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biolumien · 4 months

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but thankfully, the wind...

notes: do not ask me how much research i did for this. the answer is that while wikipedia is a helpful source, i wonder if i am missing out on the real info, trenches deep in a 39 page article about fertility and marriage in the heian period...

also this will be multichapter. peace and love on planet earth!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader reader throws hands. this is an arranged marriage fic word count: 1364

there was never any room for love in your life. you knew that much. your eventual arranged marriage—because it was never a choice, really, it was an inevitability—would always be for political reasons.

your family wasn’t a particularly powerful one—you were the daughter of a dying clan with no male heir, so your father was desperate to find you a good match. to sell you off to the most desperate buyer, you’d say archly, glaring at him. at night, while you listened to the chirping of summer cicadas turn to fall crickets and then to the dull silence of winter, you wished that your father’s search for an appropriate marriage candidate would fail, that the matchmaker would find no one.

eventually, however, your family would receive a marriage offer from the hoshina clan.

the hoshina clan was a name that held great prestige—its sons were known for their swordsmanship, for a lineage of honorable and noble samurai. but recently, the name seemed to take on a more negative light—rumors of the eldest son, soichiro hoshina, running off to become a lawless ronin and forcing the second son, soshiro hoshina, to take on the mantle of heir.

you’d watched as your father celebrated his good luck—his good luck at finding you a partner. the blight on the hoshina name aside, the prestige of a family of well-known and reputable samurai could be enough to pull your family out of its dying state.

but your life, as far as you were concerned, was basically over.

you wanted nothing to do with the prestige of anything. what did it matter, that the hoshina clan was of great renown? of course, you knew that you’d never marry for love—but even a caged bird dreams of the opportunity of getting to fly on its own, surely. you dreamed of a possibility of marrying for love—that you’d meet some nice man that would whisk you away to the countryside, where you could live out the rest of your life.

but you’d be forced to abandon that dream now.

and so, while your family and the hoshina clan arranged meetings through the matchmaker, you mourned the end of your life.

but for better or for worse, soshiro hoshina… was an interesting man.

he was very quiet, or that’s what you thought for the most part, at least. he spoke softly, sharply towards his father, but would smile cautiously towards you—but in a way where you could tell it was a clear mask, all a part of the facade of the good son, the soon-to-be-wed husband following tradition.

his hair was just long enough to be tied back into a small bun, and the kimono he wore was a stark black with the faintest hint of violet–the kind of dye saved only for royalty, the high nobility. his hakama was that same shade of violet, a clear sign of wealth, in any case.

when he deigned to look at you, you found his eyes were a bright scarlet.

the first two meetings of your omiai were nothing much of note. soshiro was simply calm, watching you. even when you were given time alone with him, he never made any attempt to touch you, nor to speak. the first time he’d done it, you’d tried to fill the air with words, only for him to just watch you. your face flushed from embarrassment and something like anger, and you’d lifted up your sleeve to hide the wave of emotions crossing your face.

you’d never asked to be married to this man. so why wouldn’t he speak to you? why did he have to look at you like he pitied you and was upset at this whole fraught affair?

the third meeting was always the one of most importance. it was an implicit agreement to marriage—and despite knowing there was no way your father would have let you say no to the third meeting, you faced it with a sort of irrational upset. it was like standing in front of a precipice that you couldn’t back away from—acknowledging the cliff but still being forced down it.

this time, soshiro stood in front of you, his father absent. two katanas were sheathed at his side, their handles interwoven with fine black and golden cord.

“my father suggested that the two of us take our time to be alone today,” soshiro says, looking at your father first, before turning to you. “shall we, then?”

“as if i could say no,” you say, your voice gentle and lilting. you remember your lessons—when you got married, you would be forced to hide your horns, so to speak—your shame and your anger, jealousy and desperation. the feelings that were utterly unbecoming for you—or so your father and mother would say.

you guide soshiro through the halls of your home, guiding him towards the room your father had set aside for the omiai—it was beautiful, ornate, delicately furnished, of course, with a balcony leading out to a beautiful garden.

as you folded your legs to sit down, soshiro remained standing.

“i suppose it might shock you,” soshiro says. soshiro’s voice was soft. gentle. “the marriage offer, and the suddenness of it.”

his eyes flit to the beautiful garden outside. you know the truth of it—it’s beautiful, but it’s a gilded thing, hiding the rot and abandonment underneath. your family’s legacy in a nutshell, you think bitterly. a collection of power plays and alliances in a desperate attempt to curry favor, to maintain the idea that there was still something good here. as if any of this was worth saving.

“it doesn’t shock me at all,” you say, trying to keep the bitterness from rising in your voice. “we all have roles we must play. and mine was always destined to be this.”

“i never wanted to be married,” soshiro says. “the role of a faithful husband and proper heir was always more emphasized for my brother.”

you laugh archly, delicately, raising yourself to your feet.

from within a pocket in your kimono’s sleeve, you unsheath a beautiful and ornate knife. the gift had been from the hoshina clan—when your father had opened the gift, he’d sounded extremely honored to have received it— something about the knife representing the hoshina clan’s hopes that you would bear for them a son that might become a sword prodigy as well.

as you raise the knife to soshiro’s throat, you simply smile. you think it might be an expression unbecoming of a woman of your station—the soon-to-be bride of a samurai. soshiro’s eyes simply watch yours. he doesn’t even shake, his hands not even moving to the katana sheathed at his side. somehow, that irritates you. does he think so little of you that he wouldn’t even raise his sword against you?

“i truly do apologize,” you murmur, venom in your voice. “it must be such an inconvenience for you, huh? to be married to the daughter of a dying clan, as the second, disgraced and unwanted son.” you press the knife further—not enough to draw blood, but the threat of it, you hoped, conveyed enough.

“i didn’t have a say in any of this, though,” you say. “when your family’s offer came, all i was told was how honored i should be that the hoshina clan picked me. that my family could’ve picked any other clan, a worse and older samurai that would’ve wanted me for different reasons.”

soshiro’s gaze fixates on the dagger pointed at his neck, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

you drop the dagger on the ground.

the blade slices into the tatami mats, embedding itself there.

“but of course. i will sympathize with you, for solidarity’s sake. we’re both doing things we’d rather not be doing.”

you walk past him, moving for the door.

you raise your hand, touching the corner of the folding screen. you try not to think about how it would feel to punch a hole through it.

“i’ll see you for the betrothal ceremony,” you say. you turn to him, and you think you must be the picture-perfect appearance of a vengeful, resentful spirit. “but don’t you dare ever sympathize with me again.”

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader

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zaahvi · 9 days

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a little breakdown of the new mural:

the context: this is part of a quest named "regrets of the dread wolf" in which rook uses a wolf statuette to "restore" this damaged mural in the lighthouse. it's referred to as a "regret" and seems to echo a memory linked to the events shown in the mural

"[Solas'] history, along with the history of the other elven gods, is baked into the Lighthouse, and you learn more and more about the threat you face as you unlock Solas' murals with various wolf statues. You even get to see some of his memories firsthand." [source with timestamp]

first, the imagery:

these "star" symbols are the same as on the "death of a titan" mural from trespasser, and even have similar halos. there are three visible in the circle here, which itself is cracked and there's a beam of light coming from above, sort of mirroring the titan mural:

it's interesting that the beam of light is coming from above, and is hitting the circle at the bottom, illuminating the outline; it seems like the light itself is what "cracked" the circle? there's also light shining from above, and elgar'nan is looking up at it, so... maybe it's the sun? the halos around the hands are also reminiscent of the left figure on the titan mural.

for triangle symbolism enjoyers... there are triangles around the light beam a little further up 👀

this is also our first look at mythal <3 she had dark hair and her headpiece is silver like flemeth's, a nice contrast to the golden crown elgar'nan has! they're like the sun and moon...

elgar'nan appears to have silver hair here, much lighter than the dark greyish he seems to have in-game. i'm thinking that either the blight darkened it, solas painted it differently, OR that the lighting that we've seen him in so far just hasn't shown off the colour properly. on his robes there is a sun pattern on his shoulder :) the bottom of the robes seem greenish and has patterns similar to the lyrium veins(?) on the titan mural above, and now that i look at them side by side... he kinda looks like the figure on the left, doesn't he?

solas with hair real!!! and he has his signature wolf pelt :) he's standing among some kneeling elves, and, notably, none of them have vallaslin.

these leafless trees - usually used as symbols of mythal - are almost framing the piece. the blue coming from the cracked circle is also interesting: solas rarely uses blue apart from his murals inside skyhold, so maybe it means something? it could be lyrium, or the titans' power?

the story:

remembering the context: this is one of solas' old memories, and a "regret" of his. looking at the imagery and pairing it with the dialogue seen, the events portrayed become clear:

Elgar'nan: They need strength. Mythal: And wisdom. Elgar'nan: They need gods who can protect them. Solas: We are not gods. You will learn that.

this is the evanuris first declaring themselves gods, seemingly after whatever war the elves fought; possibly with the titans, judging by the hints in these murals.

elgar'nan and mythal came first, which lines up with the dalish legends. i'm very curious if they were actually a couple or if they were just paired together in legends because they were the first gods (like how falon'din and dirthamen were paired as twin brothers in dalish tales but had no familial connection in elvhen lore). and from what they say... using "they" to refer to the elves rather than "you", implies this was a private conversation, which leads me to believe that they did originally intend to protect the elves. for instance, if they'd said "you need gods who can protect you", that's a whole other story which could be clearly interpreted as installing themselves as rulers in order to gain power and oppress the people. but this? the elves need strength, and wisdom, and protection? it's our first real clue that the evanuris were not always tyrannical, and that is just so interesting! i am very excited to see the story of how they became corrupted 👀

solas has an interesting line here also. using "we" instead of "you"... there's a popular theory that solas was a spirit of wisdom who was asked by mythal to join her, as implied by these lines from cole:

"He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face." "Bare-faced but free, frolicking fighting, fierce. He wants to give wisdom, not orders."

so maybe solas was a general alongside the evanuris, and was clearly opposed to becoming a "god" like the rest of them. i find it interesting he doesn't have vallaslin on the mural here. the cole lines implied he had mythal's vallaslin, and i would've assumed he "burned it off" when he started his rebellion. the only thing i can think of is that the vallaslin may have originally acted as a spirit binding (like binding a spirit to a body) but if it could be removed then... idk.

finally, circling back that this is referred to as a "regret"... i suppose this is his regret of not having stopped them before everything that followed. and with regret mentioned as being one of the key themes of the game... aghh this is gonna be so good

#your regularly scheduled evanuris posting #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers #evanuris #elgar'nan #mythal #solas #“little breakdown” she said and proceeded to write many paragraphs.....#anyway. i'm tired so if i missed anything let me know. just needed to get this out of my system 😭

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actual-lea · 10 months

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So who wants to hear about the stupid stupid way I'm playing Baldur's Gate 3?

I made it to Act 3 on my first (original character) playthrough like a week before Patch 5 came out, and after finding it absolutely unplayable (on the PS5) decided it was time to go ahead and start an origin character run for the funsies while waiting on the new patch to fix the Lag Hell. Naturally, I picked Gale. Since this was mostly just for fun/to hold me over until I could continue my other file, I decided it would be a nice time to see what happens if you just refuse to consume any magic items. Of course, if you are not playing as Gale and ignore his Orb Problem, he will apparently eventually leave your party, but what if you ARE Gale? I couldn't find an answer with a minimal amount of Googling SO

There are three stages to his Arcane Hunger, each of which give you increasingly debilitating debuffs: Arcane Hunger, Greater Arcane Hunger, and Severe Arcane Hunger. It seems the triggers for progressing to the next stage are the same as the triggers where he would start needing an item in my other file (i.e. that bridge next to the Blighted Village, entering the temple at the Goblin Camp, the Hag's Lair, etc.) which obviously makes sense. I figure with the amount of contingencies in this game for incredibly specific situations, surely there is some kind of unique dialog or fun cutscene that will play if I ignore the Arcane Hunger long enough and just play through the debuffs.

I played Act 1 completely normally, doing a lil quicksave every time I was about to Long Rest just in case the game gave me a cutscene of the big explosion upon waking up (I thought maybe it would be time-based, similar to the game over you get if Gale dies and you leave him for 3 days (? I think?) which does not seem to be the case). I made it through basically everything without anything odd happening besides the aforementioned debuffs. The Severe Arcane Hunger is where things get really sloggy, because Gale can only move at half speed.

I have been slowly trudging EVERYWHERE since the Goblin Camp.

I eventually started going out of my way to make sure I hit all the Arcane Hunger triggers I know about, to see what would happen, and the answer is nothing, aside from Gale occasionally reminding me that he's wracked with terrible pain.

So, surely, the game will certainly not let me into the Mountain Pass without SOMETHING happening, right?

WELL

That's surprising, but whatever, at least now I have the chance to see what happens if you go meet Elminster without having consumed any magic items,

Except

He wasn't there.

I went to the area in the Mountain Pass where the cutscene is supposed to start, and it just. Didn't happen. Nothing happened. I could walk right up to the entrance to the next area.

But SURELY, the game won't let me into the gotdamn Shadow-Cursed Lands without saying SOMETHING about the fact that the orb has been starving for several weeks at this point, right? The game isn't going to let me into Act Freaking 2 without at the very least giving me a game over to tell me I'm not allowed to do this and make me reload and actually feed this poor starving wizard, right?

RIGHT?

WELL

Here we are. I'm at the Last Light Inn, I'm at the Taco Bell, I'm at the combination Last Light Inn Taco Bell with a bag full of delicious Cheesy Gordita Magic Boots that I refuse to eat.

SO LIKE. How far does this go??? Am I gonna be able to infiltrate Moonrise Towers without ever speaking to Elminster? Am I gonna trudge all the way to Ketheric at half freaking speed and fight him with Disadvantage on everything?? Am I gonna make it all the way to goddang Baldur's Gate with a Netherese orb that is long overdue to explode???

Like I said, I did not find an answer on what happens if you do this on a Gale Origin playthrough, and at this point, I don't even want to, I just want to see how far I can take this.

I already know I'll have to do another normal Gale playthrough where I actually FEED HIM after this, because I'm sure I've missed out on a ton of dialogue and whatnot, especially from Tara who only ever has this to say when I speak with her in camp:

I am genuinely beginning to wonder if there is actually nothing in place to stop me from doing this. I am wondering what the dialogue options will look like when I get to the "Heart of the Absolute" where Gale would ordinarily want to blow himself up, if Elminster had ever shown up to tell him to do so. Maybe the devs just didn't bother, and figured that no one would be stupid and stubborn enough to play through the whole dang thing while so severely debuffed.

Joke's on them, Disadvantage means NOTHING to Magic Missile Machine Gale Dekarios.

#baldur's gate 3 #poor gale #this man is having the worst time of his life #long post #gale dekarios #no gale dinner

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere nerd #yandere bully #yandere harem

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mythalism · 29 days

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keeping track of all of these damn dragons like its my full time job. lets go

several of the dragons horns clearly correspond to the evanuris symbols/statues we’ve seen in several murals, trailers and in the gameplay reveal, while others are total wildcards.

in the gameplay trailer, we see this dragon the most frequently. this dragon’s horns don’t match any of the evanuris symbols, but it appears when morrigan is speaking and doesn’t seem aggressive to the characters in the moments we see, only ever breathing fire in the open air, so i would assume this is mythal.

its the same dragon from the cover art for the game:

it’s also somewhat similar to flemythal’s dragon form in da2, though not exactly, and is similar to her iconique hair horns. the dragon in the trailer’s horns are less curved at the ends, and are a bit wider.

either this isn’t Mythal, it is Mythal and they just made some subtle stylistic changes and didn’t anticipate anyone as insane as me analyzing the horns, it’s someone completely different, or mythal’s dragon form has changed now that morrigan holds her soul. i cant really imagine it being anyone but mythal, as mythal's dragon form has been on every dragon age game cover in some form.

it’s worth noting that none of these dragons look anything like morrigans dragon form from inquisition, which has horns that curve downwards, though i think it's plausible that her form could change with the full soul of mythal:

then we have this dragon, which is thankfully straightforward:

this is elgarnan, with his horns being a perfect match of Elgar’nans symbol

next we have this creature which we see twice and doesn’t even have horns. a week ago i would have said this is ghilan'ain, because of the weird tentacles, the pustules on it's body that we saw all over the trailer, and the fact that it seems like a mash-up of creatures, almost like a griffon and a dragon, or some other lupine/feline/canine form and a dragon. however, now i'm not so sure, and ill explain why later on.

the second time, it's side by side with a new dragon whose horns match both andruil's symbol in the murals and on the statues, and in this image of andruil and ghilan'nain:

these horns are of course also similar to the very first dragon, but i dont think they're wide enough, and these go in an then out, while the others go out and then up. and the similarity makes sense in the context of andruil being mythal's daughter.

another reason i think this is andruil is because of the story of andruil wearing "armor made of the void", and the clear red lyrium and corruption literally oozing out of this dragon:

also worth noting is in the scene above on the right, we see a spear/pole fly out of the red dragon towards the screen.

we see this pole/spear earlier in the trailer, connected to ghilan'ain's elven (barely) body, along with what looks to literally be another body impaled by a spear?

if ghilly melded the corrupted body of her lover to her own to preserve it and then eventually brings her back as a blighted dragon so they can devour the world together, that will be the toxic yuri of all time, but that's a topic for another post. back to the dragons.

because now we've got another one to figure out.

as i said earlier, i would have originally clocked those red and blue creatures side by side as andruil and ghilan'nain, transforming from their freaky melded elven form and into dragon/archdemon form.

but then yesterday happened, and they dropped this bomb:

HER ARCHDEMON?

and then we see the "archdemon" in question:

which, frustratingly, we do not see AT ALL in the release date trailer, but you know where we did see it?

the original reveal trailer. hm.

the way the combat gameplay is edited would lead us to believe that this is ghilan'nain's archdemon, as the text says, but im not fully convinced this dragon is 1. an archdemon and 2. isn't on our side.

the dragon doesn't attack us in the gameplay, it literally just roars (at something else, not us, maybe ghil's creepy porcelain mask face off in the distance?) and then flies away. we also don't see it attack us in the reveal trailer, just this big, cinematic roar.

we also don't see any clear signs of blight or corruption on this dragon. it can be hard to tell as we've only seen one (confirmed) before and it was urthemiel back in those lovely 2009 origins graphics, but even still, he looks pretty crusty, and in line visually with what we see of darkspawn and blighted creatures such as black/red colors, generally gross looking, etc. same for this artwork of dumat:

additionally, everyone thought that corypheus's red lyrium dragon was an archdemon (instead of just a high dragon) because of how fucked up it looked.

i dont doubt that ghilly has an archdemon, but im not convinced that the dragon we see in the combat gameplay is it. it doesn't look blighted or corrupted in the way we have seen from actual archdemons and creatures mistaken for archdemons.

its possible that the gross-looking blue dragon hybrid creature we talked about earlier is ghilly's archdemon, and it's wreaking havoc on some other part of weisshaupt that we dont see in the footage, and they are trying to bamboozle us by showing us that other dragon.

these horns, of course, look a lot like morrigan's dragon horns from inquisition, which curl downwards in the same way.

but of course, the colors and other facial features dont really match.

you could also make the argument that these downturned horns match ghilly's downturned horn headpiece that we have seen a million times at this point, and maybe it really is that straightforward and that is "her archdemon". but if thats the case then what the hell is this freaky blue creature with similar tentacles and gross pustules (that are all over weisshaupt as she attacks it, so definitely associated with her) all over its body?

maybe both are affiliated with ghilan'nain? one is her little pet archdemon while the other is her own dragon form?

at this point im just throwing things at the wall to see what sticks. i have no clue who this damn dragon is.

what we do know:

we have seen 5 distinct dragon-like creatures in this game so far.

some of them are archdemons, some of them are evanuris shapeshifting into dragons, some of them are ???????? i'm at a loss, at this point. bioware, you win. "dragon age" indeed.

#da:v #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #da: the veilguard #dragon age spoilers #dragon age meta #dragon age veilguard #dragon age veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #meta

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ozzgin · 1 year

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I was pondering on what horrors to write for Halloween and when I remembered how many times I’d hoped for Valak content…I ran and whipped out my Grimoire and started typing in delirious inspiration.

Yandere! Valak x Reader

Featuring the Infernal President and a blissfully unaware reader backpacking through Romania. Warning: NSFW, blasphemy, non-consent

[Horror Masterlist]

“Mommy told me something

A little kid should know

It’s all about the Devil

And I’ve learned to hate him so

She said he causes trouble

When you let him in the room

He will never ever leave you

If your heart is filled with gloom”

"Now, you can't really say you've visited Romania until you see at least one monastery! Most Romanians are very religious, so churches and monasteries are popular attractions for tourists and locals alike." The tour guide is awfully enthusiastic for a cloudy Sunday morning. You nod politely and follow the group, although you can already feel yourself become distracted.

You're mostly interested in the old castles and bucolic hiking trails that Transylvania has to offer. Religious places...not so much. Alas, it's part of the experience. You check the flyer containing today's travel plans and google the location mentioned by the guide. Cârța Monastery. Seems to have some ruins included, and you'll be right on time for the Sunday chorus service, huh. Maybe that's why they picked today for a visit.

You hurry along the cobblestone path until the first traces of a building come into view. Somehow you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You scan over the visible windows, wondering if someone is watching from above. Nothing. Once you lower your gaze again, you notice the tour guide vigorously waving his arm and encouraging you to enter the church with everyone else. You were at the very front of the group, so how long did you stare at walls? You flash an apologetic smile and rush inside. The wooden door closes with a grating creak and you fumble to the first available seat. There's a few coughs and shuffles and eventually the Liturgy begins. Your eyes wander until they find a clear window, so you entertain yourself with the sights outside. It's not like you understand the words of whatever is currently happening, and you're not religious to begin with.

"How long is this going to take?" you groan internally and switch your focus to your hands, intertwined and resting in your lap. The monotonous chants cause your eyelids to feel heavy and they gradually lower themselves until all you see is black. It's okay, you're not sleeping. It's just a short nap, until...huh...the voices of the singing men diffuse as if distorted by distance and now everything is quiet.

"Took you long enough."

You jolt awake. You turn your head to check if whoever is sitting next to you has just spoken, but the room is suddenly empty. You jump from your seat and the thud of your feet hitting the stone floor creates a cavernous echo that sends a shiver down your spine. Ah, could it be that you're dreaming? The candles of the chandelier flicker, as if startled by a breeze, and abruptly go out.

"I don't like waiting. Especially for mere humans like you."

The same voice as before reverberates through the chamber. It's deep and jarring, sounding almost unnatural. You don't like it. You tilt your head, afraid to find the source of speech but too curious nonetheless. It's a person dressed like a nun. For a brief second you relax your shoulders, assuming it's one of the people living here. But after one step ahead the figure becomes vaguely illuminated, and you can discern the features bearing on this creature's face. Blood drains from your face and you can feel the bile pooling at the back of your throat. A blasphemous deformity, oozing with blight and evil. From within the hollow, dark sockets, two yellow orbs glisten with raw malice. You realize you've held your breath until now as your lungs contract in a pitiful attempt to pump more oxygen. The movement brings back your senses and your flight instincts kick in. You immediately sprint for the door and use your elbow to slam it open, nearly collapsing to the ground. Your eyes squint under the flash of bright light.

As you pant for air you notice you're back outside. There's people taking photos and talking cheerfully, and inside the church your group seems to have gathered before the iconostasis, listening attentively to a hearty discourse from your guide. The liturgy ended. What on Earth did you just witness? Before you can ponder the event, you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's an old lady, short and comically hunched. She's dressed all in black, with a head covering that hides most of her face, though you can still see the deep wrinkles that cross her features.

"Oh? Sorry, I don't speak-"

"L-am văzut și eu. Diavolul, maică. Aici nu mai e demult casa Domnului. Pleacă cât mai poți, am să mă rog pentru tine."

Her voice is shaky and she seems in distress. She strokes your arm once before limping away hastily. You blink and spend a moment trying to collect your thoughts. There's no one else nearby to ask for a translation, so you can only hope she finds help somewhere else. You return to the group and hope you won't have to deal with any other adventures.

"This is the annex. You can still see some details in the arches." Your guide points around the pillars and mossy brick patches. You take out your phone for some photos and your arms tremble slightly.

"It's suddenly very cold here, don't you think so?" you remark to your neighbor.

"Really? I'm quite literally sweating right now" they respond, baffled.

"It's a shaded area, that's probably why."

"Or you're just that excited to see me again."

Your eyes widen. It's the voice. You blink, and you find yourself in the empty church once more. No, no, no, this isn't happening. No. You're dreaming. This is an absurdity. Some hallucination of sorts. You try the door handle, except this time it's locked.

"It's not often I become interested in a mortal. In fact, this is the only time."

The nun is sitting on a bench, hands together in a praying motion. There's a mocking grin on its face.

"Maddening, truly. Deplorable, disgraceful, outrageous. Humiliation would await me if they suspected my intentions with a perishable being like you."

"Who the hell are you?" you interrupt the erratic monologue. The nun stands up and locks eyes with you, instantly making you nauseous.

"The Sixty-second Spirit, President Mighty and Great. His Office is to give True Answers of Hidden Treasures, and to tell where Serpents may be seen. The which he will bring unto the Exorciser without any Force or Strength being by him employed. He governeth 38 Legions of Spirits."

"What?"

"Valac." the creature extends a hand, as if expecting a handshake. "At least that's how they introduce me in the Lesser Key of Solomon." The fingers spread out and you feel a gravitational force pull you closer. It chuckles.

The cold fingers sink into your back and feel like claws digging your flesh. You let out a scream of protest and try to push away without success. It hurts. The touch burns your skin and spreads out like a wicked plague. What would this fiend even want from you? You search your mind for potential meanings and explanations. Truth be told, however, you're not well-versed in theological fantasies.

"You can't just possess someone's body. I won't accept it. You don't have my permission."

The creature erupts in hysterical laughter and you feel your knees weaken at the sharp, grotesque teeth that creep their way out. Everything about it is vile, scandalous. Unholy.

"If you want to call it like that...Then sure. But for this kind of possession I don't need your input, I'm afraid."

Your limp body is picked up and sloppily thrown over the altar table. The impact of the hard surface against your stomach causes you to gasp. You try to turn your head and look behind, but the large, clawed hand locks around your neck and keeps you in place. You can only glance ahead. You can sense your garments being ripped apart with one swift move and shudder at the unexpected contact with the cold air on your bare body. The creature's other hand slides over your forms before stopping on your bottom, adjusting it. The realization sinks in and you begin to panic. Is this the time to say a prayer? You don't know any.

"Our Father..." you mumble, trying to remember the continuation.

"Go on. I'm sure He'd love to hear from you while you're being fucked on His altar. Send Him my regards."

He forces your hips upwards, exposing your intimacy. Without any further delay he thrusts his member in, painfully stretching your entrance around it. Tears well up in your eyes at the sudden discomfort. The iconostasis in front of you blurs and sways with each violent plunge into your frail body.

"Oh, God" you sob.

"God ends here."

#the nun #the nun 2 #the conjuring #valak #valac #valak x reader #valak smut #the nun smut #yandere #yandere x reader #demon x reader #ars goetia

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magxnoria · 2 years

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Starring Tokyo Revengers Men In ✰ Fight Night

Cast Line Up Ran, Rindou, Haruchiyo, Mikey, Kakucho, Hajime and Current Shuji

Rated PG-13

Minors This Isn’t For You

Summary ✰ How The Men react When you defend them! Your Hands getting Bloody Got Their Minds Getting Hazy!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ran Haitani

✰ For the First time in Ran’s Life he can truly say he flabbergasted, Seeing you one punch a fool out got him standing there shocked

✰ He can't help but Fanboy, You knocked this idiot lights out for him? Oh he's flattered and turned on at the same time

✰ He boasts and Brags about how you defended his “honor” to Rindou and Sanzu whenever he gets the opportunity

✰ “One punch and the fuckers teeth flew out” Ran boasts as Rindou sighs, “ And you stood there just fawning like a fucking idiot while your babe's hands got dirty with blood?” Sanzu asked making Ran dramatically gasp. “Hell No. I got a few stomps in” Ran grinned as Sanzu laughed and Rindou tried his best to ignore the conversation

✰ Ran Hates to admit it but he loves seeing you fight, something about you getting Violent just makes him hot and bothered

✰ “ You look so hot when you're angry maybe I should keep you mad then” Ran teases as his fingers hold your chin up

The day was going well, Ran and you were spending your time together basking in each other's company. You were happy to have Ran all to yourself without him being busy with work or whatever Shenanigans he has with Haruchiyo and Rindou but every good thing comes to an end

“You a bitch, Ran Haitani. A good for nothing blight on society!” Bolstering fool yelled making Ran roll his eyes, “And what makes you able to judge Him huh? Look at you with those grease stains on your shirt and your uneven Haircut” You said back to Bolstering Fool before Ran could even open his mouth

“You think you're bad because of your Haitani little plaything? Your boyfriend isn't shi-” Bolster fool said before your fist connected with his head, The punch you landed made the man crumble to the ground like a balled up piece of paper. Ran couldn't keep himself from staring at you slack jawed, “ You knocked him out like it was nothing? When you learn how to do that?” Ran asked before grabbing your hand

“I learned a few things hanging out with the guys and you, thought it would help to be strong myself” You answer back nonchalantly making Ran grin, “ Never thought I would see the day that you would defend me like that” Ran grinned before pulling you close to him. “Now let us go get something to eat I'm hungry” You sighed as Ran kissed your forehead, “ Okay anything for my bodyguard” Ran Giggled

Rindou Haitani

✰Rindou's eyes had never been wider than the moment he saw you toss the annoying woman who was flirting with him across the floor of the club

✰ The way You was able to bob & weave before picking her up by her hair and rag dolling her got Rindou stunned

✰ Never has he ever seen the side of you, Now he needs to know what makes you tick and when you learned how to fight like this.

✰ “What Rinnie Thought you were the only one who knew how to break bones huh?” You teased as Rindou's eyebrow only raised at you

✰ Rindou's nerves getting worked by Ran and Sanzu every day now, They can't keep quiet about how strong you are

✰ “Hulked up in the fucking club, Never seen ya babe do that before man” Sanzu laughed while Ran Giggled,” Like wrestling or some shit” Ran grins before Rindou made them hush up. “Keep talking, maybe I'll let the love of my life put your asses in casts” Rindou glared making the laughter stop

✰ With You by his side he feels oddly unstoppable now. He just got to keep an eye on you, don't need you getting hurt or snapping bones like twigs

Rindou was Annoyed, This woman has been flirting with him up for the last thirty minutes and he had more than enough. “Can't you take a hint?” I’m not interested” Rindou glared as the trifling broad kept flapping her lips, “How can I leave you alone? You look so lonely sitting here by yourself” Trifling broad pouted making Rindou pray for you to show up

His prayers were answered when he heard your voice, “Who the fuck do you think you're flirting with?” You asked Making Trifling Broad look at you uglily. “And who are you?” She answered back with a question of her own, “The one who his heart belongs to. So back off before I get mad” You said while smiling making Trifling Broad's eye twitch before she tried to sucker punch you but you were faster than her

You dodge her punch without any effort before punching her in the ribs and grabbing her by her hair, Rindou's eyes widening as you tossed Trifling Broad across the club by Her hair before coming to sit on his lap while acting as you didn't just use a woman as a human frisbee

“Since when did you know how to fight?” Rindou as you smiled up at him, “I always knew how to fight. Just The opportunity for me to fight never came up” You said before kiss his cheek. “Damn I love you” Rindou groaned before Ran interrupted you two, “That was Amazing” Ran gushed making Rindou sigh

Haruchiyo Sanzu

✰ You got Haruchiyo questioning reality, One Minute this drunk bitch was splashing her drink in his face and the next she was on the floor like a broken chip

✰ He's used to being the crazy one in the relationship but seeing you resort to violence for him? Got him straining in his pants

✰ “Fuck. I never knew you had this in you” Haruchiyo exclaims as he pushed his wet bangs out of his face

✰ He had never been more turned on in his life, he got to take you someplace less crowded and show you what you did to him

✰ The Haitani's are more cautious around you now, you're as crazy as your boyfriend in their eyes

✰ “Kicked the girl's nose in while wearing stilettos” Ran whispers to Takeomi as Haruchiyo laughs, “Dont forget My babe was Wearing a dress too and looked graceful as fucked while doing it” Haruchiyo grins while Ran just stares at the madman

✰ Yes he's Insane but he's insanely in love with you and that's all that matters

Haruchiyo leaned against the bar as he watched you dance from afar, His drink in his hand as he took in the way you moved only to be disturbed by drunken slurs. “So you're gonna pretend you don't know me, Huh?? After Breaking My heart!” Drunken bitch spat out pulling Haruchiyo from his trance

“Look Lady I don't fucking know you. Can You please get out of my fucking space?” Haruchiyo said while trying not to get pissed off, “You know what? Fuck you bastard” the Drunken bitch slurred before tossing the entire glass of liquor in Haruchiyo's face. Like in a movie you turned around to see everything happen in slow motion.

Before everyone knew it you had delivered a roundhouse kick to a drunken bitch head that Even Made Manjiro Sano say damn, Haruchiyo couldn't help but be shocked as you walked over to him. “You okay baby?” You asked as you grabbed a napkin and dried off his face while he pushed back his bangs

“I'm alright. That was just so fucking hot” Haruchiyo groaned as he pulled you close to him, “Let's leave. Go somewhere quiet for a while hmmm?” Haruchiyo whispered in your ear as you bit your lip. “Okay Haru, Let's go” You grinned before grabbing his hand and walking over the unconscious body of Drunken Bitch to leave.

“I got that all on Camera, World star!” Ran giggled as Rindou rolled his eyes at his brother.

Manjiro Sano

✰ Manjiro is used to protecting you, The thought never crossed his mind that one day you might defend him

✰ But now he sits in his chair chilled to the core as you wail on the fool that disrespected his name

✰ The same hands that lovingly caress him is currently turning a man's face bloody, even Sanzu is shocked seeing you go wild with rage

✰ Manjiro is touched, That you would dirty your hands for him and spill blood but he doesn't want you to harm yourself

✰ Is quick to grab your fist and calm you down while his man takes care of the mess you made and the unconscious fool

✰ Manjiro's Love for you is solidified more than ever now, You love him so much that you bruised up your knuckles because a fucker disrespected his name? He needs to buy you a wedding ring ASAP

Another Night in the club but you didn't mind, You liked being around Manjiro and his Men after all he is a king and this is his kingdom. You focused on dancing and enjoying the night but unfortunately, that would be ruined for you. “ Manjiro is a weakling. A tapeworm” Drunk Bastard said pissing you off

“What did you say?” You asked before cracking your knuckles, “ You heard me bitch. Manjiro Sano is nothing but a piece of garbage pail sludge” Drunk bastard slurred making you jump out of your heels as you approached him at rapid speed before decking him in the mouth with your fist

“Say that shit again… Oh, you can't huh? You grinned as you let rage take over as you continued to beat the man senseless, the club coming to a halt as Manjiro and his men watched you Pummel Drunk bastard to a pulp. You only stopped when Manjiro himself had grabbed your fist, “I don't want you to Hurt yourself. Let Sanzu Take care of him” Manjiro said before helping you up

“You didn't have to get your hands bruised and dirty for me you know.” Manjiro said as he cleaned you up, “I want to protect you because i love you” You respond back to him making him sigh. “ You're the most precious person to me, I can't risk you getting hurt.” Manjiro said before kissing your lips, “I love you” Manjiro whispered before kissing your hand

Kakucho

✰ Maybe it's because he just got smacked across the face but did Kakucho Just see you bodyslam the woman who slapped him unprovoked?

✰ Mans thinks he's hallucinating cause he had Never seen you this angry before nor has he seen you lay your hands on someone like this

✰ You got Kakucho worried for you, did you get hurt? Has any harm come to you? Got him stressing

✰ “ You didn't have to do that you know” Kakucho whispers in your ear as you iced his face, “ Like hell I didn't. I got to protect you like you protect me” You sighed making Kakucho feel warm

✰ Man does he loves you but please don't put yourself in Harm's way for him, He doesn't know how he would handle it if something happened to you

✰ He hears wedding bells in the distance and he knows that's not a hallucination

Kakucho was sitting on the park bench waiting for you, the day was beautiful but everything had to turn ugly. “You piece of shit! You broke me!” Misguided wretch screamed shaking Kakucho out of his thoughts, “ I'm sorry but you got me confused for someone else” Kakucho said as he tried to reason with a visibly drunk woman

“How dare you try to gaslight me?” Misguided Wretch screamed before slapping Kakucho across the face but before Misguided Wretch knew it She was being slammed to the ground by you, “ How dare you slap him? My man” You yelled out as your hands pounded on the woman's face

You let your anger boil over as continued to beat her ass even as she clawed at you. You were hellbent on making her pay for what she did, Only stopping when you finally knocked her light out. Kakucho was quick to help you up and fix your clothes but your concern was all on him

“Kaku, are you okay? You asked as you softly held his face, “ Im alright but are you okay? Kakucho replied back as he searched you for injuries. “ You didn't have to do that you know,” Kakucho said making you smile, “ I did it because I love you and no one disrespects the one I love” you responded back before kissing his face. “Now to get some ice for your face” you said before grabbing his hand

Hajime Kokonoi

✰ You got Hajime's brain not working. he puzzled and in the deepest stages of shock, seeing you knock out the man who spanked your ass in passing

✰ It happened so quickly that Hajime questioning his thoughts, The only thing that confirms that it happens is your bruised knuckles and the unconscious fool who lays before you

✰ He's so turned on right now, he can't hide it. You can fight? Like this? Fuck.

✰ Is quick to clean your knuckles off before massaging them while staring at you with eyes full of infatuation

✰ “I never knew you could punch like that,” Hajime said while his eyes searched yours for a reaction, “I just got mad that's all” You answer him back

✰ Remind him to never get you mad then, Your punches are lethal. But he has to admit it's so hot seeing this side of you

✰ He got a new weakness and again it involves you.

You couldn't help but feel warm all over as you walked with Hajime, He always made you feel like heaven when your hand was held by his but you were pulled back to earth when you felt a hand that wasn't Hajime Spanked your ass. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” You asked before letting go of Hajime Hand and approaching disgusting Sleazebag

“A man who knows when he sees a beautiful ass he has to spank it” Disgusting sleazebag answered back making you snap, before you knew it your anger had taken control of you and your fist was against Disgusting sleazebag's head. You sent disgusting sleazebag flying against the pavement as Hajime stood there confused

“What the fuck just happened?” Hajime asked while you wrapped your arms around him, “ He spanked my ass and I punched his lights out Koko” You sighed While Hajime rubbed your back. “I never knew you had power in your punches” Hajime said making you giggle, “ I never got this pissed off before” You smiled as Hajime Grabbed your hand

“Let get some ice for your hand” Hajime said before walking away with you leaving Disgusting sleazebag on the ground dazed and confused

Shuji Hanma

✰ Shuji thought he knew everything about you but apparently he was wrong, The way you just dropped this fucker who was starting shit with Him got Shuji grinning like a madman

✰ Damn you were made for each other, fucking soulmates in his mind. He can't believe you could be so ruthless

✰ Got Him leaking just from seeing you draw blood from this idiot's head it's like he woke up in the hottest dream ever

✰ “ Damn Babe. He's out” Shuji says while he pulls you away from the imbecile, “ So fucking Hot, Now let's leave this scene” Shuji groans before catching your lips in a sloppy kiss

✰ He's always talking about how good of a fighter you are, Kisaki is sick of hearing about it

✰ “ before I knew it babe had dodged his punches and had him laying there like a wet duvet,” Shuji says while Kisaki massages his temples

✰ The damn world better get used to hearing Shuji gush about how quick with your hands you is because he's never gonna shut up

You spent the day with Shuji as he took pictures of the scenery, Your head on his shoulder as he looked through his camera roll. “Looks good Shu” You smiled only for that smile to run off your face. “Look at this, a bitch sitting here with his camera” Blubbering dumbass said making Shuji roll his eyes, “ I dont know who the fuck you think you are but leave us alone before things get ugly” Shuji Responded back making Blubbering dumbass sneer

“You can't tell me what to do, you weak pathetic worm.” Blubbering dumbass quickly snapped back making you stand up, “Look leave us alone.” You said before glaring the man down. “Oh, you think you make me scared? You and your boyfriend isn't nothing but bitc-” Blubber asshole said before he was cut off with a punch to the gut

Shuji's mouth opening up as he watched you beat the shit out of blubbering dumbass, your fist damaging the man with every blow you gave making Shuji get aroused, “ Fuck babe. You got hands” Shuji said as he walked to you before grabbing your arms. “Hes out cold. Don't want you to damage your hands” Shuji said before helping you up

“Fuck. That was hot. Never knew you had that in you” Shuji grinned before kissing your lips, “now let's go home because I got another way you can take your anger out” Shuji groaned as he held your hand

Likes, Comments, Reblogs, And Asks are Appreciated & Loved

Please Don’t Steal My Shit

#ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma x reader #kokonoi x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers x black!reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x black reader #anime x black!reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyorev x reader #black writer

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mistystepmoonbeam · 4 months

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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 12

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 12: You take a walk through the cellar in the blighted village. When the others catch up you say something that freaks out Astarion.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: I was undecided if I wanted to post this >.> But what the hells.

You’re on your own, now. Just for a bit, thanks to Wyll convincing Tav you don’t need to be watched at all times. And with no more goblins between you and camp you’re able to be left alone to sort out…yourself, you guess.

You didn’t throw up again after leaving Ethel’s, but you may have done some crying as you walked in circles around the forest by the village. If it wasn’t for having to face the others you’d have run back to camp, pulled scratch into your tent and bawled your eyes out.

Though you promised to go back to camp you find yourself in the blighted village. You can't read the sign at the entrance but you know it says Moonhaven, and you try to memorise what you think the letters might be.

A little stop can’t hurt, you think. Anything to avoid a conversation about what happened. And you can collect the herbs that are in the cellar, along with anything else that might be useful. You take a small swig of the health potion to get the taste of bile out of your mouth and then stash it into your bag, since it’s now nearly empty after leaving your personal hoard at camp, and head down into the cellar. Whatever objects had been clinking in there remain a mystery–you still haven’t looked inside and won’t even as you add more to the pack.

As much as you had wanted to abandon your staff you took it with you. Necromancy or not, it could bludgeon someone should the need arise. And apparently it can cast light in a small radius around you because it does just that when you make it to the bottom of the ladder.

With a slight purple tint, the staff lets out an eerie glow giving you just enough light to see by. There’s a small buzz of energy through your body that you assume is the Weave. Not wanting to question things anymore, you get to work prying open the barrels and crates and find the herbs you’re there for. You circle around and pick up a couple health potions, a couple mystery potions to be identified later, and find the hidden lever. You hesitate before pushing it down, but curiosity gets the better of you in the end. You watch the shelves move and step into the secret cave.

Now that you’re aware of the phantom limb and what it has been reaching for, you can feel the dead weigh on your mind. You know where they are, kind of in the same way you could navigate your room in the dark. They’re permanent objects stuck in place, and should you so desire, you can reach out and move them.

“I guess I’m a necromancer,” you mutter as you pluck a bone cap out of the ground. “Awesome. Couldn’t be a wizard or a sorcerer or…wait, am I one of those?”

Wyll seemed to make it sound like a necromancer was separate, but it kind of was a subcategory of wizard.

You straighten and keep moving, turning the corner and finding the cavern. You ignore everything there and head for the mirror that waits beyond the wooden planks.

When you step up to it the staff's eyes glow violet again, and the mirror slides open. You sigh. “Necromancer it is, then.”

But…maybe there’s a clue to your identity in this place if you’re powerful or rich enough? You move inside and find the lab on the right, the paperwork scattered about, and logbooks. Or you assume they’re the logbooks—you can’t read, after all. Instead of flipping through them you head to the exit and find the rusty key on the shelves. Soon enough you’re standing before the first trap that lights the braziers, and risk the step. The room is filled with light as the fires blaze to life.

The Necromancy of Thay is just beyond the barred door, and this time you can hear it. It whispers to you, quiet little voices that speak in a language you don’t know. They’re distant, but like with the bodies of the dead you know where the book is.

It takes some strength to push the rusty key into the padlock on the door, and with some force you manage to turn it. The whispers quiet.

“A well hidden laboratory, wonder what it’s doing down here?”

You turn to find Tav, Wyll and Astarion walking into the lab. He still has both eyes, at least. After he outed Astarion you thought he might take the hag’s deal.

“How did you find this place?” you ask.

He only offers you a shrug, eyes darting around the lab in search of loot.

You relent, “I found the hatch and started looking around.”

Tav smiles and rests his hands on the back of his head. Maybe he’s just happy you aren’t ignoring him again, or running away. By the way his tail flicks at the air you think that might be it, and the reason he’s being quieter than usual.

“I followed your tracks,” Wyll reveals. Well, he did hunt down all sorts of beings as the Blade of Frontiers. “What have you found?”

“Creepy book,” you reply. They approach you, surveying the book and everything else in the small cage.

“Trapped, most likely,” Astarion says. He steps forward carefully and does something to the stand the book is on. It’s so quick you don’t have time to peer around him and get a good look at what “disarm trap” really looks like.

Astarion picks up the book, turning it in his hands. They begin to discuss what it could be when you remember the bracers that are down here. You slip away without a thought and find the nearby gilded chest, poking it before opening it. There are traps here, who knows what else could be rigged to explode?

When you open the chest you feel a wave of magic—Weave—come from it. It’s different from the warmth of the healing magic, somehow sharper, more demanding. You pull the bracers out and put them in your bag, nearly overflowing with loot now.

You turn to rejoin the group only to nearly run into Astarion on the level below you. You stumble back and catch yourself. “I think Shadowheart was right about putting a bell on you.”

He gives you a smirk, genuine, your surprise. A thought occurs but rather than ask it you bite the inside of your right cheek.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks. You don’t know what he’s referring to, considering the amount of surprises you’ve had lately. He goes on, waving one hand in the air. “Filthy rich, can’t read, enchanted clothing, and now, a necromancer.”

“To be fair, I don’t know anything about all of that.” You try not to sigh too hard thinking of what Auntie Ethel had said.

“I wonder what other secrets that little head holds…” he muses. It’s more to himself than you. “And you killed on my behalf, I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know, that’s what makes it all the more entertaining. You, the picture of innocence, murdered a man for a vampire spawn. Ha!”

You furrow your brow, unsure how you could be considered the picture of innocence. But maybe that was only compared to those Astarion knew. It was your first murder…and only murder! Not first. Just the one, and only, murder.

Yes, you are rather innocent in the terms of this world.

Astarion pinches your cheek between two fingers, bringing you back to the conversation. “Don’t think this makes us even.”

“Okay,” you say when he lets go. You rub at where he’d pinched, shocked he touched you so casually. And not just that…his fingers are warm. “Uhm…”

Astarion quirks a brow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question? About being a vampire.”

He leans his weight into one foot, crossing his arms as he eyes you warily. “I suppose.”

“Why are you warm? Shouldn’t you be, like, cold? Or room temperature?”

Astarion, for all his acting, is easy to read. His eyes widen as he steps back, arms uncrossing and held out before him like he’s trying to catch his balance. “What did you say?”

“Sorry, is that rude?” You shift on your heels. “I just thought vampires would be cold, with the…being dead, and all.”

“We are,” Astarion confirms, voice grim.

“But your skin is warm.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

“I literally just had your hand on my cheek. You’re warm.”

“I think I know what temperature my own body is!” Astarion huffs and walks away. You notice the bag that rests on his back has the weight of the book within.

You move down the steps as he paces, annoyed.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Tav asks.

You answer, “I asked him why—”

But you don’t get to finish it because Astarion wraps one hand over your mouth and the other on the back of your head, successfully silencing you. He says, “Nothing! Nothing at all. Just discussing what reward I might offer for valiantly saving me from a monster hunter.”

You roll your eyes. But having his skin on yours again confirms his heat. He feels like a living, breathing human. Why did that freak him out? When he releases you he gives you a hard stare that’s easy to understand. Shut. Up.

Wyll and Tav watch you, waiting to see what you say but you just shrug. “It’s not that important.”

Wyll frowns, but lets it go. For now. Tav bites into his bottom lip but keeps silent.

Astarion’s words remind you of something you’d like to forget. The Gur. You can’t even recall his name right now. Maybe you should have tried harder to keep Astarion away, or convinced them to not go there at all. But you didn’t, and there was no reset now.

You watch Tav flit about the basement collecting loot. It does little to help your mood, but at the very least you take comfort in the fact that they didn’t call you a monster for what you did. You promise to keep better watch of those chords in your head, the little phantom strings that connect to the dead around you. Because avoiding the dead is an impossible task, at least as long as you travel with Tav and everyone.

When you return to the surface the others are waiting by the well. You spot your bag of gold on Gale’s shoulder and hurry to take it from him, but he holds up his hands to stop you. “What kind of man would I be if I let an injured person carry so much weight?”

You’re about to argue but think better of it when the world sways a little. You manage to stay still, probably, and thank him instead.

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling the magic bracers from your other pack. “I thought you might want these.”

Gale takes the bracers. It’s then that you notice the bags under his eyes are especially dark—and you realize he hasn’t told anyone about his condition. As far as you know. The little lines that travel up the side of his neck and towards his left eye are darker, too.

Your thumbnail scratches at your staff as you wait for him to say something. Anything. Literally anything would be good right now because it’s been ten whole seconds of him staring at the bracers and that’s long enough of him being silent that the others are now looking.

“Gale?” Tav asks.

It jolts him out of his stupor. “Yes? Oh, yes.” He looks at you. “Thank you. Perhaps there’s something I must admit…”

Gale goes through his first speech about the orb, and then his second. It’s a lot to take in in one go, if you haven’t heard it all before. At the end he says, “I understand if you want to part ways—this orb, for lack of a better word, is immensely dangerous.”

Tav asks, “Why?”

All eyes turn to him, his head tilted with a smile on his face.

“Because I could explode,” Gale says slowly.

“So?” Tav points to each companion as he adds, “Shar worshipper, warlock turned devil, angry githyanki, infernal engine that could explode, vampire, necromancer with memory loss, and I’m sorry Halsin we’ve barely just met, but…uh, old?”

There are worse things to be said, about all of you.

“Plus we’ve all got worms in our heads,” Karlach says. “Oh, well except for…”

Gale lets out a small laugh. “Thank you. All of you. Now, even I’m getting tired of my own voice so shall we get going?”

The group begins their journey back to the goblin camp.

“I am not angry,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost a hiss. “At least not at any of you. The mindflayers, however…”

Halsin walks next to her, asking questions about the tadpoles and their magic, while Astarion and Wyll follow, then Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav. You and Gale are last to leave the village.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Gale asks.

You hesitate too long before answering. “No.”

“You are a terrible liar.” He keeps his voice low as you walk, putting the bracers on his wrists. “But I consider that a good thing.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. They seem to consider your knowledge to be some kind of deadly premonition, so maybe you should lean into that. “I can’t really explain it.”

Gale smiles but it’s weak.

“We’ll find lots of stuff for you to eat,” you assure him. “Or absorb, I mean. Like those!”

You point at the bracers. He holds them closer to where you know the orb is tattooed on his chest, breathing deeply.

“And if we can’t find anything there’s always my boots, or coat.”

“You would offer me those?” Gale looks you up and down like he had when you’d first met.

You shrug. “Of course. Oh, do you need them now? Because I just need to sit down to get them—”

You lift a foot as you walk, nearly stumbling to the ground when Gale stops you. “No, no, I’m fine for now. I am just—very grateful to have such a generous companion.”

“It’s not really generosity if it’s something you need though,” you argue.

Gale smiles gently but moves on. “So what’s this I hear about you being a necromancer?”

Whatever emotion crosses your face makes him pull back and try to change the subject. Regret, maybe, or pain. You can’t focus on controlling your features with so much going on. “I don’t want to be…that. I can feel…I can feel where they are—like something is dragging behind me. It’s heavy, but easy. I don’t want it to be easy.”

“Just because something comes easily to you doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

You look up at him, unaware your gaze has been on the ground this whole time. “But I did it by accident. I can’t—I can’t exactly control it.”

“That’s no problem to learn,” Gale says, as if moving the dead was no harder than riding a bike. “Learn to control it, and don’t use it. Though if you can move a boar in your sleep you must have some considerably…powerful benefactors in Baldur’s Gate to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he says, “but if you can use magic without the intent, without the movements or incantations, then you hold a great power. And that is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the wealthy elite.”

Chosen. Like Gale had once been of Mystra you too could be the preferred mortal of a god.

“Meaning there may be some unhappy people if I don’t use magic.”

“It’s only one possibility of many,” Gale assures you. “And until we know more I am happy to help you control your magic. I’m told I’m an excellent teacher.”

You twirl the staff between your fingers and laugh. “It would be an honour to learn from you.”

Taglist:

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#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #reborn into bg3 #astarion x reader #tav x reader ???#I keep forgetting about the staff to be honest #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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helluvapoison · 6 months

Note

Hi!!! For the injury promts, could i ask for prompt 6+dialogue 17 with Lucifer? Im down so bad for this man-

you make it easy

warning: blood, violence, ooc(?), angsty and dramatic

Stars, he should’ve accepted your offer when you asked to join him on this morning’s errands. He was a fool to think his good mood would last.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Believe it or not, there was a time when Lucifer noticed everything. The sky is brighter than it was yesterday, he would say to no one, he simply noticed. Nowadays it was harder, a struggle to live outside his own mind. There was a passing thought every now and again. Hey, that lamp is new or Charlie’s nails match Maggie’s. But even those came at the worst times and he never pointed them out when he should, be it in the middle of an argument or entirely different conversation. Determined, he kept trying. More than that, he tried to see his world through his daughter’s eyes, to see that there could be good in the strangest places.

It was hard when the looming cloud of misery and evil followed him every time he tried to leave the hotel. The only time it didn’t was when he was accompanied by you. Charlie, as good natured and pure as she somehow was, was biased. Lilith’s doing, of course. His ex-wife made it seem like Lucifer’s decision was a gift and not the curse that it really was. But you… you were magical. You held an umbrella he couldn’t see that kept him safe from the endless troubles he made with his own two hands. While he knew he had every capability to protect himself physically, the inner workings of his mind was an entirely different story. Besides, it was, admittedly, nice to have someone else do it simply because.

You didn’t want anything from him. You just thought he was worth the effort.

If only he could think the same for himself. Not even two blocks into town did the thick clouds gather into a storm above his crown. It whipped and raged in his mind, hissing what he already knew. He wasn’t. God was punishing him for a reason and that reason stared him in the face every waking moment in Hell. Piles of bodies, gallons of blood, drugs, sex, etc. Not an hour could go by without seeing it all. So who could blame him when he lost sight of Charlie’s dream in the fog of guilt and self pity? How was he supposed to notice anything other than the deplorable sinners and their heinous ways?

He rounded the first corner he could, gasping and clutching at his vest. Whistle leaning against the cool bricks, a shadow stretched toward him. He saw. He saw the demon, he saw the jagged knife and he saw the intent in their eyes. Going against the King of Hell was a suicide mission but Lucifer saw exactly what they wanted from him. Retribution.

In all but a moment it was over. Red blood splattered on the alley wall opposite to him, merely adding to the number of stains it had worn over the centuries. Golden blood though? WItnessing that was a treat indeed. Through the tear in Lucifer’s ivory suit he could see it dribbling down his arm. As his eyes traveled over his attire he could see it was also blighted by the demon’s blood. That took precedence over his own injury but at the time he was grateful for the distraction. The news would lap up a scandal with the Morningstar name on it–

He needed to leave.

Lucifer attempted to summon his wings but they refused to budge. The sky was unsafe to them. It felt as if a thousand eyes were judging him from above. Fuck the news— Heaven was judging him.

He needed to hide.

The man slammed the end of his cane against the ground, instantly conjuring a portal that dropped him unceremoniously into your room.

A guttural growl ripped from his throat as he took in his surroundings of your belongings, “No! No, you stupid–!”

“Lucifer?”

You performed magic once again; turning gold into ice and freezing him in place with his back to you. He begged the wall for answers. What should he say? What should he do? Why the fuck did his magic bring him here when he just wanted to–

“Is that– Fuck! You’re bleeding!” You gasped

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed! Funny story, I didn’t mean to intrude– you know me, a gentleman should always knock– so I’ll just get out of your hair.”

As he spoke you’d scrambled over and stole any chance he had of absconding out of there. His voice got smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. You reached not for his arm but for his coat, pulling it back to reveal a bigger patch of gold seeping through his vest.

“Oh that can’t be good.” He muttered, more annoyed than anything.

“Ok, uh, fuck. Fuck. You stay here and I’ll get—”

The second he felt you withdraw he whipped around and snatched your wrist like a lifeline. Your chest puffed with a smaller, quieter gasp as you drank in his appearance. Covered in more blood than just his own, he looked utterly panicked. Less than few had seen the king this way.

“No! No, I-I-I can’t have anyone see,” Daring to look down at himself, he foolishly thought maybe the gorey reminder wouldn't be there. And like a fool he winced when it was, “this. Please don’t tell anyone— Especially not Charlie.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in you, just a firm nod that filled him with relief.

“You’ll do everything I say then.” You bartered, though it wasn’t much of an option.

Lucifer’s heart threatened to plummet to his stomach. He tried desperately to blink away the fog of doubt that lingered. You wouldn’t blackmail him… would you?

“I… Yes? W-Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything—! Er. I mean, I guess I want you to listen and be still while I clean you up? I’ll probably have to burn this before Al sniffs it out. And Nifty’s been going through my shit again so it’ll take me a minute to find…”

You began talking to yourself and Lucifer tuned your voice to background noise when he heard all he needed to. Of course you wouldn’t blackmail him, he felt horrible he even doubted that!

The word ridiculous came to mind as he looked up to try and spot that invisible umbrella you always seemed to be holding for him. While Lucifer searched the air, you got to work. He was malleable for your gentle hands, allowing you to strip his upper half and discard the evidence in the fireplace of your room (he didn’t complain, you’ve seen his suit collection) You diligently cleaned both cuts with utmost care, surpassing what he deemed acceptable and ignoring him when he said exactly that. Only when his skin was porcelain again did you bandage them with a nearly depleted first aid kit you kept under your bed.

“Here, it might be big on you but it beats freezing. The sixth floor has a vendetta against working heaters so it gets chilly here. That's why I keep the fireplace on all night.” You rambled as you pulled one of your own shirts over Lucifer’s head. He noted it was one of your favorites as he had seen you wear it often. Sometimes days in a row! He was more than honored; he was on cloud nine! If this is how you felt when you wore it, he’d never take it off.

“Thank you.” Lucifer said softly. For everything, he didn’t add.

“Anytime,” You replied dutifully. Then casually killed him with, “You can have my bed, by the way. I’ll take the sofa.”

“That-That’s much too generous. You’ve already done so much, I—“

“If it were me, would you let me leave?”

His eyebrows nearly shot up and off his head. The very thought of you bruised and bleeding in his room had flames licking the back of his throat. He needed to expel the smoke through a sigh, covering it up with a fist to his mouth, mumbling,

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“My sentiments exactly. So get your royal ass in the bed… Your majesty.” You bowed low and perfectly, keeping eye contact with him all throughout your bit.

A minuscule laugh escaped him and you beamed seeing your efforts were not in vain.

“Fine. Well… we could, ah, both fit in your bed. If you wanted! I-I’m just looking at it a-and that sofa is not an adequate sleeping area for you. Much too small.” He squinted at your couch disapprovingly, pursing his lips as he pretended his heart wasn’t about to leap out of his chest.

You stood to your full height, seemingly considering the offer, “Only if you’re sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Already pulling back the covers for both of you, he scoffed and actually tried to shoo your worries away with a wave of his hand.

“Hurt me? No one can hurt— Oh. Hm. You caught me on a bad day, I can’t say what I normally do.” Lucifer tucked his hooves under the blankets as he spoke, waiting for your cue of laughter that never came.

The bed dipped beside him, much closer than he was anticipating. Your forehead melted against the top of his fluffy, blonde hair. He watched your hands twitch, longing to embrace him but too cautious for your own good. If he wasn’t such a coward he would close the distance himself.

“I didn’t know you could get hurt.” You sighed heavily, finally releasing what had troubled you since you saw him.

Lucifer’s brows dipped in concern but he kept his eyes trained on the burning fireplace across the way, “Anyone can get hurt down here.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. You’re the king.”

“You’re going to give me a big head, darling. Being a king doesn’t exempt me from pain. There’s quite a few ex-kings down here that could tell you that,” He attempted to laugh. Subconsciously his hand landed over his bandaged side, rubbing the soft fabric of your well-loved shirt. “I’ll be alright. Besides it wasn’t an angelic weapon so it wasn’t a serious assassination atte—“

“What?” You reeled back with wide eyes, kneeling beside him and gripping his shoulders lightly, silently begging him to focus, “Wha-What do you mean!? People have tried to kill you before!?”

He stared at you like you asked him why the sky was red. He didn’t understand your panic but he knew he didn’t like it.

“Well… yes? Yours truly isn’t only hated by Heaven. There’s plenty of people down here that pray for the royals' downfall, Hellborn and sinners.” Lucifer tilted his head, confusion had his brows furrowing, “But they can’t kill me.”

“But-But you said it probably wasn’t serious? How do you know? Who did this to you; what did they look like? I-I’ll go find them and—“

“Good golly, breathe! Just let it go, it doesn't matter.”

Your eyes flashed red to let him know the fire of your fury you was blazing. But your eyes glassed over as well, pupils shrinking and jumping across his face like you were memorizing every detail. You held him so gently, like he was going to disappear if you let go.

“Yes it does! It matters to me because you matter to me, Lucifer!”

You were scared.

“I-I—“ He was dizzy with euphoric disbelief. You could tell him every day that you cared about him and he would become breathless every damn time. “I killed them.” He managed to choke out.

You didn’t immediately relax like he had hoped you would. Exhaling through your nose you nodded once that hit him with another magical wave of pride, solidifying his choice and making him sit slightly straighter.

“Good.” Your voice dropped dangerously for a moment. He was presented with the terrifying reminder that you are a sinner, you’re down here for a reason. He couldn’t linger on the fact when the red wisped away from your eyes and returned to the lovely shade he remembered and adored. “That’s why you didn’t want Charlie to know.”

“Anyone,” He corrected softly before his voice turned almost bitter, “No one can know. It might give people the wrong impression if their king did the opposite of what his daughter’s hotel represented. Not-Not that I care what they think but… I don’t want to let her down. Again.”

You practically pulled him in your lap, tucking your chin against his shoulder and sighing heavily. Your warm breath tickled his skin and sent every hair he had standing at attention.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” You promised.

“How.. is it so easy for you to say that?”

“I dunno.” You said all too honestly, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead on his, “Some people make it easy.”

Content with that answer, for once his mind quieted and stilled. He melted against you until he was safely tangled in your embrace.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #poiboiwrites #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar headcanon

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pennyblossom-meta · 9 months

Text

Gale/Karlach banter

Similar to my previous post: Gale/Wyll banter.

Warning: VERY long post.

Because the dialogue lines are so many, I won't add screenshots in some sections.

I'll add more items from Gale's side either here on a separate post.

Update: added some more dialogue lines

Act 01

Gale intervenes on Karlach's behalf (currently impossible to trigger)

Gale: Easy, Wyll. She's no devil. There's no fight to be had here.

Recruiting Gale

Karlach: Well done getting the wizard on board. He can zap from afar while I smack up close. But if he tries to get me to read any tomes, I will scream. devnote: Context, Karlach does not like to read

Recruiting Karlach

Gale: An ally fresh from the Hells themselves. Our company grows stranger by the minute - and all the better for it.

If Wyll is the avatar

Gale: Hunting one devil, allying yourself with another. Our journey gets more curious by the second.

First night at camp

Karlach: Gale's pretty lost in his thoughts, isn't he. Poor guy. Roughing it like this can't be his style. devnote: Genuine empathy

—

Taking a walk through the forest

Gale: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit. devnote: Brisk, invigorated Karlach: I was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically. devnote: dreamily Gale: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles. Karlach: A girl could get used to this. devnote: relieved and happy

—

Blighted Village

Karlach: Looks like this town was ransacked - by soldiers, if my eyes don't deceive me. Gale: Quite cruelly, too. Karlach: Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here. Gale: If nothing else, I hope it was a mercifully short one.

—

At the Grymforge

Gale: The architects who built this must have been remarkable. A pity their vision didn't stand the test of time. devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place. devnote: Impressed with what she sees Gale: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you? Karlach: Hope keeps you going.

—

Underdark

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

—

Act 02

Plains, near the Temple of Lathlander (or is this in Act 01?)

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away. devnote: dreamily Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. Gale: No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway. devnote: Black humour/finding the bright side

—

Mountain Pass

Karlach: Man, adventuring is thirsty work. Gale: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale. Karlach: That sounds like heaven! Wait. Used to? Gale: Oh, yes - long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still - at least your thirst for knowledge is quenched. Karlach: Ugh. devnote: Groaning at Gale's cringe joke

—

On the road to the Shadow Cursed lands

Gale: Do you feel that? A darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave. devnote: Alert, sensing something Karlach: You'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right? Gale: Of course, but that doesn't make the shadows less dangerous. devnote: Reassuring Karlach, whiloe remaning concerned about the wider dangers Karlach: Joy. devnote: sarcasm

—

Shadow Cursed lands

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh - that's just how things are. Grim humour to it Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

—

Last Light Inn, Shrine to Selûne

Gale: A hidden shrine, dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on. Karlach: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

—

Tollhouse

Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe. devnote: Confident

—

Brewery

Karlach: Huh. A brewery. Why does Reithwin Ale ring a bell? Gale: It was known to be quite the tipple - a cask or two still exists, if you know the right alekeep... devnote: Enjoying being the expert on this. He definitely knows 'the right alekeep' Karlach: You must have good taste. Not me. Can't afford it. Gale: A common misconception. Even the simplest of flavours are elevated by the choice to appreciate them. Don't deny yourself such pleasures. devnote: Kind/encouraging

—

Moonrise approach

Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. devnote: Facing an obstancle with cheery determination Karlach: In that case, welcome home.

—

Moonrise Docks

Karlach: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right? Gale: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not. devnote: Yeahhh… no. Karlach: Phew. My mum always said the Chionthar was unlucky.

—

At the mind flayer colony, under Moonrise Towers

Gale: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place... devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess. Gale: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd have been quite happy without.

Act 03

Blushing Mermaid

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (first half) Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (second half)

—

Counting House

Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.

—

Sorcerous Sundries

Gale: Look around you. Indulge your curiosity. Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Where's the axes? devnote: looking for battle-axes to the dismay of bookworm Gale Gale: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield. They sell knowledge, ingenuity, the wisdom of mages past. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Sounds like more your thing than mine.

Romance

Breakups and relationship status

Karlach's side

Player breaks up with Karlach over Gale

Karlach: Fuck off if you're here to talk about Gale. I already know. devnote: Wounded/ sadPlayer was partnered with Karlach, but ended up choosing Gale. Karlach found out on her own and is now reacting. This shouldn't be a mega aggro 'fuck off,' more like a 'go away'. Karlach: Couldn't tell me to my face, huh? Had to wait 'til I just... just figured it out. devnote: sad/bitter

Karlach: Whoa. What? You... want to be with Gale...? devnote: Copping on that the player is here to breakup with her Karlach: Since when?! devnote: angry and hurt

Karlach: I should've known Gale would weave his spell on you. Who could resist? devnote: Bittersweet. Player is dumping her for Gale. She's sad but still on good terms and trying to keep things light. Karlach: I know I had... well. You know I liked you. Like you. But I want you to be with someone who can make you happy. If that's Gale, that's Gale. devnote: Heartbroken but mature. (...) Karlach: Hope you don't regret throwing over all this fire for all that hot air. One'll get you through winter, the other'll recite you a lot of codices. But hey. To each their own. devnote: Heavy on the subtext. She's putting a lighthearted/ sarcastic spin on the fact that the player just friendzoned her for gale.

Karlach: When Gale's on page one hundred thirty six of a supremely boring recitation, and you look over and there I am throwing a lasso around a giant centipede and riding it to Chult, I'll have my comeuppance. devnote: Still keeping it a bit light/teasing

Karlach: Gale climbed out of the Weave long enough to waggle his eyebrow in your direction, huh? devnote: Still a little light. She does like Gale, despite his high-falutin-ness, so she doesn't mean this to hurt him.

Player chooses Karlach over Gale

Karlach: I thought you and Gale were... I don't know. Karlach: Gale will be all right, right? Of course he will. He's Gale. If he can take a hit from Mystra, he can take it from you.

Gale is the player and is in a relationship with Karlach

Player: My future's no more certain than your own. But when I dare to imagine having one, it's always you I see beside me. Karlach: I'm seeing you at a desk. Pile of books up to the ceiling. And me barging in with a brace of rabbits for supper. Karlach: You start chopping carrots. I stoke the fire. And every night is the best night we've ever had.

Date with Karlach, Gale is the player character

Karlach: You know, it does. There's always a bit of a veil about you - I guess it's the magic, but there's something else, too. Something I want to discover first-hand.

Q: Tell me a secret

Player: I once claimed to have read all six volumes of 'Lichen and Its Curative Properties' to impress a comely botanist. Alas, a falsehood. Karlach: You mean you haven't read all six volumes?! Gale Dekarios, I'll never look at you the same. devnote: Teasing

Player: I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat past mistakes, no matter how I try to avoid them. Karlach: I know what you mean. Changing is hard. Every time I think I've figured it out, boom, there I am again, behaving like some version of me that never learned a damn thing.

—

Gale's side

Gale: And what of Karlach? Her heart can surely break, though it burns.

Breaking up with Gale for Karlach

Gale: Karlach, yes? You burn for each other in more ways than one. Gale: I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or her? Player: I'm sorry, Gale. I want to be with Karlach. Gale: Don't be - she has a good heart. Poor phrasing - she has a terrible heart. But she's surprisingly caring, considering it.

At the tiefling party

Gale: You might be in for an adventure with Karlach. More than you bargained for - with a bit of luck. Gale: Or perhaps more than you bargained for - full stop.

Talking about Tara

Gale: You remind me of her somewhat. You share her fierceness, and her passion.

Be my God, boat scene

Gale: I'll always have you, Karlach.

Act 01

Gale had first stage of romance/attraction with player - not yet anything official. Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you: devnote: Attempting nonchalance Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it? devnote: Attempting nonchalance Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals. Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.

Gale: You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality... devnote: Hint of flirtation, mostly just trying to be helpful Karlach: Ugh. Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what? Gale: Actually, I was thinking of poetry. Karlach: Oops, sorry. But... now that I think of it... is mage hand especially hard to learn?

—

Act 02

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. devnote: Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire. Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me? devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Act 03

Gale: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach? Karlach: I sure am. If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? devnote: With concern Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. devnote: Upbeat, things are looking up Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. devnote: Upbeat mood wavering - this is a bit embarassing Karlach: I can only imagine. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'

—

Karlach dies at the end of the game, Gale is the player character

Player: Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you. devnote: Distraught, lover is dying.

variant 01: Karlach is dying, Gale is a friend

Gale: No, Karlach. Stay with me, please. We've shared too much to part like this.

—

Game finale (not epilogue)

Karlach is the player character

Gale gave the Crown to Mystra

Gale is in a romance with Karlach

Option 01

Gale: It's curious. After all the wonders and monstrosities we've witnessed, waking beside you seems more unreal than any of it. devnote: Wistful/peaceful - spent a romantic night with the person he loves Gale: I'd forgotten what it felt like, to greet a sunrise without fear of it being my last. devnote: Wistful/peaceful Gale: Oh, hells. I'm sorry. Barely awake a moment and I've already put my foot in it. devnote: Kicking himself, he's accidentally rubbed salt in his partner's very sore wound Player: Don't be. At least one of us will get the cure we were hoping for.

Option 02

Player: Don't be. It's not your fault. Gale: Come now - resignation doesn't suit you half as well as optimism. We'll find some other means of fixing up that infernal engine of yours. devnote: Caring/Encouraging

Option 03

Player: Knowing you, I'd expect nothing less. Gale: You always find a smile where others would soak in their sorrows. And I promise - you'll have reason to smile soon enough. Gale: When we get to Waterdeep, we'll search in my library. It's bound to contain the odd scroll on hellish thermodynamics. Or a spell that might diffuse the heat in such a way that - Gale: Ah. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you... that is, would you consider returning to Waterdeep with me? devnote: A bit nervous to ask - this is Karlach, after all Player: I can't. My only hope of survival is to return to Avernus - and I'm not going back. Gale: What, then? You intend to die here? Now? devnote: Refuses to believe it - essentially been told his partner is submitting to her illness

Option 04

Player: I'd love to, Gale, but I can't. My engine is done. Fully cooked. Gale: I - I don't believe it. I won't believe it. Gale: If you go were to return to the hells - temporarily - it would buy us some time. I could put something together, a means of keeping you stable at least. Please, let me try. devnote: Trying to convince her, scared by what she's saying (that she's ready to die) Player: And hand myself to Zariel on a platter? No thanks.

Option 05

Player: Say nothing. Concentrate. You feel like you might explode any second. Gale: I know that look. It's your heart isn't it? Not to worry - you have one of the finest wizards in the Realms at your fingertips.

Gale suggests going to Avernus with Karlach

Player: I'm not going back, Gale. I can't. Gale: What if... what if I went with you? devnote: Scared by his own suggestion

Option 01

Player: I couldn't let you do that. You deserve better. Gale: I deserve the chance to live my life with the raging inferno I love. If that means relocating to the hells, so be it. I've heard Avernus is quite lovely this time of year. Gale: Besides, it would be quite something to study infernal magic in its natural environs. I say 'natural' in the loosest sense, of course.

Option 02

Player: If you were with me, I might be able to handle it. Gale: There's nothing we can't handle - I promise you that. devnote: Essentially his partner just refused treatment for a terminal illness. He's putting a brave face on it so they can enjoy the time they have left. Gale: It's taken me long enough to find you. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go.

Option 03

Player: No, Gale. Neither of us is going to that pit. It all ends here. Now. I just want to see the sky one last time. Gale: If this is the end, then we face it together. That, at least, I can promise you. devnote: Heartbroken - his lover is dying next to him, thanking her for loving him

—

Gale is the player character

Karlach is a mind flayer

Gale goes back to Waterdeep

Player: I think this is where we part ways, Karlach. Karlach: I accept your assessment. You would have been an excellent helpmate in my exploration of what it is to live. But perhaps we are both of us too... changed. Karlach: Where will you go now? Player: Back to Waterdeep. I've a warm fire and a long-neglected reading list to get through.

—

Epilogue

Karlach is dead, was partnered with Gale. Karlach: I can see Gale? Withers: Indeed. His story has marched on since thy great victory - as inevitable as time itself. Let us observe.

Note: will do the rest in a separate post.

Misc banter

Gale: I think your new form rather suits you. It has a certain... cephalopodic charm to it. A tentacular tingle. devnote: Karlach will live! Yay! But she is a mind flayer

Gale: I can imagine no finer ceremorph for the job.

Gale is the player character, hasn't shared his backstory Player: I've a... condition I need to manage. I'd still be looking for a cure. Karlach: We have more in common than I knew. I won't pry for details. Right now, at least. devnote: Karlach wants the goss but won't pry

Gale is the player character, shared backstory Player: Wandering the wilds of Faerûn searching for a cure to the orb. If I lived that long... Karlach: Living a normal lifespan is so yesterday. Believe me.

—

Gale: Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when you're in charge of the menu. devnote: Dark humour - your friend achieved her goal, but you know she'll not live long enough to celebrate

—

Gale: Ceremorphosis is Karlach's only chance of survival. It must be her. devnote: Impressed, finding this all very interesting

Gale: No sense dawdling. Karlach has precious little time left to her - we'd do better than to waste

Gale: I've not seen infernal flames like that in quite some time. Why go to Avernus, when you can bring Avernus to us? devnote: Curious/pondering - a rhetorical question, no response from player

—

Gale: I know well the pain of seeing your life's hourglass running empty, grasping at any means of slowing the grains as they slip inexorably through your fingers. devnote: Sincere, a note of pity - Gale once thought he was fated to die because of the orb, so her truly understands what she's going through Gale: Your fate may be ordained, but your actions are not. Make each breath count, and what time you have with us will never be wasted.

Gale: Karlach's fate may be ordained, but her actions are not. She will make each breath count - we can be sure of that devnote: Finding solace in the thought

—

Ilithid transformation

Player: It's okay, Gale. Karlach wants to transform. She'll do it, for herself and for us. Gale: Then I will hold my peace. But if the time comes when even her sacrifice is not enough, call on me, and I will be ready.

Gale thinks that becoming a mind flayer is his best chance at getting the Crown

Gale: I know Karlach has the best intentions, but her kind heart is not going to help me get that crown. Let me do this.

About Gale, Mystra, Elminster, etc

The dialogue lines for this section can be found in the file /Dialogs 2/Companions/Karlach_InParty_Nested_TopicalGreetings.html

—

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing what Elminster said to Gale. Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: Hey! Maybe I'm invited too. I can be the muscle.

(variation)

Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing. So Mystra wants to talk, does she? Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: ...can I come?

—

Karlach learns about Mystra's message

Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all.

Player: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. devnote: Being cheeky

Player: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms.

—

Meeting Elminster Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad?

(variation, if the player is Gale)

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad?

—

Gale is the Player, talks about Elminster's message from Mystra

Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Player: Yes it was. Good old Grandfather Dekarios, come to check in on his doting grandson. Karlach: Lovely! You should've introduced him around. Elders love me, and I love them. Player: I'm joking, Karlach. That was Elminster Aumar, the Sage of Shadowdale, one of the greatest wizards to ever live? Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: It relates to a 'condition' I have. I carry an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. It seems Mystra wants me to detonate that orb and destroy the 'Heart of the Absolute.'

Player: He brought instructions from Mystra. I'm to find the Heart of the Absolute, and destroy it by detonating the orb in my chest. Karlach: The orb in your chest? Shit - I knew something was going on with you, but I didn't know the particulars. Karlach: Well. Turns out we have more in common than I knew. Except I'm trying not to blow up, and you've been instructed to do just that.

Karlach: Wow. That's... that's big, Gale. This is Mystra we're talking about. Goddess of magic - and she's asking you to sacrifice yourself. Karlach: What are you thinking? devnote: As in, 'What are your thoughts about this serious revelation?' Player: This could be my chance at redemption. I have to at least consider dong what she asked. Karlach: Only you can decide if that's really true. If you owe her your life. As for me, I'm positive we can stop the Absolute without losing you, Gale. Karlach: Keep that in mind, all right?

Player: I'm not quite sure yet. It's a big decision. Karlach: No kidding. What could be bigger? Look, I know what it's like to house something dangerous inside you. But I don't know what it's like for someone else - someone I trust - to ask me to use it against myself. Karlach: If you need a friend, you know where to find me. Right here. Right now.

Player: Now that I'm over the shock, I'll probably ignore her request entirely. Karlach: I'm glad to hear you say that. It is shocking. Imagine asking someone to - to end themselves like that. Karlach: Nothing's ever simple anymore, is it? Whatever you decide, I've got your back. But I think we can defeat the Absolute without losing you, Gale.

Player: That remains to be seen. Karlach: Oh? What did he say? Player: I'd rather not talk about it right now. It's a lot to process. Karlach: All right, soldier. But look, if you're in a fix that can be solved by fire or fists, just point me in the right direction. I mean it.

Player: Elminster's no ordinary elder. He's the most renowned wizard in the realms. Karlach: Your grandfather is the most famous wizard in the realms? Karlach: I should've guessed. I mean, you're pretty powerful. Makes sense that it's in your blood. Player: No, Karlach - I was joking before. Elminster isn't my grandfather. But he did tell me something quite serious. Karlach: I'm listening. What did he say?

Karlach: Wonder if he's (Elminster) a wizard too. He's certainly got the beardliness for it

Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

—

Karlach: Wow. 'Chosen of Mystra.' I guess I should congratulate Gale. Right? devnote: Karlach is happy for Gale. Suspicious of Mystra but trying to be supportive. Karlach: I trust him to know what he's doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. I just hope he knows he doesn't need her favour to be fucking fantastic.

(variation, if partnered with Karlach)

Karlach: Wow, Gale. 'Chosen of Mystra.' Congratulations, I think? Karlach: I trust you to know what you're doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. Just know that even without her - even without any of the gods - you're still pretty fantastic. Karlach: 'Chosen of Karlach' has a ring to it, right?

—

Karlach: Whoa. I've seen a lot, but never been threatened by a god. Karlach: It sounded like Gale really meant it. He really wants to take control of the Karsite Weave. Karlach: He really wants to be a god. devnote: She's not bought in. She's assessing Gale here. Measuring him.

(variation)

Karlach: Interesting. devnote: Suspicious

If Gale is the player character

Karlach: Interesting. I'll keep that in mind. devnote: She's starting to lack trust in Gale here

—

Gale is noncommital about returning the crown

Karlach: Wow, Gale. So you spoke to Mystra, right? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But I think you were right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies. Karlach: Proud of you, though. It takes some man to hold his own in front of the divine.

Karlach: Wow. So Gale really talked to Mystra, huh? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But he's right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies.

—

Gale is blessed by Mystra Karlach: You're glowing, Gale. Mystra must be very pleased with you indeed. Don't forget us little people when you're the Chosen of the God of Magic, hm?

Karlach: Gale looks chuffed as cheese. Mystra must be very pleased with him. Let's hope she's got his best interests in mind.

—

Gale agrees to return the Crown to Mystra

Karlach: Wow. Gale is the 'Chosen of Mystra'. Congrats to him, I think? Karlach: Hope he knows what he's doing. We haven't fared very well with other Chosens so far.

—

Gale uses Shadow Weave

Karlach: Hope you know what you're doing, Gale. I'm no paladin for Mystra, but she probably has good reasons for forbidding Shadow Weave.

Karlach: Gale's walking a thin line. Let's hope he doesn't fall headfirst over it - again.

—

Orin kidnaps Gale Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back. devnote: Seething

—

Gale is resurrected Karlach: This fella Gale has as many lives as a cat. Handy guy to have around, huh?

—

Karlach: You all right, Gale? Looking a little shadowy about the gills.

(variation)

Karlach: Is Gale all right? He's looking a little shadowy about the gills.

—

Items and Netherese orb comments

Karlach: Wide berth, buddy. I have some good equipment I don't want you swallowing.

Karlach: The people you meet, I swear... devnote: A little bemused

Karlach: Much as I commiserate with your, you know, thingie. devnote: 'tough ticks' is a karlachism

Karlach: I like Gale, but I'm keeping all my good gear well out of sight. Karlach: Everything fancy he touches meets a grisly end. Karlach: I commiserate with his situation, though. It's tough ticks housing something you can't control.

Gale is the player character

Karlach: Hey now, what happened to that fancy bit of gear? Player: It's a long story involving the Weave, an ancient tome, and a failed attempt to please Mystra, goddess of magic. Karlach: Hm. And now you have to consume gear Karlach really wants because... Player: Because I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city. Karlach: Well, shit. And I thought I had it bad. Karlach: That's a tough hand, Gale. But I'm glad you told me. A chest-bomb shared is a chest-bomb halved, or whatever. Karlach: If I spot anything that'll help, I'll hand it right over, pal. We're in this together.

Player: Because if I didn't, I'd be dangerous to all of us. Karlach: Are we talking some kind of were-wizard situation here, or...? Player: I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city.

Player: Just because. Karlach: Wizards and their secrets. Buddy, I could ruin that mind of yours with the stories I could tell. Nothing you say could scare me. When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen.

Player: I had to consume it. Sorry if that scuppered any plans you had for it. Karlach: I'd mind less if I knew the full story. Never seen a fellow suck the magic-marrow out of an item before.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #karlach #karlach cliffgate #character dialogue #bg3 dialogue #banter #bg3 gale #bg3 karlach

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fipindustries · 5 months

Text

bojack horse bad again

you know, i was thinking back to this show again, i watched three seasons of it and that was all that i could tomach and you know what? no.

i dont accept it

i dont care, it was a bad show, it was an objectively bad show and i dont accept that everyone else decided that it was good, i dont care, it was a bad show and im going to tell you why.

emotional terrorism

maybe im a simpleton but i am someone who cares quite a lot about catharsis in my stories. this show refused to grant that, adamantly and violently. im not saying i need a happy ending, i am more than capable of enjoying bittersweet or even tragic stories, but i need a sense of completeness, some satisfaction, some release, some sense that things matter or meant something. this show insisted on refusing to give that. all this show was interested in was get an emotional reaction out of you. it was the emotional equivalent of a jump scare. it was convinced that if it made you feel bad enough people would confuse that with beeing powerful and deep. you could get the same reaction by walking up to someone on the street and kicking them in the nuts. and it would take about as much subtlety or artistry.

2. writer led rather than animator led

you could tell this was one of those shows that were made on the writer's room, not by storyboarders or artists, by "comedians". by people with english degrees. so many scenes of characters just standing around and talking. so many "jokes" that were clearly meant to be funny as something you read on a piece of paper or on a tweet and chuckle as you read it but as animation it just gave limp, stagnant scenes. so much dialog that were references and quips and puns and fast witticisms of the type you come up in the shower when thinking of clever comebacks.

there were so many fucking scenes where everything would stop and a character would launch on some stupid profound monologue about life and philosophy and psychology and relationships. it was like the writers were trying on for size paragraphs of their future memoirs or self help books. so much dialog that was begging for an award for writing. so many "mic drop" moments that were designed to be quoted. i find that the best writing is not the one that you can just quote out of context as a cool pithy phrase. a lot of the best writing ive seen in my life is meaningless when devoid of context, is inextricable of the scene and indeed of the entire story surrounding it but in here i can almost see the seams where the writers look at the camera waiting to see if you are impressed

3. inconsistent tone

this show wanted to eat its cake and then still have it. there are stories that manage to deftly weave in and out of comedic moments into serious moments. everything everywhere all at once does an amazing job jumping from the stupidest, most childish jokes into the most profound commentary about human nature, sometimes doing both at the same time and it worked, one didint cheapen the other.

in here though, it wanted to both have a completly absurd world with the stupidest characters ever and then somehow make us care for it all as if the show hadnt shot itself in the foot. it wanted us to see caroline being in love with what is clearly three children in a trenchcoat and then take her seriously as an adult, to treat any forther relationship drama she has as if it werent completly farcical.

4. ugly animation

it continued the blight that is take over adult animation by doing that disgusting repugnant paper puppet rigged interpolated quasi flash animation that only gives you stiff poses and movements and incredibly boring shots of characters standing in 3/4 perspective in front of the camera. it dull and flat and clunky and ugly, and the character designs were ugly. the noses were ugly and the mouths were ugly and the hairs were ugly and the eyes were ugly. it was all ugly. the backgrounds were fucking ugly and the colors were ugly and it was an ugly show to look at. unbearably so. and even the obligatory "weird" stylized scenes put in to shake things off and try to pretend that it was visually interesting (for like one scene per season) were also fucking ugly.

5. it had not interesting point to make

all it could do was insist and belavor and extemporize about how this one guy sucks and also most people kind of suck but specifically this one guy really sucks and he is not going to get better, or maybe he will? eh maybe, but not really, because he sucks. and we are going to make you like him because we are the writers and we are going to make him relatable and charismatic and sympathetic but actually no he sucks, you fell for it! and what does it say about you that you almost kind of liked him eh????. season after season of him, and in case you almost found anything redeemable about him, we are going to make him even worse, painfully unsubtly so, we are going to make him look at the camera and say that he sucks, because that is the level of nuance we think you can handle, dear viewer. this is called "self aware writing" and its postmodern and meta, which means its clever.

i fucking hate this show and the more i think about it the angrier it makes me, and what makes me more angriest of all is that people like it. its popular. it won awards i think. its largely recognized as a good show and its not! it sucks and its bad and if you like it you are stupid.

#bojack horseman #i made myself really angry thinking about this show #not that i need a lot to get angry as of lately

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mumms-the-word · 6 months

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Shadow Curse Events Pt. 1

Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin

I’ve played through the game a few times at this point and I always find myself struggling to understand the timeline or at least order of events that occurred with the Shadow Curse. I know some things conflict because there was one version of the story in Early Access (the version where Halsin accidentally killed Isobel) and it was heavily altered for the final version of the game, and some things just got *gestures vaguely* waved away, but I keep wanting to make sense of it anyway.

So that’s what this post (edit: I mean series) is going to do. After the cut, obviously. Long deep dive post ahead! Picture of a tired Ketheric for attention and because same bro c':

TLDR: These events happen either in the 1370s or the 1390s. Ketheric loses Melodia (his wife) and Isobel (his daughter) and turns to Shar. He captures Aylin, then builds a Big Dark Justiciar Army, training them and forcing them to kill Aylin over and over. Meanwhile, a Selûnite resistance is brewing in the town, and it's kind of making everything worse. One Selûnite rebel even goes so far as to make a deal with a devil. And all of that is BEFORE the Harpers and druids arrive as an army.

We don’t have dates, unfortunately, aside from knowing that the shadow curse itself was unleashed about a century ago, so “timeline” would be a loose term to use if/when I use it. But I have two theories about when it happened.

One theory is that because the Spellplague was happening between 1385-1395 DR (during which there was neither a true Weave nor a Shadow Weave, which is what the shadow curse is made of), the shadow curse likely started around 1396-1399, just shy of a full 100 years before the game’s events in 1492. But that’s just me conjecturing based on the idea that if the Shadow Weave is gone…how does the shadow curse stick around?

The other theory is that the shadow curse was unleashed sometime between 1371 and 1374. This is because a) Dark Justiciars were still being sent by Ketheric Thorm to destroy Moonhaven (the Blighted Village) in 1371 (Ketheric writes a letter about attacking Moonhave and a journal dated 1371 boasts that Ilyn Toth, the basement apothecary-necromancer dude, got killed by Dark Justiciars) and b) because Khelben Arunsun himself, the literal Blackstaff (super powerful and very old wizard), wrote a letter negotiating surrender on behalf of the Harpers.

We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies.

Wiki says Khelben broke his alliance with the Harpers in 1370 due to some disagreements, but it’s possible his splinter faction was at the battlefield with the other Harpers. I doubt he was there personally, but who knows. I wouldn’t go any earlier than 1371, though, because Baldur’s Gate II happens in 1369, and Jaheira would have been too busy dealing with those events to deal with Ketheric too. But it can’t be later than 1374, because Khelben Arunsun dies in 1374.

(I have questions about how the shadow curse survived the Spellplague and the loss of the Shadow Weave, but the answer to that could simply be All Magic Was Weird and Unstable at the time…plus Thaniel was already in the Shadowfell by this time, so the land couldn't heal.)

So it’s either 1371-1374 (because of the Khelben timeline, and I guess the Spellplague didn’t affect it) or it’s 1396-1399 (because of the Spellplague, but the writers just forgot Khelben was dead by that point, or maybe his ghost wrote the surrender notice idk). Both are good enough for Halsin and Jaheira to talk about things happening “a century ago,” but you can see why I’m avoiding dates.

But let’s push it back a few more decades. Back when Ketheric was a Selûnite and Isobel a very small child.

As we’re probably all well aware, during this time, Ketheric worships Selûne along with his wife, Melodia. At some point, he even commissions the local Mason’s Guild to build Moonrise as a testament to Selûne herself, according to Morfred the mason (who you can talk to in House of Hope, it’s pretty cool). Ketheric and Melodia have Isobel, but then Melodia dies while Isobel is still pretty young. Ketheric remains a Selûnite, mostly for Isobel’s sake, until she dies too.

Ketheric: I’ll tell you a story, True Soul. About a man who sold himself piece by piece. He had…everything. A wonderful wife. A brilliant daughter. They lived not far from here. His wife died too young. Grief tore through their home like a thief, snatching away the scent of her hair, the rustle of her skirts. But the man did not break. He could not break. His daughter needed him whole, after all. She grew up—grew strong. Challenged him. Filled his heart with such joy it supplanted all sorrow. When she was killed, the man…he tried to remain whole, but it wasn’t possible. Do you understand? Player: So the man fell to pieces. Ketheric: The pain was unbearable. All-consuming. He decided he’d do anything for reprieve. First, he sold himself to the goddess of loss. But the pain did not subside, no matter his obscene feats of devotion. Then a new god came—a god who promised the man something wonderful: his daughter. Her life returned. Imagine it. He would have to give everything: his body and soul entire. He did not hesitate. Not for a moment.

We know this story. Ketheric turns to Shar and everything goes Very, Very Badly. But the exact details/order of Ketheric's Sharran days are a little hazy. So here's what I've been able to piece together to sate my own curiosity.

While Ketheric is still a faithful (but waning) Selûnite, Dame Aylin visits as an emissary of Selûne. Moonrise/Reithwin is a Selûnite refuge and the Thorms are allegedly devout favorites of the moon goddess, so it's a big deal. While she's there, she and Isobel fall in love. Ketheric disapproves, in part because Aylin is immortal and Isobel is not (Isobel and Aylin both say this in dialogue).

Plus, and this is a personal opinion, I think Ketheric might have seen Aylin's interest in Isobel as another thing Selûne was trying to take from him. It isn't enough that Selûne let Melodia die, now her daughter is trying to woo his daughter and take her too.

But then Isobel dies. Somehow. The launch version of the game isn’t clear how. Aylin mourns but Ketheric spirals. He turns to Shar, hoping she will force him to forget about Isobel, but he doesn't. Nevertheless, he becomes a zealous Sharran.

[A journal spanning years, beginning with the birth of a child and ending with what appears to be a series of dateless tragedies.] How can she be gone? Where did she go? The Moonmaiden cannot be so unfeeling - so cruel. Not toward her most devoted servant. Not after Melodia. It makes no sense. It makes no sense. I won't survive it. That much I know. Forgetting is the only possibility. The embrace of oblivion. The reprieve of nothingness. It would not be possible for a man to survive knowing what he knows. Knowing what can be lost. Shar understands that. Hers is the only mercy I can comprehend. My mind is full of holes - yet not enough. The emptiness. The time. The nothingness. And still I remember. Still I remember it all. There is no mercy in this beating heart. There is no mercy in life at all.

He builds the Gauntlet of Shar (or maybe renovates and Shar-ifies it, maybe it was already there) beneath the Thorm mausoleum, connecting it to the much more ancient Grymforge area. Grymforge becomes a kind of base or stronghold for the Justiciar army while the Gauntlet is designed to test their mettle and prepare them for the task that will make them official Dark Justiciars—killing Aylin, though it's not clear when Ketheric and Balthazar lure her into the Shadowfell.

I'll get back to that later.

We know that Grymforge was used as a Dark Justiciar stronghold and possible training ground because of all the Sharran stuff we find there. It's like super obvious. The feasthall room, the dormitories, the weapons that lay everywhere. There's basically a whole Sharran city in the Underdark beneath and near Reithwin, some of which we can see from various points in Grymforge. In fact, if you go through the poisoned room where Nere is, you can see the Gauntlet down below.

(It's a little hard to see here 'cause I play on console but there's a glimpse of the giant Shar statue that takes up a ton of space in the Gauntlet. Somehow, the two places used to connect.)

Ketheric's new Sharran teachings are ruthless and vicious. He encourages his Dark Justiciars to kill a Selûnite once a tenday or more as part of their training and service to the Lady of Loss.

The Law of Nightfall: From the moon falls the foulest of lights. iIt peeks through cracks and fissures, illuminating the most remote recesses of the Underdark. Light bestows hope, a pernicious notion which must be extinguished. At the darkest hour, pray to your Lady and feast in Her honour. The second day after, slay a disciple of Selûne. If none may be found, a Lathanderian or Mystran are an acceptable offering. Do this once a tenday, and the Lady of Loss shall know you.

Reithwin and the surrounding village soon become a hunting ground. Most people convert. Those who don't get hung in the square as examples (according to a shadow memory). All faithful Selûnites are forced to practice their devotion to the Moonmaiden in secret, led by Morfred the mason and his brother Halfred the innkeeper of Last Light Inn. Halfred hides Selûnite relics beneath Last Light (you can still find them) while Morfred plots a true resistance.

[Hidden amidst columns detailing the income and expenditure of a tavern is an aside, written in tiny, urgent handwriting.] I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm.

But as time goes on, Morfred grows increasingly distressed with the events happening in Reithwin and the ease with which people are eager to switch faiths.

- How quickly things change. The Thorms are Selûnite through and through - or so I believed. Perhaps Ketheric only converted for Melodia, and with her death - and then his daughter's - his faith died too. But to turn to Shar? It beggars belief. - Ketheric's Justiciars are growing greater in number, and more determined to rout out any traces of Selûne in Reithwin. Why do they think this town was built? One cannot rip out the foundations of a building and expect it to remain standing. - Brother and I remain the last two bastions of Our Lady of Silver in the town. A few - the trusting few - come to worship in secret by moonlit nights. Others - converts, all. Whether they truly believe, I cannot say. Impossible, isn't it?

(Don't worry, the second page is further down lol spoilers!)

Life is not going well in Reithwin, even if you're not a Selûnite. Ketheric is determined to destroy all traces of Selûne and treason of any kind. His Dark Justiciars begin tormenting citizens to reveal pockets of Selûnite resistance. He also suffers no treasonous word against him, even if the citizens in question aren't Selûnite. We see a glimpse of this and of the Justiciars' cruel influence during the questline with He Who Was and Madeline, who ratted out her friends' innocent(?) complaints about Ketheric to some Justiciars, resulting in their brutal deaths.

Eventually Morfred realizes that the Dark Justiciars are too powerful to resist and turns to Raphael, offering his soul in exchange for something to destroy the Dark Justiciar army.

- Sick of standing idle while Justiciars gain power in our humble town. What will become of us if we allow it? I met a man who was no man. Touched by a devil. Or maybe worse. But he offered me something I couldn't refuse - help. - The time is now. Ketheric's Justiciars, their stronghold in the temple below - they will be wiped out. All of them. I didn't ask how. I just want them gone. Let the Harpers have at Ketheric now. They'll make short work of him.

You can ask Morfred about this in the House of Hope, actually, where he confirms the details. I mean, he's in Raphael's house, so it's pretty obvious the he did, in fact, make a deal with him.

Infernal Mason: When tragedy came, my master fell into darkness and despair. He marshalled a great army to ruin the world and bring all into shadow. I could not let it happen. I sought out the devil Raphael and signed an infernal pact with him. He promised to destroy my master’s army, and I promised him my soul in return. The devil was true to his word. Fiends slaughtered my master’s forces, but he endured somehow, and blighted the land.

The Fiend in question here is Yurgir, who ends up crashing through Grymforge and the Gauntlet to kill all Dark Justiciars in his path. (He misses one, because Raphael is a sneaky bastard who let one get away by turning him into a swarm of rats, but I digress.) We know Yurgir caused the destruction in Grymforge, too, because of the Merregon masks and hellbeasts we find around the area, and the fact that if you pass all the checks with the Duergar mason examining the stone, he helps you piece together this narrative:

Stonemason Kith: An ancient city, hewn from the stone by the disciples of Shar, later abandoned. Untold centuries later, a new tribe revives it. Fresh walls, fresh sculptures...until a great hellbeast charges through, toppling the walls and crushing the people! Heh - that explains the infernal plate I found. Perhaps you might have use of it.

Further proof that Grymforge and the Gauntlet were once connected...somehow.

Anyway, by the time Yurgir is called in, Morfred's already been found out. Thisobald overhears him drunkenly complaining about Ketheric in the Waning Moon and informs Ketheric of his treachery. Ketheric orders a raid on the mason's guild, leaving Halfred the lone source of Selûnite resistance. It's unknown what becomes of Halfred, but considering the fact that the inn was still taking guests (like Art Cullagh) and housing the Harpers right before the shadow curse descended (there's a shadow memory of a Harper toasting his comrades in Last Light right before the battle with Ketheric long ago), it's likely he's a victim of the curse and not Justiciar brutality.

I’m not sure which is worse, honestly.

It's unclear when Morfred dies, though he admits to witnessing the first part of the shadow curse (i.e., "...but he endured somehow, and blighted the land"). But Morfred's deal coincides in some ways with the arrival of the Harpers and druids. I think he probably makes the deal with Raphael before the Harpers officially march against Ketheric and then gets caught after he hears rumors of the Harpers.

Raphael makes good on his deal around the same the Harpers arrive, perhaps a little afterward. This means Yurgir's slaughter of Justiciars in the Underdark must happen concurrently with the battle happening topside between Ketheric's army and the Harpers/druids, meaning Ketheric is losing his army on two fronts at the same time. Victory seems assured for the Harpers and druids, but of course we know now that Ketheric had a way of cheating death already in place.

He had already imprisoned the Nightsong in a Shadowfell soul cage.

Again, we’re not sure exactly when this happens, but it’s after Isobel dies and before the shadow curse, which unleashes with Ketheric’s supposed death in the battle against the Harpers and druids. However, Aylin herself says that Ketheric and Balthazar lured her into the Shadowfell under the pretense of saving an innocent.

Dame Aylin: He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind. I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while.

This makes me think that Aylin wasn’t aware of Ketheric’s conversion yet, so it must have been very soon after, because otherwise, why would she trust a known Sharran telling her to enter the Shadowfell, the realm that is entirely under Shar’s control? I also suspect Ketheric built (or renovated) the Gauntlet around Aylin after her capture, perhaps at the behest of Shar due to their collaboration in making up new Justiciar teachings, or perhaps out of a sick, vengeful desire to see Aylin tormented for daring to love his daughter.

If this is true, then there’s a very real chance that Ketheric was unkillable before he truly started to torment Reithwin town, and well before the Harpers stepped in to take him down.

Anyway we at least know that Ketheric trapped Aylin in the Shadowfell before the big battle against the Harpers because a) both Isobel and Aylin talk about her being there for a century and b) because Ketheric is already using her invulnerability to survive assassination attempts on his life prior to or during the actual battle against him and his army:

23 Elient The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.

This brings us to the eve of the battle itself. But this post is already hella long, so keep an eye out for part 2, all about the Harper and druid battle against Ketheric!

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heartfullofleeches · 9 months

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Yan Husband + G.N Monster Reader

A Slightly Fluffy/Slightly Suggestive Holiday Blurb

What do you get someone who has everything?

"You're asking me what I want for Christmas? Why would I want anything else when I already have everything I need? A nice house, a loving spouse. I'd say I'm set for life- so why don't you tell me what you'd like this year, Sweetheart."

He's so difficult sometimes- Your dear husband had always made sure the holiday season was special for you. Even as a college student with little to his name, he wanted you to experience the same magic he witnessed as a child when his parents were forced to play the part of attentive caretakers. Presents, festive activities, decorating the house. As you've never had the pleasure of these traditions due to your origins your husband made it his duty to give you everything and more- well, except for one thing.

You wanted to be the one to go all out for him for once. To see the joy and happiness in his eyes when he unwraps the perfect present that you picked out yourself. You've tried asking him. You've tried watching him to learn more about the little things he enjoys, but it's all you. All he wants for Christmas is your life. He enjoys cooking and gardening because they're things that keep you happy and cared for.

His entire life revolved around you - and as such, the answer to your blight has been in your lap the entire time.

Your husband arrives home an hour early. You expected him to get off a little early due to the holiday, but what you hadn't guessed was that he'd bring guests. Springing up from your sprawled out position on the couch, you rush to the front door - grabbing and hastily tossing on a coat as the choir of voices and the jostling of keys grows closer. Securing the belt strap around your waist and a scarf around your neck, you wait for the click out of outside lock and a knock on the frame before sliding back the bolt on your side of the door. Your husband lights up like a christmas tree seeing you standing there - the soft flush of his pale cheeks accented by the warm flow of the lights strung around your shared home.

Evan steps through the door, excitement dripping from his every move as he throws his arms at your waist. "You're already dressed. I meant to call you, but I left my phone back at the office."

Glancing over his shoulder, you hug your coat tighter to your chest - cold winds nawing at the thick layers of your flesh. "Evan...Who are they?"

Evan looks back at his colleagues. He told them to stay in their cars, but what goes in on ear goes right out the other. Are they scaring you? "A few friends from work. There's a party at the office I completely forgot about today and they followed me since I've already had a couple glasses. I thought it might be a good way for you to get to know some of them.

You shift uncomfortably under their gaze. "Evan, can I talk to you privately."

"Of course." Evan shuts the front door behind him without even addressing his coworkers. Your safety was more important. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing... I was just wondering if we should stay home tonight... I have a gift I wanted to give you early."

The worry drains from his face. "Oh, hun- you didn't have to go through all that trouble for me. I've told you before that you're the greatest gift I could ever ask for. We can open it when we get home.

"Are you sure you don't want a peak now?"

His brows scrunch up in confusion. Cupping your hand against his ear, you untie your belt - letting the loose fitting coat fall freely. Even at your height the coat was a little big on you as it had been commissioned by your sweet husband as a present a few years back. The flush of his cheeks reaches all the way to his ears as you whisper.

"You've always say I'm the best gift you have ever received."

Hands tear the coat further from your shoulders. Evan looks from your face, to the ribbons wrapped around your thighs and torso, laced across your body with a finished bow sitting center on your chest. It was fitted tastefully enough to cover your assets, but with tiny imperfections between the layers of ribbon and its transparency if he tilted his head just right-

Evan presses his palm to his mouth to mask the shaky breath he exhales.

"Well?"

"Excuse me for one moment."

Evan covers you back up with a kiss to your shoulder. You press your ear to the front door as he steps back outside.

"I'm really sorry, guys. My spouse came down with something while I was out. They're extremely sick right now. You might not even hear from us till the new years. Enjoy the party!"

As cautious as he is, you've never seen your husband neglect to lock the upper locks on the front door as he did when he returned to your side. Evan sweeps you off your feet with little effort thanks to all the training he'd done for that express reason. Hooking your arms around him as he carries you to bed - you plant wet kisses to the already scarred areas of his neck and cheek.

"Do you like your present?"

Evan kisses your jaw. "None can compare...... but maybe you should ask again once I get this ribbon off.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere husband #Evan my oc #yandere fluff #monster reader

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felassan · 3 months

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Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕

Rogue Rook. I love this Rook, I wonder if they could be the 'default'-kinda Rook..? The detail in this game is incredible, look at the different textures and intricate patterns on clothes (in places you can even see where it's raised/three-dimensional when appropriate), carved designs on the wood of the bow, the textures on hairs, the folds of fabric and the way it hangs, the strung bow, light glinting off Taash's jewel-horn and gold pieces, etc. loads of care put into it and attention to detail. on Rook's chest is the Veilguard symbol. Taash and Neve look amazing too, and the team is ready to go! In the bottom right, is that a chest we can loot? ^^ Maybe this moment is from shortly after entering a new area, and the camera is about to transition from a cutscene kinda scene to a gameplay scene? like they've just gotten here, had a lil conversation about it, and are about to head off exploring. where do you think this shot was taken? it kind of reminds me a bit of this concept art of the Deep Roads.

I really like the decision to prominently feature Bellara and Davrin on this cover. Bellara's magic device is activated - are the triangles being drawn towards her, or are they flying out away from her? ^^ its green glow makes me think of Fadey stuff. Harding looks to have the same bow as here, with the Inquisition hairy eyeball symbol, fitting for a Hero of the Inquisition. in the background is the familiar outwards energy burst motif (example one on the right, example two). the rest of the team are present in the foreground, ready to cast or running towards the battle. the ground, dark rock, is aflame. in the background we can see telltale floating rocks and some structures. maybe this shot is 'set' in the same place as the group fight that takes place at the end of the character trailer, as here?

In this version of the image, we can more clearly see tentacle-like objects in the bottom right, which make me think of Blight corruption and what we can see around the dragon here. the other thing I wanna say about this art is you can tell care has been taken to differentiate the companions and make them unique. like both Emmrich and Neve are mages and casting, but they hold their weapons in different ways and have different stances. Emmrich's staff is green with the light of necromancy, Neve's is blue with ice magic. both Taash and Lucanis are fighters, and running, but even from a static image you can see variation in the way that they move. You can almost hear Taash's powerful 'stomp-stomp-stomp' whereas Lucanis has more of a sense of speed and streamlined motion. it reminds me of what was said in the Discord Q&A about "characterful"-ness:

This game contains “the deepest companion arcs” that they have ever done - not just in a Dragon Age game, but in a BioWare game in general. “Being able to work across all the disciplines, building characters who look and sound and behave in very specific and characterful ways.” Each companion has their own story arc you can go through, decisions you can make. “They really do take center stage. As you play through them, you see the care and love that the team has put into each one.” [link]

You know, like they are looking and moving different in very specific and "characterful" ways. Also look at this -

This looks to be Lucanis in early concept art (art by Matt Rhodes). he moves in such a specific, 'characterful' way, and it's carried through from the concept art.

my last thought here is that this cover reminded me of the group/team fight scene in this Inquisition trailer. you know, like the whole gang is here and ready to go, ground aflame, black rock, Fadey stuff going on.

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost

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mikavlcs · 1 year

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Whispers in the Dark

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: After a harrowing nightmare, Wednesday tries her best to bring you comfort.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday...you have been warned

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: @vorsdany and i did a matching prompts challenge, so make sure to go read hers as well -> Take Me Home

(also if you think that this is just a worse iteration of this story by tumblr user missmonsters2, you are absolutely correct! go read hers as well<3)

Masterlist

Wednesday Addams adored nightmares.

There was nothing quite like the rush of adrenaline she got when she escaped from the clutches of a particularly dreadful nightmare.

The way the terror could persist for hours after, leaving behind a lingering sense of dread that heightened the senses, was addictive. As far as Wednesday was concerned, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

The flashes of technicolor terror and monochromatic mania quickly became her favorite part of the day. The perfect precursor to the torture she would have to endure when she woke up and was forced to interact with her fellow classmates.

But this, unfortunately, was not a very widely held opinion. For most, night terrors were a blight, not a blessing.

And she was so graciously reminded of this when Thing came tumbling in from the balcony, movements more frantic than she’d ever seen before. It was odd, she thought, given both the late hour and the fact that he was supposed to be staying with you for the night, but she still didn’t spare him a glance.

If he had a problem, he could consult her after her writing hour. Enid was off having a sleepover at Yoko’s, and she was intent on taking advantage of the rare quiet in her dorm.

However, Thing wasn’t one to be deterred. When he failed to get her attention, he jumped onto her typewriter, smashing a bunch of keys beneath his fingers and effectively ruining the page she was working on in the process.

Wednesday blinked, then twice, brows raising in surprise. Her fingers curled into fists, jaw clenching against the rush of anger that coursed through her. Slowly, she bit out a low, murderous, “Thing—"

But her biting tone had no effect on the hand. He interrupted her once more, tapping out the same message over and over.

She surged forward, intent on grabbing the hand and locking him in her drawer for the next week, but then she started paying attention to what he was saying, the message he was trying so hard to convey.

And once she properly received it, she was out of her chair in an instant, her ruined page already forgotten.

Wednesday moved through the maze of corridors like a shadow, footsteps swift and silent to avoid the attention of any roaming teachers. Whether Thing was following or even able to keep pace with her was irrelevant to her, his message was the only thing on her mind.

Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.

It played on an incessant loop, making her heart pound against her chest with a vitality that threatened to break the surrounding ribs under its weight.

That vitality made her quicken her pace. When your dorm finally came into view, she slammed the door open with an urgency she would later consider humiliating.

Moonlight cascaded in through the window, cutting through the murky darkness of the night and providing Wednesday with just enough light to see the barest hint of her surroundings.

Dark eyes scanned the room for any immediate threats and when it became clear that there were no attackers or monsters lurking in the shadows, she took a breath and began to properly survey her surroundings.

Her gaze first caught on your desk, the stacks of books and papers neatly resting on top of it. Then your bed, unkempt and noticeably empty despite the early hour. And finally, she saw you, your normally vibrant form reduced to a shaking silhouette curled up beneath your window.

Wednesday took to languages very easily and the language your body spoke was no exception. Within months, Wednesday was able to read you with the same ease she did her favorite novels, spines slightly worn from use and pages annotated to absolute perfection.

So the calligraphy tucked in the tight furrow between your brows, the letters the light tremble in your shoulders scrawled, and the words the bags beneath your eyes printed for her were deciphered in moments.

And it all came together to definitively prove the hypothesis that began forming the moment she stepped foot into your dorm.

You had a nightmare.

This wasn’t the first time. Since that night when the school nearly burned down, it seemed to happen a lot. The incident had a firm grip on you, and it showed no signs of lessening, but it didn’t deter Wednesday any.

Because even now in the darkness, hugged tightly in the grasp of fear, you were luminescent.

Approaching slowly, she kneeled before you, caught your wide, teary eyes. Behind her, she heard the door shut softly, signifying Thing’s arrival, but she kept her attention solely on you.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

The question itself was a gamble. Many nights you would just shake your head and suffer in silence, leaving Wednesday to just be there with you and hope her presence brought forth some form of comfort. But it seemed tonight she got lucky.

“It was about the Hyde—Tyler. He…he ripped you apart, and I—” You choked on a sob, bringing both hands up to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I just watched.”

She hummed lightly. Unsure of what to say, she lamented, “Sounds frightful. I wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

A wet laugh reached her ears, causing an effective stutter in the steady beat of her heart. Your hands were brought back to your knees, but you were still crying, still held firmly in the clasp of your dream.

And despite her inherent discomfort, Wednesday wouldn’t stand for that.

Things like comfort and physical affection were your forte, not hers. But you were there for her in her darkest hour, unwavering during her torturously vulnerable time just after the defeat of Crackstone that she shuddered to think about even now.

When the weight of everything finally crashed down on her and threatened to shatter her into a million pieces, you were there to hold her together in soft but steady arms. So she would do the same for you.

Hesitant hands cupped your cheeks and rough thumbs wiped your tears in uncertain yet gentle strokes.

“Tell me what I can do for you,” she urged, attentive eyes looking for any legible signs to interpret.

“Just stay,” you whispered. “Please.”

She nodded. She was already wearing her sleepwear, so a change of clothes was unnecessary. The only thing left unattended was…

“Thing, go back to my dorm and throw the paper in my typewriter carriage out. I will rewrite it entirely tomorrow.”

Your face fell at her instruction, and Wednesday could read the lines of guilt clear as day in the fall of your shoulders and dip of your brow.

“If I’m interrupting your writing—"

“You’re not,” she injected sternly, moving one hand to grip your shoulder. “You asked me to stay, so you’re stuck with my torturous presence for the rest of the night. Whether you like it or not.”

The beginnings of a smile played on the edges of your lips, but before you could respond, Thing scurried up to your side and gave you an inquiring tap.

“Hey, buddy. Sorry, I ruined our sleepover. I’ll make it up to you I promise.” You extended a pinky down in his direction, which he promptly wrapped his own around. A pinky promise, if Wednesday wasn’t mistaken.

Usually, she would scoff at such childish affairs, but you were full-on smiling now, some of your usual vivacity seeping back in, so she let the moment pass without comment.

Her eyes followed Thing as he left. Sure, he had ruined her writing (something he would be punished for in due time), but he had admittedly done well to immediately notify her of what happened.

She would have to give him something, she decided. Maybe one of those scented lotions he was always trying to steal from the Jericho convenience store.

Once he was gone, she stood, tugging you up by your shirt sleeves and pulling you back to your bed. Gently, she shoved you down, and only once you were completely settled did she slip between your sheets and lay down next to you.

Crossing her arms, she raked her eyes over your tired form, lingering on the hand resting in the space between both of your bodies. Temptation, soft and sweet, pulled at her, but she stubbornly resisted.

“You won’t have to worry about your sleep being hindered anymore.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, exhaustion making your eyelids dip. “Why not?”

“I’ll steal your terrific dreams away for my own enjoyment,” she informed, lips quirking slightly. “I could use the pick me up.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” you teased. Wednesday shot you a sharp look at the flagrant slight to her character.

“Insult me like that again and night terrors will be the least of your worries.”

A chorus of sleepy laughs arose from your lips, and even with your eyes half-lidded and only the faint light of the moon to illuminate your features, Wednesday could see the fondness in your eyes. “Of course, Wends.”

She huffed, redirecting her gaze to the ceiling.

“Go to sleep, we have classes tomorrow.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. She barely had time to finish her sentence before your eyes closed again, breaths already beginning to even out.

Still, she waited minutes longer, until she knew you were deep within sleep’s embrace, to reach down and rest her hand over your outstretched one, curling her fingers lightly around yours.

Wednesday had never been one to hold superstitious beliefs of any kind. She made sure that her mind remained rooted in logic at all times, but she wanted to believe that this physical connection would somehow help transfer the horrors that plagued you to her.

So she then could keep the terror at bay and revel in it while you enjoyed whatever pleasantries your mind conjured in its place.

And if that didn’t work, then she would be more than happy to slay the demons that haunted your dreams with her bare hands if need be.

#her hair in this gif makes me giggle #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

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