#Future Fatum | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cowboygenesis · 4 months ago

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1/2 fatum invenit | gale x reader

part 1 of the "fatum" mini-series.

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and Gods, do they cut deep.

pairing: gale dekarios x sorceress!durge!reader tags: fluff, angst, tons of cursing, mutual pining, forced proximity, enemies/rivals to lovers. word count: 5.3k notes: whew, here we are at last. if you've read "knuckle up" you might find the ending a little similar but... what can i say, im a softie. also, the durge aspect of the reader is truly very minimal, i just added it for the sake of flavor, whatevah... oh, and reader is super cheeky and generally curses a lot, im case that's something that bothers you. i want this to be a two-parter eventually, so expect some smut in the future chapter. as always, let me know what you think! enjoy! masterlist.

You… you fucking knew it. The one time in your life you decide to give a wizard the benefit of the doubt he… he screws you the fuck over.

It was supposed to be an easy job: infiltrate Kereska’s chapel, retrieve the relic Raphael demanded, and slip away unnoticed. Hey, no big deal— you’ve handled worse without breaking a sweat.

Most of your companions weren’t so eager to take on the devil’s dirty work after a night of drinking, so, you figured you’d tackle it solo. No problem. After all, you’d just returned home to Baldur’s Gate. The evening was warm, the streets thrummed with energy, and after a night of revelry, you were in a damn good mood.

So when Gale, with his calm, holier-than-thou attitude, offered to “assist,” you’d thought sure, why the Hells not?

And what a mistake that would turn out to be for you. Just as your gut had warned you, things ended up going sideways. All because of him.

You both had made it past the wards, the traps, and even those fucked up, undead necromancers that you hated dealing with—no thanks to Gale’s constant commentary on your spellcasting techniques. It was always some remark about how your magic was “undisciplined,” how you were “too reckless to be at your best.” Fuck, like you hadn’t been doing this shit for years, now.

Warranted, you weren’t exactly the nicest person, either. Meals at your camp were a battlefield of their own, filled with biting comments and passive-aggressive stares, often over trivial matters that had nothing to do with magic.

Plus, combat was no different. It rarely took more than a few minutes before you and Gale were mired in a heated debate over the “best course of action for the situation”. Naturally, these debates only added to the tension, making every encounter feel like a personal clash as opposed to a friendly discussion over technique.

You two were polar opposites, discordant, incompatible.

But you were an idiot, then. A dumb, tender-hearted idiot in a great mood who had hoped you two could eventually get along if the stars aligned just right. But that’s all hindsight.

After all the hard work, you had almost had it— your hand was just within reach of that damned necklace, caution thrown to the wind, when Gale decided to get fancy. A small “adjustment” to the magical aura surrounding the relic, he’d explained— something about minimizing risk and stabilizing the flow of the Weave so you could extract it safely.

You discarded the idea, of course; “fuck your tricks,” you had said (your actual words), rolled your eyes at him, and said goodbye to the remnants of your good mood as he reprimanded you like a teacher would a novice— and that, naturally, you weren’t.

Unlike him, you didn’t need a stack of tomes to inspectthis kind of arcane energy. It felt powerful and intricate, yes— but beneath it all, it was just a trick of the eye. The glowing, golden-tinged sphere wasn’t malevolent whatsoever, and instead served as a cheap ploy to repel those tempted by the artifact.

So, knowing what you knew, you reached for the relic despite his suggestion.

But, just as you were to lay a finger on it, he… he cast his fucking “safety” spell. And everything went to hell.

The forcefield around the necklace reacted— wildly. The air rippled in waves, the ground shifting beneath you, and suddenly, you were trapped in some kind of collapsed chamber beneath the chapel— cut off from the rest of the world, with no way out.

Worst of all, you were in heartbreaking proximity. The dugout was deep, but narrow, allowing you maybe a centimeter of privacy before your chest collided with his. And Gods, did that happen often. Any movement you made, your bodies would collide in one way or another, be it feeling his thigh rub against yours, grazing fingers, or smacking his chin— the last one being a complete accident on your part, of course.

And yes, as two magic-wielders would, you tried your luck. As it turned out, the stone binding your bodies together seemed to have a sort of Weave-repellent property that rendered your only functional skills worthless.

So, here you were, stuck with your arch-rival, and with every passing second, your frustration grew. It must have been half an hour since the disaster struck when you finally felt your head pound with frustration.

“Gale,” you sigh for the millionth time, “Are you even listening?”

He’s been doing a great job ignoring your commentary by seemingly occupying himself with analyzing your surroundings. Smart, sure, if it wasn’t for the simple fact he refused to collaborate with you whatsoever. After your initial scream-off, he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day again.

He finally clears his throat to speak, and you shoot him a glare in the dim light.

"You just had to do your thing, didn’t you?" he sighs.

“And you just had to show off,” you retort through a bitter snark.

Gale glances at you with narrowed eyes, yet his expression remains infuriatingly contained. “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe. If I hadn’t intervened, the entire chapel may have collapsed.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap, “It collapsed on us instead. I’m so glad we avoided a disaster, Gale.”

He exhales slowly, then gives you a haphazard eye-roll. “Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed things—”

“Rushed things?” Your chest flares, making it collide with his. “I didn’t touch a damned thing. You’re the one who decided the Weave needed tuning or whatever other bullshit.”

Gale’s eyes narrow, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “You think I did this on purpose? I made the right choice. But you—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You cut him off, “Honestly, fuck you, man. If you were half as concerned with doing a good job as you are with peacocking we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Peacocking?”

“Yeah. Peacocking, showing off—Are you okay? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.” You shrug in mock nonchalance, rolling your eyes as if the circumstances weren’t already driving you up the wall.

You feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with a steadying breath, the sort one might take when trying to stop themselves from saying something they’ll inevitably regret. When it came to containing his bubbling rage, he beat you to it every time.

His casual lilt, when it comes, makes your teeth grit. “Obviously.”

You groan loudly, letting the back of your head thud against the stone wall behind you. A tense silence falls between you, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seems to grow louder in the small space whenever conversation dies down.

“You would’ve been buried stone-cold dead under the rubble if I hadn’t cast that spell,” he mutters, and just like that, your patience snaps.

“I— I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” Your words are sharp as daggers, eyes burning into his as you twist your body just enough to face him head-on. “The barrier was a ruse, Gale. A fake. I told you not to cast that damn spell—”

“And I suppose explanations are beneath someone of your obvious talents,” he snaps back, his words dripping with venom.

You glare at him, feeling your pulse quicken. “You’re a scholar— Gods, don’t you know this kind of illusory magic is Kereska’s whole thing?” you spit, watching his face aptly in hopes of catching a glimpse of something; remorse, sympathy, fuck, even just a bit of pity would satiate you.

But it never comes. His eyes bore into you with practiced reprimanding, and because he must see you on the precipice of breaking down, he continues to poke the metaphorical bear. “You should’ve waited.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you became the authority on everything. In case you somehow overlooked it, I’ve been doing this for years without your lectures.”

“And look how well that’s worked out for you,” he retorts, his voice low, treacherous. There’s a mocking smile imbued on his face, and you quickly realize it makes you want to tackle him to the ground and claw it out yourself. If it wasn’t for the minimal space, you probably would’ve even attempted it. “This wasn’t some petty street magic. That relic was infused with layers of defense—complex protections you clearly didn’t even account for—”

“I knew what I was dealing with!” you hiss, pushing against the wall for leverage. You brush against his chest again, sending an electric jolt of tension through the confined space. “I didn’t need your over-calculated, pompous meddling. I had it under control until you—”

“Under control?” Gale’s voice rises, his frustration finally splintering through his quiet facade as he emits a burst of scornful laughter. “Do you even hear yourself? Your recklessness nearly got us killed!”

You scoff, pushing back even harder. “You’re so damn smug— acting like the world will end if you don’t micromanage every little detail, but guess what? You don’t always have the answer. And right now, we’re stuck— all because of your fucking arrogance.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it, jaw tight, eyes blazing as he holds your gaze. For a second, you think he’s about to let loose another lecture, but instead, there’s silence—a strange, electricity-charged stillness that envelops you like a cold breeze.

You can’t speak. It crackles between you with a strain, thick enough to feel suffocating. Every breath you take only draws you closer to him, and somehow, it almost feels like the walls enveloping you have only grown thicker throughout your argument.

The closeness, the heat, the sheer intensity of the argument—it’s all too much, and yet, neither of you looks away once your gazes inevitably connect.

The wizard licks his bottom lip languidly, lips smacking as he seems to be taking you all in. His eyes scan over you, and somehow the fact makes you feel vulnerable.

Finally, he breaks the peace.

“If I’m so arrogant, why did you let me join you?”

His eyes are dark, but not just with frustration; they’re searching, questioning, as though he’s daring you to give an honest answer, knowing it’s something you can’t afford yourself right now.

“You asked me to let you come,” you bark out, pushing his chest with the heel of your hand, the contact sending a spark of heat through your outstretched arm. “I didn’t want you here. I figured we’d get through this, grab the necklace, and go our separate ways again. But no—you wanted to come. Play the hero, do all the dirty work, whatever your reasoning was.”

Gale doesn’t flinch at your words, but his eyes narrow slightly— they flicker to the space your bodies connect at, then back to your tautened face.

His gaze lingers on where your hand presses against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might back down. But instead, his jaw clenches, and when his eyes snap back to yours, there’s a fire behind them that ignites something deep in your gut.

“And you agreed,” he counters mockingly, the smile adorning his face making your head spin. “Why?”

The question hangs between you for a beat. You falter, mouth opening and closing without a reply.

He’s right. He’s fucking correct, and you hate it.

Why did you agree? You could’ve said no, barked back at him, insulted his stupid wizard frock— pushed him away with one of the countless options you had at your disposal.

But you didn’t. You let him come with you, willingly.

You clench your fists, pushing against the surge of discomfort bubbling in your belly. “Well, forgive me for being an optimist,” you mutter, voice tight. “I thought, for once, that maybe— Fuck. Maybe we could get through one fucking mission without trying to jump at each others’ throats.”

He exhales at your explanation, tilting his head to glance through the top of the crevasse and toward the chapel ceiling. You follow suit, albeit subtly, noticing the intricate engravings lining the skylight; in the dim light of the afternoon sun, they look elegant, beautiful, even. How didn’t you notice that when you first walked in?

“And how’s that going for us?” he asks suddenly, the smile curling at the edges of his mouth turning bitter.

You huff, running a hand through your hair. The condensation sticks to your fingers, and you can’t help the joyless chuckle that escapes your lips when you look at him again.

“Well, I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders lazily. Your cynical laughter shifts into the shadow of a smile. Somehow, as he glances down at you, you find yourself with a pang in your chest that overshadows the frustration you’ve been drowning in— it’s deep, and resonant, and feels like it’s swallowing your heart whole when his dark eyes meet yours. “We still hate each other.”

The wizard exhales sharply through his nose, and strangely, you can’t seem to read his expression even as your eyes squint.

His gaze is fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken; you feel it best when his hot breath hits the sweat-slicked skin of your face as he leans in. It’s a slight, almost imperceptible gesture, yet just enough to make your breath hitch with… rage, aversion— or perhaps, most frighteningly, something else you’ve been pushing down for months since your first quarrel.

You’re forcefully dragged out of your stupor when the pad of his thumb grazes your palm— the touch sends a sharp, almost uncomfortable jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving you speechless as you chalk it up to an unfortunate accident. Nothing more, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, and though his tone is stiff, the words cut through your pause like a skilled blade.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath catches in your parched throat, heart pounding with a force that would surely reverberate through his body hadn’t his robe been so thick.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, each shallow breath you take only drawing you closer— or, at least, that’s exactly how it feels in the tiny space you’re being forced to share.

His thumb is still brushing your palm, slowly, gently, and deliberately enough that you cannot ascribe it to a simple accident anymore. For a second, your eyebrows arch and there’s this urge to pull away, something thrumming in your head and telling you to hold to principle.

But you don’t… you— you physically can’t. Not when he’s gazing down at you with… with patience. Understanding, maybe. But why?

A beat passes, then another. The tension coils so tight you almost want to scream to break it, and his gaze remains locked on yours, his palm grazing yours.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper.

“You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours. "You’re fucking with me. I… you hate me, Gale, I can’t—"

He glances down at you with a strange glint in his eyes, then exhales loudly again. Did you strike a nerve?

“Why do you always do this?” he questions with exasperation tugging at his tone. You feel his touch momentarily drop from yours, and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself missing it.

“What?” you blink, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” He gestures between the two of you with a frustrated sigh. “You’re— you’re always picking fights with me. Always pushing, always assuming the worst—”

“I’m picking fights?” Your eyes narrow, the sneer coming back to your lips like armor. “You’ve been criticizing every godsdamn thing I’ve done since day one, making me feel inferior, questioning my skill— and now I’m the one picking fights?”

He shakes his head sharply, then sighs in frustration. When you look up, his eyes are locked on yours—deep brown with flecks of gold, catching the fractured sunlight streaming through the cracked skylight. You could drown in them, given the chance.

“No, that’s not— That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You don’t— you just refuse to listen to me. When we fight, in camp— even now. The relic, that barrier, you— Gods, you always act instead of—”

“Don’t you dare paint me as the villain now,” you snap, bumping his chest with the pad of your palm again.

“You almost got us killed!” he bites back, “I don’t care for your talents if it means you don’t utilize them properly. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, raw talent doesn’t equal capability?”

Right.

Your lips purse, the pit in your stomach suddenly overpowering your ability to retort. It was a mistake— you should have known the niceties were a convenient gimmick to ascertain his position over you, and not an actual instance of humanity, for once.

But somehow, your false hopes only drive the wrath within you. You let the nausea overcome you and have it fuel your bitter tone as you finally find the power to speak up again.

“All you care about is being right— about having the last word against anyone who dares question your abilities,” you mutter, challenging his stern gaze with your own, “And the rest of us? We’re just supposed to sit by and watch, grateful to be in the presence of Gale Dekarios, the great, tragic wizard who thought his tricks could satiate a fucking Goddess!”

You’re fuming. The words that come out of your throat are only half-baked as you shrill at him, but… but at the moment, it feels right— warranted, somehow.

So when you catch him give you the space to continue, you take it.

“…But the truth is, you need to feel superior. You need everyone to see you as the sleekest in the room because deep down, you’re still clinging to the ghost of a woman who abandoned you. And that’s why you’ve been picking me apart since day one—because I’m not afraid to tell you how full of shit you are.”

Suddenly, you feel his hand catch your wrist, his grip firm as he holds you still. His thumb presses lightly against your pulse, sending a sharp, unwanted jolt of awareness through your body as your arm tries to jerk away.

“You don’t know the first godsdamn thing about me,” Gale growls, his breath fanning your face as the words spill out, thick with venom. “You’re so wrapped up in your own insolence, so blinded by your stubborn pride, that all you can see in others is a reflection of yourself. And trust me when I say that it’s an ugly one.”

You laugh, a bitter, angry sound, but your heart is hammering now. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

His jaw clenches, but his grip doesn’t waver. “I know enough. I know that your actions speak louder than words. I know that you’re reckless, impulsive, and too damned proud to admit when you need help—”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you scorching as your breaths mingle. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re the one who’s blinded by your own self-importance— always thinking you’re the wisest, savviest person in the room, like the rest of us are just pawns in your little fucking game.”

Gale’s eyes flash with something wild and uninhibited, and you watch his sneer shift into a bitter smile again.

“You— You really think that?” he questions through a chuckle, voice gravelly and low. “Do you really think I’m just using you for some game?”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. You sneer at him, and the outrage bubbles out again.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. You’ve only ever looked out for yourself. This was never about helping me—it was… it was about proving something. To me, to yourself, to fucking Mystra,” you trail.

The moment the words leave your lips, the air shifts between you like a storm about to unravel. His grip on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with a deliberate firmness that forces you to stop and feel the tension between you. His face is suddenly too close, and for the most succinct moment, you catch something flickering in his eyes—something dim, and dark—but not the rage you were expecting.

He should be angry with you— Hells, he should be furious. You just tore into every insecurity you knew he had, ripped open wounds that never quite healed, and worst of all, dragged his old lover into it all.

And yet… his gaze isn’t burning with the fever you’ve grown used to seeing from him in every argument, every fight.

Why the fuck isn’t he furious?

“Gods, I actually— I used to admire you. You know that? Before all this, I thought you were someone I could… I don’t know, respect. You were this brilliant, woeful man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought, ‘Maybe there’s something more underneath all that.’ I thought we could, I don’t know, actually be something—friends, allies, whatever the fuck. I wanted us to trust each other. But… but you…" your voice lowers to a near whisper, and somehow, unbeknownst to you, your eyes go glassy with hot tears.

You’re left reeling, heart hammering in your chest as your mind races along with your bitter confession. The air around you feels viscous, mucous-like, but when your throat goes dry with impending tears you look up to see something that makes your breath hitch.

He’s listening.

Not just waiting for his turn to speak as he usually does around you, not calculating his next clever retort, but listening— really, truly listening.

His gaze, once so sharp with ire, has softened. His dark eyes are fixed on yours with a vigor that nearly undoes you, and there’s no anger in them now, no resentment.

Your breath catches.

“You never gave me a chance, Gale. Not once. It was always about you, your guilt, your past, your Mystra— Fuck!” you cough out and rub your eyes with the pads of your palms, massaging your vulnerability away. “I tried. I really, really tried. But none of this seemed to reach you, not through that… that mental barrier you’ve created around yourself. I think that since the very beginning, everything else was just noise to you. I was just noise to you,” your voice dies down to a mutter, and you inhale sharply to fight the sorrow back into your grieving heart.

You withdraw your hands and finally feel brazen enough to face him.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks, aware that your nose is red from the tears you tried so hard to hold back, that your eyelids are probably puffy and swollen, and you’re a fucking mess.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve come undone, and now, nothing mattered to you anymore; not the anger, not the sorrow, and especially not the way his kind, gentle touch seemed to soothe your aching heart when his palm met yours.

You scan his face, but there’s nothing— or at least, you can’t seem to read it through the coating of tears obscuring your eyes. The light above has shifted to cast his face in a warm, velvety light. You catch the subtle lines etched into his forehead, the faint silver threads streaking through his hair, and his lips curling into… a smile.

Despite your desperation, despite your pain, he was smiling.

Your chest tightens, fists clenching at your sides, and before you can stop them, a stream of hot tears finally spills down your cheeks.

This was it. You braced for impact.

“…So do whatever the fuck you need to fill that void in your heart, but don’t involve me in any of it. And— for fuck’s sake, Gale, don’t act like you give a shit about me because you—”

But you never get to finish.

Before you can witness the gentle glint in his eyes as he leans into you, before you can even register it, his lips crash onto yours.

Your gasp is muted against the softness of his mouth. When he moves, it’s not gentle, not soft, but raw in its intensity and so, so desperate.

His grip on your wrist tightens briefly before finally releasing, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. The warmth of his hand is a pleasant change to the cold, hard stone you’ve been leaning against, and suddenly, just as your mind threatens to flood you with dopamine, it all dawns on you.

You’ve been here before—no, not here, but in moments that feel eerily alike.

You recall the edge in his voice during arguments, the way he’d insist on ‘rectifying’ you at every turn, the blunt critiques you assumed were borne from pure vanity. But now… now there’s a clarity to it all. Worry. Fear. A softness, a hesitation. Like when he would offer his hand to you after a fight, his fingers lingering just a moment too long as they brushed over yours.

You loathed him… Hells, you detested him.

But how deep were you willing to draw the line between hate and devotion?

Against all your instincts, against the sharp, burning ache in your chest—you drink him in. His warmth, his touch, the power behind it all.

You know you should push him away, shove him off, scream, but instead, you find yourself frozen— trapped in the certainty of this moment. And despite every ounce of fury burning inside you, you can’t deny the spark it ignites in your indigent heart as he caresses you so tenderly.

And with that, you seal your fate with his.

Your lips press against his, head tilting until you feel you’re melting into him. He groans softly against your mouth, and the sound makes your chest thrum with a melody you’re afraid to place.

Your hands, trembling, inch towards his chest, but this time they aren’t formed into spiteful fists or an accusatory point— your palms lay lax against him, resting at the junction of his ribs and pushing, pushing… just in hopes of catching the steady thrum of his heart against your fingertips. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it’s all still there, but in this moment, none of it matters.

Just him. Just this.

For all the times you’ve misread him, all the moments you thought his criticisms were barbs, meant to wound—now you wonder. You had mistaken his care for contempt, his frustration for hatred. But now, as his lips part slightly against yours, the world narrows down to just the two of you. No damned relic, no mission, no war; only the benign sensation of his hand cradling the back of your neck, the warmth of his mouth on yours, and the undeniable truth of it all:

You’ve never hated him. Not once in your rotten life.

And when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, you want to come undone. You’re tired, hot, melting into this fiery, passionate kiss that has slowly turned languid and gentle.

So despite the zeal enveloping your body, you’re finally forced to part.

When your eyes open, you find him already watching you. A shiver runs down your spine as you drink him in; tousled hair, half-lidded eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his plush lips as the both of you pant in tandem with each other.

He looks wrecked. But then again, you’re certain you do too.

Your face feels flushed, still burning with aftershock and when you bite your bottom lip, you find it swollen. Raw. The taste of him lingers there too, sweet like bourbon and sharp like anise.

You stare at each other. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again, really seeing him, and it softens your heart as much as it terrifies your lust-addled mind.

The silence stretches between you, so thick you can feel it pressing against your skin. It pulls taut with every second, coiling tighter, and you can’t stand how fragile it makes your heart feel.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper. “You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky— you’ve never found that aspect of it attractive until now.

You open your mouth, but the words—whatever they are—die in your throat. Instead, all you can do is look at him and fall deeper into his embrace.

There are questions that swirl in the back of your mind, ones you know you should ask, but they slip away the moment his thumb brushes your cheek again. Why did he kiss you? Why did you let him? And why, despite the chaos and pain that’s passed through your mind, did this—he—feel like the only thing that has made sense since you forgot all else?

“I never hated you,” he murmurs and shifts slightly, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I didn’t want to hate you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought it’s what we were meant to be. Enemies.”

“We aren’t,” The corner of his mouth twitches. “We never were.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and just like that, the fragile walls around your heart crumble. Gale Dekarios, the man you had sworn to hate, has somehow intertwined himself into your very existence in a way you suddenly think might last centuries.

—

As it turns out, the solution to your predicament was surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly straightforward. The anti-magic barrier encircling the sunken crypt could be dispelled by reciting the incantation inscribed on the rock walls— and with Gale’s surprising proficiency in Draconic, it proved quite an easy feat.

After that, it was just a matter of a few rudimentary spells. Naturally, the task took longer than anticipated, thanks to the lingering, newfound tension between you and the wizard— fleeting glances, soft touches, and even an occasional, stolen kiss as you recited your magic; things you surprisingly found yourself quite fond of.

As you step out into the cool evening air, you inhale deeply, savoring the crisp, refreshing breeze. The sunset paints the world in a warm, golden hue, casting long, soft shadows across the cobbled streets as you pass by groups of chattering townsfolk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you hear your companion muse through a playful smile. “After all of this, do you think we could avoid arguments for a little while?”

You meet his gaze with a puckish eye roll, a smile tugging at your still-swollen lips. The warm glow of the streetlights casts his face in a soft, intimate glow, and your smile widens into a grin when you catch his lips bearing that same sign of your carnal affection.

“It depends,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, pushing against him playfully.

“Mhm, and on what exactly?” he hums, his hand squeezing tighter around yours. When his thumb caresses your palm, you feel your heart thrum with something you can’t quite describe.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, glancing up at him with a grin. He returns it within a beat, and now it’s your turn to knit your fingers tighter. “How much longer are you planning on nagging me?”

He chuckles from the belly, and the coil in your chest that you’ve long expected to be spite emerges as something much larger, softer, and most unexpected. You fear to name it out loud.

You smile when your gaze meets his, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the softness of your own. He leans in, and the world narrows to the touch of his lips against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that seems to linger in the evening light. In that fleeting moment, all the doubts and anxieties are swept away with his voice calling your name.

“For as long as I live,” he retorts softly, his voice laced with tenderness as the air between you, once again, fills with his laughter.

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obscured-everything · 9 months ago

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OBSCURA trailer analysis & theories

The OBSCURA trailer is very pretty (watch it if you haven’t already <3) and is also full of interesting symbolism and snippets of Latin. In this post I’m going to be manually translating and providing notes on the Latin, as well as discussing what the numbers mean and giving my own plot speculations. SPOILERS for OBSCURA’s Chapter 1 with every love interest.

I’m going to be working with the theory that the numbers correspond to the Major Arcana in a Rider–Waite–Smith tarot deck. I’ll be pulling tarot card information from A.E. Waite’s 1910 book ‘The Pictorial Key to the Tarot’, where he discusses the symbolism of the images in the cards and provides divinatory meanings.

Shoutout to @/starlitmanta and @/mostlygayrage for posting their own analyses before me! I got inspired by both of them to both write down my thoughts and then actually finish the post after leaving it for months lol. @/mostlygayrage has some interesting stuff on the imagery and also delved into the Latin! Although he took it as one sentence which I won’t be doing – I’m going to take the double forward slashes as an indication of a break.

Disclaimer that I haven’t formally studied Latin in years so if there are any errors feel free to point it out in the notes!

Cirrus

18. Presbyter // Ecclesiae lunaris XVII: The Moon. Priest // Lunar churches

18. Obsequium // ducit ad caelum Obedience // he leads to heaven TL notes N/A Tarot meaning To quote Waite, “The moon is increasing on what is called the side of mercy… the path between the towers is the issue into the unknown. The dog and wolf are the fears of the natural mind in the presence of that place of exit, when there is only reflected light to guide it…the message is: Peace, be still; and it may be that there shall come a calm upon the animal nature...”

Upright: Hidden enemies, danger, darkness, terror, deception, occult forces, error. Reversed: Instability, inconstancy, silence, lesser degrees of deception and error. Speculation I think we can all agree that Cirrus is not trustworthy, hence danger, deception, occult forces etc. Nevertheless, Vesper (if you’ve got a good ending, at least) puts great degrees of trust in him. ‘A calm upon the animal nature’ calls to mind his odd ability to influence Vesper’s choices and force them into saying ‘yes’, but I also thought it might reference something about Vesper putting aside their instinctive reservations about Cirrus’ suspicious character to follow him into an unknown future.

Leading to heaven is, to me, a bit double-edged; it could mean death or paradise. Very fitting, I think.

Keir

20. Keir // Cavillatur fur XX: Judgement. Keir // Mocking thief

20. Fatum // vestrum vel extraneus [Destiny / (calamitous) death] // yours or a stranger TL notes I’m inclined to believe that Keir’s name being his plain name rather than an epithet is probably just part of his blunt kind of character, and ‘mocking thief’ is probably related to his personality too. Also, there is another piece of Latin on that first screen – ‘cultellus’, which means ‘dagger’ and points downwards towards where his dagger is held. Also, ‘fatum’ is a very interesting word in that it carries an intriguing potential double meaning. Tarot meaning Upright: Change of position, renewal, outcome. Reversed: Weakness, pusillanimity, simplicity; also deliberation, decision, sentence. Speculation Waite’s initial discussion of Judgement is very Biblical which I doubt has much to do with OBSCURA’s use of it. I do think the divinatory meanings are very interesting – I think that at a good/best end of Keir’s route, he’ll be able to come out on top and secure a good and/or stable future for himself and/or Mouse Hole.

My current theory is that, since we have had mentions of Keir and Oleander in each others’ routes, that they have direct effects on each others’ fates. This fits with ‘yours or a stranger’ of course, but also the double-edged ‘destiny or (calamitous) death’ – I’ll speculate more in Oleander’s route, but I think he and potentially most of Mouse Hole will not fare well if Vesper picks Oleander.

I’m interested in why his dagger was explicitly pointed out and labelled. I’m kind of shooting in the dark here but I think it’ll be significant in the future – either as a symbol of his history (specifically with Oleander, perhaps?) or as a plot device of some sort.

Oleander

11. Nerii // Periculosum scurra XI: Justice. Of oleander // Dangerous clown

11. Patiuntur // sicut habes They are suffering // just like you are TL notes More technically, ‘nerii’ is the genitive of ‘nerium’, which means oleander. This makes sense to me when I think about how he’s had a history of changing names – he’s moreso embodying the qualities of oleander (a pretty but dangerous plant) rather than taking it as a definitive name.

‘Patiuntur’ is in the plural, and suffering might be a strong word depending on how you look at it – the original word is like enduring through something difficult or unpleasant. Tarot meaning Waite basically says that the card has ‘obvious meanings’ so I don’t think I need to look too closely into it.

Upright: Equity, rightness, probity, executive; triumph of the deserving side in law. Reversed: Law in all its departments, legal complications, bigotry, bias, excessive severity Speculation The second half of the second piece of Latin, ‘sicut habes’, is in the second-person and I’m assuming that this is meant to address Vesper/MC. Maybe Oleander is also looking for something that he can’t find or afford, although the plural throws me off a bit if that’s the case. Maybe it’s referencing Oleander’s previous Vigils (since Vesper is currently holding that position, ‘just like’ they have) or something…?

Now, here is my plot theory which may or may not be insane. We know that Oleander has committed murder, and was very blasé about it; presumably he’s done this sort of thing before. We know that in his route, Keir has been alluded to, Griff has shown up and Keir is presumably going to show up at some point. I think that Oleander’s involvement with Keir is going to end very poorly for Keir, even leading to the calamity insinuated in Judgement. Specifically, I think that Oleander and Keir are going to be caught up in a serious crime and Keir is going to take the fall, leading to a permanent end for him (death, probably) and the following collapse of Mouse Hole. Oleander will get off lightly or scot-free (Justice’s ‘triumph of the deserving side in law’, ‘deserving’ as opposed to Keir who is indisputably a criminal and receives ‘excessive severity’).

This could be from Keir and his group failing the burglary since Vesper isn’t there to cover for the injured lookout, or it could be something else that brings in the dagger which was pointed out in Keir's portion of the trailer. I’m thinking murder, honestly.

Francesco

10. Franciscum // innocentes nobiles X: Wheel of Fortune. Francisco // innocent nobles

10. Tempus // decurrit Time // runs out TL notes Grammatically, ‘Franciscum’ is in the accusative (the case used to mark the ‘object’ on which a verb acts). This could be a stylistic thing or it could allude to how he’s being ‘acted upon’ by whatever power/influence his family have.

‘Decurrit’ is literally ‘runs down’ which fits with the hourglass imagery, but I imagine that the spirit of the phrase is ‘runs out’ especially since his route already alludes to that. Tarot meaning To quote Waite, “the symbolic picture stands for the perpetual motion of a fluidic universe and for the flux of human life … the essential idea of stability amidst movement. Behind the general notion expressed in the symbol there lies the denial of chance and the fatality which is implied therein.”

Upright: destiny, fortune, elevation, luck, felicity. Reversed: increase, abundance, superfluity. Speculation I think that at some point within Francesco’s route, his family is going to be further involved. I assume that these are the ‘innocent nobles’, which makes me think that whatever state or situation that they find Francesco in won’t be very innocent at all. Alternatively, it could be that his family is more innocent/harmless than they present themselves as – depending on circumstance, this could be a big win for Vesper or a big loss because they don’t have the family backing that they thought they did.

The Wheel of Fortune carries connotations of luck and change in fortune. I assume that Vesper provides Francesco with some degree of ‘stability amidst movement’ and that any ‘denial of chance’ involves Francesco leaving the marketplace and returning to the very clearly mapped out future that his family has for him, thus leading to a bad end. ——————————

Thanks for reading to the end!

#obscura vn #obscura analysis #obscura theories #rotten raccoons

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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okay, so i just finish reading fatum nos iungebit and i would just like to say that könig and fee definitely fled the country to relocate in austria.

and they definitely found a large secluded area somewhere in the mountains, maybe close to a beautiful meadow filled with flowers where könig can build a cute cottage for the two of them.

and they definitely choose a more quiet, conservative lifestyle. whereas könig hunts and kills animals instead of humans (although unless threaten, humans aren’t entirely off the table) and continues to provide material resources, fee has resorted to a more productive yet passive routine, like cooking, gardening, sewing, etc. they just do whatever they want cause they can and they love that for each other.

and they definitely still stay by each others side. despite less threat, there’s still a need to be close in a physical proximity because of how natural it has become. könig always needs his goddess by his side, and fee just doesn’t like being alone without worrying too much.

and they definitely still fuck. except, the only difference, they can do it where ever, whenever now. kids are not too far from their future tbh.

Roman!König turning into proto Cabin!König REAL fast 😭💞

But seriously?! You're so right and this broke my heart in the most beautiful way! König knows how to build stuff and he will so provide for her for sure. I secretly had it in mind while writing that last scene that they are taking the direction of König’s homeland and that they might settle somewhere near his old village 🥺 Somewhere on the outskirts of other new settlements so that they could trade with other people there. Fee needs help in childbirth if she comes pregnant and they can’t do everything by themselves, BUT they are a bit further away from the rest of the folk and live their happy little lives in the most adorable scenery imaginable! ❤️

König hunts and Fee weaves and spins, and in time König will receive much respect in the community because he’s so helpful (and strong and he can help defend the village if need be so of course they won’t turn them away) and soon enough there will be tiny Königs and Fees running around (usually naked :/ they want to bask in the sun and go gather flowers before their parents have had a chance to get them dressed) and König has to “hunt” them down and bring them back to put some clothes on, after that they receive a strong pat on their butts from König (it almost topples the little ones, poor things) and they know it’s a sign they can finally go and run free, just not too far away and not without their tiny daggers ^^

(After that König returns to bed to take care of his little Fee >:) )

#answered #THIS IS TOO CUTE

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turangalila · 22 days ago

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Cypriot Advent Antiphons – Anonymous (c. 1390) [I-Tn MS J.II.9Biblioteca Nazionale Universitaria, Torino, Italy]

— Nos Demoramur - O Sapientia Incarnata — Pictor Eterne Syderum - O Adonay Domus Israel — Cunti Fundent Precamina - O Radix Yesse Splendida — Veni Splendor Mirabilis - Lucis Eterne Splendor — Quis Possit Dignexprimere - O Rex Vrtuum Gloria — Tu Nati Nata Suscipe - O Sacra Virgo Virginum — Homo Mortalis Firmiter - Hodie Puer Nascitur

— Nos Demoramur - O Sapientia Incarnata

_ O Sapientia incarnata, / mente seraphica contemplata, / voce angelica nunciata, / alvo almifica enutrita, / a patre genita prodiisti, / post patrem florida non fulcisti / una, sed splendida comprobasti / unius merita, cum fuisti / cuntorum entium primus motoret ut celestium fabricator, / sic et humilium contractator, / actorum omnium terminator, / cunta qui nectis modo sublimiea / que fortis iure suavi / semper disponis ordine, primi / velle resolvis atque supremi. / Veni, benigne instrue mentes / fervoris igne redde prudentes / molesque frange usque prementes, / nos tecum iunge diu morantes. //

Nos demoramur, benigne rector, / et prestolamur, que tu, promissor, / spondes, et famur quia transgressor / egit ut remur fieri horror. / Inde, gementes acre timemus / ne deviantes nos pereamus, / cum ignorantes, exerceamus / que cupientes desideramus. / Ergo, lux verax, fuga tenebras / quas nodus tenax usque latebras / limbique portas nobis acerbasdedit et minas ille superbas. / Dum ergo fatum parentis primi / tremimus, casum Plutonis diri, / viam prudentum rogamus pii, / voce silentum ne simus, veni. //

— Pictor Eterne Syderum - O Adonay Domus Israel

_ O Adonay, domus Israel, / O dux, vere deus, Emanuel, / O tu creator cui Michael, / Assunt eque pius et Raphael, / In Syna fulvum qui transformasti / Candentem rubum, quem ostendisti / Esse te verum, atque dedisti / Moysi legem quem docuisti, / Brachium potens, fortis, ostende / Redime, fervens, firmus, intende / Ut liberemur igne gehenne, / Ne teneamur inde perenne. / O future libris propheticis, / Expectate dictis veridicis, Affirmate signis mirificis, / Tu sperate bonis almificis, / Iam tandem veni, manus extendens / Ad redimendum nos miserascens, / Aridam sitim undis extinguens, / Eleos guttis rite perungens.

Pictor eterne syderum, / Via, salus et veritas, / Qui prebes iter prosperum / His qui que vera trinitas / Rite fatentur, lilium, / Viola, rosa, probitas, / Ros, fides, spes, subsidium, / Cedrus, ignis et caritas, / Veni, succurre propere / In brachii potentia, / Fias redemtor libere / In promissi iusticia: / Nos liberabis onere / Quo gravamur astucia / Hostis antiqui colere; / Intendemus leticia. / O Israel Adonay / Te clamamus humiliter: / Veni de monte Sinay, / Leva luctantes iugiter.

— Cunti Fundent Precamina - O Radix Yesse Splendida

_ O Radix Yesse splendida / Solares vincens radios, / O fundatrix prefulgida / Diversos signans populos, / O altrix vere candida / Sermones claudens regios, / O igne micans fervida / Campos purgans Elisios, / Tu laude digna fertilis, / Quam reges adorabunt, / Pennis a celo agilis, / Quam regine salutabunt, / In terris conversabilis / Tum te proceres timebunt, / Tandem cruce passibilis / Quam prophete expectabunt. / Veni, gloriosissime, / Expectantes delibera, / Frange, tu potentissime, / Manu ferventi infera, / Et si velis, iustissime, / Correctionis effera / Virga, secte, probissime, / Plebem iniquam carcera: / Ne tardes, velocissime.

Cuncti fundent precamina: / Reges, magnates populi, / Continebunt affamina / Super radice agili; / Quid precabuntur agmina, / Quid peroptabunt singuli, / Quid decantabunt carmina, / Quid perorabunt versuli? / Certe, ut cito venias / Ad redimendum scelera. / Ergo, ut plene fulgeas, / Ad nos benignus propera, / Misericordem prebeas / Ut iurasti per viscera, / Plene nobis indulgeas, / Iram antiquam tempera. / Noli tardare, domitor, / Ad liberandum subditos, / Revela sontes, conditor, / Nube delicti perditos.

— Veni Splendor Mirabilis - Lucis Eterne Splendor

_ Lucis eterne splendor, / qui ortus es sol iusticie, / patris mirande decor, / noster fautor amicicie, / dubius ne sis memor / veteris nostre nequitie, / summe te rabbi precor: / dimitte culpam versutie. / Nam digne quis te querere / suis possit operibus, / quis te valet adquirere / propriis suis opibus? / Datum est nobis credere, / quo ligna velut ignibus / ardemus, inde serere / conamur virtutibus. / Quos mortis umbra continet, /veni, splendor et adiuva, / quos tenebrarum possidet / locus horrendus libera, / mirra, incensum offeret / nostra anima gratifera, um illa dies afferet / cum animabus corpora, / tunc spes omnis desinet. //

Veni, splendor mirabilis, / et obsitos caligine / tuis involve radiis, / tuo corrusces lumine. / Libera nos subsidiis, / formasti quos ymagine / plena fecisti gratiis / tua similitudine. / Horrore mortis tegimur / spissis umbrarum nubibus, / ardore mentis coquimur / diris Parcarum sortibus, / fervore cordis fallimur / scissis terrarum molibus, / stridore dentis quatimur / miris penarum oribus. / O ergo, lucis claritas, / funde potenter radios; / o summa, veni, bonitas, / salva fidem ter noxios. //

— Quis Possit Dignexprimere - O Rex Vrtuum Gloria

_ O Rex, virtutum gloria, / desideratus gentium, / lapis ductus in angula, / incognitus amentium, / aule celestis incola, / spes et dilectus fortium, / veni festinus, immola / corpus nobis dominicum. / Qui utraque unum facis / tui ordinis virtute, / qui creatum orbem alis / eternali probitate, / expectantes diu colis / paternali caritate, / nos esurientes velis / pascere sacietate. / Quem de limo tu formasti, / veni et salva hominem / quem de nichilo creasti, / redempturus per virginem; / dele crimen prothoplasti / a quo eximi neminem, / recto iure voluisti, / nisi puram et immunem / per quam carnem liberasti. //

Quis possit digne exprimere / sacre rei misterium? / Qua via comprehendere / quis possit puerperium, / ut se possit inserere / in almam matris alveum, / sine reatus scelere, / quo nobis datur vinculum? / Sine peccato originis, / nasciturus ex virgine, / veni, benignus premiis, / libera nos voragine, / tui terrore fulminis / infice quos in flumine / Flegetontis inveneris, / desistat diro turbine. / Quos tu creasti redime, / qui sedemus in tenebris / et nos sperantes suscipe, / purgemur a miseriis. //

— Tu Nati Nata Suscipe - O Sacra Virgo Virginum

_ O sacra Virgo virginum, / Mater et patris genita, / Perfecta salus hominum, / Omni virtute condita, / Tu expers es similium, / Humilitati dedita, / Terror et pena demonum, / Recuperans deperdita. / Hierusalem, Hierusalem, / Quid miraris assidue? / Si talem queris hominem / Tu invenire propere, / Non invenies similem / Toto quesito opere. / Ante et post te neminem / Omni tranato ethere. / Divinum est misterium / Quod in te tantum cernitur; / Celeste est imperium / Quod factum tuum colitur, / Ergo, puerperium / Quod virginale noscitur, / Da nobis ministerium / Quo multis celum scanditur, / Et para chaterthirium.

Tu, nati nata, suscipe / Nostra vota que reddimus, / Tuorum preces accipe / Quas tibi pie fundimus, / Te invocantes despice / Quia diu deflevimus, / Ne peccatores reice / A sinu quem quesivimus. / Plena omnis leticie, / Corda nostra letifica ; / Donatrix omnis gratie, / Clamantes te gratifica, / Fautrix omnis iusticie, / Delinquentes iustifica, / Mater misericordie, / Te poscentes almifica. / O sola porta glorie, / Pulsanti valvas aperi, / Et filios miserie / Parcendo manto coperi.

— Homo Mortalis Firmiter - Hodie Puer Nascitur

_ Hodie puer nascitur / ante secula genitus; / agnus tener depromitur, / carne mortali conditus, / matre intacta ducitur, / luce quam fecit candidus, / qui previdetur, colitur, / quo non videtur splendidus. / Splendor in nubem funditur, / nec a sole divellitur; / splendor in nube conditur, / nec a nube minuitur; / nubes eodem alitur, / nec alimentum sumitur; / nubes interdum patitur, / nec ille splendor pungitur. / In carne verbum seritur / unione fortissima, / qua caro verbum creditur / ratione firmissima, / et verbum non deseritur / a carne solidissima, / nec unquam caro linquitur / a luce potentissima, / inest qui splendor tessuti / alma cum semper anima.//

Homo mortalis, firmiter / carni cum heret anima, / humana passibiliter / coniuncta sunt hec infima, / duo creata duplici / natura reddunt unicum, / cum gratia multiplici / separandarum partium / sed increata tercia / talem confecit hominem, / qualem superna gratia / ubivis fecit neminem. / Nam splendor carni additus / et anime mirabilem / perpetuum divinitus, / sibi assumpsit hominem. / Ergo, si caro linquitur / ab anima passibili, / mortuus homo creditur / tantum natura duplici. //

_ Cypriot Advent Antiphons – Anonymous c. 1390 Huelgas Ensemble. Paul Van Nevel (1990, Deutsche Harmonia Mundi – RD77977)

#medieval #sacred #antiphon #motet #choir #huelgas ensemble

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feliciainasweater · 1 year ago

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- What you are staring at? - Shhh. I'm focused.

(Poor Neji again suffering from my fandominal forgetfulness. First I forgot about his mark, now I made him left-handed. Next time I'll think that he's the one with the buns. You never know which other inappropriate change I will cast upon him).

Don't know if any artist here shares the sketches of the future project. Personally for me sharing sketches is a sign of bad luck. Which means I will never finish it. But this time I want to share so badly that I decided to leave this one to the choice of fatum.

#naruto shippuuden #naruto #fanart #shipping #nejiten #neji x tenten #neji hyuga #tenten #team gai #digital illustration #digital drawing #photoshop #chinese hanfu #digital art #adobe photoshop #semirealism #couple #sketch

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diversegaminglists · 1 year ago

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"In response to the ongoing crisis in Gaza and occupied Palestine, we're creating this bundle to raise funds for the organization Medical Aid For Palestinians.

From the organization's website: "MAP's vision is a future where all Palestinians can access an effective, sustainable and locally-led system of healthcare, and the full realisation of their rights to health and dignity.

Through our programmes in the West Bank, Gaza, East Jerusalem, and Lebanon, we work with trusted and experienced local partners to achieve this vision. Our programmes, designed and delivered by Palestinians, provide access to essential health services and build local knowledge and skills to address Palestinian health problems. In times of humanitarian emergency, we are ready to respond rapidly with aid and assistance.

MAP is also committed to bearing witness to the injustices caused by occupation, displacement and conflict. We speak out in the UK and internationally, and ensure Palestinian voices are heard at the highest levels, to press for the political and social barriers to Palestinian health and dignity to be addressed." This bundle will run for two weeks, from October 26th-November 9th, 2023."

Highlights include:

Extreme Meatpunks Forever

Fatum Betula

Mysteries Under Lake Ophelia

A Nightmare's Trip

Not the Robots

#itch.io #games for gaza #game bundles

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catastrophic-crisis · 10 months ago

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Haunted PS1 Demo Disc 2020

The games we know, the games we don't, the games that never were never finished - we turn back to 2020 to pump horror demos right into our veins and see what the future looked like in the past.

You might recognize a familiar face or two like Fatum Betula, and we'll explore canceled projects like Until Biglight.

Horror DEMOthology @ Thursday 4:00 PM EST / 9:00 PM GMT/UTC / 1:00 PM PST; twitch.tv/catastrophe_jupiter

#stream announcement #rather extravagant feeling thumbnail thanks to the case art. gold baby #I was looking at some past EEK3 stuff before I decided to stream this and thought #'Man. It's interesting that. say. 2020 (I guess!) was that long ago. (Now) bigger names like S+gnalis hadn't dropped yet.'#On top of that we're marinating now in pandemy-influenced art but many projects influenced by then-current events would have only have just #been started at best besides a small handful of short indies.

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somnimas · 6 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐀 , 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐖

fatuma is one of three major gods in my world. they are responsible for giving living things sapience and thought, as well as writing universal law. we will start here, since fatuma and their followers are the most prevalent. next to anima of course, but these groups are definitely more of a powerhouse in regards to influence.

before we begin:

yes phones / technology exists. though it is not... like what we have irl. it's kinda of futuristic, while still being old and underdeveloped in some areas.

vehicles are a VERY rare commodity, only obtained by the wealthy or influential people's in the city. a law requires additional licensing and further restrictions to prevent vehicular criminal activities.

guns are fairly new, so you wont find anything automatic. more or less created to counteract the laws against magic in most countries and cities. especially those that worship / follow fatum's law.

magic is banned in any territory governed by fatuma. unless you have a permit to practice within very specific schools. dream magic, and anything arcane is 100% forbidden in the majority of major cities anywhere.

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 ( also just known as the capital )

the capital's symbol is golden beast rearing back.

major capital that has the greatest following of fatuma. this is where briar was born and lives out the majority of his life. influences pull from victorian gothic, and old catholic architecture. law is pretty strict, and due to how strict it is it's also got the smallest rate of crime. as in most cases, being caught breaking any rule or law can result in being apprehended and taken to fates tower.

the land surrounding the capital spreads pretty far. and the further you are, the easier it is to get away with minor crimes. still, within the lands influenced by fatuma, it's best to watch what you do and what you say. as it's hard to tell who is and isn't madly devoted to the father of fate.

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

the tower was actually once a tower for somnimium. we'll get into that when i discuss them later. but is now used to house those who defy fate, and break the laws within sight of the capital's law keepers. people who go here, rarely ever come out. and the people who do are forever changed.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 & 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

lawkeepers are pretty straightforward; they uphold the law, and arrest those who break it. they do use magic, but it is connected to fatuma, and thus is quite restricted and limited on what it can do. primarily used to locate potential magical use, and the apprehending of suspected criminals.

corded knights however are referred to often as fates hand. it's a small order of powerful knights who bind their own fates. giving up whatever potential future they had, to serve fatuma their god. these knights are not to be trifled with, or tested in any way. one of these are worth about a dozen lawkeepers. and in total, the order has about 25 or so devotees. not including captain elana, she... is scary. maybe i'll talk about her one day lmao.

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐚'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐫

the central church. this is where briar's family spends most of their time. it doubles as not only a church but a keep as well. again, there is technology, so think a mixture of bloodborne and repo ( the original opera ).

𝐯𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐬 ( they also go by vul or,,, a more obscure name; jira )

vulpes is a smaller deity, a fateweaver, and a child of fatuma. despite being so fox like they're actually a fox; but a divine creature much closer in relation to a rodent. even though their 'parent' is fatuma, vul does not seem to abide their law. and does what they like whenever they like. they are capable of reading the fate strings of others by reaching into their hearts. an act that few have experienced; enduring such has often times turned victims into fervent believers. who claim they have been told their fate and time of death. which some go mad trying to avoid, and others embrace.

#𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎. / about #i tried keeping it short and sweet...

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moldsporr · 1 year ago

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Hey guys, I have 50$ to spend on some games for my switch, any reccomendations? I like visual novels and detective games, along with puzzle games, rpgs, rhythm games, and turn-based games! I'm not great with horror, I'd say like. Fnaf is as scary I'll go (I prefer psychological horror anyway compared to jumpscares and gore)

Some games I've played/am playing and have/are enjoying are:

Master Detective Archives: Raincode

Danganronpa Series

Undertale + Deltarune

Persona 5 Royal + Persona 5 Tactica

Pokemon Series

Breath of the Wild (haven't gotten to TOTK yet)

Ace Attorney

Taiko no Tatsujin

Tetris

Fatum Batula

Omori

Genshin Impact (please do not reccomend gacha games. I. I already play four. No more....)

Even if the game is over 50$, I'd love to hear your reccomendations in case it's on sale or if I get more money in the future!

#gimme reccomendations #asking the public #video games #help me spend money !#textpost

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universalcollisionleaks00 · 1 year ago

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Universal Collision: Meet the Adventurer Support Assists!

Name: Fatum Sisters (Vanessa, Udanya, Sandrine <- color coded for your info)

Class: 5★

Summoner/Duo: Yes (First Trio character)

🎂Birthday🎂: No

Weapon Type: SPECIAL (EX Weapon: Destiny's Kiss)

Current character status: Released

Info (From Dislyte wiki)

Udanya, Vanessa, and Sandrine are the sweet and adorable members of Gyrate's most popular idol group! With the powers of the Nornir, they show no mercy to those who dare to interrupt people's enjoyment of music!

Past! Present! Future! We are one! - Speed of all allies +35% (1 Turn) + Type resistance of all allies +35% (1 Turn) + Type attacks of all allies +35% (1 Turn) + Activate Lunatic (Copy) (Once per battle)

Skills / Abilities

Heart beam - SPECIAL attack on a single enemy (L) + add an effect based on which of the sisters attack

* Vanessa: Type resistance of enemy -25% (2 Turns)

* Udanya: Physical resistance of enemy -25% (2 Turns)

* Sandrine: Restore HP of user (M)

* United: Use all effects of the three sisters + Type attacks of all frontline and subline allies +50% (3 Moves)

Sparkling Stage - Cleanse all debuffs of selected ally + Restore HP of all allies (XL) + add an effect based on which of the sisters attack

* Vanessa: Place a barrier that reduces damage by 100% (2 attacks) to that ally

* Udanya: Grant Status Immunity to that ally (1 Time)

* Sandrine: Amplify the next buff received by 2 to that ally

* United: Use all effects of the three sisters + Restore all statuses of all allies (Excluding Holy Weapon and Time Stopper)

* Convert debuffs to buffs instead if selected ally's era corresponds with the sister.

* Critical attacks of that user +100% (3 moves)

Trio of Destiny - SPECIAL attack on all enemies x2 (XL) + Speed of all enemies -50% (3 Turns)

* When a song is deployed, attack again for each user with the singing status

* Begin United form after the attack

(Passive) Change of Sister - After an attack done by Fatum Sisters, change to the next sister

Turn order: Vanessa -> Udanya -> Sandrine

* Turn order goes back to Vanessa after Sandrine

* Turn order starts from Vanessa again after a United attack is used

#universal collision #multifandom #dislyte #Dislyte Fatum Sisters #Start of Adventurer Assists Chapter 2

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faneposting-my-beloved · 2 years ago

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Faneposter Fanfiction Tangents pt 2 (written on a phone in a train to distract myself from the horrors of destination)

I talked about Elane fairly extensively, and in close future, I ought to talk just as extensively about Vermil too, but for now we'll just lick the glacier instead of digging in since his arc is not yet fully set. So instead, let us discuss the overall, what I'd call in Polish, storytelling tissue those characters exist in.

I am Polish, and so my first real contact with literary works had been through the Polish education - that surely likes its (emphasis on alienating its) classics. To also add to this, Poland has quite unfavourable opinion on anything fantasy - schools especially seeing it as inferior to any of other genre.

With that in mind, I must admit I used to be the class weirdo who generally enjoyed the assigned reading list, especially anything revolving round Polish romanticism.

With biases and starting points out of the way, let's look at the fundamentals upon which I built 'Song of Infinity' (and partially Gold Tarnishes Quickly tbh)

To paint the picture roughly; the themes of SoI revolve around themes I fear the most and clash them with stances I admire.

1. The World - The Fatum

Starting with the classics. When I read Oedipus and Antigone, as well as snippets of Troy and Oddysey - the god-centric chain of events filled me with a sense of dread. With Oedipus or Edyp in Polish (let me stick to this version, it's easier to type) the events are very much set in stone from the very beginning according to the in-world chronology. The prophecy had rang out ages ago - and unknowingly, terrifyingly has fulfilled itself. Fatum is the fate spun by gods, and mortals are helplessly doomed to follow it. It leads one on like a curse that there is no saving from - it's your fate. Antigone's fate was cruel, yet needless, yet just, yet heartless, yet lawful. The tragedy of it all is the inability to outrun one's destiny, digging into deadly truths against all reason, but in accordance with conscience. A gradual self-inflicted self-destruction.

In the longer texts like Troy or Odyssey, Gods sit above on their golden thrones and dictate mortal or immortal lives on a whim or principle. The motif of Theatrum Mundi is beautiful and terrifying in and of itself. World is Gods' theatre (they themselves had built for amusement). A hand pulls on a string, and all ought to follow. On the same note, Gods offer advice, weaponry and armour to keep the conflict going in their favour. It ties into the Fatum, everything is set, yet one can live the hope that with luck/help/divinity - they will be the one to write their own history. History that is nothing more than a page in a grand screenplay.

Seven are the puppeteers and Rivellon is their scene...but are they really? It was not Seven who set the Veil in place between the Void and the World. The curtain raises. The real screenwriters are yet to show themselves.

So yes, I had painted a rather bleak picture where mortals, demigods, ancient dragons even (!) are actors - puppets - thrown out of their sack and into a spectacle where they are led to believe their choices matter - whilst they follow a static or altering script. But the changes are not the result of their own agenda.

So, would that be all? We did discuss Gods and Fate, but what of their subjects?

Unde malum is a Latin phrase wondering where did evil come from. Albert Camus in his 'The Plague', or my vastly preferred native title Dżuma (mostly because it sounds more ominous, and is the actual common name for the Black Death) puts a grain; a speckle; a bacteria of evil/plague in everyone. Fundamentally and regardless of symptoms everyone bears the Dżuma within. One can either succumb to it(the innate evil) or oppose it, never let it manifest. This is explained quite late in the book proper but once it properly sits within the given context and beyond, it proves horribly correct.

So we face what is an eldritch, uncontrollable and antagonistic world with rotten, power-hungry, sinful Gods and their choices - and who stand against them?

The Valiant - Winkelried and Wallenrod

Your usual knight in shining armour...on the inside. His motives are noble; his actions more than often not as much. I've based my second custom origin on chosen romantic tropes in Polish literature - Kordian and Konrad Wallenrod. Those two are proactive heroes, fighting for what they consider to be right with swords and schemes, even if they sometimes fail to execute their plans till the end. Cordian - a young man seeking a way to free his country from under the tsar's shoe (period of 100-year-old Russian occupation in Poland) adapts the position of Arnold von Winkelried in a schemed coup - one of self-sacrifice leading to the long overdue tipping of the scales. Konrad Wallenrod - a Lithuanian boy kidnapped during one of the Teutonic raids on Lithuania - becomes a Teutonic knight, while still being taught about his origin by a bard residing by the knight that took care of Konrad. Fast forward, Teutons are threatening to overcome Lithuanian forces completely, so Konrad (not his real name) returns to the Order after a few years of absence and gains the title of the Grand Master - solely to wreck confusion in Teutonic forces. He succeeds at the cost of his life, and a crucial battle is lost for the Teutonic Order.

Vermil encapsulates both of these approaches, a man with a good heart and blood on his hands, spilled in the name of a better tomorrow.

2. The Mad, The Rebel - Dziady and Balladyna

I spoke of inspirations for Elane already, but what is important to note, I do paint her actions through the lenses of (Polish) romantic Rebellion. There's not as much Werther in her as there is Konrad (but the one from Dziady pt. 3 not Wallenrod). Polish romantics are megalomaniacs, of noble intentions but with heads so high up in the clouds that they;ve completely lost the plot. Konrad is a hair's breadth away from heresy (in a heavily catholic environment) during his solitary monologue where he calls God indifferent for the miserable fate of his people and argues that he, Konrad - an artist- is an equal to the God in the act of creation. Megalomania meets God Syndrome - with no muscles to pull any ultimately - because Konrad's Great Improvisation is spoken inside a cold prison cell and his body faints before he gets the chance to even finish it. In the end, nothing is changed and nothing is gained.

Elane follows in the mindset of no gods and masters but myself, and yet she struggles in the bonds set by the world. She's set on challenging the status quo by any means necessary. She did commit the Wertheran suicide that ultimately was a rebellion from unwanted existence - just that this was not the end for her. For her - the scene gets reset; the curtain raises again, and the show must go on. There is also a speckle of Balladyna in her; as she is willing to line her way with corpses if it means she can achieve her goal later on - and her goal she must achieve because of the oedipean self-destructive urge to know. I just noticed that even appearance-wise the two women are unsettlingly similar.

Aaand with that we'll put a stop to this ....... flood of words, both familiar and unfamiliar to you. I, eh, hope that at least you learnt something new? Or that it at least was an interesting read. Polish literature class to boot. Faneposter, if you will, out.

#personal rambling #nerd talks literature #nerd talks fanfiction #song of infinity reference

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thelonely-poet · 1 year ago

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Coincidence, fate or destiny?

Coincidence.

"Coincidence is a situation where events happen at the same time in a way that is not planned or expected. Although they happen by accident, they always seem to be related. For example, Two people’s birthday falling on the same day."

Fate.

"Fate refers to the development of events outside a person’s control, which are regarded as predetermined by a supernatural power. It is based on the concept that there is a fixed natural order in the universe, which cannot be changed no matter how hard we try. Thus, fate is believed to be unavoidable or inevitable. It is also considered to be divinely inspired. The word fate comes from, Latin fatum which means ‘that which has been spoken’"

Destiny.

"Fate is outside of your control. However, you can shape destiny with your choices. Why? Because destiny is your future. Coming from the Latin term destinare, which means intended or firmly established, destiny hasn’t already been determined. Therefore, the changes that you make will affect your destiny in life."

Coincidence, fate or destiny? This question has been bothering me for a long time. Whether it's folks I've met in the past or those I'll meet in the future. I can't help but wondered which one they are and what if I never meet them? Which path should I take? Coincidence.. At the grocery store, I encountered a stranger. She knows who I am, and we eventually became friends; it was destiny. Her actions led to destiny.

“No kind of calamity occurs except by Allah’s permission. Whoever believes in Allah, He will guide his heart. Allah has knowledge of all things.” (Qur’an, 64:11)

Fate; they were meant to be together. Despite countless fights, they are intended to be together. That is fate, and it is written by Him.

Sincerely, your moon.

#fate

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wainwrightjakobshammerlock · 2 years ago

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handsome jack definitely is a tragic character in literary analysis terms - hubris, being metaphorically blinded, led to death and failure almost solely by his own actions, chained by fatum (the lost legion which saw into the future ultimately led to the same actions they were trying to prevent) etc. however he is not a hero and to label him as such is ehhhhh. also keep in mind not every tragic character is automatically sympathetic

#my post #borderlands #text post #jakobs manor metas

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wariowaretrans · 9 months ago

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hey im familiar with some of these, let me recommend

-A Short Hike, fantastic lil video game, gorgeous art, charming characters, emotional climax, 100% only takes about 4 hours. feels like a game you would rent when you were a kid and fall in love with. what more do you want?

-Exceptionals is a tabletop game about being an x man!! Queer found family, radical politics, spandex violence. The game Marvel is too chickenshit to make.

-The Case of the Serialized Killer is a fantastic Point & Click with queer characters, beautiful watercolor art, and great writing. My friend Tsushi is on the dev team for this!!

-Fatum Batula is a ps1 styled mystery game about watering an ancient plant and determining what will become of the future. Really weird and cool and unique.

-BOSSGAME is a rhythm boss rush game about lesbian devil hunters which is also on mobile!!

Hey everyone, please consider buying the 2024 itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle- it's 373 games, game-making assets, tabletop roleplaying games, zines, and comics for a minimum of just 8 USD! They have a goal of 100,000 USD, and as of the time I'm writing this post, they have 8 more days to reach it.

Link will be in the reblog!

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turangalila · 1 year ago

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Jean Hanelle of Cambrai (c.1380 - c.1436) Cypriot Vespers [I-Tn MS J.II.9 Biblioteca Nazionale Universitaria, Torino, Italy]

_ O Sapientia (plainchant) _ O Sapientia incarnata / Nos demoramur

_ O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem,fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia:veni ad docendum nos

_ O Adonai (plainchant) _ O Adonai domus Israel / Pictor eterne syderum

_ O Adonay, et Dux domus Israel, / qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, / et ei in Sina legem dedisti: / veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

_ O radix Jesse (plainchant) _ O radix Jesse splendida / Cuncti fundent precamina

_ O Radix Yesse, qui stas in signum populorum, / super quem continebunt reges os suum, / quem Gentes deprecabuntur: / veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.

_ O Clavis David (plainchant) _ O Clavis David aurea / Quis igitur aperiet

_ O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel; qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

_ O Clavis David aurea / et sceptrum Israeliticum / adaperiens sydera / per baculum propheticum, / nulli tam grandis opera /qui possit tuum abditum /noticia tam prospera / sibi tenere subditum. / Nemo claudit cum aperis, /nemo cum claudis aperit, / nemo negat si asseris, / omnis, cum iubes, obedit. / Veni cito, si iusseris, / cor desolatum defuit, / succurre, precor, miseris / quibus reatus obfuit, / vinctos de domo carceris / educ ad lucem presperam, / quos primi culpa sceleris / viam immersit deviam. / Ut sedeant in tenebris /prodant antiquam patriam, / ergo nos ab illecebris, / clavis, reduc in propriam, / quos mors in umbris continet. //

Quis igitur aperiet, / vinctos solvet ligamine, / quis declamantes audiet / ut revincantur carcere? / Sola clavis davitica / que tecta cunta reserat, / Israel, domus inclita, / ut victoriam referat. / Defractis Ditis postibus / portas attollet principum, / et mute factis hostibus, / franget ianuas demonum. / Sedentes tunc in tenebris / et in mortis calígine / vincla remittent demonis / sine iuris examine. / Veni, tu clavis optima / et carceratos libera. //

_ O Oriens (plainchant) _ O Oriens, lucis eterne splendor / Veni splendor mirabilis

_ O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

_ O Rex gentium (plainchant) _ O Rex virtutum gloria / Quis possit digne exprimere

_ O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum, lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum: veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti.

_ O Emanuel (plainchant) _ O Emanuel rex noster / Magne virtutum conditor

_ O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio Gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos, Domine, Deus noster

_ O Emanuel, rex noster, / gentium expectatio, / o salvator et legifer, / fessorum exhortatio, / fidelium salutifer, / o tuorum salvator / o inclite vexillifer, / hostium pavefactio. / Sane languentes propere, / ne languore deficiant; / lacrimas nostras apprime / sicca, ne magis defluant; / promissiones relege / et cito nobis affluant; / errantes pedes revehe / ne prepediti decidant. / Infelix hostis corruat / et tu veni redimere / quos ille nodis alligat. / Tu iube manu solvere, / penam quam ille preparat / velis, pie, destruere, / ne Tartarus absorbeat / quos tu iussisti vivere: / veni, antequam rapiat.//

Magne virtutum conditor, / Emanuel rectissime, / firme potentum domitor, / Deus noster doctissime, / alte celorum ianitor, / mandator invictissime, / summe iustorum portitor, / donator clementissime. / Virga silentum diligens, / et tremor infernalium, / panis et potus refovens, / corona supernalium, / habitaculum redolens, / domus cara fidelium, / gloria indeficiens / ad alta properantium. / Veni salvare, Domine, / diu qui expectavimus, / coperi nos de lumine / quod diu perquisivimus. //

_ O Virgo virginum (plainchant) _ O sacra Virgo Virginum / Tu nati nata suscipe

_ O Virgo virginum, quomodo fiet istud? / Quia nec primam similem visa es nec habere sequentem. / Filiae Jerusalem, quid me admiramini? / Divinum est mysterium hoc quod cernitis.

_ Hodie Christus natus est (plainchant) _ Hodie puer nascitur / Homo mortalis firmiter

_ Hodie Christus natus est: / hodie Salvator apparuit: / hodie in terra canunt Angeli, / laetantur Archangeli / hodie exsultant justi, dicentes: / gloria in excelsis Deo. / Alleluia.

_ Jean Hanelle – Cypriot Vespers. Maronite and Byzantine Chants, Motets and Plainchant. Graindelavoix. Björn Schmelzer (2016, Glossa – GCD P32112)

#jean hanelle #medieval #sacred #antiphon #plainchant #motet #advent #choir #graindelavoix

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