#this is about Mortal Follies

[cap-lu20]

When you're only halfway through a book and they already killed who you thought was the main villain:

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[cambracts]

i just want it stated on the record that when the opportunity arises, i'm absolutely going to roast raphael. he's more than earned it for the shit he pulls throughout the game

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

[cower-before-power]

Holy, Holy, Lover Divine

Pairing: Gale x Fem Reader

Summary: You've never felt worthy of praise, until it's Gale kneeling at your feet.

Warnings: Implied sexual content, religious imagery, Gale may get a bit blasphemous ha

Word Count: approx 1300

A/N: Just another little Gale ficlet because I love him so much and this idea has been in my head for ages. Thanks for reading!

In this moment, you feel divine.

The term has followed you around, exaltations such as “saviour”, or “goddess” leaving the lips of those you’d saved. But it had never felt right, never felt like such praise should be heaped upon a mere mortal. Right place, right time, is what you always assumed should be your words. A simple soul who simply had the means to do what needed to be done. Hardly god-like, hardly worthy of the celestial.

But here, in the privacy of your bedchamber, under the gaze of your beloved, you finally understand that you are holy.

“You are beautiful,” Gale breathes, dark eyes roving over your face, your body, “I swear, there is no more magnificent creature on this plane or any other.” You feel your skin heat beneath your new nightgown, a flimsy scrap of gossamer lace you’d chosen with him in mind. It seems to be well appreciated.

“Don’t let the gods hear such blasphemy,” you murmur, wanting to both further expose yourself to him as well as shyly hide away, “a few of them might disagree.”

Gale shrugs, and you watch the motion of his broad shoulders greedily. “Let them hear me. I no longer care what she….what any of them think of me, of who and what I devote myself to. That right was lost long ago.”

Your eyebrows raise, but you are not surprised. Magic may still be bound to a goddess, but your lover has long stopped bending a knee. Prayers are offered not out of love, but duty, necessity. He gives thanks for the Weave, for spells and knowledge. But he hungers for her treasures no more.

She has long lost his piety, and you do not complain.

“Oh?”, you say coyly, shifting so your gown slides further up your thighs. You do not miss Gale’s eyes following the movement intently, and your skin burns with want. “And what are you devoted to now, Gale of Waterdeep? Where does your worship lie?”

Gale strides towards you, slow and measured, like a cat waiting to pounce. You know what he will say, but you want to hear it all the same. You want to bathe in it, this new feeling of righteousness, of being the idol of such great love and passion. This man makes you feel as if you have wings on your back and a halo over your head.

You vow you will not squander it.

“I am in service of a new goddess now,” he says, and mirth twinkles in his lust-glazed eyes. Your lips quirk upward-your wizard of words is about display his prowess.

“This,” he gestures to the room you share, to the bed you’ve come together in more times than you can count, “this is my temple. The sacred place I give my humble sacrifices, make my loving prayers, pledge my undying service.”

He’s close enough to touch now, bare chest within reach of your gluttonous fingers. Before you can grasp what you crave, his catches your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press small kisses to your fingertips.

“These are my offerings,” he guides your hand to touch his temple, down to his chest, and further, further, until your finger brush over his desire. You whimper eagerly. “My mind, my heart and my body, all given freely and eagerly to please the one who has saved me time and time again from my own folly.”

He drops your hand and nudges your legs apart, sinking to his knees as he slots himself between them. You think you might combust with how hot the flame of passion is burning within you. Gale never fails to set you on fire from the inside out, but it seems tonight he aims to upstage himself.

“This is my altar,” his voice grows more sinful, his eyes even darker, “the place I will kneel in reverence eternal. Day after day, night after night, I will worship here, a thrall in my Lady’s service. For as long as she will have me.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your inner thigh. You mewl softly, threading your fingers through his silky hair. Encouraged by your ragged breaths, he roams the giving flesh freely, littering your thighs with warm, bruising kisses.

“These are my hymns, my canticles of homage. I will bestow them upon every inch of this heavenly flesh. As many and as often as my Lady allows."

A gentle, teasing kiss is placed over your smallcothes. You gasp and tug him closer, a spark of white hot pleasure shooting up your spine.

“Gale,” you beg, thinking you may just go mad from his teasing, his honeyed words. “Gale, please-“

But instead of continuing, Gale pulls back and surges upwards, capturing your mouth in a heady kiss. You delightedly take what you are given, groaning as his taste explodes on your tongue. You will never get enough of kissing him, you decide. Gale always kisses you like he’s trying to crawl inside of you. Like he's trying to merge not only your bodies, but your very souls as well.

It never fails to set you on fire.

“This is my baptism,” he pants as he breaks your kiss, fingers flexing on your thighs, barely concealed restraint pulled taught like a bowstring. “I am cleansed of my sins, my foolish ideals, my bitter and lonely existence. To feel my Lady's love and desire in every kiss, every touch, every time I am inside of her- it is to be born anew."

Gale does not stay parted from you for long; his lips soon find their way to your neck, his fingers brushing your sensitive skin reverently.

And you are drowning. You whine and whimper and mumble intelligible pleas as your lover ravishes you with lovebites and praises. You fingers tangle in his hair and you pull-the groan that rumbles from his throat nearly makes your eyes kiss the back of your skull.

“Let me worship you,” Gale moans into your skin, pushing the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. His mouth ghosts over the tops of your breasts. Gooseflesh rises in it wake. "Let me show you my supplication."

"As if you aren't already," you giggle breathlessly, falling back on the bed as Gale crawls over you. You welcome the heat of his body as it hovers above yours, close but not nearly close enough.

"Oh, you know I can do so much more," he grins wolfishly, eager hands helping you to slip off your nightgown. When you are spread nude before him, he slides out of his own trousers, laughing as your eager hands grope at every inch of bare skin they can reach.

"Shall I love you now, my Lady?" he asks, settling between your legs. A gentle hand cups your cheek, and you melt into the tender touch. "It is all I desire."

You brush a stray lock of hair away from his beautiful brown eyes. Happiness bleeds through the air around you, encasing the two of you in a world all your own. A sanctum most sacred and blessed.

"Love me then,” you sigh dreamily, “love me, and know how much I love you in return, you darling, wonderful, worthy man.”

And oh, how you are adored! How your lover makes your body and soul sing, more radiant and joyous than a choir of angels. How he plays your desire over and over, bliss unending, until you are left boneless and spent, a puddle of happiness in his arms.

And as you lay cradled carefully against Gale, enveloped in his ardor, you feel as if you are weightless. There is no more stain upon your soul, no mortal tarnish on your skin. No fear, no insecurity, no wondering. You are eternal. You are blessed.

You are divine.

[messiahzzz]

i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).

there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.

we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.

which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.

leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.

there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:

“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."

even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.

evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.

another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...

[glowinggator]

Prompt: Calling the Lackadaisy characters by their full name

A/N: University has been keeping me busy, and I've been in a bit of a writers block. So in the meantime, take this goofy little thing!

Includes: Rocky Rickaby/Reader Calvin "Freckle" McMurray/Reader Dorian "Zib" Zibowski/Reader Mordecai Heller/Reader Viktor Vasko/Reader Serafine Savoy/Reader Nicodeme "Nico" Savoy/Reader

Rocky Rickaby: 

Rocky's always pleased to hear his name fall from your lips… "Rocky Rickaby…" he loves to occupy your attention, and he's not above doing a silly trick here and there to get you to utter his name like that. But his given name? You can't even finish "Roark" before he's at your feet, begging for forgiveness. Queue the waterworks -- his muse, his winter sunshine, his summer breeze please, please forgive him. For he is naught but a mortal man, riddled with the propensity for mistakes, but is -- Hm?  The maple syrup is in the back of the pantry, yes. Yes, next to the peanut butter. -- is that not the natural state of such mortal endeavors? Surely, such a divine being must take pity on the folly of man!

He doesn't register that you were only playing with him. Or, maybe he's realized and is just committing to the bit. You'll never know. What you do know, however, is that you'll have him at your feet for the next hour or so. 

Calvin McMurray: 

Calvin, Cal, Freckle… Sweetheart, in private. McMurray, when you're teasing. Calvin really gets the gamut of names and nicknames when it comes to you. But when he hears his full name yelled out from the opposite end of the house, he's nothing if not panicked. The past two decades of Irish Catholicism really beats that into you. He rushes to your side, back straight, head down in silent apology for… whatever it is, that he did. 

"...Yes, dear?"

He has to bite his tongue a bit to not bring out any honorifics, but the message comes across just the same. There's only 2 times he uses "dear" as his go to-- 1.) In front of his mother, 2.) After he's done something he shouldn't. 

Decompresses instantaneously when you ask him to open the pickle jar. He exhales quietly, holding his hand out silently for the jar. His heart can't take this sort of thing. Don't do this to the poor man… too often. 

Dorian Zibowski:

Blinks owlishly when he hears his full name shouted out from across the house. If there's any way to sober Zib up… this is it. He's leaping to his feet in an instant, rushing to where you are… and slowing down when he's just out of sight. He smooths his fur and his clothes and takes a deep breath before waltzing calmly into your line of sight. Play it cool. 

"Funny way of pronouncing "Zibowski, doll. Need something?" 

He takes it in stride, but don't be fooled -- he's quaking in his boots, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels the weight lifted off his chest when you ask him to grab something from the top shelf, although you'd never know that. He does, however, press a lingering kiss to your temple after he passes the item off to you. Don't read into it too much. 

Mordecai Heller: 

He tears his eyes away from his book, glancing at you from over the rim of his teacup. "Yes?" 

He's truly unaffected. He's introduced by his first and last name all the time, and he was never scolded in such a manner as a child.  If you were looking for some outlandish reaction, all you've got is his quiet attention. And you might want to answer quickly -- he'd really like to finish this chapter tonight. This is quite a grueling read, you know. 

His true name, however, is a different story. But that's for entirely different reasons, and well, you wouldn't  know anything about that. Right? 

Viktor Vasko: 

Yet another one who is unaffected. He looms over you a bit -- which really, isn't unusual for him considering his stature -- humming questioningly.

He's a man of few words, and even fewer reactions. You've really gotta put some emotion in your voice if you want to get any sort of reaction out of him, and even then the most you're likely to get is a raised eyebrow… maybe a bit of a head tilt if you're lucky. And you can really only do this once -- he'll remember your little trick for next time. 

(If you really want to get a reaction out of him, use some sort of petname. He secretly finds them rather sweet, and the right one will force-reset his brain a bit the first few times you use it. )

Seraphine Savoy: 

Seraphine isn't unaffected by the use of her full name… rather, she revels in it. She's always enjoyed the flow of her name, but it always seems to fall from your lips like some goldly golden ichor. To call it heavenly would be a bit of a misnomer -- sinful, mayhaps? It's a difficult feeling to place, but she strides over to you confidently nonetheless. Her lips quirk up as she leans into your personal space.

"Yes, amou?"  

Nicodeme Savoy: 

Truthfully, he isn't the biggest fan of you calling him by his full name. Well, his full first name, anyways. Feels too stuffy, for his liking. But he takes it in stride, waltzing up to you lazily. He rests his arm on your shoulder and leans down to be eye-level with you, eyes half lidded with a grin. He throws your own full name right back at you teasingly. Need something?  Want him to grab something, or open a jar? Hm? 

His grin stretches a bit wider when you pout -- you really thought you'd get him this time, huh? He kisses you chastely, nipping at you softly in jest. Gotta try harder than that to shake him, bebe. 

[cynthiav06]

Listen, I read your post about Percy's strategic genius and I thought something.

Percy, Sally, and the entire Jackson family are descendants of Odysseus.

Sally is also damn smart, just look at how she competently got rid of Gabe and remained in full advantage.

And that is why how Athena treats Percy in this way.

He is a descendant of her beloved mortal, so similar to him in his mind and the son of her sworn rival, who tormented this very mortal and prevented him from returning home.

You seriously have no idea how GENIUS that headcanon is like holy hell the sheer depth it adds to everything is insane.

1. Athena begrudgingly guiding Percy in Titan's Curse, getting extreme deja vu (God's probably get that a lot) from the situation and how conflicting she gets over the mortal that is Perseus Jackson for his uncanny resemblance to Odysseus when it comes to his wit and his personality minus strangely the hubris.

Despite her disdain for him out of some strange loyalty, she tells him of his fatal flaw and how it would endanger him.

She let's her loathing for Poseidon get the best of her in Titan's Curse and votes to kill Percy and Thalia but Percy like Odysseus has both the wit and achievements she can't overlook despite her desperate intentions to and hence in the Last Olympian she acknowledges in her own subtle way that Percy is the greatest demigod of this age. That he's saved both the world and his friends.

2. Annabeth proud and confident as ever would be flabbergasted that Percy who she despite her supposed love for him undermines him almost always when it comes to his intelligence finds out that her mother has acknowledged Percy for his strategic mind and that he is the descendant of her mother's most favored mortal ever. (Maybe just maybe it will tone her hubris down a notch and then some, and if we are really lucky, a reality check)

3. Percy would laugh, probably shrug at the revelation. After all, stuff like that makes no difference to him.

4. But I can imagine if Sally knew beforehand about it, then how much hell must she have given Poseidon over it and probably still finds it to be a hilarious coincidence .

5. To Poseidon himself, it must have struck as an agonizing coincidence, but for the better, because for all of Poseidon's flaws, he loves his own intensely. His godly children, his monstrous children, his demigod children, and Percy, he loves most out of them all by his own words and he loves him so in some strange manner for the same humanity he scorned Odysseus for having.

Sally must have made him see the error of his ways, and even Poseidon for his quick temper would be loathe to not change his opinions on mercy then. (If the Queen among mortals tells you, you listen)

All in all, everything that happened in the Odyssey with Poseidon Odysseus and Athena would have come to a good closure with this.

That a millenia later by strange set of circumstances Athena and Poseidon begrudgingly acknowledged the folly in their perspectives from the times of Odyssey all because Poseidon met Sally Jackson and sired a demigod child who by a twist only the fates could make up turned out to be the descendant of Odysseus himself. (I reckon the fates must be cackling in glee at the whole thing)

PS: Hermes is having a blast with this news of Percy's ancestry.

No, but seriously, you have given me more pjo brainrot. (Now I hope this keeps you awake like it does me)

And on that note, Percy would totally canonly be the biggest fan of Epic the Musical, lol.

I have a feeling I am not going to stop talking about this now.

[overthinkinglotr]

I was watching LOTR with friends the other day and someone pointed out that a major reason film!Elrond is upset about Arwen being in love with Aragorn is because of Elrond's own broken relationship with Isildur.

In the films Isildur and Elrond are kind of set up as....a broken failed parallel to Aragorn and Arwen?

Arwen reassures Aragorn that "he is Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself," and "is not bound to his fate"-- but Elrond disagrees, confident that Aragorn will be just like Isildur.

Film!Elrond is so certain that trusting in mankind is a mistake that will only lead Arwen to misery because he once trusted in mankind, and the man he trusted ended up failing him. His ally from the line of Elendil ended up falling to the power of the Ring and dying; he believes Aragorn may do the same thing. He doesn't just want to save Arwen's life and keep his daughter by his side; he wants to prevent Arwen from experiencing the same betrayal/heartbreak he experienced. Film!Elrond is very stoic and unsentimental, but there are all these hints at Elrond and Isildur's past relationship throughout the series. Everyone likes to make the joke "why didn't Elrond just toss Isildur into the fire?" but to me the answer is, partially, because he cared about Isildur. They were allies who fought side-by-side. After describing what happened in Mount Doom all those years ago, Elrond tells Gandalf that "It should've ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure." And I think it's interesting that he goes into passive voice for a moment, instead of saying that Isildur specifically allowed to evil to endure--because he's also blaming himself for allowing evil to endure, blaming his own failure to be harsh with Isildur and take the Ring from him by force. He's regretting that he was merciful and didn't "just toss Isildur into the fire."

His complicated emotions about Isildur also appear again in the Two Towers. After insisting that Arwen needs to give up Aragorn as a lost cause and travel into the West, Elrond has a conversation with Galadriel where she guilt-trips him for abandoning Middle Earth/mankind. When she asks him "do we let them stand alone?" Elrond walks into the study, and spends a long moment looking at his mural of Isildur.

He then, in the film's canon, agrees to send military support to one of Isildur's descendants."I don't care about Isildur anymore, men are weak," Elrond says, standing in front of his elaborate mural of Isildur and his shrine dedicated to Isildur's sword.

And yes this is all, again, a drastic departure from his characterization in the book-- most of the Aragorn-Arwen-Elrond stuff in the films is a drastic departure from the book. The films radically alter their dynamics, including eliminating stuff like Elrond being Aragorn's adopted father and all the "their bloodlines are related" stuff and etc etc etc etc etc. But honestly, now that I see it, this interpretation makes the film!Elrond-Arwen dynamic engaging in a way I hadn't recognized before? In some ways it puts Isildur into the role that Elrond's mortal brother Elros played for him in the books, because Elros is cut from the films entirely. Isildur is the reason film!Elrond knows what it's like to have some kind of close relationship with a mortal and then watch them die. When Elrond angrily speaks about the folly of trusting men, or insists to Arwen that Aragorn "is not coming back" so she should just get over him, he's speaking from experience--he's projecting his own weird failed broken betrayal-ridden Thing with Isildur onto Arwen and Aragorn. And in this context, his hopeless monologue about how Arwen will regret staying by Aragorn's side also feels like it's partially from his own experience. "If Sauron is defeated, and Aragorn is made king, and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality." When he fought three thousand years ago Sauron was defeated, and Isildur did become King, and yet... TL;DR : Film!Elrond had a nasty kind-of breakup with a mortal man 3000 years ago and instead of dealing with it he decided "Men Are trash Weak" and began projecting all of his drama onto Arwen

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Hiiii!!!! Uuhh sorry I get a bit awkward to approach new people but oh my god I needed to say that I absolutely love your work!! Im truly a fan!! Your Fierce Deity fics bring me to life and I cant stop thinking about it <333

Not sure if this idea is interesting enough but I cant stop thinking about it and I thought you could maybe like it!!

I keep thinking about Reader talking with the Fierce Deity's mask (imagining he still sealed in the mask) like he was physically there, just rambling. We could show him the sky and the grass, mundane things, talk about our thoughts and ask questions to him, like what is it like to be a god and if he is happy with his life.

One question that also pops a lot in my mind is asking what gods thought of humans or maybe, what he thought of them, of us!! Ofc he doesnt respond bc he is inside the mask but then one day he is off of it and he remembers each and every question we ever asked, and is willing to answer them all NFKENFKWFKWKKFKWKDKW

Its just an idea, you dont really have to do it, but everytime I think about it or Fierce in general, I cant help but also think about you <333

Im really glad I found your work!! I hope we can be friends!! :DDD

I wish you a lovely day my little leaf!! Toodlessss 🍃🍃🍃

𖠰 Woods 𖠰

Okay first of all, this idea this absolutely amazing!! I'll have you know I was practically VIBRATING with excitement while reading this! You have no idea how stoked I am to receive asks like this, so do not feel bad at all for sharing! Also what we're literally already besties <3

Man In The Mask

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Masterlist

What are you?

It was a question the Fierce Deity had heard a thousand times, often accompanied by blood and blaze: a question of those he protected... and those he did not, whispered on the heels crimson-dripped lips and frightful eyes. He was a god of war, and thus not one to engage in the folly of mortals. Orders were his foundation, and steel his soul, wrapped in a righteous evil that not even the goddesses could bear to gaze upon.

Which is why he felt nothing short of hedonistic when it fell from the lips of the paltry mortal's holding the wretched mask that trapped him centuries earlier. Voice soft and eyes softer, touch featherlight on the chipped edges of his prison. There were thumbs on the apples of his 'cheeks', and the deity was caught between rage and sorrow. Tumultuous emotions were not his strong suit, and neither was restraint, from the way things were looking.

He didn't need to stand before them to feel their weakness, as was typical of most humans, but there was an ember in your eyes that seemed to burn with a light he didn't dare remember, shining like a beacon in the night.

"I wonder who painted you," the human, you, mused, stroking again over the half-glossed finish of the mask. Gentle, comforting, and utterly indecipherable to the deity inside. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

Why... Why was that relevant? Never in his wildest thoughts had the Fierce Deity expected Time to intrust his 'care' to a human, much less you. His very existence was a burden; how could a so-called hero willingly place something so... so destructive in the hands of, well, he considered you quite innocent to the tribulations of war and bloodshed and sorrow.

But what could he do but wait, snug under your arm, as you prattled on about anything and everything. The notion that you were naive enough to talk to a mere mask, of all things. Had you no sense? No discretion? It was a question he often asked himself, though only because there was no one else to answer.

That didn't stop his dull wonderings on whether you would ask such questions if he stood before you in the flesh. Would you cower? Fight? Flee? Perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove himself right once again.

***

The Fierce Deity mask weighed heavy in your hands as you plodded down the small path towards home. A thick forest bordered you from the east, while a blooming prairie stretched as far as the eye could see from the west. There was no doubt in your mind that you were incredibly lucky to live where you did, a fact that was only exemplified by the nine heroes that had crashed into your life (and living room) through a portal that looked straight out of Coraline or some shit.

Never in a million years would you have expected Time, the distrustful forest child he was, to entrust anything to you, much less a mask that supposedly held the spirit of one of the greatest entities of his world, but you supposed it was only proof that miracles did still exist. Maybe.

Either way, you had taken up the mantle of caring for the mask, and there was no way in hell you were going to screw up. Not that Time would let you, the worrywart, and you were only just beginning to catch him not staring holes into your back.

Chronic mother hens aside, it didn't take a genius to figure out there was something terribly wrong with the item tucked under your arm. Whether it was the crimson and navy facial markings or innocuous radiation of something akin to evil, you had no doubt that Time's warnings were not in jest.

Despite this, you couldn't quite shake the idea of a soul being trapped inside, well, the mask was practically a prison at this point. And maybe, just maybe, you felt a modicum of guilt at the entity's fate. Had he deserved it? Perhaps. Was it cruel? Without a doubt.

Which is why you found yourself taking the Fierce Deity's mask with you when you went to the store, or the library, or simply for a walk in the forest, tucked in your satchel to protect from prying eyes, though you always adjusted the cover so at least one of the eyeholes was free to gaze upon the wonders of your world. It was a small mercy that you were willing to afford, one that quickly spiraled into conversation with the mask itself. You always had a habit of speaking out loud, and now you, presumably, had an ear to listen.

But it was all speculation at this point; Time had never outright confirmed whether a living creature resided within the painted oak, only that it was imbued with an evil so ancient it could challenge the goddesses. You had stopped listening at that point, muttering 'drugs' under your breath, but there was always hope in your tone when you reminisced about the world around you.

With a sigh, you stopped, bringing the mask to the forefront of your vision, thumbs instinctually tracing the crimson stripes on the cheeks. It was baffling that something so beautiful could feel so wrong in your hands. You desperately wished to uncover the truth, to breathe in the big reveal and revel in the known mysteries of life.

"What are you?" The words slipped off your tongue like silk, right enough that you could have chalked it up to fate. The mask felt warm, basked in the fading rays of the golden sun, and you had the distinct feeling of being watched. The pads of your thumbs stroked the raised cheeks of the mask, disturbing a thin layer of dust, as more words spilled forth. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

It felt strange, talking to the mask as if it was a person, but you were too intrigued to care. If an entity truly resided within, you wondered what he thought of you. Was he impressed? Disgusted? Resigned? You had grown up with the belief that if gods truly existed, their disappointment would be without bounds, but that assumption didn't feel accurate when you stared at the shadowed skin of your palms through the eyeholes.

What horrors had a deity of this caliber seen through eyes of oak... and why were you so desperate to find out?

***

The Fierce Deity was convinced you were either crazy or stupid.

Night had fallen some time ago, filling your small quarters with only the pale light of the moon. His prison sat propped against the contraption you called a 'lamp', facing the bed in which you slept. Your nighttime routine was... unusual, to say the least. In his time, maidens wore long shifts to sleep, while here, you had treated him to the ludicrous sight of what could only be described as the shortest britches he had the displeasure of viewing and a sleeveless rag of a tunic that looked as though you wore it to a scuffle with a large animal, not to mention the sheer audacity you had to undress before the mask without regard for decency. Had the Hero of Time not informed you of his status in this wretched prison, because it was as though you had forgotten or simply didn't care at all?

Whatever the case, it was with much dread that the Fierce Deity only found himself more attracted to the mortal cursed with his care. Your life was, at most, mundane, yet you spoke as though every day was a great adventure, in a tone that could have inspired countless scribes into a flurry of activity. More shocking, however, was how he could feel himself clinging to your every word, like a dog waiting for scraps. He had been alone for so long, and the reality that a mere mortal considered him, well, mortal enough to converse with was a reality he never imagined contesting with.

But, despite how thrown off he was, there was a certain comfort in the quiet nights you spent together, however inadvertently they came to be. After a life of isolation, he found a purpose in the steady rise and fall of your chest, in the snorting giggles of your laughter, and the way you flipped the edge of your pack to grant him sight, never mind that he was fully capable of viewing the world without it. It was for that reason that the rage in his battered soul waned a fraction, leaving a sliver of room for whatever this was, and the reason his mind refused to release thoughts of your whispered queries, always centered on him, whether it be his health, status as a deity, or happiness.

Farfetched as it was, the Fierce Deity, god of war and blood and death, waited hours for you to wake, unblinking because he would be damned to miss the very moment of your return to the land of the living, the languid stretch your body performed as you groaned softly, rubbing the creases of your eyes with the same gentleness you treated him to. He would study the outfits you wore, committing them all to memory so he could better understand the core of who he considered to be his savior. Maybe then, when he was free, he could begin to repay your kindness–bit by bit, word by word–until distance became more of a myth that him, and your tender warmth could be validated by more than just a paltry mask. Your very breath became his meaning, your soul his muse, and the Fierce Deity was sure he would never forget it.

But in the meantime, perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove you right once again.

I can't begin to express how beautiful this felt to write. The Fierce Deity truly is my muse.

ALSO there will be a part two, so keep your eyes peeled!

[molinaesque]

Okay I mentioned that I had a bunch of Raphael thoughts and basically made a whole essay (in literally no actual format, this is just me vomiting out parsing thoughts and using it when lore dumping onto my friends). This is written based off of stuff you find in the game, some Wiki diving and my own thoughts.

Feel free to hit me up with some topics that we can talk about. And remember, these involve are my own thoughts and headcanons at the end of the day, so please act normally and don't come at me with pitchforks just because I have something that doesn't align with your specific HC.

A Prince's Tale: The Story of Raphael

In the universe of Faerûn, there exists a heaven and hell, or in this case the Heavens and the Hells. There are the Nine Hells of Baator, all ruled and lorded over by various archdevils. Raphael is the son of the ruler of the eighth circle of Hell, the archdevil, Mephistopheles. Raphael is a cambion which consists of a fiend and a mortal. Cambions then are considered "results of unnatural and unholy communion". In Raphael's case it's a bit more complicated because the fiend in this equation isn't just some lower being like an incubus or some other demon but a true Devil, making Raphael leagues above, both in power and rank, other typical Cambions, just purely due to his association and blood of being Mephistopheles' offspring.

The system in the Hells is extremely rigid and hierarchical (it's a system that has been upheld for eons. Many of the systems that make up the universe of D&D are as deeply rigid and rooted). Many of the themes of the characters of Baldur's Gate 3 consist of them either repeating the cycle or breaking its hold, which in the D&D verse is an extremely hard thing to do because of how long standing these systems are. In regards to the Hells, it works like a pyramid. The top of the food chain and order are the archdevils. There are many archdevils that reside and rule over each circle of the Hells, one however rules all and lives in the Ninth circle, Nessus; Asmodeus.

So what does Raphael want? The integral key item and centerpiece of the main plotline of BG3 dubbed only as 'The Crown', created by Karsus. Karsus was a very powerful, most would say perhaps THE most powerful wizard who ever lived. An archwizard/demi-god responsible for creating and casting a spell that would steal the power of a deity and transfer it to the archwizard who casted it. Eventually, this was a mistake, for one of the responsibilities of the deity of magic was to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. He did not have the ability to do so properly, causing magic to surge and fluctuate, threatening that balance. This caused the flying cities of Netheril to plummet to the earth. The last thing Karsus sees is his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions. This will be known as 'Karsus' Folly'.

Raphael tells you about this story and how he was there to witness it happen all those years ago. He wanted the Crown to himself but it was stolen and put into hiding. He later finds out that Mephistopheles, his father was the one responsible for stealing it. Now, here's a way to explain the fucked up power levels and why it plays so much of a factor especially in the Nine Hells. I mentioned how Raphael is not a typical Cambion, BUT even though he is technically a prince by birthright and a half true devil, it doesn't make a difference under the likes of archdevils like his father (who doesn't help at all with Raphael's behaviour because Mephistopheles is a MEGA asshole. I mean, there's a reason why Raphael never utilised his name to invoke influence and power, doesn't even call him father, that's how much he hates him. You only find out about it through Haarlep. He even had another child, a daughter, who he cared more about by making her a trusted double-agent against one of his rivals. Meanwhile, he treats Raphael like nothing and acts as if he doesn't exist for the most part). Basically, unless you are an archdevil in the Hells, you are never TRULY free. As power, literally = freedom in the Hells. Raphael realises this and so began his lifelong ambition to get that power. That came with the events of Karsus' Folly. Realising that this is the opportunity and power Raphael needed, he attempts to steal it only for it to be taken by none other than his own father. Now, you think "ah Mephistopheles wants that power for himself, right?" No. Here is how far apart the levels of power are between beings like Mephistopheles (beings such as archdevils/archwizards/demi-gods/gods/etc) and beings like Raphael, who is already a pretty substantial and powerful Devil by his own right.

Raphael has been coveting the Crown and its power for 10 centuries, a thousand years, essentially. It's his one source that can possibly give him the chance of taking even more control of the Hells and ultimately make him TRULY a free devil. It's his life's mission that has been going on until he's practically in his middle age in devil years (his human appearance showcases this, and we also see a younger Raphael in his devil form with Haarlep). Half of his (immortal) life. It is very crucial and important to him.

And yet… to Mephistopheles, it's just a souvenir. A trinket. Or as Raphael puts it, "a museum piece".

This, undoubtedly angered Raphael so much and made his hatred towards his father even more so (Raphael mentioned how he raged for a decade, understandably). The fact that not only does his father treat him as if he doesn't exist, but to add insult to injury, did this while mocking him by not taking him seriously. One of the things he did was to send an incubus, Haarlep, made and glamoured to be an exact copy of Raphael, to distract him. It could also be seen as a message of "here is my gift to you and it is one of the only few things that will ever be 'truly' yours; a copy of yourself". Raphael would have been the first image that Haarlep acquired, thus why the constant form that you see him with is of Raphael (Haarlep tells you this if you kill him and speak to his corpse). Haarlep's corpse also tells you that "Raphael only loves himself." I wonder why. Haarlep also has a contract that requires him to obtain 1000 souls (the runes on his harness have been translated to the number '1000') in order to be free. This is why the archivist in House of Hope tells you that special guests can reside in the boudoir, as this is a primary way for Haarlep to collect more souls. If you sleep with him, and allow him to have your heart and soul, you die. If you promise your body only, you live but he now has a full copy of you entirely. Additionally, we know Gortash was sold to be in Raphael's services when he was a boy. We know that Gortash and the other Chosen eventually stole the Crown from Mephistopheles' vault. What's interesting is if you explore the House of Hope, you can find a portal to the eighth circle of Hell, Cania, where Mephistopheles resides. I believe that Gortash utilized this to obtain the Crown. Imagine the sheer rage and embarrassment Raphael had to endure because of this. Not only did the Crown get snatched from under him once but TWICE. Once by his father, and then later by a boy who was under his charge. I can completely imagine Mephistopheles utilising that as additional ammo and lording that over Raphael's head.

In pertaining to Raphael's character and behavior, all of this explains additionally as to why Raphael is the way he is. It's selfish, insecure behavior that also explains the portraits he surrounds himself with. Notice how all the paintings are of his true form. He also has many lines of dialogue depending on what you pick during your various meetings where he truly gets angry. One of these lines is him shouting "I AM NO MORTAL" when you simply ask why he would succeed where Karsus had failed (which is ironic because, my guy, you are part mortal, so was Karsus but he was very powerful for many other reasons other than pure association and blood. Raphael even tells you how foolish of a notion it would be if you suggest that you could take the Crown for yourself, telling you that archdevils, wizards, and gods have worn the Crown, "it would tear you apart" he warns you). The portraits of his Devil form in House of Hope surrounding him is a way of constant reminder to himself of what he wants to be associated with. He HATES that he is part mortal (he has showcased his disdain for the mortal realm very clearly during your encounter in House of Hope) and wants to see himself as only a Devil. To say that dude's got major issues and complexes is a huge understatement. He's a deeply insecure being who's controlling and manipulative (most of it stemming from his father and his predicament of essentially living a half-life), but he's also a pragmatic, self-aware character. He's very much the epitome of Lawful Evil. If the players choose to only see him as a one note character who's just "self-centered and evil", you can. That's the beauty of Baldur's Gate. These things are true,but you can also add on top of that when you choose to find out and explore for more lore and characterization.

Interestingly, the way he treats someone who opposes him compared to those who don't are very stark in contrast. You see it with the prime examples of Hope (naming the house after her due to her being the one soul who he cannot convert and have on his team completely) and of her sister Korilla, who has mentioned that she loves being in service of Raphael completely as he has treated her with respect and given her more freedom than her previous master ever did, who in her own words, "constantly would beat me and feed me scraps". "Better to be free in the Hells than go begging in the Heavens", she tells you. She's also not blindly following Raphael or under any thrall. In fact she makes light of him and his antics to you completely of her own volition. She made a bet with Raphael whether you would survive and get to Baldur's Gate (which Raphael bet FOR you to succeed btw). You can find the Five Soul Coins they bet for in the safe hidden behind the portrait in HoH. And she doesn't sing his praises completely, saying that she's more skeptical of you than Raphael is and is fearful of how wrong he would be banking everything on you, saying "Raphael can be so very wrong". She basically tells you that Raphael won't shut up about you. She also tells you that Raphael is, in her own words, "by no means altruistic" and argues that Raphael truly wants to not have the world destroyed because it would simply mean, as she puts it "the boss did the balance sheets. No world, no souls". In fact, she BEGS you to reconsider if you didn't take the deal in the first place.

One could argue that Raphael residing in Avernus and having him in proximity of mortals more in comparison to the deeper levels of the Hells, gave him more perspective. He even tells you he doesn't want Baldur's Gate to be destroyed. He tells you, fondly, he couldn't possibly want that to happen because the city is "an object lesson of moral excess". Why would he want a huge primary source of deals and contracts for him gone. If you explore the House of Hope, many of his deals range from complex, twisted deals to simple, straightforward ones with no caveats (for example there is a debtor who tells you that he sold his soul for enough money to keep his family well fed. Done. No trickery. That was the end of it. Even the architect of Moonrise Towers attested to Raphael keeping his word and defeating Ketheric's forces way back then). In Raphael's own words, "I'm a man of my word" and he wasn't lying. There's a reason why he has practically a 99.9% conversion rate (his one big failure being Hope and why he's so obsessed with converting her is because he truly cannot understand how one can be so pure of a soul. She's a puzzle, and Raphael HATES it when he can't figure something out). If you're wondering why can't Raphael (or any other devil) force or lie about the contracts they have made, well that's literally by design. Asmodeus created a law that bars devils from doing so, and devils will get punished severely would they ever take advantage of that. That's also why devils have to be extra sneaky when being contractors because if they die, it doesn't matter. The contracts they made while still alive still stays intact until they are completed. Meanwhile, the contract just gets given to another devil. When Raphael tells you in HoH if you asked him for no more bloodshed, he tells you "you've given me no choice". He means this, as it would mean both you AND he would be punished regardless if he were to let it be.

Mol is another example of a straightforward transaction. He wasn't lying when he said he'll keep Mol safe from harm in exchange for becoming her patron. It's not for something nebulous like "she has to become the leader of the guild in the next 20 years" or something extreme, it was just "I'll be your patron in return for your safety and security". He sees her as a long standing investment. Raphael mentioned that he hates children, but there is ONE thing he values above all else and admires when he recognizes it. "Ambition." He tells you he sees that in Mol during the meeting at Last Light Inn. It's also believable that he sees himself in Mol (especially his younger self) and thought "I respect it and I get another easy contract. Win-win". The dude loves underdog stories since his own is practically one as well. In fact, Mol doesn't like it when you treat her condescendingly. If you remember the chess scene in Last Light Inn, there are ways she can lose but also various ways she can win (and no, you don't have to only pick helping her cheat for this to work). If you help her cheat, she wins. If you help her by giving her an offensive strategy, she wins (in fact Raphael knows that she cheated, and if she won legitimately, even comments about the move and stating that it's a legit maneuver in chess and praises Mol for it saying that it's "exactly what I would've done"). Either way, Raphael praises your suggestions when Mol leaves. If however, you don't offer advice, or tell Mol to be defensive, she looses, prompting Raphael to comment on how being non committal or weak will not help Mol in the long run. If you stole her contract, she doesn't mind it too much BUT if you killed Raphael and told her about it, she will HATE you. Hating how you killed her patron, "Big Raph" as she calls him, that would ensure her safety and security as long as she's under contract. It's another additional interesting subplot that doesn't really have anything to do with the grand scheme of the game, but adds even more layers to already fascinating characters.

This dichotomy is what makes Raphael a very complex and interesting character. He's a devil who wants Ultimate Power, make no mistake, but he also is pragmatic enough to realise that he does not want another "Karsus' Folly". In fact, he could have easily just done an Emperor to gain your trust wholeheartedly and then turn on you the moment you have the Crown. It would have been easier for him. But he chose to bank on you being a long term investment maybe even beyond the Crown, meeting you head on and reveal his true nature to you from the first meeting. If you listen to everything he tells you, he never actually lies, he omits things here and there, but he never lies to you (in fact if you become even more on his team, there is a line where he straight up tells you that he "likes you"). It's a similar relationship with Korilla, in that she has complete free will but is for his team. He mentions that he does not like it when people beg or kiss his ass (there are many examples of this, his conversation with Voss for one and also whenever you choose dialogue options that make you seem like a spineless whimp). He even tells you at points that he likes the way you do things (even if they're a bit unorthodox), and if you took his contract but chose to break it (or just stole the hammer, it's the same regardless), it makes it even more personal because he genuinely was shocked to find that you were the one breaking into his house. This is one of the few times we see Raphael truly angry. No fancy words, no charm, no smarmyness. Just anger and even sheer disappointment that you chose to, in his own words, "become like Karsus, disregarding everything and burning your world to ash" (remember, Raphael truly believes that his method with the hammer and Orpheus is the ONLY way to defeat the brain, that's the unfortunate part of obsessing and planning for this goal for so long that he truly believes there are no other alternatives. He mentions in one of his diaries that he has planned a dozen ways to obtain the Crown, but he concludes that there is only one way for it to actually work and it involves Orpheus, hence the creation and naming of "The Orphic Hammer". There's even a book about its creation in HoH). Hell, even one of the dialogue options where you say "there's no need for more bloodshed", you would think he'd just be like "HAHAHA evil dialogue, i planned this all along, you're nothing, blah blah" but instead he actually says in his own words, "I have no choice" because we know that breaking contracts means death, and death means he has to collect your soul. Even if you didn't sign the contract and break in, he still genuinely did not think you would go so far as to do such a thing especially with the offer he made to you. He basically blames you for being too proud to do such a thing.

Even when you don't take his contract at all, when you meet up with the Emperor again in the Astral Prism during the battle against the Netherbrain, choosing to betray the Emperor will cause Raphael to appear for a final time. Does he just offer you the contract again? Yes. But not before scolding you for being an idiot and genuinely being pissed off at you for not taking his deal to free Orpheus. He even tells you in his own words, "we could have been allies, partners… FRIENDS!" If you try to beg him for help, he shouts at you, saying how you are in no position to make demands anymore because of your reckless actions. You made your bed, you have to recognise it. If you still refuse his offer, he doesn't try to force you, or twist your arm in any way… he just tells you, quote, "Goodbye. It's been unforgettable" (which is his way of saying "i won't forget you… but i also won't forget how much of a fucking blind idiot you were) and then leaves you forever. If you take the deal, he tells you it's no longer as equals anymore, you are now considered a lowly servant to him. He genuinely wanted you to be partners, but doing all of this basically leads him to conclude that you aren't worth it anymore. The way the writers chose to have the Emperor and Raphael parallel each other but in different ways is genius. They are two sides of the same coin. Both want true freedom, both try to manipulate Tav, the main characters for their own cause, both are extremely pragmatic and set in their own ways and goals. The irony is that instead of portraying Raphael as this pure scheming, one note character - is flipped on it's head by making him honestly, one of the most truthful characters in the game. It's just that he's a Devil. As Korilla states when you ask her back at the brothel, "why can't Raphael just be clear with me if we are on the same team?" she tells you as if explaining that the sky is blue…

"He's a Devil. It's in his nature. He has to make his dues."

This speaks of how ancient and deeply rooted these laws and systems work in their universe. Typically, characters says stuff like this to be hyperbolic/dramatic. But in the case of Raphael as a Devil, she means this literally, as souls keep the Hells functionable, and as we know by now, souls = power, and more power = more freedom.

Now, to address the epilogue and what happens if you do make the pact with him and delivered upon your promise. He comes to you and tells you that he and his forces are already taking over Avernus and overthrew Zariel. He tells you that he has various archdevils already coming to him to make concessions, his father included. He also tells you that he'll be knocking on your door soon. This is open to interpretation, but remember he has sworn to you during your deal that he would never use the Crown on a mortal (trust me, with his obsession with the Hells and how he envisioned on ruling it, in his own words "more order, efficiency, and control", he is definitely more interested in dominating the Hells only, it's too much work anyhow to be interested in anything else. Also he swore to you as part of the contract, he literally cannot break this, if he does, it's immediate punishment for him, so he's not lying). So, more than likely, he finds you to be a very important potential ally to further work with in the future. Also, depending on how early you signed the contract, his tone/line can be interpreted VERY differently.

Now here's the most interesting part… if you aren't familliar with D&D lore, that epilogue would lead you to believe "oh damn he's going to be ruler of the Nine Hells just like he wanted, good for him", but that's easier said than done. Because not only the deeper the Hells go, the more powerful these archdevils will be. I have no trepidation about him defeating them or them conceding to him, that's already happening. The one obstacle he truly needs to worry about… is the keeper of the Ninth Hell, the ruler of all the Nine Hells of Baator, Asmodeus. The creator and overlord himself. Just to give you a concept of how the power levels work in D&D… level 12 and above, are almost levels of godhood. Think the likes of Hercules. At the level Asmodeus is at, however, a former deity (speculative) and creator of the laws and system that permits the balance of life and the universe itself, Raphael even with the Crown will have… a VERY slim chance of overruling him. At the very least he could take over the other realms or instill his way of order and control, and appeal to Asmodeus, because funny enough, Asmodeus' personality and behaviour and goals is VERY similar and akin to Raphael's (Asmodeus is the primal embodiment of Lawful Evil and a supreme strategist of unparalleled skill. He's good at warfare but even better at words, planning, and subterfuge). Another thing is Raphael might even change his own mind, because Asmodeus isn't just the ruler of the Hells, his primary existence is to keep the balance of life and death and the existing universe in check. I personally don't see Raphael being interested in such a huge responsibility but that's another topic for another day.

Another fun fact, many of the characters in D&D are existing characters in various cultural stories/mythologies. Many of the archdevils included with the likes of Mephistopheles, Baalzebub, Mammon, and yes even Asmodeus. The writers most likely looked to biblical texts for inspiration of Raphael, but the irony is they took the one famous character in Christian biblical text, Raphael, who is not a devil, but an archangel and then flipped that character on its head. One of archangel Raphael's most famous stories is literally called, 'the Battle Against Asmodeus', where Raphael fights against Asmodeus, a fallen cherub and dubbed, "personal adversary" of Raphael. What's even cooler? The battle was not one of might, but of intelligence, wisdom and influence. Exactly like how D&D's own Raphael and Asmodeus operate. Raphael certainly takes more after Asmodeus than he does his own father.

Speaking of which, what about his father? Raphael mentions that he was there amongst the midst of other archdevils coming to Raphael to make concessions. Raphael is smart enough to know, though, that his father is not there solely out of "you did it, my boy" or anything like that, or perceiving him as a true threat still. Besides knowing how Raphael is seen by Mephistopheles, back at the diabolisk shop, there is an orb charmed to keep an eye on Raphael at all times. If you had defeated him in House of Hope, you will witness Mephistopheles holding the broken body of Raphael over his mouth and eating him. It's a nod to 'Saturn/Kronos eating his son(s)'. Basically, if you chose this ending for Raphael, you close the circle and end this story of Jacobean tragedy of an underdog prince who has been seeking validation and freedom from the sheer inescapable nature of the Hells and it's systems. In a way Raphael also has the same themes of your other companions who are also trying to navigate their fates. Whether to repeat that cycle in perpetuity or break free of it, it all hinges upon your choices throughout this journey of Baldur's Gate 3. Basically, Mephistopheles is just waiting patiently to witness his own son's downfall should he become overzealous and overtly ambitious, before swooping in to consume his son and all that additional power for himself, power that he doesn't even need, mind you. He's just there for the vibes, and to add even more pressure on his son. Parents, amirite?

If you're on team Raphael (like me) and gave him the ending he wants, the only thing I can really say is "Good luck, little prince. I'm actually rooting for you. You're going to need it."

Will our little princeling be able to break out of his own cycle and come out on top? Will Raphael be able to even get to the ninth circle let alone confront Asmodeus? Will Raphael finally get one over his dear ol' dad? Will Raphael ever get to finally make due on his promise ("I'm a man of my word"), and have that wine with Tav?

Hard to say, for his journey is just beginning.

[dballzposting]

Dragon ball is shonen meat head about strength and winning ...❗⁉️🚨 FACT CHECK :It is about the power of teamwork... it is about the divinity in mortal collaboration and the mortal folly to be found in those who oppose life and goodness ... It is about how true perfection is not a goal, but it is found in the journey, it is the harmonious flow of win/loss and change and growth that makes it all worthwhile... Love your fellow man ... hold him accountable ... Kick his ass ... Peace &Love and violence among brothers becasue it's fun. Beerus bless Ameroca

[leiflitter]

Gale Dekarios and The Wizard of Waterdeep

Aka Leif vents their brain into Tumblr again because I have Thoughts About The Wizard! Is it coherent? PROBABLY NOT I'M DOING THIS FOR FUN.

General rambling below the cut!

Firstly- this little braindump is based upon my interpretation of Gale as a Neurodivergent Individual, so I guess if you're not on the "Gale would be so fuckin into magic the gathering if he was in this realm" train, then this may not be for you. Which is fine! I'm just yelling into the void here.

Also; characters are fun because we can interpret them in different ways! This is in no way meant to stomp on anyone else's headcanons of Gale, and may even be entirely overwritten if more info comes out about him from Larian.

I wrote a ton and then fuckin lost it all but hey that's fine I can condense it WAY more now. So let's go, bullet points!

Gale of Waterdeep is Gale Dekarios' mask.

If you don't know what Masking is- a quick definition for ya-

Neurodivergent masking refers to the practice of concealing or suppressing aspects of one's neurodivergent traits or conditions, in order to fit in with the norms of the workplace or society.

Let's begin at the beginning-

Gale as a child would have been insufferable. He was a prodigy, yes, but also clearly lacked proper consequences for his actions (his punishment for Blackstaff hijinks in his first year? Writing lines. HE OPENED A PORTAL TO LIMBO AND ALMOST DIED). This may be due to Mystra's influence, even if it was indirect, but there's no faster way to alienate a child from their peers than to both mark them as Very Special and let them get away with everything. Gale's magical education likely left his social education lacking.

As Gale's also mentioned that he was a prodigy, and was using 4th level spells (summon elemental) when he was living at home (at least part of the time), he may even have been younger than his fellow first year apprentice wizards when he was admitted- further isolating him. He specifically says he was a child when he, uh, "borrowed" the blackstaff- we just don't know how old Blackstaff first years tend to be.

Also, from Gale's story about the Blackstaff, he seemed to be attending Wizard Boarding School (he wanted to get to the first year dorms). So he was not only set apart from his peers, he had to live in a dorm with them.

To navigate this difficult social situation, Gale Dekarios becomes Gale of Waterdeep- he starts Masking. He puts on his Wizard Suit and acts the way Wizards should, because those are the Wizard Rules.

For an example of these Wizard Rules- the closest equivalent we have to Pre-Folly Gale would probably be Lorroakan - and Lorroakan is a great example of Wizard Language and Wizard Rules. Yes, Lorroakan is an absolute shitweasel, but let's consider him an extreme example- pre-folly Gale turned up to 15. Heck, he even does the little ☝️ when you speak to him (Gale does it better bro, sorry).

Elminster is also a good example- he's almost allergic to just saying something straight out until he absolutely has to, but he'll dance around the point repeatedly. A trait Gale shows before he reveals the orb:

Gale. Seriously. He'd get you a birthday present and make five billion hints about it, I swear. But again- that's How Fancy Wizards Talk in this canon. And Gale does it excellently.

Gale masking also explains how his Wizard Rizz and his loneliness coexist. Gale of Waterdeep has a practiced tongue and has totally had sex with mortals. Gale Dekarios, on the other hand, is stuck inside Gale of Waterdeep like that little alien in Men in Black.

The Wizard of Waterdeep can only facilitate shallow connections because there's nothing behind the Thesaurus Vocabulary. The confidence he projects is essentially an illusion, but it's one he relies on to navigate his world. He's isolated by default- as you grow closer, he admits this:

Note how he says Tara was "always" telling him to get mortal friends- we know that Gale conjured Tara when he was young. Assuming that he's not exaggerating to an exponential degree, we can assume that Gale's never really had a friendship based on actual mutual appreciation- more that any connections he had were entirely due to his magical ability and proximity to Mystra.

Thus while he may not be a virgin on the physical plane, I doubt that his experiences were in any way personal or meaningful.

We know Gale's a romantic at heart- but again, he cannot remove the mask. From personal experience, masking can often lead you to do things you don't quite "get" because it's what "normal" people do.

Although it could be explained by scripting limitations, I would have expected any meaningful romantic encounters to be mentioned- especially as you directly ask him if you're his first mortal partner. Gale is an expert at oversharing- I would consider it in-character for him to ramble about his first mortal love before realising that he's cramming his foot into his mouth and shutting up (similar to the "Mystra once took the tiniest piece of weave and-" scene).

Again, without further info from Gale's writers, we've got space to play in- my personal feeling is that Gale has had hookups, most likely with his wizarding peers, but as he didn't let his peers see beyond the Wizard of Waterdeep, anything more than casual just wouldn't happen. He couldn't let anyone close enough to get behind the mask, especially not another wizard- as other wizards are those he's most trying to blend in with.

Enter Mystra (Derogatory) + a lil more Lorroakan (Derogatory)

A minor sidetrack here- part of why I tend to see Gale as early-mid 30s is to do with the Mystra timeline and my own personal experiences. So- firstly, as BG3 is set in 1492. Mystra was slain (aw yeah) in 1385, which started The Spellplague, but she was restored (boo, hiss, we were fine without her) in 1480. So there's about 12ish years where Mystra was, y'know, alive and able to interact with Gale. Gale spent one of those years with the orb, and before that he had to go and find the orb. So let's say he and Mystra spent about a decade together, from teacher > lover.

I've already expounded about why I think Mystra doesn't give a single shit about Gale in my previous GaleRant- my basic thoughts are that Mystra's relationship with Gale was a form of damage control to prevent him becoming Karsus 2.0, but as she didn't actually care enough about him to get to know him, her plans actually made him more likely to go all Netherese Magic.

We're going to hop back to Lorroakan for a sec. Again, he proves to be a good analogue for Gale. Lorroakan has been in residence at Ramazith's Tower for about 10 years- even though context clues show us that he's definitely not up to Gale's standard, so we'll assume he's probably a little bit older than our Child Prodigy- and he's definately less of a go-getter, seeing as how he's paying folks to go get the Nightsong instead of doing it himself. The big baby.

Lorroakan is important because he demonstrates the sort of shit egotistical wizards do when they aren't distracted by Mystra's blue sparkly tits. Again, a minor assumption that he's maybe a little older than Gale- he has taken ownership of a famous Wizard's Tower, absolutely upped his PR game to Kardashian tier over a decade, and now he's trying to find the Nightsong. Is it just me, or is there HUBRIS in the air?

Now, back to Gale. We know he was trying to prove himself from childhood. Elementals, Tara, The Blackstaff- and, frankly, does he seem like the kind of guy to leave it at that? I doubt it- hence why I peg him at early-mid 30s, depending on when Mystra tried the Godly equivalent of danging keys in front of a cat. I reckon he'd have dashed into some sort of cataclysmic bullshittery as soon as he graduated from Wizard School. And we know he probably became a full-fledged wizard early, given that he's a smart lil guy.

HOWEVER, back to my actual point about Gale's general social life/etc- Gale absolutely lacks real-world experience.

I'm not talking him hanging out in the Yawning Portal. I'm talking his actual, prolonged exposure to the world outside of Wizard Life.

(Yes, it is absolutely possible that he spent however-long just quietly studying for Wizard in between him becoming a full wizard and his exile, but! With age comes exposure- and Gale is actually a fairly adventurous lil dweeb. He's curious- and again, had he been given true freedom, he probably would be off gathering eldritch relics and causing havok)

My main point, though, is that a major point of Gale's entire plot is that he is being forcibly unmasked by the circumstances he's in- and this is in many ways the catalyst for late-game stuff.

Gale's primary conflict isn't truly against Mystra, because let's be real- Mystra doesn't give much of a shit about him one way or another. I'm not even convinced that she cares about The Absolute- I think she just doesn't want to go through the hassle of dying again, and she doesn't respect Gale enough to even consider a way to actually communicate with him about it.

Gale's arc is a struggle between Gale of Waterdeep and Gale Dekarios- and Gale coming to terms with himself as a person. Not as a wizard. Not as a prodigy. Not as anything special- just a man.

You see it in the language he uses- he goes from speaking in monologues to telling you to stop licking the damn thing!

You see it in his emotional range expanding- when you yoink him from the portal, he's immediately cheery! You could whack him in a faculty party and he'd probably behave in the exact same way- and then the night before Moonrise he's terrified. He even becomes more honest in his aspirations- yes, he still dresses it up to be persuasive, but he doesn't try to play it cool. He's absolutely geeking out about it alongside everything else.

Gale of Waterdeep demands a lot to be maintained, and it's a comforting outfit to wear. He slips, but the beauty in the story is that you can take Gale Dekarios by the hand and show him that he can be mortal. He can feel pain and greed and desire, disgust and shame and sadness, and it isn't a bad thing. He can be confident for real, and not as camouflage- he can be horny on main and as long as it's genuine, he's absolutely rockin' it.

And as someone who was and is going through it, it's made me appreciate him immensely.

[whatspastisprologue-blr]

Memnoch the Devil gives me some of my favorite Lesmand interactions, even though, as is the case with all the books, I have to keep Assad Zaman's Armand in my mind because he just *is* Armand and so whenever he's described in the book it's honestly jarring to me.

Like, when they first see each other again and Lestat is genuinely happy to see him? And notes that Armand's voice "had no meanness in it at all". And basically calls him hot and then says he's "good to love". And then they hug each other! Willingly!

"We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn't tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn't. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard."

And then Lestat playfully ruffles Armand's hair! Which Armand doesn't mind. In fact, he smiles! And then playfully shoves Lestat back (actually, it hurt him) to show off a little. After which, we get this:

"I can't remember anything bad between us." I said.

"You will," he responded. "And so will I. But what does it matter what we remember?"

"Yes," I said, "we're both still here."

Armand laughs again and kisses Lestat a couple of paragraphs later, seemingly just for fun. And then, in this chapter (this is all just one chapter, guys), Armand basically gets to play Lestat for Lestat, in the sense that he gets to tell Lestat the exact same arguments that Lestat used to help Armand get free from the CoD. Both of them admit it.

Oh, yeah, and actually, Lestat wasn't expecting to see Armand! That was a surprise. Armand showed up (with David, ew, but maybe it'll be Daniel on the show) because he's worried about Lestat!

And then we get this hilariously petty exchange:

"Around this Dora, I've thrown a protective light. None of us can touch her."

"That goes without saying. I won't hurt your little friend. You wound me." He looked genuinely put out.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know. But I know what blood is and innocence and how delicious both can be. I know how much the girl tempts me."

"Then you must be the one to give in to that temptation," said Armand crossly. "I never choose my victims anymore, you know this. I can stand before a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms. Of course I won't hurt her. You do hold old grudges. You think I live in the past. You don't understand that I actually change with every era, I always have as best I can."

(Seriously, AMC, give us this scene! Lestat warning Armand specifically, not David, to not hurt someone he cares about but also entrusting this person to Armand's care despite how it turned out previously. And then Armand being salty about it because jeez, Lestat, that was like, so long ago I can't believe you'd bring that up!)

Also, "I can stand in front of a house as always, and out of the doors will come those who want to be in my arms." Made me think of this:

Anyway, then we get to see this:

"Lestat, if you need me--" Armand said. "If this being tries to take you by force!"

"Why do you care about me?" I asked. "After all the bad things I did to you. Why?"

"Oh, don't be such a fool," he begged gently. "You convinced me long ago that the world was a Savage Garden. Remember your old poetry? You said the only laws that were true were aesthetic laws, that was all you could count on."

"Yes, I remember all that. I fear it's true. I've always feared it was true. I feared it when I was a mortal child. I woke up one morning and believed in nothing."

"Well, then, in the Savage Garden," said Armand, "you shine beautifully, my friend. You walk as if it is your garden to do with as you please. And in my wanderings, I always return to you. I always return to see the colors of the garden in your shadow, or reflected in your eyes, perhaps, or to hear of your latest follies and mad obsessions. Besides, we are brothers, are we not?"

A few paragraphs later, Lestat tells Armand (and David, but hopefully Daniel in the show), "I love you both."

All that in one chapter! I just wanted to share it because I feel like other great Lesmand moments get referenced a lot, such as Armand's line from Blood Communion:

"Fool," he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn't suppress. "I have always loved you," he said. "I have loved you more than any being in all the world whim I've ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it."

And, like, that's an epic quote. I love it. But there's more to their relationship than all the bad things and this one quote!

I want to see Lestat do his part to destroy the CoS, including his "Gentleman Death" speech. I want to see Armand's attack on Lestat, him pleading to Lestat to let him accompany him and Gabrielle (promising to be Lestat's servant if that's what it takes), and Lestat rejecting him, partly because of their past and because he knows Armand needs to figure himself out apart from anyone else. I want to see Lestat entrust Nicki to Armand and then get the letter of how Armand chopped Nicki's hands off. I want to see the torture leading up to the play where Lestat is forced to watch Claudia die. I want to see Armand push Lestat off the tower. Because those are pivotal moments in their relationship, too! In particular, Armand attacking Lestat is basically why Lestat never pursues the sort of relationship that Armand wants, even though I would argue the love and affection is there, and that Lestat himself might wish differently at times.

All that pain and horror and tragedy, and then they both agree they can't remember any of it, and that even if/when they do, it's water under the bridge. "You shine beautifully, my friend." "I love you [.]"

Forgiveness is, for me, one of the most important themes of the Vampire Chronicles and, in my opinion, the Lesmand relationship is one of the best examples.

[braxiatel]

“Do you remember that thing we talked about after Last Life?” 

Mumbo is the little spoon tonight, curled up as tight as he can in Grian’s arms, with Scar reaching around Grian to place a steadying hand on Mumbo’s right hip. On most nights he would feel safe like this, but in truth he wishes he were the one to hold them both. 

Call it the folly of a mortal(ish) man or call it love; tonight he needs to believe that if he holds tight enough on his lovers, not even the Watchers can take them from him. 

“What time?” Scar asks. Mumbo recognised the gravel in his voice as exhaustion. 

“When we came back. I told you I didn’t know what was worse: going with you or being left behind.” 

Grian is wriggling, a sure sign of discomfort. Try as he might, Mumbo cannot ignore the phantom sensation of a blade plunged between his shoulders. 

Perhaps Scar feels the same after Grian betrayed him, low on time and low on options? 

“I have my answer now,” he whispers

Mumbo cannot tell if it is the artificial darkness contained by their curtains, or the dread in his heart weighing so heavy. 

Either way… 

“It’s so much worse to not know. Where you are, if you are okay, who you are becoming in that world.” 

What Mumbo hates most of all, is the feeling that Something, somewhere out there in the universe is pleased with him, when he next opens his mouth and proclaims: 

“So next time I’m coming with you.” 

———

Purple lights dance in the skies of Hermitcraft and the feeling of being Watched is nearly overwhelming. 

Scar is with him and Mumbo knows what to do. It’s time to go. 

“See you on the other side. I won’t blame you if you-” Scar gets no further before unseen hands wrap around them, stealing them from their home and tugging them apart, putting them each in their own little corner of a world not yet in flames. 

Where was he? 

Oh right! 

Mumbo has a game to win. 

[dsudis]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @tj-dragonblade, thanks for that! And for catching me when I've actually been writing, so here's the last thing I wrote today, a bit of my story about Hob knitting things for Dream:

----

That was not, however, Hob's only plan, which Dream only learned, at last, when he next came to visit Hob. It was only nine days after the last visit, when Dream finally admitted to himself that he was curious to see the fruits of Hob's intended labors. Much of his own work, as Lord of the Dreaming, was occupied in making, and tending to what he made, and in all his previous meetings with Hob he had never witnessed anything Hob created, let alone had his attention drawn so forcefully to what dreams Hob might imbue into such an object.

He told himself that this was a natural and reasonable curiosity, practically a professional interest. Hob had shown no reticence in discussing his plans or inviting Dream to assess the dreams of the skeins; he would have little reason to be more guarded in showing Dream the results.

Dream was not altogether certain how long it took to make a pair of socks, but he knew it was folly to attempt to guess, or to delay his next visit until he was confident that enough time had passed. Mortal time was ever perplexing to him, and he did not care to try to make sense of it now.

He returned to the place he had last left Hob, just outside the door to Hob's flat above the New Inn's taproom. It was well into the evening now and--Dream reached out to touch the dreams of those below to be sure--a Monday, a night when few would stay late in a drinking establishment. There was a very good chance he would find Hob at home.

Dream knocked.

An unknowable time passed, but Dream forced himself to be patient, to wait, and eventually the door opened to reveal Hob, looking for an instant confused and then delighted. "My friend! Come in, come in, welcome."

Dream went where he was invited, and had only just taken a tentative seat on the sofa when Hob produced a dark, soft bundle.

-----

Tagging ummmm @the-apocrypha, @pellaaearien, @teejaystumbles, @cuubism, and @toffeecape, and anyone else who wants to play!