#godDAMN do i love this already

[that-disabled-princess]

"Do not ask how the ocean's blue or why the tides their time do keep. To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep."

--The Dragon Prince

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[triglycercule]

which sans aus do i think would believe in climate change challenge GO

horror: really sans (and by extension any classic variant) would believe in climate change due to being former scientists. like what type of scientist DOESN'T believe in climate change. so horror would believe in climate change but he'd be really damn pessimistic about it (because he's an asshole!) like he genuinely wouldn't care at all. sometimes on bad days he purposely litters. on really hot/cold days as a result of climate change he'd complain and start considering bring environmentally friendly. but he never does. horror wouldn't care at all

killer: he would believe in climate change but he similarly to horror wouldn't care. because he simply has more important things to care about (kities :3 nightmare :3) he thinks those things are somehow above climate change (dumbass!!!! nightmare would melt like wax because of climate change) but when faced with the reality that things are actually being affected by climate he'd be like damn.... this shit id actually happening and i'm contributing to it.... but then he'd immediately move on and get back to more important business

dust: climate change believer but he just does not care. like he tries not to be wasteful and litter and he probably properly uses a recycling bin but in the end he doesn't really give a shit if his efforts are really helping. also he kinda forgets sometimes and that's really not helping the globe. dust would bring it up in fights that he recycles and then people (horror an killer) would shit on him for A. being a pretentious stuck up dick who thinks hes better than everyone for being environmental and B. because he's a goddamn hypocrite that doesn't even stick to his own recycling goals. goddamn asshole

nightmare: he's smart enough to know that climate change does exist but he purposely pretends that it isn't real to piss people off (and get those delicious delicious negative emotions :3) and he'd do it so confidently and he'd belittle you so much that either you get so pissed off and irritated at him or you start questioning yourself and if climate change actually IS real? he'd make up fake sources for climate change being fake and site the mtt as his source because they used to be scientists 💀💀

ink: this fella doesn't even know what day of the week it is do you think they would remember climate change??? absolutely not. anyways ink probably has it scrawled down on his scarf: CLIMATE CHANFE EXISTS. IT WILL KILL THE CREATORS/CREATIONS. but then he still doesn't manage to remember it!!!! but if they could genuinely remember everyday i think ink would try to use less earth harmful stuff for his art and try to be environmentally friendly. key word TRY. this is the guy that goes around teleporting and fighting with ink they would litter the substance everywhere

dream: he really really struggled with grappling with the concept that YES climate change exists. YES there is enough trash out there to kill the earth. YES there is not much he can do about it. like every moral dilemma question about climate change was asked by dream (to swap) and he's very upset about climate change prior to maturing. but after maturing he knows that he can't do much to help climate change but he is FERVENTLY environmentally friendly and tries to remind everyone around him to help the earth (without shoving it down their throats because he's nice like that). if dream had the time he would probably start a nonprofit for helping the earth. he would start a nonprofit for everything actually. modern au dream where he has several nonprofit organizations to help various causes. someone out there's gonna love this idea

swap: he does. i think he would make a joke about it at first when being asked like CLIMATE'S CHANGING? I HOPE HER NEW OUTFIT LOOKS GREAT! or some dumbass fucking joke like that but this guy is even more environmentally friendly than dream. he goes to RALLIES for the environment. he would use environmentally friendly soaps and even fucking kitchen utensils. this guy is just here for saving the earth. he wants to really really believe that big corporations don't mean bad with pollution but he knows. theres no convincing himself that big corp wants to save the earth. even someone like swap who always has hope can't convince himself of that shit

cross: he would obviously believe in climate change. i actually don't know if theres someone here that i don't thinm believes in climate change yet. anyways cross would and he'd recycle regularly and try to be good at it. but accidents happen and he messed up his recycling sometimes and then he feels bad for it because the goddamn earth is gonna die if he doesn't at least contribute his part. cross is baffled by people who don't believe in it the same way i am at flat earthers. like HELLOthe rising temperatures are right there!!!!

error: doesn't care. he lives in the antivoid climate change doesn't effect him. also it would just make his job easier :3 error LAUGHS in the face of rising temperatures

now you may ask why did you decide to post this. but what you should really be asking is why not shouldn't i have posted this. the question was clearly on everyone's minds. i was just the only one brave enough to step up and determine if these fictional characters would care about our world melting to death (OBVIOUSLY)

[k0uk0]

It makes me laugh how Cellbit and Roier, despite being really good friends, if they are playing something together like for example among us, THEY STILL CALL THEMSELVES WITH THE SAME NICKNAMES THEY HAVE ON THE QSMP.

And also rp as a married couple even out of the server.

[hesgomorrah]

every time i see someone make the "trapper didn't leave a note" argument i lose 5 years off my life fr

[joelsbloodyhands]

I need a boyfriend who matches my freak because you best believe when he walks in my house he’s trying on all of my Star Wars helmets so I can satisfy a desire embedded deep in the very core of my soul

[cupiidzbow]

I inadvertently starting f/oing chef kawasaki he’s literally never a done a good thing in his life and he’s not above cooking children a kinda need him

[dirtytransmasc]

I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.

let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.

he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.

let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.

I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.

she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.

she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.

[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

No because wait a bit.

Shio only asks Satsuki to tell people Hibaru and Terasu died, and sure, for people who have them in front of them he isn't going to say that, it's more logical to ask them to kill and act as if they didn't but—

But it's still not Shio who asked for the murders? We don't see him ask for it? It's Satsuki who carries the message – I don't doubt that Shio rather have Hibaru (and Terasu) dead, but it's very much Satsuki who pronounced those exact words.

That doesn't erase the surprise from "but we're brothers"! But it does change the "tell everyone Hibaru and Terasu are no more" to "kill everyone that takes Hibaru's side" and that's not the same thing

It's very oblivious the entire situation is beneficial for Satsuki: he looks like he's pleased with how things turned out, Shio just develops a God complex so he's even more easy to manipulate (if he already wasn't before), and for someone as naturally not charismatic as Satsuki who doesn't look like a fighter and doesn't have an astro giving him a fighting ability, using someone else — someone whom most follow — is the best option. He's the second son, he knows he won't ever be first no matter what in no matter which context, so he takes advantages of it: if he is second, nobody pays attention to him because he's not a direct threat, and if nobody pays attention to him because he's not perceived as a threat then.. he has free rein to manipulate everyone as he pleases. And nobody will ever notice but he'll come out on top.

He's very much more brain than muscles, that's easy to see. I'm just waiting to see how much he manipulates things to place himself in the true position of power and how much Shio knows Satsuki subtlety distorts his words. (Because surely, if he only changes the way it's worded, the way people will understand Shio's intents won't change, right?)

Is it the first time Satsuki subtlety distorts Shio's orders/words in a twisted game of telephone?

[youngpettyqueen]

there is something very sad about Peg just wanting to tell BJ about her day to day life, the mundane things in the house that need to be fixed and the funny things that happen to her, all things he would've enjoyed hearing about or would've handled with her if he'd been there, and having absolutely no idea what effect these letters actually have on him

[raayllum]

me knowing in my heart of hearts that callum is going to play right into aaravos' hands next season and it's going to involve the cube somehow and it's going to be on rayla's behalf

[daydream-the-demon]

I'm the [tumblr] person who overuses comments in tags.

[tumblr] autosaved my tags even though I used them once.

Look in the tags and have a laugh.

(Possible tag game?) @author-of-the-year @jenumarts @thonethatflies620 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @ all my mutuals

[nraqi]

im actually still so pissed we never got a good varian & anduin reunion in shadowlands. what, his ghost appears briefly to pep talk mind controlled!anduin and then?? nothing?? fuck youuuu

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

(turns the freak dial on my kyoko up to 11)

i'm not sure if this is even kyoko anymore or just a kyoko-adjacent character. but. whatever the case. ultimate detective ^^^

design notes and extra below (image id in alt text)

she left the family home some time before coming to HPA, and during that time of independence she developed (refined) her scrunkly look

has also been repairing her own clothes, i.e: the pads on the knees, the stitches in the coat

her hair is chopped short for maintenance reasons, but she's left a chunk of it long so she can still braid it (habit since childhood)

the coat is her fathers that she found in her grandfather's house, and which she took with her when she left (it's too big for her, she had to hem up the bottom so it doesn't drag)

the boots were a birthday gift from her father. they were also a half-size too big at the time, but she insists on wearing them. several years later, the boots are beat to shit, but still usable

the monocle is her grandfather's. it's a kirigiri heirloom, and she uses it in place of a magnifying glass. the nosepiece is too big to fit on her face, so she usually holds it in front of her eye instead

i have no idea why one pants-leg is rolled up. for flavor i guess?

acne scars on her cheeks and temples

usually a dress shirt and nice tie because 'a detective should look respectable' (despite everything else)

i was really aiming for a more ratty high-school-loner design, the kind of person you don't know anything about and might be put off from talking to. but the personality would be very similar to kyoko in the thh canon, sort of blunt and monotone

also feat. my togami redesign idea

[nimue-hidden-lake]

Her Duality

Woman I'm falling for you more and more!

I found translations for her Confidant (not the best but they seem to be understable at least. It suffices I'd say) and she's growing on me fast.

[blackjackkent]

Narrator: Your stomach churns around and around. The bile within is unsettled. Each moment brings a new surge.

Gods, her head aches.

It is the worst the dreams have been in a long time. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. The usual visions of battlefields full of broken corpses - and more specific images, too. All those which the beast has wanted her to kill and she resisted. Isobel. Aylin. Jaheira. Dolly. Arabella... images of throats torn out and innocent blood pouring over her hands like rain...

She feels sick and feverish. She must rest - a battle beyond measure waits for them at Moonrise, the battle to take vengeance on Ketheric for good and all. She must sleep, but her brain will not settle, and her stomach spasms with nausea.

She sits up, pressing the heels of her palms into her temples, struggling to beat back the terrible thoughts.

Narrator: Your companions sleep like blissful lumps of meat.

Wyll is asleep nearby. Often he (and Lae'zel) keep watch over her in the night, helping to guard her from the dreams. He's promised he won't let her kill in her sleep again. But he cannot stay awake forever; he too knows the fight ahead will need all their wits.

She watches him through the flicker of the firelight. The man who has helped to make every good part of her that exists in between the rotted instincts and empty memories. The man she loves, and who loves her even though she does not deserve it. In his sleep he looks peaceful; perhaps he is lost in some better dream.

She stands, meaning to pace at the edge of the fire, to perhaps shed some of the nervous, anxious energy until she is too tired for the dreams to take hold... but instead she finds herself simply standing there, looking at Wyll, watching the subtle movements of his eyes under the lids, the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The voice hisses suddenly next to her. "He is an insult to the name of devils, posing as a monster with that sickly good heart."

She jumps violently, spins with one fist lashing out. She has learned - the blow is lower now and very nearly connects, skimming a hair's breadth from Sceleritas's skeletal nose, but he dodges backwards as always, his smirk stretching from ear to ear as if nothing happened.

"You could do so much better, Milady..." he purrs, coming to rest again near Wyll's feet.

"Get away from him!" she snarls. All her rage at herself, all the bloodlust of the beast, she would happily expend instead on this little rat of a creature who finds her at her lowest moments, if he was not so adept at dancing out of her reach.

Sceleritas's smile widens impossibly, straining and stretching the desiccated skin of his face. He leaps over Wyll's legs, closer to her again, that obsequious and cringing bearing contrasting weirdly with the bright cruelty in his eyes.

"I won't lay so much as a talon on him," he croons brightly. "I wouldn't rob you of that delight." He draws slowly closer, step by step, word by word, and she feels her blood run cold. "Your clever mind is penning tragedy as we speak. Your repressed Urge yearns to kill. And kill you will." His eyes narrow with gleeful malice. "Tonight... the moment you close your eyes... your favorite person will be killed."

Wyll.

Her heart drops into her stomach and her whole body begins to tremble. He means Wyll. Of course he means Wyll. There is no chance that he is lying; the dreams have already shown her that she is reaching a breaking point. All those lives she has resisted taking... it only makes the hunger stronger in the end...

"I didn't lay a finger on Isobel," she whispers hoarsely, clenching her fists at her sides as if that action alone could grant her some new conviction. "I can... control myself..."

Sceleritas laughs dismissively, as if correcting the misapprehensions of an illogical child. "It is precisely because you *didn't* touch her that you are insatiable..." he explains. "Your Dark Urge will have death, one way or another." Again that mocking smile. "Tonight."

He circles around her slowly where she stands, opening the way between her and Wyll, then stepping back into it again. "He adores you so blindly..." he hisses. "Like a pup. Don't you find it *sickening*?"

She can feel how the words pull at the beast, rousing it to fever pitch, hungry and full of rage. KILL.

She shudders, trying to force the monstrous thoughts back. Yes - Wyll adores her blindly. She does not understand it; he should have long since seen her for a broken thing and turned aside. But she clings to it with gratitude for every moment that she has it. He has made her who she is, every part of her that she can take any pride in.

She loves him. She has never told him so aloud. Does he know?

Sceleritas does. She can tell by the way he is taunting her, by that infuriating, mocking smirk.

"Have you been watching us while we are together?" she rasps out.

Sceleritas cocks his head as if in apology, as if he is not deeply enjoying putting her so ill at ease. "It is my *duty* to ensure you are making the right decisions, Master," he says, mock-sincere. "There was much... disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little Moonmaiden." He turns aside, gestures with a clawed hand in the direction of Wyll's sleeping form. "You could kill this one deliberately. I'm sure it will be considered a great show of good will. The tithe could still be yours..."

The beast growls and it resonates through her whole body; her skin tingles with the hunger. Yes. Tear him apart. Earn the prize. Let his blood spill out. A final act of love for you, to give his life under your blade...

A soft, whimpering groan escapes her and she squeezes her eyes shut. "You must be joking," she mutters, but the defiant words lack any strength.

Sceleritas's voice whispers in her ear, seeming to come abruptly from all around her. "I do not doubt you will act with the decorum befitting one of your rank..." A soft shimmer of magic dusts along her skin. "Good night, sweet Lady."

She opens her eyes and he is gone. Only Wyll remains, asleep, oblivious to the terrible conflict playing out at his bedside.

-----

(A/N: I fucking LOVE this next sequence for Rakha. For the most part, it fits incredibly well with a number of things I have already established about her story, her Urge, and her relationship with Wyll. However, it does have one critical difference which is that, as written in game, it assumes that she has not told anyone else about any of her internal struggles up to this point, which conflicts with a number of things I've written about Wyll and Lae'zel (and others) knowing about the beast and helping keep watch over her on the bad nights.

With that in mind, I have taken some significant artistic liberties on certain pieces of dialogue here. As usual, italic lines are ones from the game and non-italic are ones I've rewritten or replaced, and I've left footnotes with what the in-game actual dialogue was.)

-----

Narrator: Your companion rests blissfully, without a fear in the world.

She falls to her knees at his side. Her fingers twitch with the terrible urge to rip and rend and tear. The beast is roaring in her head, stoked to a fever pitch by Sceleritas's words and by all the blood she has denied it.

Reach forward to shake his shoulder and wake him.

Narrator: As your hand approaches his body, it wavers. It longs to close around his throat...

[SAVING THROW] Resist. Wake him up.

Terror grips her, widens her eyes to show the whites. With every ounce of resolution left to her, she slams one fist into his shoulder and then jerks backwards as his eyes drift open.

For a moment, still half-asleep and caught in some lingering dream, he only smiles up at her sitting at his bedside. "I love feeling you close..." he mumbles drowsily, reaching for her hand. "But are you sure..."

She can see the moment when the realization kicks in - when he moves from love to concern and fear. The transition claws at her mind.

"Gods..." he whispers, and reaches out towards her. "All right. It's all right. I'm here."(1)

She spasms backwards another step, out of his reach. Don't touch me. She is sure if his skin touches hers again she won't be able to control herself. "It's you--" she groans out. "It wants you--"(2)

At once, Wyll is up on his knees, all his focus coming to rest on her. His hands are spread in a gesture that is not placating but defensive - and she is glad to see it. He should be defensive; he should be ready to fight her off. She is an animal with almost no control remaining to her.

But he doesn't back away, just watches, waits. "You've got my attention," he says gently. Why is his voice so soft, even in this moment of crisis?

Narrator: As you tell your story, fatigue fills your body. Your head swims with the worst headache you've known.

For the first time she tells him everything, even the things she has held back - about Sceleritas, his deals and his tithes, his mocking taunts, his commission for Isobel's death. The words come out slowly, sticking in her throat, heavy with pain and underlaid with a hungry growl. Her head throbs blindingly, white and red by turns at the corners of her vision.

"The beast that killed Alfira will call again..." she finishes in a low, hoarse whisper. "My possessed mind will kill you..."

(A/N: BEAST! \o/ In-game called it the beast, I feel so incredibly validated rn.)

Wyll listens in silence to the chaotic, half-comprehensible explanation. His eyebrows knit together in a worried expression. After everything that has happened, there is no way he doesn't grasp the gravity of the situation, and yet his concern seems more for her than for himself, even now.

"All right. We'll figure it out," he murmurs, deliberately calm and steady against her hysteria. "I won't let you hurt me, Rakha, I promise. Just breathe-- breathe--"(3)

Narrator: Suddenly you become drowsy. Your vision blurs and floods with yellow bile, and you faint in a dizzy blur.

It happens so fast. The beast rises and roars, slipping out of her control, and her eyes roll up in her head. She collapses sideways and her vision slides away from her and for a little while she knows no more.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Narrator: You are not yourself. All control is gone.

She wakes stretched on her bedroll, spasming and struggling. A painful bruise darkens her cheek; someone has struck her. Her hands are tied behind her back and she is being held down by someone behind her, someone with long clawed fingers. Lae'zel.(4)

Wyll is crouched in front of her, one hand resting on her shoulder, helping to hold her down. "Hey. Hey! Stay with me!" he calls softly.(5)

She can't breathe. Can't think. There is so little of Rakha, and so much of the beast. Flailing against the hands holding her back, she jerks her head forward in an attempt to close her teeth on his wrist.

Try to bite him.

He jerks back out of reach before she can land the blow. "Shit. This isn't good," he mutters, his eyes lifting to Lae'zel for a moment, then dropping back to Rakha's face. Undeterred by her animal ferocity, he returns his hand to her shoulder. She can feel the warmth of his palm through her thin shirt.

"Whatever fiend's got hold of you," he murmurs, "it's made a battlefield of your mind."

Narrator: Your hands are raw and bloody as every inkling of your Urge yearns to tear your bindings.

"Rise up!" Wyll says sharply. "Meet its gaze. Show it no fear. And grant it no mercy!"

She wants to fight it. She wants to be the sort of person that he would be proud of, the sort of person who could meet the beast and cow it, slay it. But gods, it hurts. It hurts... it's so hungry and it is tearing pieces out of her brain...

Growl.

It starts as a whimper of terrified pain in her throat and rises into a growling roar like a wounded lion.

"That's it--" Wyll says. His voice is sharp now, trying to rouse her; she can hear the fear in it, and a grief too. The grief is new. "Gather your mind! Slaughter the fiend that stalks you!"

She tries. She tries... for him, she tries, when it would be so easy to surrender, to simply let the beast take her. For him, she would fight until her last breath... but gods... gods, it hurts...

Narrator: The night passes sick and sweating, but bloodlessly.

-----

Somewhere in that long, terrible, endless night, she passes out again. It is not sleep, not really; her head still aches like there is a knife in her temple, and she can hear Wyll and Lae'zel talking in low voices. She can feel the rough dig of the ropes on her wrists, holding her still.

Dim images drift in and out of her awareness. Isobel's face with blood pouring out of her eyes. Sceleritas's mocking smirk. Wyll's throat cut. Lae'zel's back broken. The endless black pain of the corrupted dark that surrounds them.

It is a nightmare that seems to go on for several thousand years.

But slowly... slowly... she does wake up. And the beast retreats, beaten back for the time being, returning to its low background growl.

She opens her eyes and finds Wyll watching her. He looks exhausted, his eyes sunken into his face, and wary and terribly sad. He reads the expression in her eyes carefully, and whatever he sees there seems to satisfy him, for he leans forward and unties the bindings on her wrists.

She rubs at the raw, chafed lines where the ropes sat. The pain does nothing to distract her from her exhaustion and humiliation and terror. This is the worst it has ever been.

She can't look at him as he sits down in front of her again.

"It's all right," he says softly. "It's over."(6)

She doesn't answer. She feels shattered, broken in mind and spirit. She does not deserve his soft words or his reassurance. The truth is inescapable now. She is a mad animal with only the thinnest veneer of reason over it. She could have killed him...

He reaches out gently and takes her hand between both of his. His thumb rubs over her palm just below the scored line of the bindings. "How are you feeling?" he asks. His head dips, trying to get her to meet his gaze. "Talk to me."

What can she say? How can she explain the utter emptiness in her chest, the broken lost thing that she is? How can she even begin to make him understand?

She opens her mouth... but nothing comes out. She simply, and quite unexpectedly, bursts into tears.

Sob. Say nothing.

Even at her lowest points before, she has never cried. There have never been tears. She wasn't sure she was capable of it. But they stream down her face now and she sobs and sobs, all the tension bleeding out of her. And she doesn't resist when he closes his arms around her and pulls her tight to his chest; she just cries bitterly into his shoulder until the cloth of his shirt is soaked with it.

"Should this inner fiend seek battle again," he murmurs in her ear, "I'll give it one. Let it taste the edge of the Blade."

It's an attempt at reassurance, but it doesn't land. If she can't fight it, he certainly can't. Why does he persist in believing she is worth salvaging? Why does he hold her and soothe her after such a brutal display of bestial violence?

She wants so badly to be the person that he sees in her... but why does he not see that it is impossible?(7)

"You are allowed to hate me for this," she mutters brokenly.

"Hate you?" he answers, and though his voice is still soft, the words take on a sudden weight. "The coast would sooner be swallowed whole by the Sea of Swords." His fingers drift over her back, up the back of her neck, along the close crop of her hair. "You don't have to shoulder this burden alone..."

She doesn't understand him. He deserves so much better. But with no energy left, she allows herself to succumb to the comfort, just for a little while. It is the only peace that remains to her.

-----

(1) In-game line: "Gods, what's the matter? You look like you've seen a gravehound's ghost."

(2) In-game line: "You are in a lot of danger. We need to act fast."

(3) In-game line: "You wouldn't. You couldn't. Could you? You're not in your right mind. There are healers in the city, clerics who can help. You should've told me sooner - we could've figured something out. This is what happened with Alfira, isn't it? By Balduran's helm, if only I'd known."

(4) Artistic license. Lae'zel is not involved in this scene at all in-game, but I've already established in drabbles that she helps Wyll keep an eye on Rakha and the beast.

(5) I swear to god I had not seen this scene or knew anything of it when I wrote this drabble.

(6) In-game line: "Looks like you're back to your old self. Poor Alfira - if only she'd been so lucky."

(7) One of the dialogue options here actually is "I promise I will be the person you see in me," which is excellent, but Rakha absolutely doesn't feel capable of it at the moment.