#chekhov's gun range

[bingoboingobongo]

my kaleidoscope thoughts/review

(spoilers under the cut. also im still shocked so this shit makes no sense)

holy shit holy shit HOLY SHIT WHAT TJE FYCK HOLY SHJT OHMFG HOLY SHIT KALEIDOSCOPE IS A FUCKING PRODIGY WHAT THE FYCK THAG SHIT ALTERED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY WTF WTF WTF HELP OMFG IM IN SHOCK I XANT WHAY BELP MDNSJSJJS NO FUCKING WAY THAY WAS FUCKING INSANE WHAT THE FUCK NUGGETS SHIT BALLS LOLOLAPOOLAZA WAS THAT WHAT THE FUCK IK IN AWE GIANCARLO ESPOSITIO SERVES AS DUCKING ALWAYS GOLY MOLY BAJJSJSJS SOMEONE CALL TJE FUCMING COPS WHAT OMG I NEED TI BREATHE WHAT?????? EBVRLEPQICOJSJSJD

holy shit okay so um Jesus Christ I'm fucking fahahsh that was easily the best experience I've ever had omg that's giving money heist a run for their money holy crap okay um

alright so ngl when i heard the concept of showing episodes in random order I was hyped and i wanted it to be hype but tbh i kinda expected it to be ass and omfg damn this show was so good wtf. that being said, the episodes in random order didn't exactly have much impact on the story but it was a fun idea and i liked it in the end. at first i was worried, especially when i got to the after the heist episodes (which showed right before the white episode for me) bc in my mind i was like okay but like ik the outcome so like what's the point but damn was i wrong bc oml the twists Jesus Christ that shit had me in a damn pretzel.

alright so like my thought process. So i saw the pink episode right before the white one, and first can I just say that even tho i didn't like bob im glad he got to see his pink sand beaches even tho it was technically blood but whatever. anyways omfg tho did judy ditch Stan? I think so idek anyways that's irrelevant rn. okay so i was literally devastated when ava died i love her but also it definitely wasn't as bad as money heist so I'll live. BHT OMFG LEO'S DEATH BRUH I THOUGHT RJ KILLED HIM BUT IT WAS SALAS' SON BRAD?????? WTF THAT SHIT CAME OUT SO OUT OF LEFT FIEKD OMG JSHSJSJS

like i saw the shirt and i was like hmm that's kinda a nerdy shirt it seems like something rj might wear. AND THEN IT WAS BRAD TJE SON WEARING IT IN THE WHITE EPISODE. AND THEN RJ FUCKING DIED AND THEN IT WAS JUDY THAT FUCKING KILLED HIM BUT THEN SHE SORTA KILLED BOB LIKE WHAT THE FUCK OMG MY BRAIN MY JAW WAS LIKE GONE LIKE OMGJSSJJSJS

like ngl in the beginning I wasn't vibing with judy but then she killed rj and i really wasn't vibing BUT THEN SHE KILLED BOB AND MAYBE I WAS VIBING????

omfg and THEN HANNAH CAME IN AND HIT CARLOS AND THEN TOOK ALL THE MONEY LIKE WHAT JSJSJS AND LIKE IK ITS FIR THE BEST BECAUSE THE CREW PROBABLY WOULD HAVE GOTTEN KILLED BY THE TRIPLETS IF SHE DIDN'T BUT GAWD DAMN LIKE I WAS LOW-KEY HIGHKEY SAD LIKE TF

OMG AND THE FUCKING FEDEX GUY BRUHHSHAJS AND HER SISTER BRJSJSJS IM LITERALLY NSJSJSJSN WHAT

also her hair and her black suit in that one outfit remind me of natasha Romanoff so bad omfg

KSJSJJSJS AND THEN BOB USED THE PEN HE STOLE TO SAVE HIMSELF BITCH THIS SHIT WAS LIKE TWNETY BAZILLION CHEKHOV'S GUNS

IT WAS CHEKHOV'S FUCKING GUN RANGE TF LIKE OMG IM ACTUALLY IN LOVE SHOUT OUT TO ERIC GARCIA OR ERIC GARZA MAN I DONT REMEMBER TOJR LASY NAME BUT THIS SHIT SLAPPED GOD DAWM EXPECTATION FUCKING EXCEEDED BEHWJAJSJJSJSJSJS

holy shit holy shit AND WHEN THE FUCKING MACAU AD WENT OFF DAMN KUDOS TO AVA BC I WOJLD HAVE BURST OJT LAUGHING JESUS CHRISR TNO IT WAS SO GOOD

ngl tho idek if it actually randomizes the order u watch it in i started out with the jail episode with stan and ray tho so idk tell me if u guys get anything different

[owilder]

If a character in a Dickens novel merely passes someone by and there is so much as a single sentence dedicated to the encounter, rest assured that person will resurface (and be vital to the plot).

[howtofightwrite]

I'm always a little bit (more than a bit tbh) skeptical when I see it in movies or read in books, that an archer uses their bow as a melee weapon when the enemy gets too close. I feel like using a bow like a club would not go down well with the bow.

On the other hand, a crossbow? Could you use a crossbow as a close-quarter combat weapon in a pinch? Like, whacking someone over the head and then trying to get distance between you and the enemies again.

Also I'd appreciate your 2 cents about the trope of "stabbing someone with arrows".

You really don't want to do any of those things.

So, the bow as a melee weapon runs into the issue that the limbs themselves really aren't designed to sustain blunt impacts, and even if they're made of something sturdy, there is a real potential for damage. Similarly, you don't want to damage the string. If either of these things are damaged, the weapon is basically trashed. This also applies for blocking melee attacks with a bow. In situations like that you're almost guaranteeing that the weapon will be critically damaged. Now, that could be an intentional decision, “sacrifice the bow instead of dying,” but it's rarely presented in that context, and the weapon frequently emerges unscathed (or with minor, cosmetic, damage) from these events.

Crossbows have the same problems as bows, with the additional consideration of their trigger mechanism, their winding system (if they have one), their optics (again, if they have any beyond sighting down the bolt.) Damaging any of these things will start to impair the weapon's ability to function. It doesn't mean that clubbing someone over the head with the stock would automatically break the crossbow, but there are a lot of mechanically sensitive components that could react poorly to blunt force impacts, so, it's best to avoid that entirely, and just not use it as a melee weapon.

Everything I just said about the crossbow also applies to just about any firearm more advanced than a 14th century hand cannon. Firearms do have the advantage in that they're expected to experience some kinetic kick, so it's not as simple as, “well you can't do this, or gun will break,” but as a general rule, you shouldn't do it. Clubbing someone over the head with your M4a1 shouldn't mess up your zero, it shouldn't damage your trigger mechanism, it shouldn't affect the firing pin, but you still shouldn't do it, because there is a genuine risk of breaking something. There are a lot of moving parts in modern firearms, and if any of those are out of place, it's not going to work right.

Ranged weapons are intended to be used at range, they're not supposed to be used as improvised clubs, and while most modern examples should be able to survive some abuse, it's still a bad idea.

Stabbing with an arrow is something I have mixed feelings on. From a realism perspective, it's not. Arrows (and bolts) are designed to be aerodynamic, you want low drag on the shaft, and that means that you're not going to get the kind of grip you would with a knife. The shaft should be smooth, and as a result, able to move through the air with ease, but that also makes it harder to manually shove it into someone.

At the same time, most arrow stabbings in fiction are examples object conservation. It's a kind of Chekhov's Gun, where the item is being completely repurposed in the moment, and that's a bit of creativity that I'm rather fond of, even when it's not completely realistic. This even extends to situations where someone's been shot with an arrow, pulls it out, and then stabs someone with it. It's biologically impossible in most cases, but it can be a well done moment that effectively plays with the objects that have already been established in the fight.

It's a little off topic here, but getting shot with an arrow (or bolt) is very different from being shot by a bullet. In the case of bullets, they tear through your musculature and (usually) exit the body. The problem is that you now have new holes, through which your blood is now seeking to escape. Being hit by an arrow will pin your muscles together in their current configuration. Think of it like running a toothpick through a stack of thinly sliced meat, the exact position of those slices is now fixed in relation to one another. The problem is, your muscled don't move together. They're multiple layers of meat moving over one another, and when you skewer that, you cannot change the relative position of those muscles. Meaning, getting shot with an arrow will lock up portions of your body, preventing motion. This is why I said that pulling an arrow out and then stabbing someone is sometimes biologically impossible. It is biologically impossible to continue fighting after taking a couple arrows, because you'll be unable to sufficiently move your limbs.

So, the short answer would be, “can you?” Yes. “Should you?” No. There's a non-trivial chance you'll damage the weapon. It's not likely, but you really wouldn't want to take that chance.

-Starke

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[eroguron0nsense]

Late Night Luffy's Dream Theory

So I've heard a fair amount of speculation about what Luffy's dream is after he becomes Pirate King, and by extension, what Roger's dream was (recall Yamato's flashback confirming that Luffy's dream–which Ace shared with him in their long tipsy conversation/totally not a night of passion–is "the same thing the Pirate King" said.) Fan speculation about Luffy's real dream ranges from things like "host the biggest party in the world", to "go to the moon", "make a country of pirates" etc but I've always found something fundamentally unsatisfactory about these, and I'll throw my hat in the ring to narrow down the possibilities.

To recap, the information we have about Luffy's dream is as follows: -Both times the dream is alluded to, it's at the end of what I and probably a bunch of other people personally conceive of as major sagas pre and post TS that both culminate in a major battle featuring EVERYONE WE'VE SEEN AND MORE –It's something that Roger, battle-hardened and well into his 40s or 50s–shared with Oden, that was documented in Oden's journal and partially inspired Yamato's unshakeable faith in Luffy –The Straw Hats, Ace, and Sabo are all shocked to hear it and ask if he's fully serious, but several of them support it immediately and the others remain protective over it and swear they'll see Luffy's ambition through. Jinbe, Nami, and Usopp are in disbelief, Chopper and Franky are excited, Robin is stunned, but looks hopeful or contemplative rather than derisive or amused, etc. –Ace and Sabo laugh as children, but swear to themselves that they'll protect Luffy's dream and won't let anyone mock it. As he's dying, Ace tells Luffy that he truly, truly believes Luffy will pull it off, and he's only sorry he couldn't see him make that dream a reality. –Shanks found it really funny, but is repeatedly shown stating he thinks that this ridiculous fucking child he met is going to be the future of the next pirate era, implying that he has some degree of faith in this child he (likely) recognizes as the inheritor of Roger's will Luffy's dream is repeatedly referred to as "crazy", or in some cases, "a child's fantasy", but also implied to be something really pure, ambitious, and highly unlikely but theoretically possible.

When I come up with fan theories, I tend to approach them less from a "textual evidence" standpoint than a "what would pack the biggest emotional punch and tie into the message/arc/etc that we've been shown thus far" one, and that tends to inform which popular ones I buy into (e.g. I am about 50-60% convinced that Law death will be a thing because, Chekhov's gun aside, Law's been in fucking crisis and unsure of what he'll do as his own man free of Cora's legacy and tries to emulate him in Wano. And while I think there's still a good chance he'll survive to the end for other reasons, there's also potential for a LOT of bittersweet beauty in him repeating what happened to him in childhood by quite literally passing on his heart and life to someone else). Considering what would be emotionally resonant and feel anywhere near as earned as what it's been built up to over two whole fucking sagas, Luffy's dream has to be something absurdly ambitious and thematically resonant. I do not think, if Luffy's dream were something like "I want to go to the moon", that Yamato would hold faith in him through impossibly oppressive circumstances, or that the audience would care like, at all. So if the dream is tied to something at the core of Luffy's character and the underlying themes of the entire series, what does Luffy represent, and what's the point of One Piece? Luffy is, at this point in the story and honestly long before, the embodiment of this sort of radical, almost anarchic humanism pervading the entire series that seeks to bring genuine freedom, joy, and peace to people everywhere he goes. Even before any divine or joy boy associations, he's a bringer of dawn, a warrior of liberation, and a worker of miracles because he sees injustice happening around him and instantly rejects it. He tears down oppressors everywhere he goes, and he's eventually going to bring that reckoning to the World Government and Blackbeard and every other might-makes-right, brutal, thoughtless hierarchical oppressor stopping their helpless victims from living free, full, happy lives. And critically, he's the inheritor of a crazy, radical dream that'll shake the world because god knows One Piece loves to talk about inherited will/dreams/legacy.

One Piece's broadly radical leftist humanism isn't based in naïveté either; it's very clear that this liberation is preceded by endless failures. Joyboy fails to stop any of what happens and writes letters of apology, Roger dies before he can realize the dream, and all the while countless atrocities are going on with at least 3 Islands we know of and two whole races having their genocides all but done to completion. Kuma suffers immensely waiting for the Dawn, and effectively loses his life and humanity before it can come, still holding on to his belief in Nika. But none of these things will stop the coming of liberation. Every genocide and attempt to purge the politically inconvenient–Ohara, Flevance, the Lunarians, the persecution of the Buccaneers–leaves survivors or inheritors, with Law, Kuma, and Robin in particular playing central roles in saving or aiding Luffy, the bringer of Dawn. The purge of Ohara fails to destroy the records permanently. The fucking biblical infanticides at Baterilla and the end of Roger's bloodline doesn't stop Luffy from inheriting Roger's will and his brother's legacy. Luffy isn't so much a predestined messiah as he is the inheritor of a legacy of resistance and hope that cannot be killed because as long as someone lives, they will dream of the brand of hope and justice that he embodies. No matter how hard you try, or how violently you suppress people, how many legacies or bloodlines or rebels you put to death, people will survive and carry on those legacies or pick up where your victims left off because you can't kill ideas, you can't kill truth, you can't kill dreams, and you can't kill the basic human desire for joy and freedom. I think the "Child's Fantasy" thing we see associated with Luffy's dream is key to this whole mystery. Wano's the arc in which we get the closest, most explicit declarations of Luffy's ideals, in which his core motivation for defeating Kaido–besides helping Momo and his friends seek justice and overthrow an oppressor–is to make sure everyone in the country can eat their fill. It's the kind of thing you wish for as a child–an end to world hunger, world peace, homes for the homeless, an end to prejudice–before a thousand and one adults feed you the lie that it's impossible to redistribute resources, that being crushed by hierarchical oppressive power is natural, or that some people are undeserving of life or basic rights and therefore deserve to be harmed by the powers that be. Before your parents and teachers and other people lecture you on the necessity of Authority and Capitalism and Hegemony or what have you and convince you that a certain number of people simply have to suffer and die to preserve the Proper and Legitimate Hierarchy, that the powerful deserve to be where they are and that victims of these systems deserve it. It'll be something very much like his hopes for Wano in the face of the oppression of Kaidou and Orochi, or the World Government creeping up on them afterward with Ryokugyu loudly announcing that the oppression of the have-nots is the rightful and good state of the world. It'll be a simple, basic hope for good things for him and his friends and all the great people they love, something perfectly possible and right and just and joyful that people have been raised to think of as an impossibility. A place where people can eat their fill, where there's water in parched lands, where people aren't being strangled by heavenly tributes. A world where they can be free. A reality where everyone can be happy, where dreams come true.

[untowardsthoughts]

i wanna make a dndads thingy for the 'Oh Yes, They Both Reached For The Gun' edit trend on tiktok . but i Dont Wanna Draw That Many Guns

i do have a mental list of a good couple of gun-related instances during seasons 1, 2 and 3;

- darryl during forknights

- glenn shooting several birds

- lark aiming thru normal at dood

- grant sniping terry jr

- link with the human gun

- darryl shooting chekhov's gun beside willy

- young hero at the training range

- terry jr shooting at the teens

- glenn grabbing the gun from mercedes

- francis shooting shane's leg off

- kimonwan with the rifle

- tony getting shot through the chest

- pedro shooting the mafia man in the car

- hermie getting shot

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Colin and the brothel

So I've seen leaks or speculations circling around about season 3 episode 7, about how Colin would find out Penelope is Lady Whistledown. Specifically, how he would react to this reveal, apparently: they would have a big fight, and after that, he would go to a brothel in anger. The reaction to this possibilty, as far as I've seen, has ranged from at best, skeptical, and at worst, absolutely furious. Even as the leak also assured that Colin would not seal the deal with adultery, the mere implication that he would even consider it, as what I've seen, was either unimaginable or so beyond the pail that it was sufficient evidence to villify him.

For now, everything still remains speculations. If it turns out he would not go to the brothel after LW reveal, it's fine. Otherwise, if it turns out that he would go the brothel after a fruitless argument with Penelope...? ALSO FINE.

Like, is it cheap drama? Yes. Is it a valid response considering the situation? Also yes. Intrusive thoughts can be one hell of a drug. But aside from that, considering his circumstances, I would think it a pretty solid development for his character.

Let's get the meta reason out of the way: the writers need knock him off his pedestal, according to what they claimed, in order to get him and Penelope to the same (somewhat) level. So far he has been a perfect gentleman, perfectly accomodating, helpful, honest and emotionally honest with Penelope. Forgiving and compassionate. The same arguably cannot be said about her. Going to the brothels is Colin's Chekhov's gun of a crutch, a toxic, "empowering" coping mechanism for him the same way LW is for Penelope. The narrative frames his experience with the two sex workers in similar way with Pen writing a gossip column: temporary reprieves from emotional distress. Achievements that according to society they should be proud of. It would not be surprising to me that Colin would briefly retreat back behind this familiar shield after the Whistledown bomb drops on him. And what a bomb that would be.

And with his current state of mind, and the stage of their relationship, I'm not sure how else he could have reacted, beside dissociating the hell out of the situation for awhile. He could not break off their engagement, because (according to the leaks), their engagement or marriage was already public and could not be annulled or postponed without causing a huge scandal, and because he loves her, he does not want to do this. He could not tell his family, they would probably be very angry and for good reason. Because he loves Penelope and would not want to rob her of the joy of with his family at Bridgerton House, especially not after she told him how much it meant to her. Telling his family she's LW would be a pretty surefire way to end that refuge for good. He would be furious, and rightfully so. He would feel tricked. Manipulated. His opinions ignored. That his affections were taken for granted. He would feel like he trusted and confided in the wrong person. He would feel like the Marina story was repeating itself before him, made worse by the person who condemned her, the person who he thought was his best friend, who after listening to him asking her to trust him, didn't, and behind his back made decision about his future for him. Plus his own moral opinions against Whistledown's ethics and her subject matters, Colin has some pretty good, compounding reasons to be angry. That anger has to go somewhere. And there's not many places it could go.

So yeah, going to the brothel, to me, for Colin, in the moment, would feel like one of the few ways he has left to assert some sort of agency in his life. In a reductive, possibly destructive way, yes, and on surface level, strictly carnal, the two prostitutes heard him and respected his wishes. And at the moment of distress, that would feel like a lifeline. And if he can't go through with that, if he manages to rein himself in, it would speak volumns of his emotional maturity and how much he loves Penelope. That self-control of your worst impulses is also what Pen could learn from him and guess what, it helps them grow.

[user-without-a-cool-acronym]

The magical slab of meat i call brain decided to connect some dots and i wanted to share.

This is going to be a bit of a prediction/theory about the future of both Jay and Pixal in dragons rising.

Starting off with Pix:

We know, that she was not with the original team during the merge, whiles still remote controlling the bounty. My guess is, that she was off in her mech, helping smaller villages like jamanakai, while the main team was protecting ninjago city. Maybe, instead of waking up somewhere in the newly merged realms afterwards, like the rest of the ninja (excluding Zane and his weird cocoon), she was actually lost to the merge, shoved into one of the pockets of nothing-space, between dimensions. This is the only way i could explain, swhy she hasn't found the others yet, as she is a technological and overall genius. It is however likely, that she will return, instead of being retconned out of existence, as she was directly mentioned and missed by Zane and season 1 and dragons rising at it‘s heart still is a children's cartoon, designed to sell toys and they wouldn't make one of their most liked characters disappear.

This is, where Jay and the administration come in. Before the release of part 2, when all we knew about the administration came from leaks in magazines and on versions of the lego website, many theorised Pixal to be the leader/founder of the administration, due to it seeming quite secret agent-y. I have seen some people still follow this theory now, and i understand why, but i think in the bureaucratic mess, the administration actually is, she is more likely to stab a printer with a paper jam.

Before bringing all the points together, lastly there is Jay and his department. There have been a lot of theories regarding who will find him, ranging from Cole (absolute chaos, as he tries to make his friend remember who he is) to Nya (ANGST). Then there is his department, the department of realm reassignment, which from a storytelling perspective seems a lot like a Chekhov's gun. It's main function in season 1, was to give some exposition about the mechanics of the merge to Arin, as well as giving him hope, go find his parents again. Then there is also the part with the Jay receal, but to our current knowledge, that could have been done with any other department as well.

So here's my theory/prediction, taking all this into account:

During the merge, Pixal was lost to the void between dimensions and disappeared. At some point after Arin's visit, a team of teleportimg agents once more comes upon a pocket of nothing soace, containing a person, that person being Pixal. However, her nindroid form keeps her from entering the kind of stasis we saw other people being reassigned to other realms in and she escapes. This is where the Chekhov‘s gun comes into play. As the department of reassignment is where she is likely brought after being found, that is also where she escapes from. On this escape, she bumps into Jay, maybe on accident, maybe she sees him and tries to get his help to escape. However, she soon realizes his memory loss. After multiple failed attempts to restore his memory and getting him to help her escape, she does that thing Nindroids can do, where they project holograms from their eyes, and uses it to show Jay a compilation of his best moments, as well as his past with Nya, including possibly his true potential, the rooftop scene from skybound in the version, that ended up happening, the scene from seabound, where he nearly sacrifices himself, charging the bounty and finally his farewell to Nya at the end of that season, as well as her memorial. This could both hell restore his memories, as well as giving new viewers pf the series a recap of important events featuring him and Nya, so those can be referenced in more detail. After this, Pixal and Jay try to escape the administration, maybe with a new and upgraded samurai X mech, releasing as a set in that year and eventually reunite with the rest of the team.

So anyway, that is my theory of how these two loose ends might be resolved, looking at both past seasons and a general storytelling and marketing standpoint. This is of course just a theory and likely way off, from what is actually going to happen, but i thought i might share. As a closing word, i would like to show the process behind this post

[wildissylupus]

Cassidy's and why his new one could be important

Ok so recently I was think about Cassidy's emotional connection to his gun, specifically his want to be buried with it.

Now the thing is, I thought that his gun in OW2 would have the same model as OW1, like his belt and hat, but that isn't the case. The guns are different and not in the way that they could be the same gun;

OW1 OW2

The guns are slightly different sizes, it looks like their made out of different materials, and the OW2 gun look a lot more personalized and worn out then the OW1 gun.

So then I thought that maybe the gun would look similar to either the Blackwatch or Deadlock gun, since I don't think Cassidy would get attached to a gun he only recently got, but that came up short too, since neither of them look anything like Cassidy's OW2 gun;

Blackwatch Deadlock

So that got me thinking and I have a theory. Cassidy's OW2 gun is the same gun that was taken from him by the Sheriff in the Deadlock Rebels novel. We know from Declassified that the reason Overwatch was able to do a sting on Deadlock was because enemies of the gang ratted them out (most likely candidates being Julian, old Diamondback members, Ashe's parents, and the Sheriff), so if Reyes ended getting tips from the sheriff then it could be likely that he or other Overwatch agents either took Cassidy's old gun as evidence or took it as a bargaining chip if Reyes was already interested in hiring Cassidy at this point.

It would also explain why, despite being the "newer" gun, it looks the most worn out, the most used.

As to why Cassidy would have an emotional connection to this gun? Well he probably used this gun for awhile until he met Ashe, probably even in the Crisis. And why didn't he use this gun during his Overwatch/Blackwatch days? Well if you look at his Blackwatch gun you can see that it has a red dot sight, which is more typically used for combat from 100-300 yards with rifles or short-barreled rifles.

Considering the fact that Reyes, Genji, Moira and Gerard are all more close range combatants, it makes sense that Cassidy's Blackwatch gun was customized to be more suited to long range combat, as he would be the only one who could fight from a longer range.

If you want to know why I'm focused on this, it's because of Chekhov's gun. Cassidy's attachment to his gun was mentioned in "act 1", meaning it's likely to be of some importance later.

[cousticks]

Hi cou <3 I wanted to ask if you had any thoughts on the Transcendents and/or any brainstorms on what we may see from them if they ever do appear cause there's some interesting names there

Hi Sol!! This ramble really got away from me. I end up going on about the Great War, different European organizations , talk about 55 minutes a little bit, brief stints on the real-life authors, this is really rambly as all hell.

Honestly? I don't know what to expect from them at all, and I'm quite excited about it.

Realistically, I don't expect them to appear directly. It seems like the Transcendents mostly exist in background and worldbuilding outside of the main series. Our favorite sad frenchmen Verlaine and Rimbaud were mostly for Chuuya's backstory (though Verlaine is still technically relevant, as an executive. I expect him to come back... eventually. The Chekhov's Gun of "waiting for a storm" wouldn't have been left if he wasn't mean to come back eventually in a plot relevant way, I hope. We know what happened to Rimbaud, too.

As for the big names we haven't seen any of yet, I feel like they were mostly involved in the circumstances of the War, and some background for 55 Minutes. (I had to go reread the passage where they're mentioned.) We... don't really know anything about them at all, other than they were European ability users who were deployed during the war with devastating outcomes.

Read more cut because I got real rambly <3

If we did see any more from them, though? I expect big things.

I study English literature, so I'm not too versed on other European works, unfortunately, so I did a little light research. (I encourage anyone better with German literature particularly to hop in.)

Goethe's Faust was wildly influential in German literature during a time where there was a push to form a unique literary identity separate from that of England and France, if I'm understanding correctly. It was and is a great work of literature that helped form the literary identity of a country. Foundational. That's not something to be taken lightly and I'd expect a powerful user to come out of it.

Similar with Victor Hugo. Plays, massive literary works, all riddled with social commentary that was key to his time. Big things. I'm more familiar with Hugo and kind of making the assumption anyone seeing this is, too. Or at least knows Les Mis. You don't write Les Mis to get anime twinkified in a way that is weak or uninteresting.

And of course, Shakespeare. Who had such a wild contribution on English literature and the language itself that we still use today plenty of words he invented, and follow the pattern of his plays to no end. I had a horrible Shakespeare phase I never grew out of, and have favorite sonnets (sonnets 131-134 my beloved). He was foundational to the language as we know it. I'm sure he'll be a powerful user.

But... sure, whatever. All the characters we know are powerful skill users in their own right. That's not new, that's just me going "look! this major author was important! wahoo!" I haven't said anything yet.

The Transcendent characters are... kind of strange, when you look at their real life counterparts. Most if not all of the characters are based off of authors within ~100 years of each other (with lifespans ranging from early 1800s to early-mid 1900s, generally.) With considerable overlap.

The Transendents, though? Are kind of outside of this. Victor Hugo is a little earlier than average, but he's got some decent overlap with the other authors. Rimbaud and Verlaine are in there, too. But Goathe? He was born in 1749, and died in 1832. The end of his life overlaps with some of the older authors generally present in the main series, but he really is significantly earlier, generally, to the point its kind of weird. And Shakespeare? Man is from the 1500s. He is so far removed from the other general eras that I was honestly surprised he was mentioned anywhere within relevant BSD canon. As such, I'm expecting to see some crazy shit with him, even in more background lore than actual main plot. Shakespeare is so far removed from any of the other authors featured and so foundational to his language that I can't imagine him not having crazy amounts of impact.

As far as the 'organization' itself, the Transcendents seem to be more of a class of ability users from the war more than any kind of group on their own, which I'll always find interesting. I'd love to learn more of what exactly they did in the war--its only mentioned that Goethe, Shakespeare, and Hugo 'clashed' during the war in 55 minutes. Each from one of the three countries who's peace treaty resulted in Standard Island. So likely they were all enemies. We don't really know who was on what sides, or what the "sides" were at all. Its interesting, because if we expand the scope to Rimbaud and Verlaine as well, that leads to three French Transcendents known, and only one English and one German. (I have my own running theory that Agatha Christie, or perhaps some other member in the Order is also a Transcendent, though.)

Which... I like to believe Shakespeare was allied with the Order, since they seem to call the shots for English ability users and foreign conflicts relating to such, and 55 Minutes says the Transcendents were deployed. As for the other two? Who knows.

We do know a decent bit about goings on in the French side of the war. We know they were running spies, with Rimbaud and Verlaine, and that there were internal conflicts at the time, as Verlaine killed his creator/was acquired by Rimbaud in what they called the May Uprising, iirc. France was also responsible for Mimic becoming what it was. Where Hugo fell into this, I don't know, but he was most likely working under whatever same government umbrella Rimbaud and Verlaine were. But with, theoretically, an even more combative ability, or just more blanket-powerful. Which... Rimbaud's Illuminations is pretty damn powerful, but Hugo was the one deployed as a direct offensive in the war, so we can at least assume his is either more combat-oriented or more generally powerful than Rimbaud's. That's about all I can assume about him.

Wells was an engineer for English skill-weapon development, which we can assume is a project that continued on in England after the war, considering how quickly the Order was able to deploy a weaponized skill user to wipe out Yokohama in Dead Apple. We really don't know much about the Clock Tower, other than the fact the Guild may also have ties to it, and that they're powerful. I'm sitting on the idea that Shakespeare was also involved in the order. We don't know what Agatha's ability is, but again we can make the assumption that whatever hers is, it is less combat oriented than Shakespeare's. Which... doesn't say much of anything, but we could theorize that Agatha's ability leans more manipulative or psychological than physical if it isn't combat optimized, which is an interesting insight to her, but kind of fitting to what we have seen of her, I think.

We... don't really know much of anything about the German side of things. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Goethe is the first German author mentioned in BSD canon at all? So I don't really have a reference for him. We can assume his ability is combat oriented and insanely powerful as well, but I've got nothing beyond that. Hopefully we'll get more content surrounding that eventually, that would be really cool. But... assume combative or otherwise offensive, that's all I've got.

I... don't really know what else to say on them, honestly. There's so little known and so many pieces missing that I can hold high expectations for the Transcendents we haven't seen, but I don't know enough about anything surrounding them to really have more than vague speculation.

Its a silly one, but I personally would love to see some kind of weird obscured identity surrounding Shakespeare at some point. If you've never gotten into the Shakespeare Authorship Question conspiracy theory rabbithole, I recommend it. Some kind of weird identity obscurity in canon would be a really fun nod to it that would personally make me happy and will probably be a headcanon I hold, but beyond that I've got nothing.

This was a very long answer to tell you I have no clue, but I had fun with this ask anyway!! I hope something from it gives you some food for thought.

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 20

Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: M Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

*** You heard of Chekhov's gun, we had Chekhov's rapier, and now it's time for *checks notes* Chekhov's runepowder bomb. ***

“You may put that map away. We have no need for it anymore.”

Raphael’s voice rang out shortly after they set out for the day, as soon as Karlach pulled out the patched-up map of Avernus to have a look. As they all glanced over at him, he gestured for something before them. In the distance was the lake that they’d seen growing closer since the previous day, now a short enough trek away - and Raphael was now gesturing at something visible not far from it, something that looked much like… a hill?

“That’s where the Citadel is, near the shores of the Lake of Blood.”

“... Citadel? I see a hill.”

For a moment, Raphael stopped in his tracks and seemed to hesitate, as though part of him balked at the notion of giving up the information even now… but Durge caught his eye and finally, after a long breath, he nodded. He resumed walking and they followed, listening closely.

“Yes. By the lakeshore there is the aptly-named Bleeding Citadel. Surely you heard of Zariel’s assault on Avernus alongside the Hellriders, to try and end the Blood War?”

“The Ride,” Wyll said, nodding. “Yes, of course. More songs have been sung of that one ride than of any other battle the Hellriders ever took part in.”

Raphael waved a dismissive hand. “Considering how disastrously it ended, they probably would like otherwise - particularly with how mediocre most such songs are. The Blood War cannot be ended so easily, and taking on both demonic hordes and the legions of Hell was pure madness. The Ride failed, most Hellriders were slaughtered, and Zariel herself fell.”

“There was talk that Asmodeus had something to do with that defeat, as things went really wrong real fast,” Karlach muttered. “In the Flying Fortress, I mean - just a rumor that came up from time to time. Though no one brought it up where Zariel could hear it.”

“Yes, I heard of it,” Raphael said, nodding. “I could never find proof that is truly what happened, but it would not surprise me in the slightest. Either way, Zariel fell and instead of trampling her under his foot, Asmodeus had a different plan. He personally aided her recovery, and in the process-- well. The celestial she’d been was no more and the Zariel you know well rose in her place. If this had been planned by Asmodeus, then the gamble paid off. He had a new, vicious warrior he then made the new Archdevil of Avernus, demoting Lord Bel to an advisory role. Clearly, he decided that Avernus needed a more aggressive stance. Bel was a strategist, but Zariel is a warmonger the likes of which even the Hells have rarely seen.”

Astarion let out a hum. “This is all very fascinating, but what does it have to do with the sword, or a bleeding citadel?”

A sigh. “The lot of you,” Raphael lamented, “have no patience for the art of storytelling.”

“You just make tales boring, pet,” Haarlep replied, all sweetness and light. You take forever to get to the point. And yet, when it comes to action, it’s over so fas--”

“Shouldn’t you be flying overhead to make sure there are no more hordes in our path?”

“Say please.”

“Absolutely no--”

“If you please, Haarlep, we’d be very grateful.” Halsin spoke up, smiling. Haarlep paused for a moment, then grinned back. “Ah, only because you asked so nicely,” they declared, and took flight, leaving Raphael to scowl, muttering something about feeding them their own skin at the first occasion. He only stopped when Astarion patted his back, with a touch more strength than necessary. 

“There, the distraction is gone. Do go on - concisely, if you please.”

“Mph. Very well. Once it became clear that Zariel had turned archdevil, one of the surviving Hellrider generals stole the sword and fled alongside a hollyphant who was believed to have been Zariel’s war mount. They made it as far as the Lake of Blood before one of Yeenoghu’s demons caught up with them. I am not certain what they did, but a fortress sprang up, and neither the general nor the Sword of Zariel were seen again. It’s rather obvious that they’re inside, but the Citadel is inaccessible to fiends and, over time, it became… covered.”

Durge blinked. “Covered? In what?”

“Why, precisely in what you’re seeing - that is no hill. It is the Citadel, covered quite literally in a scab. Avernus itself grows it around it, as if on a wound - Hells and divine energy don’t mix well. You did stock up on explosives as I told you to, I hope?”

“Ah, that.” Durge laughed, and patted their bag of holding. “Not to worry. We have enough to blow up a Steel Watch foundry, if need be.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “That is curiously specific,” he pointed out. 

Durge grinned, all fangs, and said nothing.

***

“Lord Bel. Thank you for granting me an audience at such short noti--”

“Three legions of abishai, Tiamat has pledged,” Lord Bel spoke without so much looking up from the miniature armies moving across the map of Avernus. “Did the idiot you sent to relay your message speak true?”

Raphael nodded. Still reeling from Bele’s visit, he’d forgotten how eager he’d been to give the archduke the news himself, no more than an hour earlier. Now, all taste of that triumph was gone; he could only taste ashes and bile. “He did, my lord. It was a fruitful meeting.”

“The contract?”

A gesture from Raphael, a burst of flame, and the contract hovered in the air before lord Bel. He took a look, eyes scanning the writing and the signature at the bottom. Then, he bared his fangs in a smile. “I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. You did obtain twice the troops we usually get from Maladomini, after they told us they’d be cutting them by half.” He glanced back. “I never asked, what did you write to Lord Beelzebul?”

“That there was no reason for concern and no need for apologies, as the troops sent by my lord father Mephistopheles were twice as many and would easily make up for the shortfall.”

Lord Bel stared for a moment before he threw back his head and laughed. “Hah! I never much cared for the political posturing going on between layers, but it seems I should have.” 

“You don’t need to, my lord. I’ll gladly continue to handle this for you, if it pleases you.”

“If it pleases me?” Another laugh. “Of course it pleases me. What’s with the modesty now? You’re an asset on the battlefield, yes, but this?” He gestured to the signed contract in which Tiamat pledged three further legions of abishai to join Bel’s forces. “This is where you shine.”

Praise from an archdevil was hard-won, and always a reason for pride. Still, the smile on Raphael’s face was forced, the taste of bile still in his throat, choking him.

“Ah, don’t you mind them. Your Infernal is already near perfect, and jealousy is one ugly beast,” Bele’s voice rang out in the back of his mind. He almost felt it again, the touch of pale fingers tilting up his chin. He was no ice devil, yet he felt so oddly cold. “Learning all about contracts already, aren’t you? It’s impressive - but then again your lord father is brilliant, too. You will shine here, I am sure. If you are in need of any clarifications on our laws, do feel free to seek me out.” 

“Thank you, magistrate.”

“... Thank you, my lord,” Raphael heard himself saying, as though from very far away. Something had to show, for the grin on Bel’s face faded, and he narrowed his eyes. 

“You are not here to discuss your successes.”

“No, my lord.”

“What did Justiciar Bele want of you?”

“He came to inform me that I am no longer barred from returning to Mephistar.”

“Ah, I see. And what did you tell him?”

“That it was very gracious of my lord father to remove my status as an exile. It is what I’d hoped for. However, I did let Justiciar Bele know that as the Lord of the Eighth did not specifically summon me and I have duties here, I am not at liberty to leave yet.”

“Oh?”

Raphael bowed his head. “Unless your lordship wishes to dismiss me.”

“But you’d rather I don’t,” was the reply. A statement, not a question. Bel was not interested in knowing why Raphael would choose not to return, after supposedly joining the Canian troops specifically to be allowed back one day. All he cared for was the end result; Raphael respected that, and he was in no small measure relieved to be spared overly personal questions.  He deepened his bow before he spoke again. 

“... If it pleases your lordship, I’ll continue to serve until the day my liege summons me.”

Bel was quiet for a few moments before he gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Ah, I see. It is true he may order you to return to Mephistar at any time, as things stand,” he said. They both knew there was one thing, and one thing only, that would stand in the way of that: an official role and title at Lord Bel’s court. Then Mephistopheles may yet summon him, yes, but not keep him - let alone harm him - without Bel’s approval. 

And Raphael had every intention to be too useful to Avernus for Bel to ever give that approval. He remained bowing as he spoke. 

“I know I am very young still, and that I have not served you long. I hope you don’t think I feel entitled to a position I have not earned. But if you’d be inclined to give me a chance--”

“Ah, enough,” Bel cut him off with a wave of his hand, and stood from the table. The small armies moving across it were forgotten, for the time being. “I like to think of myself as fair, but I certainly cannot be accused of being generous. I am not in the habit of surrendering assets to others - particularly those who failed to recognize their worth when they could. Lord Mephistopheles thinks me a fool, and I have no inclination to prove him right. You may not have served me long, but you have served me well. I expect you’ll be able to serve me better still, in time. Now stop bowing so low before you break your spine.”

Raphael breathed out, and straightened himself to meet lord Bel’s eyes. Keeping the depth of his relief from showing in his voice was no easy feat, but he managed to sound, at least, dignified. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Thank your good timing, not me. That, and the fact Shummrath finally pushed my patience too far in your absence.”

Raphael blinked. He was certainly not going to mourn whatever fate befell the general, but he hadn’t expected the news. “What has become of--” he started, only for Bel to cut him off with a gesture of his hand. 

“None of your concern. All you need to know is that you shall not see him again. Leanath has been promoted to take this place. That leaves her old position open, and no archduke should be without a steward. I trust you’ll at least pretend to be surprised when I offer you the position in a more official manner?”

“My lord, there are no words to express--”

“Then don’t speak,” Bel said, and turned back to the map, making it plain that the meeting was over. “You have time until tomorrow to rehearse a speech.”

“... Thank you, my lord.”

Raphael bowed once again before he left, but he did not head to his rooms right away. He stopped at a balcony - the same, he recalled, where he had met Lady Antilia on her last visit. He stood by the railing, where he’d stood last time - only that the spot next to him was empty.

You seem to have carved a place for yourself here. Why not reconsider whether you truly wish to return to Cania? 

I left as an exile. I don’t intend to let that stand.

Now he was no longer an exile, as he wished. And Antilia had been right, after all: whether or not his lord father truly saw his worth now, why should he return under his thumb? Avernus was where he could prove himself, and despite the neverending war and the chaos it brought, something about the layer made him feel more at home than the frigid wastes of Cania, with its icy winds and shimmering glaciers. He was, after all, a creature of fire.

And now he’d have an official role, one of prestige that he couldn’t ever hope to obtain in Mephistar. Raphael, steward of Avernus; it had a nice ring to it. 

Standing alone on the balcony, Raphael looked up at the red sky and let his lips curl in a smile.

It did not reach his eyes.

***

“Well, this is disgusting. You could have mentioned this earlier, devil!”

“I didn’t think the sight of some congealed blood would make you falter, spawn.”

“This is an entire hill of… of… I am not even certain what it is. Is it even a real scab? It’s like it’s alive.”

“Well, in a manner of speaking.”

While Astarion let out a few more noises of disgust Wyll groaned, reaching up to rub his forehead before looking back up at the mound of… something that indeed looked much like a scab, towering at least three hundred feet above them. There were chains anchored to the ground, going up the hill, attached to… a dome, yes, right on top of the growth. The only part of the Citadel not yet covered, although it was hard to tell for how long that would remain the case. “And by that you mean…?”

Raphael shrugged, arms crossed as he glanced up at the hill, at the chains. “There are bound to be demons inside. The Citadel allows no fiend to open its doors, but even so, Yeenoghu's demons carved tunnels through the scab itself. They have built a burrow of sorts in there, and there’s no telling quite how many are in there.”

“Ah, I see,” Durge muttered. “So that’s what the explosive is for - not just to clear a way, but to flush them out?”

“And kill as many as possible in the process, yes. If the explosives you have are as powerful as you say, of course. If not, they may collapse the tunnels without destroying the scab itself, and make reaching the entrance exponentially more difficult.”

“Hah! Don’t worry, I am confident enough the runepowder bomb can get the job done.”

“... Where in all the bleeding Hells did you find a runepowder--”

“It’s a long story,” Astarion cut him off, and let out a hum. “So, demons digging inside - why, though? You said the doors will not open to let fiends in,” he pointed out, only for Raphael to hum.

“To be honest, I don’t precisely know what all the digging is for. The only guess is that perhaps they’re delusional enough they think they can succeed in forcing the doors open. Or perhaps they’re looking for Crokek'toeck.”

“Bless you,” Wyll quipped, gaining himself a sideways glance and a long, weary sigh. 

“... Really?”

“Ah, my humor is wasted on you,” he muttered, and looked back at the scab. “All right, I’ll bite. Who’s… the thing you mentioned?”

“I’d describe it as hunger incarnate,” he said, because Hells forbid he ever spoke plain.

“... Perhaps a slightly more literal description?” Halsin asked, more politely than Wyll would have. Raphael did, at least, comply.

“Yeenoghu's pet demon. It was the one who chased the Hellrider up to this point. No one quite knows if it died that day or if it was trapped in the citadel, or within the scab. Think of it as one immense maw with legs, and you have a clear enough picture.”

“Sounds delightful,” Karlach muttered. She looked up a few more moments before rolling her head to both sides, cracking her neck. “So, if it pops out, we kill it?”

“That’s the gist of it. Should we encounter it, there would be no other option.”

“Are you sure? How big is this mouth, exa--”

“No, Haarlep.”

Haarlep sighed, just a touch dramatically. Wyll had to wonder if they always had a flair for dramatics, or if Raphael had rubbed off them in more ways than they knew. “My talents are destined to be wasted as well, I see.”

Raphael snorted. “Any demons we encounter here will only care for one thing and one thing only - slaughter. As your talents obviously do not lie in battle, you’d do well to keep well away--”

A crudely fashioned acid arrow whistled through the air and would have struck Raphael right in the neck, had Karlach not grasped him and pulled him towards her with lightning-quick reflexes Wyll could only admire. It caused Raphael to stumble, but she steadied him. 

“You good?” she asked, letting go of his blazer to grab her weapon. Raphael nodded, reaching for his lyre.

“Yes,” he replied, and looked over at Haarlep. “Ethereal Plane. Now.”

“Oh, come now. I’m not that helpless--”

Whatever they were about to say next was covered by a cacophony of shrieks and the clang of steel. Wyll had unsheathed his rapier and turned to see that apparently, the demons burrowing in the scab were doing more than just burrowing - they were sending out patrols. And one of them had just now returned.

“Oh, finally,” Astarion exclaimed, pulling out both hand crossbows while Durge and Halsin prepared to cast. “I was itching to finally hurt someone.”

“Poor fuckers,” Karlach cackled. “Bet you I can kill more than you,” she added, causing Raphael to blink.

“... Are you talking to me?”

“I’m talking to anyone who thinks they can do better,” Karlach grinned, and then cried out, charging forward with her blade in hand. It took Wyll some effort, really, to focus on the battle. 

Even as they tore through demons, he couldn’t help but wonder what may be the perfect spot to propose once they were back in Faerûn.

***

“So, you can take the form of anyone you sleep with, but you can only use it if you’re given permission?”

“Exactly. That covered Raphael’s form as long as he owned me - although those allowed in the boudoir made an exception to the rule, as you found out.”

“And that’s what that part about swearing my body was yours was all about? Giving you permission to use it?”

“Oh, you are clever. If a bit slow on the uptake.”

Durge snorted, going through the weapons on one of the demons they had just felled. The patrol had been a small enough horde to be manageable. Most of them had little worth taking, but this one had a healing potion on it, and they pocketed it before moving on to the next corpse.

“You neglected to mention that detail.”

“You neglected to ask,” Haarlep sing-sang. “Very unwise, that. But you were still clever enough to not give up your soul.”

Durge hummed, taking a ring off a dead devil’s finger. It seemed to have no magical properties, but the ruby in it shone and it may be good to hand over to Wyll. It was Astarion’s idea, to hand any and all rings they found to Wyll while Karlach wasn’t looking. It would give him a few options to pick from when he decided to propose as he certainly was planning to. That, and watching his embarrassment while trying to hide a growing pile of rings from Karlach was hilarious.

“What would have happened if I did offer you my soul?”

“I’d have devoured it and left your body as an empty husk for further use,” Haarlep replied, in the light tone of someone describing picking the pink shirt over the blue one in the morning. Durge raised an eyebrow.

“... Do I want to know what sort of use?”

“I am certain you can guess. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know it’s a detail easily missed, but I am a devil - more of a devil than Raphael himself, if we’re being pedantic. I couldn’t just not try to take your soul. And once the soul is gone, the husk is just meat. Still, I think it was a fair offer, as opposed to doing what I was supposed to do in case of intruders.”

“Which was…?”

“Kill on sight.”

“... Fair enough.”

“But as it was more of an expectation than a specific duty, I was able to find a way to work around it to our mutual satisfaction.”

Durge couldn’t say they were getting a lot of satisfaction out of it - on  one particularly memorable occasion, the sensation took over while they were trying to deal the killing blow on a powerful lich - but they chose not to raise the issue. It was much too late to do so, anyway: what was done was done. The main question on their mind was different. 

“Why did you help us out?” they asked instead, glancing over to the side. Raphael and Astarion were searching a few more bodies for loot, and for a moment they were pretty sure they saw Astarion slide a ring off a finger before showing it off to Raphael, grinning. “You were sworn to Raphael. Why work for his downfall?”

Turning over a corpse with a nudge of their foot, Haarlep shrugged. “Ah, but I didn’t. I was so very bored when you walked in, Raphael had hardly been home for weeks. It was all a bit of a game, and I had no idea the entire business would snowball into… well, whatever that was. No offense, but you killing him? It wasn't an outcome I'd envisioned. I was trying to give him a bit of a headache and maybe another stomach ulcer, that’s all. I thought you’d either make it out of there with the hammer, or he’d catch and kill you. Although I rather hoped you’d make it out. You were lovely in be--”

“Weren’t you worried about punishment if he found out you helped?”

This time, Haarlep laughed. “Oh, anyone else in the House of Hope would have been, and for good reason. But no, not me. He could rage, scream, make a bit of a show with fire… break some spines, perhaps, but certainly not mine. He does tend to throw tantrums every once in a while, but that’s about as far as he ever went with me.” The incubus bared their teeth in a grin. “He can’t punish me. He gave up pretending he ever could a long time ago.”

Durge picked up another potion and stood straight again, putting it in their bag. “I see. So it was a game of sorts?”

“More or less. Oh, I did think that the entire business with the Crown was not that bright an idea to begin with. Everyone knows Lord Mephistopheles covets Asmodeus’ throne. If that trinket alone was all that was needed to take it, he’d have used it himself - yet he didn’t, not for almost two thousand years, and he’s the archmage of the Hells. Which Raphael, to be honest, is not.” 

A hum. “I’ll admit, I would have expected Mephistopheles to use it, but it’s possible he had plans to do so at a later time. Something capable of turning a mortal into a god even for one moment is no trinket, and Raphael was no mortal. And a powerful enough sorcerer, too, bardic inclinations notwithstanding.”

“Ah, yes, that. Being a sorcerer was just not dramatic enough for him, I suppose.” Haarlep paused a moment before they shrugged and glanced over at Raphael, who was pocketing something he’d taken from a corpse. “He was powerful, no denying it, and the crown would have made him a force to be reckoned with. He may have taken over some layers, even most layers. But once he got to Nessus, things may have gone differently than he’d envisioned.”

Durge nodded. “Yes, I don’t imagine Asmodeus would have just let him win that easily. Raphael seemed rather confident in his odds, though. Perhaps, if he united the other eight layers first, he may have stood a chance.”

“Perhaps. Shame we’ll never know, huh?”

“You don’t seem particularly saddened.”

“Should I? Nessus is dreary, everyone knows that. I was not eager to move there. And I don’t think you fully appreciate how insufferable Raphael would have been as the archdevil supreme.”

This time, Durge had to laugh. There were worse things they thought Raphael would have been if his plan had worked, but to be fair insufferable seemed an accurate summary. “Yes, I suppose he would have been,” they conceded, and stood after making sure the last corpse of the batch had nothing of value. “I think we’re done here. We should keep moving.”

Further ahead, Halsin was doing a fairly good job keeping Karlach distracted while Astarion shoved any rings he’d found in the hands of a very flustered Wyll. Not as flustered as he’d been that morning, when Haarlep had loudly commented on how distracting the scent of the carnal desire they had for each other was and asked when they were going to do something about it, but pretty flustered nonetheless.

Had his complexion been lighter, Durge was rather sure they’d been able to see him blush furiously from a mile away. As for Karlach… well, she could be blushing the entire time and they wouldn’t know, but her flames had decidedly flared up before she’d muttered what was probably the most ill-advised ‘go fuck yourself’ in history. Leading to the predictable response that Raphael was not in the mood lately, but that they’d try again that night. 

“I’m not sure I’m clear on the ring part,” Haarlep was saying now, still looking over at Wyll like he was the most puzzling being in the world. “Is it something necessary in the Material Plane before two mortals can have sex?”

Durge cleared their throat. “Well-- not really, but some people--”

“Does he need to collect a set number? Is that why you’re giving him any you find?”

“No, that’s a jest.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Romantic that he is, he probably wants to ask Karlach to marry him before they-- er. We do tend to use rings for that, so we’re giving him all the rings we find until he does.”

“Ah, I see. Does one need to give the other a ring every time they have sex? Because by that logic, Raphael would owe me about--”

“No, no. It’s one ring, just once,” Durge cut them off, praying whatever god was listening - well, possibly not Bhaal - that Haarlep would drop it. They didn’t. 

“That’s rather cheap,” they muttered. “I’m rather sure Mephistopheles paid a much higher price to buy me.”

“The ring is not to buy-- wait. Mephistopheles?” Durge stopped in their tracks, turning to glance back at the incubus. Who, in turn, shrugged. 

“Yes? He picked me as a gift to his naughty son, with the instructions to keep him distracted.”

Durge blinked. “What-- does Raphael know you were sent to spy on him?” 

Haarlep laughed. “Hah! Oh, you’re adorable,” they crooned. “Who said anything about spying? You spy on a threat, and the Lord of the Eighth never saw Raphael as any threat until very recently. He was an annoyance, and annoyances only need to be distracted. I was to keep him busy enough he wouldn’t make too much of a fool of himself. Believe it or not, there was a time when he didn’t only sleep with a mirror image of himself. Quite the opposite, to hear some tales.” A pause. “Do you want to hear--”

“No, thank you,” Durge replied, quickly. 

The incubus sighed. “Ah well. It’s in the past either way. My fault, really, for spoiling him. He showed some interest in your form, but when I offered--”

“You did wha-- ”

“It seemed only fair. You did ask for this form when given the option.”

Durge groaned, stopping mid-stride again to rub their forehead. A headache was building up; nothing new, but it probably had nothing to do with the improvised lobotomy that had mangled their brain matter, either. “Yes. Very well. It was only fair. Now, as I felt nothing, I can only assume he was not interested.”

Haarlep tilted their head. “That was the oddest thing. He was plenty interested, if you get what I mean--”

“Really wish I didn’t--”

“-- but he still said no. Unusual, that. I’m sure you can tell he was never one to deny himself his wants.”

Ah. Durge cleared their throat. For a moment they thought back of when Raphael had nearly collapsed mid-stride, shuddering in their arms while someone made use of Haarlep’s glamor of him and obviously hating every second of it. Had he decided to spare them that? If so, that was… surprisingly decent, they suppo--

“Hey, are you done? I think it’s about time we get moving!” Karlach called out, and to be honest it was a relief. That was neither the time nor place to go down that line of thought. 

“We’re coming,” Durge called out, and got walking again before Haarlep could say anything else, to hand the ring they had found to a very flustered Wyll. They did, at least, have the good sense to stop talking once within earshot of Raphael. Who was, at the moment, focused on something he’d looted from one of the fallen demons - a sheet of parchment, it seemed.

“... Well. This is as crude a map as one could make, but it should help,” he muttered. Durge approached to have a look; apparently, demons had indeed built a veritable burrow into the scab, with tunnels and chambers. They raised an eyebrow.

“That’s impressive digging work. This thing is hard as stone.”

Raphael hummed. “Not all of it. The further up you go, the more recent the growth is and the consistency is softer, much like an actual scab. Somewhat spongy, from what I’ve been told.” 

Karlach made a face. “Eugh,” she muttered, gaining herself a slight nod. 

“Very well put, yes. But we will have to go through that section…” Raphael’s finger traced the map, and his eyebrow went up. “... All the way down to here, it seems. They have successfully uncovered the doors - that’s unexpected. It is quite a feat, I have to admit. The scab is hardened as can be there. Perhaps we won’t need to make use of runepowder to clear the way, after all.”

Astarion sighed. “Ah, a shame. I’ve been itching to see it at work. That, and it seems a lot quicker than crawling through tunnels killing demons. Fun as killing demons is.”

Halsin didn’t look very happy either, but he nodded. “It does seem the more prudent option,” he conceded. “An explosion may have damaged the Citadel itself, perhaps?”

Raphael shook his head, folding the map. “Doubtful. It’s made of divine energy - not so easily destroyed even by the most powerful explosive.”

“The explosion in the scab may kill the demons prowling inside it, but it surely would attract every fiend, be it devil or demon, within miles,” Wyll pointed out. “There is no reason to risk it if the demons burrowed in there have so handily uncovered the doors for us. I say we wipe them out, and proceed to the entrance without attracting undue attention. Karlach?”

She nodded. “Yeah, works for me. A nice long rest, and we go in to wreak havoc. You guys agree?”

They did.

***

“It seems such a mockery, doesn’t it? All this blood right there, and I cannot sample it. It smells disgusting, ” Astarion sighed, tearing his gaze from the shores of the Lake of Blood and going back to sit down on his bedroll, leaning against Durge’s side. The cave they had found refuge in was more a hole on the side of a small hill than it was a cave, and they were packed quite tight. But it would do, especially as it was a good distance away from the scab and beneath a decent lookout point.

Durge, who’d also been staring at the lake for quite a while - did it remind them of their visions of Bhaal’s domain? Astarion couldn’t help but wonder - turned back, and chuckled. “You may drink from me as well as Halsin, if you’d like.”

“Ah, thank you, love. I may just take you up on your offer and let Wyll know I’ll keep his neck for tomorrow. Although I can think of someone who hasn’t yet offered to help sustain me.”

Sitting against the wall of the cave with the lyre on his knees, Raphael scoffed. “Absolutely not. I don’t see the tiefling contributing either.”

“Because hers burns. And don’t give me the line about yours burning hotter than wyvern whiskey, you’re technically human right now and I could drink your blood without ill effects."

"And?"

"And It would be really nice of you to contribute to our little Keep Astarion Happy blood bank, is all.”

“The answer is no. And if I wake up with your teeth in my neck--”

“Of course you won’t! What manner of creature do you take me for?”

“A vampire.”

“... I suppose I did walk into that one.”

At the back of the hole they were so generously calling a cave, Wyll laughed. “Well, maybe you can contribute with some music to lift our spirits while we finish setting up for the night?”

Raphael huffed. “Is acting as your guide not enough of a contribution?”

“No, it’s not,” Karlach replied. She was sitting against the wall as well, sharpening her greataxe. “You could stand pulling a bit more weight here.”

“Why should I, when you make such a perfect beast of burden?”

Karlach scoffed. “Careful there. Beasts cab bite as hard as vampires when you piss them off, and they don’t ask permission.”

“Threatening an artist is not precisely the best way to get art out of them.”

“Can’t see why not. Worked well enough with the painter possessed by a restless spirit bound to a cursed portrait.”

Raphael blinked. “... I could predict none of the words in that sentence.”

Still sharpening the blade, Karlach shrugged. “Long story. And a weird one too, to be honest. Don’t think you’d be interested.”

He stared for a few moments before he seemingly agreed. With a sigh, he leaned more comfortably against the wall and strummed the lyre. 

Wyll smiled. “Ah, thank--”

"High hearts and brilliant plans so bright Give many a gallant good cause to fight Yet never any lack of black-hearted knave Keeps heroes from waiting, yawning grave..."

Well, so much for lifting their spirits. It got the smile off Wyll’s face quickly. “... You know what, forget it. We’re good. No need for you to play.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking. I’m so glad we agree,” Raphael muttered, and put the lyre down to glance towards the entrance. He frowned. “What’s taking Haarlep so long?”

“They’re keeping an eye on things from above to make sure all is well outside,” Halsin replied. “They said that they don't need sleep, they’ll stay out and wake us when it’s time to head off.”

“And you let them? They’re obviously unsuited for battle!”

“He is not to engage, only to act as a lookout. I am certain we can trust them with it.”

“... Mph. We should hope they’re not foolish enough to get themself injured again,” Raphael muttered, his frown deepening. It didn’t escape Astarion how he kept staring at the cave’s entrance for a very, very long time.

***

Haarlep was keeping an eye on a few fireballs crossing the sky above, just to make sure none would come crashing down on them, when they felt the edge of a blade at their throat. They had a fraction of a second to consider whether to immediately seek refuge in the Ethereal Plane before a very familiar scoff reached their ears, along with an equally familiar voice.

“Hmph. You make as poor a sentinel as I expected,” Raphael muttered, pulling the dagger away and coming to sit by their side, dispelling the invisibility spell that, honestly, he hadn’t even needed. “The others should have known better than to entrust our safety to you.”

Ah, picking up some tricks from the vampire spawn, wasn’t he? Haarlep chuckled, unfolding one wing to invite Raphael to shift closer. And he did, clearly not thinking for a moment that a single beat of that wing would send him falling down the small cliff, to land by the entrance of the small cave with several broken bones and a vast array of internal injuries. 

It was tempting, Haarlep had to admit, at least a little bit… but they were probably not going to do it.

“That’s unkind of you, master,” they sighed, putting the usual hint of mockery in that last word. “I’m watching out for fireballs, hordes of demons, hellish legions… we have no reason to think an assassin may sneak in on us.”

“Excuses, as always. I’d rather be on the safe side and keep watch as well.” 

Haarlep frowned a little, looking at him. He was staring stubbornly ahead while sitting rigidly, close but not touching them. For a moment, Haarlep saw him as they’d seen him the previous day - looking down at them while trying to heal them, and crying out for the druid. 

Help me, he’d called out, not just heal them. Something about that choice of words stuck out to Haarlep just as much as the taste of his fear, but they couldn’t quite tell why. 

“Have you come to keep me safe, my little brat?” they asked, and Raphael scoffed. Again. 

“I am here for everyone's safety, if this is the extent of your abilities as a lookout. And speaking of safety, I thought we’d agreed that you should not wear my likeness in the open.”

“Oh come now, who’s going to notice? If anyone comes close enough to, then we’re going to kill them either way. Or are you asking for the Archduchess? I am afraid she wouldn’t quite scratch your itch without her usual tools. I don’t have chains, nothing to chain you to, and all your toys are back in the House of Hope. If they're still there. I don't know if the current owner found--”

“Enough,” Raphael snapped, but when Haarlep chucked and folded a wing to pull him against their side, he did not protest or move away. 

“Why are you here? Surely, I’d make an even poorer guard if I were to indulge your lust…”

“I am not tired, and I don’t trust you to keep watch. That is all.”

Haarlep almost rolled their eyes at that, but decided to play the idiot just a little longer. “If you’ve come to relieve me of my duties, I’ll head ba--”

“No.”

“You don’t own me anymore, little duke. You cannot command me to stay. Or, well. You may, but I don’t have to obey,” Haarlep pointed out. They grinned when the usual scowl appeared on Raphael’s face, that familiar scrunching of his nose. They chuckled, and leaned in to kiss that wrinkle. “If you want me to stay, say as much I’ll consider it.”

A pause, a long breath, and he leaned into the touch. “... Stay.”

“I’m missing a please, little brat.”

A scoff. “You truly enjoy seeing me brought low, don’t you?”

“No. Well-- yes. But Is asking me nicely really bringing you that low? Our traveling companions, perplexing as they are, thank one another over mundane things nearly every day.” Haarlep pointed out, but decided not to insist. Partly because they were rather distracted by the fact Raphael had reached to grasp their hand, and was pressing something small against their palm, still not looking at them. It took them a few moments to realize what it was. 

A ring.

“... I was given this after my duel with Yurgir. As they also handed me a ring of regeneration, it seems redundant - you may as well have this one. It helps ward off death for a time, if you’re downed. It should give us more time to heal you, next time you're inclined do something as idiotic as attacking a balor with your bare hands.”

Haarlep blinked down at the ring, taken aback, then they laughed and slipped it at their finger. It was a simple but pretty thing, gold with light blue stones. Haarlep could sense the magic humming within. “Oh, it’s very pretty. But you know it will cost you more than this to buy me back, right?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, I do so like it when you beg.”

“What got into your mind now? Am I expected to guess? Because--” he trailed off when Haarlep turned their head and lifted up his chin to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth. A bit of a shame that they couldn’t kiss him properly without the side effects of their spittle getting in the way. Even they knew this was not the moment for either of them to get in an amorous mood. 

“I’m going to miss this human Raphael when you’re you again,” they sighed, and for a moment Raphael went quiet. For… several moments, really. He looked down and seemed to fiddle with another ring on his left hand. One Haarlep recognized quite easily, as they’d put its twin at the finger of a rather unfortunate harvester devil to pull their little swapping trick on Mephistopheles.

Any and all magic in it was gone alongside with the other half of the set, but Raphael had still put it back at his finger. They almost asked why before they recalled who had given him the ring. “... I think she’d like to meet you, though,” they finally said, and leaned their cheek on top of Raphael’s head. “Not just this half, or the other one she met. All of you. Whole again.”

A long breath, the weight of a head on their shoulder. “I am not certain that this --” a vague gesture towards himself, towards the half of his soul that form now housed, “will gladly go back to being dormant.”

“Well, that may not be all that bad, don’t you think?”

“It should. It must. Human nature will always flinch back from the fiend. To have one part of me shudder at the other is to be weakened.”

“You’re not flinching from me now, my little brat.” Another silence, and this time it stretched on. Haarlep didn’t press, and instead folded the wing over Raphael, keeping him flush against their side, their tail wrapping around his waist. They felt him lean against them and oh, he was certainly not flinching. “Maybe, even this half of you is not all human, and the one back in Mephistar is not all fiend.”

A groan. “I am begging you to leave the philosophical conundrums to me.”

“Come now, you know I’m not wrong.”

“It’s painfully simplistic.”

“No more than pretending a single soul can be truly split along some kind of dotted line.”

Raphael scoffed, but did not protest. Instead, he shifted to lean more comfortably and closed his eyes. Haarlep chuckled, and angled the wing to block out as much light as possible from his face. “So much for not being tired.”

“Jest all you want. I couldn’t sleep.”

“But you can now?”

“If you’d be so kind as to be quiet,” Raphael grumbled. “We may find out.”

So much for keeping an eye out, Haarlep thought, but chose not to voice that. They turned their gaze back at the desolate landscape before them and the covered Citadel, looking out for threats, only occasionally glancing down at the ring glinting at their finger.

***

A long distance away, across Avernus and high up in the skies, the bowels of the Flying Fortress were shaken by a wordless cry.

It was a scream of blackest fury and something else, raw and unrelenting, coming from the dungeons. There was never a shortage of cries coming from the dungeons, but this was different. The Lord of the First had crumpled on her knees, tears like molten glass falling on the golden fur of a motionless hollyphant, on the infernal dagger still plunged into the creature's heart. 

Zariel screamed again, all hatred and sorrow, and everyone in the Fortress trembled in fear, looked at one another in confusion. Mizora could feign their same confusion well enough; pretending came as easy as breathing. Her fear, that she did not need to fake. Good as she was at reigning it in, she felt it more keenly than anybody else at Zariel’s court. 

If Zariel were to ever learn that the celestial creature’s blood was on her hands, her life would be forfeit - and her death would be a slower one than the one she’d granted the blasted creature who’d somehow gotten into her mistress’ head, and ruined her enough that Asmodeus himself wanted her replaced.

And when an order came from the Lord Below, she could but obey.

If our scouts had killed it right away instead of bringing it here, this would not have happened. They thought it a gift to our mistress, and it was her undoing. All that revolting talk of goodness and old times. Why, why, why did she not end it herself? Why did she keep going down in the dungeons to see it?

So many questions, but Mizora had always considered herself a practical creature and she knew it was much too late to dwell on those, too late for second-guessing. The order had come, and she’d seen it through. The hollyphant was dead, the line had been crossed, and there could be no going back. All she could do now was play her cards, feign ignorance, and wait.

All while holding onto the hope that her favorite little warlock, his companions, and the devil who was a devil no more would be up to the task ahead.

*** [Back to Chapter 19]

[On to Chapter 21]

[Back to Start]

[hoboal87]

Fool Us Twice Writing Challenge

@synmorite and I are hosting a Challenge! Starting this month, which happens to be our birthday month (plus the bebe currently growing inside @hoboal87) and with no end date.

We want you to write a fic whose purpose is to trick us into believing something that isn’t true. As some of you know, Syn and I love to theorize the hell out of fics, and we're quite good at it. Throw us for a loop! We want you to trick us. 

For example: Make us believe someone is a villain but turns out they’re the good guy, or vice-versa! Or maybe the reader thinks he/she/they are being cheated on, but it’s really that the s/o is shopping for engagement rings (or go for the opposite and bring on the angst).

Bend the rules however you see fit, but it should still make sense once the twist is revealed. Distract us with other details. Is there a large time jump? Was something revealed about a character and they haven’t been heard from since? Does a character have a mysterious past? Make us focus on the why, even though it might be irrelevant to the story itself. The point is: make us believe the lie. You can use any type of literary device; unreliable narrator, red herrings, Chekhov's gun, flashbacks/flashforwards, in medias res, framing devices, ect. 

Interested? Check out the rules below!

Some Rules:

18+ participants only please

No minimum word count, max 3k per part. 

Any genre - Angst, smut, fluff, crack are all welcome. Please tag/warn your fic accordingly

If you choose to write smut, no scat or piss play. We both are pretty much open to anything outside of that, but if you're not sure you can send either of us a DM

Fandoms: Supernatural (Sam, Dean, John), Walker, The Boys, and any iteration (soulless!Sam, Demon!Dean, ect.) of those characters as well as RPF for those fandoms. Crossovers are more than welcome and encouraged! 

RIs, OCs, and Ships. We respectfully ask for no Destiel smut as neither of us are particular fans.

Need an idea for a pairing? Sastiel, Saileen, Denny, Dean/Cordell, Dean/SB, Sam/Jess, SB/Cordell, SB/Stella, Butcher/Liam, Cordell/Liam, Cordell/Stella. Think your pairing is unusual? Please write it!

If you write any RPF, wife-hate is not acceptable. 

We do ask if you decide to stay compliant or adjacent to the SPN canon, no mentions of the Barn or Dean’s death.

Post in at least two parts with the twist in the second part so we can theorize!

You can pick from either option one or two, or both, it's completely up to you!

Sign ups are not required, but if you'd like to let us know you can DM either @synmorite or @hoboal87

Please tag both of us as well as use the hashtag #trick and treat hobosyn in the first 5 tags

if one or both of us don't reblog within 48 hours please send us a DM

First option: pick a song or movie from 1987. Use this as the inspiration for your fic. Multiple authors may choose the same song/movie.

Bad by Michael Jackson

Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi

With or Without You by U2

Here I Go Again by Whitesnake 

Don't Dream it's Over by Crowded House

I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffani

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For by U2

Didn’t We Almost Have it All? by Whitney Houston

The Next Time I Fall by Peter Cetera and Amy Grant

Alone by Heart

Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi

U Got the Look by Prince

(I Just) Died in Your Arms by Cutting Crew

Lean on Me by Club Nouveau

(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party) by Beastie Boys

Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac

Notorious by Duran Duran

The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby and the Range

Three Men and a Baby

Fatal Attraction

Flowers in the Attic

The Princess Bride

Dirty Dancing

The Lost Boys

Moonstruck

Overboard

Throw Momma From the Train

Lethal Weapon

Mannequin

Some Kind of Wonderful

The Untouchables

Predator

Roxanne

Adventures in Babysitting

Full Metal Jacket

Second option: Below is our Wish List of Tropes that we love to read. We have a wide variety of favorite tropes and once again, we aren’t here to judge.

Have Fun! We can't wait to read and theorize your fics!

A/B/O breeding farm

Dark Winchesters

CNC

Hand/Size Kink

Fuck or Die

Wincest

Weecest

A/B/O True Mates

Dadchesters

Genderswap

Walkercest

Rough sex

dub-con/non-con

Serial Killer AU

Possessive/obsession 

Breeding Kink

Knife Kink

De-Aging

Chef AU

Inappropriate Relationships

Grooming

Dark J3

Medical AU

Age Gaps

Mpreg 

Historic AU

[moongothic]

Vague thoughts after chapter 1102 and rethinking my old predictions

So I had been wondering for many, many weeks now if Kuma's memory bubble would disappear after Bonney looked into it and indeed is has disappeared Which means all the theories about the Memory Bubble getting "inserted" into another "vessel", be it some random Pacifista or S-Bear or just back into Kuma's own body, just so we could have "Kuma back" no longer can happen. The bubble is gone, no one else can see what Vegapunk and Bonney had seen, and no one else can carry those memories, no one else can inherit Kuma's will

But also, the Memory Bubble wasn't actually like Kuma's Memories, just a copy of them, meaning while Kuma has lost his humanity, those memories are still technically in there. He's essentially a disconnected brain in a jar, it's just the jar is also his OG body

And the chapter gave us two potential options for Kuma; either he's going to self-destruct just like Saturn wanted, or Vegapunk somehow in secret managed to install that circuit that could allow Kuma to have a """split personality""" (more like, his brain has been disconnected from his body and the circuit just allows it to be reconnected when enabled). Meaning Kuma could maybe take back his body

Though if the self-destruction mechanism was still put in, Kuma could get to regain his conciousness for a minute just to punch Saturn and/or say goodbye to Bonney and still end up blowing up. Which is a horrifying throught. But it's definitely plausible.

But it all just depends on whether or not Vegapunk followed Saturn's orders, and if Saturn had Kuma checked by someone else afterwards. I do kinda hope Vegapunk went against his orders, because if he didn't then him mentioning the circuit would have been completely pointless as far as writing goes. Like it's bit of a Chekhov's gun; you introduce the idea so that if it comes back in the story, it'll make sense, it won't come entirely out of nowhere. But, just as that can apply to the circuit, it can also apply to the self-destruction mechanism. Though, if that was installed already... considdering the Government KNEW the Revolutionaries had stolen Kuma, you'd imagine they'd maybe have tried to detonate Kuma remotely since they would've been able to take down a rev or two that way, probably. Though that also depends on whether or not the self-destruction can be activated remotely (though I'd assume so, since the whole point of it is that if Kuma went on a rampage and the Gorosei weren't there to give out a direct order, they'd still be able to stop Kuma) Also gotta wonder why Akainu and co allowed Kuma to rampage in Marijoa if the self-destruction was an option... Like sure, depending on how explosive the self-destruction might be, having him blow up in Marijoa might also mean not just Kuma but Marijoa itself blowing up. But between Kuma climbing the Red Line (aka there was plenty of time to have him self-destruct before he'd reach Marijoa) and him having blasted off again (aka he's not in range anymore)... Yeah

IDK the self-destruction is still extremely plausible, it's likely the Marines didn't resort to it yet simply because if they did then the plot wouldn't move forward the way Oda wants it to (also they might need like clearance from the Gorosei first etc, which could take time, especially since Kuma's recent adventure in Marijoa began and ended quite fast)

Whatever happens, we're finally out of the Kuma flashback. I definitely enjoyed it, but man was it a long fucking flashback

It's gonna be interesting to see where we go from here though.

I know people have suggested Kuma could arrive on Egghead and scatter the Strawhats to get them off the island, just like in Sabaody, but have we considdered the possibility that Kuma could like. Blast Saturn off the island instead. Like he could send the man back to Marijoa, or like, literally any fucking island available (as long as the Red Line isn't in the way)

'Cause that would be an unexpected turn of events for one fucking thing

It wouldn't stop the Marines being a threat to the Strawhats, though it would definitely sow confusion and panic, which alone could be enough for Luffy and co to escape. Like Kizaru isn't in the condition to fight anyways (though even if he was, he might not have the motivation, especially IF Kuma managed to regain his conciousness), and while Lucci and co might be a menace... IDK Zoro and co should be able to handle them. And who knows, maybe Kuma could blast them off too while he's at it

And yeah, that could put the Marines in a situation where they might not know what to do and what to focus on. The Strawhats could maybe escape.

With Kuma and Bonney too. Like Kuma may be on the verge of death, but if they're bringing the Vegapunks with them, the Punks and Chopper could be able to patch him up? Dude is a cyborg and all? MAYBE? IF WE'RE LUCKY?

But that really does depend on whether or not Kuma gets blown up. Nothing can be said for certain until we see the man's fate

But as I've mentioned before, if Kuma doesn't die and they manage to escape together... where does Kuma go? 'Cause, if he's with Bonney, then being with the Strawhats might be a really dangerous situation for both of them. Like yes Luffy and co are strong and could protect them, but also they're trying to continue their adventure onwards to Elbaf and Laugh Tale, they're heading into danger

Kuma could try to blast him and Bonney back to Momoiro Island, since that's where the Revs are, Dragon and co could be safe for them, but to do that they'd have to first pass through Marijoa, and shit's dangerous. It'd arguably be safer for them to either stay in the New World, or fly over the Calm Belts to either of the two Blues surrounding New World

So there are options there

If Kuma could send himself and Bonney to Wano, that could actually be a really safe place for the two right now, it'd be quiet so Kuma could spend time recovering in peace, and because of Wano's borders it'd be hard for anyone to get there, plus Yamato (and Momo, the rest of the Samurai) would be there to support them, all they need is just like a letter from Luffy etc

If Kuma knows Mihawk (and/or Crocodile), he could also try to seek shelter from Cross Guild, maybe, IDK. Like we the readers know Wano might be the safest place for Kuma, but if Kuma wanted to be with someone he personally knows and trusts, a fellow former Shichibukai (or two) could make for a comforting ally (depending on if the two actually know each other or not)

IDK man, shit's interesting, break week is gonna be rough y'all

[westeroswisdom]

Good writing and good acting themselves make House of the Dragon an excellent series. But the quality of its FX and VFX send it off the charts.

The first thing “House of the Dragon” visual effects supervisor Angus Bickerton discussed with showrunners Miguel Sapochnik and Ryan Condal was — surprise — the dragons. The show’s predecessor, “Game of Thrones,” set new standards for the photoreal monsters; it won sevenvisual-effects Emmys, after all. The prequel would rely on them even more.

A reminder that there will be a total of 22 different dragons in the series.

To be sure, the visual effects team had its hands full, especially with the show’s virtual locations and the progressive desiccation of King Viserys I (Paddy Considine) due to a Westeros version of leprosy. But the main attraction was always to be the dragons. They’re present without doing much through its first nine episodes, the VFX/mythical monster version of Chekhov’s gun, waiting to be fired. Then, in the season finale, their full capabilities erupt in a spectacular, thrilling chase and fight to the death that showcases how far VFX have come, even in the short period since “Thrones” concluded in 2019. On one side of the fight is Arrax, a teenage dragon with a young teen human rider (Lucerys, played by Elliot Grihault), the two about the scale of a boy on something the size of an elephant with wings. On the other: 120-year-old Vhagar, largest and oldest of the behemoths, ridden by insolent bully Aemond (Ewan Mitchell). “Vhagar’s head [alone] is the size of a small, six-person vehicle,” Bickerton says. In one breathtaking moment, the dragons’ relative size is revealed when Vhagar passes above Arrax, dwarfing him. It’s reminiscent of the classic opening shot of 1977’s “Star Wars”: A small ship is pursued by a Star Destroyer — whose massive bulk seems to go on and on and on.

The amount of attention to detail is astonishing.

“So for Vhagar, we took references from whales. She has these parasitic birds that live on her, eating mites and bugs off her skin. The rigging and saddles are now cutting into her skin because she’s actually grown around it.”

Here's Elliot Grihault at the filming of that scene. A lot going on there.

Another change from “Thrones” involved the mechanical-bull-like mounts on which the actors sat to simulate riding — these “motion bases” were more advanced, with more range of action, “more speed and more dynamism” than their forebears. Condal “kept saying, ‘I want the actors to be holding on for dear life,’” says Bickerton with a laugh. It took multiple effects houses and multiple processes to weave together the season’s payoff sequence.

It's worth having another look at that sequence.

[ilstar]

::     *ੈ✩‧₊˚         @deathsmaidens      sent:          🍒     🍉    🍌    🍊         /         fruit   headcanon   prompts ,    accepting .

🍒  :    how much does my muse value companionship?  do they constantly keep people around them,  or do they prefer to be alone often?  do they have or desire to have many friends?  do they see every meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend? 

delorean   is   alone   most   of   the   time,    but   mostly   because   he   tends   to   tunnel   vision   in   on   whatever   he’s   currently   doing   and   he’s   quite   good   at   entertaining   himself.   he’s   somewhere inbetween an extrovert and   a   social   introvert,   so   he   doesn’t   exactly     avoid     keeping   company   for   lack   of   an   innate   need,     but   he   can   get   lost   in   one   thing   or   another   for   a   good   amount   of   time   before   stopping   to   think     “oh,   i   haven’t   really   spoken   to   anybody   in   a   while”     and   trying   to   seek   out   some   human   interaction.   he   definitely   values   companionship   but   not   in   the   most?   normal   of   ways?   he   tires   of   people   very   easily   and   once   he’s   bored,    he’s   gone.   he   only   really      pays   attention      to   someone   for   an   extended   period   of   time   when   he   either   finds   them   particularly   interesting   (read: weird)   or   feels  like   they   can   keep   up   with   him.   he  really   enjoys   back   and   forth   and   chasing / being   chased   in   any   capacity.   so   if   someone   is   willing   to      give   him   attention      and   play   his   games   with   him,     he’s   going   to   become   quite   attached   to   that   person   in   one   way   or   another.   inflated   ego   warning   but   he   doesn’t   usually   think   that   many   people   are   capable   of   that   so   when   he      finds   someone   who   humours   him   in   the   right   way      he   does   actually   value   it   a   lot,    because   he   likes   having   company   as   much   as   he’s   selective   with   it.              

🍉  :    which of the four seasons suits my muse best,  and why?  

visually   winter   suits   him,    but   more   symbolically   i   would   say   the   triumph,   freedom,   and   pleasure   blending   into   the   impermanence   and   change   that   is   the     transitory   period     between   summer   and   autumn.   

🍌  :    is my muse inclined to help others,  or will they only do it when it benefits them,  if at all?  what makes them this way?  has it ever gotten them into trouble,  or inconvenienced them?

he   doesn’t   tend   to   help   others,    at   least   not   out   of   the   goodness   of   his   own   heart.   obviously   having   time   traveling   abilities   is   something   very   narratively   op   but   at   the   same   time   it’s   kind   of     …     the      opposite   of   a   chekhov's   gun      here?   because   he   has   no   interest   in   using   that   for   the   sake   of   good   or   bad,    really,     he   won’t   try   to   reverse   catastrophe   or   cause   it      for   the   sake   of   destruction      either.   he   uses   it   to   satiate   his   own   curiosity,    more   often   than   not   making   a   series   of   changes   that   are      uncalculated,   random,   and   ranging   in   severity     just   to   observe   the   endless   possibilities.   just   to   revel   in   the   fact   that   nothing   really   matters.   if   someone   were   to   ask   for   his   help,     there   would   need   to   be   some   sort   of   personal   gain   involved   for   him,    and   even   at   that   i   wouldn’t   trust   him   not   to   throw   in   a   curveball   or   two   anyway.    

                  

🍊  :    does my muse desire romance?  is it something they would actively seek out,  or prefer to happen more  ‘  naturally?  ’  what is their love life like?  do they have any exes or past flings,  or crushes?  

desiring   and   seeking   out   romance     —     for   the   same   reasons   he   doesn’t   tend   to   seek   out   companionship   very   often,   no.   he   just   doesn’t   concern   himself   with   others   that   much,    and   he   doesn’t   spend   a   lot   of   time   thinking   about   it.   even   those   he’s   taken   a   particular   liking   to   will   be   used   to   him   dropping   in   and   out   of   their   lives   as   he   pleases,    for   varying   periods   of   time.   he   indulges   whatever   desire   he   does   have,     so   there   are   definitely   past   flings   that   he’s   simply     lost   interest   in     and   moved   on   from,     but   probably   not   many   exes,    if   any   at   all.   this   isn’t   to   say   that   he’s   opposed   to   romance   at   all,     but   it   would   always   be   something   that   happens   naturally,    and   he’d   be   more   than   a   little   surprised   to   find   himself      catching   feelings      for   someone.   he’s   perhaps   a   little   curious   what   love   might   be   like,     but   not   quite   enough   to   put   his   own   things   to   side   and   go   looking   for   it.    

[awritersbro]

You ever write a semi-throwaway line and suddenly realize "oh, I'm gonna have to make this be plot relevant somehow, aren't I"

Just... blindly assembling Chekhov's guns when you haven't even seen the inside of a shooting range

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R.)

Series Content Warnings: Age Gap between Adults (15yrs, 25/40), slowburn, loss of virginity, Professor/Grad Student, explicit sexual content (NSFW, 18+)

(Image not indicative of Reader’s appearance)

"I think he seriously believes that deflowering an angel could mean an eternity in fiery hell."

- Cynthia Hand

Fantasies were not a strange or new phenomenon to Spencer Reid. As a young boy, he had spent many early afternoons tracing the climbing vines of the cape honeysuckle. It was an imposter, he knew, not at all related to the true Lonicera americana.

But still, he would drag his finger along the protruding filaments, dreaming of what it might be like to pull the stem from its place. To bring the nectar to his lips and feel the way the sticky sweetness tries to force his mouth shut. To give into the temptation and gluttony and greed and ignore the resistance. To press soft petals against his tongue until there was nothing left.

Fantasies were not a strange or new phenomenon to Spencer Reid.

He just never imagined they would be about a student at his school.

"All things truly wicked start from innocence."

- Ernest Hemingway

| Part One | The Hummingbird | Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her. 

| Part Two | Another Statistic | Spencer and Reader are forced to remember that the world is not only made up of the two of them. 

| Part Three | Little Bunny | Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. 

| Part Four | Sunday Paper | Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. 

| Part Five | First Taste | Spencer wonders if her lips could really make him better somehow. 

| Part Six | Tornado Warning | Derek tries to give Spencer advice, and Bunny and Spencer try to ride out the storm. 

| Part Seven | Unwelcome Visitors | Bunny and Spencer visit the prison, and later she pays him a visit in his dreams. 

| Part Eight | Professor’s Pride | Spencer and Bunny have their first fight, and Candy’s confrontation couldn’t have come at a worse time.

| Part Nine | Required Context | Spencer and Bunny discuss perceptions and... sleepovers.

| Part Ten | The Sin | Spencer accidentally calls Reader by a different name... in front of the entire class. When he begins avoiding her, she confronts him.

| Part Eleven | Hawking Radiation | Bunny gets paired with a familiar face at volunteering, and Spencer meets a colleague on a date.

| Part Twelve | Bitter Pill | Spencer and Tara discuss regrets over drinks. Spencer and Bunny discuss them, too.

| Part Thirteen | Lover’s Lane | Spencer and Bunny have a heart to heart (and a little bit more on Lover’s Lane). 

| Part Fourteen | Counting Heartbeats | Spencer finds out Bunny has been tutoring Kyle. He tells each of them how he feels about it.

| Part Fifteen | Chekhov’s Gun | The pair head off to the conference.

| Part Sixteen | Prey Drive | Spencer and Bunny spend their first night in bed together, but one of them has some reservations.

| Part Seventeen | Dandelion Honey | Spencer makes a very big decision for the couple's future.

| Part Eighteen | Rear View |

Bunny runs into Kyle and learns things about Spencer she isn’t ready to handle. (Synopsis)

| Part Nineteen | Barefoot Boy |

Spencer and Bunny have a discussion about socks (and a strange wedding invitation in his mailbox).

| Part Twenty | The Bloom | It’s Christmas, and Bunny stays true to her promise that he won’t be alone. The couple comes to a decision.

| Part Twenty One | Library Stacks | Bunny meets two new people in Spencer’s office just before they whisk him away.

| Part Twenty Two | Three Bruises | Spencer realizes the BAU is a lot harder when he has someone waiting at home.

| Part Twenty Three | Warning Shot | Spencer and Bunny visit the gun range.

Part Twenty Four | High Roller | Spencer and Bunny take a trip to Vegas.

Part Twenty Five | Different Dynamics | Lila and Bunny meet, and Bunny confronts Spencer.

Part Twenty Six | Bouquet Toss | Lila's wedding has Spencer thinking a lot about his future.

Part Twenty Seven | March Hare | Spencer's half-truths are catching up to him, and Ms. Fletcher is causing problems.

Part Twenty Eight | Final Favor | Spencer and Bunny take the next big step in their relationship. Someone from Spencer's recent past returns.

Part Twenty Nine | Nine Lives | The BAU comes to see Spencer and Bunny, along with Candy.

Part Thirty (Finale) | The Garden | Spencer finally learns what love means.