#i'm rambling. i should be journaling instead

[cheriekos]

briefly coming off of my touch grass break to say lack of self respect REALLY will get your ass so maybe like. don't be like me and work on that

[blizzardfluffykpop]

You sent me an ask so I shall return the favor! What is the most recent Kpop group you’ve gotten into and how did you find out about them? I always love hearing fan “origin stories” lol

Thank you for returning the favor~ That would be The Boyz 🥰💖 I love hearing fan "origin stories" too hehe (This is gonna get long I love them sm)

Anyways I've known about them since debut? I loved Bloom Bloom Pow with my whole heart when it came out and tried to fall for them then- It didn't work. The next time was when The Stealer (TS) came out~ I had watched them perform for Road to Kingdom- because ptg was on the show too- But I really loved TS cb- sm so that I bought the album about 6 mos later with my favorite members as inclusions at the time (Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae). But nothing came about of it even after watching the weekly idol episodes... Then came Whisper era and I ended up biasing Changmin (Q) and loving that song but again nothing came out of it.

(A little backstory is that Changkyun (I.M) got me into Dominic Fike's music-) Thus, when tiktok showed me Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo dancing to Babydoll earlier this year as a dance cover: I fell. And then I finally checked out Watch It~ But Hui had his solo and it distracted me completely from falling further. Then I had gotten sick and decided 'well, what if I watch their content?' And I did... I watched their hello82 interview and their reaction to fanart of them, and lastly their mafia dance. And I loved each sm that I decided to check out more.

It was the first time I had watched their content and wanted to see more. And now, I watch their content almost daily. It's kind of like they revived the joy of kpop for me? My (old) ult of ults has been on hiatus due to the military so it's been stagnant content lately for me. But then they came in like a breath of fresh air- and I simply can't get enough. This month will be 3 mos and I honestly hope I'll follow them for a long time. (I think they're my new ult of ults tbh)

And lastly now here I am as a Younghoon and Juyeon bias (with bias wrecker: Changmin... he's doing everything to be bias again). And with them having a comeback I loved with my whole heart this past month, I think it really solidified them with me. Honestly, I'm so happy with them.

[timbrrwolfe]

Me: "Hmm, I know a handful of women by this name and I've pretty quickly had a strong connection with each of them, I wonder if that's a sign that my future partner/wife will have that name" Also me: *has never, to my knowledge, had mutual romantic interest with any of said women*

[edenspoem]

blehh thinking about making lunches for jackson!ellie before she goes on patrol :P fluff warning. faggot shit. ramble blurb.

being loser!jackson!ellie's obsessed-over crush (i mean, take a gander at her personal journal—duh!) means making the first move. and, without coincidence, you did: she's a terrible omitter, and her friends (being jesse, dina, and if you want to—count joel in; he was the one with the gall in his guts to approach you and regale wide tales of his taken-in daughter and about her little "problem", being her inability to find it within herself to "talk to the girl she likes" that happened to be “a, er, relative neighbur'.” but with all the gossip to account from dina, you figured it be yourself—the relative neighbor in question) are no help on her behalf.

shit, now she cracks her blinds open every morning to the ritual phenomenon (how she would describe it: with disengaged self-perception and a faux-disgruntled attitude, because she pretends she doesn't have it hot for you, therefore assumes a callous notion about whether she should be so eager.) that is you walking through joel's yard, up to her garage—plastic container in hand.

she was simmering when the door opened. “hey, ellie! brought you your favorite.” you were a breath of fresh wind; something out-bound this wood-penned cradle in the mountains. brought something in she couldn't stop smiling about. a real, genuine attitude, perhaps? her head cocks limp to a side, reaching for the container. “thanks, dude.” her head shakes once, and she glances for a moment; scorning herself for calling you "dude" instead of, well, something more endearing?

you cared not one bit.

she did; a retrace visible in her features. a glitch. “so, um—what trail were you assigned?” though, if ellie had slept proper the night before, she should've noticed that you weren't outfitted for patrol at all. “i'm off, thank fuck.” you countered, knocking on the nearest flight of wood. she carefully laughed herself to countless bits. “yeah, maria's got a soft spot for me, so she gives me all the assignments she fuckin' can,” and ended in a louder tune. clears her throat to thwart the arising tension pulling, pounding her heart. “what's my favorite?” she holds the almost-opaque container up and eyes it; even for her picky appetite, she has a multitude of safe dishes she can whip up and take to-go. also—she doesn't expect someone to mind that much attention to a person to remember their preferences so soon, and for someone you're not even—ah, you get it! “buttered noodles.” the plain color made sense, then. “cause i know you have the palette of a five year old.”

ellie's brows prick downwards at the inner-edge. “ouch,” she expresses in synthetic offense, reaching to close the door. “rude.” (but if we're being honest she'd pretend your words struck her like a stake in the heart just to drive you insane and thief a pampering out of you—if you were dating; she imagines all this bullshit instead of sleeping.)

[covid-safer-hotties]

Just read through an Atlantic article to see if it was worth saving and now I'm on the verge of committing a public act of violence. My long-held stance that "you don't save anything from The Atlantic unless it's fucking spectacular" so often saves me from such moments, and I should pay more heed to it. The entire article was just a smear job against people like us who actually follow the science instead of just ignoring it. I feel like its someone who took a covid-safe person's interview in bad faith like ugh just put me off my dinner. I'm sorry to ramble just don't even click on things by The Atlantic about covid. It's a slop shop, the South Park of American opinion journalism.

[ak319]

Heyy! Omg I love your Arthur Morgan series so much I’ve reread it so many times alr haha

Here’s an idea/request if your interested 🫶🏽 so this takes place right after part three and reader is getting sick of j doing chores all day and wants to study again to achieve her dreams so tries studying in secret and gets caught? Feel free to alter/add whatever u like 🫶🏽

💌TYSM Ritaa! *HUGGIES*, loved to hear that! Hope you enjoy reading this one too!

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

Wiping the sweat from your brow after chopping vegetables for Pearson, you decided to slip away for a moment’s rest and a quick drink of water. As you sat down, your mind raced through the endless list of chores left to tackle: sorting supplies, feeding the horses-

“(Y/n)! Get your ass here for a minute!”

A sigh escaped before you could stop it. What does he want now?

“Yes… Arthur?”

Without looking up from his journal, he handed you a shirt. “Button’s broken.”

Great. Again?.

“Right.” You mumbled, taking and inspecting it. Unluckily, your disinterest was too evident for him to miss.

Arthur’s gaze lifted from his journal, confusion mixing with mild irritation. “Right what? Fix it.”

“Do you... have to wear it today?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fix it. And wash it too.” He didn’t wait for your answer as you nodded, already bracing for yet another chore.

At this rate, my hands are going to look ancient by the time I’m 30 from all this washing.

You turned to leave, only for his voice to follow you. “Also, bring some coffee.”

“Arthur, don’t drink so much coffee all the time. It’s bad.”

From his cot, he glared, unamused. “What, you a doctor now? It’s only my second cup today.” Before you could respond, Dutch called him over, and he stood, striding off with a parting command, “It should be on the table when I get back.”

Grumbling, you turned to make the damn coffee.

He’ll get it, alright.

These were the times when you found yourself fervently wishing for your brother to get married just so you could be free from the burden of being his maid. But then again, would he even find a woman willing to endure a life like this? God, no, please, give him a wife. ASAP. But then again, you couldn’t help but pray for that unfortunate woman, too, because living here was no piece of cake. Do people even marry outlaws?

"...."

You shook your head and decided it was best to start on the coffee instead of rambling in your head.

⋆⋆⋆

Finally done with the day's work and free from Susan's watchful eye, you made your way to your tent and collapsed, face-first, into the pillow with a satisfied groan. You lay there, savoring the brief solitude, until a gentle throat-clearing sounded just outside your tent. The voice that followed caught you off guard. It was unmistakably Hosea’s soft, friendly tone.

You quickly composed yourself and stepped out to greet him.

"I wanna show you something. Come," he said with a smile, gesturing for you to follow. As he led you around the camp, you couldn't help but notice Arthur's horse was gone.

Thank God.

When you reached a quiet spot, he motioned for you to sit on an overturned crate beside him. "So, I gathered a few books here,” he said, a small stack beside him. “Annabelle mentioned you like reading, hm?"

"I--well..." Your voice faltered. How could you explain that after everything, your heart had shut itself off, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of cynicism? Arthur’s words echoed in your mind,

'Walking with empty dreams is useless. Lazy.'

The books felt like a window to something lost. They reminded you or maybe haunted you, of a past drenched in hope, of that rainy night when it all started to unravel.

"Well? Look, I'm gonna be honest with you," Hosea continued, his voice a comforting blend of seriousness and warmth. "You're a sharp girl, with a damn keen mind and a thirst for knowledge. So why waste your free time when you could read? I’ve got plenty of books you can borrow anytime you like."

You shifted, fiddling with your fingers. "No--I mean...thank you, really, but...it’s just..." The words caught in your throat, but you pushed on reluctantly. "Y'know...Arthur just...doesn’t… I don’t know how he’ll--"

"React?" Hosea let out a knowing chuckle. "Who says he has to know? Read when he's not around, it’s simple. And what’s his deal with you reading, anyway?"

"It’s not like he’s ever said anything specific, but..." You sighed. "I think he worries...that somehow the books will make me cling to the past. And honestly, what’s even the point of reading, really, when this is all I have to look forward to? Living here… forever."

"Now, don’t talk like that." Hosea’s tone softened, his eyes filled with an almost fatherly concern. "We all have different lives and paths, our thoughts and dreams that’ll shape our futures. And I’d like to see you have a life outside of all this, one with more than just survival, you hear me? You think I don’t want that for you? Sometimes I even think about it myself when Dutch is... well, being Dutch." He grinned, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the shared understanding.

"Also, don’t go thinking that being a girl can stop you," he added with a wink. "So… whaddaya say?" He waved the book enticingly in front of you, and any resistance you had left melted away.

"Sure. Thanks a lot, Hosea."

"No problem. And don’t you worry about Arthur, okay?" You nodded, cradling the book close as you slipped back to your tent. The weight of its worn pages in your hands felt like a secret gift. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

⋆⋆⋆

It was just another day when you finished your chores and when you were sure Arthur had gone hunting, you settled into a secluded spot on the edge of the camp, your book propped on your lap, and lost yourself in the words, the outside world fading away.

That is, until someone snatched the book from your hands.

"Hey!" you shouted, startled.

"What’s this, oh, these damn boring books!" John, who was a year younger than you and had a knack for finding you when you least wanted to be found, held the book out of reach with a mischievous grin.

"Can’t you just play with me instead sometimes? I swear I’m so bored these days!" His voice was grating, and you could feel your irritation rising.

You lunged forward to snatch the book back, but he leapt backwards, a teasing spark in his eyes.

“John! This isn’t funny! I’m not free like you all day, alright? I do actual work around here, not out there trying to shoot a rabbit and missing every time, and now I’m relaxing, so stop being a jerk! Hosea would be mad if he found out you messed with his book!”

“Of course, the oldie is your tutor,” he laughed, clearly unfazed. “How about we do something that makes both of us happy? I get to play, and you get your book back.”

Gritting your teeth, you feigned a serious demeanor. With a quick breath, you lunged at him again, your frustration bubbling over. John’s playful stance told you he was ready for a chase, and before you knew it, you were darting after him, laughter bubbling up despite your annoyance.

As much as you wanted to giggle and enjoy the thrill of the moment, there was a lingering fear at the back of your mind, what if Arthur returned early? The last thing you wanted was to be caught in a childish game when he expected you to be responsible.

"JOHN! COME BACK! DON’T GO TOO FAR!" you shouted, but he ignored you, running toward the small lake that fringed the camp. You had no choice but to follow him, anxiety bubbling up inside you, not just from the chase, but from the thought of losing that book. It wasn’t just some random novel, it belonged to Hosea, and you couldn’t let him down.

“Here, take it!” John taunted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he threw the book into the lake.

“JOHN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, your frustration boiling over as you watched the book sink beneath the surface.

“GO GET IT! HURRY!” You shouted, while John stood reveling in his victory.

“I don’t know how to swim!” He shot back.

“FUCK YOU!” But you knew you couldn’t let Hosea down. You couldn’t let that book be lost.

With a determined breath, you dove into the lake, plunging into the cold water. Your heart raced as you fought against the initial shock, remembering the few basics your dad had taught you when you were ten. You focused on the glimmering book sinking just out of reach and swam deeper, stretching your fingers to grab it. That's when John realized that maybe he went too far and kept calling your name.

Finally, you managed to wrap your hand around the damp cover. Kicking off the bottom, you propelled yourself upward, gasping for air as you broke the surface, the book clutched tightly to your chest.

"(Y/N)...I am sorry..." He stammered when he saw the look of absolute rage on your face. He knew he was going to be dead if he got in your hands.

The moment John took off toward camp, you bolted after him, fury blazing in your chest. He’s going to pay for this, you clutched the soaked book tightly in one hand and narrowed the gap between you. You could hear his frantic apologies as he dodged between trees and crates, but you weren’t letting him off so easily. This time, he had gone too far.

As the camp came into view, you spotted Arthur’s towering figure near the fire. He was leaning against a post, arms crossed, a dark look already on his face as his eyes landed on John racing toward him with you close behind.

“Oh, shit…” you murmured under your breath, your heart pounding even faster. You slowed your pace, watching as Arthur’s expression shifted from mild irritation to intense, unfiltered anger. John stopped short, nearly tripping over himself as he came to a halt in front of Arthur, his face pale.

“Arthur--uh-- I was just--we....” Arthur cut him off, his voice low and deadly calm. "What? Messin’ around, huh?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, shifting to you, drenched and clutching the wet book. His voice dropped into a growl. He directed a sharp glare at John. “Looks like more’n that to me.

John’s face drained of colour. “Um-we were just--playin'” he started backing away under Arthur’s icy stare, but Arthur grabbed him by his ear and pulled him closer, making John let out a burning wince.

“Listen here, you little idiot,” Arthur snapped, taking a step closer until John practically shrank under his gaze. “You ever pull somethin’ like this again, you’re gonna find yourself missin’ a few teeth, you understand me? Stay away from her.”

John nodded frantically, too scared to speak, and when Arthur jerked his head in a silent order to leave, John took off like his life depended on it.

Arthur’s eyes turned to you, his face darkening. His gaze swept over your soaked clothes, the way you clutched the dripping book like it was something precious, and his jaw clenched.

“Care to explain why you’re drenched head to toe?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation.

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “I…just wanted to get the book back.”

Arthur raised a brow, unimpressed. “And what the hell were you doin’ with it in the first place?”

You stammered, caught off guard, and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, grabbing your arm firmly, pulling you closer. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sneakin’ around to read like a fuckin princess,” he muttered, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief. “That why you’re makin’ trouble?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already fuming. Before you could get a word out, his grip tightened, and he gave you a hard, reprimanding shake. “You think jumpin’ in the damn lake’s a smart idea? Riskin’ yourself over some dumb book!? Are you fucking serious?”

“Arthur, it’s not-” you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a sharp slap across the cheek, the force of it blurring your mind for a few seconds, sending a shock through your whole body. You touch your cheek, trying to keep the hurt off your face and shield yourself from another one.

“You’re makin’ my life harder with this reckless nonsense, thought' I made it clear that there ain’t no use for fillin’ your head with fantasies out here. You need to learn what’s important here. Don’t forget your place. Also told you to not wander off! There are all sorts of dangers out there!”

Your voice was broken but you still managed to retort, "It's...not just fantasies...why can't you get it-" He threw the book from your hands, irked.

“Watch it,” he snarled, gripping your chin with bruising force, his face close, dark eyes simmering with anger. “You think I got time for this nonsense? Next time you got free time, you spend it doin' somethin’ useful, not messin’ around in places you don’t belong.”

But before he could go any further, Hosea’s voice sliced through the tension like a whip. “Arthur! Enough!” Hosea’s tone was sharp, urgent, as he stepped forward, grabbing Arthur’s arm and prying him back. “Have you lost your damn mind? Let her be!”

Arthur jerked back, breathing heavily as he let go, his jaw tight with frustration. He shot you a look that still held that smouldering fury but kept silent under Hosea’s watchful gaze. The older man placed a protective hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, his face set in a firm, disappointed scowl as he looked at Arthur.

“This isn’t how we treat our own,” Hosea said quietly, the warning clear in his voice.

"I will treat her however I want, so shut it, old man! She jumped in the fucking lake for a damn book!" He turned back to you. "If I ever catch you slackin’ off with one of these again, or doin' such stupid stunts, there’ll be hell to pay. You hear me?" You nod quickly, too scared to even meet his gaze, swallowing back any retort.

He muttered under his breath and turned sharply, stalking off into the woods, leaving you standing there, shaken but grateful for Hosea’s intervention.

“You alright?” Hosea’s voice softened, his eyes filled with concern as he watched Arthur disappear.

Though your throat felt tight, you nodded as your hands still clung to his coat. “Hm.”

“Don’t let him get to you, you do a lot more around here anyway, more than anyone I would say,” he murmured. “He...he's just afraid. But you...don't have to be."

You tried to smile through your tears, though the sting of Arthur’s slap still lingered, and you knew it would for days to come.

Hosea gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder, noticing the way your gaze lingered on the soaked book. “I see the book’s wet, but it’s alright. There are plenty. I’ll buy this one again for you.” His tone was warm, reassuring. “Now, go change before you get sick.”

You managed a small nod, before hurrying to the privacy of your tent. As soon as you stepped inside, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you. You sank onto the cot, clutching the damp fabric of your clothes, and let the tears fall, the frustration and anger pouring out in muffled sobs.

Everything, Arthur’s fury, John’s reckless prank, the guilt over Hosea’s book, hit you all at once. The tent felt like the only safe space at that moment, the only place where you didn’t have to hold back. Perhaps, it's better if you don't read, maybe Arthur is right...but Hosea's hopeful words rang in your mind. You buried your face in the pillow, letting out everything, all the confusion, anger and pain that was clawing you from inside, draining yourself.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

hi! so I saw a reddit post a few days ago about a dead aasimar (Omar) who can be found in the House of Healing - but what was interesting is that they said it was *his* wings Balthazar took for Marcus. I always thought they were Aylin's wings; isn't there a line about how Balthazar experimented on her early on, or Isobel reacting to the wings/realizing what Balthazar did, something like that? or did I imagine that? I would love to hear your take on this! (I don't know if I can send links in asks, but it's r BaldursGate3/comments/1gxo0tm/)

Oh, hey! It's Olam the Dead Aasimar Harper, my own personal favourite basically nonexistent NPC to shower with utterly disproportionate levels of attention! He's the guy I brought up in the final part of Moon-chosen, Moon-guided, who Aylin hears about and then really wants to retrieve and give a proper burial to. Entirely because of my aasimar fixation and because I love playing around with Aylin being an aasimar but also absolutely not being a regular aasimar, and how she'd feel about others both like and unlike her.

Olam is indeed the only other aasimar in the game. I love the little story we get told there, via one journal and one note, and one fight against a special animated armour.

The full text of his journal aka "a chilling account of an aasimar Harper's final tendays in the cursed lands" is here, and I find it a really nice bit of writing and an insight into that period - piecing together all these little bits and pieces about what happened to the Thorms and Reithwin and the armies on both sides is my favourite part of the game. Act 2 my beloved.

'All beings should walk free of fear', I was taught. Oh, if only were I granted such a fine fate.

So, Olam is a Harper who fought against Ketheric a century ago, and was there when the curse first happened. He was some kind of spellcaster (his insistence on research and experimentation screams wizard, to me) and he had an affectionate bird familiar called Corvin, presumably a raven. In his experimentation and efforts to lift the shadow curse, he accidentally animated his own armour, which you can fight in that acid pit area. But he ultimately failed, and then he succumbed to the shadows, alone. Tragic stuff, right?

You've activated my trap card! By which I mean I saw that post, saw videos of "you won't believe this NPC you missed!!!" go viral, saw people take it as gospel and start parroting misinformation about a very specific fandom interest of mine again, and got so frustrated I almost started posting WELL ACTUALLY Reddit comments. Horrifying.

Instead I get to ramble here! Thank you so much for providing an excuse (genuinely). It's kind of like the oathbreaker/disowned by her mother nonsense, people just can't seem to leave Aylin alone and let her have any of her actual damn story beats and themes and it grinds my gears. And just like the Child of the Moonmaiden stuff, someone has already added it to the BG3 wiki with zero sources, and now it's spreading like wildfire based on absolutely nothing. What a glorious microcosm of our reality.

Salt aside, thank you for the question! Let me actually answer it, and dig out exactly what is in the game itself.

TL;DR: While nobody looks at the camera and says as much, I'm convinced the wings are Aylin's, and that Balthazar had nothing to do with this guy.

First of all, and my simplest point: regular 5e aasimar don't actually have physical wings. One subtype of them (or, more recently, one of their three once-per-day "transformation" options) gives you this:

You can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing your eyes to glimmer and two luminous, incorporeal wings to sprout from your back.

Two luminous, spectral wings sprout from your back temporarily.

This lasts for a whole minute, and then you have to long rest to do it again. Of course, BG3 plays around with 5e rules and adapts them as needed, and there's no actual BG3 aasimar set of racial abilities implemented in the game. There's only Aylin who has the wings on by default, and there's our wingless boy of the hour, Olam - who is a corpse statted as "Human" if you right-click inspect him, so no help there. The only actual mention that he is supposed to be an aasimar comes from the description of his journal I quoted up there, and from the inspiration popup that some character backgrounds get when you find him (Sage and Acolyte, to be specific).

On a personal note, as a player of aasimar characters who've died by being thrown from great heights after having used up their wings for the day, believe me when I say I am deeply envious of whatever Aylin has going on in the wings department. She makes them appear and disappear in a flash at will and it's very cool. I love it. There's a special graphical overlay of feathers fluttering down all over your screen sometimes when she's around. I am enamoured.

Next, in the Marcus confrontation, Isobel doesn't give any signs of recognising the wings, nor does she comment on them specifically - she's shocked by Marcus' betrayal as he's been with them for a long time and nobody ever suspected a thing. I checked the dialogues/devnotes to see if there's anything else there, and there isn't. It's delicious angst material, certainly, the implications are deeply horrifying, and several people have written about it, me included, in tumblr posts and in fics, so you've probably seen the idea around a bunch. Not in the game itself, though.

Moving on, here's the full text of Balthazar's note you can find in Moonrise, titled "A Little Gift":

Marcus - I assume no explanation is needed for just how rare these appendages are, and I trust you shall make good use of them. You have a golden opportunity to please the General. Do not squander it. Access to the unwilling donor has proven difficult since the harvesting, but if I am afforded the opportunity, I shall pass along your gratitude. B.

This is pretty much it with regards to the wings explicitly. Speak With Dead on Marcus doesn't give anything related to the wings either. The only other thing is a little exchange between Z'rell and Marcus at Moonrise if his mission was a success, part of a series of little dialogues where she keeps rebuffing him and his efforts to get his hard-earned "audience with the General":

Marcus: I am free to do more for the Absolute, Disciple. Anything. Z'rell: Would you cast yourself from the tower-top? Marcus: Of course. I have the Absolute's wings to catch me. Z'rell: Off you go, then. I've always wanted to try those ballistas.

Ah, Z'rell, always a delight.

Now, let's look at the relevant final line in Balthazar's note.

Access to the unwilling donor has proven difficult since the harvesting - Balthazar, the necromancer who makes dead pixie moonlanterns, does not have big problems navigating the shadow curse like the Harpers do. Thus, getting to a corpse in the House of Healing morgue a little ways away from Moonrise is not the access problem he's having, nor is it the bunch of zombies that stalk the place. Rather, it is that Shar is angry at Ketheric who betrayed her for Myrkul and is keeping him and his out of the Shadowfell. I've so often seen people rather bafflingly confused by why Balthazar needs the player's help getting to the Nightsong prison when he's the one who imprisoned Aylin there in the first place, and this is why. He tells you as much himself - for instance when you actually enter the Shadowfell:

Balthazar: It seems Shar bears a grudge against my master, General Thorm, and so sought to prevent me from entering in his name. Luckily, you were the perfect agent in helping me slip past her defences. Now the Nightsong is within reach.

As for the unwilling donor bit, and your question of whether there is a line about how Balthazar experimented on Aylin early on - not really? He calls her "his masterpiece" a bunch and loves objectifying her in very specific and gross ways. There's again no mention of wings specifically, but what they do say is he cut out her tongue at least once before:

Nightsong: Ramblings most unsane. Poor Balthazar, for maggots ate his brain long ago. Balthazar: Hold your tongue, Aylin. Or I'll take it away from you again.

They make it so very easy to hate the guy - and agree with Aylin when she says her "heart lit like a full moon when you struck down that cadaver". Here is all the overworld banter you can hear from them, which fleshes out their relationship a bit more. Shocking spoiler: Balthazar is revolting.

Balthazar: As much as I savour our conversations, it's high time we got started. Nightsong: Do what you will. I cannot prevent you. But you know as well as I, I will come for you. One day. Balthazar: Poor child, so enthralled by gory revenge fantasies. You may find yourself disappointed by reality. Nightsong: Let us find out.

Nightsong: Someone's coming. Another Justiciar, I presume. Balthazar: Do you hunger for more company? Am I not enough to keep you sated? Nightsong: I'd [rather] live a thousand years in solitude than lay my eyes [upon] thy putrid visage again. Balthazar: Only a thousand?

Nightsong: Hatred makes you so hideous, Balthazar. Balthazar: Unkind, Aylin. Unkind and incorrect - I could never hate my masterwork. Nightsong: Perhaps you're right - perhaps you're incapable of feeling at all. Balthazar: Please, Aylin - spare me. Your insults grew tired and shopworn years ago.

Balthazar: How long has it been so far? With my work, time just slips away from me. Nightsong: A hundred years. Balthazar: A mere interlude for the likes of you and I. But nevertheless, perhaps it is time for a new chapter. Nightsong: Do as you will. You can pierce my flesh, but my heart beats on, forever.

There's also a tidbit if you ask Aylin how come all it took to release her from the prison was a friendly hand on her shoulder, and she'll tell you Balthazar "taunted and cajoled" her about how easy it would be to break the spell, if anyone just thought to try. So considering all of this, you bet he'd just love to "pass along gratitude" to Aylin and tell her alllll about how they used her own stolen wings to kidnap Isobel, of all people.

So basically, yeah, Balthazar is the one who's been in the Shadowfell prison most often, before Ketheric's relatively recent turn to Myrkul and Shar barring the way in response. We're given the above general vibes and implications of what he was doing there, and the rest is left up to our own gory imaginations. As Gale put it:

A dismal place for an aasimar to spend her existence. Especially with that necrotic toad for company.

There is no connection between Olam and Balthazar at all in the game, but there is one connection between Balthazar and the House of Healing - a negative one, notably.

You find Olam in the morgue of the House of Healing, which is Malus Thorm's stomping ground. It is his laboratory and research notes you find there, not Balthazar's. Malus complains in those very same notes found there that he gets the dregs of cadavers to experiment and mess around with because his nephew Ketheric is letting his Evil Chancellor Traytor Balthazar get first pick and keep the best for himself.

So no, Balthazar did not experiment on this guy or "harvest" anything. Olam is a fairly regular Harper who we can imagine may have lasted a bit longer in the necrotic curse because as an aasimar he'd presumably have necrotic damage resistance and the ability to cast light. He's been dead for about a century, and that's about it.

Aylin is the one the note clearly points to, and, setting aside all the crunchy mechanical and nitpicky details about who does or doesn't have wings and for how long, on every meta and storytelling and textual and subtextual and thematic and classically tropey level, Aylin is the only relevant person those wings could (and should) have come from. It is evocative, it is part of the chilling tale of her betrayal and captivity and serves to paint a vivid picture of the depths Ketheric and Balthazar have sunk to, as well as make Aylin's immense rage and desire for vengeance all the more visceral - and ultimately satisfying.

[colorfullyminded]

Talking with a friend about Hunter!Wirt (Pinescone Addition)

@vacz told me to tag them, so here we go. These are some of the more innocent things we talked about-- thank you @xovera-toz for listening to my rambles as usual.

• Not gonna lie-- Dipper matches his freak. Like that boy is curious, pen at the ready, new journal to jot down all the data about Hunter!Wirt and the unknown. Wirt is a little flattered to be the sole subject of a journal, and tends to find himself curled up near Dipper, looking over his shoulder, or head in lap as Dipper writes his daily findings.

•Some of the things Dipper has noted. "Has a habit of Biting. Painful, but also followed by apology licking/grooming. I'm embarrassed to admit I enjoy this more than I should" "Is possessive-- but I once put a hit on a man, so I'm not one to talk" This one was directly from @xovera-toz: Wirt's nonexistent tail wagging because he saw Dipper writing "affectionate" in his journal page

"Watership Down/Monty Python Bunny. Looks innocent/is feral underneath... but also Looks Dangerous/Is Shy and Sweet underneath."

"He's a Freak :heartpulse: :heart: :two_hearts:"

"Very nice to snuggle With-- though tends to not let me leave once he's comfortable" "Scared of abandonment and rejection. Will take a lot of time and patience and trust to work through-- I have my Work cut out for me." "Has threatened to disembowel me if I leave...turned it in my favor (No I will not elaborate) ^((A/N: I can actually elaborate-- but it's a little more mature))

• In most of my Pinescone, my Ford has beef with Wirt for no other reason that it makes me laugh, and Ford being overly suspicious of Wirt (cause my Wirt can be a bit of a sneaky bun bun), as well a critical because he just wants the best for Dipper (even though Wirt is the best. It's a long process of Ford warming up to Wirt-- the way Ford acts around Wirt, is the way Wirt acts around Jason Funderberker). But in this au, now Hunter!Wirt is more dangerous-- more deranged. A lot more aggressive, and it's openly on his sleeve. He actually can hurt Dipper (and has in his excitement/affection). Ford: How could you date something so unstable!? What could be possibly going through your head! Where did this come from? Dipper: (looking at Ford, knowing this man dated Bill Cipher) ...Gee, I wonder....

• Despite sometimes the uncertainty, or stability of Wirt, Dipper can also see underneath he's just a scared boy, desperately trying to be a good brother-- and you know Dipper has a soft spot for good sibling figures. Even though he's aware Greg isn't in the lantern-- he plays along. Example: Wirt waking up and finding Dipper reading to 'Greg' He was only supposed to nap-- he didnt want to be weak and vulnerable-- didn't want to leave his back turned. He woke up frazzled, and panicked-- turning to look for Dipper, expecting him to be gone, or trying to kill him in his sleep. Instead he finds Dipper reading to 'Greg', showing the lantern his journal as he talks about all he's uncovered about his brother.

• Dipper braids Wirt's hair like he learned how to do with Mabel, sometimes putting flowers in it, as he whispers praises and gentle words of comfort. (Mabel has also done a few different hairdo's with Wirt's long mane-- Wirt often feels like a small dog getting fluffed up in those moments, whereas with Dipper it's a little more relaxing with someone who matches his anxiety).

• The both aren't the biggest fans of baths, but they work through it together, Dipper often guiding Wirt into the bath, and usually distracting each other, by talking for hours. They both end up a little prune-y, and a little cleaner-- even if the water is a bit swampy when they get out.

• ((Slightly more suggestive for older Pinescone)): Hunter!Wirt: W-what if I lose control? What if I bite you? What if I I tear you apart in a frenzy? Dipper: ...promise? Hunter!Wirt: !!!! ??? (Not sure how to feel about that reaction)

• Housewife Dipper helping to make this cabin a home, as he softly studies Wirt and the unknown, while balancing the usual ups and downs that comes with his field of intrigue. He's a lot like Jane from Disney's Tarzan. Fascinated-- a bit afraid, but more willing to learn and understand. And the more he does- the more endeared he becomes.

((And those are some of the ideas-- I haven't even gotten into the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde au portion, but let me know if you want to hear more?))

I'm a little flustered after everything-- I hope you enjoy >///<

[altis-of-olympia]

Hello, traveler, and welcome to my devotional blog. I'm a Hellenic Polytheist of 9+ years and a Priest in Training for King Zeus Horkios, Watcher of Othas. You may call me Altis. I use any pronouns.

On this page, you will find a variety of content, such as:

A few rambles about my practice, the community, politics, anything that passes my mind that I feel so inclined to discuss. If you do not like politics or do not enjoy political discussion, you do not have to interact with such posts! They will be labeled at the start with a political warning in case they make you uncomfortable. (#Ramblings of Altis)

Lessons and teachings are based on things I know, things that have been requested, and things that I feel are not taught as much as they should be. (#Teachings of Altis)

Journals about my Priesthood training, updates on this process and how things are going, as well as tasks and assignments I have been given by the King. (#Altis's Training)

General updates on my practice and rituals - as of right now, rituals aren't their separate category. (#Practice of Altis)

Everything will be marked with a proper header, like the one on this post.

Now, for the fun facts about me.

This is not my main blog. @light-of-delphi is not my main blog either, but it's more popular and central. I won't be posting on that one as frequently, now that my path has changed and I'm walking a different road. Consider this blog a new chapter!

I specialize in divination with tarot cards, pendulums, coins, and dice. I have strong clairaudience (hearing the divine), and I still have plans of becoming an Oracle of some kind for the Gods.

I am a Cancer Sun, Capricorn Moon, and Scorpio Rising.

I am a lover of philosophy, art history, ancient history and civilizations, and art, with a special interest in the Italian Renaissance, Classical civilizations, and the French Revolution.

I have very strong views - I do not care if your views align with mine. They do not have to, so long as you're respectful about it. If you respect my views, I shall respect yours as well.

I run a 15+ server dedicated to the education on Oathsworn paths. You can find that here.

I sincerely hope none of this came off as intimidating - I am not meant to be intimidating. My status as a Priest in Training for King Zeus does not make me better than anyone, above anyone, or more important than anyone. We're all equals, here. Titles don't change that.

I am beyond open to novice practitioners interacting with my page, as I strive for education and learning! I love teaching and my inbox is always open for questions, comments, concerns, and a little bit of guidance whenever needed. Though, as I am an adult, I will not be going out of my way to dm with or private message minors. If there is any indication that you are a minor, I will not be responding to your dms or inboxes. Feel free to leave an ask instead. This is for my online safety and comfort as well as yours.

I look forward to bonding with you all, Xaire!

~ Altis

Updated on: 2/27/2025

[noodle-made-a-mistake]

A short list of things that bother me about the Magisterium canon:

Forgive me in advance for rambling, I have to get these thoughts out of my brain lmao (also it's been a couple years so correct me if I'm wrong! (I really hope I’m wrong on some of these :’) )) Spoilers ahead obviously!

● The lack of Calron :(

● Not taking the opportunity to develop Tamara's character and keeping her static until she's randomly just different. Strong female characters aren't just skilled and perfect until their one flaw (usually it's having feelings like any other human being) is revealed shockingly (that's just sloppy characterization), they should be crucial to the plot and not overlooked in favor of developing other characters (from what I remember she literally was my favorite while reading the series until she just got annoying (??) after a while, of course that could just be because the story is told through Call's perspective but still)

● The entire school system that I need more info on bc it sounds so unthought out and not like something that has existed for hundreds of years

● The forceful nature of making people serve as masters?? That makes no sense? Like, “Congratulations on not dying during your schooling or in the war(s), your prize is forced labor 👍.”

● Also THE COLLEGIUM WAS MENTIONED AND NEVER ELABORATED UPON

● TGT. Least favorite book. Get out. Tgt truthers how do you do it??

● The Maugris plot twist. It destroys the meaning behind the past four books. It's just so uncalled for and frankly just sloppy ig? I love the idea in a way, but only if it's foreshadowed from the beginning. Also I'm too attached to the complicated dynamic of Alastair raising his possible ex-bestie for it to end up like that

● The fact that the iron trio is out of school for half the series, I'd like to know what's normal, y'know??

● THE LACK OF ELABORATION ABOUT THE FIRST GEN I WANT TO KNOW MORE I HAVE TO KNOW MORE

● They did my man Constantine especially wrong, give him some ✨️character✨️ aside from E V I L and problematic (trademark) and charming (???)

● AND ALASTAIR GOD TELL ME MORE?? He's characterized as distant and obviously traumatized with his hate of his magic involved past but I just need to know what that past was like. Like who was he before his dead wife syndrome?? Idk but I'd of liked any excuse to know more about it just so I can understand him more??

● Please give me a single character trait of Declan's?? Like he was mentioned a handful of times and that's all we got. He was just some guy and I am hating it !!

● And Sarah. Like. She was a mom and liked peace as a concept but she also made a cool ass knife. That's a lot of things left up for interpretation. And I know Call wasn’t allowed to ask questions for plot reasons but god i wish he had more information about his own dead mother for Christ's sake

● Also other than a victim, who was Jericho? I need to know who this kid who drew scribbles in the margins of his very important journal while writing about how he was slowly being killed was. What was his relationship really like with his brother if he was so scared to say that he was dying or what gave him the impression that he didn't care?? It's fascinating and I need him under a microscope immediately

● Also the lack of queer representation until the last two books. AND THEN IT WASN'T EVEN ANY OF OUR MAIN CAST. Literally the saddest L ever :(

● AND AARON WAS NEVER CONFIRMED QUEER LIKE WHAT THE FUCK JUST L O O K AT HIS CHARACTER AND INFACT ALL OF OUR CORE CAST IS AT LEAST BI LIKE C O M E O N (ik they're like kids but even I knew I was not straight when I was like 11 and i lived in the most conservative non-LGBTQ-friendly town known to man)

● Low key, callmara was so bad, like I love them but not the way it happened, horrible set up. Tamara deserved so much better and to not have her entire character destroyed by becoming a love interest. I wish they thought about her as an independent character instead of the means to implement a romantic subplot in tgt, they did so good in the first books with that

● Also there's no elaboration on what chaos is. It's the mystical 5th element. Wow! Let's go girl, give us nothing! You'd think that if Makaris were so exceptionally rare and special that we'd get some explanation on how they come to be and what it is exactly that they can control but we're just left to assume it's the special "chosen one" type of thing. Idk it bothers me for some reason :/

That's just off the top of my head and it's been years since I read the series all the way through (I should do a reread soon). For the most part I adore this funky series and I hate to bash it but I felt the need to ramble about it's shortcomings because I'm not crazy, right?? It had so much potential! Anyway, I'm sort of glad for the blanks in the story despite complaining about them because it leaves room for fics and fan interpretations that I always love to see, but on the other hand, I'd like for the story to feel finished and not like a last minute science fair project.

Thanks for sticking around for my late night rambling lmao

[plutorine]

on lizaveta nikolaevna (demons)

— some supplementary notes / new knowledge i've picked up about liza; a bit of a ramble-y essay. may contain spoilers.

so i finished demons around late december of last year, and much like what i did after i finished crime and punishment, i went on to hunt for some journal articles about demons. i like doing that to refresh my knowledge on what i just read and clarify some themes that i might have glossed over. something i noticed was the lack of articles about liza tushina — i really wanted to understand her character some more, so i was bemoaning the scarcity of articles written about her (most of the ones i've come across are usually about stavrogin) on my private twitter account.

BUT. but. i did some more digging and found instead an article about dasha. i fully expected it to tackle her character only, but i was surprised to see that liza was mentioned several times in it.

i've always thought about the significance or the "rationale" of liza's character in demons. i thought about her a lot even after i've read the book, and i was always trying to figure out what dostoevsky could be possibly communicating to his readers through her. the general idea that i got (after weeks of Thinking Really Hard) is that liza's somehow a counterpart (i'm using this very loosely here) of stavrogin's being the disconnected, westernized russian man.

in the article i mentioned, liza is described as such:

in comparison to dasha:

as we know, liza is not above displaying her emotions; she also doesn't hold back especially when there's something she wishes to say. by dostoevsky's standards, liza is a "westernized" woman, too — she's passionate, assertive, and progressive, not at all like his otherwise "meek" female characters (e.g. dasha in this case; sonya from c&p) who embody the traits of a Good Christian Girl™️

another interesting point i want to touch on is liza's poor health / sickly disposition. there's a passage where the narrator says that liza rides around town according to the doctor's advice. additionally, we know that she's prone to hysterics / having fits. apart from a physical sense, i think this can also be understood as a "spiritual sickness", or at least a kind of vulnerability, which made her susceptible to the temptations of the moral bloodsucker that is stavrogin. she succumbs to temptation, she sins, and she buckles under the weight of her sin.

a little off tangent but the article i'm referencing here also talked about how this sickly-ness of liza is like that of stavrogin; it's something born out of her social class. it's why she holds much contempt towards dasha — liza thinks it's outrageous that she has to compete with a "serf-wench" for stavrogin's attention. it also explains why she thinks that marya lebyadkina can't possibly be her other rival, because she's outside her circle / way below the social status ladder, and therefore does not exist to her and is not a valid candidate as another rival for stavrogin's attention.

whew. anyway, that's it. i've wanted to make a longer post about this because i can only write so much on twitter, and because i've always been fascinated with liza ever since i finished the novel. please don't take this as me hating her — much like the other characters, she's got her own flaws that should be acknowledged alongside her strengths. this is simply me looking back on what i've read and making it make more sense to myself.

also, if you're interested in reading the article for yourself, this is the title:

if for any reason you don't have access to this / can't access it, feel free to send me a dm and i can email you a copy of it ^^

[adarssuggestionbox]

A Dreamy Encounter

Today I spoke endlessly with Celebrimbor about what to do for the angry humans in my community. My inner spring was coiled so tightly I could barely handle myself… my thoughts were in a state of constant collision, while my eyes found it hard to stay focused.

*My mind recalls how sweet Brimby looked at me*

-Flashback-

*A close up of my flustered demeanor is stone cold and quite unerving*⬇️

Perhaps he didn't notice? *I am completely oblivious of how intimidating I can appear when I'm flustered and nervous*

Still I pressed on by sharing with him my thoughts regarding bees and how my community, outsiders, and even the bees themselves could benefit from my plans. He seemed very interested in assisting me with this venture, despite my past infuriating behavior. *My heart yearns to go back for another visit*

I feel that speaking about this with him was a very good decision.

He offered me many creative solutions and alternatives that I could consider, some of which I never would have thought, that could work in conjunction with my ideas. I will most definitely need to journal about this later on. He was kind enough to have his scribe take notes on our conversation as well. I'll be looking at those scrolls later on. Though I should have wrote as soon as I had my ideas when they first came to me. Now I know better.

*I dreamily think of Celebrimbor again* His delivery of it all was encouraging to say the least. I had to deeply explain myself…. It made my heart wrench in shame with each word I spoke. However despite it all, he looked upon me kindly as I admitted the most atrocious things. I would have understood if I was to be turned away. Though, obviously this was not the case. *I sigh mid rambling feeling comfort fill me* I'm repeating myself…. *I pause looking into my cup of tea*

What happened after the meeting with him is far more dream-like than I imagined. *My face flushed deeply*

-I begin to get lost in another flashback-

Adar- I would like to thank you for gifting me the journal you had made and for being kind enough to see me today *I walk closer to him pulling a red ribbon from the pouch on my hip. It is the one from the basket of citrus fruits. With gentle claws I tie it into a lovely bow upon his wrist. Its rich red color stands out against his gorgeous green robes.*

*My cheeks flush ever so much*

Celebrimbor- Looks at my gift with confusion at first but then smiles at me in his usual kind way* Your very welcome, Adar.

Adar- *I smile softly feeling some of my tension leave. Despite it being such an insignificant thing I saw his eyes look upon it with joy anyway. My heart skipped happily in response. But the moment I feel soft, is the moment I feel the need to retreat.* Yes well… I suppose I ought to let you get back to your work. I'm sure you have pressing things to attend to. I appreciate you seeing me today. *I nod respectfully as I finally turn to walk away*

Celebrimbor- *With his ribbon tied side he reached forward to clutch my hand. Then gently gave it a tug.*

Adar-*I let out a soft startled sound. movements and touches outside of my line of sight always get me shaken. But I remind myself of who's presence I'm in.*He wouldn't dare do-….*I cut my thoughts off lest I want to ruin the moment with distasteful memories * He is kind. *I use that as a reminder instead. Then I turn to him. my chest tightens.*

Celebrimbor- *His whole demeanor softens further when he sees the uncertainty and nervousness in my eyes* Adar, I know you're trying. I and several others see it. Why don't you stay for tea before you venture home. we can share honey and bread too. *He giggled knowingly, his own pretty cheeks flushed.*

*My flashback halts as I feel myself begin to grow love sick*

*My entire face becomes red as I remember the tenderness of the encounter. His soft giggle, his cheerful voice, his gentle way of reading me like a book….*

That afternoon was utterly perfect… *I place a hand over my heart. I feel too emotional to continue my tale at the moment*

Ask me later if you like. I need a moment. *I speed off to my hut to be alone. a loud cat like pur emits through the walls. Anyone can likely hear it*

[pos-syscourse]

no hate, but how do you guys stay so positive all the time? We’re just so upset all the time and our health/neurodivergency (Autism, ocd, (suspected) bpd, etc) dosent make it better. We’ve been trying to “form” a kinder alter for that reason. Feel free not to answer this btw! Have a nice day, and stay safe! /gen

Hey!! Thank you for the ask.

I'm going to be honest; I'm not positive all of the time. I just try to keep this specific blog positive.

I'm very upset, about a lot of things. My autism (level 2 more and more often now) leads to me biting myself, hitting myself, lashing out and melting down. My DID makes me forget a lot of important things. The trauma I've experiences has compromised my immune system, so I'm frequently sick. The depression makes everything that much harder. Hell -- today I haven't even left my bed, beyond to use the restroom and once to get myself a drink.

But that's a perfect example right there. I can absolutely sit and wallow in my misery, beating myself up for not getting out of bed. And trust me, I've been there. But I just... I got so tired of feeling that way. I am so tired of it, because my brain still has these mental pathways telling me I should beat myself up.

So instead, when I get that impulse, I treat the impulse like a pissy little 14 year old who is being abused -- just like I was. I treat the impulse like a child who wants to make sense of the hurt and suffering I've experienced, because that helps me realize I need to be kind to that child, I'm not an asshole, I'm not about to be mean to a kid.

And really, a large part of my brain is still running on those neuropathways; a lot of me is still stuck in that trauma, whether I can realize it or not.

So... dear brain: I am so, so proud of you for going and getting liquid. That was such a huge step, especially when you're struggling. I wish people in your life would've recognized that more. And what do you mean, you've done nothing? You've already written 10k words today (no lie!!!) That's incredible! You might say the words meant nothing, because it was all journalling, but I see a lot of value in it.

... I'm not going to pretend it's easy. It's hard to reframe my thinking that way. But when I'm particularly exhausted, and particularly upset with myself, I think about the people around me. Do they want to be around the shitty 14 year old? Do I want that? No. I want to help that 14 year old feel better so that I can be the 27 year old I am.

And thinking of it that way, and trying it out for a few years, I realized how much better it felt to love myself.

I'm not perfect. I'm still struggling a lot with positivity, and not falling too deep into being toxic with it. But a simple, daily post, where people all over tell me they really appreciate my posts? Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. :)

I hope any of that made sense. I've been on a writing kick today, rambling all over the place, so hopefully this was coherent!

[divorcedfiddleford]

Random but - if you were given an opportunity to rewrite Ford's character and his arc in the show (and later J3), how would it be like?

canon gay and trans

so the thing is that i think most of how ford himself is written is really really good! i just think that the writers (particularly alex) have a bias against him, and so a lot of the narrative ends up feeling like he's either being punished or being forced to atone for his past. so i'm gonna ramble and daydream for a bit but i want to be clear i actually really like how he's written in general (yes, even in the book that i have so much beef with!!)

there's very few moments of catharsis for him, and those that he gets are either short (reunion with fiddleford) or undermined by the writers' bias (the ending of journal 3 where he burns all his bill stuff but has to keep reminding us that he was stupid for trusting bill in the first place). so i think a lot of the problems i have would be resolved with tonal shifts and a few cuts, like that fucking scene in the stanchurian candidate with the mind control tie. the implication of reaganite ford is bad enough but then to have a guy who has very specific trauma relating to being mind controlled/not being in control of his own body just hand that over is really fucking stupid. then again i think that whole episode is stupid so i'd end up rewriting all of it lmao

i've said before but if i really had my way i'd cut roadside attraction entirely and replace it with another ford episode. i loved how goofy and fun dd&md was and i think if more of that lighthearted side of him was shown it would endear him to the audience more. a long time ago i had an idea for an episode where they go back to the bunker and ford basically does puppy talk to the shapeshifter who is actively trying to kill them. i never followed this idea through to its conclusion but i think it still sounds entertaining, plus it would also give more time for him to reunite with fiddleford so it wouldn't have to be squeezed in the finale.

speaking of the finale... my personal fantasy is that i'd love to have a scene stuck in there where stan apologizes to ford. it REALLY stood out to me that despite all their fighting, ford still at least says the words "i'm sorry" to stan. stan never apologizes for anything he did to ford - neither for breaking his project, nor for banishing him to the hell dimension for 30 years. i get that they were mistakes, but you still have to apologize for mistakes (and if i allow myself to get very self-indulgent for a second, i've often thought the whole story would be a lot more resonant if stan broke ford's machine on purpose). i had a whole section in here where i talked about what a scene like this would look like but it was so long... if people want to hear more about it i'll say more but it's the kind of thing that warrants its own post.

anyway. moving on from the show itself. so possibly my hottest take is that i think journal 3 should not have been published KJSHDFLGKHSDFGUIWEHRGJSDF. basically i think instead of trying to write the actual journal 3 they should have picked a handful of stories from his research era that they wanted to tell and made a graphic novel about that. i got WAAAAAAAYYYY off topic and wrote PARAGRAPHS about this but it's not related to the question you asked so i'll just summarize by saying i think it would play more to their strengths as writers, leave more to the imagination, and they could leave out all those fucking retcons that i hate

as it is, though, again, i think that ford is written pretty well in the journal. there are a few off-handed comments and lines that give me "he would not fucking say that" vibes but overall it very realistically portrays what it's like for someone to be manipulated, isolated, drawn away from his loved ones, etc. it's a very poignant story which resonated with a lot of people, myself included. again my main problem is that it's undercut with the writers being like "BROOOOO HE'S JUST LIKE ICARUS!! FLEW TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN!!!!!!!!" as though it's all his fault, and that it ends on a very moralizing "i learned my lesson" note. so really the biggest characterization problems i have with journal 3 have to do with fiddleford, but that's a whole other can of worms

anyway i hope this was... interesting? informative?? i hope i answered your question to your satisfaction. have a nice day :)

[quinloki]

Here we go! :3 Also my writing style replaces reader for dolucha which means reader in japanese just so you are aware. It’s not super good but like I said I just wanted to share it with you guys

Now Dokucha sat in the counter of the kitchen watching as Thatch about grabbing different ingredients and mixtures from the shelves

“Thatch I swear it was an accident”

“You really think I'm gonna buy that? That you poisoned my tea on accident?” he hums looking at the label of one of the bottles he had grabbed

“Was Marco finding you running towards one of our junior boats also an accident?”

They flinch at this; somehow, the relaxed and nonchalant way he was talking made it much scarier than when he was visibly fuming

They slowly began to lower themselves from the counter

“Listen, I-

“If you leave that counter, I promise you, Darling, things will be much worse for you,” he said, glancing at them from the corner of his eye

Their eyes widen at his silent threat, and they are quick to climb up again

Thatch grabs the bottle, and picks begins to move it around; his movements were slow and deliberate, but it was obvious he was furious.

"Now, just what were you planning to do, hmm?" he asks calmly.

“Nothing! Like I said, it was an accident!”

"You just accidentally grabbed poison and mixed it with my tea?" he asks calmly, still stirring the vial. He didn't even glance at Dokucha.

"Is that what you want to go with?Last chance."

“It’s the truth.”

“Is that so?” He said, grabbing a syringe from one of the drawers and filling it with the liquid in the vial

“Let’s find out then,” he stated walking towards them and taking hold of their arm

“What is that?!” They exclaim, trying to pull their arm from his grip

Thatch chuckles, pulling on their wrist a little harder.

“Let’s find out what really happened,” he said, holding the needle to their arm.

“Please…” they began to beg, trying to squirm away but not really putting in a fight. They knew there was no coming out of this.

-Timeskip-

They tried to remember what had happened, they truly did, but the last thing they were able to recall was Thatch injecting them with the liquid; after that, everything was hazy and confusing.

They seemed to be back on their bed; they tried to get up, but somehow their body would not move

Thatch sat beside them, as if nothing had happened.

He hummed a tune and began writing in his journal. He glanced at them and gave a bright smile.

"Don’t try so hard; you won’t be able to," he said, closing the journal and walking next to the bed

“Move. I mean, you probably won’t be able to speak either, but that’s okay, right, Darling? Seeing as what was coming out of your mouth was just lies, we might as well make sure nothing comes out of it for a while.”

They stared at him with widened and watery eyes, tears beginning to fall from their cheeks; at least, they thought so; they could barely register what was going around them anymore.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot the sodium thiopental can cause amnesia. Remember when I injected you with it before? It works as a truth serum, more or less; it makes you more suggestible. Or so Marco said,” he rambled, caressing their cheek

“It’s funny what people are willing to say when under it, see you told me all about how you got a particular type of poison and how you put it on my tea when I was not looking, funniest part is not once did you mention anything about accidents. “

No

They tried to open their mouth to try to tell him otherwise, to tell him it was an accident, but try as they may, no sound came out of them, and Thatch seem to have realized this as he threw them a dark smile their way

Thatch was almost giddy with his mischief.

“Aw, you should have listened to me from the start instead of playing coy,” he smirked, gently cupping their face

“You know, all of this could have been avoided if you had just come clean to me

But no, you just had to be stubborn. But that’s okay. We can improve that.

Ah, I almost forgot; the reason you can’t move right now is because I gave you a paralytic so that you can take some time and…think about your decisions; we wouldn’t want you to get distracted from your reflection by things such as moving and speaking.”

“Now, I’m going to grab some food and let you ‘think,’ okay?” He gives a small smile and starts to walk out of the room, glancing back at you once to make sure you couldn’t move and. Much to their horror, he switched off the lights and closed the door, leaving them to suffer in complete darkness

I love this

I LOVE it - the use of the word for reader as the placeholder name is an interesting take format wise, it feels like a name, but the name itself is just reader. To a native English speaker it has a solid feel.

I love that the conflict already happened. The tea was already tainted before we came into the story - we’re here to witness the aftermath. Short form stories are always hard for me because of that. But you bring this in really smooth.

The perspective is good too, there’s no “you” which is often the norm, but the use of “they” gives it a stepped back 3rd person vibe which works well with this given the later out of body feels of being drugged. I’m not saying one or the other is *better*, but intentional or not I like the choice here along with the rest of it.

And man, it’s so dark, but the weight of that darkness is all in the allusions. We don’t see the interrogation, but we can imagine the small terrifying details of it. Not being able to stop the truth from rolling off our tongues as we confess to our own undoing.

The punishment too, and the sense that there’s an established fear of darkness even if it isn’t wholly stated.

Thank you so much for writing this \o/ I’m glad to have played a part in inspiring it!!

[gengarartblog]

Not really phases of the incident but more like different concepts of what could have happened? These are mostly scrapped now but I figured I could post them since they were technically almost done. This is again leaning into the "what if Dalv was the Integrity SOUL's final boss fight" idea I had. Maybe if I figure this out I'll make a doodle page or something.

Ramblings below the cut for my thought process atm when it comes to me trying to figure out the timeline of events with the Snowdin Incident. Because I am fucking STRUGGLING with this one.

Enjoy the scrapped concepts and, if you read it, the rambling below the cut.

All I know that I have to work with is:

-Kanako was unharmed -Dalv was injured, bad enough to be traumatized by it. He's also aware of the integrity human dying. (He mentions that day just repeating for him, which is probably flashbacks.) -Chujin knows that Dalv was injured, and instead of comforting his daughter or helping Dalv, he sends Axis after the human only to arrive to an absolute mess of a scene when he finds Axis and the remains of the human.

So the first issue:

Did Chujin and Axis show up before the human ran? Chujin was told by the other Snowdin residents about the human and he definitely found Kanako and Dalv at least. I'm actually starting to lean towards him having not arrived before the human ran since Chujin mentions that Kanako had no one to protect her (technically incorrect, as Dalv was 100% there and likely would have been protecting her. BUT if he had died then she would have been next with no one to save her). This would mean that for Kanako to be unharmed and for Dalv to be still alive, one of three things had to have happened:

a. The human decided to spare Dalv. Maybe because they didn't want to kill in front of another child or because they just decided to spare Dalv after beating him up. They then ran to waterfall because that was the next area they needed to go to get to the castle, and had no idea that Axis would be following soon.

b. Dalv managed to deal enough damage that the human decided to flee. He does mention holding back against Clover, and he's one of few monsters that live long enough to speak a few sentences after a fatal hit (like Starlo, Ceroba, Papyrus, and Undyne to name a few examples, who are all stronger regular monsters). And as we've seen from Undyne, even regular monsters can hold their own against a human if they're protecting someone or something. Hell, with Undyne we even have to run from her to be able to spare her in UT. The problem with this is that Dalv mentions that he won't run away this time ("All I know is that somehow... you found me. Sorry to make things difficult but I'm not cowering away this time"). But I'm not sure if he means the snowdin incident or if he means when he ran away twice from Clover in the dark ruins. Because while he's mistaking Clover for the integrity human here, he did run away from them in the dark ruins. However the pillar fun value event has Dalv running away???

c. Dalv and Kanako ran when they had the chance. But then why did the human run to waterfall instead of just wiping out snowdin? Sure Dalv and Kanako could have been the last monsters the human encountered before waterfall, but then Chujin would have likely encountered the human before Dalv and Kanako did. Not only that but from the sounds of it, Dalv stuck around for a bit probably due to injuries since Chujin mentions that he should have stayed to help calm Kanako down and to help Dalv with his injuries.

So what the hell is the timeline of events here? Like. Was the human already past Snowdin and went backwards for some reason at some point? Maybe they found out what happened to some of the other humans and that upset them to the point where they started violently defending themselves? I dunno.

The second issue:

Who the hell is the "friend" that Dalv mentions in his journal that apparently "doesn't exist"? I'm guessing it's whoever was leaving the corn right? Maybe Kanako since he said it's been a year?

I have no idea. I'm gonna go back to trying to figure out more stuff and put a timeline together for this. See ya.