#I want this also with the two young monks. :3

[barananduen-blog]

Wang Yinglu as Feng Baobao + Dai Si as Feng Shayan for "I am Nobody" feature on Trendmo magazine

More at sources: [Feng Baobao] [Feng Shayan]

[quitealotofsodapop]

So in your Tiger Monk AU how many kittens does Sanzang end up having?

Was it an easy birth or were there complications?

How many sons and/or daughters?

What are their names?

Do any of his cat suitors (particularly Azure) try to court him by showing him that they can get along with and take care of his kittens?

Only to met with the kittens’ claws and Sanzang’s hissing (and that’s just when the other pilgrims aren’t around 🤣)

Do any of the demons that still try to eat Sanzang go after the kittens, thinking their flesh and blood will have the same effect as their baba’s (mama?) ?

And which of the pilgrims (and Macaque) ends up being the kittens’ favorite babysitter?

Prev.

While it would hilarious to torment our dear Monk with a large litter (Tigers sometimes get up to seven kittens/cubs at a time), odds are he ends up with the average 2-4 kittens.

Tripitaka takes to the "mother/mama" title more readily than the male counterparts. After all, if the Bodhisattva can be referred to in both male and female terms, why can't he?

His worst symptoms (in his opinion) is an overwhelming craving for organ meat. He finds it disgusting, but he needs that iron.

The only reason Tripitaka isn't swamped by suitors like before is because they're all afraid of whom was able to father the Great Monk's young (i.e. himself via river magic).

Tripitaka only choses two names at first, A boy and girl, telling his disciples that they can choose any extras when the time comes. He wants to honour his parents, Chen Guangrui (陳光蕊) and Yin Wenjiao (殷溫嬌), whom he nor his children will ever truly know, so he ensures both names contain a character from each.

Wēnhòu/温厚 - "good natured, warm and generous". Wukong got confused after hearing this name since it sounded like "tender monkey". That was unintentional, but Wukong excitedly thought the second character was to honour him, and Tripitaka was too tired to change it

Bōguāng/波光 - "reflection of sunlight on waves". A very pretty name. Ao Lie started laughing when he heard it and wouldn't tell Tripitaka why until the gang encountered Prince Mo'ang. "Master is naming his first born son Boguang!" Now all the dragons think Tripitaka did it as a sign of good faith to dragon kind.

Tripitaka has no delusions on the matter; he is male from birth, and the only reason he knows he can survive this mystical pregnancy is 1: A Demon's natural ability to shapeshift, 2: His increased healing ability, 3: Surprising reassurance from the Six Eared Macaque of all people.

(*the Pilgrims have set up camp for the night, all asleep save for a certain monk. Tripitaka is praying, still unfathomably worried about his and his child's health.*) Macaque, manifesting from the shadows: "Cut the mopping, fluffy. I can hear it from across the valley." Tripitaka, eyes fixed on the fire: "I'm sorry..." Macaque, sighs and groans: "My ears... aren't just for show you know. They don't just hear the Now, but also the Past, and Future. It's all in the wind." Tripitaka: "That's a marvellous ability to possess. But I fail to see how it will help-" Macaque: "You're going to be fine. You and your kids. Thats what I've heard." Tripitaka: (*surprised but secretly ecstatic with the news. Rubs hand on stomach where a lot of kicking it happening*) Tripitaka, warm smile: "Thank you, Liu'er Mihou. You've put a great worry of mine to rest." Macaque, acting nonchalant: "Whatever. Just don't want to be kept up all night by your panicking. There's three by the way." Tripitaka: "...wait, THREE!?!" Macaque, evil smile: "Enjoy!" (*shadow portals away*)

The cubs likely only arrive after some years (demonic pregnancy and all), and whilst it would be nice and clean for them to only arrive after the gang completes their Journey...

Imagine the utter chaos that would occur if the Great Monk's children decided to be born at Lion Camel Ridge? >:3

The Pilgrims and the Brotherhood are arguing, causing a huge fuss when Tripitaka, like a character in a Victorian romance novel, faints upon the nearest surface.

Guanyin teleports on scene and tells everyone to STFU - baby Golden Cicadas are in-bound!

The process is long and tiring, but doesn't have many complications. The main issue is trying to keep the parent awake - Tripitaka depleting all his energy to bring his children into the world.

Wenhou/温厚 (First Born): A feisty little girl. Is out kicking and hissing before her eyes even open. Has more prominent white markings than orange or black. A right diva/princess of a kitten, if something doesn't go her way, she lets everyone know about it. Bajie can't say no to his baby niece, and spoils her rotten despite Tripitaka's objections.

Boguang/波光 (Second Born): A confused little panther (black-furred tiger) who immediately gets into an argument with his older sister when she kicks him. Mostly chill but quick to sibling-on-sibling violence. Most mischievous. Loves hiding in people's hair, and due to blending in and causing his family to panic searching for him; his fave is Macaque (the feeling is mutual).

Tangzǐ/唐子/"Little Tang/Tangy" (Third Born): The runt of the litter. Tangzi took a much longer time to arrive than his siblings and even longer to start crying, worrying his family immensely. Guanyin even stepped in to rub the baby's chest until they got a solid angry "Mew!" from him. Eventually though, he's heartily eating and has as much hunting instinct as a sheep. Loves his Uncle/Big Brother Wukong the most-

HEY WAIT A MINUTE:

When did he get here!?

But yeah, 3rd babu is LMK Tang. All lazy and hungry and giving the big kitten eyes to get what he wants. He's named "Tangzi" as a joke to how much he looks like his mama + a pun on how much he exaggerates things like his hunger or how big that bug he saw was.

Tripitaka sighs tiredly. He never thought he could love someone so much until he met his cubs. He instinctually grooms them clean as a mother tiger would, and only allows his closest companions near enough to see them.

In drafting these Tripitaka river-kiddos I realised I accidentally did something XD

As for suitors and those who'd wish the kittens harm - it will be certainly a task to get anywhere close to them with not only their protective mama tiger nearby, but also their vigilant uncles!

If a demon ever actually managed to harm one of the babies to try and consume their divine energy - Guanyin themselves would step in and tear them limb from limb.

The gang are forced to stay at Lion Camel Ridge a little longer than planned. The demon populace are surprisingly accepting, and even joyous by the Great Monk's situation! One "of their own" is going to make it up the ranks of Western Heaven, and has produced healthy cubs that not even the Buddha can deny the preciousness of!

Azure attempts to greet the kittens personally shortly after the birth, only to get three tiny swipes at his nose, followed by a much larger one from Tripitaka himself. He's more in love than he could ever be.

[art-story-by-deroko]

"Awoken memories"

-If you have a problem with me...

...then spit it out, man.

It relates to this post. My “Afterthoughts” AU has two endings. This is from the “bad one”.

Since Bon is Buddhist monk he probably believes in reincarnation.

Imagine if maybe... A century after he passed away Rin meets a young exwire one day who looks, acts and sounds like his Bon.

I tried to show something like rebranded True Cross Academy uniform. The arrows on "reincarnated Ryuji's" shoulder is a special version for "exorcist cadets". The blue arrow represents that, the orange represents main Aria course and his class. In this timeline exorcist are wildly known and even considered a prestige position in life. Even after a couple centuries demons are rampant and fighting for Assiah freedom is a nonstop job. At this point Rin is the Paladin of True Cross Order for at least the last 60 years. They even gave him even more special title:

"Echo"

Rin also leads Myodha's sect since the day of Ryuji's passing.

It's not like he is responsible for everything there but the sect is under his explicit protection as a part of his family. Because they are. He is a highest Elder amongst their people. He is responsible for big decisions and changes in organisation. Also the sect grown big enough to be considered a daughter branch of True Cross Order. Pretty much even gaining autonomy and independence while being Order's Allies.

So Ryuji's reincarnation is actually from that branch since it's a large Buddhist organisation with connections amongst families.

Rin doesn't know them all personally sometimes so he was not aware of his existence.

Some cadets are invited to True Cross Academy from that branch too. His name is Ryugo (龍吾: dragon; me, I. As if screaming about his past life). And he is from a distant village down south of Japan.

Also Rin was not aware of Ryugo's existence but the young man actually was. Rin is his hero and he admires their "Highest Elder" to the moon and back for everything he has done for the sect and the world. He also wants to be his apprentice. And he WILL succeed in his pursuit. But Rin will accept him on his secon year after many attempts to keep distance from someone who was his Ryuji but not him at the same time. Exorcist training is now 3 year course as any other faculties.

Also, Ryugo did fall for Rin the first day he arrived at Academy.

Mephisto lost a lot of his powers during war. So every 10 years Rin would perform a flashy ritual on the first day before the sudents to renew a powerful barrier around True Cross town. (Many exorcists wannabes enroll in Academy a couple weeks earlier to train and preform in that “show” and help to solidify a stable barrier. Ryugo was one of these wannabes)

He fell hard. It was a mix of his admiration and unexplainable feelings he held since the day he saw him in person. (Perhaps these are remains of Ryuji's will and a wish to find Rin in his next life to be with him again. Too bad he didn't have time to say it out loud on his deathbed while he looked in Rin's teary eyes with his last breath)

[johnkahner]

A Stray Cat in a Strange Place [Part 2]

AN: Part 2 of the story I started to write. I gave the cat a name because Fujin wouldn't actually know your name. It's not mentioned often, but I just wanted to let you know before reading. Also I imagine Fujin being really protective of his newly adopted cat. I had fun writing this, so I hope you all enjoy it! Not proof read.

Notes: Platonic Relationships, Gender-Neutral! Cat! Reader, fluff

Part 1 - Part 3

“The little one doesn’t seem to like any of these names, Fujin.”

The elder brother noted to the younger brother. Who knew coming up with a name for a pet would be so hard!? Fujin wanted his new family member to have a wonderful name, but he also wanted you to like it too! He was wondering if you were even listening to him now that made him pout a little. 

You stretch your body out and yawn. Looking at your new friend you move to nuzzle him. Raiden watches how the two of you interact with one another. He wants to pet you, but he doesn’t want to in front of his younger brother. He felt like Fujin would jest with him about his demeanor change towards you. 

Fujin picks you up to walk over towards the window, and opens it so you both could enjoy the pleasant breeze. His eyes widened. Like a new inspiration shot him. He looks down at you. Tilting your head to the side and responding with a questionable meow. He laughs at your reaction. He thought it was so cute. 

“I thought of a new name!”

“You have now?”

“Yes! I think it would suit this little one quite well!”

Raiden raises an eyebrow to Fujin. Fujin turns around to see his reaction, having a wide smile on his own face. 

“Haruka! Or maybe Haru for short? What do you two think?”

You meow at him. You don’t mind the name. It has a nice ring to it. You look over to see Raiden’s reaction. He appears to be in thought. 

“It seems they like the name, and I think it does quite suit them as well.”

Fujin pulls you into a tight hug, thankfully it wasn’t too tight to hurt you any. Raiden stiffens when he sees that you could be distraught now.

“I’m overjoyed that you have a name now, Haruka!”

“Fujin, perhaps you shouldn’t be squeezing Haruka like that. They don’t seem too… comfortable right now.”

Panic filled his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt you. He just wanted to show you the affection you deserve. He lays you down on the bed. You feel an instinct to attack something, and your victim is the bedding on Fujin’s bed. You can’t control your cat urges. Swatting at the covers, and rolling around on them, has the two chuckling lightly at your performance. 

That was until someone came knocking on the door. A brand new face appears, you wonder how many people lived here exactly and where exactly were you. The new man looks at you slightly confused. 

“Lord Raiden, Lord Fujin the monks said there was something they needed to discuss with the two of you.”

Maybe this is your chance to roam around and see what the rest of your new home looks like. The two men sigh, just when things were getting right on track. Raiden looks at the young man. 

“Liu Kang, could you watch over Haruka for us?” 

“Yes I can, Lord Raiden.” He bows, then he rises to look at you.

So this man is named Liu Kang. At least it didn’t take long to learn his name. Wait. Did he call the grumpy man ‘Lord’? What the hell? This just adds to your questions about this duo. You look at the three of them and release a little meow not sure what to do now. 

Fujin goes to pet your head. You nuzzle into the palm of his hand purring. 

“I’ll return as fast as I can.” 

He smiles at you gently. While Raiden only nods at you. They leave the room to go see what the monks needed. Liu Kang and you are now left alone in the room. You head towards the door, turn to look at him, and meow indicating for him to follow you. He grins at you with a light chuckle. 

Walking around the temple was quite the adventure. However, not long during the trip Liu Kang decided to pick you and carry you around. He walks by the training grounds, and soon a voice is shouting at Liu Kang. When he turns he sees a man wearing a funny looking hat, but it’s different from the one you’ve seen Raiden wear. This man’s hat seems more dangerous with the blade that is around the rim of it. It scares you a little, causing your ears to go back. Liu Kang pets you trying to calm your nerves.

“When did you get a cat?”

“This is the cat that Lord Fujin brought with him when he returned.”

You still try to hide from the man. Liu Kang speaks again.

“I think you’re scaring them, Kung Lao.”

“Huh? How am I even scary?”

He seems baffled at his friend's words. You want to run away right now. You want to be near Fujin, or maybe Raiden. You feel uncomfortable right now. Maybe if you hiss, Liu Kang would set you down on the ground, but you don’t want to cause him any harm if you were to scratch him. 

When you hiss and growl at the two, and just as you hope Liu Kang sets you down on the ground. As soon as your paws are on the ground, you bolt off. They are shocked by your actions. Liu Kang shouts and runs after you in a panic. Kung Lao is just confused by what happened. Not long after he follows after the two. 

The two ran past you. Thankfully you were able to quickly hide from them. You want to be by yourself for a moment, so it would hopefully be easier for you to calm down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Carefully looking both ways you try to find Fujin. 

As the two men were running looking for you. They failed to notice that some of the monks were staring at them. Unfortunately for them, they failed to notice that Fujin was also staring at them. Fujin walks over to them. 

“What are you two doing?”

They look at each other. Liu Kang gulps. 

“Lord Fujin, I can explain!” 

As you were wandering around, someone approached you to pick you up. Your body tenses at the contact then tries to wiggly away not knowing who this was. You weren’t familiar with how you were being held, and you also had your eyes closed.

“Relax, little one.”

Perking up at the voice of who held you. You open your eyes to see none other than Raiden. Well, he wasn’t Fujin, but he did hold you gently. You meowed at him.

“What are you even doing out here? And where’s Liu Kang?” 

He looks around not seeing him anywhere in sight. He looks angry. You wish he wasn’t, it wasn’t Liu Kang’s fault but your own. However, you can’t exactly tell Raiden that though. You look at him and begin to purr hoping it may calm his anger. He sighs, letting you nuzzle his hand. 

“Now let’s go find that brother of mine, shall we?”

You meow in agreement, excited to see Fujin once again. You hope that Liu Kang won’t get into too much trouble, and you honestly don’t know if that other guy would get in trouble. You’ll just have to wait and see. 

As Raiden approaches his brother, you can see him yelling at someone. Unfortunately it is Liu Kang on the receiving end of his anger. Liu Kang’s head is down listening to Fujin’s angry words.

“Brother, that’s enough.” 

Fujin turns around to see you in Raiden’s arms. He forgets about Liu Kang, and runs over to Raiden. He grabs, hugs you, and gives you little kisses on your head. You were purring. Looking over to Liu Kang you feel bad. You try to struggle out of Fujin’s grasp. Succeeding you walk over to Liu Kang meowing sadly. You want to apologize for your actions. 

Liu Kang bends down to pet you. You hope he understands what you were trying to say. He smiles gently at you. 

“It’s okay, Haruka.” 

“What happened, Liu Kang?”

Raiden inquires about the events that transpired after they left. Liu Kang begins to explain what happened to the two men. Before, when he was on the receiving end of Fujin’s anger he barely got a chance to explain what exactly happened.

“We were on a walk. I think they wanted to see what was outside Lord Fujin’s room. During our walk, we encountered Kung Lao, and they seemed to be scared of him. Not long after that they ran off. We were looking for Haruka. When Lord Fujin caught us, Kung Lao went off to go find them while I stayed here.”

The brothers were looking at Liu Kang then at you. You nodded your head at his words. 

“Why were they afraid of Kung Lao though?”

“Haruka seemed scared when they saw his hat.”

Liu Kang’s words caused Fujin to laugh. He never thought you would be afraid of a hat. Your afraid reaction at the mention of the cat only seemed to prove his theory. Fujin picks you up again trying to soothe you. Telling you that you are safe, and that Kung Lao’s hat wouldn’t get you. 

You felt your stomach rumble. You nibble on Fujin’s hand to try to give him the hint. He chuckles, and it seems that the anger he felt earlier had all disappeared now. He walks off to the kitchen area to prepare some food for you. Raiden and Liu Kang follow not too far behind him. 

You wonder if this will be how your life will be now. As long as Fujin is there to help you, you don’t mind. You like the people you’ve met so far. Maybe next time you meet Kung Lao, you’ll try to get to know him better.

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

How would you rank the characters living under Jack's reign in the bad future from who's having the "best" time vs who's having the worst? (excluding Jack himself obv he's having a good time lol)

6-Hannibal Roy Bean

Being stuck in this undersized, undignified cage and blown up to a size where you can't even move, and labeled as "The Musical Fruit" are all humiliating.

But Hannibal's been locked up for centuries before, so this is hardly going to break his spirit, especially Jack is mortal and getting very old, so it feels like the immortals in the dungeon have this mindset that they can sort of just wait it out.

Granted, Hannibal does look weirdly mishappen and... mushy? So I wonder what exactly Jack has done to his body to make him end up like this.

With how distended and full his lower body looks now, and with the suspicious absence of Hannibal's only companion, I sort of suspect that Jack somehow forcefed Ying-Ying to Hannibal...? But even if that's not the case, the absence of Ying-Ying is another form of torture for him, since that's the only other being who he truly likes.

5-Master Fung

Master Fung is as skilled and untouchable as ever. Moreso in fact, because he seems like he doesn't really get winded by battles anymore. His mind may have dulled somewhat, but his physical form and skill has sharpened with age during the time skip.

The gladiator shows they're forced to put on are miserable for everyone, but none of Jack's bots are able to even scratch Master Fung, and he beats them without a sweat.

He has an easier time against Jack's lion-bots than he did against the real jungle cats, who he also handily beat.

And Master Fung's confusion and memory problems seem to stave off despair, at least. Though he's still having an awful time here.

4-Wuya

Hers is mostly another humiliation thing, but unlike Hannibal's, Wuya's also has this visceral, creepy factor to it. Jack apparently forcibly changed her clothes and did up her hair in accordance to his own taste for cheerleaders, complete with pigtails and his initial.

In addition to that, she's also suspended over a pit of boiled lava. The rising heat from that is probably the physical torture, along with just how uncomfortable the chains are.

But the worst part for Wuya is probably that Jack has somehow stolen the powers that were sealed away from her and is in control of her stone golems now, to add insult to injury. That probably stings more than any aspect of this setup.

3-Le Mime

Also in this gladiatorial thing, but Le Mime's never really been shown to be able to fight and he can't even take a hit from his own scrawny arm. And since he's just cowering here, the lion bots apparently have some way of getting past his Miming, so he can't protect himself behind his invisible walls.

He's got nothing he can do but weather the humiliations and pain of these losing battles.

2- Chase Young

His torture devices is definitely the most intricate.

Water drop torture, stripped of his clothes (including his underwear because those boxers notably aren't Chase's), suspended in this metal contraption with a paintbrush spreading something over his abdomen.

Chase's is also the only torture device that is surrounded by bloodstains.

And he's in a dungeon with Wuya and Hannibal, the people who he'd least want to be trapped with. None of them are gagged, so they both could at least take as many pot-shots at Chase as they wanted to. Those two are better at getting under Chase skin than anyone else, and even though Chase probably shot insults back, it was 2-against-1 there.

And the first and only line we get from Chase implies that he's been on the edge of hope waiting to see Omi again after all this time with no word on his fate. Despite everything that's been happening, Omi's still been on his mind this whole time with no answers for 80 years.

So he had quite a bit of both physical and psychological torture to deal with.

1-The Monks

They have frequent gladiatorial matches and an awful living situation. Old age has definitely slowed them down, so their matches probably don't end without injury like Master Fung's do.

And they still never found out what happened to Omi and Dojo, after all this time. They're all mentally beating themselves up over that, and over the state of the world. They're crushed by this feeling that they've failed in their duty towards it, and they don't know if their friends are dead or alive.

And the end, minutes after they find their first spark of hope in decades, where they're all brutally murdered. They're extremely painful deaths, too. Clay is shot by lasers, Raimundo is crushed, Kimiko is pulled apart limb-from-limb.

Taking that into consideration definitely makes them number one on this list. Can't have a much worse time than that.

Honorable Mention: Omi

He was only there for a little bit, so I can't really rank him anywhere on the list. But watching all his friends be brutally murdered in front of him certainly left an impression.

And Omi's the only one who will have any impression of all this at all. Whether you think the space-time merging of the alternate timeline left ripples of memories in the others or not, this is just a bad future of the main timeline, so no one's actually experienced it. Omi's the only one who'll remember this nightmare. It's seared into his memory for good.

[sorceresssundries]

Gale sketches by @orangekittyenergy <3

CHAPTER 2 (of 2)

Link to chapter 1 here

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: Set post-game where Tav did not feature in Gale's troubles in Baldur's Gate. A whip-cracking, fedora wearing, Indiana Jones inspired mini-adventure - where Professor Dekarios is tempted out of the classroom, and on yet another perilous quest.

Warnings: THIS IS NSFW! *blares smut horn* Plot with smut. But, you have been warned.

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Just a bit of a fun based on the Gale as Indiana comparisons. Also, he looks like a young Harrison Ford, how could I not? This is not the stuff I'm used to writing! But it's been enjoyable and nice to try something new.

Elltavia’s senses were prickling again, whatever was buried in the remains of this temple was beating like a rotted heart, pulsing decay and corruption outwards through the forest. They were close to the cause, she could feel it. She just hoped whatever was the cause of the infection didn’t get to her before she could save her home.

Along the far wall of the room were four murals that stood out in a line. The once clean, carved scenes were eroded and time-beaten, but just about decipherable. 

The four images depicted monks in various states of torment. The first monk strained under the weight of a massive rock, muscles taut with effort as it pressed down upon him. The second monk, blood dripping from his hand and ears, was feverishly inscribing words upon a scroll, clearly in agony. In the third panel, a monk appeared submerged and drowning beneath a cascade of shimmering gold, his features twisted and bloated. 

The final tableau showed two figures, stripped bare, entwined in an act that should have been pleasurable. However, their expressions were ambiguous, dancing somewhere between ecstasy and agony. The knife suspended ominously above their heads left little doubt about their fate.

Underneath each carving was a word in an ancient language, which Gale was able to translate. 

STRENGTH. KNOWLEDGE. WEALTH. LUST

Hovering above the scenes of suffering was a much larger image of a monk in resplendent robes, his hands covering his eyes as he sat before a closed book as if to shield himself from an unbearable truth. The book sat on a carved pedestal, and shimmered with golden light. The lines of the monk’s robes flowed gracefully, dancing in a breeze that no longer existed. The expression of the hidden face was left to the imagination, but Gale’s imagination didn’t have to work very hard. The monk was shielding himself from whatever was written in that book. 

Gale‘s chest suddenly went tight, as though the orb that had once branded his skin and burned an aching, insatiable hunger within him was back. The ghost of a pain which would never truly leave him.  He couldn’t help but see himself in the image, as though it was a mocking interpretation of his great folly. 

Unlike this monk, when he was tempted, he had not been strong enough to cover his eyes. He had suffered the same torment as the other tortured souls. It wouldn't have seemed out of place to see a carving of a wizard with a dark orb branded upon his chest, bent over and crippled by unending pain and sharp regret. His hand once again absentmindedly moved to his chest.

“What is in that book, do you think?” Elltavia was started to get concerned by the faraway look in Gale’s eyes. She had not known him long, but she knew it was unlike him to be this quiet. Whether in a classroom, or on an adventure - he was a born teacher. He had the engaging, adaptable, patient, rare soul of someone who had collected knowledge like precious treasure, and all he seemed to ever want to do is share it. He was not made to be silent, and it worried her.

"Fortune and glory, Kidd." Gale continued to read the fragile inscriptions—warnings, death sentences, holy scriptures, and gold-tinted promises of doom for the unworthy. Yet, for those with the resolve to grasp it, an ultimate blessing. "Fortune and glory."

After more studying, Gale pressed his hand against an indent in the wall, and a rumbling echoed around them.

"I think we've found where the ritual would take place," he murmured.

The carved, ancient pedestal holding the book shown in the mural rose from the ground in the room’s centre, a half-decayed corpse resting against it, its mouldering hand still holding the book open, as if in a final, desperate grasp for whatever it contained. 

"That book should not be open." Gale could feel the power emanating from it, warping and stretching the weave of magic around it. This was no ordinary spellcraft; it was far beyond his capabilities. Once, he would have been desperate to grasp it, to drink the forbidden magic until it drowned him. A long time ago, It almost had.

The source of the blight was finally clear. The book had to be closed, or the rot would continue to spread, cursing the forest and luring as many as it could to this place. The book was a lure, a power to draw people here to be tested, indifferent to the fate it bestowed upon them. The burning ache of the sussur, which had been simmering under his skin, began to flare and bubble. His magic tingled in his bones, demanding to be used, to cast protection over him. His mind was flooded with the weave, and the agony of not being able to use it was overwhelming.

“Close the book!” He hissed through clenched teeth, doubled over in pain. 

Elltavia approached the book tentatively, with ranger’s care. The closer she got, the more Gale’s words became a far-away song, trailing distantly away from the fluttering pages. Each turn caused a soft rustle; leaves whispering secrets in a forest grove. It was the sound of her home, and it was calling to her. The book cast a gentle glow, soft as yellow moonlight. And with every intake of breath, she could swear the scent of pine mingled with the earthy perfume of petrichor sank deep, holding and soothing her. 

Surely within its pages lay the answers they were looking for. It called out to her with a sweetness that stirred her soul, a siren's song promising sanctuary. The glowing page was right there in front of her, she just had to read the inscription…

I am the lure in darkest gloom, A whispered hope, a flick'ring bloom. In greed-drenched shade, I bide my time, Thy greatest urge will feed my shrine.

What am I? A tempter, sly, In every soul, doth ever lie. Resist the call for but one hour, Prevail, and gain the worthy’s power

“Elltavia, NO!” 

And she burned.

It felt as though tendrils of flame were invading her through her nose, her mouth, sinking through her skin, licking the very bones of her. It was tugging at her, calling to her, scalding all the way through her. She was a woman aflame, and there was only one way to extinguish the fire. She needed Gale, and she needed him now. 

He rushed over, and managed to close the book - but not before catching a glimpse of the inscription within. As soon as he had read the words, the book and pedestal began to descend ominously back into the ground.

“Gale..” Elltavia’s voice was suddenly breathy and skin clammy as Gale grabbed hold of her and started to check her over. 

“It’s the test, Kidd.” He appraised her pupils to see that they were blown wide, her breathing heavy. The spell was undeniably affecting her, not just emotionally but physically too. Her skin glimmered with a light sheen of sweat. Were her lips fuller, even more inviting than before? Surely it was a trick of the light? The urge to press his own against them, to run his tongue along her bottom lip, was all-consuming.

He pulled away abruptly, almost harshly, startled by the intensity of his desire. He had anticipated challenges to his resolve, but not in this way. He had mentally prepared himself for his ambition, his hubris, his self-worth to be cut out and dissected in front of him, to once again have to pull himself back from the brink of his unending desperation to prove himself. It was his tragic flaw, it always would be. He had not prepared himself for this.

The atmosphere crackled with a potent mix of heat and something deeper, something elemental. Lust. It hung thick in the air, dense and suffocating. It wrapped around him like a lover’s embrace, seeping into the marrow of his bones. He was suddenly starving, and she was ripe and ready to be savoured. He remembered when she had bitten the apple from his desk. How her eyes had met his as she bit down, how the juice had trailed down from the side of her lips to her chin…

“It sai..said.” Elltavia had her arms wrapped around herself, as though trying to hold herself back, and Gale desperately wanted to unfurl them and spread her out on the ground like a map. There was priceless treasure to be discovered. He ached from not touching her.

“It said something about lure.. Temptation..” Her breathing was heavy and lust-soaked. “Resist for an hour.. And we’ll pass the test.”

An hour of this, he thought bleakly, he did not know how he would stop himself from devouring her.

“I have rope” she panted “In my pack. You should tie me up.”

His response to that was a low, feral groan which seemed to rumble from deep within his chest. “I don’t think bondage will help me out here, Kidd.”

Struggling against this overwhelming desire was futile; he was a weary child resisting the pull of the receding tide, or a final leaf clinging to its branch before the onslaught of autumn's chill. He was no match for her; he was a raft-bound castaway - and she was the oncoming tempest. 

Together they melted into a pool of tongue and hands, rushed and heavy. There was no softness or words of delicacy, no declarations or promises of what would come after. There was only urgency. There was only her and him and now. At the meet of their lips and the ripping of her shirt underneath his strong, tanned hands there was a rumbling noise which ripped around them and caused loose stone and dust to fall from the ceiling. The shock of it managed to distract them long enough to prise themselves away from each other. The second they pulled apart, the noise stopped. 

“An earthquake?” He questioned through rough panting, speaking out loud rather than to her in particular. He quickly moved to one of the far walls and ran his hands over it, feeling for any structural damage and waiting silently for an aftershock.

As soon as his fingers stroked the grooves in the stone, Elltavia was behind him. She pushed him against the wall, and pressed herself against his back, standing on her tiptoes to lick and bite at the nape of his neck. 

“Who cares?” She whined. Her hands made their way up the back of his shirt and she dragged her nails down his skin. The sound he made was sinful, and as soon as her tongue licked at the sweat trailing down his spine, the rumbling started again. This time they were both knocked backwards by the wall Gale was pressed against, as it started to straighten out and move towards them. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, on his back. He could barely think straight, all his focus and all his blood was currently gathered in hard desperation between his legs. Urging to be sank into the ranger panting on the floor next to him. 

She swung her leg round to mount herself on top of him, pinning him to the ground under her hips.

“Wait” he hissed through gritted teeth. She managed to stop herself from sucking on his bottom lip long enough to hear what he wanted to say, she desperately hoped it would be something filthy. Her restraint in her longing for his mouth didn’t stop her grinding her hips down against him. She gasped at how hard he was underneath her. To her shock, he grabbed her upper arms and managed, with difficulty, to push her off him and he sprang up and backed away from her with his arms out. 

“Listen, Kidd, when we give into our temptation, to our urge, it sets off the trap.” 

She tried to take in what he was saying, and she used her sharp, predator’s focus to survey the room. She had not previously noticed the heavy layer of dust which had settled on the holy ground. Bonedust. The bleak realisation sank in. This was all that was left of others who had been tested. The book was an incendiary, designed to spark simmering desire into a roaring flame. Resist it, or be crushed.

“I am your temptation?” She rasped. “Gale, of all the fucking things to desire?!” 

“You’re one to talk!” He snapped. The cord that felt wrapped around him was tightening in frustration. This woman was literally going to be the death of him. This stubborn, infuriating, smart-ass was how he was going to die. He wanted to take his whip out and coil the leather around her… 

“Fuck!” He said, turning around so he could no longer see her pouring out of her sweaty, ripped shirt. 

“The temptation is each other… right?” She breathed.

“Obviously.” 

“Then… then we can still.. Touch ourselves, can’t we?”

It was like pouring oil on a bonfire, the thought of her unbound and lost in her own touch, bringing herself to the brink of pleasure and plunging over a cliff of her own making was unbearable. He wanted to palm himself right there in front of her just from the thought of it. 

She didn’t wait for him to answer, her hand quickly found its way into her underwear and to where she needed it most. She was a writhing mess on the floor - but the walls did not move. 

He sank and crawled to her, and positioned himself over her, resting his forearms on the ground next to her shoulders, clenching his fists in frustration and caging her beneath him, but not touching her. He allowed one of his knees to push her thigh upwards, splaying her further apart. But he did not give her any further contact. He just held himself over her as she moaned and bucked her hips into her own hand. His gaze was as desperate and intense as any touch could be. Beads of sweat traced paths down his temple, falling onto her skin like liquid fire. Every inch of her felt alive, every nerve alight with anticipation. As he lowered his head, his breath danced against her neck, tantalisingly close yet never touching. His lips hovered, a mere whisper away, and she teetered on the edge of combustion.

“I’ve wanted you since you flashed your thigh at my desk.” His voice was almost unrecognisable, dark as sin itself. The lilt of his words caressing her skin. “I wanted to be that fruit on your tongue. The flesh on your lips.”  She gasped, but could not respond. Her eyes fluttered shut as she imagined how he would taste as he spilled herself down her throat in ecstasy. 

“Don’t you dare stop looking at me.” He growled.

Her eyes flashed open again to meet his, and his command would have sent her spiralling, but something was wrong. 

“I can’t.. It won’t…” She removed her hand in desperation, and it took every ounce of resilience he had not to grab hold of her wrist and drag her lust-soaked fingers between his teeth and roll his tongue against them. “It just makes it worse.” 

The walls were still at each end of the room, they had barely moved. The two of them were safe, maybe there was time to…

“Fuck it.” He said, and he lifted her robe and tore her underwear off her. Gods, the scent of her. He wanted to spend a whole day with his nose buried at the source of her divine, needy musk.

 He did not have a whole day, he had minutes at most. 

“Is this what you want?” He asked, shaking with the resolve it took to show her the decency she deserved.

“No” She responded, but before he could even attempt to pull himself away from her, she wrapped her powerful warrior's thighs around him and flipped them so he was beneath her. 

“This is what I want.” 

She turned round above him so her cunt was hovering over his face, just out of reach. This position gave her the chance to unbuckle his belt and finally get her hands where she wanted them. There was no time to undress him, to peel him out of his tight trousers the way she wanted to. This would have to do. He moaned beneath her as she finally freed him from his confinement, and without grace or hesitation - took the whole of him into her mouth. 

In response, he grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her down against his lips. Locking her tight against him, he groaned and pushed his tongue into her. The taste of her was technicolour.  He worked as quickly as he could to relieve the tight, coiling need which was squeezing the life out of them, but not quickly enough. 

The walls had pushed towards them quicker than he anticipated, and it wasn’t long until he felt the hard force of it suddenly pressing against his feet. 

Elltavia must have become aware at the same time he did, because her mouth was suddenly off him and she rolled away, completely disentangling them and stopping the movement of the walls. 

They were both slick with sweat, and with each other. 

“Get over to the far end. Now.” He snapped at her. The narrowing of the walls had now turned the large, circular room into a slim corridor. It would only take a couple more metres of movement and they would be crushed to dust. 

“Do not bark orders at me!” She retorted with a hiss. “That is really not helping the situation!” She retreated as far away as him as possible, pressed her thighs together, and put her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear his heavy, laboured breathing.

The hour may as well have been a day. They faced away from each other, breaths heavy and skin slick with sweat. They had both tried to cover themselves back up with what little material had not been ripped. At this moment the threat of being crushed by the weight of an ancient temple wall seemed inconsequential compared to the overwhelming intensity of this moment. Gale thought that If this were to be his end, he would welcome it with open arms. At one point in his life, he had resigned himself to the fact he would die alone at the order of a pitiless Goddess. What a privilege it would be then, to die in the arms of a merciful one. In the arms of Elltavia Kidd’Alka. 

He thought of her as he faced the wall. He thought of her in every way except the one which had pushed its way to the front of his mind and coursed its way through his blood. He thought of her fierce loyalty to her home, how she had travelled far and risked her life. How she was blunt and forthcoming and how she refused to dull any of her bladed wit. He thought of the shimmering seasons of her eyes, of how long it must take her to braid her hair, how she has the wisdom of an elder and the bright laugh of a child. He thought of how much he wanted her to live, and how much he wanted to see her again. And suddenly, the urge simmered - it was there, but it no longer suffocated him. He could breathe. His lust had been mixed with something else, and the sweet combination had strengthened his resolve. He could do this. 

Elltavia thought of the forest. Of her home. Of the children who fell out of trees and laughed in the dirt that caught them. Of the people who had spent their lives telling stories and weaving tradition through play and prayer. Of the mothers who had fletched arrows with babes at their breast. She remembered the first time she summoned an animal, and how the swift spring bird had flitted between branches and sunbeams to settle upon her shoulder. She remembered the poor autumn fox which she had found dead from the spreading curse. She would beat this. She would return home, and she would show Gale the place they had saved together. Her blood cooled, her resolve steeled. She could do this. 

An hour passed in silence. The two of them focused and determined. Two people who ached enough to not touch each other. And it worked.

Suddenly, it was as though they had emerged from holding their breath in ice water. The walls rumbled and slowly retreated back to their stations. 

“Is it over?” Elltavia spoke quietly, too nervous to turn round or remove her hands from her ears. Her answer came when a strong, comforting hand placed itself on her shoulder and she didn’t burn from the touch. She let Gale turn her, and take the hands from her ears to kiss them. 

“Not for me'' He said gently, stroking her cheek and tucking a braid behind her ear.  Before he could kiss her properly, without magical kindling feeding his flame for her, the book reappeared. It fluttered once more, and settled on its final page.

“Is it safe?”

“I think so” He said, more calmly than he felt. “We passed the test.”

He made his way to where the soft glow welcomed him to read, and spoke the book’s final inscription aloud…

Behold, two souls of spirit true Live long - old magic rests in you. 

“If this is some bullshit about how the power was inside us all along, I'm going to be really annoyed.” Elltavia was still breathless, but relieved.

“Maybe…” He said thoughtfully, but from the book and the murals and tenacity of the ancient magic, Gale didn’t believe that was the case. There must be the mentioned ‘reward’ somewhere… But, he was not interested. Godly gifts he could live without. There were other things more worthy of his attention now. Other desires to fulfill. 

“What do we do about the book?” she asked, closing it and running her finger over the cover. “Will you take it to the Academy?”

“No. This belongs here. It’s as much a part of the forest as you are.” He turned to look at her, her bright eyes fierce, “You know what lies here now, you can tell your community - you can spread the story and let them become guardians of magic and knowledge. And this can stay here… closed.”

He bent down and kissed her, soft but purposeful. Full of the promise of things to come.

“You know, Kidd. Before you dropped by my lecture I was reading about this amulet…”

She entwined her fingers with his as they made their way back into the lush greenery of her vibrant forest home. “Sounds interesting professor, I take it the next adventure would also require you to bring along your whip?” 

“Oh, most definitely. I could give you another demonstration now if you’d like?”

Her bright laugh echoed through the trees as they walked into the distance, unaware of the ancient gift bestowed upon them by the temple in the forest. Perhaps one day, Gale would notice his hair wasn't greying as quickly, or that the furrows between his eyes no longer deepened despite the endless days of laughter shared with Elltavia. Maybe then, they would realise they had been chosen as timeless protectors: the wizard destined to safeguard the magic he once sought to consume, and the ranger courageous enough to save her homeland.

[ripeteeth]

Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

Thanks, @danpuff-ao3! You’re always a treat to see on the dash and I hope you’ve been having a lovely break <3.

I’m always a bit awkward with these, both from an itching sort of discomfort with staring my own artwork in the face, and I think from a lifetime habit of denying compliments out of a feeling of guilt or fear. So! I’ve had a glass of wine (and an edible) and I’m going to try to kinder to myself. I might be in the mood to talk right now. (Honestly, that’s a good sign. One of the big elements of my recent writer’s block has been an inability to express myself in any written way, even tumblr posts and comments. Maybe this is why I hit twitter so hard.)

My five favorite fics. Not my five best fics. Not my five most popular fics. My favorites. Hmm.

5. blood, bones, and butter | MDZS/The Untamed] SongXueXiao | E, 12,443

“A relationship, deconstructed. Served three ways.”

Ah, Yi City, that deliciously painful Shakespearean tragedy echoing Wangxian’s romance. The specific notes of obsession, revenge, love, and grief that run through these three make me completely unhinged. I love the quiet service and stoic devotion of Song Lan, the otherworldliness and power of Xiao Xingchen, the unchecked brilliance and cruelty that fill up Xue Yang. The Yi City fandom is easily one of the most incredible fandoms I’ve ever been a part of, full of uniquely talented and deranged writers and artists who love to really explore the dark edges and nitty-gritty of these character and let them be their fucked-up selves. The appeal of SongXueXiao isn’t to make it better for them, it’s to see how much you can make it worse.

It’s two pretty classic tropes: a first time after meeting at a bar, and also a story told from alternating POVs. I really wanted to focus on trying to carve out distinctive interiorities, like their motivations, their assumptions, their fears, their memories, and allow the reader to draw their own conclusions without spelling these all out outright. I’d recently rewatched Rashomon, and I love how the understanding of an event can be so differently shaped by each person’s POV and I wanted to show their first night together in that way, moving the lens over the night a few times, before it gets clear. It was a really fun process to focus on and I think it’s one of my best pieces of recent writing.

4. in search of the wind | Good Omens | Crowley/Aziraphale | E, 27,112

After the World Doesn't End, Aziraphale is not returned to his body. Crowley tries to find a way to get to Heaven's fast-shut gates. Aziraphale tries to find his way back from the sky (and back in time).

I remember writing this almost immediately after the show aired, in that heady summer of 2019, when I feel head over sweaty heels for that charming demon and his delicious epicure of an angel. This is essentially how I saw canon going on, this is the headcanon of my soul. Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen season 2 yet? It was a pleasure to write, almost like knitting together different scenes, different pieces of history, like an extended version of the s1s3 cold open. It’s Aziraphale without a body, unmoored in time, turning up at different points along his and Crowley’s history, and realizing that his friend is in love with him. That his friend is heartrendingly in love with him. I love stories that play with structure, striking different chords each time.

I couldn’t write this kind of story again. This belongs to a very specific time.

3. White Light, White Heat | Harry Potter | Snape/Harry | E, 32,107

“In 1347, Benedictine monk and scholar Severus Snape goes to fetch a young man joining the abbey. In 1347, rumors come of a strange and unrelenting plague from the east.”

An AU set in a fourteenth-century Benedictine monastery in Britain during the period of the Black Death where the two men develop a bond through a special sort of crucible. Snape, as always, falls in love with all the grace of a cat being given a bath. As dark as the material is, this was a pleasure to write. I had so much fun describing the setting, peppering fun little facts like a Pop Up Video of Medieval History. I wrote this in a fever-fueled three weeks, absolutely obsessed with getting it down exactly as it was in my head. I loved writing the monster theme and using it as almost a leitmotif for Snape. There’s probably a literary term for that. Is there? Anyway.

2. the body as anagram | The Terror | Crozier/Fitzjames, Crozier/Ross] | E, 3090

“In the dark, it doesn't matter which James is in his bed. As long as Ross doesn't speak, the illusion holds true.”

I took the title from a passage on J.G. Ballard’s Crash by Baudrillard in Simulacra and Simulation: “Technology is never grasped except in the (automobile) accident, that is to say in the violence done to technology itself and in the violence done to the body. It is the same: any shock, any blow, any impact, all the metallurgy of the accident can be read in the semiurgy of the body — neither an anatomy nor a physiology, but a semiurgy of contusions, scars, mutilations, wounds that are so many new sexual organs opened on the body. In this way, gathering the body as labor in the order of production is opposed to the dispersion of the body as anagram in the order of mutilation.”

There’s something a bit haunting about the parallels of the two men who held the intimacy of Francis Crozier’s friendship. The name. The confidence. The bravery. The charming manner and handsome face. I love the idea of a Francis who sails out pining for one man and returns home loving another, switching between true love and placeholder. And I’m notoriously a slut for both proxyfucking and Gremlin!Francis, who just can’t stop pressing on the wound of his grief. It’s not the drink but it may as well be, for all this is good for either he or Ross, but Francis is a fool in love with a dead man and he does what he does to get by.

Something about this came together, from concept to finish, in a way I’m quite happy with. It was fun to play with concepts and free associate from them, focusing less on plot, but more on the vast empty grief in Francis’ chest. Everyone here knows this is a bad idea. No one is having a good time.

1. Revachol Calling | Disco Elysium | Karry/Kim | E, 35,321 [WIP]

“Somewhere in Jamrock, a church burns. A study in Kim Kitsuragi.”

Sometimes you just feel the next part of the story in your bones. When I first played Disco Elysium in 2021 it hit me in an incredibly familiar, emotional way. There’s something somber and hopeful about it. The writing is sardonic, dark and humorous. It’s nearly cynical but it’s cynical with a sad old smile, because cynicism is born through disappointment, and through not quite being ready to give up. I think we can all find ourselves in it, in one way or another and, like many, I’m hopelessly in love with Kim Kitsuragi, a wild creature who’s built himself within thousands of rules. I can’t play the game without craving his side of the story, his interiority, his history, so I grab at the little crystals of information, such as his secret love of Speedfreaks FM and his past with Eyes, and I try to imagine it might go. This is my sequel to the game and, more than anything, this is my love song to Revachol, a character of a city, and one that echoes vastly in all those of post-Communist country and family.

For some reason, this fic is extremely visual for me and usually in a Wong Kar-Wai sort of fashion. Think the saturated aquamarines of a neon diner sign. Think a studio apartment with cheap wallpaper and the yellow-orange flicker of sodium lights. It comes alive at night, when Kim is left alone with his thoughts, running out of rules to keep him safely in. I love that Disco Elysium has such a vast world to explore. It’s an endless playbox.

And this is also, in a way, a bit of an elegy to a belief I’d once held in a motherland, and do not anymore.

I’m almost done with Chapter 8, so hopefully it will be up soon <3

Tagging! @jaggededges123 @soft-october-night @wildcard47 @rcmclachlan @brawlite @zaxal @pearwaldorf @kiingbooooo @darcylindbergh @et-in-arkadia @itsevidentvery @iodhadh @iamwestiec @mia-ugly @laurashapiro-noreally @pinehutch and anyone else who wishes to!

[sapphicdib]

you told us your headcanons about lilypad, what about apple juice?

yall are just spoiling me at this point LMFAO new unskippable cutscene incoming

My favorite thing about apple juice is the potential cultural differences between the two! Hunter being raised by an iterator while Monk was raised by slugcats probably leads to them having some pretty big culture shock moments. One of the main differences between them being the interpretation of the cycles by the two of them. Hunter knows about the whole “waking right back up again” thing, and sees ascension as a morally neutral/good thing, while Monk is similar to Gourmand in the fact she is content in the cycles. That’s also why Hunter doesn’t mind killing as much. She knows it’ll wake up in a new cycle. And not to mention, she probably kinda has a slight superiority complex over “lower creatures”, because of Sig’s biases. Not saying Sig is like, cruel to lower life forms, but like, a squidcada’s brain is the size of a bubble seed, who cares? Whereas Monk sees all creatures of the world as valuable, so she’s kinda horrified by how cruel Hunter can get even when she’s not in mortal danger.

On a lighter note, Hunter never had the opportunity to be groomed as a slugpup! As good as a parent as Sig is, she unfortunately does not have a tongue. The first time Monk cleans Hunter she passes the fuck out and has the best sleep of her damn life from being so soothed.

Another thing I like is when Monk is the more emotionally mature of the two. Hunter is very young when she is sent out on her mission, and in my fic I’m writing, she’s actually younger than Monk because I shuffled the timeline around a bit. Being raised by No Significant “hides its emotions for the sake of others” Harassment, it’s probably hard for her to deal with big emotions. She starts out very cold and standoffish to Monk, because she doesn’t want to “hurt her” when she dies, but of course she eventually warms up to her.

I also think Hunter is actually pretty goofy and silly when it comes to things that aren’t her mission. She kinda acts like a mini-Sig in some ways, and Monk just sighs dreamily while Hunter is talking about how “cracked” she is for “360 no-scoping” a lizard. Girlie has no fucking clue what that shit means, but Hunter is happy and she likes her smile.

Have something cute from my fic <3 hehe

[neb-art-zeke]

hiiiiii! Please tell us more about Relonoth if you don't mind 👀

How old is he?

What is his DnD alignment?

What's his tent in the camp like?

Does he have a partner(s)?

Hey @razrogue! Thanks for your interest in my TAV!

So fore warning, I'm not as knowledgeable about the larger DnD/Forgotten Realms lore and I've never played the previous Baldur's Gates so a lot of my knowledge comes from just playing Baldur's Gate 3. Also like many of my OCs, he goes through constant change as my knowledge of the lore expands and new ideas in my mind surface. With that being said:

Background: Relonoth is the son of a Seldarine Drow father and a Human Druid Mother. Relonoth lived with his mother and father in his mother's tribe for the first 12 years of his life where he learned the basics of living in the wild before she was killed fighting alongside his father during an attempt of his father’s life by Lolth's Drow. Not wanting to endanger the tribe further, Relonoth's father would take him far away from the tribe where they traveled aimlessly for several months. One day, they managed to stumble upon some helpful monks who were on their way back to their monastery. Sensing the torment inside both Relonoth and his father, the monks invited the two to journey with them back to the monastery to find inner peace. Relonoth and his father spent 7 years learning the ways of the monks and spent one more year traveling with each other after before deciding to continue on separate journeys. Before departing, they promised each other they would reunite for a single week at the place they left every 7 years to share with each other their monastic journeys. BG3 takes place 2 years before another reunion. Some of Relonoth’s experiences and adventures include finding his mother's old tribe, fighting in an underground martial arts tournament, mentoring other young monks, learning the way of the four elements from ancient beings, and putting stops to deadly conspiracies, but his greatest adventure takes place during BG3.

Name Origin: I found a Drow etymology naming convention sheet online and the name roughly translates to "Wind's Path" which I thought sounded cool. The in-lore reason I developed after was that his father named him that name because he wanted his son to have the freedom to become anyone he wanted in his life (Free like the Wind).

Age: 67 (as of BG3 - looks about 33 because of half elf aging)

DnD Aligment: Neutral Good (as a nomadic monk, he'll find himself helping the less fortunate and oppressed and generally respects the rules of the lands he comes across but still has his principles of freedom and choice which sometimes clash with more strict rules of some kingdoms. His nature of helping people and quickly disappearing in a gust of wind after earned him the title of The Wind Walker.)

Tent: His tent is very simple. Being nomadic, he likes to carry light but he's known to collect a few things from his travels and keeps them in his tent space (i.e. small gifts from his friends, rocks and feathers of birds from the different lands he visits and small things he thinks his father would like to see during their next reunion)

Romance: Karlach (I like to imagine that after finding a solution to her infernal engine problem, the two escape Avernus and continue traveling the world with Karlach wanting to experience the grander world after spending years in Avernus and Relonoth wanting to continue his monastic journey with one he loves. She even gets to meet Relonoth's father during the reunion. Really want to get a comic commission of this lol.

[xiaolin-show-hoe]

Here is Prompt 3: Cracked Glass

--

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Jack Spicer was indeed a sight to behold. A 25 year old male, lean and weak, was now smashing a car window with a bat with a force to be reckoned with. The sound of smashing glass scattered across a parking garage yet was somewhat soundless if no one was there to hear it.

A breathtaking swing like a pro golfer had Jack Spicer puting the side mirrors under some cars farther down the slope towards darkness. The only thing bright in this dark place was the smile lighting up the man's face as he took another stroke sending the second mirror in the opposite direction.

It was a true work of joy to see.

The young man had a sucker in his mouth, chomping at it aggravated as he raised the bat from before to damage the windshield. The sickening crack was similar to dropping ones phone. Gut wrenching and the sound alone could split a heart in two. 

Jack Spicer hoped Jared Pulinsky could feel this pain.

His newly ex boyfriend Jared who just put out pictures of Jack that he found rather fucking rude to exploit after their relationship crashed and burned.

Fucking Jareds. 

I feel Jack on this one, Jareds can secretly be some real b-holes. 

So after Jack broke up with him over some weird money issues involving money getting taken from his wallet without asking, that buck tooth, dimwitted brunette of a trucker decided to send out some of their naughty pictures. Which is why every single hit to the truck that Jared treasured made Jack more horny than he had ever been.

After he had smashed the glass, Jack pulled out his special key he made specifically to screw this truck over. A long strong key that would be impossible to fix after he scratched through. This time he took some liberties and doodled some things through that paint job that Jack gifted to Jared. 

Cars occasionally drove through the garage and asked him what he was doing. He always answered honestly because there was nothing more satisfying then someone agreeing with him and giving their blessing to fuck up his exe's car.

Ah sweet validation.

Oh but he wasn't quite done. Oh no no, he also paid for the inside to get reupholstered. 

Jared couldn't have anything that nice on his own paycheck, surely it would be awkward to drive around in the car your ex got work done for.

Jack Spicer would be EVER SO kind and make sure it wasn't recognizable after he was done with the Golden Tiger Claw ripping into the seams of the seats. ANYTHING to make JARED more comfortable in his BRAND NEW truck.

Lastly, to put the finishing touches took out a knife and slashed the tires with all the force his thin body could do. It was tough work but hearing that sweet hiss of air and knowing his ex wouldn't be able to drive to work was just plain exciting.

And finally, the piece de resistance, stealing the catalytic converter from the underbelly of the truck. That way if he wanted to sell this new piece of shit, he would get barely a dime without the most expensive piece. After all, this piece of shit was paid for by Jack, he at least deserved the best spare part to sell for himself. 

Hmmm…maybe he could take the engine too….

Nah, Jack did more than enough to get out the message not to fuck with him, literally or figuratively.

Jack Spicer had gone soft while with Jared. He felt more love and attention from Jared than his parents ever gave him. Hell, the only person who ever lived with him longer than a month at a time was his grandma.

So this betrayal, despite dating for only 4 months, was a deep wound for him. Jack had been used and he was sick of always being the victim of these manipulative games.

They were never games to him.

It was time for Jack to start anew and it would start with this fucking truck. 

--

This last prompt for Cracked Glass is about Jack finally trying to stand up for himself once his boyfriend hurt him. However, Jack had disappeared from the monks and Heylin's lives for years at this point. So when a wu turns up one year later, they don't expect Jack nor the strange robot he sends. He leaves a message behind, "I'm done playing games."

Please feel free to check the other two prompts and answer the poll on my page♡☆

[scrufflesksunnide]

I don't know what I'm doing at this hour asking stupid questions (In my country it's very late but it doesn't matter xD).

But it crossed my mind, how did ArtiMonk infect your mind? What is the story for that ship to emerge and be so important to you? I would apply for reversal but today it goes to artimonk.

Last question: Why is artimonk contagious :3?

Have a nice day or night :3!

Boy this is gonna be a long one:

I think it had to do with a request i did a LOOOOOONG while ago. Like my early early phases of Tumblr

At first I just thought the dynamic was cute sounding

Then months later I started thinking about saintmonk and artisaint

And honestly, both are just okay ships to me, will admit divorce in the shipping community kinda just leaves a bad taste in my mouth due to how people handle it. People can handle it actually really good and in a sense to where it doesn't feel like they added it in cuz it's quirky or cute. Point is I thought of those two ships because i really REALLY wanted a ship for Monk since it ain't fair that the other brother gets a babe/man

That was my mindset at the time anyway.

So in the old old relationship chart I had, I made monk have a crush on saint but saint doesn't have the same feelings, and in a scrapped idea I had Arti also have a crush but was actually rejected. Then I had a joke in my head about Arti and Monk dating each other after both got dumped by saint, not due to being petty over it but because they don't have anyone else to love

Artimonk in echos of time was a shitpost... But just like how Survnot was ALSO a shitpost, you can kinda see I grew fond of the idea overtime and it became less of a joke.

Although they are very platonic in the au

I still have a soft spot for Artimonk due to me liking more out there ships but also there's so much more you can find in those two and not just pass off as "just another artisaint"

That and how I characterize Monk being a young adult being belittled and passed off as "just a kid" is really inspired by both how the fandom tends to shove down your throat that "monk is a kid in canon" (correction: USED to shove down your throat. I don't see it as much anymore which honestly, good lmao. This is not to say Kid Monk is BAD, people can have their own ways of viewing the scugs that's perfectly fine! My mine issue was people forcing their beliefs onto others.)

And also how I got belittled sometimes just by my age and people passing off my opinion and how I felt because of it.

Then there's Arti who is more mature, been through a lot, and sees Monk as not a kid but as someone with potential and respects. I like that dynamic of Monk being a guy who wants people to show him respect and have people be proud of him, and Arti be the guy who shows a lot of respect even if not vocal about it and sees a lot of potential in them.

In short, Artimonk is pretty cool like that.

I like how Survnot, Artimonk, Rivsaint, and Spearhunter were inspired by either spite, personal struggle, or something we have in our life. I think that's what I love about ships in this community, they can mean something personal to the people making content for it, of course they don't HAVE to, but you get to see a bit of a person through the ships they make content for and i think that's cool.

That's also why people can get infected by the ship virus due to how people write and make their dynamic between the parties involved in the ship, sometimes it's relatable, sometimes it reaches a desire, etc.

But overall that's enough of that for now, hope this answers the questions!

[highfantasy-soul]

NATLA - Episode 1: Aang (2/4)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

An explanation of what I'm doing here and my history with ATLA. Of course, full spoilers ahead. <previous/next>

A core theme is introduced right off with Gyatzo talking to the council about how young Aang is: He makes the point that Aang doesn't even know who he is yet, and if he's going to have all this power, it's important that he knows who he is before everyone starts telling him who he should be.

We see this come up with the various incarnations of the Avatar telling Aang what they had to be, with the leaders at the Northern Water Tribe expecting him to lead the assault for them, etc

And we see the toll this takes on other children who are forced into expectations before they solidify who they are - namely Zuko, Aang's mirror in the series

The concept that power without understanding core moral foundations is again, seen through the series as children are forced to bear the burden of the war - we see it with Jet, Sokka, Azula, Zuko, etc

They are who they are because their identity was formed by the war, not a safe environment where they could grow and learn in a healthy manner - this is what Gyatzo doesn't want to deprive Aang of - especially since the power of the Avatar can easily overcome the individual core of a person (as we see in the very final battle of the animated series) - Aang needs to be strong in who he is or else the Avatar power could overwhelm him.

On a side note, I think this is why I struggled with Korra so much - her entire identity was being the Avatar - she had no other character purpose. All her self-worth was tied up in being the most powerful, the most influential, the most popular and that all stemmed (I believe) from her finding out she was the Avatar at like, 3 years old. It warped her sense of self so innately that, I believe, it turned her into a really, really bad Avatar

We see Aang verbalize his intentions: he doesn't want power, he doesn't want to be special, he just wants to have fun, hang out with his friends, and be a kid - he's a free spirit.

This carries over from the animated series (and later scenes) with Aang just running off to join other kids playing, pretending he's just like them and not special at all - he never invokes his Avatar status to be over the other children - he just wants to play.

Honestly, I like monologues - characters telling someone else exactly what they're feeling/why they're doing things - they're some of my favorite parts of the Daredevil tv show and who can forget Sam's monologue to Frodo in The Two Towers? - so I love Aang pouring out his fears to Appa. I love his little quip about 'The monks won't even trust me to feed the baby bison, how am I supposed to save the world?' - it really shows the stakes Aang used to have, and the stakes that are now forced on him.

Aang's reason for leaving the temple is slightly altered from the cartoon, but I think the effects on him remain the same: He jumped on Appa because he was afraid and he wanted to clear his head, but he did fly off pretty far - far enough that he didn’t even realize the temple was being attacked. Maybe he was just headed to a surrounding island to cruise around before heading back, but the end result is the same: he wasn't there because he was afraid and looking for some level of escape, so he couldn't help defend the temple against the fire nation.

He does deny his responsibility as the Avatar, but I do think something is lost in that Aang didn't make the conscious decision to fully run away from the role of Avatar, specifically, but his guilt at leaving remains because of the effect it had - guilt that is a constant for him through the animated series as well. (also, a 12 year old running away from home is pretty common and they come back like, the same day, so even if teh animated Aang doesn't realize it at the time, it's likely he would have gone back quickly just to be surrounded by people who cared about his well being - even though that would be all over the world during his training)

Aang is constantly emotionally hurt by the fact that he wasn't there to help the Air Nomads, nor the people of the world for 100 years and how long he intended to stay away when he flew off on Appa doesn't really change that.

Bookending the episode with the Air Nomads - first when they're flourishing, then after the genocide, was a great way to hammer home those stakes: the fire nation isn't just a looming threat, they've already accomplished so much violence and oppression.

I already posted a bit about why I specifically loved the live action starting off with the Air Nomads before the genocide, so here it is if you wanted to read it.

[ick25]

LMK Season 4 Changes.

I can’t escape these dang spoilers on Twitter so I might as well get something I noticed out of the way. I don’t know how many episodes are out, but I’ve seen clips with and without subtitles, and this is what I noticed... also, SPOILER ALERT!

Apparently the season seems to be about the many mistakes Wukong did in the past, and some weird magical artifact wont let him forget. I realized since season 3 that the “Journey to the West” in this version is very different to the books, I like a good retelling of the Monkey King’s adventures (Specially since I’m doing a comic series based on it), but Wukong’s backstory in this show feels relatively new to events of the present/future, as in, first they made it look like they were following the original story, and retelling some events in the show, but now they seem to be going in a different direction. Let’s start by talking about everyone’s favorite ship, Shadow Peach.

The Six eared Macaque.

In an episode from season 2 a disguised Macaque tells a story about a hero and a warrior, a story about Wukong and Macaque’s relationship. This story says that Macaque and Wukong were good friends way back before Wukong disrupted Heaven, but in the book, Wukong acts like he never knew about Macaque’s existence along with the other two magical monkeys, yes, there are two more, but they don’t matter anyway.

The Six eared Macaque is best known as the evil version of Wukong, the imposter who tried to take Wukong’s place as the monkey king and take over Tripitaka’s mission to get the sacred scrolls to have all the glory. He is also known as Shadow Wukong because he represents Wukong’s past self, everything he left behind to become a Buddhist monk, so killing Macaque in the story represents him destroying his dark side.

The reason he has six ears is because he is based on a Buddhist saying: “The Dharma must not be transmitted to the sixth ear.” The sixth ear representing a third pair of ears listening on a conversation, in other words, Macaque is a super eavesdropper. 

Since we know nothing about Macaque’s personality or motivation in the books, it is easy to make up a story about him, like maybe he did it out of envy, maybe he was an old friend Wukong forgot about and Macaque resented him for that, who knows? Some sources seem to mention him as a sworn brother from Wukong’s day as a young demon, hence why Macaque knows each one of his abilities, however, it could also be because of Macaque listening on to Wukong’s conversations with others, like when he was learning his techniques, how to be immortal, and even the way he screams in pain whenever Tripitaka uses the migraine spell on him. 

That is all I have to say about him, but If you want to know more about Macaque’s origin, here is a link to a website I found.

https://journeytothewestresearch.com/2020/11/04/origin-of-the-six-eared-macaque-and-the-characters-influence-on-black-myth-wukong/

If you want me to talk about the other “sworn brothers” of Wukong, as well as other things about Journey to the West, or even my comic, leave me a comment.

[atla-genderbender]

ATLA Gender Bender: "Aangi"

Aang -> Aangi

I have wondered where the name "Aang" originates from. It might actually be derived from the real name "Aangi". In any case, "Aangi" seems like the obvious choice for female Aang's name.

"Aangi" would have probably grown up at the Eastern Air Temple. She may have been frozen in ice while attempting to flee southward from the Eastern Air Temple.

I've been picturing Kiernan Shipka as the voice of "Aangi". Granted, I think Book 1 "Aangi" would sound more like Ikki, but by Book 3 she would sound like 12 year old Jinora.

OUTFITS:

1: Book 1 & 2 outfit

This outfit is designed to match the appearance of young Air nuns, shown in "The Rift".

For her hairstyle, I referred to several images, especially  Erik Törner's "Tibetan girl in Shegar, Tibet" (see: www.flickr.com/photos/eriktorn…). I intended for Aangi's appearance to be symmetrical, and for her hair to be relatively short in Book 1, so that her hair could grow longer during the timeskip between Books 2 and 3. Unlike Ikki and Jinora, I wanted her hair to be tied in pigtails instead of buns. This allows her hair to be more expressive, and to flow freely in the wind. Her pigtails are meant to somewhat resemble the wings of a bird in flight.  I also decided to have her pigtails tied underneath her ears. This is because Aang sometimes wears hats and other garments to hide his arrow. By tying her pigtails under her ears, this allows her hairstyle to be visible even when she has to hide her tattoo under a hat.

2: Book 1 & 2 undergarments

In real life, Buddhist nuns wear the same triple robe as the monks but with two additional layers, making it a "five-fold" robe (see: hayleyssilkroad.wordpress.com/…) These two additional layers are the sankakshika (undergarment, see: ia800908.us.archive.org/35/ite…) and udakasatika (bath robe, see: www.buddhanet.net/e-learning/h…).

The sankakshika "Aangi" wears in Books 1 and 2 is based on the sankakshika shown here: https://discourse.suttacentral.net/t/what-are-the-original-clothes-of-buddhist-nuns-sankacchika-video/23728/9. It extends from the chest to the navel, and is fastened by three brown, circular buttons found underneath the left armpit. Note that this is an undergarment, not a bath robe. She would not wear this while bathing or swimming, but would be seen wearing this during the Guru episode.

This undergarment would be destroyed by "Azulon"'s lightning in the Book 2 finale, forcing "Aangi" to replace it with an undergarment crafted from red Fire Nation cloth.

3: Aangi's Fire Nation disguise

4: Aangi's Fire Nation disguise, without headband

The three stray hairs on her forehead are a feature she shares with "Princess Zuka".

5: Book 3 outfit, with outer robes

Aang's Book 3 appearance is based on the Shaolin monks. As such, his female counterpart's appearance is based on the "Kung Fu Nuns of Nepal". In addition to their website and Facebook page, I referred to this image specifically: https://www.nbcnews.com/id/wbna49859526

"Aangi"'s robes feature the color red for two reasons. First, as an homage to the maroon robes worn by the "Kung Fu Nuns". It also makes sense as an in-universe explanation, as "Aangi" would have fashioned her new clothes during her stay in the Fire Nation, where most cloth is red.

By the end of Season 3, I think her hair would be much longer, and she would resemble a younger Yangchen.

6: Book 3 outfit, without outer robes

During the progress of the final fight with Ozai, "Aangi"s robes would burn away bit by bit, much like Aang's clothes. This costume would be visible in the middle of her fight with Firelord Ozai.

7: Book 3 outfit, Avatar State as seen in the finale

This undergarment replaces "Aangi"'s sankakshika. It provides similar coverage to Toph's bathing suit, and is somewhat similar to Katara's sarashi. This is how "Aangi" would appear by the end of her fight with Firelord Ozai.

8: Comics Aangi

This is a very similar costume to her Book 3 outfit.

Like what I’m doing? Consider leaving me a donation via Ko-Fi.

[abybweisse]

Hey, I've gone through your blog and as a modern day Thelemite I'd like to thank you for the research you did into the history of the use of "do what thou wilt" in occultism, as the philosophy of Thelema doesn't in any way condone what happened to the twins. One of the reasons I admire your Kuro theories is because of the amount of research you do and it really shows. My knowledge of the phrase was only its' Thelemic context so I was worried when I read that scene that it would be misinterpreted

Do what thou wilt... within guidelines

Yeah, Crowley and his pals never would have condoned what happens to the twins in Kuroshitsuji, and I definitely made sure to point that out in one or more of my early posts about it. I'm glad you noticed that. 😊 Thelemic rituals often include sexual activities, but it requires that all participants be willing and adult.

According to Crowley, the best sacrifice -- theoretically -- for summoning would be a young and highly intelligent male virgin who offers himself up for the ritual. He also said that people who self-sacrifice (even if it's just blood-letting, not actually offing themselves) are more likely to get desired results. The cultists in the manga completely turn this on its head by choosing 1. unwilling 2. children 3. of random intelligence... 4. that they defile. 😡 They don't care about their chosen victims... and they definitely don't care about following the rules of Thelema. Crowley would despise people who abuse children. Anyone selected for sacrifice should never be made to even feel like a victim. Of course, most of this was theoretical; Crowley says he was too cowardly to use himself (spill his own blood) for summoning rituals, and that he never made a human sacrifice.

Anyway, as mentioned in one or two more recent posts, Crowley got the idea of Thelema -- and borrowed that phrase -- from a series of books by Rabelais, Gargantua and Pantagruel. I have yet to read them, but it sounds like there's a higher level of hedonism in there.... A pseudo-precursor to Thelema seems to also be based on the story, and they also used that phrase, but it was more like a dinner club... sort of -- the Monks of Medmenham. As I say in my addition to that post, they hired prostitutes and wined and dined with them before doing whatever else they wanted. They also made various (small, symbolic) offerings... but to statues of Pagan gods. Again, this wasn't about defiling and/or killing unwilling participants, particularly not children. In that post, I might not have made it clear, but I will here: though the cultists in the manga seem to be a cross between these two things -- Monks of Medmenham and Thelema -- they are clearly not following the rules of either one. The manga's cultists don't care about child welfare or consent or anything. The Monks of Medmenham and Thelemites, like yourself, would be appalled.

[blackjackkent]

We do get some more chat with Jaheira and Minsc before sleepz though!

"I think you might have made a terrible, terrible mistake. Chasing rumor halfway around the city and back. Crossing the Guild, wading through filth, defying the one creature upon whom your very life depends. All for a madman and his rodent."

"The Absolute threatens thousands - the entire Coast - and still you risked much to help one man. I should berate you, but... I can only say thank you."

"Your reasons were your own, but whether you meant for it or not, your fight is our fight. Both of us. To the very end."

Aw. <3 Jaheira is so fkn great, and look at the big grin Hector gets when she says she's with him to the end:

He really likes both Jaheira and Minsc a LOT to be honest. Jaheira reminds him a little of some of some of the older monks at the monastery (well, older when he was a young man; he was just starting to become one of those older monks himself when the nautiloid hit); she's wise and experienced and does not wear her heart on her sleeve, but she's also very kind, clearly feels things deeply under the surface, and believes strongly in the work that they are doing. And Minsc is... well, Minsc. I think on some level he reminds Hector of Karlach - intense balls-to-the-wall fighter with tremendous energy and a kind heart - and he would clearly put himself between any of them and danger in a heartbeat.

No matter what Jaheira says... it was worth it to help them both.

Amusingly, one of the dialogue options here is "Hm. None of that was a thank you," but like. It literally was? She literally said the words "thank you" two lines ago. XD

Instead, Hector just teases her gently - as I've noticed he's now done several times; it's not entirely characteristic of him, and speaks to the fact that he feels very comfortable with her and the sort of person that she is.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me, Harper," he says with a slight smile.

She laughs, and to his surprise he does hear a hint of a catch in it, a slight tremble that hints of tears. It is honestly rather touching; all of a sudden there is nothing of the frustration that came out earlier in the conversations, none of the sardonic deprecation or fear for the road ahead. She is tired; they have reached the end of the day and Minsc is safe - for all that he should never have been in danger in the first place, she has been worried for him for so many months... and now it is done, and he is safe. He is not another friend she has had to see into the ground.

"Ah," she says ruefully. "Those misty eyes are just age. Yes, I feel myself growing older as we stand here. So... lead the way. We are yours to command."

The message is clear; whatever tangled cocktail of emotions she is feeling at present, it is none of his business and she does not want to talk about it. He can certainly relate to that. But the understanding is between them, all the same.

-----

"Fine lodgings you have found, my friend! Boo is already in negotiations with the guardian spirits of this place. In Baldur's Gate, they are likely to be rat-formed and eager to charge rent. But Boo shall secure safe slumber for all! Now - what do you need of Minsc?"

I love him, your honor.

I also love the mental image this conjures of Boo sitting up guard and judo-chopping any rats that try to crawl out of the sewers.

"I'd like to know a little more about you."

"There is more than a little to know, I think. I am huge!"

Lots of fun back-and-forth to be had here. Annoyingly it's one of those conversations where I can't ask all the questions at once, so I had to reload a number of times to get everything. I'm not going to write all of it out, but some highlights:

He told Hector about Rashemen, described the "telthors, guardian spirits of every root, rock, and tree. Here in the Sleeping Lands, they are silent, but in the far north, they know how to speak still."

Apparently he went back to Rashemen for a while after BG2 (yay, my fic was unintentionally correct XD ); the "Iron Lord" there told him that his dajemma was done and he should work for the lord, but Minsc disagreed because Dynaheir was dead and he felt his dajemma could never be over. The Iron Lord felt disrespected, challenged him to a fight, and lost (obviously), at which point the Council of Witches told him he should probably get out of Dodge.

He did mention Aerie too! Hector commented that he seemed to toss the Wychlaran title around pretty freely between Dynaheir and Jaheira, and he answered: "You suggest that Minsc uses the term lightly? Simply leaps from Dynaheir to Jaheira, with no caring for the custom itself? An unworthy thought - and WRONG! In between there was also Aerie, my second witch. She needed a protector, and Boo suggested that it might as well be Minsc. And when she went her own way, Minsc and Boo set to thinking - there is power in the wychlaran bond. Far too much to be wasted on weeping. To use that power to serve the living does not sully the dead - it honors them." The way this is phrased seems like it could be read to imply that Aerie is also dead, but she is definitely not. However, it does concur with the assumption I made in the previous post, that Aerie basically was doing her own thing with Caden and no longer needed a protector and set Minsc free, more or less.

Hector pointed out, very carefully, that when Minsc described why Jaheira should be his new witch, he seemed to be just describing... friendship. Minsc thought over that for a minute... "Hm. So. Duty, camaraderie, help in troubled times - what I call the bond of a wychlaran, you simply call... friendship? I think I understand your meaning. Then Jaheira is my wychlaran. And so are you! You are my wychlaran! And Wyll is my wychlaran. And Astarion is my wychlaran! And Gale is my wychlaran! And Shadowheart is my wychlaran! And Halsin is my wychlaran! And Karlach is my wychlaran-- or, no, Karlach is a berserker, so... perhaps Minsc is *her* wychlaran? My thanks to you, wychlaran. You have given me much to think on - and should some enemy blow knock it loose again, Boo shall remind me." LOL. Minsc is not a subtle man but I honestly think he's fucking with Hector just a smidge here. (Or at least, to be honest, I hope he is; Minsc knows what a friend is, and his relationships with Dynaheir and Aerie are significant to him on a different level. The BG3 writers are doing fantastic with Minsc for the most part but this line, while funny, doesn't really play well for me exactly.) That said, I think Hector has a point that Minsc latching onto Jaheira specifically this way is him taking her friendship and trying to make it into this other important thing that he is missing, because he doesn't know how to handle being without a witch entirely. (Probably also a BIT of coping mechanism for having been teleported forward in time a hundred years, even though he doesn't actively claim he's bothered by it.)

Hector asked if Minsc knew anything about what deal Roah was striking with the false Jaheira and the Stone Loard; Minsc had no clue, unsurprisingly. Boo then piped up with quite a lot of agitated squeaking, which Minsc interpreted to mean that Boo thought he should open his mind up via the tadpole so that Hector could view his memories and perhaps understand elements that Minsc didn't. Minsc was clearly uncomfortable with the idea, though, and Hector isn't keen to use the worm more than strictly necessary, so he just told Minsc they'd find another way.

Hector asked about Boo and Minsc told Boo to explain himself. Boo squeaked. "Clear enough?" asked Minsc. XD Hector asked a little further and Minsc told roughly the story I was already aware of; he received a head wound from bandits and Boo showed up as he recovered. It is neither clear nor, I think, meant to be whether or not Minsc actually understands him. (Though I'm curious to see whether we are able to Speak With Animals with Boo on my druid playthrough. XD )

He talked a little about his experience getting turned into a statue. (Hector mentioned that Jaheira had told him about it; not sure if I missed a dialogue somewhere or that was supposed to have happened off-screen). He doesn't seem to know much about why it happened; just that he was ambushed while doing "cleanup" work in the city's underbelly and then woke up in the Wide a hundred years later when someone cleared the petrification.

And finally, some longer bits actually worth writing out -

Caden references! He cheerfully told Hector about fighting alongside "the Bhaalspawn" ("Gorion's Ward," etc... he has a NAME, Minsc! XD ) and fighting off evil. Hector, whose only exposure to a Bhaalist is Orin, was kind of skeptical: "How did you come to trust the spawn of such an evil god?" Kind of fun to see how the dialogue dances around making any specific assertions about the past game player character. In this case, Minsc goes off on a tangent: "A curious question. Are a child and his father always alike? Take Minsc! He does not have a clear memory of the face of his father, but he does remember tugging on the thick, red whiskers that sprang from his chin. A beard for the ages! Boo could have nestled there happily through even the harshest of Rashemen winters. Now - look closely at Minsc, and what do you see?" Hector, patiently, grinning in spite of himself: "You don't have a beard." "Correct! There are more whiskers on Boo's tiny face than on the mighty chin of Minsc! If Minsc did not inherit the flaming red hair of his mother, or the bushy red beard of his father, why would the spawn of Bhaal inherit his wickedness." Hector looks kind of impressed. "That's... surprisingly insightful." Minsc grins brightly. "I have many more thoughts about beards to share! I did not know you cared to hear them!"

-----

"I'd like to know your thoughts on our companions."

"You hear that, Boo? Your keen skills of observation have not gone unnoticed! Our friend wishes to consult your wisdom."

Hector blinks a few times rapidly but rolls with it. (Yet again he is quite like Caden in some ways. XD ) "Yes, Boo, I'd love to hear your opinions."

"So small is Boo that he is often mistaken for a pinecone, and many secrets are spoken in h is hearing! He will tell what he knows - but Minsc of course will translate."

Astarion first: "Oh, the pale scoundrel has his charms, it cannot be denied. But my friend, it gives me no pleasure to tell you - Astarion is not what he claims to be. Just last night, Minsc was dressing one of his many heroic wounds in camp when Astarion stumbled upon the scene. I tell you, he grew pale as death itself. He licked his lips and trembled so violently that Minsc thought he might faint on the spot! The truth is painful but undeniable. Astarion... is a coward. How can he fight the battles to come when he grows soft at the first sight of blood?"

[LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "...Just one moment." [MORE SQUEAKING] "You are sure? And you could not have told me this before?" [SQUEAKING] "...Minsc may be mistaken. Boo presents compelling evidence that Astarion may in fact be a vampire."

Hector finds himself once again fighting the urge to grin; this seems to be his default state when dealing with Minsc. "I know. But don't worry, he largely gets by on rats."

"Minsc has met many vampires and never one whose smile did not hide treacherous teeth. But... as you say. It is good that we do not have any friends who could ever be mistaken for a rat, eh Boo? If the sun can bear to look upon Astarion's monstrous face, then so can Minsc and Boo! For now, at least."

(Wonder if he is thinking about Hexxat and their battle with her in the crypts of Athkatla, so many years ago...)

Wyll next: "Ah, the great Blade of Frontiers! A fine name. Minsc has no idea what it means, but it suits young Wyll's air of mystery well. It is good to know the city did not go unprotected while I wore pigeon droppings on the Wide. Jaheira did her part, of course, but she prefers to scowl from the shadows. The city needs a name. A face! Preferably a furry companion, too!" [LOUD SQUEAK FROM BOO]

"He has a companion, all right," Hector says dryly. "Her name is Mizora."

"Mizora. This is... some manner of exotic bird?"

"Close. A cambion, bound to him by an infernal pact."

"What? Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers of whom I heard, is no man to deal with devils!" [SQUEAKING] "Ahhh, Boo speaks sense as ever. There is goodness in Wyll; we have seen it! If there be a devil on his shoulder, then Minsc and Boo will sit astride the other! He will not be long in coming back to himself, I think."

Gale: "I do not wish to speak of the wizard." [SQUEAK] "I could not have said it better myself."

"Gale's great - what's your problem with him?"

"He came to me one night with a little book of mischief, full of words and their meanings. 'Posterior,' he says. 'Can you say posterior?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards!"

Hector, swallowing yet another smile: "Posterior isn't wizard-talk. It's another word for butt."

"It is an inferior word! Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a butt belongs! Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Ah - yes, Gale also owns a cat! A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo!"

"You should give him a break - he's only trying to help."

"Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding!"

And finally, Halsin: "Who is Halsin?"

"The elven druid."

"Oh, the tiny puny elf with leaves in his hair and dirt under his fingernails. His name is Halitosin? How very unfortunate."

"Halsin," says Hector patiently.

"That is what I said."

"You're both giant hulking do-gooders; I thought you'd get along."

"Pah. Minsc saw the druid chasing himself in circles and sniffing his own butt last night! He has spent too long as a wolf and not enough as a man." [LOUD SQUEAKING FROM BOO] "NO, BOO! THE DRUID DID NOT BEAT MINSC AT THE ARM-WRESTLING! IT WAS NOT A FAIR MATCH, AND HE TURNED INTO AN OWLBEAR HALFWAY THROUGH, AND THERE WAS GREASE ON THE TREE STUMP!"

XD

-----

"When our minds mingled, I saw some... strange things."

"Oh? The mind of Minsc is a simple place. Of what strangeness do you speak?"

Narrator: The memories resurface, a lifetime of battles blurring into one. The single constant is Minsc, launching into the fray no matter the foe - be they god, monster, or man. It seems just the barest glimpse of what the man before you has ssen and done, but enough to know that he has no right to still be alive."

"Ah! Wait! That look in your eyes - I know exactly what visions of Minsc you have seen, to cause you such wonder..."

"My pants! Thrice-laced in the Rashemaar style, so that a berserker might split skulls without fear of splitting britches too. They *are* fiendishly complex, but fear not for Minsc! With training, he has learned to master the many little knots."

"Never mind your pants," Hector says firmly. "You've walked between planes, fought gods!"

"Well, as have you, no? Do not forget that when you gaze into Minsc, Minsc also gazes into you! We both fight evil, wherever it is found. The who and where are less important than the hamsters you meet along the way. On this matter of sharing memories - I see no reason for us to worry at one another's worms. If there is more we wish to know, we can simply... ask, no?"

Hector is very okay with this; he does not want to use the tadpole at all if he can help it. "Of course. A warrior speaks their mind, instead of reading others."

"Exactly so! If I must peer into the mind of my enemy, I use an axe. For friends, there is ale. No, my friend. If you fear you have a question that Minsc cannot answer, then you can simply ask Boo!"

I repeat: I love him, your honor.