts- and I cannot stop." You tell him earnestly. His eyes widen.

"O-oh." You pull away to grip his hands.

"I'm sorry Gale. I understand this will only cause you problems. I can transfer course-"

"Absolutely not. Despite the fact that I am your professor, I can not imagine you removing yourself from my course. I- I do not want to let you go now that you are in my reach, and in my grasp." He tells you as he leans in, his breath fanning across your lips. He kisses you again, passionately. The back of your knees hit your bed, and you fall over. He climbs over you, still kissing you. As his hands begin to roam, your concentration snaps, and you find yourselves in his office.

The fantasy was ripped from you both. You are panting, eyes wide as you stared at your professor.

"I-" You start, breathless. He takes two steps forward, pupils blown wide.

"Please." He whispers. You wait for a moment, before the urge is too strong. You pull him down to kiss you, moaning and gasping into his lips. You open your mouth, and he spares no time in exploring it. Your tongues dance around each other, exploring and absorbing the other. You pull away when you hear footsteps outside the door. You jump from him as they get closer. You rush to hide under his desk, grateful that nobody could see you from the other side. The doorknob shifts, and someone walks in.

"Hi Professor Dekarios~" You frown as you hear the voice of that student who interrupted class today.

"To what do I owe the-" he harrumphs. "pleasure?" the way he said it with such disdain makes you smile.

"I heard another student speaking about an extra assignment and was wondering if it would be possible for me to have one as well?" You don't hear anything for a moment, but you assume Gale waved her over to the chair in front of his desk as you see his feet shuffle closer to you.

"I suppose I can do so. What did you have in mind?" He asks her as he sits down, trying to not kick you.

"I can think of a couple of things I can do to boost my grade." She says huskily. You bite your tongue, trying not to groan at her words.

"Well I am all ears." Gale tells her. You smile at his inability to understand her intentions.

"Well... We are here, in your office... alone." You can hear her lean forward by the way the chair creaks.

"Yes?" He asks her unsure. You stifle a giggle in your hand, which she didn't hear. He had heard your giggle, and nudged you with the toe of his shoe.

"I can do anything you like. Some have said I'm good with my mouth." He coughs out, and from your angle you see his eyes are wide like saucers.

"A-are you insinuating that- Absolutely not! I will have to send a letter to the Dean of the academy to have you cease your studies immediately-"

"B-but Professor-" She squeals out. He goes to stand.

"Not only is that incredibly disrespectful and unprofessional, but you make a mockery of wizardry itself. Leave now-" He says angrily, before pausing. "please." He ends softly. You hear her sobs as she runs out, the door slamming behind her. He sighs as he goes to lock the door. Once you hear the click of the lock, you make your way out from under his desk.

"I am sorry you had to hear that-" You wave him off.

"Do not apologize to me." He exhales loudly, rubbing a hand over his face which looked tired all of a sudden. You pick up your things which were hidden in the corner of the room.

"Are you leaving?" He asked sadly. You turn to him, biting your lip.

"I understand you have a lot on your plate, Gale. I do not want to add to it-" You walk towards him, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "But I also do not want to overstay my welcome after such a situation. It doesn't change what I said and how I feel." You reassure him. He closes his eyes, running his fingers through his hair.

"I feel the need to apologize for ruining the moment-" You cut him off, taking his face into your hand and caressing it with your thumb. His eyes flutter open, eyes gazing into you with tenderness.

"There will be many more moments. If you'd like-" You take a random sheet of paper from your notebook and scribble on it before tearing it off and giving it to him. "Here is my address. Send me a pigeon or come visit me." You graze his lips once more, before pulling away and unlocking the door. You turn to glance at him once more, and see he is holding the paper, rubbing his lips softly. You blush and turn away, heading home for the day.

That night, as you are sitting on your couch and reading a novel you hear a knock at the door. Your bare feet patter against the hardwood of your floors. You open the door to see Gale standing there, holding a bottle of wine and a bag full of books.

"Oh! Hi Gale." You usher him in, closing the door behind him as he toes off his shoes.

"I understand you probably did not mean I could come over tonight, but I had to see you again." He tells you. You blush at his words, before taking the items from his hands.

"You are welcome any time. Please, take a seat. I was just reading." You usher him to the couch, where he takes a seat and looks around your home, interested.

"I brought a bottle of wine and some literature. I thought you would enjoy it." He tells you shyly. You grin at him, and he is struck by your beauty.

"I don't need anything to enjoy your presence, Gale. The thought is appreciated regardless. Let me get us some glasses so we can enjoy it together." He nods at you, smiling. As you walk to the kitchen, you ponder the day over in your head. You were in awe of what transpired today; between you admitting your feelings for your professor, to him reciprocating those feelings! From the student who over imposed, to your perfect cast of Astral Projection. It was a taxing day, and you are glad you could relax before tomorrow's sun rose.

As you walk back to your living room, you see Gale has stood and looked over your bookshelves.

"Are you impressed?" He jumps at your words, before turning around and smirking.

"Many of these tomes I have at home. Quite a collection you have here." You smile, putting down the two glasses on an end table next to the couch.

"Not as extensive as I wish, but I will hope to get there." He turns around to look further, before chuckling. He pulls out a slim novel, grinning.

"The Tale of Tadpoles and Illithids; Saving Baldur's Gate-" He smirks at you, as you blush. "Didn't think you were such a fan. Want an autograph?" He teases you. You snatch the book out of his hand, sticking your tongue out.

"Not my fault you are an accomplished wizard and author. I happen to enjoy reading all sorts of topics and... well... I was interested." You admit to him. He puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in, before kissing the top of your head.

"I am interested too- in you, of course." He says confidently, before rushing in to add that last part. You laugh at his fumble, leaning your chin on his chest to look up at him.

"Is that so?" You ask him lowly, biting your lip. His eyes follow the movement, and he exhales softly. Now in the privacy of your home, in your space, you feel confident and sure of your actions and words.

"I do." He whispers. You pull away from him, taking his hand in your own and tugging him to the couch.

"Let us enjoy good wine and great company." You tell him, smiling as he gets comfortable.

"Thank you for-" He harrumphs, blushing. "-for letting me in." You pour the wine into the glasses, handing him one. You edge yourself closer to him, the heat of his body warming you in different ways.

"Of course. I won't leave you outside. I extended an invitation for a reason." You lean against your hand, taking a sip of wine. You moan at the taste, your tongue swiping across your lips to catch any stray drops. He blushes into his glass, all of a sudden bashful.

"Was there anything in particular you wanted to speak about?" You ask him curiously, after a minute of silence. He looks down at the glass in his hand, swirling it around.

"I just wanted- no needed- to see you. I do not know how to traverse this path we laid out for ourselves... I mean, I am your professor! I cannot help wanting you in every way, and any way. Intellectually, spiritually, physically-" He ends huskily. You gulp a sip of wine, blushing into the glass. "You have taken my thoughts hostage, and I cannot help but be gravitated to you. You are phenomenal in ways I admire, and like a moth to a flame, I am magnetized." Your thigh bumps into his as you pull your legs up onto the couch.

"I am honoured that you think so highly of me. I can't help but feel concerned that you will realize I am not much. You've experienced so much, and I feel- no; I know- that I will come short of your expectations." You tell him honestly, sighing. His hand makes itself known on your thigh, his thumb caressing circles into the thin fabric of your lounge clothes.

"I cannot let you think for a moment that you will come short of any expectations I have. You've exceeded any and all expectations I have had in others for the longest time. You're absolutely radiant. Let me show you." His hand begins to move upwards. You bite your lip as your gaze trails from his hand, to his face. He was already watching you intently, looking for any sign of denial.

"Please." You whisper, echoing his words from earlier today. He stands to take both your glasses and sets them down, before crouching down in front of where you are seated on the couch.

"May I?" He whispers, looking up at you. You can't help but feel as though he was a worshipper, and you, his goddess. You felt a pang of adoration for him, and cannot help but understand what enthralled Mystra when she came upon him. He was utterly irresistible, and you were tired of resisting against him and his charm. You nod, swallowing in excitement. His hands caress your calves, going up and massaging your thighs. He takes his time, even laying soft kisses on the top of the fabric covering your thighs. His eyes glance up as he does so, taking in the small gasps and sighs of pleasure coming from your lips. He slowly tugs the fabric of your pants down, pulling them off your feet and folding it with a gentleness you admire.

You are already buzzing in excitement, pupils blown wide and hands gripping the fabric of your couch. When he looks up from his task, he is aroused at the fact you were parading around without any undergarments.

"You little minx. I cannot wait to devour you. Would you like that?" You moan, your hand going to his hair and tugging as you nod excitedly. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, before his hands go to your knees to spread you open. You whimper as he does so, and the groan he lets out when he sees you spread open for him is whorish.

"Look at the mess you have made for me. Such a good girl for me." He whispers into the skin of your inner thigh, his beard scratching you deliciously. You whimper at his words, one of your hands going up to your top to pull it up over your breasts so you could play with them.

"J-just for you." He moans as you speak, inhaling your scent. Your core pulsates at the action, your cunt tightening around nothing as your slick leaks out.

"You smell delicious. I know I will get drunk off the taste of you." He tells you before kissing your clit. You arch off the couch, your foot sliding up and finding purchase on his back. He curls his forearms under your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge of the couch, and the show of his strength makes you moan out his name. He begins to lick your lower lips, moaning into you at your taste.

"Gods, I have dreamt of this for months. I will make sure you cum on my tongue more than once tonight. Consider that a promise, sweetheart." He says into your core, eyes looking up at you.

The picture you painted was gorgeous, with blushing skin and half-lidded eyes. Your hand is holding your breast in your hand, playing and tugging with its peak. He keeps his gaze on you as he expertly explores your inner sanctum. You gasp, moan and whimper at every flick and swipe of his dexterous tongue, his name a prayer on your lips. His tongue prods at your entrance, as one of his hands spreads you open further. He thrusts into you with the appendage, as his nose bumps into your clit. He pulls away to suck the pearl, groaning at the sight of you arching painfully off the couch in pleasure. Your other hand finds itself in his hair, tugging on it and pushing him further into your cunt. You feel the coil in your lower belly snap, and you shout, your body almost split in half from the way you arch. You can feel your spend rush out of you, squirting and coating Gale's lower half of his face; you think even his shirt is drenched. You have minor convulsions of oversensitivity and Gale continues to lick you, groaning at your taste.

"O-oh. P-please ah. I'm sensitive." You whimper into the air, body hunched over. You felt like jelly. As your eyes come into focus, you see Gale looking at you with a dark look in his eyes.

"I promised more than once. I will deliver through with that promise. Be a good girl and hold your legs for me." You whimper, your arms limply moving to hold them up for him. His arms uncoil from your thighs to gather some of your slick from the inside of your thighs. He looks directly into your eyes as he licks up the spend, his tongue weaving through his digits. You whine, gyrating your hips. He chuckles at the movement, before taking two of his spit-riddled fingers and thrusting them into you. He groans at your tightness, scissoring his fingers to spread you open.

"You are so good for me. Want me to make you feel good?-" You nod, whimpering. "Such a good girl. Can't wait to make you scream my name again. This time I'll make you cum on my fingers." You never expected Gale to be so forward and... dirty. Hearing those words come from lips that brought you to another dimension of pleasure was nothing short of thrilling, and your body was already begging him for more. You nod, tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming need you felt for the man who spent the last twenty minutes worshipping your figure. He begins to thrust his fingers as his tongue laps up at your still sensitive clit. You knew you wouldn't last long with the way his tongue and fingers worked together to make you come apart for him.

Your hand finds itself back at the roots of his hair, tugging the strands. He groans at the action, kissing the side of your inner thigh as his eyes glitter with adoration.

"Gods. I do not know how I could ever let you go after tonight." He whispers. You suppose he was speaking to himself, but you heard him and you felt an overwhelming sense that your heart felt... full. You're not sure if it's the arousal, the adrenaline from the mind-blowing orgasm or something that is just Gale Dekarios, but you decided it was a dangerous feeling. Those three words made your tongue feel like lead, and his touch was distracting enough for you to only let out sounds rather than words. He started tracing letters on your clit, and you begin gyrating on his face again, his beard burning you slightly.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take what you need from me. Gods you are beautiful. I love seeing you like this." You gasp out when you hit your peak again, explosions behind your eyelids. You tightened around his fingers, whimpering and mumbling nonsense in your deliriousness. Your ears are ringing, and you just babble words. For a moment, he looks at you with shock before he gazes at you with adoration, petting your hair and kissing random parts of your body as you come down from your high. Once the last tremor goes through you and you can hear the world again, you look around and realize he is laying down under you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you struggle with the loss of time you faced.

"I-I never experienced... What happened?" You ask him, turning over so you were chest to chest. He chuckles at your questions, his hands caressing your back and arms.

"Not to toot my own horn, but you seemed very adamant in not coming back down from your high. Said such nonsensical things..." He whispered, kissing your lips. You fidget on his chest. your thigh bumping into his bulge as he groans.

"What did I say?" You whispered worriedly.

"You said you loved me-" You groan, hiding your face in his chest, which you now notice is shirtless. Just how much did you miss? "Now don't hide such a beautiful face-" His hand finds itself at the back of your neck, positioning you to look up at him. "I love you too, you know." He whispers, the hand at the nape of your neck pulling you forward into a passionate kiss. You felt overstimulated, between the kiss, your heightened adrenaline and the fact he laid his heart bare- you wanted to give yourself to him wholly. You pull away from his lips, hands on his chest so you could look down at him.

"I need you." You tell him blankly. His eyes widened.

"Do not feel the need to please me. What I did, I wanted to. I will never ask you to reciprocate." He tells you, his hand pushing away stray hairs and tucking them behind your ear.

"I don't remember stuttering, Professor Dekarios." In a sudden show of strength, he picks you up and lays you on the closest flat surface - your desk.

"Such a naughty girl." He tells you, groaning. As your back is laid flat on the desk, you spread your legs, biting your lip.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Your foot nudges the seam of his pants, toeing the button holding them up. He closes his eyes, biting his lip.

"If you continue that I will not last as long as I'd like." He tells you honestly, groaning. You pull your foot away, but he grabs it to kiss your calf. You smile up at him, as he gazes into your eyes adoringly.

"Gods. How lucky am I?" He whispers into your skin. You giggle, running a hand through his hair sweetly.

"I feel as though I'm the lucky one." You tell him, smile widening. His hand goes to the button of his pants, pulling it out of the loop. His pants fall, leaving him in his undergarments. He pulls those off too, leaving him completely bare. You raise yourself onto your elbows to admire him.

His physique was exquisite, with defined muscle and the perfect amount of hair. His chest had a light scattering of it, which then trailed down to his belly button before becoming coarser and showing a darkened happy trail, which was accentuated by his v-line. His trail goes lower until it reaches the base of his cock, as trimmed as the rest of him. What excited you, though, was his cock; it was like the rest of him- perfect. He was above average in length and girth, and the tip was flushed with pearls of precum leaking from his slit. He pumps himself once, then twice, before smirking down at you.

"Admiring what you see?" He asks cheekily. You bite your lip as your eyes trail back up to his face.

"I'd like a taste." You whisper sensually. He gulps loudly, before his hand goes to the back of his neck.

"Ah-That won't be necessary. I'd much rather bring you to the planes of ecstacy." You pout at his words.

"Next time I want to please you. Bring you passion." You respond. He smiles.

"Next time?" He's being cheeky again. You hum, taking your legs into your hand and bending in half to present yourself to him. Your hands are on the insides of your knees, and this angle shows your puffy and overstimulated pussy. He groans at the sight, and another pearl of precum leaks from his cock.

"Please... Gale. No more teasing." You whimper, watching as his hand strokes himself again. He nods, shuffling closer to you. He rubs the head of his cock against your slit, bumping into your clit. You jump at the touch, gasping. You then feel the tip of him go to your entrance, entering it slightly before pulling away.

"GA-" You couldn't even finish saying his name, as he bottoms out in one thrust, both of you moaning in unison. His thrusts are slow but deep, his girth stretching you to your max; and his length poking at your cervix. He thrusts slowly, his eyes gauging your reactions and what you like.

"M-more." You whisper. He begins to speed up, the friction between you both making lewd noises that fill the space. All you can hear in your living room is the slapping sounds of him thrusting into you, your pussy's wetness and the joined whimpers. He leans in closer to kiss you, his chest rubbing against your nipples. The change in angle also leads him to go deeper, his tip kissing your cervix much more roughly. You feel your end coming closer, your moans loud against his lips. He pulls away, looking at you with hooded eyes.

"Give it to me. Cum on my cock." He tells you roughly. You feel his fingers begin to rub tight circles around your clit. The coil snaps, and you cum around him, gasping his name repeatedly. As you ascend, Gale groans into your neck, your tightening walls bringing him to his end quickly. He stills, filling you with his seed. You both stay there, panting. As you descend from your highs, you feel yourself be lifted by Gale, who brings you to your bedroom.

He lays you on the bed, before going into multiple rooms. You hear him go aha! from your position on the bed. Lifting yourself onto your forearms, you see him walk back in with a cloth. He wipes you down gently, one hand on task and the other carding itself in your hair. Once he deems you clean enough, he lies next to you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses your forehead and sighs.

"Thank you." You tell him, curling into his embrace as you lay your head on his chest.

"For what?" He asks you curiously. You lean your head up to look into his eyes.

"For allowing me extra credit." He chuckles and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back sweetly, excited for what your future will look like now that he is in your life.

[tobiasdrake]

Guess I'll wrap things up in town and head to the re-sleepover.

Okay, last time I was here, I weirded out this child. This time, I'm gonna TRY. HARDER.

Jackpot. Children love puns about their favorite thing. Now this small child of no clear importance thinks I'm cool.

That is very important to me.

I don't know why.

FROG SPELL

Nyeh heh heh heh heh! I have discovered the cheat code to being popular with kids. It's frogs. The cheat code is frogs.

Now if only I could extend that popularity to adults.

And my teammates.

And now. We have. THE FLOWER. Aggggggggh the flower. So much pressure. Hmm. Maybe I can bribe Bonbon into not hating me.

HEY HALF-PINT, PRESENT FOR YOU

Because I'm trying to improve our team's cohesion and the friction that exists between you and me is basically our only interpersonal conflict. Consider this an olive branch.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and call this one "Mission Failed" since I'm pretty sure I just made things awkward and weird. There might not be a way to bury the hatchet with this kid. They're under a lot of stress.

I just want to know who keeps breaking the bread. I was specifically watching for it and it still crept up on me. I blinked for one second - Well, okay, I had a brief chat with my Lemonfriend about ignoring all of you but that's beside the point - and then there was just this hideous CRACK and the bread was ripped in half.

How!? WHEN!? WHO!?

You could just tell me now and then I'll know it so when I die and you've un-told it to me I can spare you the embarrassment of telling me.

Then again maybe we should keep it on the down-low to avoid making my Lemonfriend jealous. I'm sure they're listening in on every word we say. They're clingy and stalkerish like that.

Wow. We're back here again already. In my defense, I DID check for traps. I very briefly skimmed each pillar so I'm pretty sure there has to be some sort of complex--

Well. Okay then.

I now realize that the cause of my death was, in fact, that I suck at my job. Cool.

I would make a remark here about "going to crawl under a rock and die" but the boulder has a sense for ironic timing so it's best not to chance it. Let's just flick this stupid switch and move on.

Done. Mistake unmade. No longer have I died a clown. DO YOU HEAR THAT, LEMONFRIEND!? I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY NOT DIED.

BOOM, nothing to worry about now. It should be smooth sailing from here. Let's go commit regicide with extreme prejudice.

Cutlery is an interesting subject matter, actually. There's a lot of differentiation in individual sizes, shapes, and compositions of individual cutlery that contribute to a variety of different meal experiences. Even chopsticks come in many different forms.

But this would fall under the category of etiquette. I'm not quite sure if Madame Odile's field of expertise falls into that wheelhouse. Though I could see it....

Hey, give me some credit. You know how hard it is to cheat gratuitously under four different sets of watchful eyes?

You call it cheating. I call it speed practice. That's the kind of manual dexterity that lets me throw signs so fast.

Well that's fucking dangerous. THANKS FOR JUST BRINGING IT UP NOW, BONNIE. What if I slipped on that?

<.<

>.>

What... if I slipped on that....

Zero hesitation. FOR SCIENCE!

YES

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

Okay. We have proven that my lemon drop powers will still bring me back in time even if I'm frozen in time. This is a very useful piece of information to establish, so it's good to get that out of the way before we meet the King while the risk is still....

...

...while the risk is still....

...

Oh. Wait. That could have been really bad for me. If that didn't work then--

LET'S NOT THINK ABOUT THAT HAHAHA I'm sure my Lemonfriend wouldn't have left me strander there. It's fine. The important thing is that I now know my ability to loop is immutable even by time.

This is what PROGRESS looks like. >:D

[circe69]

I read your rules and I hope this isn’t too dark but can you do a Simon x reader where the reader has an identical twin and they die during the graves betrayal scene and the aftermath is Simon comforting the reader? Like they were already crushing on each other and he’s comforting her.. thank you💚

I Wish For Simon

a/n - anon i am so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i'm terrible w requests! i want to make it perfect before i post, so hopefully this is what you wanted... wc: 1.1k cw: gore, violence, suggestive themes, probably the best thing i've ever written (yeah its a warning cause YOU'LL BE BAWLING)

fav line from the fic - “That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Me and my twin had always been close, we had to be. "Best friends since birth", we'd been deemed from before we could even speak. Alyssa and I were quite the pair and had exceeded our hometown's problematically low expectations of woman in a whole when the both of us had been assigned to serve in the 141 Task Force.

It was a change of pace, but one that I wanted. I had prepared for something like this my whole life, training and worked myself to death just to have a chance to serve. Alyssa, on the other hand, wasn't as keen on the idea. Sometimes I wonder if she just joined because she couldn't bear to be apart from me. I love the sentiment, but we were grown adults, we couldn't afford to make decisions solely due to separation anxiety.

That brings us to today, March 3rd. I hate March 3rd.

My birthday. Well, our birthday.

I hate today because as of now, I have to celebrate it alone. It's been years since Alyssa died, and I still act just as immature and "kid-like" when March 3rd rolls around every year.

Her death had been nothing short of a "hostage dump", my sister had been counted as a waste of time to Graves, someone who wouldn't make a difference to anyone in the force, so why would he keep her?

I can't help but think it was my fault, but I didn't have time to feel sorry for something I might've done. All I felt was anger, hot rage bringing my blood to a boil, all which contributed to what I was about to do. Anger is difficult to overcome, especially when it's brought on by confusion, something happened that you barely knew anything about. I wanted to take it upon myself to strip Graves of all the "information" I felt I was missing, I wanted to skin him alive and make him answer questions as I did it, but as I rose my knife behind Graves’ wall of a body, a hand stopped me.

A silent move, not a scary one. I immediately knew who it was once I saw the fabric.

Ghost.

His hand was heavy around my wrist, his height towering over me, it was all too much for me to focus on, so I did what I'm positive Ghost was trying to make me do, I backed down.

I retreated as quietly as I could, putting my blade back in its embrace of a pocket and followed Ghost out the door, trying to excuse whoever that woman was in there that she hadn't had enough sleep, she was hungry and just wanted to feel something, but Ghost had none of it.

"It's okay, Y/N, to want to avenge someone. It's okay to be bloodthirsty and feel yourself make allowances for it. It's okay."

Ghost was a man of many attributes, but comforting was never one of them. He himself had attended multiple therapy sessions throughout the entirety of our relationship, but they only lasted so long before he strangled the shrink.

I liked Ghost. I admired him, I admired what his life had amounted to. Perhaps worthless to him, a soul placed in the wrong hands, but I thought quite the opposite.

"You're a good man, Simon."

His name slipped out of my mouth.

No.

Oh no.

I had gotten too emotional, I felt myself crawling into a hole of feelings and a strong desire to cry rushed over me. I suddenly imagined all the times I'd watched Simon do simple, mundane things, and stared at him long enough to read his dog tags over and over and over. I'd recited his name in my head, in my dreams, for so long and I still was shocked when I'd heard myself say it.

His eyes locked with mine. Dark, deep, dead, he'd like to contribute, but I chuckle mentally as I think about how the man who views himself as dead was the only one in the world who made me feel as alive as he did.

"What did you say?" That voice could seduce anyone, I was sure of it. It was as if God himself had dipped Simon's vocal cords in a pot of warm honey, then lit it on fire.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I shouldn't have addressed you like that, my apologies." I started to walk away when his body came crashing against mine. My back hit a jagged wall and I groaned in pain, but I quieted down when I realized just how close he was to me. I felt him against me, and I couldn't feel it fast enough. My senses heightened, my pupils dilated, and my face flushed with a dark shade of aflame red. Both of our breathing was shallow and heavy, every breath he emitted made mine deeper, louder.

I could feel the confusion seeping off of him. He didn't want it to feel so good when his name left my mouth. He didn't want to enjoy it, but it was inevitable. A no-good name slipping out of a no-good mouth, it was bound to happen at some point.

I shook off my daydream, finding myself at an empty table in an empty dining hall, the only thing in front of me was a poorly made cupcake, pink frosting, sprinkles, all the works. I stared at a candle, half of it had already melted mind you, and my mind reeled as I stalked my mental drawers for wishes I hadn't made yet,

"I wish for Simon." My voice broke as I said it, and I realized I hadn't spoken all day until now.

I don't truly believe that's why my voice broke, however. I truly did love Simon, I loved him in everything he did and everything he didn't. I loved the fact that he never exhibited any sort of emotion except for denial and force. I loved how scared he was of feeling anything else.

A tear dropped onto the table below me, the chair screeched as I stood, and everything was happening too fast. Before I knew it, tears were pouring out of me at an uncontrollable rate. I turned around and started heading for the door, telling myself that I would leave that stupid wish behind with the melted wax, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw who was leaning against the doorway with those beautifully built forearms crossing his chest.

He had heard it, was all I could think as I made intense eye contact with him. With everything else.

His mask was discarded. I couldn't stop my jaw from unhinging, I felt it click open slowly and it dropped until it couldn't anymore.

Simon smiled at the action. His white teeth contrasting his pink lips. I looked back at the table for a fraction of a second to see that the flame I had left untouched had been blown out, maybe it was the wind, maybe it was the spirit of my once-lonely-self making an appearance for the last time.

I looked back at Simon like a child on Christmas.

Maybe I'd keep wishing for stupid things if they'd work as well as this one did.

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a/n part two : happy new years everyone! i probably won’t post till monday, but i wish you all the best and love💕

[alovelyburn]

WIP! WIP! WIP!

Usually when these festivals come around I try to get something together and contribute to the cause. This time I was unable to finish... because I found out about it rather late, and also had a lot going on in my real life.

But I did start something. So I'm dropping the first part of the WIP on you guys; no idea if it really qualifies for inclusion in @griffgutsweekend but I'm cool either way.

All the thanks to @zombiesgohome for basically being my cowriter on the beginning of this - she's my Guts expert. Also bear in mind this is a first draft, ok, be kind.

Quick Background: many many years ago, by which I mean in like 2014, someone told me they'd like to see me try to tackle a romance between current canon Guts and Griffith. It took a while but here we are.

It's called Thirst Drove Me to the Water.

1.

The room has already been thoroughly trashed by the time Griffith opens the door. Before him like broken furniture and upturned chairs. All the vases have been  emptied of their white flowers – their water soaked through the plush rug and dripping down white marble walls. An overturned table has been split in two, and gashes mar the walls where that oversized sword bit through the marble.

It’s unsurprising and yet somehow disappointing. Still, Griffith’s expression remains, as always, stubbornly impartial. Around him, the room ripples and shifts – an invisible wave that runs over the room and leaves all as it was, before. Immaculate. Untouched.

His guest seems less than impressed by this.

Guts stares at Griffith from his place on the floor, his one eye smoldering with black fire, his famous sword resting across his knees.

“You sure took your sweet time showing your face,” he says. There’s a sharp edge to his tone, and a growl deep in his throat. “Finally remembered I was here?” He looks like a caged animal. It’s appropriate.

Griffith tips his head just slightly. “I didn’t forget,” he says, “You’ve been pounding against my barriers all day. I thought I would give you a moment to collect yourself.” Griffith glances over the room to where a small table stands, off to the side, away from the center of the now corrected chaos. He’d had a basket of fruit and bread brought to Guts’ rooms as soon as Guts himself was sent there, unconscious, and still bleeding. Griffith hadn’t tended the wounds himself. He wouldn’t have trusted himself to. He looks at Guts. “Have you eaten?” It’s a question of propriety. From here, he can see the half-eaten bread and apple cores.

“What the hell do you care?” Guts snaps. Despite his words, Griffith catches sight of Guts’ gaze as it moves to the table.

Griffith untips his head. “Hm.” He moves to the table quietly, his fingers dragging over the polished wood, the white lace cloth that protects it.

Typically, when one stays silent during an exchange long enough, the other person eventually feels the need to fill that gap. Guts is a man of few words, yes, but unless he’s changed considerably more than he seems to have done, he is also a man without much impulse control. Griffith, being far more curious about what Guts might say than interested in talking, himself, remains silent.

A moment later, Guts pulls himself to his feet. His sword plants itself in the carpeting and the floor beneath it as easily as it would plant itself into soft ground and grass. The sound of steel splitting marble rumbles, swallowed by the thickness of the carpet. “So, what is this?” he asks. His expression hardened as his gaze. “Some kind of game? Is being King too boring for you? If you’re gonna kill me just do it.”

“Impatient as always,” Griffith says.  It occurs to him that Guts is still in his armor. “And always so demanding for a mad dog.”

“You got some nerve calling me mad.” Guts’ muscles clench. Griffith can see every emotion running over his face, settling in his neck – the tension in his shoulders, the clenching of his jaw. “I ain’t the one who—”

“You can list my sins until morning and I won’t be any more enlightened than I am now.” Griffith’s voice cuts the air – sharp and soft as it is. “You invaded my home and tried to kill me, yet I have been nothing but cordial.” With some minor exceptions. Even now, he can remember the rush of battle, Guts’ steel against his. He had played along, but in the end only one outcome could have come about... and it did.

“Now that we’re here,” Griffith says softly. “Feel free to swing your sword as much as you like. It will do you no more good than it did the last time... or the time before that.”

The weight of that massive sword hits the ground with a crash that jolts the floor... and just that quickly, Guts is rushing at Griffith, his armored fist swinging. Griffith stands motionless for a moment, watching the light catch on the edges of that so-sharp black armor. Watching the barely burning fire in Guts’ eye turn to an inferno. And then, just when Guts is there – only a few short feet away, Griffith reaches up and grabs that fist in the bare palm of his hand... and holds it.

They are close – close enough for Griffith to feel the feather-light stirring of Guts’ breath. That one eye widens in—fear? Panic? It isn’t rage, not this time. There’s something savage inside Griffith that smiles at that reaction. His fingers curl down, and he feels the metal creak, just at the edge of bending, or snapping. One never knows with cursed items.

It's enough to make his point, at least, in that second before he lets go.

“You really never change,” Griffith says, voice quiet but not quite soft. “I would have thought you’d learn to control yourself between the Hill and today.” He flexes his fingers. “You should have tried a slap.”

Guts snaps his armored fist back, pressed to his chest. “What the hell is this? If you ain’t gonna kill me, if you won’t fight... what is this, just some kind of cage? I’m just your prisoner, now?”

“If I release, you’ll just keep coming after me.” Griffith runs his tongue along the inside of his lips. He can almost taste the bitterness on his tongue. “So, yes, I suppose you are.” He looks away from Guts, toward the floor length windows. From here, inside  an obscure corner of one of the palace’s towers, Outside, he can see Falconia spread out before them like a painting – the view from the sky. “Well,” he says, “If you say you will leave here and move on with your life – give up your vendetta and leave me be – then perhaps I will let you go.”

“Like hell I will.” The answer comes too quickly. Griffith almost laughs; Guts says, “You know damn well I won’t.”

He does know. Or, rather, he suspected.

“That being the case,” Griffith says. “Here we are.”

“Yeah, here we are.” Guts raises his head, his back straightening to his full height. It must be terribly intimidating to anyone who isn’t Griffith. “So now what? You can’t just shove me in a box and come by when you wanna be smug for a while.”

“That’s a presumptuous accusation. I don’t recall saying I would be coming back.”

Griffith hears his own voice – hard as marble and just as cold. Guts hasn’t moved. His hand remains pressed to his chest, and outside, the sun is growing crimson with the coming night. Griffith watches the red light dye the white buildings; somehow his gaze refuses to land on the man in front of him, no matter how close he stands. And he’s never had a difficult time finding things to say – it was only ever a matter of whether he had anything that needed saying. Now, nothing that comes to mind will make its way past his lips.

Best to leave. Griffith sighs. “I don't suppose there's much purpose to my staying here any longer. I thought I should explain the situation. But I'll have servants set aside to attend to your needs. There's no need to disturb your... equilibrium any farther.”

“You send your servants in here, you ain’t getting them back.”

Griffith glances at Guts. Lines of tension run up his neck.

“Would you kill them for bringing you breakfast? Not all of them are demons.”

“Fine by me. I don't just kill demons.” Guts shrugs his heavy shoulders... but the casualty of it is affected.

Guts’ face is just as tense, just as angry. ...it’s frightened, too... though it isn’t immediately clear what it is he’s frightened of. Griffith himself, perhaps? That would make sense... though it seems somewhat incongruent with Guts’ personality to show it in this kind of situation.  

No. It’s something else.

Griffith is quiet for a time, assessing Guts’ body language, the way his eye burns. Anger, frustration and fear. If he thinks about it, it shouldn’t be surprising. After all, who knows abandonment and imprisonment better than Griffith?

 “I see,” He says. “I wouldn’t have thought you would want me to come back.”

Something flashes in Guts’ eye – surprise, yes, and then a wall of stone to block out Griffith’s sight... or maybe Guts’ perception of himself. For a moment, Guts is just. Silent. Motionless. He opens his mouth... even so, it takes a moment for him to find his voice.

“I didn’t say—” Three words, and then his voice fails quiet again.

Griffith looks to the table not so far away – the apple core and half-eaten bread.

“Very well,” he says, quietly. “I'll bring you your meals personally. At least for now.” He takes a deep breath and turns toward the door. It’s only a few steps off; he takes hold of the latch – silver and engraved with feathery markings, like most things in Falconia.

“Heh.” It isn’t an actual laugh. Feet away, Guts’ weight shifts. Griffith can hear the clanging metal; it shifts, but doesn’t approach. “Never thought this was gonna end with a damn God Hand offering to bring me dinner.”

“We are not one body, Guts.” Griffith looks at his hand – long fingers wrapped around the silver latch while the metal warms. “Each of us has our own goals, our own priorities, and our own experiences. I am what I am... but I am still Griffith.”

The armor shifts behind him again, and it’s so quiet. Griffith doesn’t look back. “Whatever has become of what we were... you were once the most important thing in this world, to me.” It’s surprisingly easy to say. Perhaps because it’s no longer true. “I will honor that.”

And then, without waiting for a response, he opens the door and steps into the hallway beyond.

* * *

Guts stares at the door long past its closing, his heart pounding violently in his chest. In that moment, hot rage and cold sorrow rushing through him, he doesn’t know whether to scream or cry.

[the-witch-with-the-raven-tattoo]

After about a decade of building up my crystal collection, I can no longer close my eyes to what I've been supporting. Far from the good vibes that crystals are purported to have, I need to be honest that their trade funds the same human rights abuses and environmental destruction that I've spent most of my life decrying. I need to address this cognitive dissonance within myself, and can no longer endorse buying mass-market crystals anymore. I call myself an earth-worshipper, or nature-worshipper, yet I'm contributing to the destruction of the Earth and her people. This no longer sits right with me. Yes, there are likely minerals in my phone that were mined using less-than-ethical practices, however a cell phone in this day and age is kind of a necessity. Decorative crystals and fossils, though, are more difficult to justify in this way.

I'm still going to keep the ones I have for now, because, welp, the damage has already been done, and getting rid of them now won't undo what I've been endorsing with my dollar. I still have a box of gems that I bought to make wire-wrapped jewelery with, and I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with those, so they're tucked away until I can decide.

If there's interest, I may make some pieces with them and put them up for sale as a Crystal Clearout sale, since I did spend a lot of money on those supplies. Or I might wear or gift them. We will see.

Back to my spiritual practice. What am I going to use instead?

River rocks!

Or lake rocks. Park rocks. Parking lot rocks. Farm rocks. Forest Rocks. Anything except store-bought is fine. Look at these cool rocks I've found in my city so far! These are geologically tied to the place I live, they carry the history on the land I'm on, which is not mine to live on. It is Treaty 6 territory—the traditional and ancestral territory of the Cree, Dene, Blackfoot, Saulteaux and Nakota Sioux. This territory is home to the Métis Settlements and the Métis Nation of Alberta, Regions 2, 3 and 4 within the historical Northwest Métis Homeland.

These stones carry the memory of the people who were here before me, and that of a not-so-distant history I need to address time and time again, examine my own biases, and do what I can to address inequalities right here, right now. They are a connection to this land, and those who live on it.

These stones can also hold my own memories, for instance this petrified wood reminds me of a day a friend and I went rock-hunting by the river, and on a trip to Ontario with this same friend, we found some jade (I think). Which brings me to another point. I am not a geologist. I plan to learn about minerals local to me, but I'll never have the assurance of some shopkeeper (whatever that's worth) that what I'm holding is 100% a piece of pure amethyst, and here is a list of its properties. Instead, I'll be able to find my own meaning in the stones, feathers and flowers I find while walking in the world, and use them in my practices the way I feel intuitively guided to.

In spiritual practices, what we are working with is energy and intention. The rest are simply tools, symbols for our brain to understand what we are channeling towards or away from. The most important quality you can develop as a witch, a pagan, a yogi, a spiritualist, whatever you wish to call yourself, is self-trust. Trust that you are enough. Trust that this stone made its way to you so that you would find it exactly when you did. Trust that the herbs you lovingly grew, watered, bundled and dried are sufficient for clearing any stale energies. Learn from those who came before you, but at a certain point, you have to free yourself from reliance on corporations, merchants, readers, authors, course creators, and anyone else looking to make a buck off your lack of experience and confidence.

When you have a true need, harken not to others' greed. (the Wiccan Rede)

Consumerism has its hooks in us to such a point where we feel like we have to buy our way out of all of our real or perceived inadequacies.

Feeling down? Buy this sun lamp!

Tummy hurts? It's this scary new syndrome I just made up! Peer review, what's that? Nevermind. Buy this supplement!

Want to feel really cool and attractive? Buy this new outfit!

Want to make friends? Learn a new hobby! Oh, but this hobby requires you to buy all this gear before anyone thinks you're serious about it! And make sure you buy a t-shirt that says you're into this hobby while you're at it, so you can talk about it to everyone!

McSpirituality works the same way. Feel like you don't belong? It's definitely a past life thing, buy a reading with me to find out! Looking for love? Make sure you buy a rose quartz to send a lover your way within 24 hours. Hmm, it didn't work? It must not be big enough. Make sure you buy this one instead! Trying to get into meditation? You'll need to buy a zafu, some mala beads, and a buddha head with some very questionable history Are you broke after all these purchases? You can just buy this abundance generating spell kit, and this $10K course (I have seen this price point, it's not hyperbole) on dissolving your subconscious blocks to abundance!

It's not your fault, it's the system we all live in. I was, and still am, immersed in it too. If you're in a tough place, it can be so easy to be swept up by the promise of a quick fix, because spiritual work is hard. You'll have to confront yourself in some tough ways, work through traumatic experiences and spend years building discipline and focus.

It's a lot easier to just walk into a crystal shop and pick the one you like, isn't it? But I want to remind myself that life doesn't work that way.

Do you just walk into a store and pick out the partner, the job, the house, the experiences, the circumstances that look prettiest?

Okay, maybe some of you do if you're very lucky or have certain privileges, but these choices aren't always the ones that guarantee long-term compatibility or happiness.

In real life, it's a lot more like walking down a riverbank with a friend, catching up on life, and showing each other the cool thing you found, maybe deliberating on what it might be. Your rock might look different than hers, but you found it and it feels good to you. Maybe the shape feels satisfying and built just for your hand. You feel like it was waiting for you all this time.

Or maybe it's like walking home after a difficult day, and seeing the little sparkle of something glimmering in the sunlight. Maybe this represents hope and silver linings. Maybe a bird eyes you as you examine your rock, offering you company and understanding in a way that words fail to.

That feeling certainly isn't for sale in stores, or online. If I find it at a garage sale, I'll let you know.

[heathersdesk]

Holy Week: The Anointing

Mary of Bethany, who came to anoint Christ for his burial in Matthew 26, performed an act of faith and devotion that even his chosen Twelve were unable to perform for him.

She understood that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah, the Son of God. She also knew, and had the courage to confront, that Jesus was going to die. She wasn't in denial of this fact. She didn't attempt to change this reality through violence or vengeance. She accepted it and came to perform the anointing for his body.

What she knew to be true, Jesus was still fighting with the Twelve to get them to understand and accept. They resisted the truth they didn't want to hear. As a result, they were unprepared to help him in the coming days the way he needed them to.

What we can gather about the struggle here is one we still see in the Church today: women will have access to divine truths that men will not have the faith to discern. And when the source of that truth is a woman, they will not believe it because women are not reliable sources of truth to them. Even when Jesus corrected them for criticizing her, saying the ointment she brought to him wasn't wasteful because it was for his burial, they were still in denial that he was actually going to die.

The Church has done a great deal of work to bring women, their voices and perspectives, into the administrative circles of the Church. There has been over a decade of training on the importance of councils with women on them, delegating assignments to women, making women and their contributions more visible. The mileage may vary, but a significant portion of church membership knows this is how things are supposed to work, even if they are poor at implementing it into practice.

What I still see, however, is that men in leadership still struggle to accept women as sources of truth they themselves do not possess. There is an attitude still that women are only trustworthy as long as they're repeating back to men the things they already believe. When it comes to the kind of revelation that serves God in innovative or difficult ways, in their minds, those answers shouldn't be coming to women first.

Jesus Christ trusted women. He found willing, capable disciples among them. They exceeded the faith of his chosen Twelve many times, and Jesus used their faith as examples to these men to challenge their entrenched gender bias. Jesus Christ didn't subscribe to the rigid gender binary that men subscribed to in that day, and it's a struggle he is still having with men to this day.

Jesus was the perfect teacher and advocate for women. He did not tolerate the disrespect that so often defined being a woman then. He doesn't tolerate it now. And as we contemplate the spirit of Easter, celebrating the liberation of the captive, this is the liberation I still find myself praying for.

The hope I have for the future of the Church is the one where we finally achieve the equality Jesus spent his entire life teaching about. Where the preferences and ignorance of men in leadership is no longer a stumbling block to me on my pathway home to my Heavenly Parents.

I've never prayed about this where the answer has ever changed.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Answer: Never stop telling the truth. Never stop reaching for what Jesus taught is my right to receive. Reach out and take what is mine, regardless of how men try to obstruct me. And most importantly, make sure I keep the way open for others who come after me. I'm not the only one hurt by the gender binary. I'm not free until we're all free. And like Jesus, I will stick with it for as long as it takes, even if it takes another two thousand years.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to make my best friend and girlfriend's lives better?

I (16M) have extremely powerful magical abilities that allows me to do almost anything. I often use this to do nice things for my best friend (17M) and girlfriend (15F), but as of late I've felt bad about how me using my powers for only minor things like giving them nice gifts have lead to them suffering horribly emotionally when I could help them, especially after an incident where I let someone I love probably get killed because of my girlfriend telling me not to use my powers to save her.

So my best friend also has the same powers I have, but he's been told his whole life, as I was told, that using the powers will make him "lose his soul" and turn into a violent killer. Unfortunately, a relative of his with the same powers did actually snap and kill most of his family, and because of this he is horribly traumatized and afraid to use his powers. But this is all not necessary because I've figured out a loophole where I put all my powers into a scroll so it's not me actually using it and it doesn't affect me, and with this ability I've been using the magic freely without being affected. He doesn't listen to my reassurances and stays miserable and afraid of himself, not doing all the good he could do for himself with his powers, and up until now I've respected that because I understand how traumatized he is. But I've also realized that his girlfriend (17F) is really unhealthy for him and contributing to his self-hatred. When we first met, she tried to kill me just for having powers, and she's hated and been suspicious of me ever since. It must be horrible for his self-esteem to be with someone who is so bigoted she would want to kill people just like him when he already has so many issues with his self-worth, even if she tries to tell him that he's "one of the good ones".

Then there's my girlfriend, who doesn't have the same powers but can see the future. In particular, multiple futures, all of which have a possibility of happening. She's also pretty miserable and anxious all the time because of all the horrors she sees, and trying to fix it all from such a young age. But a lot of the bad futures involve me becoming evil and doing bad things, so she's always watching and criticizing me to make sure I don't do that. Although I sympathize with her, I find it tiring because I wish she would trust me and understand that I have free will, that I shouldn't be punished for things I haven't done yet and I wish we could just live in the moment and be happy together. Plus I feel I've already sufficiently proved that I'm not going to be evil, because I deliberately sacrificed my own powers to put them in the scroll just so I wouldn't lose my soul, even though it meant the powers would no longer be mine and I would be vulnerable. Why isn't that act of love for her enough?

So, the things I tried to do to fix their problems: first of all, I sealed my friend's girlfriend inside a wooden doll, while faking a letter from her to make my friend thing she just left. No, she's not conscious in here, and I didn't kill her (reviving the dead is not allowed with my powers), so I can bring her back any time I want without issue after I figure out how to make sure she stops being a bad influence on him, so this is not the same as murder, it's just trying to make my friend finally happy! And secondly, I gave my girlfriend earrings that would make her only see happy futures, so she would be happy and not miserable with worry for once. I thought what she doesn't know wouldn't hurt her and she really did seem so much happier, but now they've found out about the earrings (they don't know about the wooden doll thing) and they are all telling me that I am evil now and this is the bad future, and I don't get it! I'm not killing anybody, I'm just trying to help them and I've succeeded in making their lives a lot better! But since they are insisting I decided to post here to ask if I was being the asshole.

[kaddyssammlung]

About those comments saying that Vessel is autistic

I keep coming across the same things and idk it kind of bothers me. Those discussions weather Vessel is on the spectrum or not. I will not discuss this in any form. I do have a moral line that I don't cross. But I will contribute to this in a different way.

You know me, right? Probably not so let me start by saying this: I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and also have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD or Childhood Trauma).

I've been aware of my BPD since I was about 16. That was 20 years ago. That's quite a long time. I was not aware of CPTSD until July of 2020. Even then I did not really “go” into this direction and kept looking away from my traumatic experiences.

How could this happen?

Yeah well. Sh*t happens.

Let's take a closer look.

This chart shows where BPD, CPTSD and ASD overlap but also the differences.

Let's take dissociation as an example. This is something that I struggle with a lot. Today for example I am dissociated to the point where I have physical reactions. It's not always the same. But right now I can't feel my hands and my arms and also I just feel empty. I'm using this state of being right now to write to you because it's not easy for me to talk about this topic.

I was aware of dissociation being a symptom of BPD but never thought about it also being a symptom of CPTSD. I never really looked behind that symptom. I was familiar with it being part of me and that was it. I never looked into the direction of there being potential trauma. Until that traumatized child destroyed the beliefs that I had about my life so far. My world broke apart when I realized what was done to me. And also I was already 32 when I had that realization. It can take many years to even being able to acknowledge something like that.

You see why it is kind of hard to be diagnosed or why it is hard to even see this for yourself.

There are humans out there who claim certain things about Vessel.

Like I said this is where I draw my personal line. I would never say that he has this and that. It feels unethical since I don't know him. It is up to him to address this if there is something that needs to be addressed.

Do I personally feel like he could be in there somewhere? Yeah, sure. Based on what he writes you can place him in this chart somewhere. (I said could and not that he is).

Idk that's what I wanted to say for quite some time now. Thank you.

If you are interessted in learning more:

Here is the video where I stole that chart from. I value her opinion because she also realized quite late in her life that she has childhood trauma. She is a therapist btw.

[deusvervewrites]

So i’ve been avoiding submitting a few asks in order to try and avoid contributing to the flood of followup asks but this idea just came to me and it feels like it would involve too many shenanigans to not mention.

Hivemind x Musketeer: Now not only does everyone have each other’s quirks, they could also get the quirks Izuku…acquisitions from others. Can you say ‘exponential power growth’? Or as close as one can get anyway. Like, just going off of the USJ, them now having Shock Absorption and Hyper Regeneration would make them very formidable even before one considers all their other quirks.

Also, since we know Hyper Regeneration can replace lost body parts, would Yagi just start growing back the organs he lost? Or would those be considered too old of an injury to work? Though from my understanding calling his injury ‘healed’ isn’t particularly accurate either.

Such calamitous concepts aside, the fact for All for Inko can turn off her extreme cringeness does make her significantly less cringe then canon counterpart. Which is good, because nobody should be that cringe all the time; and the idea of Yagi being stunned into hearing her out because she stopped being ridiculously cringe and asked like a normal person is absolutely toptier.

…I now have a meme idea, what about Legitimate Businesswoman Midoriya Inko? Though that probably wouldn’t actually change to much from the original au, but still seems like a funny idea to me.

Hive Mind x Musketeer: My assumption is that Hyper Regeneration can't heal that damage because it's already been treated by the time AFO (or in this case, All Might) acquired the Quirk without reopening those wounds, which for obvious reasons is not ideal.

Though you didn't point out that all of them have All For One in this particular combination.

All For Inko: I'm not sure any of the business she's done during her truce has been legitimate

[piracytheorist]

I'm having a lot of feelings. I am okay but in general there's... feelings.

The school environment looked good. We have an introductory day on Monday and then we start lessons on Tuesday. The principal was very kind and helpful and she seemed super willing to help me adjust. It's also the first time that this school gets a teacher of my specific specialty and they actually looked happy I was there. So that's a very positive, welcoming environment. I also made a few acquaintances and specifically of people who seemed very helpful and offered good advice to us newbies.

My new landlady is very, very talkative and does not take a hint at all whenever I want to cut the discussion short and just go back into my new apartment. She lives right next door so I'll be meeting her often. But she's very helpful and she also gave me fresh eggs today. They (or a neighbor, I got a bit confused there) have chickens so there's a chance I'll be given fresh eggs all year long. Pretty neat.

On the other, terrible hand, my country has been suffering from floods lately and it's gotten me so down because there's so many losses and destruction. It's heartbreaking and I'm supposed to go teach on Tuesday like people from villages around my hometown didn't lose their lives, or houses, or livelihoods. Me and my family are safe but it's still very heartbreaking to think about.

On a smaller scale, this has impacted my moving plans because we literally can't drive back to pick up the rest of my stuff since the roads are closed due to the floods. I was counting on going back this weekend and picking up all that and helping clean out my previous apartment, but now I won't be able to make any contribution and will have to depend fully on my parents to clean it out. I have to stay here because my work will start officially, and I hate that I'll have to burden them with that. It's a very small apartment and most things are already packed, but still. They've already done so much and I just want to stop feeling like I'm being dependent on them; this only makes my feeling worse.

With that in mind, most of my teaching hours will be on my specialty and passion so I'm not freaking out for that (I mean I am, a little, it's still gonna be new students I don't know at all but it's what I love doing so that will help things roll) but I also had to add a few extra hours of other lessons to fill out my schedule. And that adds another layer of stress because even though they are very light lessons and not ones the students get exams on at the end of the school year, they're stuff I've never taught before (though they are music lessons, I don't actually have experience teaching those specific lessons). It is a big relief to be given the "light" lessons as a newbie (newbie both in schools in general and in this particular school in specific) and I have to give myself some leeway because no teacher is the absolute best on their first year. I have to relax and understand that I will screw up and it's going to be okay, and I won't destroy my students' academic progress by being a little clumsy in my teaching. That doesn't apply to my specialty class, though. I'm ready to give it my all for that because I have taught it before (though not in a public school under such circumstances) and it's a class I absolutely love and feel is my life's purpose, so for that I'm much more confident and less stressed. It's almost funny that something actually important for me is stressing me out so much less than something I'm not super interested in teaching. I just want to give my students a good learning experience.

So in summary, I want to have a good cry to burst it all out. But I'm stuck in an apartment with my father who's also fallen a little ill, so he's not going out and I'm forced to be with him all the time and also make sure he hydrates and eats and takes his meds, and with that there's simply no time to cry it out. And I don't want to just cry in front of him. I need to be alone in that because it's an outburst and the last thing I want is someone worrying over me for that. I just need to find a time and place to do it on my own and then I hope I can feel better. It's been a SUPER intense week, with a lot of ups and downs and stresses and new stuff to figure out. I need that time alone to cry and figure out my feelings.

So anyway hoping my first pay comes in time because hoo boy the moment I see the amount added in my bank account I'm calling my therapist to schedule an appointment, I need one so fucking hard.

It's going to be easier and better from now on. It's just that the path to there will be a little bumpy and uncertain.

[anexperimentallife]

Just some rambling about my life, including future plans.

Man, I don't WANT to go back to the US. I'd love Uruguay, Thailand, or Republic of Ireland, sure, but not the US.

But even though medical care is better (and cheaper) in EVERY other developed country, the US is where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits, which means that unlike most US folks, I can get my surgeries and meds there for almost free. And I need SOOOO much done now that my health has gone so far downhill since El's birth. That's probably the only way I'll make it long enough to watch her grow up.

Plus considering we're all US citizens, and El is now old enough to not need her mommy 24/7, @thesurestthing will be able to put her degree to work, which she can't legally do here--and I know she's been frustrated about not being able to contribute financially. (Of course, living in the US, we'll NEED two incomes.) And then there's the fact that El will have advantages growing up in a country where she's an actual citizen instead of a long-term tourist renewing her status every couple of months.

In many ways, we're lucky, though. If my health had declined BEFORE we got pregnant with Eleanor, we'd have kept being careful to not get pregnant. But at the time, my health was stable (even though I was disabled), and I had JUST gotten the contract to get paid a licensing fee to let a gaming company turn Karma into a video game, so we were like, hey, if it happens, it happens.

Then the mess with Eleanor's birth certificate, me getting covid three times, and all the lasting health issues that came with that, AND the company canceling the game project (although I DID get a year's worth of licensing fees for a game that will never be finished--and social security was like, "Yeah, getting paid for intellectual property rights doesn't count as working, so you're good to keep getting disability").

I'm glad we didn't know how bad things would get, that we'd be hit with whammy after whammy over the next couple of years. Because if we'd known, we'd have kept being careful, would never have gotten pregnant, and we wouldn't have Eleanor.

And yeah, it's a challenge being a parent while we wait to get my health issues addressed, but even on my worst days, this little girl is my biggest reason for opening my eyes in the morning.

And that's one of the reasons I write things like this; when she's older (and especially if I don't make it), I want her to be able to look back and see how important she has always been to me.

I know the US is already a police state, but we're hoping it can avoid becoming a full-on military dictatorship for just a little while longer.

[newsfromstolenland]

Ho there! I'm Jewish and queer, and I work with a former Baptist who recently converted to Islam. I love this girl but damn she shits on on Judaism all the time now, as she's been allegedly repeatedly told that "Jews killed Jesus". There's definitely more to it than that, and she's also starting to be the kind of person who thinks Jews own and run the world (and has the anti semitism downpat) Plus for some reason I haven't figured out yet she's become wildly homophobic, and says that was Islam tells her to believe. I'm wondering if she was always like this and just uses her new religion as an excuse to be open about it, because I know literally so many practising Muslims who absolutely do not feel or act this way (we had a queer mosque at one point in our city too)

We work with seniors who are very unkind about her recent conversion. I always correct them when they say something rude, because everyone deserves to be respected.

It's making work super toxic. My manager has never dealt with a Situation like this before and genuinely Doing her best but... It's not really enough. I can't report my coworker to HR without being seen as Islamophobic to my coworkers who aren't religious. I have a couple of VERY CHRISTIAN coworkers who are completely done with her shit and stick up for Judaism and LGBTQ when this other worker starts going off. It's horrible and I don't know what to do anymore. Islamophobia is a really genuine problem in Canada, but so is anti semitism and homophobia and I appreciate the post you made (and I'm sorry for my world vomit)

I've been following you for a long time and I appreciate all that you do❤️

yikes that sounds like a complicated situation

I can't tell you for sure what's making your coworker act like this, it's possible that someone at her mosque has been teaching her this bullshit (as a muslim I don't deny that stuff like that happens) or that she already saw things this way

in my experience, people who are bigoted will often use religion to justify what is really just their own harmful shit- including hating other religions

the antisemitic talking points you mentioned are not the ones that are sometimes spread by muslims, they sound more like the talking points of christian antisemites (especially the "Jews killed jesus" horseshit) which she could have heard in her upbringing or online

I wish I had an answer for you, but honestly in my opinion you're well within your rights to report her to HR, and if you're worried about seeming islamophobic just know that her religion shouldn't be part of your report. it's perfectly reasonable to say "this coworker is antisemitic and homophobic" rather than emphasizing her conversion as a contributing factor

I hope this makes sense!

[dungeonsandblorbos]

Campaign Intros: Curse of Strahd

so we're calling this campaign Curse of Strahd, which is an actual dnd 5e adventure book, but what we're actually playing is probably at least 80% homebrew. my husband, the DM, wasn't satisfied with the real book, as its worldbuilding wasn't deep or horrifying or dangerous enough for his gothic horror purposes. so he significantly expanded the lore, made Strahd a whole lot more powerful (as he should be), and even made his own maps and other Dark Lords! he's done an absolutely incredible job and i cannot heap enough praise on him. like, we're only 13 sessions in and this is his first time DMing, but he really makes this campaign something special <3

~anyway~

the setting

if you're familiar with Curse of Strahd as written, you've probably got a decent understanding of the basic setting already. i'm sure there's some major differences, but you'd have to ask my husband what they are lol

for those unfamiliar with Curse of Strahd, it takes place in the country of Barovia, a gloomy gothic nation banished from the material plane about four hundred years ago. now, it exists as its own little demi-plane in the Shadowfell, surrounded by deadly mists. somewhere in those mists are a few paths out to Faerun, but only a select few can walk them. everyone else, even those who wander in by mistake, are trapped. the sun does not shine here. there are no songbirds, only crows and ravens and owls. the dead do not like to stay dead. and it's all ruled over by the undying dread king Strahd von Zarovich, who is charming and cunning and ruthless and bored

the party

Cerris Tempescu: my PC! you know him, you met him here. a human tempest cleric who's basically what would happen if Clark Kent were a classic gothic hero (and also the most bottom to ever bottom). he's depressed. he's a himbo. he has something of a hero complex. he's my sweet baby boy and i love him and want him to eventually get a happily ever after, but first he's gotta suffer a whole bunch

Shalden Broadfist: a (purple) half-orc paladin devoted to the Smiling God, a big desert worm with a very neutral morality. Shalden is charming in a mostly awkward sort of way, and also something of a himbo. waaaaay more chill about the atrocities they've witnessed (and accidentally contributed to) than Cerris. looks good in an apron. can breathe fire. also very good at getting possessed

Valessha: an androgynous (purple) moon elf knowlege cleric. was naturally the smart one of the party . . . until they got yanked into a bag of holding by the Bag Man, where they've since been stuck.

Important NPCs

Ireena Kolyana: the one, the only, Ireena Kolyana. a beautiful and fiery young noblewoman who's handy with a sword and crossbow and throwing knives. headstrong, confident, and intelligent. she likes purple wildflowers, somewhat masculine clothing, and teasing Cerris, among other things

Ismark the Lesser: Ireena's older brother, and the current mayor of Barovia Village. when we first meet him, he's tired. like, only in his 30s and he's already gone silver tired. when we meet him again, he's got a shotgun and he's out for blood and vengeance against the people he feels were responsible for what happened to his sister (read: us!)

Arrigal: one of Strahd's . . . what's the word? henchmen? servants? lackeys? whatever else he is, Arrigal is a smarmy prick. blessed by Strahd with the ability to traverse the mists, he has personally lured many heroes (including our party) from Faerun to their deaths in Barovia, all for his master's entertainment

Luvash: Arrigal's younger but larger brother. big and strong and kind, but not stupid, although i'm sure his brother thinks he is. big dad energy

Madame Eva: a wise old woman cursed with nigh eternal unlife by her half-brother, Strahd. using her deck of tarokka cards, she can read your future—for a price. not money, no, she has no use for that, but a particularly interesting artifact or trinket will do

[redacted]: a horrifying eldritch family who lives in a cute little blue farmhouse surrounded by impossibly vast fields of "corn" and "scarecrows." there's a father who's very tall, a mother who's an excellent baker, and a child who likes to draw. their faces are obscured by a whirling static of color, and their voices have a lovely southern (US) drawl. their diet seems to consist exclusively of baked goods, candy, and other sweets. sometimes their movement sounds odd, like a bug's chitinous carapace rubbing against itself as it moves. sometimes their disembodied voices hover around you speaking in unison. sometimes they paralyze you and prop you up at their dinner table like a doll

Strahd: the man, the myth, the legend. Strahd is tall, dark, and handsome, with a rich voice and surprisingly warm hands. he is elegant, suave, charismatic, bold, intelligent, and many other nice sounding things; but he has been around for a long time, and he has seen many things, and he is bored of it all. despite the incredible power he already possesses, he hungers for more. has a self-professed fondness for religious men, having flirted with both Cerris and Shalden on numerous occasions

the plot . . . so far

after being lured into Barovia by Arrigal, our party finds themselves doing what they can to help the folks of Barovia village. they clear out a haunted and cursed old manor, putting the ghosts there to rest. they help bury Ireena and Ismark's father so Strahd's minions will stop messing with it. they promise a pastor to help him return his vampire spawn son to genuine life

and when they learn that Ireena is believed to be the reincarnation of Strahd's one true love Tatyana, that as a result, he has been trying to capture her and make her his bride for years, they agree to escort her to the temple in Valaki, the last stronghold against Strahd's power

upon arriving in Valaki, they are tasked with finding a missing holy relic as payment for sheltering Ireena. after losing Valessha to the Bag Man, going on a side quest to help Luvash recover his daughter from a family of hags, and playing out the beginning of a sweet little romantic comedy between Cerris and Ireena, they do find it and return it. but it quickly becomes apparent that something is deeply wrong here in Valaki

indeed, it turns out that the whole ordeal was something of a setup. more than a handful of NPCs thought to be good people—or, at least, neutral ones—are revealed to be working with Strahd to bring down Valaki and help him free himself from the confines of Barovia

you see, the curse that ties Strahd to this land and prevents him from leaving is not really a curse on him, but upon his bloodline. as the only surviving member of the von Zaroviches, unable to have children as a side effect of being undead, it remains effective. but if, say, he were to have a little niece or nephew running around, he just might be able to place them on the throne and pass along the curse, leaving himself free to return to Faerun and his conquest

but how could Strahd aquire a niece or nephew when his only sibling, Sergei, has been dead for four hundred years?

well, it should be noted Tatyana was not really Strahd's lover. he did ask her to be his, once, but she refused—and shortly thereafter, fell in love with and married his brother. when the pair died tragically, Tatyana was pregnant; and so the unfinished soul of her unborn child lingered, attached to her own soul as she reincarnated again and again and again over four hundred years. a particularly powerful fertility spell—say, one fueled by the very holy relic our party retrieved—could feasibly impregnate a reincarnation of Tatyana with the ghost of Sergei's child

so, of course, that's what Strahd's minions do. they put Ireena in a deep trance, kidnap her, and, armed with the very holy relic our party unwittingly retrieved for them, perform a ritual for a powerful fertility spell that presumably sticks a ghost baby in her womb without her knowledge or consent. and then she's whisked away to Strahd's castle, the city of Valaki is conquered, and our heroes are publicly blamed for it all

with nothing else to do, they turn to the cryptic reading Madame Eva gave them, hoping it holds the secret to defeating Strahd—and that they can decipher it before it's too late

[khiphop-discussions]

Im starting to get into thequiett, can you give me some info on him?

Side note: I read somewhere that in the khiphop scene thequiett is known as the one who would never hurt a woman and someone who would treat his girlfriend very well and it’s just something I didn’t expect lmao

OK so I'm not really sure where you want me to go with this: Fun Facts like the side note you posted? Biographical? IDK so I'm gonna do a bit of both.

The Quiett is basically a KHH icon. He's founded multiple companies: 3 of which have been super important to Khiphop and 1 remains to be seen what the outcome will be but I don't doubt it will probably be consider as pivotal in a few years (talking about Daytona).

The other 3 are: Soul Company, Illionaire, Ambition. To me, I feel like Illionaire has been the MOST important of the 3 for khh but I think that's because of the era in which I got into khh seriously. To me, without Illionaire khiphop doesn't even exist in the way it does now BUT I feel like the same thing can be said for Soul Company and even Ambition lol.

Basically from what I read in Myeong Sun Song's book Hanguk Hip Hop, Illionaire (specifically Dok2 and The Quiett) are the ones who brought "flexing" to khh. Korean culture is more about modesty and not being wasteful or "greedy". So flashing chains, rollies, money, women, and luxury cars is just not a thing in Korean culture, not even Korean Hip Hop, before Illionaire. Now I'm sure there was some people living lavishly and maybe throwing it around but it probably wasn't in the media much or if it was those people probably would have been looked at as assholes. I think part of the reason this didn't exist in khh at the time though is because people probably weren't making money as crazy as they are now. Hip-Hop has been pretty fringe in Korea until the last few years or so. They are both also somewhat of a "Rags to Riches" story. Both started off doing pretty well until life circumstances made both of them poor. Dok2 couldn't even finish elementary, I think The Quiett finished school all the way through but he ended up moving to one of the poorest neighborhoods in his hometown. Again, this is a very short summary and HUGE oversimplification of what is in the Hanguk Hip Hop book. There's a much more robust discussion in chapter 3 of that book which focuses SOLELY on Dok2 and The Quiett's contribution to Korean Hip Hop through the Illionaire label. If you have the money to buy the book I'd definitely read that chapter but ESPECIALLY the chapter 3 to get more in-depth with The Quiett's history. Side Note: but I had NO clue The Quiett also had the rags to riches story. I knew of Dok2's history but not Q's. I always assumed he grew up middle class. He did for a while but then fell on hard times as mentioned.

Him and Dok2 later founded Ambition Musik. I think it's iconic because it gave us some of the most commercially successful artists in KHH: Changmo and Ash Island. The others are no slouches either but these two have done a lot of things in their own right. This label was one of the few KHH label to do North American tour. Changmo is one of the few KHH artists to have a SOLO North American tour as well.Ambition and it's members have charted SO many times and this is without SMTM hype.

The Quiett is known for his producing. It seems to me that he's higher regarded for his producing (and business acumen) than as a rapper in Korea. However, this is my perspective from what I've seen. I'm not that well versed in the opinions of domestic fans. Especially from an artist who came out that long ago.

He's a Christian. He's had pics on IG where he dressed up and ready to go to church. I'm sorry but I've just never taken The Q for a church boy but he is haha

He has a dog named Torry (torry.storry on ig). Used to have a cat named munji but if it's still alive it lives with his parents. She was already ~10 years old in 2018, so she's up there in age tbh.

Known for being impossible to upset. Only person who has ever done it (that we know of) is Changmo. Changmo was complaining/venting to him so The Quiett finally gave out an exasperated sigh or something like that. He was tired of Changmo being negative/complaining.

Gave Changmo the advice to not be so hot and be more "cold" in regards to his relationships so might be the reason Changmo isn't single (could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your perspective). Changmo must go to him for advice a lot lol

[noivysneverland]

I dont normally post politics on here, but some of y'all leftists here are demonizing president Biden way too much. I get it, he wasn't my first choice in 2020 either but some of y'all seem to be insisting on another fascist presidency in november. One that will be fueled by hatred, spite, and outright fury against the very core of the USA.

I get that we're all fucking frustrated with what's happening in Palestine, goodness knows the zion-fascist machine that is running isreal may as well be the second coming of adolf fucking hitler with regards to the outright systematic genocide of the Palestinian people and the destruction of their homes. But I need to posit one itty bitty crucial little question that I think every single pro-Palestine american seems to be actively blocking from their heads is.

Do you really think it would be better under another a god forsaken gop administration, no less a far right one by the previous demon who is the current front runner for the party of modern fascism in this country? I think the answer to that question is easy to figure out. There's more at stake in the world than Palestine as well; what about Ukraine, which for the last two years has been holding out against another fascist invasion in the form of the putrid regime that has actively been working to undermine our own political system here at home in the USA. What do you think a return of the previous disaster in chief would enable the putrid regime to do not only to Ukraine, but to every single former soviet territory. he has just today (feb 10th, 2024) said that he would actively ask and encourage putrid to attack NATO allies and sit out our own military from intervening. While the russian military has been proven far, far less capable than putrid would like to admit, it has proven that it will throw as many people at a conflict as possible, regardless of the cost of the lives involved.

Biden's done some absolutely monumental things. The one I think about the most because I know a lot of friends who have had their lives and livelihoods changed for the better (for now) is what he's done with the price of Insulin. I'm sure ANYONE in this country with Diabetes (an estimated 27,000,000 people by the way) can tell you; putting into place a federal hard maximum on the price of life-saving Insulin and now the out of pocket price for Insulin is $35 per vial. This is down from a 2017 price of TWO-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS ($275). That price we have now, along with so many other things are under a direct threat of being removed if the previous dictator is allowed to run our country again. Along side the ACA, Medicare, Medicaid, and so many other things on a federal level that many americans depend on.

LGBT+ rights, which have already been under attack far more aggressively than ever before in every single red-government state. What do you think will happen if the previous dictator is allowed to run our country again.

If that demon is allowed to enter office again, Project 2025; perhaps the scariest document I have ever read, will be implemented in as many ways as it can. If you haven't looked at the details of that, I really suggest that you do; you will be affected by it. I told myself back in October 2016 that there was absolutely no way that demon could become president. Today, many of you that I've seen on my feeds, not just here but on other social media pages, are going to directly contribute to that demons return to power through your own tinted lenses. What's happening in Palestine is out right genocidal. But some of the loudest voices here are screaming at biden because he can't stop a senate and house that are a majority of the red fascists from forcing their terms on funding Israel. And don't even get me started about the supreme court, which has three demon-appointed "justices" that will remain there for life-time terms.

We all thought that there was no way the demon could become president in 2016. Well, look at where we are now. Will you let it happen again this year, 2024?