#and that surprises therion in turn

[spitblaze]

Just did a read through of a few travel banters from octopath 1 and I gotta say, the Therion and Alfyn banters are really fun.

Therion chapter 2: they talk about going to a tavern. Therion says that Alfyn will be paying.

Alfyn chapter 3: they talk about going to a tavern again. Alfyn says he wants to avoid getting drunk around Therion.

Therion chapter 3: They talk about going to a tavern again. Therion insists on paying for drinks this time.

Outside of the Tavern Saga, their other travel banters are about Alfyn giving a woman a drug-induced nightmare, Alfyn saying he's got Therion's back, and Therion saying "would you trust this friend of yours forever? No matter what? Even if he betrayed you?" And Alfyn just saying "yep"

THEY'RE GOOD DOGS BRENT!!! They have a really good dynamic! And you can even see the through line with their relationship growth. Like you know me I'm incapable of looking at these two and seeing anything besides a slow burn romance but if i take off my fuckin Queer Goggles for a half second it's still a very clear progression of Therion being like 'ugh cheery goodie two shoes wants to be friends. thats his problem' to these two having a genuine bond. Therion talking about trust with him, something that's very personal to him that he has a lot of issues with and he keeps very close to his chest. Alfyn being clear about having his back no matter what. They're close enough to be able to know they have each others backs, even after all Therion's been through and how long he's presumably been trying to keep everyone else at arm's length. All my shit aside, they're good friends! Canonically! Their relationship is interesting and fun to explore because they're so drastically different but mesh so well! Im love these two please feel free to talk to me about Alfyn and Therion in any context any time

[guttergirlcore]

A Den of Lions & Wolves

Cregan Stark x Lannister! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

SYNOPSIS // It's your wedding day. You're a daughter of the powerful Lannister Dynasty. In a move for power, your father weds you to the man they call the "Wolf of Winterfell," Lord Cregan Stark. You know nothing of the Lord, only that you are expected to be his wife and bring him heirs as soon as possible. You dare not hope for romance, but your wedding night brings more than a few surprises.

WARNINGS // HotD universe, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, possessive behavior, Lannister!reader, AFAB she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma, angst, stand-offish Cregan, smut ofc

>>READ RESPONSIBLY<<

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1.3K

Your eyes burn with the unshed tears you've been holding in all day. Across from you stands the formidable Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North and head of the Stark Dynasty. In a few short moments, you'll be his wife and forever-more, Lady Y/N Stark.

The thought alone feels like a snake wrapping around your throat, closing off any possibility of escape.

Still, Lord Stark is a better match than you could have hoped for. He comes with a powerful title and appears to be close to your own age. Your mother was but a child of ten and three when she married your father, the then-grown Lord Therion Lannister.

The officiant continues his speech, allowing you the time to retreat into your mind before you must deliver the obligated "I do."

Just as you begin to slip into thoughts of the possibly bleak future ahead, Lord Stark reaches a hooked finger below your chin, firmly lifting your gaze from the snow at your feet to his ice-grey eyes. The eyes of a wolf, you think.

His gaze dares you to look away, to disobey his silent command. You know better.

You remind yourself that it could be worse. Lord Stark is undoubtedly good-looking. Not that you knew anything of his personality. You've heard that he is a good and fair Lord, but what did that really mean? All you could hope is that he would be kinder than the family you come from.

"I do." His booming voice echoes out, completing his vows.

"And you?" The officiant turns his attention to you.

"I do." You quietly confirm. What was the alternative?

Lord Stark draws you in for a kiss. As his lips find yours, you can't help but feel the final chess piece move into place on the board of your life.

Your hands smooth over the brown fur hide draped across the bed. You sat nervously on the edge, your eyes darting to the closed door time and again. Your handmaidens escorted you here after your bath, clothing you in a simple sheer nightgown and instructing you to wait for your Lord. You knew what was to come next.

Before you left home, your mother informed you of the duties you'd be expected to assume as a wife. She kept it simple, but you caught on quickly.

"A woman's duty is to obey, whatever the command, however she can," you heard your mother in the back of your mind. You internally rebelled against the notion, but you dared not act out on your dissent. Instead, you waited, resolute on what would come.

The silver knob of the door begins to turn and you take a deep breath.

In walks your husband, still dressed in his wedding attire. He closes the door firmly behind him and stands silently above you, his gaze sharp and piercing. Though you've known him less than a day, you gathered that he is a man of few words.

"Do you know what you are to do?" Lord Stark demanded.

You recalled your mother's words once more.

"I am to obey you, my Lord. Please, use me as you will." You laid back onto the fur-lined bed, gaze fixing on the ceiling.

Your skin felt charged, ready to ignite. A few unbearably long seconds passed before he spoke again.

"You are my wife and Lady of Winterfell, and you'll be treated as such. I won't fuck you like some broodmare." His strong hands find yours on the bed and effortlessly pull you to your feet. Still, in your standing position, Lord Stark towers over you.

"May I undress you?" He asks.

You're stunned by his demeanor but nod your head in consent.

His fingers find the hem of your gown, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulls it off of you and lets it drop into a shimmery pool at your feet. Your face grows warm at your bareness as his eyes roam hungrily over your body.

He unhooks several clasps and buckles on his own clothing, letting each piece drop to the ground with heavy thuds and occasional metallic clangs until he, too, is bare before you.

Your gaze travels down his strong, muscled torso and lower. You barely stifle a gasp at his length.

He reaches for your hand and places it atop his abdomen, slowly pulling your hand down until it rests on his erect cock. Your gasp echoes throughout the room this time.

Lord Stark's lips feverishly find yours as he helps you pump your hand up and down his length a few times. His warm tongue prods at your mouth until you relent to him, welcoming him inside. When you've found a rhythm, he releases your hand and places his onto your heat, feeling your wetness coat the pads of his fingers. Slowly, he dips two fingers at your entrance, gathering the juices there and smearing it across your bottom lip. Just as quickly, he licks it off with a satisfied hum.

The pace of your hand on his swollen cock quickens and he draws your hand away.

"That's enough of that. I don't want to waste my seed on the floor." He commands, gently pushing you back to a seated position on the bed.

"Lay back and spread yourself for me," he says.

You do as you're told, legs pulling apart to reveal the sticky mess he's already managed to make of you.

"What I wouldn't give to savor you tonight, but we've both got duties to fulfill." He grumbles, his heavy footsteps thudding closer to you.

With another step, you feel the pressure of the red, leaking tip of his cock press against your hole. You take a deep gulp of air as he steadily pushes his way inside you, groaning loudly and filling you to your absolute capacity. Your hands spring to his toned back as he lay atop you.

The pressure of his enormous member is nearly painful, but he allows you a moment to adjust once he bottoms out, which you are grateful for.

Not in the mood for prolonging anymore, he begins to deeply pump inside of you. It doesn't take long for the pressure to turn pleasurable as your moans mix with his.

Your legs lift to wrap around his hips, allowing him further inside you. This earns you a deep and hungry kiss as Lord Stark picks up his pace, fucking into you more desperately now.

You feel the hard slap of his full balls against your pussy with each thrust, pulling your closer to your own release.

Lord Stark feels your nearing as you tighten impossibly harder on his throbbing cock.

"Let go for me, Y/N. Let go and I'll give you your reward." He commands, and you are surprised to find how similar commands can sound like begging in the right context.

As always, you obey, gushing around his length with a strained cry of euphoria. Just as the last waves of your orgasm wash over you, you feel your Lord's pulsing cock contract inside of you, and his hot seed filling your womb. His moans crescendo into shouts of pleasure, echoing against the stone walls of your bed chamber.

He stills inside you for a moment, still throbbing but coming down from his unbearable high. Once he's composed himself, he slowly pulls out of you and his seed threatens to spill out.

He shoves his thick fingers inside your sore hole, pushing his cum back in. "You'll keep this inside, do you understand?" He says, his wolf eyes staring into you.

"I expect to have you again in a fortnight," he commands, hastily dressing in the clothes he'd discarded on the floor not long ago. "The handmaidens will make sure your needs are met while I am away."

"Yes, Lord Stark." You nod your head in understanding, too overstimulated by the day's events to ask any further questions.

"Please, it's Cregan. No need for the formalities. After all, that's my seed filling your cunt, is it not?" With that, Lord Cregan Stark swept out of the room.

[mandiemegatron]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑨 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆

𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝒄𝒊𝒔!𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

♡ 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅: 𝑴 18+ 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀. // 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒙.

𝘼/𝙉: 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙡 𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊💖💖💖💖!!!! 𝙎𝙤, 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙈𝙧. 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙬𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙡, 𝙨𝙤 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙚 !!! 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙃𝙐𝙂𝙀 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙮-𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙖♡ @therion-woods , 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙚!!! 🤭🤭🤭💖💖💖

𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 !! 💖💖💖💖

𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒚 ; @baka-tsuki // @baka-tsuki-2 ♡

One drink at the bar.

That was all you promised Zoro, was one goddamn drink.

And here you were, four drinks in and almost leaning on the swordsman, laughing loudly at whatever joke he decided to crack.

His arm rested comfortably around your hip, his large hand cradling your hip bone, a warm thumb brushing over your clothed skin every once in a while. You waved off an irate Sanji, who huffed and puffed at you 'being manhandled by the ugliest runt to ever wander the Grand Line', which caused the green haired man to snap back, his grip on you tightening as he literally pulled you to him, your empty hand pressing against his chest to catch yourself.

Your face burned as you looked up at him, a childish retort falling away from your lips as he turned to stare back, his earrings slightly swaying at his head snapping to look down at you.

It went quiet in your head, your eyes seemingly locked together until Nami's voice shattered the stillness, her teasing tone ringing out,

"Geez, get a room already!"

Usopp and Brook let out a loud, "OooOoo!" which caused Zoro to glare at them before he grabbed your hand from his chest and began dragging you away, angry puffs of smoke seeming to rise from his head as you walked away from the now laughing group.

Zoro was murmuring to himself, dragging you to wherever his terrible sense of direction decided was best and surprisingly, you came out to the open blues, the Thousand Sunny resting peacefully at the dock. Gentle waves crashed into the shoreline, filling the air with calm, which you assumed was why Zoro came this way.

"Huh. I was definitely trying to get to the other bar," he muttered, clearly confused as his free hand scratched the top of his head.

Your mouth dropped open in utter surprise and shock, unable to believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"You mean the one that was BESIDE the one we were in?!"

He turned to you, an almost horrified shocked look on his face as he shouted back,

"It was BESIDE us?!"

You snapped back,

"YES, YOU FUCKING BROKEN LOGPOSE!"

He gave a sharp "Oi!" in response before taking you back the way you both came. You rolled your eyes with a loud groan and tightened your grip, glad you weren't so tipsy you couldn't walk or navigate easily.

"You never cease to amaze me, Zo," you commented lightly, throwing him a withering look over your shoulder to which he pouted the second you turned back, going back to muttering under his breath.

"You better not say anything," he bit out, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him before you laughed out,

"As if I need to. Everyone knows you'd get lost in a paper bag if you had the chance."

He stopped walking, pulling you towards him as he moved you to an alley, not too far from the first bar the rest of the crew was drinking dry.

Pressing your back against the brick building, he stared down at you, his cheeks tinted pink as he grumbled down at you,

"You don't know shit."

You laughed, realizing he was probably a little tipsy, at least enough to be so close to you. He always seemed to be nervous around you when he was sober, almost anxious whenever your hand brushed over his shoulder or his head when you passed him.

He was nothing like that now.

His hands rested on your shoulders, almost a little too tight as he asked,

"... why are you blushing?"

You chuckled weakly and rolled your eyes, giving him a cheeky look through thick lashes as your murmured softly,

"I don't know, maybe it's 'cause I've been thinking about something like this happening for a long time."

The second the words left you, you froze and a small squeak of embarrassment left you as you covered your face, unable to look at him.

Zoro choked on his breath, staring you down with a wide eye before his expression changed into an almost predatory one, sending shivers over your entire form.

Staring you down like a starved man, Zoro rose his eyebrow, a slow smirk washing over his face as he asked,

"You've wanted this for how long?"

Your face dropped, cheeks burning red at your accidental blubbering. You shook your head with a slightly nervous laugh, waving him away with a lazy hand as you responded,

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A heavy hand landed roughly on the wall behind your head, his bulky frame seeming to tower over you and cage you in. You froze, eyes wide as you stared up at him as he nearly purred out,

"If you think I'm going to play stupid, you're wrong."

A shaky breath left you as his other hand came up to cradle your cheek, a rough padded thumb brushing over your soft skin almost as if you'd shatter under his touch. Your eyes fell shut, your head tilting slightly to lean into his touch as your hands slowly moved up his chest.

Zoro sucked in a harsh breath, holding it as your gentle hands moved over his toned, scarred chest, his stomach twisting and flipping around as your fingers traced over his scar from Mihawk.

He didn't know why he felt so compelled to kiss you, but before he could question himself, he moved in and his lips were pressed against yours, his hand gliding from your face to grip your hair at the base of your head. He tilts your head back and his tongue runs along your lips, begging for entrance which you give willingly, pulling a low groan from the swordsman.

Your hands move up to the back of his neck, your fingers pressing into the base of his head and down his neck, pulling another sound of pleasure from Zoro as your magic digits pulled all the anxiety from his muscles. He pulled away to nip and suck at the side of your throat, your head falling back and you grunt in pain as your head hits rough brick.

Zoro pulled away to raise an eyebrow at you, smirking to himself before he murmured, "Stupid."

You couldn't even respond, his lips immediately returning to your neck and leaving small marks over your skin. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, keeping you from hitting brick again as his other hand gripped your ass, his thigh sliding between your legs and grinding up against your warmth. Zoro moaned against your skin, his breathing shaky as he groaned out,

"Gods, I can feel how soaked you are,"

Your breath hitched, eyes rolling back at the ecstatic feeling of pleasure running over you. You unconsciously humped against his leg slightly, moaning softly when he moved up into you.

"Desperate, aren't you?" He murmured in your ear before he easily flipped you around, your ass pressing into his very evident boner as he gently moved your hands to the rough brick.

Ripping your shirt off, he handed it to you and instructed you with a husky voice to hold it to the wall, keeping your palms from scratching and bruising. You stared at the fabric before staring up at him with wide eyes, trying not to freak out.

"Zo…. This was Nami's."

The swordsman's face fell, a look of fear crossing it as he stared at the ruined fabric, his lips pressing into a thin line before he finally shrugged and replied,

"Shit happens."

You went to reply but one of his hands snaked around your front, immediately shoving down the front of your yoga pants and cupping your sex. He groaned with a wide grin, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you gave a low moan, reveling in his touch.

Two of his fingers pressed over your soaked slit, his lips grinning against your skin at the sounds he pulled from you.

"I've barely touched you and you're already this soaked," he mumbles, pressing hot kisses to your skin as one finger traces around your clit. Once again you unconsciously move against him, your ass pressing into his clothed cock as one of his fingers finally slides into you.

Your mouth falls open, an almost silent plea for him not to stop leaving you which he happily obliged. He sucked a few more marks onto your skin, smirking to himself at the constellations he marred you with, a sense of pride filling him at the sounds that came from you. A second finger fell into you and you nearly came then and there, thankfully for his other hand that gently slapped over your mouth to keep you from being too loud.

"Tsk, come on princess, you know better," he purred in your ear, his ego growing three sizes at seeing your eyes roll back simply at his fingers.

He curled his fingers and you came, almost falling against him as your body twitched, one of your hands moving from the brick to grip around his forearm as much as you could to try and stop him.

You couldn't.

A high pitched whine fell from you as he kept going, feeling a strange pressure and you almost yelped at the sudden gush that came from you. Zoro pulled you tight to his chest, his breathing erratic and eye wide as he realized what he just made you do.

"Do that again," he demanded roughly, his pace picking up slightly as he pounded into you. It didn't take long, warmth gushing over his fingers and pulling a soft, breathy laugh from him. He finally stilled, two fingers still squished inside your now throbbing cunt and you were able to catch your breath, eyes opening to stare up at a very pleased looking Zoro.

"I want to make you do that over and over," he admitted with a sharky grin, slowly pulling his hand from your pants. He stared down at his soaked hand and gave a shaky sigh, eye closing as he licked your juices from his palm and fingers, your face burning bright red at the sight. When he was satisfied, he grinned down at you again and whispered,

"Let's go back to the ship."

You threw the ruined shirt back on and grunted softly at how it hung off your bra-covered chest. You hummed for a moment before daisy-duke tying it, the knot sitting in the middle of your breasts comfortably. You then looked up at him with a grin of your own, gripping his hand into yours as you leaned up into a quick kiss, your heart racing as he kissed you back feverishly.

He frowned when you pulled away, tugging you closer to him as you began to lead him back towards the ship.

"I think this time though, you should let me have a little taste," you teased, falling in step with him. Your words caused a fire to rage inside him, and he immediately threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your shout of indignation, and the second the Sunny was in view, he raced towards the ship.

Tagging requested // @honeysworld-offanfiction ♡ 🤭🤭💖💖

[black-arcana]

A beginner’s guide to symphonic metal in 5 albums

Few genres do grandiose like symphonic metal. As the name suggests, it marries the scope and ambition of classical music to the power of metal. The result is orchestral, opulent and sometimes OTT, but it’s a hard heart that is completely resistant to it.

The seeds of the sound were sown in the 80s, when diverse trailblazers such as Celtic Frost and Savatage began incorporating orchestral instruments into their music. But it began to accelerate in the late 1990s, with bands such as Therion, Nightwish, Within Temptation and cult favourites Haggard began to properly fuse the two genres.

Today, symphonic metal has become an unlikely commercial force. Nightwish and Within Temptation are festival headliners, while a constant stream of newer bands have emerged in their wake. For anyone who is new to this grandest of genres, these are the five albums to start with.   

Therion – Secret Of The Runes (2001)

Therion remain the original and – the purists would have you believe – the best of all the symphonic metal acts. Named in honour of Celtic Frost’s second album To Mega Therion, the Swedes have been led by multi-instrumentalist Christofer Johnsson since 1987. While others have prospered by ‘sexing-up’ the genre’s principles, the Therion experience remains a pure one – sackcloth and ashes, almost. Take our word, it’s a beautiful thing.

After Forever – Decipher (2001)

The second album from this pioneering and much-missed Dutch outfit, who ran from 1995 to 2009, Decipher employed live classical instruments and a full choir to complement the stirring soprano delivery of Floor Jansen (now, of course, with Nightwish). Soon afterwards Mark Jansen quit, taking his growled co-vocals along to the guitarist’s next band of note, Epica. The album’s grandiose arrangements still sound masterful today.

Within Temptation – The Silent Force (2004)

Although you’re likely to be distracted by the captivating strength of Sharon den Adel’s upfront vocal dynamism, Within Temptation’s symphonic aspirations reached their most querulously romantic apex on this goosebump-inducing masterwork of the form. Although the guitars were louder and crunchier than on 2000’s Mother Earth, and the open- hearted pop savvy was at full widescreen pelt, this 2004 follow-up confirmed the band’s special affinity for wizardly orchestral bombast, here performed by the Ego Works Session Orchestra, under the noted Russian conductor Felix Korobov.

Epica – The Quantum Enigma (2014)

Formed by former After Forever guitarist Mark Jansen, Epica played a crucial part in the development of symphonic metal via a string of consistently impressive releases, but with The Quantum Enigma – their sixth studio record – the Dutch band raised the bar to a whole different level, hiring a live chamber choir and a string orchestra to enhance a collection of tunes that is uniformly strong. Throw in the soaring vocals of flame-haired mezzo-soprano  Simone Simons and the results are seismic.

Nightwish – Endless Forms Most Beautiful (2015)

You could pick anything from 2000’s Wishmaster onwards, but the Finns’ first album with Floor Jansen represents Peak Nightwish in terms of a grandiosity. A high-concept exploration of evolutionary science, featuring narration from scientist Richard Dawkins, it’s an absolute triumph. From the full-pelt throttle of Shudder Before The Beautiful and cinematic bombast of Weak Fantasy to the  life affirming anthemia of Alpenglow, it’s a constant stream of brilliance. Then there’s The Greatest Show On Earth, a 25-minute show-stopper most bands could only dream of writing. It’s no surprise this was the record that turned Nightwish into festival and arena headliners.

[talesofourworlds]

@ofstarsandskies The wheel of fate chose... Magilou for your starter!

Another day, another round of taking on the Abbey in the name of Velvet's revenge. Magilou was used to how things worked by then. After all, she had her own reasons for sticking around the one the people had begun calling a Lord of Calamity. She already had Bienfu back, and was making sure the little Normin knew his place all over again, but the chance to deal with Melchior was oh too pleasing to pass up.

Their return to Loegres for the day, unfortunately, had naught to do with her own personal gain. It just happened to be the easiest city to access in the name of resupplying before hitting the open ocean again. All in the name of therion hunting, she supposed. However, after the last therion they had tracked down had turned out to be a bust in the form of a cursed urn from the ocean, she wasn't sure what they were hoping to gain. Laphicet seemed certain their next goal was somewhere in the direction of Taliesin, though. The sooner they headed there, the sooner things could get interesting again. Or so Magilou thought, anyway. Since everyone else was occupied with gathering supplies, she took to the streets.

Truth be told, she thought things seemed much more quiet in town than they ought to have. For a place that was essentially Abbey headquarters, she would have thought they would be on more of a high alert. Or was it, perhaps, that they were otherwise occupied in trying to get their other therions up to snuff? They were trying to awaken Innominat, after all. Busy stuff, right there.

"Shouldn't we be sticking closer to the others, Miss Magilou?" Bienfu's voice brought Magilou out of her thoughts. She shook her head.

"Nah. Velvet's a big girl. She can handle herself without little old me hanging around while she shops. Besides!" Magilou twirled as she walked. "Anything's better than hanging around while Rokurou tries to haggle for better wea-"

Crash! Magilou backed right into a man in his twenties without even realizing. She let out a yell of surprise before tumbling to the ground.

"Ow!"

"What in the world just happened?? How could this happen to the great witch Magilou?" Magilou didn't expect an answer, but she did look up to see who she'd actually rammed into. A man who couldn't have been all that much older than Velvet, she realized, with white hair. A rather unique individual. A local of Loegres? She wondered.

And what would he have to say for himself in response to colliding with her?

[beantothemax]

card tricks :)

“It seems like you have a pretty solid foundation. Not surprising, with how much you use your hands.” Therion nodded, collecting the cards back and beginning to shuffle again. “There’s parts that can use some work. Your movements could use some more confidence, and you have a habit of hesitating.” He spread the deck across the table in one fluid motion, the blue motifs on the back making a line across the pale wood. He pulled out the queen of cups and held it up to Alfyn. “Remember this one.” Therion waited until the apothecary turned his attention from the card back to him before continuing, collecting the cards back into a deck and shuffling the queen into it. “A lot of that confidence building is gonna come down to repetition and practice.” He broke the deck in half, flipping one side face-up before shuffling them back into the deck. “That’s unavoidable.”

Alfyn’s eyes didn’t leave Therion’s hands once as he pulled a few seemingly random cards out of the deck to illustrate its state of disorder and put them back into the deck. “Even if you don’t know it by heart, though, it’s always worth remembering…” The thief got some satisfaction as Alfyn looked into his eyes once more, a spark of that light he always emitted flickering gently in his gaze. Therion spread the cards over the table once again with a flourish, every single one of them backside up, except for one. He pulled the queen of cups, facing up, and handed it to Alfyn. “You’re the one in control.”

apparently the queen of cups represents caring and compassion and stuff like that so that’s a very alfyn card!

I haven’t thought about it much but theri doing card tricks actually sounds delightful. he does a few for tressa and she’s in AWE and will NOT stop pestering him until he shows her how he did it.

also I’m sorry but seeing that drawing you just posted has tainted my mind. I can’t read this without picturing alfyn just. sitting there thinking about how he wants to kiss therion stupid the entire time theri does his little trick

I like this a lot so far! good luck with writing the rest of the fic!

[starghost-fics]

you know what I haven't done in a while? Played this game, or OT2. I should do that. It's not like I don't have enough on my to-do list.

anyway, here's another chapter of Cyrus's day that wouldn't end.

Chapter 4—dream in vain of saintliness: After waking up from another death, Cyrus consults Ophilia on spiritual matters. On the road, he recalls another shrine and a night in Bolderfall with Therion.

commentary below the cut:

It's Cyrus's turn for a conversation/light therapy with Ophilia! I really love writing Ophilia like this, if you couldn't tell from the conversations she had with Therion in the previous fic

i could not be bothered to try to find out if somewhere in the ever-expanding lore of this game there is a definite answer as to what they think of an afterlife or pretty much any other aspect of religion, so i MADE IT UP

I MADE IT ALL UP

hilariously to me, Ophilia is happy to talk theology when someone asks, but when it's up to her she wants to dish about relationships

god shit

hey you know what's annoying about writing any fic in which the source material has 8 protagonists with separate storylines that overlap in location but not anything else and you want the geographical and emotional progression of their travels to make even the slightest bit of sense? EVERYTHING

I had at least three different things I had to revise around when I thought again about the storylines

even in this fic when they are mostly in the same stretch of road!

But gosh darn it, I could be sure that they went roughly from Dreisang to Bolderfall to Atlasdam, and then on around the central lake to the riverlands where the cyclical part of the story takes place

once the idea occurred to me, there was no way I was resisting the scenes in Bolderfall

especially Cyrus being taken by surprise by being invited back to his boyfriend's room

ohhhh Therion.

okay thank you for reading!

[these-detestable-hands]

THE GIRL WITH THE BARKING LAUGH

As the elf, the dragon and the fairy wandered through the bustling streets of Rippletide, they noticed a few things.

The things the elf noticed:

• People rarely watched their valuables here.

• Merchant booths were left unattended.

• There were guardsmen everywhere. Not surprising, considering this town was at the feet of the grandest castle any of them had ever seen.

The things the dragon noticed:

• There were several people with a terrible cough.

• People were selling fake dragon scales for more than his entire hoard back home was worth.

• There was a great, hulking guardsman haggling with a girl at a booth, shiny red apples gleaming in the afternoon light. The girl had brown hair that was speckled with grey, and a barking laugh. The guard smiled genially at the girl, then handed over a few golden coins. She thanked him in a loud, chipper voice, and he left.

The things the fairy noticed:

• All the things the boys did, at different intervals. First, the guards everywhere. Then, the singular guard. Then, the girl with the barking laugh.

The three of them wandered around a bit more, and Therion the elf decided to “pay” a visit to the booth with the shiny apples. The girl with the sleak hair smiled a gap-toothed smile at him, and he scowled at her. She just shrugged and leaned against her booth. “How many?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked ‘how many’. Y’know, like how many apples do you want? It’s 2 leaves per apple.”

Therion couldn’t put his finger on why, but the attitude of the girl infuriated him. He continued to scowl, and responded dourly. “4.”

“Alright, that’ll be... 8 leaves, please!” She held out a palm, and Therion dropped the leaves into it, before disappearing with more apples than what he’d paid for under his shawl. He regrouped with Primrose and Alfyn, who both seemed equally disgruntled as he was. Primrose had been called things that no self-respecting elf would dare utter, and Alfyn had been called a liar and a thief for pointing out that a merchant’s wares had been fake.

“Well, then. Shall we go?” Therion asked, but before they could, the girl from the apple booth caught up with them. “Hey! Hey!” She yelled, forcing all of them to turn around.

“What in the 7 rings of-” Primrose started to curse, but the girl cut her off. “Oi! You lot are travelers, right?”

Alfyn hesitantly nodded. “That’s right. Why you ask?”

The girl stood up, tall and proud. “I want to come with you. My name is Tressa Colzione.”

Therion was the first to react- and he scoffed. “You’re a child. Hardly seen enough winters to survive the trip to the next town over, let alone where we’re going.” He folded his arms, but Tressa wasn’t willing to give up so easily. She adjusted her fur coat (what the hell was she doing wearing a fur coat in the middle of summer anyways?) and mirrored him, folding her arms. “I can be useful. I know when storms are coming, I’m a damn fine fisher, and I’m handy with a harpoon.”

Primrose considered this, as did the others. All were definitely useful, Tressa was right.

Once again, it was Therion who broke the silence. “Fine, you can trail along. But if you weigh us down, it’s back here with you. Understand?”

Tressa brightened, nodding enthusiastically. “Of course! When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Alfyn said. Tressa punched the air triumphantly.

“That’ll give me plenty of time to find my travel sack. You lot won’t regret this!”

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OUGH I LOVE HOW SILLY IT IS AND EEEEEEEEEEEE I love the idea of selkie Tressa so much more than I could ever explain you do not understand ough ougggggggggggggg

[aeniqmata]

💍 Wedding Attire  - theriontheriontheroinrkmfg || @bishonenprince​ || dress-up meme ( accepting )

To say that he was nervous was an understatement. One of the last things Therion ever expected to happen to him was marriage. Dying in a ditch, yep. Darius coming back from the dead to push him off another cliff, absolutely. Abandoned by someone he came to care about because they thought that saving a morally bankrupt thief was better than securing their own survival, already happened, he has the trauma pack from that. 

So when, years after finding this boy nearly in tears in a strange town that had more animals than people in it, he hardly expected to be tagging along on one of the most fantastical adventures he’d ever been on. Between being turned into a literal half fish to watching this boy literally stab himself with a smile on his face, there really hadn’t been much that he’d expected to surprise him after all was said and done.

Having this kid ( so much younger than him, why did he have so much affection for the broken husk of a man ) suddenly propose to him with all the seriousness that his lost companions had promised they wouldn’t ever abandon him was startling and a little terrifying. And at the time, he’d said yes because who knew what was over the horizon and lurking to kill the child again.

And then they got separated, hanging with the loudest duck he’d ever seen in his life, and the absolutely terrifying dog that could take on the biggest of creatures with such a small shield until they could find Sora again. So long, trying his hardest not to set the mage on fire for his grating voice and general lack of decorum when it came to someone that you called a friend being entirely missing.

So when they’d finally found him again, Therion didn’t bother stopping himself from running forward to grab the boy out of the frankly terrifying flower ( egg, or a mouth of some creature he’d only seen in Orsterra; sandworms didn’t exist here ). 

The whole time they wandered around this city, Sora continued introducing them to people that they met, ever the helpful person. The first time Sora spoke up with a “ I’m Sora! That’s Goofy, our traveling duck, and my husband Therion! “ he had thump himself on the chest when he suddenly choked on his own saliva. He didn’t have the time to stop the ear grating sounds coming from the duck about having a name, far too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

It was only when they met a man named Yen-Sid that he would take Sora aside and ask about the introduction. Because for once, he didn’t really mind the idea of being married to someone, caring far too much for the other if this was just a joke. And the moment Sora’s face contorted into confusion at the thought of joking about something like that.

And now... all that he had to do was wait for Sora to actually come and join him on the little island, sitting in the sand and trying very hard not to find somewhere he could sit and hide. It was fine, the other people on this little island were giving him a wide berth. 

What else would you do when a man dressed to the nines showed up and just sat staring at the ocean for seemingly ever?

[lunaetis]

@shining-gem34 asked :

Witnessing Velvet mysterious left arm, the crimson hue reminds him of the blood on his hands. The days where his spoilt naiveite, blindly following a man he consider his father-figure, led to a tragedy he can never undo. Luke will never forget Akzeriuth; never forget the little boy begging for help. Even if his dreams turns into nightmares, it was a punishment he accepted wholeheartedly. The color of his sins, bright red like blood, Luke will never forget. But, he doesn't have to associate red with just his sins. When he sees Velvet Crowe, her color is one of an avenger seeking justice for the wrongs done to her. Her soul burns brightly, a searing crimson red that makes it hard to look at. Yet, Luke doesn't look away. Instead, he's fascinated by it. She almost reminds him of Asch. "Woah! That was so cool, Velvet! Do you think you can do that thing with your arm again?" Luke praises, gesturing to her bandaged arm. His green eyes sparkling, round and wide just like a puppy. "It looks so cool!" ||SMH I shove Luke Fon Fabre to your Velvet. Context? Context Nani?

unprompted. || always accepting

─「ベルベット」─  the THERION didn't like unleashing the power in her left arm in front of people. while one such as herself was used to being looked at with fear in their eyes, it didn't mean her heart was cold enough to not feel the sting when seeing the HATRED of their directed gaze or the scream when they bellowed for her to go away. to get away from them, even if it was her who had saved them from worse fate.

                MONSTER !!                 GO AWAY !! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER !!

                it did not matter one bit. even as the THIRST, the hunger of the daemon was slowly sated, she could feel the eyes of the redhead searing onto her back, onto the BURNING CRIMSON HAND that she unleashed to devour its opponent. that was all this was, all she was. humanity stripped away from every fiber of her being and replaced by the insatiable hunger to consume — more and more.

                until her entire being was dripping red.

                velvet was expecting him to draw his WEAPON against her, to point his blade at the person who just saved both of them, realizing that the THREAT was not that daemon she devoured but her. yet —

                " huh ? " surprise colored her features INSTANTLY, golden hues blinked as she stared dumbfound at the male who gazed at her with sparkly eyes. wait, was he really looking at her in excitement ? the SANGUINE AURA already subsided now that the threat was no more, and aureate met with emerald as he shifted closer like an enthusiastic puppy.

                what ... ?

                " cool ... ? what are you ... ? aren't you scared ? " she just devoured an entire DAEMON right in front of him ! what's going on here ?

[theprecuresystem]

I attended my first Official OTS today...

I've been attending Locals for a while, but my local store was hosting an Official Konami OTS tournament with an Official Konami judge. It was structured very differently from how Locals was, and took me a bit of time to get things set up.

We were told to arrive an hour early to fill out a special form - this form would detail our entire deck list. Each card had to be written exactly as named (including any punctuation or quotation marks), which meant no abbreviations would be allowed. For example, you can't write `Karakuri Gama` or `Karakuri Shirokunishi` to represent the frog tuner, you have to write `Karakuri Gama mdl 4624 "Shirokunishi"`, or the decklist won't be accepted. You may be forced to play a different card of the name you had written down, if one shares that name. (Superheavy Samurai Monk Big Benkei and Superheavy Samurai Big Benkei are good examples of this.)

Here's how the decklist form looked:

I decided to bring my Karakuri deck along and hope for the best - although it's not very meta, it can make good plays with the right hands... but that's part of the problem. It needs good hands.

Every hand I got this tournament, I either bricked incredibly hard, or my opponent had ways to stop every action I wanted to manage - droll & lock bird, ash blossom & joyous spring, infinite impermanence. It was a tough ride for those five rounds... my record went as such - Lose, Draw, Lose, Lose, Lose.

Even so, I still had fun! In the second match, I won the first game easily with my karakuri board actually getting set up - a naturia beast, two bureibu, and a therion king regulus... I managed to deal enough damage and win. The second game in that match, my opponent brought out a lyrilusc monster that inflicted the battle damage dealt to both of us - resulting in both of our lifepoints hitting 0 simultaneously. I lost the third game to time, and that entire second match becoming a draw was glorious.

I recall in match 3, my opponent was using Raidraptors, and managed to get over 9,000 damage towards me in one turn... I'm genuinely surprised that was possible in a single turn, but it allowed me to witness what other decks are capable of! I really enjoyed myself! I hope to attend more official events in the future...

[inn-witch]

Alfyn's Story is Incredibly Good, Fuck You

So. Alfyn Greengrass. A talented young apothecary who cares for his fellow villagers in the small town of Clearbrook. He grew up with the son of another apothecary, Zeph, and nearly died from a plague called the Great Pestilence, if not for the timely intervention of a traveling apothecary. That apothecary healed him effortlessly, and didn't even ask for payment.

His actual story starts when Zeph's sister is poisoned by a giant, dangerous snake. He- singlehandedly- goes and knocks out the snake, hitting some incredible sass and saving Zeph's sister's life. After his first chapter, Alfyn is firmly characterized as idealistic and kind, inspired by the kindness shown to him when he was a child and backed up by his obvious strength and talent.

In the second chapter, Alfyn's attitude is shown to be the obviously right thing to do. He puts the sick before anything, literally going to befriend his rival apothecary even though she's taking business- or exposure, since he's not asking for money- away from him. Vanessa, however, happens to be a fan of the American healthcare system and refuses to continue treating a poor young girl (toddler?) whose mother can't keep up with payment. So, naturally, he goes to get the necessary ingredients to treat the girl from a nearby monster-filled cave, because it's the right thing to do. Things take a turn, however when he finds out that Vanessa is not only a fan but a true connoisseur of hyper-capitalist, classist, greed-fueled, and overwhelmingly societally harmful healthcare systems. She's been poisoning her patients, then selling the cure at exorbitant prices, the dead be damned. He, rightfully, goes apeshit. He doesn't kill her. She's a criminal, and she deserves to be looked up- though some torture is in order, so he gets her with slumberthorn. (Look up his chapter 2 travel banter with Therion.) He returns with the medicine and leaves, his idealistic and somewhat naive worldview having been justified and reinforced. [On a side note, I love how often JRPG developers accidentally/purposefully criticize capitalistic or generally shitty societal norms and systems because they're so obviously and comically bad. I wonder why that happens! /s]

As we reach the third chapter, Alfyn is living his dream, healing whoever we can and mercilessly slaying monsters. But his straightforward approach to the world is challenged when he comes across another apothecary- Ogen- who tells him not to treat a wounded man he comes across. Alfyn is annoyed at Ogen's callousness, and heals him anyway. He goes around town, and learns that Miguel is apparently a thief and murderer. Alfyn is still determined to help him, refusing to leave anyone to die- the opposite of Ogen's jaded claim that some people are not worth healing. Within, like, two cutscenes, the freshly-healed man has kidnapped a child and flees into the nearby forest. Alfyn feels very guilty and quickly shows that the Octopath universe has no hippocratic oath by murdering his patient. As he leaves town, he runs into Ogen, who explains how he used to treat everyone just like Alfyn. He once cured a wanted criminal, but that same criminal then murdered his wife and fled. His confidence shaken and his optimism cut off entirely, Alfyn departs.

Alfyn makes his way to the plague-stricken town of Orewell, still shaken by the incident in chapter 3. Many townspeople are sick and in need of his help, but he is hesitant. Ogen arrives, to Alfyn's surprise, and his fellow apothecary refuses Alfyn's offer to help. Alfyn finishes his work and goes to the tavern, and is soon joined by Ogen, who remarks that his work seems sloppier- almost as if his "heart wasn't in it." Alfyn replies that he has been wondering "Who- what am I really doing this for?" and that he doesn't know anymore. Ogen remarks that it goes the same for him. Alfyn notices that his hands seem to be shaking, but Ogen denies it and leaves. Later that night, a man who was treated by Ogen calls Alfyn, saying his fever is worsening, and explaining that Ogen can't help since he seems to be exhausted. He adds that Ogen dropped his tools more than twenty times while healing him and eventually wandered away while coughing. The next morning, Alfyn confronts Ogen, who once again denies any problem. His deterioration is betrayed, however, by a violent coughing fit. He still refuses Alfyn's help, but the young doctor ignores his defiance when Ogen coughs up blood. Ogen relents, saying: "Go ahead and treat me, then...if you can." Alfyn quickly sees that Ogen is basically a walking corpse, afflicted with all manner of symptoms and nearing death. Ogen simply replies, "Tell me something I don't know." He then walks off. Alfyn is confused as to why he didn't get help if he knew, and questions some of the townsfolk Ogen treated. Ogen, when prompted, explains that after his wife was killed by one of his own patients, he left on a journey, aimless and broken, just looking to help whoever he could. Eventually, he came across his wife's murderer, now happily married with a 5-year old. Ogen became enraged and murdered what was once his patient. He fled and continued his journey, now deeply suicidal and refusing to treat himself for anything, considering his own life not worth saving.

Alfyn goes out, unsure about what to do, and thinks to himself: "Ogen is determined to die. That's the answer he's come to...after a long and harrowing journey. What right do I have to think I know better?" He laments his insignificance against the world, but then happens upon a letter from Zeph in which his childhood friend urges him to just do what he feels is right, with his head held high. Alfyn collects himself, and shouts: "I know what I need to do, and gods be damned if anyone'll keep me from doin' it!" He returns to Ogen, ignoring his refusal of help with "So you're a stinkin' murderer. A sinner, huh? Great! Like I give a damn! It ain't my job to choose who lives and who dies! I ain't no god! If it's in my power to help a body, I'll be damned if that ain't what I'm gonna do! That's why I became an apothecary! That's what I believe in!" He realizes that the man's symptoms are the same as his from his illness during the Great Pestilence. Using the power of JRPG story bullshit, he asks the apothecary who healed him about the cure in his own memories, and goes off to get the special ingredient needed for the remedy from an extremely dangerous Ogre Eagle. He heals Ogen and learns that they were both once saved by Graham Crossford. Then, after making a grave to memorialize that traveler, leaves Orewell to save the lives of whoever else needs saving.

SO! Analysis time. Alfyn's story is set up like a cynical "lessons learned" kind of plot where a young, naive character is punished for that naïveté and becomes jaded and cynical. His worldview is created by his backstory, reinforced and extended by his first two chapters, then abruptly smashed to pieces with a lawn mower by that asshole Miguel. The beauty of the plot is in his fourth chapter, when Alfyn is pushed to the brink by learning Ogen's past and self-inflicted atonement... and he holds strong.

He treated a criminal who then kidnapped and hurt a child, and he still holds strong.

A man is dying and refuses his help, and he holds strong.

His small-town, narrow, naive worldview has been entirely shit on, and it DOESNT MATTER.

Because Alfyn isn't a god. He's not here to make decisions of life and death. He was a sick kid, who society decided should die because he couldn't afford treatment. But one man ignored that, and saved his life because it was the right thing to do. It's not his job to deal with the morality of a person. It's his job to help whoever needs helping, no matter what. Alfyn starts the game naive, and is punished for it. But instead of becoming like Ogen, and hating himself, he redoubles his belief with the confidence of someone who has experienced some of the worst possible consequences for those beliefs.

I dunno, man. I just feel this story in my bones. I love Alfyn so much.

[viridiave]

Madness of Manuscripts

Or, the Octopath Traveler stageplay produced by King Khalim

Some minor spoilers for Post-game are in this soooo

> Nobody likes going back to Everhold, but the Travelers' weakness in the face of King Khalim's enthusiasm is great. So off to Everhold they go to find an actual good playwright that won't remind Primrose of that fuck Simeon. (Team OOPA? Like Oompa Loompa?)

> As it turns out they did manage to find a person, and he's more than happy to tag along and get kidnapped by Ophilia. This ends up with a trip in which Alfyn describes- in great detail-- their whole journey on the way back to Marsalim.

> Turns out H'aanit was doing the exact same thing back in Marsalim, at that banquet that King Khalim promised he'd hold for her. Z'aanta is very amused and more than a little proud. (Team HotCat I guess they have Linde with them)

> So the other half of the gang managed to get back to Marsalim, and immediately King Khalim proposes that they hold a play about their 8 great tales. Primrose's stage play-related PTSD did not hinder her other hidden talent for criticizing whatsoever.

> In the end they couldn't say no. Except for Therion, who smartly proposed that their names be changed for the final cut because what are you all doing, are you all trying to shoot your privacy in the foot? You idiots-

> Everyone went their own separate ways after this. Many hugs were shared and many tears were shed. Yes, even from Therion.

> (it's to no one's surprise that he ends up tagging along with Alfyn when the apothecary decided to continue traveling around after a stopover in Clearbrook.)

> Months later King Khalim rushes out of his room with an obnoxious 'EUREKA' and wants to deliver his manuscripts to Everhold to invite some of their experts for assistance.

> Gods bless his messenger, because they have no idea where Everhold is, and somehow stumbled their way into Bolderfall. In the complete opposite direction.

> Shenanigans would lead them to Ravus Manor, where the Lady Ravus is extremely curious about the manuscripts the messenger is carrying.

> Of course the messenger also has absolutely no ability to read a room, and because it wasn't like King Khalim told them anything about this being a private thing (except for the ending. He's extremely protective of his totally cool ending), they spill everything.

> And because Heathcote isn't so much of a boomer that he'd waste an opportunity to let Cordelia do something fun for once, he slips one of her fanfictions inside the messenger's satchels. He's confident enough that the planets would align to make his plan work as long as the messenger actually learns how to read that map once he'd pointed them to the direction of Everhold.

> They do actually learn how to read that map. Inefficiently. This is how they end up on the road to Atlasdam from the Frostlands instead of going back the way they came.

> This messenger is competent, they promise- they have very specific things that they're good at. Turns out holding onto their belongings is not one of those things, and this is how they end up losing the manuscripts. Luckily for them, Princess Mary and Therese were taking a stroll where they lost it.

> Unluckily for them, Princess Mary decides she wants to be in on this stage play about her former professor and his ragtag bunch of fellow misfits. Therese proves herself to be a fantastic enabler.

> So after pointing the messenger to the actual correct direction to Everhold, Princess Mary sends a messenger of her own to Marsalim detailing her and her cousin's unquenchable urge to be part of the writing and direction team. It's written like a declaration of war, as Gloria finds when she checks the mail.

> The messenger thankfully actually does manage to make it to Everhold, and on the way back they meet Kit, who's more than happy to accompany them back to Marsalim ("The Impresario has been sending me letters!" I hope they're doing well,").

> Once they do both make it back King Khalim practically tackles the messenger in excitement, holding up the letter Princess Mary sent them. The poor messenger gets tackled again a few days later when King Khalim finds Cordelia Ravus's fanfiction mixed up with the original manuscript, begging them to get the Lady Ravus to Marsalim.

> The messenger low-key feels like they fucked up. Kit is thankfully a very comforting guy, so the next trip to Bolderfall goes by MUCH faster.

> Through Heathcote's (gentle) pestering and the messenger's shameless begging, Cordelia Ravus is convinced to join the writing crew.

> Yes Heathcote has already sent word of this to Noa Wyndham. She's already booking her own trips to Marsalim for VIP seats and begging to be part of the costume design.

> Meeting up in Marsalim was awkward when King Khalim is backed up by the very enthusiastic efforts of 4 young women. No one is the least bit put off by this surprisingly- probably because they all become very good friends with his daughter.

> Kit and the group of travelling actors are the stars of this show. Kit wants very badly to argue against his casting for the role of 'Ophilia', and this is only rectified by a visit from H'aanit telling them that Kit is as big a part of the story as the other Travelers were. Kit has since then opted not to play as himself and begrudgingly accepted the role for 'Ophilia'.

> He's surprisingly very good at it.

> A few months pass and the Travelers are invited to Marsalim to see the stage play- and a very haggard H'aanit and Primrose, who were involved in the production to some extent. Therion has a bad feeling about this.

> And the first thing they see on stage is Kit. Playing a female cleric. Very effectively.

> Ophilia is trying extremely hard not to be rude and laugh out loud at the absurdity.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part One

Nessian Modern AU

Summary: Nesta Archeron isn't good with change. When her car breaks down in the middle of a storm and her sister sends one of her friends to pick her up, Nesta thinks there could be nothing worse than having to spend the night with a total stranger. Until she suddenly finds herself without an apartment. Despite only a night of knowing Nesta, Cassian is quick to offer her a room in his cabin free of charge, and Nesta, broke and without many social contacts, has no choice but to accept.

A/N: This fic is loosely inspired by @lady-therion 's fic Close Quarters. I couldn't stop thinking about Nesta and Cassian sitting in front of a fire, slowly getting to know each other, so this fic is a whole lot of that :) There's no strict plot structure to this so I'm not sure how long it's gonna be, but expect warm and fuzzy content in the beginning. Enjoy!

Masterlist

***

Cassian is in bed when he gets the text.

Feyre: hey i know it's late but i need you to do a huuuge favor for me

Feyre: i really hope you're not asleep yet

Cassian furrows his brows in concern, immediately thumbing back a text.

Cass: what's wrong?

Feyre takes a long minute to type back; wind howls and rain thrashes against his window while he waits. A long message finally appears.

Feyre: you know the shortcut through the woods off of main st? my sister's car broke down there and there's no 24/7 towing around. im all the way in velaris and won't be able to get there for another two hours, but i dont want her waiting in the woods in the middle of the night like murder bait. she's too proud to ask for help, but if you could go and pick her up that would mean a lot to me, please.

At the last sentence, Cassian immediately knows which sister Feyre is talking about. He glances out his window and curses under his breath. It's storming hell outside, and Nesta Archeron is sitting in a broken car in the middle of the woods somewhere.

He's already grabbed his keys and stuffed his feet into shoes when he realizes he never answered Feyre's text. He types out a short on my way and heads out the front door of the cabin, assaulted by rain and wind before he's even fully outside.

Cassian follows the location Feyre sends him, what should be a five minute drive taking almost fifteen in the storm.

Cassian has interacted with the oldest Archeron sister maybe twice in his three years of knowing Feyre. Once for an initial family meeting, where she gave a terse hello upon introduction to Cassian and his friends, before ignoring everybody for the rest of the dinner, and another time when he accidentally bumped into her as she was leaving Feyre's apartment. He remembers apologizing profusely, only to be given a weird look before she turned and left.

In summary, Cassian knows enough about Nesta to know that this won't be the most fun task he's ever been given. Still, he isn’t about to leave any woman rotting on the side of an empty road at this hour, in this weather.

There’s so much rain that he almost misses the car. His headlights catch on a lump of metal, and he slowly brings the truck to a stop. Throwing the gear in park, Cassian flips his hood over his head and runs out into the rain.

She’s already waiting for him when he reaches the car, standing in the freezing rain in nothing but a drenched sweater and jeans.

His first real words to Nesta Archeron come out surprisingly easy: “What the hell are you doing here?” he yells over the torrent.

“Making sure you could see me,” she shouts back. “You drive like a blind dog!”

Whatever Cassian says back gets lost in the rain, but soon he's ushering Nesta over to his truck and slamming the passenger door shut behind her. He returns to the driver's seat, Nesta audibly shuddering beside him.

He flips the air vents blowing hot air towards her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

Even soaked and freezing, Nesta summons up the energy to glare. “So you could run me over with your truck? No, thanks.”

“That’s an overreaction.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to reply. Silence fills the truck for a couple of minutes as Cassian tries to maneuver them out of the small backroad, carefully turning back for his cabin. There’s no way he can get Nesta back to her place tonight, and he suspects his phone notifications are already full of flash flood warnings.

Finally, he says, “I’m Cassian, by the way.”

Nesta looks at him like he’s stupid. “I know who you are.”

That takes him a little by surprise, but he only murmurs, “Okay, then.” He wonders how much Feyre told her sister about how this was going to go.

“We’re getting my car picked up first thing tomorrow,” Nesta says into the silence, “and Feyre will take me home so you don’t have to bother yourself.”

“It’s not a bother,” he responds a little too quickly. She only gives him another weird look, like she’s judging him to hell and back, and Cassian decides to quit speaking forever.

By the grace of some higher power, the drive back is faster than the drive to. The pounding of rain only gets heavier as Cassian pulls up to the house, until it becomes an unmistakable thunk. Nesta’s eyes shoot to the roof of the car. “What’s that,” she says sharply. Everything she says is sharp; he wonders if she does it consciously or not.

Another thunk hits the car, this time the windshield. Cassian sighs deeply at the ice assaulting the truck from all sides. “Hail,” he says, resigned with this whole night.

He and Nesta end up making another mad dash to the door, trying not to get hit by increasingly larger chunks of ice as they go. Nesta has a backpack that she holds close to her chest instead of using for protection from the hail, as if it’s a baby.

Once safely inside the cabin, she doesn’t let go of her grip on her bag as she looks around his home. “Nice place,” she breathes, eyeing the exposed wooden beams and towering glass windows. An iron-wrought chandelier lights up the main living area they’re in, lightning occasionally casting twisted shadows across the walls.

Cassian almost apologizes for it, before deciding that apologizing for having too nice of a house is one of those things that would earn him another weird look from Nesta. “Bathrooms are that way,” he says instead, pointing down the main hall. “I can get you some dry clothes…”

She’s already nodding sharply and heading for the bathroom, leaving Cassian to stand awkwardly in the entryway, soaked to the bone in the same sweats he was about to go to sleep in just an hour ago.

Upstairs, after changing into blissfully dry clothes, it takes Cassian a good five minutes to decide which of his shirts will work best for Nesta’s slim figure.

When he finally returns downstairs with sweats four times Nesta’s size, she snatches them out of his hands without a word and slams the bathroom door shut on his face. He stands there a moment longer, nods resolutely, and heads for the kitchen to whip up a hot beverage. Cassian has a feeling he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

A couple of minutes later, Nesta appears in the kitchen doorway, looking hesitant and absolutely dwarfed in Cassian’s gray sweats. Somehow, she’s made the pants work, likely by rolling them up a hundred times.

Cassian’s eyes widen for a moment, realizing this is the longest look he’s gotten at Nesta since… well, since he first met her.

He remembers thinking she was stunning at that initial dinner at Feyre’s house all those years ago, but damn, he must have forgotten just how much. Because even messy and rumpled, Cassian can’t stop staring at her.

Nesta breaks the silence first. “Is that hot chocolate?” The hard edge has mostly left her voice, like the warm clothes have soothed her frayed nerves from the car ride.

“Um.” Cassian glances down at the steaming mug in his hands. “Yeah. You want some?” he offers before he can check himself.

Nesta further surprises him by nodding, tucking her sweater paws under her armpits. The position would look vulnerable and reserved on most people, but on her it’s just another fortification to her stiff demeanor. Cassian slides his mug over the marble island to her before starting on another drink for himself.

Feeling an urge to fill the silence while he works, Cassian babbles, “The guest rooms are upstairs. You can have your choice, but the master bedroom is mine, obviously.” He pours melted chocolate into a mug and grabs for cinnamon.

Nesta watches him move with her unnerving hawk eyes and nods slowly, taking careful sips from her mug. “I think I’m going to stay up and study for my midterms,” she finally responds. “You mind if I use your fancy living room?”

Cassian almost smiles at that. “The whole house is fancy,” he says. “But yeah, go for it.”

He’s surprised at how nice this feels. Not that having Feyre’s scary older sister over isn’t weird for him, but… having another presence in the cabin, especially at this late hour— it’s warm where Cassian’s nights are usually cold.

***

It’s past two in the morning when Nesta finally glances up from her laptop screen, eyes bleary and unable to take in another word of theoretical law. She’s rubbing her hands down her face when a sudden clap of thunder booms outside the cabin windows, making her nearly fall off the couch. “Christ,” she swears, unconsciously curling into herself.

“Scared of thunder?”

Nesta internalizes her surprise at the unexpected voice and glances up to see Cassian coming down the stairs, looking as awake as he did when he went to bed over an hour ago. Nesta becomes terribly aware of the state she’s in and has to fight to maintain her composure.

She peeled off Cassian’s oversized sweatpants as soon as he went upstairs, not having been able to take a step without almost tripping, and made up for the coldness of her bare legs by dragging the fur throw off the back of his leather couch and using it as a blanket.

“That's usually for decoration, you know.” Cassian gestures at the thick fur.

Embarrassment claws up her throat, for coming into this strange man’s house and taking his nice things and using them incorrectly. Her first instinct is to apologize, but the only thing she hates more than embarrassment is the word sorry. “I thought you were asleep,” she says instead.

Cassian only shakes his head as he takes a seat on the far end of the couch. “Sleep and I aren't friends tonight. I was thinking about watching a movie, but if you're still studying—”

Nesta quickly shuts her laptop, shaking her head. “I was just about to go upstairs,” she says, packing her things into her backpack. Despite the day she’s had and how heavy her eyelids are, she knows she won’t be able to sleep with the sporadic thunder still booming. She wants to ask Cassian if he has noise-canceling earplugs, but the last thing she wants is to inconvenience him further.

The fur throw slips off her as she stands, revealing her bare legs. She might be wearing the largest, least sexy sweater of all time, so she doesn’t know why she suddenly feels naked in front of Cassian. Risking a glance at the man himself, he only takes his eyes off the TV remote in his hand to say, “You can leave the pants behind if you don’t need them.”

Right. She neatly folded his sweats as soon as she took them off earlier, and now they sit patiently on the coffee table.

“It gets a little drafty at night,” Cassian adds, “but I stocked your room with blankets. It’s the second door on the left; I hope you don’t mind that I chose for you.”

Nesta distantly remembers him saying she could have her pick of bedroom. “I don’t care,” she says honestly. “But— thanks.” She clasps her bag to her chest and shuffles towards the stairs, only stopping at the foot of them when she remembers not to be rude. “Goodnight,” she calls out awkwardly, trying not to race up the stairs as she hears him say goodnight back.

Cassian’s cabin is without a doubt gorgeous, but Nesta still feels a little shock of surprise when she finds her designated room. Decked out with a four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows, it’s nicer than any place Nesta’s ever stayed in before.

A bright flash of lightning fills the room, and Nesta’s shoulders immediately bunch up to her ears— the preparation doesn’t make the ensuing clap of thunder any less heart-thumping. Withholding a weary sigh, she moves to draw the thick curtains over the windows, hoping to add a barrier between herself and the storm. It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Nesta dials Feyre’s number for the third time, growing more irritated by the second. It’s eight a.m., but Feyre is supposed to be picking Nesta up before noon so she can take her car in and return home to her shitty basement apartment.

Finally, the line clicks. “Hello?” a groggy voice drawls over the phone.

“When are you coming?” Nesta demands.

“Uh, what?” Feyre still sounds like she’s waking up. Nesta could hiss.

“You promised you’d be here first thing today, Feyre. I can’t hang around at your friend’s place all day. I want to wear my own clothes and use my own toothbrush.”

“Oh, that,” Feyre says. “Listen, can you just have Cassian take you home?”

“Feyre—”

“I know you hate interacting with strangers, but he’s one of my best friends. It’s a two-hour drive up to the mountains, Nesta,” she speaks as if she’s trying to reason with a kindergartener.

Frustration boils up in Nesta, feelings that she’s in too much disbelief to put words to right now. Her jaw works, and all she ends up spitting is, “You promised.”

“You’re being dramatic. I’m going back to sleep now, call me when you get home safe.” Over the line, Nesta can hear mumbling— probably Feyre’s boyfriend waking up.

Nesta has to hang up before she says something she’ll be made to regret. Her fingers are bone-white around her phone, and she releases a restrained shriek before flinging her phone at the bed.

Still pissed but just a little mollified after the release of energy, Nesta takes a deep breath and heads downstairs to get breakfast.

Cassian is in the kitchen when she enters, sipping from a cup of coffee and watching another one brew in the coffee maker. His eyes are ringed with tired circles, proving he got about as much sleep as Nesta did the night before, but he seems content. She doesn’t miss his quick glance at her still-bare legs before his eyes flick up to her. “Good morning,” he offers with a quiet smile.

Nesta didn’t know Cassian was capable of such quietness— it’s a stark difference from how he is with Feyre and his friends, and maybe the nicest surprise she’s received since this shitty weekend began.

She cuts straight to it. “Feyre’s not coming,” she says, trying to gauge how he’ll react to this new inconvenience. “She told me to let you take me home.”

“I know,” is all Cassian says. His brow furrows when he sees her obvious disappointment. “She called me last night. Didn’t she tell you?”

Nesta’s hands curl under the long sleeves of Cassian’s sweatshirt, but she only shakes her head once. She’s distantly aware that she’s overreacting about a simple car ride, but nothing can take away her discomfort at asking favors from people she barely knows.

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, she says stiffly, “I want to wear my own clothes again.” Is that a good addition to the discussion? She genuinely can’t remember the last time she interacted with a man for non-work related purposes.

Cassian’s eyes light up and he sets down his coffee. “That reminds me, I put your clothes through the laundry this morning. They might still be warm from the dryer.”

Nesta wants to sag in relief at the first good news she’s gotten all morning. She follows Cassian’s directions to the laundry room and almost hugs her neatly folded clothes. While she changes into her clothes from the night before, she makes a list of today’s activities in her head:

1) Eat breakfast. Keep it quick and keep interactions with Cassian to a minimum, but don’t seem ungrateful.

2) Drive to her ancient rustbucket of a car. Make sure it’s okay after the hail and call the towing company.

3) Let Cassian drop her home.

4) Return to her room and not leave for a week.

Nesta sighs as her blue sweater settles around her frame. Only four tasks; it’s achievable enough.

Her first task is relatively easy. She wishes Cassian wouldn’t talk so much, because sometimes she doesn’t know what to say in return, but she also finds that she likes what she has to say. His opinion on the horror movie he watched last night doesn’t make her want to crawl out of the nearest window.

Cassian keeps breakfast short and gets them in the car by nine. It’s only after they’ve dialed a tow truck and Cassian kindly withholds judgment at Nesta’s faded blue lump of metal she calls a car that she gets the call.

It’s from her tenant, or rather, the nice elderly lady who lets Nesta live in her basement-turned-apartment.

“Lorene?” Nesta answers, confused.

“Oh, hun,” the woman answers, and from the sympathy in her voice, Nesta tenses up. “I headed downstairs this morning to check for mold and the rain...the whole basement’s flooded. There must have been a leak or something wrong with the entrance door, but I tried to grab as many of your things before I left.”

Nesta closes her eyes. Presses a forceful hand to her chest and tries to take calming breaths. “O-okay,” she says. “What does that mean, what do I do next?”

Cassian gives her a concerned look from where he leans against his truck. She ignores him.

“I’m getting the basement cleaned out and fixed as soon as I can, but the water damage looks pretty bad. The floors are probably gonna have to be replaced, and I don't know if insurance will cover this.”

She thinks of all her books and valuables in that apartment, taken out by the storm last night.

“You're going to have to find a new place to stay, hun. Most likely for a while.”

Nesta is on the verge of full-out panicking, but the last thing she needs is to have a breakdown in front of Feyre’s best friend. She clenches her fist so hard it hurts, and the bite of her nails takes away the sharp edge of her panic.

She breathes deep, but finally says, “I can do that.” She doesn't know if she can.

After a few more apologies from Lorene, Nesta finally hangs up, only to turn and brace her hands against the roof of her car.

“Everything alright?” Cassian asks slowly.

She needs a place to stay. Her mind works rapidly, going through the short, short list of people she might be able to ask for a bed to sleep on. Coming up empty, she moves on to the next option: motels.

Does she even have the money—?

“Nesta?” Cassian repeats. “What's going on?”

“I’m fine,” she says out loud, still not facing him. “I just need to break the bank a little and find a new place to stay, but it’ll be fine.”

“Find a new place to stay? What do you mean?” A light hand touches her elbow, and she whirls around in alarm. Cassian holds his hands up in placation. “Sorry, sorry,” he says.

Red-hot embarrassment creeps up Nesta’s cheeks. She’s losing it in front of this completely nice stranger—

She reins herself in, tries to remember things like common sense and social etiquette. “It’s okay,” she breathes out. “It’s really nothing. My apartment got flooded during the storm and I need to find a place to stay, and I’m upset, but I’ll get over it.” She nods resolutely, like the grown adult she is. Like she can afford to fix her car and pay for lodging at the same time.

Cassian considers her silently for a long moment, and Nesta thinks he must still be freaked out by her near-breakdown, when he finally says, “Well, you can always stay at my place.”

Her eyes might pop out of her head. “What? No. No.”

“Why not?” He turns hesitant. “Unless you have somewhere else to stay?”

Nesta’s silence is answer enough. She sees his gaze flip from questioning to determined and rushes to change his mind. “I won’t do that to you— I hate asking for favors and I hate making people go out of their way for me even more.” She sounds so forceful it comes off as harsh, which is all the better for convincing Cassian not to make her stay at his cabin.

“I have a feeling you hate a lot of things, Nesta.” He doesn’t back down. “You’re Feyre’s sister; the least I can offer you is free lodging.” After a moment, he adds, “Please.”

Nesta wants to laugh; he’s pleading with her to let her invade his home life. All because she’s Feyre’s sister. The reasoning leaves a bitter taste in her throat, but she doesn’t have the energy to argue with it. Not as the tow truck finally appears at the end of the road, driving up towards them. Cassian only looks at her. Decide now, he says silently.

Nesta exhales deeply through her nose. “Fine,” she grits. So much for getting through the day with her sanity unscathed.

***

Part Two

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla

[crystalelemental]

IT

IS

DONE

God that took two hours.  Why did they design it like this?  It’s such a pain and wouldn’t be worth it if I hadn’t finished things up early today.  I might never have picked it up again.

Which is a shame, because the endgame area is really interesting.  I love how they tied together everyone’s story.  I love how they managed to surprise me with a random, borderline pointless NPC becoming the most significant mover of the plot.  It’s really good!  But oh my god some of the gameplay decisions here.

One you get through the Gate of Finis, you can’t save.  At all.  Which...if you’re going to lock people into an area that has no extra encounters, is probably wise?  If I got locked into there the first time I went...I’d actually be fine because I know to always make a separate save before major decisions, so I could’ve loaded up the other, but some people would’ve been trapped in an unwinnable scenario because they couldn’t level up their B-team.  Which is a fair consideration and concern but like...let people leave the Gate, then?  Just let them go back out?  There really isn’t a problem with doing that.  If locking them in means creating hardlock fail states and you can’t save, then don’t make it two hours long.  If you knew this shit was a problem then why’d you do it?

Anyway, the fight.  I got an ask about wanting to see how I’d react to this final boss and approach the clear, so here you go:

The eight boss gauntlet was piss easy.  Sorcerer Ophelia, Runeblade Tressa, Starseer Primrose, Apothecary Olberic.  Primrose gives double BP per turn to Ophelia, Tressa sets up Transfer Run, Ophelia just takes a shot to weaken defenses, Olberic Olberic’s.  He didn’t do much, but could remove a status as needed.  Turn two, Tressa sets up the Rune element of choice, Ophelia sets up Aelfric’s Auspices, Primrose does whatever.  It’s critical not to break them at this point.  That’s for as early in phase 3 as possible, so Ophelia can use her Elemental Break, which gets followed up with the Rune that deals around 45k, and double strikes from Aelfric’s for 90k in one action.  Then on turn four, while the boss is still broken, Tressa transfers her 2BP to Ophelia, who max invest fires a sorcerer spell, 23k each hit  for 6 hits, 138k.  Over 200k in two rounds while the opponent is broken.  Yes, I learned this from the wolf and the Maneater quest bosses that are a pain, and it’s just as stupidly effective here.  And god help them if they were weak to Wind.  Tressa with Tradewind Spear could deal 56k in one move.  We could absolutely annihilate a bitch if desired.  And I did.  I did desire.  So yeah, the eight bosses were super easy, nothing even came close to threatening, it’s just tedious and I should be allowed to leave and save at this point.

Phase 1: Omniscient Eye!  This thing is a bitch that summons adds, first one enemy that’s only weak to light, then two enemies with different weaknesses, then all three with elemental weaknesses but they change weaknesses, and if they’re still alive by the end of a countdown the character in your party with the number over them dies, then a final time where the eye immediately kills them and gains extra actions.  Overall I’d say this fight isn’t especially dangerous until the last stretch, where it can set up elemental augmentation and Electrocute can deal numbers.  But only Cyrus had such baby bitch HP that he went down, so whatever.

This team was as follows:

Warmaster H’aanit, with all the Battle-tested weapons except Dagger (Primrose for dodge) and Staff (Ophelia for kill)

Cleric Cyrus for elemental coverage as needed, healing as needed, and most importantly, Aelfric’s Auspices for quad-casting.  Budget Ophelia.

Warrior Therion, who...okay look he probably should’ve gone with a more rounded class.  I thought about having him deal damage, but really all he ever did was use actions to break guard, or to debuff defense so H’aanit hit for ten billion damage.

Dancer Alfyn.  This actually had good offensive coverage, but mostly he was here to clear status, serve as backup healing, and maybe speed up someone’s action as needed.

The play was stupid, but effective: Winnehild’s Battle Cry spam.  H’aanit could hit for around 14k per strike, six strikes per action, when the foe was broken.  84k in one move is pretty solid.  The souls were sometimes a pain and needed two of these, but when you’re throwing out Energizing Pomegranates and Inspirating Plums left and right, it definitely gets the job done.  Especially if Alfyn can break a spirit, and Therion can debuff the defense of another.  That was an easy, nigh-guaranteed way to get a one-shot from H’aanit.  And again, nothing it does is especially threatening.  The fact this move hits all foes is also huge, because the threat of most of this fight is the adds getting to use each skill twice if you let them stay, and the eye setting up shit like Poison being stronger.  But if you can blitz the adds fast enough, it really can’t do anything until Elemental Augmentation/Electrocute, and at that point, it’s in Battle Cry range.  Nothing too brutal there.

Phase 2: Galdera!  It’s four parts: the central body of Galdera, scythe arm, Abyssal Maw, and Lyblac.  Lyblac is a bitch, she buffs, and one of those buffs is elemental augmentation for the Maw, who can cast triple-hit magic.  Also the blade can inflict status, but that’s way less devastating than Olberic going from like 6k HP at max to less than 1k after one cast from the Maw.  And Starseer’s “block foe from buffing” skill does not, as I understand it, remove the buff already applied, so we just had to deal with it.  Fantastic.  The Maw is only weak to physical weapons, the scythe only weak to magic, and Lyblac is weak to a mix.  None of their weaknesses overlap, because god forbid the game make me happy.  Also Galdera can remove all of your active buffs!  So it can just delete the Runes, it can delete Aelfric’s Auspices, it can delete the buffs from Starseer, it’s a great time.  I’m definitely not mad.

The intended structure of this fight is, to my understanding, to take out the Maw or the Scythe first to minimize damage taken, then hopefully take out of the other.  With them down, Lyblac is the least threatening offensive option, and I believe Galdera starts to lose its shielding when down to only one part left.  So you want to focus on getting Galdera nearly broken, but not entirely so, which makes it easier to break when you take out the third part and it immediately shifts into “I’m going to drop your entire party to 1HP and consume all your BP to add to my shield so I’m invincible.”

Unfortunately, Ophelia’s too big, and accidentally killed them all at once.  Oops?  So sure enough, Galdera started charging that move again, and all hope seemed lost.  I had only Olberic left that turn, and only Tressa afterward.  And had to break 9 shields.  There was no way to do it, right?

WRONG.

For too long, Olberic has stood in the shadows of the rest of the team.  “Oh, he’s just there to heal and prevent status, he doesn’t do much.”  No longer!  Now is the time for action, and action he shall bring, with Thousand Spears!  It turns out, Galdera is weak to Lance, and Olberic can throw out 5-10 attacks.  Sure, they’re not super accurate, and this has never gone well, but Tressa would have two BP next turn.  We needed six hits.  Six hits, and we’d be in the clear.

And friends?  He got those six hits.  Eight shots with two misses, but he got those six hits.  And with that, Tressa exploded Galdera.  It also turns out stopping this charge means you get max BP in exchange, so Aelfric’s Auspices went up, Primrose applied the Dancer special so Tressa could give everyone runes.  And with the setup phase complete, two turns later, Galdera got its ass blasted open by Ophelia and Tressa magic offense, as is just and proper.  Like all of the others, dead to Ophelia’s Six-Cast Explode Your Face Technique.

And with that, we did it.  We have beaten everything in Octopath Traveler.  We get a scene of Kit coming back, his mom and dad’s ghost telling him what a good job he did getting duped but not dying, and then there’s some scene about how everyone’s stories connect and it’s supposed to be all uplifting but mostly it’s like...is that it?  And the final item I get just...stops all random encounters?  That’s great, I already beat everything else, what do I need this for?

@threedotmark, don’t feel bad not beating this.  It’s really, super not worth it.

[beantothemax]

“...I’m not going to kill you.”

Gareth looked up, shock and surprise on his paling face. “You- what...?”

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m not like Darius. I don’t shed blood just for the sake of it. In fact...”

Therion knelt in front of Gareth, taking out a small vial. “Here. It’s a healing elixir. It was made by the best apothecary I know.”

That apothecary- and the rest of the group by extent- had gone a little ways ahead to scout for Darius and his minions after Gareth had collapsed.

Gareth took it with a trembling hand, struggling to uncork it.

“Let me help,” Therion said, taking it again and piercing the stopper with his dagger. He twisted the cork out, and handed it back to Gareth, who eyed it warily. Therion couldn’t say he blamed the man.

“Would it be a reassurance if I took a little bit of it first?”

The question must have come as a surprise to Gareth, because he looked at Therion with confused eyes. Despite his doubts, despite his judgement, Gareth looked at the vial and downed it. He must have assumed that Therion’s willingness to take some meant that it was most likely safe to drink.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The tightness around Gareth’s eyes ebbed away, the colour slowly returned to his skin, and the gaping wound in his stomach didn’t seem so deep.

Gareth slowly staggered to his feet, and Therion caught him before he could keel over. “Careful,” he warned. “Healing elixir or not, you’re still recovering. Can’t have you getting hurt again so soon.”

And miracle of all miracles, Gareth cracked a small smile, and Therion had a feeling that it would turn out alright.

And his gut instinct was usually right.

twisting a cork out with a knife is such a therion thing to do you’re right

YEAAAHHH WOOOO CHEERING VERY LOUDLY GIVE THIS MAN AN ACTUAL FRIEND!!!!! WHO WILL TREAT HIM LIKE A PERSON!!!!!!