#> its either finish these or finish the raphael one

[waloeders]

the two kos wip ive got n not finished r we getting the vibe. are we getting the vibe.

like ok. i need to actually finish my drawings n not just imagine it LMAO

tbf. o have only started wings tonight i knew we were getting more wings in game so i was waitin to get a better ref of ultimas wings

[junowritings]

Can I request headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn crush who can't genuinely can't tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them?

Anon dear nothing but kisses thank you for the amazing request and requesting my fav Tiefs~

I'd wanted to leave the scenarios between each vague when I began this; I swear this started off small but it's now like 2am and ten pages long but here we are!

Also I've only just finished Act 2 so I may not have been too accurate with Haarlep and the others' act 3 moments but I do hope you enjoy~

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Haarlep 

♡ You’ve certainly put yourself in it this time. Managing to earn the affections of an incubus like Haarlep? You’ve either done something very right, or so very very amusing.

♡ At the House of hope the lines between affection and lust have all but blurred for Haarlep long before you showed up snooping around in places you weren’t supposed to be. You aren’t the first one to be lured in and, if the place’s owner had its way, you most certainly wouldn’t be the last; but that doesn’t mean you can’t provide some worthwhile entertainment for the incubus you stumble across in Raphael’s quarters.

♡ The second you’d poked your head into the boudoir to snoop you’d caught Haarlep’s attention, if only for the fact that you most certainly shouldn’t have been poking around so brazenly. They’ve heard your name plenty of times; heard how you’ve toed the fine line of keeping Rapael on his toes at every turn without making an enemy of him - yet. You should know better than to test the limits like this - but you don’t, and that makes the thought of killing you so wasteful to Haarlep when there’s far more amusing ways to make use of you.

♡Maybe it was merely for curiosity’s sake that they allowed you to walk in and out of the place with your life and soul intact; the potential of getting to do something - or someone - fun too tempting to pass up on after wiling the days away with the same old faces. For you to come voluntarily traipsing round the corridors of Raphael’s very ‘home’? Knowing the consequences and either too brave or too foolish to heed them? Now that piques the incubus’ interest, enough that they’re willing to let you leave after they’ve had their fun. After all, they know you won’t be able to stay away for long.

♡ You keep coming back - of course you do. You’re fun to toy with - the most amusement that they’ve had in quite a while. Even with an unwanted guest squirming around in your head and time being a precious commodity when your corner of the world is on the line, you always have a penchant for coming back for more. And they are more than content to give you those reasons to keep coming back; you’ll never stray for long now that they’ve got their claws into you, of that they’re certain.

♡ Oftentimes your visits aren’t with the promise of fulfilling desires - at least not the carnal ones. Instead you make a habit of sneaking into Raphael’s boudoir just to keep them company, flashing them that mischievous grin as you stretch out onto that luxurious bed and eagerly pat the space beside you. Haarlep feigns the role of a lover well - they’ve had enough centuries to hone their craft after all. So even they know when the line between a mere amusement and something more affectionate begin to blur together when it comes to you. It's gradual, of course - those simple hours listening to you rattle away about the latest scandalous adventure as they gently card clawed fingers through your hair; watching those little twinges of content pleasure on your face as you lean into their touch almost instinctively. 

♡ Haarlep is intimate by nature, always wanting to keep a hand on you at all times no matter the form that they take. Even in the most mundane circumstances you’ll find claws rubbing soft circles into your sides, a head perched upon the crook of your shoulder and warm breaths against your ear just close enough to get you to squirm or playfully push them away. If they’re feeling particularly greedy they’ll hide you away from the world within their wings, pulling your attention to focus purely on them as their tail curls loosely around your leg.

♡ The first night that you make the mistake of drifting off right there in the incubus’ arms is the day that Haarlep puts a face to the emotion that rattles awake within their chest. When was the last time they had felt such affection? Adored for merely existing? The concept of love is inherently foreign for someone like Haarlep, who has long released any such ties the moment they were contracted to be Raphael’s personal mirror in bed. And yet the feeling is relished nonetheless. 

♡ Be it blind trust or mounting exhaustion that leads you to this they care not; they’re far more focused on engraving every little contour of your face to their mind, running a finger down the curve of your jaw with a pleased hum. Such a hopeless one they’ve managed to fall for - if only you knew just how much you drew them in.

♡ Haarlep knows full well that you must be a little clueless to keep willingly coming back to the incubus without thought of the potential consequences. One would mistake you for a fool, or someone who values their life so little - but you’re neither (most of the time), and it doesn’t take much for Haarlep to clock onto why that is. You’re hopeless at differentiating between platonic and romantic advances; poor thing. A better person would take pity on you, perhaps assuage your inner turmoil with a few simple words. But when the alternative is being able to get you squirm with just enough hints to keep you on your proverbial toes? Well, who could fault them for keeping you guessing? 

♡ Out of all of them, Haarlep is more than happy to keep you spinning with this ‘will they won’t they’ game that they have circling around your head all of the time. Why waste a good thing with something so frivolous when they already have you right where they want you? Away from prying eyes, tucked away in their arms as they make your head spin with honeyed words and teasing remarks of your little conundrum. There’s no need to spoil the party by putting a name to the blatant feelings that lay thick in the air, is there?

♡That’s what they believe at least while they have you. But alas there’s always the inevitable departure - time is ticking on the surface world, your world. And you can’t spend all of your days in the House of Hope for them to seek out whenever they wish, though the idea becomes more and more appealing with each passing day. They're always reluctant to see you leave, hoping to tempt you back with teases and promises, all the while their hands are on your hips and his tail is back to curling around your ankle as though intent on convincing you to stay. 

♡ They allow you to slip from their claws if you insist, but don’t think you won’t have eyes on you until the very second that you disappear through that portal, contemplating pulling you right back for one selfish reason or another. They have teased and pulled at your heartstrings about missing you before - a comment once said in jest to rile you up - but this time Haarlep’s the one who feels the familiar tug as they slink back to their familiar stage. There’s the ripple of shifting bones and infernal magic rippling through them as they don your form, standing before the mirror within Raphael’s quarters as they bring a hand up to affectionately caress the flesh of their - your - cheek. An imitation of the real thing, but it serves its purpose as they anticipate your return.

♡ Perhaps, they decide as they map out every inch of this reflection of you, they will wrap this little game up sooner than they thought. Better for the cat to snatch you up before a fox does, hm?

Dammon

♡ Nothing’s been easy since long before Dammon and the other Tieflings took up the journey to Baldur’s gate, hoping for a better life than the ones that they’re leaving behind. He’s had to leave a lot of things behind in pursuit of that better life - his forge and his tools, anything he couldn’t carry or risk going back for. Hells, he was limited to the clothes on his back and the essentials he’d been fortunate enough to take with him; but that was all he had left of his old life, and Dammon knows the others are the same. It’s not just material possessions either - any plans he once had about his future went up in smoke months ago, instead clinging to the hope of forging some kind of livelihood in the city when they finally arrived. Anything other than that? Any dreams of love? A partner? A family? A dream is all they’re set to remain as.

♡ Dammon’s thankful that there’s plenty of things to keep him busy. Sure the forge and tools at the grove don’t hold a candle to his setup back at his old place but it’s an excellent way to keep himself occupied whenever he finds himself getting restless and itching for the outlet of familiarity. While things remain a stalemate between the Tieflings and the druids, he passes the time helping where he can, repairing armor and weapons with what limited materials he has to make sure that no one’s going out there completely unarmed. It’s good work for now, and lets him stave off the pining, leaving the humored thoughts of kindling anything romantic with anyone for the lonely nights at his forge or tucked away in his books.

♡ That all changed once you came along of course.

♡ Your mere presence is a whirlwind of a tale in itself. Armor bashed and dented from something much larger than goblins, weapon looking as though it’s one good swing away from snapping in two. Hells, it looks like you took a tumble from a damned cliff and walked it off - a thought he admits to a few days after your first meeting. He decides it’s probably best not to ask when you laugh, patting his back with a shake of your head as you chuckle that he doesn’t know the half of it. Wherever you came from you’ve taken a hell of a beating, and yet you still look ready to take on the world as you amble over to his forge to browse his wares and introduce yourself to the tiefling.

♡ You make yourself known about the Grove, making fast friends with some and tolerable allies in others. Dammon’s firmly in the former category, and really enjoys having you around. Even if you don’t know much about smithing you humor him whenever he talks about his craft, listening with an eager ear whenever he gets that bright glint in his eye that signals he’s going to go on a tangent. Don’t mention it though - it will fluster him to the hells and back to know that you notice that kind of stuff. Not to mention you respect his space while he’s working. Dammon’s focus when his working is honed in on defining details and making each piece perfect in his own way, so it's easy to lose track of what’s going on around him when he’s bent over his forge with his newest labor of love. 

♡ Maybe that’s why you’re able to catch him by surprise so often, startled out of his own reverie spotting you leaning against the beam of his makeshift workspace. You comment how amazing it is to see him so immersed in his craft - it’s inspiring, really - and that small appraisal alone has his face turning a lovely shade of copper. His work’s been praised before - it’s the highlight of his days seeing people genuinely appreciate the things he creates with his own hands. But being the one receiving such praise rather than the items he makes does something to his poor heart.

♡Dammon recognizes that he’s beginning to fall for you. It’s not something that hits him all at once, more like a gradual wave of affections that wash over him with each little greeting or rushed wave as you dart around the camp and back out again on the next adventure. It makes him feel…lighter, warmer. He’s tried to remain hopeful about what the future holds, to keep morale going in his own way; but he’s just as uncertain about it all as the others are. But having you around? Seeing the lengths that you go to - both from the issues at the Grove to the attack on the inn and the conflict at Moonrise? That kind of life that he had to push on the backburner feels feasible now - and you’re beginning to become an integral part of it at every turn.

♡ Dammon’s love language is acts of service, so you can expect him to go out of his way to do things for you to make your life easier. It starts off small; giving you discounts on anything you buy from him and little freebies he can spare whenever things aren’t so dire. Dammon always believes that you deserve more however, so eventually you can find him going out of his way to fashion whatever materials he can spare into things for you. 

♡ He’s no jewel smith, but he knows his own craft well, so he’ll gift you things that he knows you’ll find useful - weapons . He’ll refuse any kind of payment you try to give him, assuring you that you deserve far more after all you’ve done as he gently presses your gold back into your palm with a warm smile, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. 

♡And yet you still wonder why the party strong-arms you into being the designated buyer whenever you stop by his forge for repairs or supplies - your lack of awareness is going to give Gale more gray hairs at this rate.

♡ The only problem with Dammon’s acts of service, is that it’s very easy to mistake these gestures as him just being a good person - which he is! You’ve seen how easily he goes out of his way to help others in a pinch. You were there when he went through all of that effort to help Karlach curb her infernal engine enough to give her the chance for closeness that she’d been deprived of for years. (after all she’d almost cracked your ribs returning the hug you’d given her to test if Dammon’s upgrade had worked.) It’s easy for you to rationalize all of his gifts as something that’s just platonic - you couldn’t hope for more, right?

♡ Dammon wishes so badly that you would.

♡Is certainly the most upfront about his crush out of all of the tieflings once he realizes that you struggle to discern any romantic intentions. Though he does worry that he’s the one misreading the situation and that you may not actually reciprocate the feelings he has for you, in the end it doesn’t stop him. He needs to get his feelings out there before they burn over - especially with what could very well be the end of the world dangling over everybody’s heads by the time you all finally reach Baldur’s gate. If he doesn’t do it now, he worries you’ll never get the chance to figure it out for yourself. 

♡ He’ll call you away from your companions, asking for a moment of your time at the back of his shop. Tucked away in the far corner of his workplace, it reminds him of back at the Grove curled over his forge with you by his side watching him work with a quiet admiration. The memory gives him the confidence to reach for your hand, noting the way your eyes widen and your breath catches. You’ve fought gods and toppled cults, and yet you’re left speechless by his touch? As if the tiefling couldn’t fall for you any more. 

♡ If he had his way, Dammon would give you something far better than just spilling his feelings, something more profound than just words. But he knows better, that you’re on borrowed time and a small moment whisked away in the back of his forge is all he can give you right now - with promises for a proper date and confession when you come back alive.

♡ Expect Dammon to go overboard with the gift though, because of course he won’t just leave it at words. He keeps flipping between something classic like flowers and sweet treats (maybe even craft some metalwork flowers himself?); or perhaps you’d like something more practical like a weapon or armor with custom engraving (that he absolutely put his signature on in the hopes it will remind you of him when you’re on the road.) In the end he decides to go with a combination of both, carefully tucked away somewhere safe to give to you whatever your answer may be.

Rolan

♡ The idea of a crush was, at the beginning, a laughable notion to Rolan. Back at the Grove his priority was focused on two things and two things alone - one, getting to Baldur’s gate to begin the apprenticeship he’s dreamed of for months; and two, getting Cal and Lia there with him in one piece. Anything beyond that was unimportant, at least, that’s what he told himself at the time to make the idea of leaving the Grove without the rest of them more palatable. But then of course some newcomer just had to step in during one of the bi-daily spats about it and that whole idea went up in the air along with whatever patience he may have had.

♡ You’d convinced him to stay, convinced him not to pack up and leave in just one conversation and he’d bended to your interjection just like that. Rolan still doesn’t know why he conceded, watching with furrowed brows as Lia rounded on you excited to figure out how you did that and Cal sighing in relief that the whole argument was finally over with. It doesn’t matter - soon you’ll be right back out of those gates, just another soul passing through, and you’d be gone as though you never existed in the first place.

♡ If only it was that simple, but no, you just had to stick around instead of carrying on your way. Perhaps it would have saved his heart the trouble if you hadn’t.

♡ His feelings are misplaced, mistaken for frustration watching you traipse around fixing problems he hasn’t been able to. At first it’s jealousy - another ugly feeling he won’t admit. How do you make helping people look so easy? Breathing life into the cracks that have formed between the two groups and patching them up as simply as you breathe? 

♡ It doesn’t help that you stop by to see him every time, a habit that persists long after your time in the Grove. Rolan believes it’s out of pity and the wizard is ready to give you an earful about it. But the longer you stick around the more he has to come to terms with the fact that it’s nothing as malicious as that - you just enjoy coming to see him, for whatever reason. Rolan doesn’t know at what point your company becomes more than tolerable, even enjoyable - but the idea of it being anything more than that, with anyone much less you, is a far off notion.

♡ Of course he doesn’t expect to fall for someone, and he most certainly doesn’t expect it to be you. He’s a stubborn soul, who is just as reluctant to come to terms with his own feelings, much less the realization that these feelings aren’t the closely guarded secret he believed them to be. 

♡ All it takes Cal makes an offhand comment once about how Rolan’s ‘complaints’ about you these days sound more like praises - that if he didn’t know any better it sounds like he actually loves having you around. And just like that Rolan very nearly chokes on the drink he was unfortunate enough to be imbibing in at the time. 

♡ Him? Have feelings for YOU?! You, some wayward adventurer with a penchant for sticking your nose in where it doesn’t rightly belong out of some presumed sense of duty to this little wayward band of Tieflings? Who goes out of your way to seek out his company again and again no matter how harshly he comes off in return? Who humors his temper, grins at his sarcastic wit, and gives him that damned smile that sometimes makes the warmth in his chest feel like it’s shooting straight up to his throat threatening to spill-

♡ Oh.

♡ Oh no.

♡ The lightbulb pings simultaneously, and it's a good thing you’re not around to hear his siblings absolutely losing it over the knowledge that their brother is stuck pining over you. Not even a few weeks ago he was cussing you out over some perceived slight that was childish in hindsight, spurred on by his own feelings of helplessness. But now? You still made his blood boil, but gods if it didn’t feel like his blood burned for you now.

♡ Rolan’s way of flirting is by showing off to you. He believes that his greatest asset to impress you is his magic, and is fully prepared to use the arsenal of non-lethal spells at his disposal in an attempt to get you swooning. During the celebration at the Grove he remembers fondly the sound of your applause at his performance, your eyes alight with mirth as the sky right above your heads came alive with the results of his magic. The satisfaction of witnessing your face light up in the glow had been worth it; you’d rolled your eyes at his admittedly overdramatic bow but still grinned as your expression softened in embers of the campfire. It still has that warmth Rolan’s begun associating with you kindling in his chest, so he sets on impressing you every chance he gets, with the hope that just maybe it’ll be enough to kindle a warmth within you too.

♡ Rolan insists that he’s not outright confessing to you because surely you already know? Granted he hasn’t been the most…open, about his feelings, nor has he been very direct in his approach where others would have been bold…

♡ Oh who is he kidding - the thought of your rejection scared off any attempts to confess before this point. You’ve always been there - coming in every time there’s been mortal peril to save his life and the lives of his family again and again. It’s hard not to feel as though he’s got nothing to give every time you prove your resilience - would you even want him after you’ve seen him at his worst? He’d much rather live with the torment than know the answer to that question, even if it gnaws at him every night.

♡ Before you ask, yes there’s a betting pool on who’s going to confess first. What began as an inside joke spread like wildfire amongst the group the second Mol caught wind of the lucrative deal. Rolan doesn’t know what’s more mortifying - the fact that his affections are blatantly obvious enough to everyone around the pair of you, or that despite all of this you’re the only one who has no idea.

♡ Someone else is going to have to break the stalemate that’s going on here and convince him to confess. Not just for your sake or Rolan’s, but because your respective groups are getting fed up with the building tension with no-one saying anything. Gods you can’t both be this dense can you?

♡ Yes. Yes you can. And no one is having a good time right now.

♡ Fortunately for the both of you, the aftermath of Moonrise is when the dam finally breaks on all of the things that Rolan’s been holding back. Loose lips sink ships, and in Rolan’s case all of the drinks he’d imbibed earlier attempting to drown his sorrows at the last light inn have eased the filter that kept his feelings at bay. It’s made him far more prone to speaking his mind, not to mention that he’s still reeling from the rush of relief at seeing his siblings alive - yet another thing he has to thank you for - so much so that he’s seeking you out before he can think otherwise.

♡ He doesn’t have to go far; you and Rolan nearly butt heads as he goes to shoot up from his seat, and though you look worse for wear still bearing the bruises and battered gear of a battle well won he watches your expression light up. All it takes is seeing you’ve come back alive, that you’ve come straight to him before you’ve even thought to patch yourself up and his resolve crumbles. 

♡ Rolan’s out of his chair and in your arms before you can blink, one hand winding through your hair and the other pressed against your back to stop you from falling flat on your ass with how swift he moves as he holds you like you’ll slip right through his fingers. He swears he can hear your heart hammering against his chest, too focused to notice the twitch of his tail curled round your leg. By the time he catches himself, Rolan practically goes rigid and pulls back, enough to see your face. The tiefling takes in your wide eyes and slack jaw with a sudden jolt of clarity that fuck, you really weren’t aware of what you were to him this whole time; and now he’s gone and-

♡ He opens his mouth again - whether to take it back or blame it on the drink. But before he can there’s arms around him, and suddenly he’s back in his chair with your face pressed into the crook of his neck, and he swears he sees a flash of red on your face enough to rival his own skin. You hold him tight enough that he has to focus a little to breathe, but it’s a sacrifice he makes gladly as his ears pick up on your hurried murmurs of ‘having no idea’ and ‘can’t believe it’ as you practically corner him into his seat.

♡ The moment is broken by the swift screech of “Finally!” from somewhere in the inn, and suddenly the world’s spinning again. Rolan’s glare over your shoulder in a bid to suss out the offending party is half-hearted, lacking any real bite in lieu of having someone far more important to focus his attention on.

Zevlor

♡ Welcome to slow burn two: electric boogaloo, and in this essay I will-

♡ Zevlor has not lived an easy life, even before the fall of Elturel; you can tell he’s got more than his fair share of scars and war stories behind those deep yellow eyes, the testament of a man who fights daily to hold the pieces of his hope and faith close to his heart. He’s a weathered soul, who many have relied on and put their faith in even in spite of his own perceived shortcomings. The tieflings that he leads to safe pastures are no different; they’re all hoping to find a better life at Baldur’s gate, and all of them turn to Zevlor to lead them all there. 

♡ The relief is almost palpable when you arrive through those gates, dragging Aradin and his men in behind you. You’d made short work of the goblins fighting to tear their way inside, still plucking bits of arrow and guts from the battered shell of your armor as you’d wandered into the Grove alongside the rest of your party. 

♡ He has every reason to believe that you’ll simply go on your way, knowing that you’re more than capable enough to handle the threats out on the road to leave the Grove in your peripherals without a second thought. Yet you don’t; instead you’re right back into the fray, pushing between the spat between himself and Aradin without hesitation with a sharp reminder that there’s more here at stake than some squabbling about something that could have - but didn’t - happen.

♡ Zevlor isn’t proud to admit that he’d hoped you’d be useful in easing tensions in the grove between the Tieflings and the druids. You’re a neutral third party, so to speak, and though he’s sure that the druids are set on locking down the grove and kicking them out to the wilds he hopes that someone like you will be able to at least buy them all some time. When that inevitably didn’t work he’s surprised to learn you’ve set your sights on the next best thing - forget just the goblins at the gate, you’re gearing your party up to take on the source at the heart of that camp.

♡ He’d be lying if he said he didn’t admire you from the beginning, a feeling that only becomes more profound the longer you’re around. Zevlor watches you humor Mattis’ salesmanship, sees you taking the time to train the others to better defend themselves and diffusing any quarrels on the daily rounds that you insist on joining the Tiefling on. It has a visible impact on the camp’s morale, and Zevlor has to wonder if you were truly just a passing adventurer or something more divine sent to them in their hour of need when he catches you conversing with the other tieflings, bringing smiles to their faces after months of hardships.

♡Another firm member of the ‘won’t broach the blatant pining in the room’ club. Zevlor’s lived long enough to put a name to the emotions that he’s feeling, and has taken the time to process what exactly that means when it comes to his feelings for you specifically. What he feels for you runs deeper than respect, deeper than the mere admiration that he held for you at your first encounter beyond the gates. 

♡You consume his thoughts every second that you’re not close to his side. Worries himself into a panic each time you leave the safety of the grove wanting to follow but kept rooted with his own duties. You’re more than capable of defending yourself as you’ve demonstrated time and time again, but gods if he doesn’t lament not being there to protect you as ardently as you do to others. It would be selfish to want such a thing, but it doesn’t stop him from craving it in the least.

♡ Out of every single being on this list, there is none more reluctant to confess to you that he’s begun to fall for you than Zevlor. He knows this affection; wishes for nothing more than to allow himself this small act of greed keeping it close and savoring the warmth it provides. But unless you say something that is as far as he is willing to dare your relationship to progress. 

♡ What really stops Zevlor from confessing is himself. He firmly believes that he’s simply not worthy of you. He’s a man who has made too many mistakes, made too many choices that have led to lives lost and consequences on those around him. Surely you deserve someone unmarred by that kind of life? Who can give you love uninhibited by the guilt and ghosts of one's past that plague him on so many sleepless nights?

♡ But oh how easily you’ve got this man curled around your finger, and you don’t even know it. Now that you’ve so thoroughly poured your life into the cracks of his soul, after everything you’ve done, that selfish want kindles a fire in his heart. He’d drop to his knees and pledge you his life if it meant having you look at him with a sliver of the affection he holds for you.

♡ The closest that Zevlor’s ever gotten to confessing to you was during the after party in the Grove. It had been the first time in who knows how long that Zevlor could try to shelve his worries for the future, to allow his guard to relax for the single night of revelry that this celebration offered. A respite like this was far too welcome, and Zevlor was about as ready to fall asleep where he stood as he was to wile the hours away enjoying the revelry.

♡ And there you were, the one responsible for it all leaning up against his side, thoroughly exhausted from doing the rounds around the camp but beaming with pride. His eyes were on you the moment you pressed a hand to his shoulder, golden eyes glowing in the light of the campfire taking in your ruddy cheeks and tired grin as you sighed over how good it was to finally see him smile.

♡ Perhaps it was the longing of a sentimental old tiefling, or being half drunk on the atmosphere that seeped into every fiber of the party, but in response he’d brought a hand to cover your own. Zevlor had guided it away from his shoulder and you’d allowed him to with ease. You’d watched with curious eyes as he’d brought your hand up just enough to brush his lips across your knuckles, ghosting over bruises and scrapes with an unspoken reverence.

♡ You’d never had the chance to ask him what you’d really meant to him back then - Alfira had interjected to veer you back over to the party, eager to show you the beginnings of her next song dedicated to your feats. And by the time you’d spun around to look for him again Zevlor had all but slipped away, gone for the rest of the night.

♡ By the time you reach Baldur’s gate you’re still struggling to discern Zevlor’s feelings from that night. That’s it; no one else can wait for you to realize the obvious anymore.

♡ Someone else is going to have to step in to give you a nudge in the right direction, and not a gentle nudge either - if you’re truly struggling to see how hard Zevlor is crushing on you you’re going to need an intervention. Don’t be surprised if your traveling party is the one to bite the arrow and do it. You have no idea whether to be confused or offended when they drag you aside to break it to you and ease their suffering. Astarion is griping on about how this started off entertaining but now is downright painful to watch you two eyeballing each other and not doing anything about it. Wyll is trying to stem the migraine he gets in his attempt to really drive home that you’re not just imagining all of these romantic moments you’ve had with Zevlor. And Lae’zel is several minutes away from clocking the entire group round the heads with the hilt of her sword for wasting time.

♡ She shoulders past the other two with a biting comment about their lack of efficiency before turning her attention back onto you. Her tone is sharp but not unkind as she quips that you’re wasting breath on your own perceptions of the tiefling’s actions. What you should focus on is what you want and how to get it. Besides, even a fool would notice the way he starts at your beck and call - she’d like to believe that you’re as competent as she thinks to put the pieces together.

♡ Lae’zel’s words do the trick. They watch your brain shoot through every train of thought you’ve been battling with all at once, eyes comically large and hand clamped over your mouth in a poor attempt to mask your scream of realization as you do exactly what she says. And then the next moment you’re scrambling past your companions, a frantic command for them to meet you back at the camp before you all but trip over the pavement beneath you in your haste to seek out the former hellrider.

♡ Once you find him, Zevlor almost jumps out of his skin with how hard you barrel through the door and into his home. He’s half a mind to worry that there’s something seriously wrong, immediately rounding to close the distance between you and place his hands upon your shoulders to keep you from falling flat on your face. The questions of concern die on his tongue the moment your hand cups his face, guiding him to look at your face and thumb brushing over the ridges of his cheek in such a way his mouth runs dry.

♡ When you finally blurt out what you came here for, asking through hurried breaths if he loves you Zevlor all but freezes beneath your touch. His eyes are wide, wild with the fear that you’ve come to turn him down and fully prepared to assure you that he’ll never burden you with his feelings ever again. That is till you continue for him. All it will take is a little reassurance on your part that he has nothing to fear, that you care for him in turn, and you’ll have this poor man practically crumbling into your awaiting arms as though you’ve slipped the weight of the world from his shoulders. Give him time, hold him for a little longer, and Zevlor will gladly regale you with the feelings he’d intended to leave unsaid for the rest of his days - he’d do anything you’d ask, after all.

[changeling-fae]

You know, thinking about how Raphael and the Emperor fill similar roles but with different methods and how Raphael’s “better the devil you know” takes on a double (triple?) meaning. Raphael straight up tells you what he is and uses that as leverage against the Emperor who deceives you pretty much the whole time.

And for a lot of people it works, people in general prefer honesty up front and while Raphael is absolutely a shady devil, most people would respect his candor over being lied to from the start. Not everyone of course, the Emperor’s tactics still seems to work on a lot of players, given how many never learn he was manipulating them from start to finish.

But I really do like the scene of Raphael laying out all his cards and giving you an opportunity to compare them against the Emperor.

The Emperor could argue he lied about who he was because no one would trust an illithid (which is likely true) but he now has the disadvantage of another shady being persuading his target because said shady being was up front with who he was.

I do vibe way more with Raphael (obviously lol), and I recognize a lot of it is, yeah he was upfront about who he is and his motives. And while arguably headcanon territory, it’s still pretty clear that Raphael has some “affection” (in his own way) for us versus the Emperor who the moment you break through his facade, clearly cannot feel affection.

When he tries to seduce your character and if you turn him down, the narrator actually makes a pretty clear note of planting suspicion about how fast and suspiciously quick the Emperor changed tactics and words despite 5 sec prior talking like he cares about us.

Actually I wouldn’t say it’s that headcanony that Raphael has an attachment to us, all the jokes aside about him having a crush, we get the evidence that he has an attachment from other places aside from Raphael’s mouth.

The diaries and plaque (if you sign the contract) proves it in the sense that in game, Raphael never expected us to see his writings or his vault. And the archivist in the vault says something along the lines about how special we are to Raphael and how Raphael has a “softer spot” for mortals than most, and the archivist says all this to us thinking we’re just some random devil in disguise. Information that wasn’t meant for our ears technically.

Meanwhile you got the Emperor over here who is very good at faking affection and sympathy until you start to examine him more. Then he drops it like a rock, it’s almost scary how quick he can.

Raphael is oddly relatable because he is kinda pathetic in his own way. You can see where and how he got to being who he is. The Emperor is, well, alien. He’s definitely very good at utilizing his old memories of when he was mortal to his advantage, but that mortal is dead and he’s basically just another illithid, just one who happens to be more independent than most.

And while this is all speculation on my part, it’s clear that Raphael both hates but is attached to mortals, likely because of his own existence. He’s half mortal but lives and is bound by the rules of hell like a devil. I think he envies some of the freedom to choose that mortals have, and that’s why he’s so insistent that mortals don’t have choice. He wants that freedom to choose but can’t because of his nature (“hell, hell, hell has its laws”) and he’s trying to convince either himself and/or mortals that they don’t have a choice either, to cover up that envy he feels.

Imagine being the child of one of the big bad archdevils who rules over a layer of hell. There probably is a level or feeling of helplessness that he never had a choice but to be what he is.

And you can contrast that with the Emperor who is no longer mortal and while definitely fighting for his own independence and freedom, is quite content to be what he is.

Considering the whole game has strong themes about choice, fate, and freedom, it’s just fun how even the antagonists shares those struggles same as our characters and the companions.

[creativeartgal]

THoughts on Obey Me ending

it feels weird to me that Obey Me is ending both app stories. it could stem from me not wanting it to end but this seems like a weird place to be ending it. Like it feels like it came to a surprise to the devs as well cause it felt like they were working on new things for every character and there are till things to be explained in game.

for example the dates. they just release dates for Lucifer and Mammon not long before the announcement. it seemed like something they were going to do for everyone eventually. like it would be kinda weird for it to just be for those two. like i guess the argument is that they are the most popular ones but it seemed like they were planning on making more. another thing (and this might be more of what i thought they were planning) is the additional focused events. like the one they did for lucifer appreciation and the younger brother appreciation. idk i thought they would be breaking it up into groups to include everyone. like one for Diavolo and Barbatos and one for the exchange students (Luke Simeon and Solomon) and maybe one for the new characters or you could add them into the other events. like add Mephisto in with dia and barbs for a royal event or add Thirteen and Raphael for an exchange student event.

another thing that bugs me is that I don't understand how they're planning on ending the story. as of right now the the last lesson to be released is lesson 56. that means we have 4 more lessons till the end and I don't know how they are going to do that. first we got the whole babble thing with Raphael which should take up most of 57. so what about the last 3? on a minor note I think Belphie and Levi still haven't done their sf competition ( I could make a whole other post about the science fair but ill leave it here). its either gonna be shoehorned in or we might not even get to finish that whole side quest. two what about the whole going to the past thing. with how its affecting mc magic it should be brought up to the rest of the cast but i fear we wont have enough time to go into a lot of detail , or hell what about nightbringer, you know the one who sent mc back in time. is that just dropped or is barbs just gonna be like yeah I did that cause we all know it was him. is Simeon turning into a demon gonna have enough time to be satisfying or is it just gonna just be swept under the rug in a oh guess it wasn't anything at all.

idk it just feels like something happened behind the scenes and now the writers and devs are having to rush an ending. especially since the celestial blessing has items that seem like they are just dropping stuff they wouldn't be able to otherwise. i can only hope that im just worrying over nothing and thing end in a somewhat satisfying way or at least be expanded apon in whatever they are planning next. sorry if this is rambly but i just wanted to get all my thoughts out.

[imababblekat]

Worth Promises?

**WARNINGS**: reader is not dead! i promise! but there is alluding to serious injuries and mentions of blood

~~~~~~~~

Anon Request,“May I request more Spiderman reader with the tmnt brothers??? Maybe Readers mask somehow comes off by being torn off by a villain or its heavily damaged from saving people”

~xXx~

Donnie paced back and forth, every now and then stopping to glance up at the raggedy old curtain that separated the infirmary from the rest of the base. Beside him Mikey sat, his face hidden in his folded arms over his legs, one bouncing anxiously. The two were not alone in their worry, Raphael and Leo also standing nearby, but the former was glaring daggers at the other. Feeling a hole burning into the side of his face by his brothers scowl, Leo snapped his voice.

“Go on, Raph. Spit it out already.”

Donnie and Mikey quickly looked toward the two, already sensing the oncoming argument that would ensue. Just as predicted, Raph pushed himself off the sewer wall with irritation to his tone.

“What are we doin’ just standin’ around?! We should be in there doin somethin.”

A red banded hand flung towards the direction of the infirmary, Leo’s gaze following to where their master had retreated moments prior, before returning with a matching glare back towards Raphael.

“You don’t trust Master Splinter’s skills?”

The buffer brother gritted his teeth, clenched fists falling to his stiff sides.

“You know it’s not that.”

“We did what we could.”

“Snipping already cut parts of their suit just enough to slap a bandaid on ain’t enough.”

“If you think slapping a bandaid on is the same as stitching multiple open cuts closed, then you and I have very different ideas on what that is.”

“Stop dodging the obvious, Leo. We should be in there! Helping Master Splinter finish up!”

“And you would risk breaking the one promise we swore by to do so?!”

“Yeah, I would! Cuz unlike you, Mr Righteous, I care more about whether or not they live than some stupid oath!”

Leonardo and Raphael were already deep in the others space, chest and shoulders squared and ready to go, but at the notion that he didn’t care about the teams mysterious, but very close friend, had a fire ignite in the leaders glaring eyes.

“Both of you! Enough!”

Out of nowhere, and with a strength and tone rarely used, Donnie had pushed the two apart, effectively sticking himself in between. His tone was riddled with shame for the two, not sparing either brother a strong look of disappointment that shot straight to their souls.

“Is now really the time for this? Now, when (s,p) needs us together the most?”

Turning to Raphael, Donnie’s gaze and tone turned gentle, sympathetic.

“Raph, you know how much each one of us want to be in there right now, but we also all made a promise. If we can stand by that we have to, for them. That’s why Master Splinter is in there and not us. He’s the best option we have to keep their secret. You know that as well as any of us.”

The red ninja turtle released a heavy breath through flared nostrils, visibly upset at the fact his tallest brother was right in all this. With a click of his tongue, Raph shoved past Donnie, not sparing anyone a glance and instead making way to his room, but not before frustratingly slamming his fist into a nearby wall.

Leo made to go talk with the angered brother, when a calm hand landed on his shoulder to stop him. Surprisingly it wasn’t Donnie, but Mikey who offered him a small lopsided smile.

“I’ll go talk to him. Just come get us if (s,p) wakes up ‘kay?”

Leo and Donnie watched as the youngest quickly trotted off to go talk some sense into Ralph, and while many would be shocked to see Mikey of all of them go, the two knew how particularly close him and Raph were. Once said turtle was out of sight after grabbing an orange crush as a peace offering, Leo heaved a heavy sigh, pinching the skin between his furrowed brows. Everything that had happened was starting to catch up with him, and combined with this latest fude with Raphael, a migraine was quickly forming.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Leo shook his head, looking to Donnie with a matching frown.

“I know. I just. . .what if he’s right? I know we all promised to never, under any circumstance, reveal their true identity, but does that really matter after what happened?”

He hated that part of him agreed with his hard headed brother, but from the difficulty won battle that occurred only a few hours earlier, Leo could not help the feeling. They had barely succeeded in the fight against rouge foot soldiers turned mutants, even with the help of their friendly neighborhood (s,p). When they did win though, it was like a huge weight off their shoulders, each brother giving the other high threes or chest bumps in celebration. However, the victory was short lived when they’d all turned to share in revelry with their super hero teammate, only to watch them collapse to the hard floor, breathless and bleeding.

The memory had Leo starting to feel sick to his stomach again like it had in that moment, and Donnie carefully lead him over to sit against some railing. The purple clad turtle offered his brother a reassuring pat, trying to not let his own memory of the event get the best of him as well.

“If we didn’t have Master Splinter, than yeah, it wouldn’t matter. But we had another option, and honestly, it’s a really good one. You know Splinter would never tell a soul or give any kind of give away at who they are. Plus, he rarely ever goes to the surface, so chances of him being in any danger for knowing their secret, or heck, even vice-versa, is like. . . zero point zero percent!”

A light chuckle came from Leo, his brothers analytical personality helping to make things feel a bit lighter. He reached to swing an arm around to rest on Donnie as well, the two now wearing tired smiles on their scaled faces.

“Thanks, Don.”

“Of course!”

He knew it was very unlikely, but Leo hoped that perhaps one day, his family wouldn’t have to worry about so much evil in the world. And maybe then, no one would have to hide any secrets, especially (s,p), who had managed to find a way into his heart right next to one of their closest human friends, (y,n). At the thought of the ninja brothers goober of a bestie, Leo was about to ask Donnie if he’d heard from you since the battle had occurred, when the shuffling of the infirmary's curtain had quickly caught their attention. The two brothers shot to their feet, seeing their father walk out with some dirtied towels and other discarded medical supplies.

Leo was quick to walk up to Master Splinter, Donnie right behind him, and greatly resisted the urge to peak through the slight gap between the curtain and the entrance.

“How are they?! Will they be okay?!”

“Was it as serious as it looked?! Were the supplies I had enough?!”

Master Splinter raised a hand, his long sleeve flowing with, and both sons stopped in their rapid talking. Lowering his hand to stroke at his long beard, Master Splinter simply nodded to the boys.

“Your friend will be just fine. Let them rest.”

Two very relieved sighs came simultaneously from each brother. Just as predicted, Master Splinter gave no inclination about now knowing the very famous (s,p) true identity, a seemingly familiar indifference of sorts the ninja turtles were used to.

“Thank you, Master. Don and I will tell the others, they’ll be so relieved.”, Leo grinned.

Master Splinter merely nodded, turning to dispose of the medical waste, his ears listening to his retreating sons, hands shaking with a deep sadness when he heard Leo question Donnie if he’d heard from you lately.

~xXx~

[alpaca-clouds]

Baldur's Gate 3 - Or: Why Endings are hard

The last few days I have seen quite a few posts going around about Act 3 and in general the ending of BG3. Which is understandable, because yes, the ending still kinda feels... off. Some decisions feel forced, some of the character endings feel unsatisfying, and how the game deals with Orin and Gortash also kinda feels off. There is a reason, why I did not write just one, but two fix its for the ending.

But let me talk a bit how this happens and why this is in fact quite a common thing to happen. If I had a dollar for everytime I enjoyed a thing where people were unhappy with the ending of the "thing", I would have enough to cover this month's rent lol

Now, let me talk about the most obvious fact first: Act 3 of BG3 is very long. Mostly because of all the side quests you can do - though you theoretically do not need to do, of course. Though even if you do only do the story-stuff, it is fairly long for one reason: The companion quest most finish up here.

As in my other stuff about the ending: Spoilers under the cut!

Let me quickly make a list of the stuff that is more or less essential to the plot happening in Act 3. Like, quite a bit of this you do not need to do to finish the game, but... For the story to properly finish up this is part of Act 3.

Confront Gortash (Karlach's quest is tied to this)

Confront Orin

Finish off Cazador

Save/Kill Shadowheart's parents

Save Duke Ravengard

Do the Balduran quest

Do the Sorceror's Tower and have Gale talk to Mystra

Deal in either way with the Githyanki revolution

The Counting House

Rescruit Minsc

Deal with Raphael in one way or another

Deal with the Elderbrain

That is a lot, right? And this is all without other sidequests that you can do in Act 3 (like dealing with Ethel and "Build-a-Clown").

The only companion, who does not give you anything to do in Act 3 is Halsin. (I don't know about Minthara, because I never managed to recruit her so far.) Okay, admittedly, also kinda Karlach, because you have to go against Gortash either way and other than that there is nothing that happens in her questline. Which, yes, is one of the reasons her ending feels so unsatisfying.

Now, I absolutely understand why this happens. Because of the thing we actually see with Karlach. It kinda feels off that one character does not really have anything to do towards the end. It feels unsatisfying.

Let me stay with Karlach for a moment. Because she is a good example. One of the main reasons her ending feels so unsatisfying is, that you do not really do a lot for her. Like, in Act 1 you fight Zariel's people sent after Karlach and talk to Dammon. In Act 2 you talk to Dammon. In Act 3 you fight Gortash, which you gotta do either way.

I would argue, that her ending would feel a lot more satisfying, even if it stayed the exact same, if you just were allowed to try and fix her. Maybe do something for the Gondians or Ironhands so they might try and fix her. Or try to get Gortash to fix her (like I wrote about). Or do a more complicated quest for Dammon to get something that might fix her. It does not need to actually work. But just you trying to do something would make the ending feel better.

I have seen people argue that Wyll has the weakest stuff in Act 3, which I very much do not agree with. Like, Wyll and Lae'zel both get a very short end of the stick in Act 2 (there is not really a lot happening for either in Act 2), but Wyll actually has two quests in Act 3, which is in fact more than anyone else. Especially as the Balduran quest ties him directly to the main plot.

Of course, I am still going to argue that Astarion and Shadowheart have the most satisfying ends of their questlines.

But let me get back to the main issue. The main story ending does feel... Hollow. And I think really that this boils down especially to one thing: The main plotline does take away your choices in Act 3. Yes, sure, you can try to become the new Absolute and stuff. But... That's about it.

Sure, you can ally with Gortash. But he dies either way.

You cannot really ally with Orin in any way.

And as I bemoaned so many times: The game forces you to choose whether to ally with the Emperor or Orpheus. Either way does only give minor differences for the ending. And no matter how much you allied yourself with the Emperor so far, he won't listen to you no matter what you say.

In the end the issue with Act 3 - as it is with so many of those endings in stuff that people felt were unsatisfying - is a pacing issues. You want to give all storylines (in this chase the character quests) a proper ending, which all needs to happen in that last Act, because it would feel off, if a main character does not get to do anything in that Act. (Again, like Karlach.)

Yes, I absolutely agree that we actually needed MORE STUFF in Act 3. Especially for Gortash and Orin. But on the other hand the third Act was already SO MUCH.

And that is without going into the problems of development cycles. Like, I don't know how bad it was with Larian working on Act 3, but especially the stuff with the Epilogue feels a lot like they actually did not finish everything. This feeling also gets supported by the fact that Act 3 to this day is more buggy than the first two Acts.

Yes, the problem is the writing - but given this is a game, that writing also needed to be implemented. Maybe they wanted to do more with Gortash and Orin - but they didn't get around to implementing it all.

If this was a non-interactive story, one could have probably tied up several character quests together. But of course that does not work here, because the game cannot know which characters you will have along in Act 3. Like, sure, it would totally make sense to tie up the plots of Karlach and Wyll. But there is a chance either might have died or left the party - or that you have not recruited one of them. Hence... bloating.

And really, the only thing one could do about it would be to add more. But that would make the bloating worse. It is... complicated. Planning stories is complicated.

[inevitably-ineffable-husbands]

Crowley's Past: Was He Archangel Camael?

With S2 now having been out for a few weeks, and the theories running wild, I think one of the unanimous beliefs within the fandom is that Crowley was SOME sort of Important Angel Before™. I touch upon the MANY clues in the various parts of my initial GOS2 Thoughts Meta, so I won't go into too many of those here, but inevitably this separate meta started out as the pulling-and-expanding-upon of the Archangel Crowley theory, primarily the "Raphael" theory, since I have loved that theory to bits since its inception early post-S1.

That was until my friend Peter finished watching the season early last week, and presented to me an alternative theory as to Crowley's identity that I thought deserved its own post breakdown, since I haven't seen this theory before.

NOW, I should make it clear I haven't been as DEEP in the fandom as many of y'all since S1 aired, so it's probably come up before S2 as just a light mention, but I personally haven't seen anything, so what follows is a joint speculation between my real-life, not-in-GO-fandom-spaces-whatsoever friend Peter, and myself, with my contributions being the expansion of his theory and linking it to what we already know.

The theory is this: Crowley might actually be Archangel Camael.

Please, PLEASE note that I am aware that authors and writers change things for creative liberty and originality, so please take this entire theory with a grain of salt (or go nuts with me, I'm happy either way!).

I'll TRY to keep this concise, but y'all know me. You can skip right to the "Conclusion" for a point-by-point breakdown if you don't want to read everything, but I hope you'll at least give me a chance to explain within the body of this meta.

I apologize in advance if any of my thoughts are a bit scattered. Here we go:

The Initial Text

Here is the initial text Peter sent to me after he finished watching S2 (and this was after I mentioned that the popular running fandom theory is that he's actually Raphael):

Okay… well - disclaimer I did not go to religious school and my biblical studies were a great many years ago. As I recall Lucifer was not one of the 7 archangels - he was meant to be but he rebelled before he was appointed (and there is some wiggle for a fictional story). So, based on what we have seen Crowley was one of the 7 but he hung out with the wrong people and asked too many questions. He never says his real name when we see him as an angel it is comically dodged - for a good reason. Crowley has a login and proves he had clearance way above a level 37th angel. He can see the top most important meetings… like he may have been allowed to attend in a previous life… And one line sticks out to me “one fallen prince has already gone to Hell. Two shows a problem.” As I stated Lucifer was not a Prince - we are not talking about him. Gabriel was banking on going to Hell like his “brother” - I’m guessing Camael, the one who Sees God - who ironically has cursed eyes now as a demon - the Prince of Fortitude (also Love and Charity). He often breaks his demonic spirit in cases of charitable needs or love. Crowley is one of the big Seven to be entrusted with creating the cosmos ;)

Naturally, this had a lot of things click for me, and I'm going to break them down below, with my additional research into the points that Peter made since he mentioned that he was going off memory.

Who Was Cameal?

When Peter mentioned this angel, it boggled my mind that I never actually recall knowing of this archangel. I went to a Roman Catholic school up until Grade 12, and with that comes Religious Ed classes, which also feature World Religions in the later grades. Funnily enough, I found out WHY I never heard of Camael:

Camael is not recognized by the Catholic Church due to the Vatican's decision to ban the veneration of angels not mentioned in the Bible [SOURCE]

Kind of explains why I only heard of Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael (which now adds another layer to a theory I will cover further down in "Does Crowley Remember?"), then.

Reading further:

[He] is the Archangel of strength, courage and war in Christian and Jewish mythology and angelology. [SOURCE] He is claimed to be the leader of the forces that expelled Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden holding a flaming sword. However, in iconography he is often depicted holding a cup. [SOURCE]

A Flaming Sword, you say??? Interesting. Here's a good place to point out that there IS also a theory that Crowley and Aziraphale are one single archangel that was split into two (and Gaiman has stated that in original drafts of the original book, they were at first one character, so this fact might be an afterthought of that original idea). Also, interesting that this angel is depicted with a cup, traditionally used in Christianity to depict wine, which is Crowley's drink-of-choice. So, there's that.

Another standout point for me is the Adam and Eve bit (which I bolded above). The Snake of Eden is TECHNICALLY the instigator (the "leader") who encouraged the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden. "Forces" in this reading of it could be the metaphorical definition of it; the knowledge of good and evil, and the desire to see beyond the Garden. AND also the Flaming Sword itself BEING the object of force given to the couple for protection.

Furthermore, Crowley's a strong and brave character, given all the shit he endures time and time again. Strength (and bravery for that matter) can mean many things: emotional strength, physical strength, possibly also a strength of character and an unwavering belief in the values one holds dear. I should also note that it's interesting that an angel of war, should Crowley indeed be this character, wants nothing to do with a war and is actively trying to stop one: an angel of War can absolutely NOT want a war, because he knows it's wrong.

And without the Angel of War up in Heaven to PREVENT any war at all? Well, they would just get all willy-nilly crazy on the idea of War without having any pushback on it, wouldn't they?

Kind of like how Gabriel was to be demoted (cast out) for denying Heaven a War. Funny old world, isn't it? Seems the parallels write themselves.

What's in a Name?

Because Peter mentioned the name meaning, I had to look into it myself, and indeed, one of the various meanings of Camael is apparently "he who sees God" in Hebrew.

As Peter stated above, I think this is very significant because it's seemingly only Crowley who has "demon" eyes that he himself cannot change. It's the ONLY part of him that always remains a constant, and why he is forced to hide them. We know from S1 and bits of S2 with Shax that other demons can change their eyes because we see them mimicking other humans time and again without the black eyes if they choose to.

Crowley's eyes could have been cursed specifically because was ordained as "the one who sees God" and possibly was the ONLY angel who ever "saw" a physical God in the literal sense (it's implied in the show that no one actually SEES a physical god). It's possible that Crowley being cast out literally burned his angelic eyes and left a visible scar that can't be fixed or erased – a forever-reminder of what he did and can no longer do. AND as the one who sees God, he indeed was a very high-ranking angel.

In the GO universe, I suspect he was indeed the FIRST Supreme Archangel, tasked with creating God's Vision (HAH) of the Universe. And when Crowley questioned what the point of creating such beauty was only for it to be destroyed, God (or, I suspect more likely, the other Angels) saw it as Crowley questioning their "vision" in the metaphorical sense.

Does Crowley Remember?

In light of Season 2, and some interesting exchanges and moments of Crowley with other angels, some people speculate (and as I watch the series more, I'm starting to also agree somewhat) that Crowley may not remember everything from Before.

Now, while I do like this theory a lot, and it makes sense with the context clues from S2, I don't think it's that he doesn't remember anything at all, however, as many versions of the theory postulates.

My speculation is this: what if, by having his Angelic Name removed from recognition in the Bible, and going through a similar Trial to Gabriel, THEN by Falling the traditional way, the memories are still there, but they're just a bit fuzzy and scattered? It could also explain why some of the other Archangels DON'T remember him... he was removed from the memories of other ranking angels (Saraqael is the only angel to seemingly remember who Crowley was, so I postulate that she WASN'T a top angel until fairly recently, because of the named angels in the next section).

The show brings up the Book of Life in S2 on several occasions, leaving me to believe that this will be an important item in the next season. What if the phrase "it will make it like you don't exist" literally means "don't exist in memories"? Maybe a Book of Life 1.0 existed at one time, and everyone who Fell was forgotten because their angelic names were removed. Because wouldn't that be more awful than never having existed? Remembering that you WERE something or someone, you had a name that you can't remember, that you WERE important to people and events, and having everyone around you who you considered family forget who you are? It's its own kind of personal Hell ... kind of like George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life, a movie that references angels, funnily enough. And Crowley remembers the furniture being there but not where it all belongs. I think his memory haziness is also a side effect of Falling the traditional way (burning sulfer and all that jazz, possibly causes trauma amnesia?).

It's a stretch here, I know, but I thought I would put this one out there as a possibility as to what it could mean (given that Gaiman and Pratchett tend to "play on words" a lot, I think it is worth mentioning this as an alternative meaning).

In S2, when Gabriel was sentenced, the Trial stated that Gabriel would forget his time as Gabriel, but not his time as an angel. I think a similar thing happened with Crowley, only much more violently with the "burning the eyes out" and "staining his wings black" thing.

My friend Peter mentioned that the show avoided Crowley's Before-Name "to a comical degree". I reckon, rather, that Crowley just simply doesn't remember his Angelic name, and his changing of his demon names is him possibly trying to find an identity. I think he recalls it having started with a "C", maybe? And now he's a snake, so he's kind of crawl-y, must be "Crawley". As time moved forward and as he learned more and more about humanity, he changed is namee to fit in better. Having a full Human-esque name makes him feel more connected to the Humanity he prefers.

And because I'm a romantic sap at heart, I think he enjoys spending time with Aziraphale because perhaps some part of Azzie's presence helps Crowley remember bits and pieces of his broken memory. He is LITERALLY Crowley's Emotional Support Angel – remember Shax can read into people, it seems. Azzie brings comfort to him, and seeing another Angel that also questions the choices Heaven makes allows Crowley to feel less alone.

The Original Seven Archangels

It's brought up a couple to several times in S2 the point that "God loves sevens". I actually couldn't remember why Seven was such a big Biblical number so a bit of quick Googling reminded me that "Seven [...] communicated a sense of “fullness” or “completeness” [...]. This makes sense of the pervasive appearance of “seven” patterns in the Bible." (SOURCE).

And of course, after Peter had mentioned it, I had to look a bit more into who the Original 7 could possibly be. Wikipedia mentions it could be Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Camael, Jophiel, and Zadkiel.

Peter was correct in his assumption that Lucifer wasn't one of the original 7 archangels, so that leaves us with Raphael, Camael, Jophiel, and Zadkiel, if we're assuming that Crowley is one of these top Archangels.

I would also like to speculate that "God likes 7's" could also mean (if you allow me to reach a bit) "God's favourite angels are the initial 7". If Crowley happened to be one of these 7, it could explain why he's able to get into Heaven without raising alarm at all, why he still maintains his immense power that set off alarms in Heaven when it was used purposefully against Heaven, why he was able to access the Gabriel Files, and why Sarqael allowed Crowley to continue watching the Trial (because if God allowed Crowley access even when he's no longer an angel, then Sarqael has no reason to believe that he's still not important to God).

Perhaps, in Modern Day, only having four archangels making the decisions symbolizes that, indeed, God's not really calling the shots anymore – and hasn't been for a long time – and that the whole system is all broken and not complete.

It also begs the question: if Crowley was one of the Original Seven (if they are indeed going to go in that direction), what happened to the other three? Did they also suffer the same fates? Were they turned to Scriveners just like Gabriel was to be?

Here is where I will also throw out there that my random thought that Muriel possibly also may have been one of the other three, as my own expansion of this theory, but I digress.

Anyway, I think I found the original Fandom Wiki that Peter quick-referenced when doing his quick message to me, and it's very interesting:

How they were founded as a unit is unknown, but it is said that it happened during Lucifer's rebellion. When Lucifer rebelled against God, one entire choir of angels followed him and was lost. Many angels from other choirs also followed him in his rebellion. It is revealed that Lucifer was meant to be apart of the Seven Archangels as well, however, since his fall he was replaced by Camael. 

Disclaimer here that I understand that Fandom Wiki isn't THE BEST resource, but we're also talking about a fictional story that loosely references actual scripture, so I think it's valid enough, heh.

But I bring this point up because Peter links it to Metatron mentioning the "Prince of Heaven" falling, as Gabriel as being "another" one. "Another one" what?? We have to assume that Metatron means another "Supreme Archangel" as holding the title of "Prince of Heaven", meaning Gabriel was NOT the first and only Supreme Archangel. I don't think Metatron is referencing Lucifer here. In fact, they deliberately avoid saying a name. We just ASSUME that it was Lucifer because that's the "common knowledge".

If GO is going to reference the theory that Lucifer actually fell BEFORE becoming an Archangel, then that means in my theory Crowley became his replacement of the Original Seven. And given that he was possibly the One (and only angel, in my above theory) Who Sees God, he was in-turn given the position of Supreme Archangel, charged with creating, again, God's Vision of the Universe.

I think having Crowley be the one who witnesses Gabriel's Trial is important if we're going on the theory that they are mirrors of each other in S2. What if:

Crowley ALSO had a similar Trial when he questioned God (or the other Archangels) about "what's the point of" the destruction of the universe, then subsequently saying "nah" to having Armageddon 6,000 years before the events of S1?;

In said Trial, Gabriel was a presiding member, and, given that we know his prior cruelty from S1, he voted on Camael being cast out in a vicious and cruel fashion "for betraying God". Thus, his eyes burnt and forever scarred to prevent him from ever seeing God again, had his name and memories removed from the Book of Life, and sent to on a one way trip to Hell. I speculate this because Trial-Gabriel certainly believe he was going to "Fall" that way. I'd also wager Camael/Crowley was the last angel to ever "properly" Fall, which is why the modern angels still think that they do it this way, rather than the way they planned for Gabriel. I realize that this point DOES contradict my theory about the other missing Archangels quietly being erased and reassigned, but perhaps BECAUSE Gabriel is SO High up the chain, they HAD no choice but to make an example of him. Perhaps Metatron just quietly deleted the other Archangels' original names without anyone's knowledge.

We now know from S2 that regardless of an angel's status, the angels will veto against anyone who goes against their interpretation of The Great Plan. We now also know that the "Supreme Archangel" is also a "title only" job that has benefits only if you're going to go with the Majority Vote. And if you don't, they're going to make an example out of you.

And I reckon Camael/Crowley, just like Gabriel after, tried to "go his own way" (as quoted by the Metatron) and got banished for it.

Aziraphale really now has himself in a pickle, and I suspect that he will figure ALL of this out when he gets there.

And finally because this is the "Sevens" section of this meta, I also want to mention these "a-bit-reaching-but-still-plausible-theories" that I came across while I was researching:

This tweet speculates that Gabe is morse coding "7"

Michael tweeted 7 dots after S2 aired

CONCLUSION

While this theory doesn't outright bust the Raphael Theory (since there are some similarities with Crowley and Raphael within the theory), as well as the "he was Lucifer" theory (which I also really like, but Crowley mentioned in S1 he was "hanging out with Lucifer and the guys" before he fell, so... I'm more apt to not really run with this theory). BUT it does tie up a lot more things, and it connects things better than the Raphael one does, in my humble opinion.

The TL;DR of this entire post is this:

I think Crowley was an Archangel, that is the only CERTAIN thing I feel.

I think he was Camael, The One (and only angel) Who (Literally) Sees God. He was the First Supreme Archangel who created God's Vision of the Universe.

I think that Camael questioned the Council of Angels why they need to destroy beauty that God created. It didn't make sense to him.

They told him about Armageddon (the S1 one). As the angel of war, and as the Supreme Archangel who had final say, he said "nah". And he tried "to go his own way" to avoid Armageddon.

The Council and Metatron did not like this, saw it as blaspheming against God. Camael then had a Trial similar to Gabriel's.

I think this all happened shortly after the war that sent down Lucifer and the other rebelling Angels, so Heaven was still VERY tetchy about anyone who questioned God and The Great Plan. Because Camael was a Supreme Archangel, the original Prince of Heaven, this was seen as SEVERE betrayal of the Council. For the record, I think the "Before the Beginning" sequence takes place AFTER the War that created Hell.

My belief about the Book of Life is that its ACTUAL purpose is to remove people from being remembered, which is far worse of an existence for someone banished. A metaphorical interpretation of "removed from existence" simply could mean "and everyone forgot about you", à la It's a Wonderful Life, a movie that references "angels getting their wings".

Camael was sentenced in a way that would make an example of him to other angels to remind them of their place: He was cast out of Heaven, his angelic name erased from the Book of Life which caused his other Council Members at the time to forget him, and for him to have foggy memories in turn, although he KNOWS he was an angel (perhaps as a side effect of being cast out the traditional way, you are forced to remember that you once lived in Heaven). His eyes were burnt out to quite literally leave an unremovable scar so he could no longer "see" God and their vision, which explains why Crowley cannot ever change his eyes regardless of how he presents himself. He has to hide them away.

I think Crowley was the last angel to be cast out in this way. BUT because his ANGEL name was erased, none of the remaining Original Council angels (Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel) recognize him. I suspect Sarqael remembers him because she was NOT an Archangel at the time since she was not one of the Original Seven Archangels.

I also suspect that there are purposely missing Archangels for a reason, and the fact that only 4 rather than 7 seemingly run things symbolizes the problems in Heaven and that God has not been in charge for a long time. I think those missing 3 or 4 are actually Scriveners, who were quietly sentenced and erased by the Metatron, hence why Gabriel thought that he was going to be cast out like his predecessor. But because Gabriel WAS a Supreme Archangel, he HAD to be made an example of, just as Crowley before.

"Supreme Archangel" is a Title-Only job, and if you go against the Council, you are indeed made an example of. I think this is purposeful setup for S3 to show that Azzie is in DEEP shit.

EPILOGUE

I still want to expand upon my Angel Theory section from my S2 Meta, but for now, I am so pleased with how this turned out, and I hope you've enjoyed this Deep Dive into another Archangel Theory. I had a lot of fun with this one; I like learning about supernatural things, it's always interesting.

I am interested in others' thoughts on this theory, especially if your memory of your religious education is a bit better than mine! Feel free to expand upon this more, because I am an interactive blog, so it will be added to the post! <3

I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

[boxfullaturtles]

tbh been sitting on this for months and was intending to post the characters together, but no one else is finished yet so here, take him

Kingdom Hearts Rise AU

Leonardo Hamato The self-designated Face Man of the group, he’s all smiles, charm, and wit. His charisma might be lacking in certain areas, but he knows how to please a crowd and he’s more clever than he gives himself credit for. He tends to get reckless during battle, either to show off or because his ego got the better of him. This has gotten him into trouble several times and it’s only the good graces of his brothers that have saved him. His battle style relies on speed and exploiting his opponent’s blind spots, keeping out of range until he rapidly closes the distance with his foe, delivers a devastating strike, and pulls back again.

Keyblade: Arc Hope A highly unusual Keyblade with its own special effect. It provides a balanced boost in Strength and Magic. Strength: +5 Magic: +5 Length: Medium Ability: Portal Chopped: A unique ability that allows the Keyblade to split into two separate blades.

[extra details under cut]

Team Attacks: + Michelangelo: Primetime Team up with Mikey, trap enemies in a cage of chains and portals, finishing them off with an explosion of fire and lightning.

+ Raphael: Odachi Bomb Team up with Raph and wield a gigantic sword made of energy from atop his shoulders, end by getting launched into the air and crashing into stunned foes.

+ Donatello: Disaster Duo Team up with Donnie, auto-lock onto nearby enemies and bury them under barrages of missiles, ending by dropping a huge bomb on them.

+ April: Thrill Seeker Team up with April and rapidly attack nearby enemies with a flurry of blows, finish them off with a blast of combined magic.

+ Casey: Hope Team up with Casey to summon pillars of light that shoot out of the ground around the battlefield, stunning any enemy that isn’t instantly destroyed.

------

More stuff about KH Rise Leo:

- He is the fastest of his teammates, moving so quickly he often appears to teleport in a streak of blue light. Moves significantly slower in water.

- Arc Hope sounds like silver bells when it strikes enemies and its particle effects are blue stars and lightning bolts. The runes on it pulse with a soft, blue light. Before the Fall sounds like swords clashing when it strikes, and its particle effects are red starbursts. After the Rise sounds like chimes when it strikes enemies and its particle effects are little baubles that flicker with the brothers’ colors. The pieces representing each of Leo’s brothers will occasionally glow softly and that light with travel up the blue lightning until it fades at the spikes.

- Leo is capable of making portals in this AU. Eventually, he becomes strong enough and gets good enough with them that he can use his portals to travel between worlds without the aid of a Gummi Ship.

- Raph made him wear the Power Band.

- Actually the worst about maintaining “world order” and regularly screws things up.

- Not allowed to drive the Turtle Tank Gummi Ship. He did once. Donnie almost skinned him alive afterwards.

- Still the team medic in the sense that he’s always got a surplus of Potions and Elixirs on hand. Also bandaids and neosporin for scrapes and cuts. He’s not great at Cure magic, but he knows how to cast it if he needs to.

- Doesn’t actually used the Portal Chopped ability a whole lot. He’s not overly fond of Before the Fall and is still struggling a lot with the concept that where there is Light, there must also be Darkness. He’s really got it in his head that Darkness equals Bad, and having a representation of Darkness (the Krang) as part of his Keyblades hurts and confuses him.

- Besides, he can’t abuse the hell out of his Portal Fever Command Style when Portal Chopped is active. And he does like to show off.

[ask me about him and the au I will talk about it all day]

[pouralaura]

guess I could do a wip wednesday

here's a wittle segment of the chapter that I swear I'll finish in the next couple of weeks. I'm closing in on 8k words. I have a full time job

who will burn who (Prof!Raph university AU) chapter 2

Friday’s class is a blur. Tav watches Raphael, as usual; listens to his smooth, syrupy, sinfully melodic voice as it dips into gravelly depths when he makes a point during his lecture. But it’s in one ear and out the other. There are insects buzzing in her head in the form of Haarlep and their generous fingers, and they’re saying the dirtiest fucking things. The image in her head has remained the same for the past twenty-four hours: her professor, doing exactly as Haarlep had described and getting off to all that he can glean of her wet little cunt through her panties. She has to bite down on her lip to keep herself focused enough. Still and cool in her chair, but damp between her legs and restless everywhere else. Raphael goads her too, even, in his way; calls on her more than once during the lecture, unsmiling. Tests her. It’s part of their game, the way he challenges her. Makes her recount a number of facts about Thomas Traherne and his religious works, which she does placidly, without complaint. He maintains a little too much eye contact before turning away, the ghost of a smirk on his handsome face if she looks closely enough. Unaffected. As usual.

Until he’s not – tomorrow – she hopes. 

He assigns them homework over the weekend, the audacious ponce. She leaves the room without looking at him, a sway in her step that says but I know you’re watching me. 

Saturday is a blur too, come to think of it. Its main activity is a long bath wherein Tav soaks until her fingers and toes are prunes, debating the merits of shaving too much versus not enough and then deciding not to change anything from what she normally does. Because, she tells herself, it’s me. It’s not a contest. He’s already won.

I’m the prize either way.

[wellhalesbells]

top 9 books

tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie - thank you and curse you, this is my least favorite/favorite thing to do!

The Starless Sea, Erin Morgenstern (a book about the love of books and story-telling, another great example of this is Cloud Cuckoo Land, by Anthony Doerr but this edges it out just a little in my all time faves. Also consider this a stand-in for Erin Morgenstern's other gem: The Night Circus.)

The Secret History, by Donna Tartt (I always waffle between the dark academia vibes of this or the snowy Amsterdam/dry Las Vegas heat of The Goldfinch - they're both absolute perfection and have gay undertones so they bounce back and forth depending on the day.)

Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides (you know how people use 'sweeping tale' to describe certain books? That's this one. It just whisks you away. I know everything there is to know about the Stephanides clan and I'm a better person for it.)

The Bedlam Stacks, by Natasha Pulley (Honestly, also consider this a stand-in for every Natasha Pulley book there is. Sometimes my favorite is The Half Life of Valery K, sometimes it's The Watchmaker of Filigree Street series, sometimes it's The Kingdoms; it's really whose yearning I'm vibing with the most that day: Valery and Shenkov? Thaniel and Mori? Merrick and Raphael? Joe and Kite? It varies.)

The Stand, by Stephen King (I also really want to put Holly in that spot, I just finished it and I haven't loved a Stephen King book like that since The Stand - the only reason I didn't is because Holly is, at least for now, the last book in a series that is a spin-off of a series and every other book in those series don't hit the level of Holly, at all.)

Anxious People, by Fredrik Backman (this can also act as a stand-in for A Man Called Ove as well since I love them both for the exact same reason - they believe in the best in people. They make you feel better about humanity in general.)

The House in the Cerulean Sea, by TJ Klune (I will also point out that I have yet to read a TJ Klune book I haven't loved and that is not an insignificant amount now. This one is an older queer love story with the added bonus of found family. It's magical and heart-full and kind)

Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir (Also a big lover of The Martian but this has something extra special for me - the alien was unique and I cared so much about every character that even glanced across the pages.)

Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers, by Jesse Q. Sutanto (I laughed, I loved, I goggled at Vera's incredible ability to bring people together - a more motley crew of people there is not and yet somehow Vera not only makes it work, she makes them family <3)

Special shoutout to Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus, I read this semi-recently (within the last year) so I don't know if my gaga-ness with it will fade or not but right now I'm like: this should absolutely be on this list, I just don't know if that's gonna hold or not. The writing is absolutely gorgeous and the plot is perfect, I just don't know if it's top ten nine perfect, y'know? Also to S.A. Cosby - Razorblade Tears is literally hanging off the end of this list by its fingernails (also read everything else by him because it's all good!).

Ongoing series - that either aren't finished or that I haven't finished so they're not cemented yet (aka Maddie cheats so she can have more spots): The Thursday Murder Club series, by Richard Osman (it's up to four books now and they are absolute perfection - it's a series that believes the best in people, even its villains, no one is allowed to be one note and you never know who it's going to pick up and keep forever), The Monk & Robot series, by Becky Chambers (it's just such a quiet, peaceful little sci-fi series that loves its characters and tea), Empire of the Vampire, by Jay Kristoff (absolutely no notes on the first book, I was stressed out and ravenous), The Infernal War Saga, by Hailey Turner (pitch perfect first two books, I'm obsessed with everyone and, like, borderline too into Honovi and Blaine??), Legends & Lattes, by Travis Baldree (this book is kind and it's found family and it's Cozy High Fantasy, like, who even knew how badly I needed that?! - a prequel is due out next month!), The Expanse series, by James S.A. Corey (okay, I know this is done but I am only through book six, though so far absolutely every one has been perfect), The Amina al-Sirafi Series, by S.A. Chakraborty (the first book is so good, which I am zero percent surprised by because I five-starred my way all the way through The Daevabad Trilogy as well!), and the Susan Ryeland series, by Anthony Horowitz (these mysteries are absolutely right up my alley - because who's investigating them? An editor of the first book's murdered author. I hope he can manage to keep these going because they are so damn good!)

tagged: @andavs, @maichan808, @callunavulgari, @midnightisquiet, @bleep0bleep, @petals42, @emeraldawn, @melowdeee, @alocalband, also anyone else who wants to do this - i love seeing people's literature tastes!!

[thatonefunnyfella]

Turtles of the Frontier

(An Apex Legends x ROTTMNT AU fan project, in collaboration with @shardkn1ght.)

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This is the second half of a collaborative piece Shardkn1ght and myself have been working on. Soph's half can be found HERE.

Whilst Soph handled the artistic side, it was my role to advise/be a consultant when coming up with an original origin story and to make sure everything was lore-friendly to Apex and Titanfall. On top of that, we've also made concepts for each character's abilities and an lore explanation for each. This post will serve to present that.

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Leonardo

Class: Assault

Can open red supply bins

Carry more ammo per stack

Tactical: Red-ear retraction (30s cooldown)

Leo hunkers down and uses a small personal dome shield to protect himself for a short time 

When the dome runs out, it emits a small shockwave around Leo, pushing enemies back and applying a stun effect for a short duration. 

Any damage the dome takes during its active state will increase the radius and duration of the stun. (maximum 15m, 10s)

Lore note: A relic from a bygone conflict. The now discontinued Hammond Robotics™ Red-ear titan-grade dome shield. Named after the aptly named turtle from the core system, the Red-ear shield was used as on-board protection for Atlas chassis based Titans and the Militia’s Vanguard class Titans. It would be attached to the Titan’s top hatch to protect the Pilot as they either embarked or disembarked. However it was never fully adopted by either the IMC or Frontier Militia as the top hatch was rarely ever used by most pilots, rather opting for the quicker and far less claustrophobic options. After finding one in an abandoned Hammond construction line, Leo had Donatello retrofit a kinetic feedback discharge system to it, making it repel anyone who gets too close.

Ultimate: ōdachi point

Leo can use his blade to phase breach a short distance to a designated point.

Unlike Ash, Leonardo’s phase breach does not stay open. This means he can’t be followed by hostiles, however his squad can’t follow either.

Lore note: Ash has seen the combat potential in Leonardo. Therefore, like her own sword,  Leo’s ōdachi has been modified by Ash to allow the blade to tear into the void to a non-adjacent location and end up there near instantaneously. Unlike Ash’s breacher, Leo’s can phase to a location outside his line of sight to get the drop on unsuspecting hostiles. 

Passive 1: Professionally trained

Jumping, falling, landing and climbing are all silent

Passive 2: Natural Born Leader

Leo gains a slight boost to his speed and jump height if one of his brothers are in his squad

This effect stacks if both of his squad mates are turtles

tier 1: 10% speed boost, 25% jump height

tier 2: 20% speed boost, 50% jump height

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Raphael

Class: Support

Can access extra loot from blue supply bins

Can craft unrecovered or expired ally banner cards

Tactical: Security Specialist (0s cooldown)

Raph holds up his forearms and utilizes repurposed armour plates from an old Scorch Titan and inhuman reaction time to block any incoming offense. (50% bullet damage reduction, 20% grenade damage reduction, 80% melee damage reduction)

No cooldown, however it requires a short start-up and finish animation.

No effect against legend abilities

Lore note: Using scraps of a Titan’s armour plates found in an abandoned Hammond facility, Raph had Donny create a set of armour plates that attach to his prosthetic arms.

Ultimate: Goliath Projection

Raph projects a monstrously sized holo-decoy of himself to swing wildly and guard an area (won’t actually do damage)

Any hostile that gets close will refuse to go any further

Will block lines of sight but can still be shot through

Lore note: Another of Hammond’s failed prototypes. The Titan-grade Holographic Decoy projector never saw combat, instead the only known use of it is in leaked Hammond Robotics™ test footage. Originally intended to be a Titan-sized counterpart to the more successful holo-pilot program, this old piece of tech was close to completion yet remained flawed. For starters, it drew too much power away from the Titan’s much more critical systems and was prone to overheating. Secondly, the projections would always move a little too fast; so it would’ve been easy to discern whether or not it was real. However, Raphael isn’t a Titan powered on a highly volatile nuclear reactor. But he is just as menacing. After having recovered it in the same abandoned Hammond facility Leo found his Red-ear shield, Raph had Donatello integrate it into his gear to allow it to project a Titan-sized decoy of Raphael.

Passive 1: Snapper’s Pressure

Upon landing from a height of 10m<, the weight of all of Raph’s gear will create a small seismic sock around him

Shockwave will push enemies back 

Won’t work whilst ADS

Passive 2: Big Muscles, Bigger Heart

Raph can use “Snapper’s Pressure” from a shorter height and with a larger radius (default is 2m) if one of his brothers is in his squad.

This effect stacks if both of his squad mates are turtles

tier 1: activates at 5m with 5m radius

tier 2: activates at ANY height with 7m radius

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Donatello

Class: Recon

Scan survey beacons to reveal next ring location

Uses bō staff to do so

Tactical: Soft-shell Intel (25s cooldown)

Donny uses his augmented shell equipped with Acolyte Pods to fire two Sonar darts wherever he aims

Enemies caught by the scan are revealed for 5 seconds.

Each dart has 10m radius

Both darts are fired on activation, however the second dart is delayed. This means Donny can fire it in a separate location from the first. 

Lore note: After finding an old, inoperable Tone Titan in an abandoned Hammond factory, Donatello reverse engineered some of the armaments found aboard the Titan. Most notably its Acolyte Pods and Sonar darts. Knowing that his battle shell can support a hefty amount of weight, he has crafted the reclaimed pods into a smaller, more personal weapon system, akin to the salvaged Northstar Acolyte Pods Valkyrie utilizes.

Ultimate: S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N

Donny uses his technologically enhanced bō staff to call down S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N, a Reaper who warpfalls onto a designated location.

Anyone who is underneath S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N when he lands will be instantly knocked down.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N can fire short-range anti-personnel rockets from his left arm at a slow rate of fire to suppress enemies or draw their fire

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s right arm weapon can be chosen by Donatello on his gauntlet before he’s called in:

Option 1. a slow-moving shield-draining ball of electricity, which will behave similar to that of the LG-97 Thunderbolt.

Option 2. A Branthium powered gravity well that can bring targets in close to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N

Option 3. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N can use a second anti-personnel rocket system which effectively doubles the rate of fire.

Anyone in S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s sight line is spotted for Donny and his squad

Will be active until destroyed or time runs out (60s).

Give an audible warning that a S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N has been deployed with the Reaper’s iconic screeching.

Lore note: “Scanning Hardware Emplacement Linked to Logic, Defence and OffeNce”, or S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N, is a heavily modified Reaper that Donatello has reprogrammed to aid him and his brothers in combat. With S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N being a model of Reaper that predates the design improvements Ash made during the late stages of the Frontier war, he fires at a slower rate and cannot deploy ticks. However, Donatello has equipped him with threat optics, an enhanced Operating System, and modular weapon capabilities, allowing Donny to equip a multitude of different tools onto S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. Mikey has also painted him Purple now.

Passive 1: Violent Streak

When Donny uses a grenade he has the option to either make it adhere to surfaces and enemies OR lay it down as a proximity activated mine (mine has to be set manually from close range).

Passive 2: Genius Engineer

If one of his brothers is in his squad, Donny’s Sonar Darts will give out a pulse-echo which will scan a second time

This effect stacks if both of his squad mates are turtles

tier 1: 2 scans per dart

tier 2: 3 scans per dart, third pulse is larger (20m radius)

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Michelangelo

Class: Skirmisher

Can scan care packages and see the highest tier item

Tactical: Lockup (30s cooldown)

Mikey uses his Kusari-fundo in a small area of effect to temporarily wrap up enemies in high-tensile wire and ignite them, causing burn damage over a short time (4 seconds).

Can hit multiple enemies at once.

3m width and 5m reach

Lore note: Whilst exploring an abandoned Hammond Robotics™ facility, Mikey found an old patent for a Pilot’s tool that never made it to production. A set of Kusari-fundo which use a high-tensile wire in place of a chain. This variant of the weapon was not so much meant for offense, more so utility. From what Mikey could see, it was equipped with a small yet powerful internal power supply, which would superheat the wire. The intention of this was to allow Pilots to wrap it around and melt through the extremities and weapon systems of hostile Titans. However with the advancements in Titan defences and with how quickly the battery depleted, the idea was left by the wayside. Mikey has instead found a way to fix the power issue, and the answers lie in Branthium.

Ultimate: Artist’s Intuition

Mikey pulls out a can of explosive spray paint and can tag any surface he chooses. 

Once the can runs out or he chooses to stop, Mikey can detonate the paint causing massive damage to anybody caught in the blast.

Useful for area denial

Lore note: Donny’s intellect and knack for high-explosives had pushed him to combine the two just to challenge himself, and so one day he did. The result was a nano-explosive that he found could bind itself to the Lead particles in Mikey’s spray paint. Once Mikey found out that Donny had been using his paint for his little science project, he hounded Donatello to let him use it for himself. Naturally, Donny didn’t trust that he wouldn’t accidentally kill himself, so he refused. Michelangelo, however, was unrelenting and so Donny eventually had to yield and give up the highly volatile tech to his gung-ho brother.

Passive 1: Rad Enough Ride

Mikey can perform 2 individual dashes using his Branthium powered, gravity defying board

Can be used for a speed boost, evasion, or to get in close

Uses a “fuel” gauge

Lore note: After the team of the Iris Project sent the remaining Branthium through the Phase Runner on Olympus and the rift was created, a sufficient supply of Branthium was distributed across the Outlands. However, not all of it went accounted for. A crate of the rare crystal was discovered by the Turtles and studied close by Donatello. He found that not only Does it have the potential to provide a near unlimited source of energy, but it also possesses gravitational  properties; a by-product of the crystal forming on the edge of event horizons. Donny found that by superheating the Branthium and making it rotate at a high enough velocity, he could create what was, for lack of a better term, a miniature sun. Of course he had to make a suitable containment vessel, so he employed the help of Dr. Mary Somers; whom has had her fair share of Branthium related encounters. And once they’d done so, he had essentially made a battery that could never deplete. A perfect external power source for Michelangelo’s newly acquired Kusari-fundo. Not only that, he could take advantage of Branthium’s Gravity-manipulation qualities to modify Mikey’s boring old skateboard into something much more useful in combat. And so with that, Michelangelo had his new gear hooked up to the Branthium battery mounted onto the back of his shell.

Passive 2: Boxed-in

If one of his brothers is in his squad, the width and reach of “Lockup” is increased, as well as the length of time enemies take damage .

This effect stacks if both of his squad mates are turtles

tier 1: 5m width and 7m reach

tier 2: 7m width and 10m reach plus enemies take extra damage over time.

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credits:

Character art - @shardkn1ght

Backgrounds - me

[gccdstories]

Azazel inhaled, his eyes squinting as he saw the sky for the first time. Just his luck it was breaking. He shifted, his wings flexing. He shut his eyes, delving deep into his magic - hoping to shield the -

---

He woke, coughing, by some miracle or curse he was alive. He crawled from his hole, seeing his brothers and sisters. Many had crawled from their prison. He turned, noticing Samyaza.

"What the fuck is happening?"

Samyaza squinted into the sky, it was growing darker, colder.

"The realms are opened. Which -"

"No shit Yaza, I mean why? Do you think -"

"No."

Azazel bristled but bit his tongue. Samyaza turned away, noting the fissures appearing in the sky. So they weren't free, they'd been accidentally freed. How long had the Imperator and the Council locked them in here?

Had it been 2,000 years? 50? Did Raphael even -

"We climb to the gates and try to fly out. Those who can't..."

Samyaza didn't finish that sentence. No one would survive.

-----

Azazel didn't know where the fuck he was. He saw a village, he smelled food. He turned away from the busier areas slipping into the forest. His hunger sharp and painful, apparently the prison hadn't let him feel hunger....hadn't let him really sleep either.

Small mercies or death by a thousand cuts whichever made easier sense. He lunged, grabbing a rabbit that tried to dart past him. He sank his teeth into its neck, draining its fear, its shock and tiredness. He ate the rest raw, needing to feed on its magic, on everything it was.

Whatever fae shifting thing it was - there was maybe more. Maybe more of his brothers and sisters had made it here and they could really go hunting

@siderealxmelody

She felt it, even if Raphael had tried to convince herself it was yet another dream. Another nightmare. Another hallucination or falsehood trying to drive her just as insane as the countless others had attempted to, throughout the many, many centuries that had passed.

She had convinced herself that it was better, putting him away. That it was the only way to find a path forward, a path where peace might be forged.

Even if that part of her that had screamed otherwise hadn't been able to be silenced completely. Even if it felt like every night since had sent Raphael reeling, falling and cursing to fates and beings that she had long-since stopped thinking cared for any of them.

Her entire foundation, crumbled. Her entire belief, her entire understanding of existence as it was supposed to be--shattered.

And it was all because of him.

She would never, ever forgive him for that.

Or at least, Raphael had tried to convince herself of such a thing.

Even if the pulse that tore through the cosmos felt like a rupture of life itself, of the very fabric of time, of space-- like the very realms shattering in a way she'd never, ever felt-- Didn't even think possible such a thing could happen and still have any life existing afterwards--

But it wasn't Death that Raphael followed from the small village, under the moonlight, cloaked in shadows that the scant night's light tried to pierce, but couldn't. It wasn't Death and decay that she tracked, as each step brought her closer to the feeling, to the thread that had pulled at her, that had tugged at her mind, at the very core of her entire being itself, to follow.

To find.

To seek.

Perhaps, if it had been Death, Raphael would have felt the pain less than what she did, as her breath caught, her wings shifted, her hair catching in the wind that blew the hood from her cloak and revealed her pale face in the moon's light. Her eyes landed on him, and on what was left of the poor thing he'd destroyed.

Nothing, Raphael thought, gaze glancing briefly at the carcass, at the small, tiny fragments that still existed, its magic still trying to cling to what it could, to find root in this realm again before they vanished completely.

But he had left nothing, and Raphael wondered if Death would have been a better friend to greet right then, than to see him again.

❝ ... ❞

She cannot say his name; she can barely even open her mouth. A part of Raphael wanted to deny he was even there, in front of her. That the nightmare that had plagued her essence for countless decades, centuries, was now here. As real as every image her mind had conjured.

But then, there were all those other nights when it was not a nightmare, but a dream. A wish. A hope. And she would awake in tears, feeling as if her heart and soul had shattered anew at the reminder that it was a stupid, foolish thing to hope for something like that.

Something that would never happen. That could never happen.

❝ ... How? ❞

[mimzaucracks]

Silly little Oz AU

I wanted to create something silly for Spooky Season, so I did.

(Click for better quality)

Leonardo is not Dorothy. The idea is that this would be like an actual episode of the show; he'd get Wizard of Oz'd into, well, Oz, and the episode would play out like an abridged and heavily toned down version of the The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900). Which in turn means that the others are not the other three Turtles, either. They are, however, styled after and voiced by the other three. So, instead of saying something like "Donatello", I'll either use "Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman" or simply "the Tin Woodman" (which of course also applies to the other two).

The idea of the Scarecrow, the most intelligent character in the main cast in the book, speaking like Michelangelo does in the show was too funny not to implement!

I imagine the dialogue in the scene where Leonardo and Kiki meet him would go something akin to:

“I'm going to the Emerald City to find the wizard to help me back to New York.” “You suppose that wizard dude could give me some brains?" "Yeah, I'm sure he can!" "Mondo tubuloso!”

Not sure if I want Leonardo to be outed as knowing the fact that the wizard is a fraud, though...

I put Leonardo in the silver shoes from the book, since I heavily doubt anyone would've cared for fighting MGM for the rights to use the ruby slippers. On Discord while sketching, we did joke that I could put him in silver Birkenstocks or ruby Crocs. Sadly, Crocs weren't invented until 2002 😔

I debated a lot who to cast who as. Leonardo in the role of Dorothy and Raphael as the Cowardly Lion were easy enough, but which one of the other two brothers to cast as the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman? Both Michelangelo and Donatello work for either, since the book characters' main traits are intelligence and empathy respectively, but I finally settled on the casting that I did. Like mentioned above, the Scarecrow with Michelangelo's speech pattern is absolutely hilarious, but I don't think that Donatello-as-the-Tin-Woodman's hilarity should be understated, either; especially since his canon name when he was human (turtle?) was Nick Chopper, which does fit Donatello's general strategy of repairing things in the TV show by hitting or kicking machines strangely well.

While sketching, I also joked that Raphael-as-the-Cowardly-Lion looks like Raphael just finished a Cats the musical rehearsal but hadn't told anyone and just got busted sneaking back into the Lair. I also accidentally coloured him piss yellow when I coloured the flats, which I suppose is fair. Yellow is actually a colour associated with cowardice (even though the Lion wasn't actually a coward at all, but we'll set that aside).

Speaking of colouring mishaps, when colouring the Tin Woodman's base colour, I decided to look up images of tin to find a good rough match. Well, it then hit me to double check whether tin actually does rust or not. And guess what, it doesn't. Thus, I got around the problem by making his bolts, screws and joints made of iron instead. He has to rust somehow; you cannot have a Wizard of Oz "adaptation" without [Dorothy] and the Scarecrow oiling him upon meeting him.

The Toto situation was a tricky one, since TMNT isn't really known for its prevalence of dogs. The only actual noteworthy canine characters I can think of in any iteration are Rahzar and Dogpound, and as funny as it would've been for me to cast Rahzar as Toto, truth be told I had honestly forgotten him and Tokka even existed in the cartoon. I briefly considered having April be Toto (somehow), but I refused to entertain that idea even more than I already had. Instead, I got around the Toto problem by just drawing a dog (here a Scottish terrier, like how I pictured Toto in my head) and then renaming it. And thus, Kiki! And I love her.

Also, fun fact, the Scarecrow actually wore blue in the book!

[creativeartgal]

Epic x Obey Me au spoilers

Since both obey me and epic ended this past month I wanted to ramble about this au I've been thinking about since I got into epic this past few months.

Ok so basically this started when I first heard the song Ruthlessness. I kinda knew about epic before this but this song was the first time I saved a song to my playlist. One day I was listening to it, and because I'm obsessed with obey me, I thought about what if this was Michael saying it to mc. And then I had a whole idea for a single self contained animatic that I never actually did cause im not confident enough to do it. (This idea was after season 2 of nb ended but before season 3) Basically it was Michael showing up cause he wants to kill the MC. Here Simeon takes the place of the cyclops but instead of him being blinded its him turning human and in this animatic this is how it would get revealed to everyone else. Then Michael would intimate MC but when it gets to the part "I mean you totally could have avoided this had you just killed my son" he would be looking to Lucifer or even shape shift to look like Lucifer in reference almost having to kill him with the knight dagger. And I didn't really have any really good idea on the rest of the song but had it put to the side in something I would eventually do. And after the thunder saga came out I finally gave in and decided to listen to the whole thing and became obsessed with it like I knew I would (my coworkers can prove this as I will just start signing whatever song from this that pops in my head that day)

While I was listening whenever Ruthlessness came up I would try to finish it up more and more and then I had a pretty decent idea on how it would go and then I was thinking it would be cool if I did a short thing with Monster where at the end during "then I'll become the monster..." Have my mc started showing a demon form and during "Penelope... and telemakus" sees Mammon and their kids and try to go to them but they fade away and the imagined demon form only for after the line "I'll become the monster" the demon form flashes briefly. Kinda also relevant but not fully I can totally see using Wouldn't You Like to be that part of season 1 og during the retreat when Solomon lends you magic to help make a pact with Asmo. It just fits his so well I'm so gonna do that eventually. Then at some point I had this idea for this Epic Au for Obey Me.

So in this Au is fully based on the songs except adding obey me characters in place of the epic ones. It can either start with Ruthlessness or that would be used as a flashback instead to explain how things got the way they are. Basically this is years after mc become a sorcerer. The world's are starting to get more open with each other and there are human and angels at rad for the Three Worlds Festival. MC is married and has kids with Mammon (granted this is cause I use my mc here but honestly the more I think about it, it makes more sense for it to be a Mc with Diavolo especially when considering the stuff that happens in Ithaca) everything is going well when Michael shows up with an army of Angels behind him (add in a unwilling Raphael for angst). Then the Ruthlessness idea but now demons angels and even humans are fighting in battle many of the main characters get injured but MC and Solomon somehow managed to help the others escape ala "all I have to do is open this bag" maybe a spell or a magical item I don't have all the kinks worked out yet. This is a start of a war between the three realms and MC and Solomon are basically forced to help fight for the Human realm even though MC wants to stay in the devildom with their family.

Then it would just go along the same as the musical, again I don't really have everything thing figured out. One other thing I wanna mention is that I can see Solomon taking the place of Athena it fits so well (maybe thirteen could be Hermes idk). Idk I just wanted to get this out there. If anyone wants to add to this or make your own au based on this pls do and either tag me or send me a link cause I would love to see it. I'm not the best at this kinda stuff but I know there are a lot of other people who could make something really good. I might still make those animatics eventually but I ain't making any promises lol

[mrfancyfoot]

Raphael x Evie (f!OC) | Fic Rating: E/Varied | Chapter 1 on AO3

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Chapter 12: Friendfiction "Raphael muses shipping, friendfiction, pet adoption, and dressing up his newest favorite plaything. And otherwise playing like he’s got a bunch of barbies."

Sooo I thought I had this chapter mostly finished when I posted the last one but the tone really bothered me and I had to tear it back apart. And make it way hornier. :)

Coming up next: Raphael snoops through Evie's journal + a scheming incubus.

Please mind the updated story tags on AO3 and see the (many) additional tags/warnings below if needed. ❤️

.

Ch. Rating: M / NSFW Ch. Word Count: 4.2k Ch. Tags: POV Raphael; Evie; Sleepovers; Gratuitous Character Analysis; A Biiit Angsty; A Devil’s Chaotic Thoughts; Affection-Starved Devil in Denial; Thirsty Devil; Size Difference/Size Kink Ch. Warnings: Non-Consensual, Non-Sexual Touching (by Raphael, Evie is asleep); Raphael’s Increasingly Obsessive Nature; Devil be Creeping; Devil Anatomy; A Devil’s Sexual Fantasies (References only to: Dub-Con, Contract Sex, Cock-Warming, Knotting, Pain, Sex Toys, Branding, Corruption, Servitude)

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Read under the cut or on AO3-

Raphael halted to compose himself before he entered his office.  Mephistopheles’ consort - an undesired guest plaguing him with demands all day, no doubt at the behest of his father - had been dealt with, though at the cost of the last of his nerves, and it would not do to have his desired guest see him in such a state.

All he yearned to do was step back to a quiet, peaceful evening before wading into the next flurry of work.

Would it have been more prudent to return the fox?  Unquestionably.

But he allowed himself to be selfish and reckless.

Just as he had been in the moments of conversation before he left his office, testing the waters with a new proposition he had been mulling.  The fox may turn her nose up at it now, but new seeds were sown within that pretty little head.  All’s more the pity that they were interrupted before he could further elucidate his vision.

The tea had proven to be a wise decision.  The moment her eyes lit up upon spotting the kettle, he knew the lure had set.  Watching her wiggle excitedly in her chair while mixing spices with a practiced hand had him regretting turning down her offer of a cup if only to have a taste of her preferred flavor profile in mind.

There would be a next time.

With the prospect of hot tea, sweet words fell from her lips as that tail swayed to and fro - indicative of her approval.

This was what he needed.  This was what was missing in the carefully curated order of his House of Hope.  That bit of soft.  A hedonistic retreat from the day to day - that wasn’t spying on him for his father.  Ever more during today’s irksome tribulations did his mind attempt to escape to her.  Tormenting debtors and souls had its fun but there was always something in the draw to one yet unbroken by the cruel hand of fate.

Either she miraculously found a way to be rid of the tadpole herself or she would crumble and turn to him for aid at the last moment.  He did not believe that she would allow herself to spew tentacles or die when she had so much ahead of her - ambitions he was keen to feed.  Although it meant she would have no need of signing that contract, there was a potential worthiness in the act of cleansing herself of the blight.

And an indulgent little thing like her would quickly come to crave what he had to offer in due time when that ambition of hers necessitated rest and results did not come fast enough.  There was a determined path ahead, but how would she fare freed upon the busy Gate with naught but her own lofty goals to drive her?

Should he have the Crown of Karsus - and he would - a much busier devil he would be with less time to spend indulging with a little fox that refused to sign his contract, no matter how favored she may be.  

Would she come crawling back for quiet respite?  For safety?  For companionship?  For advice?

She would seek him, long for him, hunger for him.

And when that craving became desperation, there he would be with arms thrown wide!

He opened the door and entered, his eyes automatically darting to where he had left her, only to find the table vacant.  The words he had prepared died on his tongue.  Scowling, his gaze quickly swept the room until he spied her.  In his desk chair.

Raphael slowly strode around the desk and stopped to regard her, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the edge.

She had fallen asleep.

Perhaps he had been kept away longer than he thought.

A flash of irritation boiled through his veins at the time taken from him.  His hand rose to send her back to her filthy camp but something occurred to him - a thought most pleasing - staying the action and smoothing the growing wrath from his face.

Curled into the seat of the chair like a pet awaiting her master, the little fox felt comfortable enough - with him, with his House - to allow herself to be so vulnerable.  Were he to send her back now, she would simply wake upon her bedroll and think nothing of it!  However, should he wait to do so until she stirred once more, she would be forced to consider the implications of her actions.

And he, generous and compassionate host that he was, would happily provide for such a weary guest.  After all, he had so rudely stepped out and made her wait on him.

He contemplated the room, searching for anything a hair out of order.  His absence was plenty time to allow for mischief.  A spell cast and he retraced her steps.

From the table to lounging in front of the fire, to pacing a rut through the middle of the room.  She eventually went to stare out one of the windows, sitting upon the settee for a time.  Then resumed her pacing.  Towards the far bookcases…and the near ones.  And then around and around his desk until she at last seated herself there.

The sheer audacity of commandeering his chair over all other options scattered around the room…  There were few others who had ever been so bold.  Or perhaps she was drawn to it because it was most associated with him.  A boundary tested or a boundary breached as she sought comfort when left all by her lonesome?

His desk was still in order, as was the rest of the room - save one thing.  Her prized little journal splayed open upon his desk to his searching gaze.  His fingers tested the quill and found it to be dry.  She hadn't so much as borrowed ink.  

It seemed she had behaved herself.

Rather than be satisfied that order was kept, there was a touch of…disappointment within him.

A number of tailored disciplinary measures had been spun up at the ready for the possible infractions of a naughty little fox.  From innocent mishap to egregious transgression- he salivated at the thought of having her at the mercy of his claws.

Made to sit posed and still upon one of his pedestals as he painted her figure.

Hand feeding him while perched upon his lap.

Contracts of servitude and more.

Clearing vermin from his House in her canine form.

Subjecting her to a few courses on proper etiquette.

An obedience collar to cinch around her neck.

Sat at his feet in nothing more than a collar and leash as he entertained guests.

Cleaning his House nude under the strictest of supervision.

Within his mind’s eye, he could starkly envision her wavering between bashful blush and indignant scowl when presented with a contract for reparations containing the terms by which she would serve him sexually.  Would she accept her fate or bare her fangs and challenge him, in denial of her own body’s desires?

He was particularly attached to the idea of having her warm his cock while he toiled away.  Would this petite, little body be able to take the bulk of his cock and knot?  He wouldn’t mind a bit of practice.  Allow her the mercy of starting with his other form.  Or stuffed full of some toy as she readied him with her mouth.  He was a patient devil, after all.  Though he did not often bother tying with his chosen lay, finding the time spent waiting to decouple tedious at best, the imagined vision of watching himself sink fully into her cunt and feeling it swallow his cock within a silky vice grip as he locked them together was so deliciously enticing it had him gnashing his teeth.  Nearly as enticing was how he imagined she would react, presuming such a coupling to be novel for her.  Writhing howls of pleasure?  Panicked yelps of pain?

His waking dreams contained a flirty fox purposefully crossing lines and breaking rules in a game of being punished.  A wonderful concept for prose whether or not he could tempt her in such a way.  Perhaps one day he would gift her with something…personalized?

So fond she was of flesh ink, he had pondered a brand.  Perhaps a variant of his seal?  Visible to show off the claim he had upon her?  Secreted to serve forever as an intimate reminder?

Catching sight of his abandoned glass from earlier, Raphael refilled it as he shifted his focus just slightly.

He summoned his quill and journal, flipped to the appropriate page, and began a more thorough record of observation of her features.  Any great writer would be taking advantage of penning the current events as they unfolded - as he was, of course - and to have one of its heroes under roof for such direct scrutiny was…serendipitous.

There were already a number of pages dedicated to their progress, traits, shortfalls.  Some worthy of more commentary than others.

In recent days, he found himself plagued by more fanciful musings for his writings.  The urge was quelled as he told himself that he would only truly revel in it once the Crown was in his grasp, but that did little to stop the dreams and waking thoughts.

Clever he swooping in to save a certain damsel from the tricks and traps of another…

A tempestuous roil of seduction as she is lured from another…

Explorations of her spiralling corruption and fall at his feet…

He paced, quill quickly jotting his thoughts as his eyes honed in on every detail, fine and broad.  To paint a picture with words- No time to be sparse with ink while the opportunity presented itself!

The overly expressive, large ears studded with glinting metal and chips of twinkling gems surrounded by the deep copper curls that flowed loose to her collar.  The short wisps of dark fur that trailed down the back of her jaw.  The gentle bow and pout of full lips.  The teensy fangs hidden behind that flashed with every grin and grimace - could they even rend flesh?  The color of the flush upon her cheeks - coral, salmon?

The way her brows sloped over wide eyes with fans of curled lashes and the frown lines between them, present even in her sleep.  The blackened rings around her eyes that couldn't hide the progressive exhaustion of a long journey taking its toll.

Her eyes- One of her more alluring features, he would say.  If one ignored what wriggled hidden just behind her right.  She didn't need to be awake for him to recall their color of a clear evening sky just after sunset.

Raphael’s nose scrunched at the sight of faint scarring along her neck from where the vampling had fed of her.  A proof that she would give of herself to another in the mar upon otherwise smooth, pale skin flecked plentifully with sun marks.

He told himself the rush of something waspish was merely frustration at her refusal to sign his contract, at her unyielding nature, and not because he was developing a possessiveness for more than her soul.

His quill paused as he momentarily mused this other character.

Astarion.  His was a role to which he found himself giving more attention due to his clinging to the fox.  The spawn had a thirst for freedom and power - desires easily exploited.  He wasn’t his first choice to cast for a leading role in his next ‘play,’ but perhaps the script needed some adjustments.

He was still of the opinion that the Blade made a finer choice but this dear, little fox wasn’t…getting along with Wyll quite like he had hoped.  Strong, dashing lad - and she reportedly paid him little notice beyond their duties.  Perhaps it was simply because the vampling had been driven with his attempts to manipulate and seduce her - oh, how he wished he had witnessed the breaking point!  At what point did she capitulate?  Had the spawn been more to her tastes?   A pretty face and a sense of danger?  A powerful aphrodisiac to many.  Though the warlock had certainly taken his precious time with his own attempts to court her.  At times, a useful strategy in the realm of mortal courtship - except where there was obvious competition and the duress of outside forces.  Too little, too late.  The Blade was not out of the picture just yet, but he was edging reassignment to a supporting role.

And yet, nearly as quickly as her affair with the spawn had begun, so it ended.  ‘Why’ was an elusive, flighted thing in their continued close association.  Incompatible in the bedroll?  Or was the rutting just abysmal?  Were there fascinating secrets shared only between bedsheets and reeds?  It mattered not but to sate his own curiosity.  A bond of intimacy lost, though ultimately of no concern so long as they continued to perform for him as desired.  It only meant the vacancy was that much easier to claim himself.  

And Wyll, eager and brave Blade of the Frontiers, who had begun as his own cast favorite among the soon-to-be Heroes of Baldur’s Gate, was lost ever increasingly to the shadow of this waif before him.

Dearest Evie on her lonesome would hardly be a force against the mundane ferocities hidden in Baldur’s Gate - would she be able to continue drawing in others to follow her whims?

Raphael rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms.

A re-evaluation of her role was needed.  While he penned the script, she was- had become…more than a mere actor following his lines.

The stage director.  Following his pen even unknowingly.  Involved, yet a degree removed from the action.  Ineffective without a cast at her beck and call.

Lax with improvisations and annoyingly prone to adding her own write-ins.

Foolish, reckless, inattentive…ambitious, innovative, cunning.  There was an eager, sharp intelligence behind those doe eyes.  He had done himself a disservice in not recognising it for so long through the bevy of odd behaviors and assumed apathy from her oft fool-go-lucky demeanor.  She played off the blanket of innocence and ignorance naively thrown upon her by others who missed that this soft, cute furball with large ears was a predator and no rabbit.

But he was still the stronger, the quicker, the more cunning, the more ambitious fox in this dance and this vixen would submit to his will.

Underestimation of one’s quarry led to mistakes.  He would not do so again.

With gentle yet firm direction, she would prove ever useful.  Evie was eager to please and to find a new purpose - so long as it was on ‘her’ terms.  The City needed to thrive in its depravity and debauchery lest it all crumble and deplete a fount of ready, needy souls.  For that, it required stability and order as it rebuilt.

Wyll had the connections and all the makings of a hero that the people of the City would grasp…but Astarion had a ruthlessness and need for control that could prove the same ultimate result, if tempered by someone’s rosy idealism.  While this idealistic fox had the brains, she needed power and tough follow-through.

Alas, at times one had to be flexible to account for such developing schisms.

It was time that he observed the workings of the blighted group in person as they tumbled about on their way like a litter of lost pups.  Reports and scrying were but half-measures to personal witness.  There was other business to see to in their vicinity, as well.

He stopped his restless pacing and lifted his nose.

Mixed with her natural scent, she smelled of honey and herbs.  Light, medicinal.  A not unpleasant combination, but there were surely ones that would suit her far better.  Something thematically heady and exotic…  Vanilla.  With sweet top notes of-

The pull of her shirt drew his eye as she shifted in her sleep, and he stooped closer.  It revealed more of the tattoo curling around her bicep: ever so delicately detailed leaves and flowers climbing up and over her shoulder to disappear under fabric.  He recognised them readily as the amusingly toxic devil's flower - intriguing.

Tonight’s ragged scraps she tried to pass as clothing left little of her figure to the imagination - had the choice been intentional or another unconscious bid to stir the appetites within him?  Rather than lust, it invoked the image of so many of his debtors.  Desperate, in need…pathetic.

She was not one of them.

She would serve a higher purpose.

How he itched to shred it from her.

One would hardly know the figure she had - a full, abundant bosom with nipples teasing the threadbare material; the slope of a trim waist over a plump stomach cradled by wide hips - so hidden were they under the hideously ill-fitting clothing and armor she always wore.  How tragic.  Those ‘shorts’ of hers, however - tight around an ass that called for him to sink his claws into it - left ample thigh free to his hungry gaze.

He did so love playing with his toys.  Perhaps a touch of extra generosity was called for.  A preview, of sorts.

The evening elegance of flowing silk.  The midnight sin of taunting gossamer.

Skintight leather.  Innocent lace.  Rich velvet.

She would look lovely robed in his colors.

There had been frequent playthings over the years.  A willing body was never difficult to find.  Trysts and momentary flights of fancy until he inevitably grew bored of them - despite his qualms with Haarlep, they made a fine catalogue of flesh to revisit should the urge strike.  All the same simpering, drooling, predictability.  Even the most pious were so easily corrupted and broken.  All becoming of little value save the holes into which he could sink his cock and the soul to be reaped from their bodies.

Yet never had he felt this attracted to…this possessive and conflicted about a mortal.

Already, she had provided more ponderance and entertainment than innumerable others.  The depths of his mind left no single option but to possess, eagerly devising the ideal chamber within his House of Hope for a new pet.  There were plenty of other options to play warden for Baldur’s Gate, it insisted, why not keep this one safely locked away?  It took advantage of every little note and observance he had made of her preferences and attributes.  It craved her affection, her attention, her praise, her softness.

She would come to see that he was a generous master, able to provide anything she could desire.  In turn, he would own her soul, body, and mind.

There was part of a spire that could be converted.  A spacious, private hideaway for two.  

A gilded cage for his retreat.

He shook his head of the intrusive thoughts.  This required patience and control.  While she may now be behaving more as desired, he had no present means by which to keep her and abandoning his initial plans for her use may not be the wisest.

The wispy fur of her ears was visibly a different texture than her hair.  The same fur had grown to gather at her elbows and the backs of her calves.  Would she stir if…?

Casting a glance down her figure, her tail was different yet, with long, smooth guard hairs atop a thick undercoat.  Not prehensile and he could tell it had heft from the way she held it.  A frequent amusement was watching it bristle and splay with her frustration - such an animalistic response for one to give the illusion of being larger and more intimidating that served only to make her appear…fluffy.

He tilted his head in thought, then, giving into the impulse with a grin, reached forward and drew his knuckles over her temple and up the ridge of her ear, as one would a dog or cat.  And like a dog's, it folded down under the gesture.

It felt of soft down against her silky hair.

When she showed no further movement, he ran his hand down her tail, finding it, too, to be quite pillowy and soft.  The end flicked and she pulled it closer up her front to grasp within her arms with a sigh.

He would have to save her pelt should she perish.

Spirit-gifted traits that melded seamlessly with her human features.  Similar - yet so different - to the werefoxes of Cormyr.  And how would she fare with and because of them?  They had made their way through the region and sown mistrust with their ways and wiles.

Such magic wasn't always so kind to those on the receiving end depending on how mischievous the spirit felt.  Another show of luck - or deliberation.  He wasn’t concerned about the nature spirit, yet with it not having any prior account in this script of events and concerning his favorite associate, it now, too, fell under the charge of further research.

Feeling bolder that she wouldn’t wake, he carefully took hold of her hand - diminutive within his own - noting the smooth, raised ridge down each of her pale, sloping claws.  It seemed she'd found a file, the points kept short and blunted.  There was a certain satisfaction in seeing hers contrasted so starkly with the sharp, piercing black of his own.  Though a few showed signs of old paint and being chewed…  

While the fox could wear a mask of stoicism well, she had anxieties floating about that head of hers, after all.  He merely had to find the cracks in the porcelain she hid behind.

She wore a simple silver ring of…hard sap studded with ants.  No enchantment.  A sentimental trinket?

Ink stained her flesh in streaks and smudges.  Clumsy with a quill.

So…bafflingly graceless in so much of what she did.  Was it merely a product of the events or was this a true self?

He recalled her complaints about quills and suspected inexperience could be cause for that.  Her penchant for walking into walls, tables, and tripping over her own feet had no such excuse.  Alas, no broken centerpieces for which to extract a penance…yet.

If she had not already made this far, he would have been tempted to bet on her undisciplined attention getting the best of her.  The only thing equally confounding was the degree of sheer, dumb luck upon which she floated obliviously.

Perhaps he was still coming to terms that this…mess of an unrefined cur was what had become a linchpin in nearly every scheme he had conceived to seize the Crown of Karsus.  Inelegant, all the strength and fierceness of a feeble newborn, a fish threshing out of water.

No.  If his convictions wavered, so, too, would she.

She now saw him as a source of trusted guidance and so long as that remained, his plans progressed.  Her soul was desirous but the Crown was his priority.  He would play to her strengths and idealism to bring her to heel.

There was a small symbol inked at the base of her thumb that he had eyed previously.  A few letters and symbols came to mind but they were not quite a fit.  Equally permanent, fine lines of delicate, mimicked lace encircled her wrist.

The old calluses she wore were not of someone used to hard labor.  No…everything about her, even this, screamed soft.  From their size and positioning, he would guess writing, possibly drawing or painting, and instruments.  A child of the arts.

He could not recall ever seeing her with an instrument - not that they had ventured across many in any state of working condition in the wilds.  With her developing magic, one would be an easy focus should she have even the barest amount of talent.  Perhaps a fun intervention to plant one for her to stumble across.

The newer calluses forming on her palms and the undersides of her fingers belonged to that hammer she'd taken to.  An inelegant bludgeon for one with no other combat weaponry skills.  These soft hands had never known such harsh trials before now.

A pity he couldn't see more of her just yet.  A gentleman he would remain, for now.  Allowing Haarlep to have their way as they so begged - incessantly badgering by the day since she had ‘unfairly’ escaped their grasp - was tempting for the access.  Though he couldn't chance her being broken before she at least served her current use.  He would have the Crown.

And her off-handed words those weeks ago of being akin to ‘fucking a forgery’ had frustratingly crept under his skin, loathe as he was to admit it.  He knew that if he allowed the decadence that he would never be happy with a mere copy.

Haarlep acted as a sensually idealised version of how they believed someone acted.  Evie acted how Evie acted - unpredictably.  Haarlep would never come close to a perfect imitation.  He was introspective enough to know that Evie being Evie was what drew him to her.  Every time he thought he had her puzzled out, she threw it in his face!

And the thought of Haarlep having any part of her made his blood boil.  There were many things he graciously shared with the ungrateful incubus…but this one would remain his alone until he grew bored of her.

He scowled down at her slumbering form with a creeping annoyance.  A snap of his fingers and she was out of his sight, sent off to one of his guest rooms as he snatched up her journal and reclaimed his chair.

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[blackjackkent]

Lae'zel and Voss re-uniting after the conversation with Raphael is the most enthusiastic I have seen either of them be about anything.

"Voss, friend to the Comet."

"Lae'zel of K'liir. Warrior of warriors."

In a way it's not surprising, since both of them are way out in the weeds of rebellion against Vlaakith, and so a friendly face in that fight is no doubt good to see. Hector still isn't really sure what to think of Voss, though. He approves of Lae'zel turning against Vlaakith but thinks in some ways Voss is just encouraging Lae'zel to trade one blind loyalty for another, and there may be parts of his agenda he has not revealed.

On the other hand - Voss seems far more beaten down and less in control of the situation than the last time they saw him. He looks towards Hector with urgent desperation in his eyes.

"Tell me you took the devil's deal. Tell me you will free Gith's heir."

"No," Hector answers calmly, just as he answered Lae'zel before. "I will find another way to liberate Orpheus."

Voss narrows his eyes skeptically. "I did not come this far for you to turn your back on the First Mother's son," he says. There is a note of threat in his voice.

"Gith'ka tavkim krash'ht," Lae'zel responds. "You put your trust in me, Voss. I plan to honor it."

Voss frowns. "Yes. And it seems I have no choice but to trust. There is but one Prism, and you are its key." He squints at Hector, appraising him for a long moment. Hector gets the distinct sense that, were it up to Voss, Hector would have no place at all in this plan and he would work with Lae'zel directly. But, as he says, he does not have that choice.

"Find a way to retrieve the Hammer and free Orpheus," the kith'rak goes on. "I will assemble his remaining honor guard and plan our next actions. Together, we will yet free the True Heir of Gith's blessed Empire. He will free us from Vlaakith and lead our kith'raki against the ghaik."

Not for the first time, Hector wonders if Selune is watching his actions, and what she thinks of a monk of her order getting involved in the succession struggles of the gith religion. And, as usual, his only comfort is the hope that she knows what is at stake, and that he acts always for the good, as best he can see it in the gnarled and messy path ahead of him.

"Istik," Voss finishes curtly, "I will wait in the underground. Seek me when you have the Hammer in hand."

He clearly considers the conversation finished and starts to turn away, but Hector puts out a hand to interrupt him. "Orpheus sensed the tadpole before, and his guard attacked," he points out. "Won't he attack if we free him?"

(A/N: Finally we get to ask directly about this.)

Voss turns and looks at him intently for a long moment. "The Prince of the Comet aches for githyanki liberation more than he abhors ghaik. He might seethe when you free him. He might gnash his teeth and slander your name. But he will see reason, I promise you."

It's poor assurance, really. Orpheus has been caught within the Astral Prism for centuries; what can Voss possibly know of the state of his mind? But it is the best Hector can hope for.

Gods, this is dangerous ground we are treading.

"Any idea where Raphael might keep the Orphic Hammer?" he asks.

Voss's jaw works thoughtfully. "A devil of Raphael's statue does not simply make camp on the shores of the Styx. He will have made a sanctuary for himself. A lavish one, too, one that caters to his many vices."

"The House of Hope," Lae'zel confirms. "We must find a way in."

Voss smiles coldly. "The House of Hope, you say? I couldn't ask for a name more fitting." He looks at Hector for another long moment, then turns and walks away. "Every house has an entrance, istik. Even those in the Hells. You must find it."

Hector watches the kith'rak's back as he disappears into the crowded room below. That, he thinks wearily, was the least useful thing you could possibly have said. Thank you for that.