#This Gets The Maintag.

[fates-theysband]

won't you stay with me, my darling?

FALSE ALARM I AM BACK BABY!!!

anyway uh. this is the thing ive been working on for two damb weeks. anyway herein lies uno reverse cards, getting dunked on by one's work buddies, and a. uh. um. [turns and runs out of the room]

--

The setting sun came as a relief. Fate’s office was quiet for the first time all day–all meetings with management concluded, all calls returned, all profiles received, reviewed, and filed away. The only thing he had left to do was wait for one brief meeting that could very well be hours away. Plenty of time to think, and nothing to interrupt him.

All the better, because while his office may have been quiet (save for the occasional soft rustling of Lady Pawdington adjusting her position on his lap) his mind was not. He was all at once paralyzed with indecision, sick with dread, vibrating with anxiety, and yet giddy with excitement. It was all too much, and he considered fabricating an excuse to leave early, to retire to his quarters and at least agonize about this in a more comfortable setting.

“No,” he murmured under his breath as he recalled what sight awaited him there, resting his forehead against one hand and using the other to gently scratch Lady’s head. He’d worry the velvet right off that little box on his bedside table if he spent another night turning it over in his hands, pondering the right time or if he even should.

Maybe he’d discuss it with someone else once this last meeting was finished. He just had to wait for–

“Uh, Fate?”

The sudden sound snapped him out of his ruminations, and he looked up at the source. A small figure in an oversized robe, with cat ears and gleaming yellow eyes. Spawn #89. Rico Chatte.

“Forgive me,” Fate responded, sitting up straighter in his desk and attempting to compose himself. “I didn’t expect you to arrive quite so early. Let’s go over your conduct for today.”

“Uhhhhh-huh,” they responded, raising an eyebrow suspiciously but pressing no further. “Sure. Let’s hear it.”

He rifled through the stack of profiles he’d left on his desk for this meeting. As usual, the correct ratio of life to death, although, as expected if not appreciated, they’d completely ignored everything else he’d asked of them for this batch. But that wasn’t a cause for termination, and he was in no mood to nettle them for it tonight, so he let it slide. “As I’ve come to expect from you, everything is in order. Nothing else to really say, so, unless you have any questions for me, I believe we can conclude this meeting.”

There was a silence as the two parties stared each other down, Fate silently willing Rico to leave as they seemed to be attempting to puzzle something out. The whole scene put him in mind of the moment right before a duel, that long few seconds before both opponents draw their weapons and attack.

“Okay, spill it. You’re acting weirder than usual. What’s going on?” Rico’s question pierced the silence like a hole punch, and their tone poked just as many holes in what Fate had thought was a perfect facade of nonchalance.

The keeper of world order scoffed dismissively at the feline reaper’s accusation. “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing going on. I’m simply…pondering something. Nothing you need to worry about.” Silently, he cursed himself for the slight hesitation.

“Are you kidding me?” Rico leaned forward, resting one hand on Fate’s desk and regarding him with narrowed eyes and alert ears. “The entire time I’ve worked here, the main thing I have ever needed to worry about is you pondering things. If you are pondering something, I need to know what it is as soon as possible for my own mental health.”

“The dilemma currently troubling me is not one I would consider it appropriate to ask an employee’s advice on,” Fate responded, more sharply than he intended. He cleared his throat, taking a breath to compose himself. “I apologize for the outburst. It’s a…personal matter, is all. Not to worry, I’ll figure it out on my own time. See you tomorrow.”

Rico made no move to leave, although their expression changed from accusatory to confused. “A ‘personal matter’? What, are you and Charlie having relationship issues or something? They make it seem like everything’s fine, but…”

“That is none of your business,” Fate hurriedly cut Rico off before they could say anything further. Of all the people in the Office for his beloved to have as a close friend… “And, actually, it’s quite the opposite,” he added, quietly, glancing aside and feeling his face warm slightly.

“‘Quite the opposite’, huh?” Rico said, looking (appropriately) like the cat that ate the canary. “Thinking of taking a big step?”

There was no denying it now. Fate sighed and turned back to face his subordinate. “If you breathe a word of this, especially to Charlemagne, the consequences will be dire,” he warned.

“Yeah, yeah, my lips are sealed, I’ve kept a lid on juicier stuff than this,” Rico waved away the warning, rolling their eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“Lately I have been wondering if I should…” he paused to swallow, trying not to choke on what came next. “...ask them to marry me.”

The silence descended on the room again, both parties seeming in deep contemplation. The reaper spoke first once again. “Honestly, I think you should go for it.”

The encouragement came as a pleasant surprise. “Is that so?” Fate responded.

“Yeah,” Rico confirmed. “They talk about you like you hung the moon. It drives me nuts. I can’t mention you in conversation around them without hearing about this or that sooooo cute and charming thing you did last time they saw you.”

Fate turned bright red at that revelation. “I…I had no idea they spoke of me that way.”

“They do. Frequently. I’d put a lot of darksouls on them saying yes if you popped the question. And I have.”

“It heartens me to hear that. I appreciate the encouragement. Although I do wish to warn you that office betting pools are against–”

Rico cut him off as they began backing away from his desk toward the door. “Hey, won’t do it again, I think you letting this one slide is a fair trade, I’ll get out of your hair now, go get ‘em, tiger!” They gave a final thumbs up before slipping through the door entirely, closing it behind them and leaving Fate alone in his office.

He glanced down at Lady Pawdington, who was in turn looking curiously up at him, and ran a hand over her head once again. Now if only he could think of a good place…

–

Inventory day at the Emporium was usually a lively occasion, or at least as lively as that dusty old hall could get. But today Charlie wasn’t much in the mood for banter. Too much to think about. Instead they contented themself with the calming rhythm of unpacking and repacking desk widgets, outfits, and visages into storage boxes, only faintly noticing the sounds of their employer softly humming and jotting down names and quantities.

The thoughts were burning a hole in their mind. They were itching to tell someone, but if this somehow got back to him…well, it probably wouldn’t be a disaster, but it’d definitely take the wind out of their sails (heh) to know the surprise was spoiled. And as much as they wanted to tell everyone lest they explode from having to keep their anticipation inside, there was another part that wanted to keep this fully secret, to give nobody else the satisfaction of knowing. All the same, though…a bit of advice would not go amiss. This was not something they could afford to mess up.

They decided to chance it. “Hey, Mortimer?” they asked, glancing over at the skeletal pirate sitting a few paces away. “Can I ask you kind of a weird question?”

“I’d be disappointed if ye were to ask me a normal one!” Mortimer quipped in response. “Fire away.”

“So, you’re pretty worldly, right? Lot of life experience? Probably have seen just about everything?” Charlie began, twisting in their seat so the two were facing each other.

Mortimer buffed their nails (or where their nails would be, if they still had flesh) on their shirt in mock dismissiveness. “Not to toot me own horn, of course, but aye, you could say ol’ Mortimer’s weathered just about every storm there is.”

“Good, good. I’ve got a little hypothetical for you,” Charlie continued, entwining their fingers and resting their chin on them. “So, let’s say, for the sake of argument, you have this friend. And your friend has been…courting someone for a long time.”

“Aye,” Mortimer responded, sitting forward on their stool. “Don’t suppose me friend and their love interest correspond to anybody I’d know in real life, do they?” Skeletons weren’t the most expressive bunch, and yet it was somehow clear they were smirking knowingly.

“You can think that, if it helps you contextualize it,” Charlie responded with a shrug. “The point is, your friend comes to you one day with a dilemma. They would like to propose to their beloved, but they aren’t sure about a few things.”

“Well,” Mortimer put a hand to their chin in thought. “I’ve received me fair share of marriage proposals, and given a few of ‘em, so I’m happy to give ye–er, sorry, this hypothetical friend yer askin’ on behalf of –some nuggets of wisdom.”

“Great! So they’re not overly worried about the possibility of being rejected–it’d hurt for sure, but no need to count their chickens in either direction here. But I don’t–THEY don’t,” Charlie hurriedly corrected themself, “have much experience with this sort of thing. They’ve only really seen it in stories. They don’t really have the time or resources for anything big or showy, but…would it really be enough to just drop to one knee and ask?”

Mortimer seemed to ponder for a moment, before answering, “If I know the captain–and I’d say I do, I did plunder their wardrobe, after all–they’d probably rather ye do that than make a big show of it. I can picture the old sea dog keelin’ over on the spot if ye so much as asked ‘em in public!” They punctuated the statement with a guffaw.

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh in response. “You’re probably right. Wouldn’t be much of an occasion if that happened,” they joked. “I’m just nervous, I guess. You probably understand how it is.”

“Aye, that I do,” Mortimer replied. “But with the way they are around ye…well, I’ve been thinkin’ about what I’d say in me speech at yer reception for a long time.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you,” Charlie said with a shake of the head and a small chuckle. 

“Ol’ Mortimer can always tell which way the wind’s gonna blow,” the quartermaster boasted.

“I guess so.” More quietly, they continued, “You’re not gonna tell anybody, are you?”

“Nay, never,” Mortimer responded. “But I’d better get to hear how they reacted.”

“You’ll be the first to know. Swear to it.”

–

The silence in the top-floor office almost seemed to hum with anticipatory energy. Or, the sole being occupying it mused to himself, perhaps that was just projection, an attempt to reduce the weight on his mind by unfurling it and laying it across the entire room.

He’d made special preparations for tonight–no chance anyone could interrupt, no chance anything could interfere. Just him, his beloved, and the view from his office window–the night sky combined with the lights from Cosmopolis City below looked uniquely stunning tonight. Hopefully it was a romantic enough setting to warrant a proposal–anything else he could think of had felt too contrived, too obvious, too much. 

Fate glanced uneasily from the window to the clock on the wall. Charlie should be arriving any moment now. They’d reacted unexpectedly when he’d asked them to meet him in his office after they finished their shift–they seemed to noticeably relax, as though something had been worrying them and he’d just given them carte blanche to forget it entirely. Then they’d said, “I’ll see you then. Can’t wait,” kissed him, and headed back into the Emporium. That had only been a few hours ago, but it felt so long ago, and the sentiment they’d expressed–can’t wait–was one he shared.

Faintly, from the small entryway just outside his office, he heard the unmistakable ding of the elevator pull him back into the moment. Adjusting the box in his pocket one more time for good measure, he took a deep breath and then strode toward the door.

–

The elevator whirred toward the top of the building, announcing with faint tones every floor it passed. Charlie still retained their floor visibility clearance, despite everything, and they wished more fervently than ever before that they hadn’t. The building was far too tall, the wait far too agonizing. It was by no means uncommon for Fate to ask them to meet him in his office once they finished their shift, but the way he’d carried himself…they’d seen him that nervous exactly once before, and it was when the two of them met for their first date.

The memory brought a smile to their face. He’d been a little late–only by a few minutes, although he’d apologized profusely nonetheless and was clearly distressed that he hadn’t been able to make the exact time. They’d wasted no time forgiving him, their worries that he would stand them up or that they’d misinterpreted his intentions fading away. They could tell whatever worries he’d had were quelled in that moment too, and the only memory of that night they treasured more than the sight of his brow unfurrowing and his lips slowly curling into a subtle smile was the goodbye.

The two of them had been standing in the elevator outside the Emporium, preparing to go their separate ways for the night. Fate was asking, with a level of verbosity typical of one who hadn’t had much experience navigating romance, if they’d like to go out with him again sometime, and Charlie, still giddy about even getting to go out with him this time, had cut him off with an impulsive kiss and a delighted “Yes!!!”

The slight jolt of the elevator halting, followed by the whir of the opening doors, cut off the reminiscing. They patted the ring box in their pocket (logically, they knew it hadn’t gone anywhere, but with how many different trains of thought they had chugging in different directions, it felt important to ensure that they hadn’t forgotten the thing entirely), and made their way toward the door. They knocked once, heard Fate respond “come in” from the other side, and pulled the door open.

There he was, standing on the other side, hands behind his back, wearing a nervous smile. The moonlight shining through the windows illuminated him beautifully, and as he extended his hand to take theirs, Charlie found themself reminded of a romance novel. Two lovers, alone under a beautiful night sky, about to pledge their eternal devotion to one another.

Or, well, they hoped that last part was true and not just wishful thinking.

Fate pressed a kiss to their hand. “Good evening, my love,” he said, in that gentle tone they could only hope he reserved for them alone. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“I could say the same for you,” Charlie replied, feeling their face warm and chuckling shyly. “Nobody better to spend such a beautiful night with. Although…the night sky’s not exactly the most beautiful thing I see right now,” they teased.

It never failed. Fate blushed harder than Charlie had ever seen before and his composure, while not completely gone, was clearly shaken. “Well…it’s interesting that you should mention the night sky,” he murmured, and though his glasses still concealed his eyes it was clear he was having trouble looking at them. “I thought it might create a…a suitable atmosphere.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. Surely he wasn’t also…they asked, “A suitable atmosphere for what?”

“There is…something I need to ask you. Something I have wanted to ask you for quite a long time.” He released their hand and reached into his pocket.

The anticipation was killing them. “And that is?” 

The silence as Fate lowered himself to one knee was as agonizing as it was brief. Charlie watched with a quiet excitement threatening to burst forth prematurely as he revealed what was in his hands: a small velvet box, which he opened to reveal a ring.

“Charlemagne, will you marry me?”

The excitement, no longer premature, burst forth immediately. Through delighted giggles, Charlie answered, “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I just have something to show you. You’re not going to believe this,” and fumbled in their pocket for a moment, pulling out their own ring box. Popping it open, they continued, “Fate, will you marry me?”

The two of them remained like that for a moment, staring at each other, in awe at what had just happened. Fate spoke first. “I…believe we both have our answers, don’t we?” He rose to his feet, and Charlie wasted no time throwing themself into his arms, nearly knocking the both of them to the floor.

“I love you,” they sobbed joyfully, burying their face in his chest and squeezing him tighter, desperate to get as close as they possibly could. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Softly, Fate replied, “And I love you. Eternity is a long time, but I can think of no one better to have by my side throughout it.”

Charlie broke the embrace, pulling back just enough to reach up and pull Fate into a kiss. Eternity may be a long time, but they could happily spend all of it in this moment.

[partyswirl]

sighs

[miiilowo]

the fact the fnaf kid's hair colors in the movie match up with the animatronic they were stuffed into (w the exception of bonnie) feels deeply fucked up cause you just KNOW william did that shit on purpose. like yeah lets make a matching game out of this why not

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Sisyphus ultrakill is easily the hottest man in the game, we know he's intelligent and resourceful (planned the uprising against heaven), charming and charismatic (his troops struggled to fight when he was killed), he figuratively (the man) and literally (prime) lights up a room, also he's a bear

[cupids-carnival]

hi i caught this clip before the tiktok ban so Now i’m sharing it on here because Frankly i think it’s absolutely insane. PrinceZam… When i Catch You. It will Not be pretty…..

transcript:

Zam: Branzy has a cybertruck, he has one. He said, i love— i love the cybertruck, i love the cybertruck, it’s my favorite [..] it’s my favorite car ever, i love it so much. And he has two other cars, and the other ones aren’t very good, yeah.

Zam: And also four wives, yep. Four wives, and he’s in ClownPierce’s prison. And ClownPierce says, “I need to get this man pregnant.” That’s what he says. And Branzy’s just like, “Oh, i love my cybertruck!” That’s what he says.

[falconearring]

Started drawing tattoos on her for fun but now I quite like them. Pearl with a pearl tattoo...

[monsoon-of-art]

kinda weird how Quickman is giving me the most trouble? Did these for some practice. Fun fact, the little boomerang on his helmet are actually fins

[bloodiegawz]

i love having blorbos to project pain onto

[itsonlypolite]

Can we give your voice of the hunted all of the snuggles and head pats? He looks so cuddly

Absolutely!!!

Also some more Hunted interactions with @inkedout's Percy/Paranoid and @forgottensoulsart's Hunted because I love these guys:

[utilitycaster]

I follow someone who peaced out of C3 like a month ago, and while she still throws out the occasional post about it, despite mostly running on ✨vibes✨ since pre-Predathos fight. one of her latest takes caught my attention. The wording was a little messy, but the core argument seemed like it might have a point. She’s saying the biggest issue with the story is a lack of internal logic, which makes the characters feel kind of disconnected from their own world and setting. Her main example was the Schism, like, the general idea that the Titans were bad news for mortals should be widely accepted, and they’re dead so they’re not coming back even if the gods leave. She also argues that the idea that the gods would always choose each other over mortals isn’t really backed up by history. Basically, she thinks Bells Hells ignore some of the fundamental structures of modern religion in Exandria, which in turn makes a lot of their arguments about the gods fall apart.

So I guess I’m wondering does it seem like there’s a lack of internal logic to you? C3 is my first campaign, so I’ve been piecing together older lore as I go, and I can’t tell if this is a niche take or if there’s some bigger context I’m missing.

Yes. Or rather, I have a couple of different guesses as to what happened. In short: I think that either Matt wanted to set up a big dilemma and failed to do the worldbuilding to really support it textually; he didn't have a clear vision of what this would be at all (HUGE fucking mistake, like, actually concerning me re: the potential of a 4th campaign level of mistake and I hope it's not that); or, alternately, and honestly right now my guess is that this was the case, he straight up did not think the characters would be such selfish dickbags and thought going in that this would be a clear "we have to stop Predathos" and intended the familial connections within the Vanguard and the scene in Hearthdell to be added nuance to provide some understanding of the Vanguard not as simply mindless evil monsters but people who have genuine grievances that have been exploited by predatory cult leaders, and was not prepared for a campaign where the party immediately took the Vanguard's side.

Religion in Exandria has never been super formalized or organized. Some of this is, of course, that you don't have to like, convert or even attend services if you have a relationship with a god. But as a result, it means that any exploration of religion as hegemonic falls apart. I am not saying religion needs to fit the regular daily or weekly practices many people irl have (depending on one's levels of observance), and those characters whose powers canonically involve a deity often do observe either restrictions (Caduceus's vegetarianism) or have some form of meditative personal worship, but we never see like, a system of worship outside of Vasselheim, and Vasselheim lacks the powers that the real-world pope has (let alone the medieval era pope). Tuldus was forced by his family to pray, but it's never depicted as part of How All Worshipers of That God are expected to behave. This is really the crux of a lot of problems with this campaign - people keep taking very individualized issues - which are real, but individual - and treating them as a sign of widespread oppression that simply isn't backed up by the text. In fact, the biggest case of widespread religiously-involved oppression is the Empire going after worshipers of illegal Prime Deities (as we see with the Schuesters - the parents are arrested, leaving their young children to fend for themselves) - and the biggest case of widespread proselytizing and missionary work is from the canonically theocratic (and ruled by one person for over a millennium) Kryn Dynasty, which, hilariously, might end up even more powerful given that the Luxon - the source of their religion, their philosophy and cultural practices, and their arcane prowess - has been brought up as relevant to the gods-become-mortal plan by the Raven Queen and seems to not be under any threat from Predathos, and might even get more powerful. Vasselheim's colonial efforts, while certainly not defensible, are small potatoes.

The player character's grievances against the gods all boil down to "I prayed to the gods and they didn't make my life better" while failing to consider that a combination of genuinely wild specific personal circumstances (being Ruidusborn; being the child of an elemental-worship cult with terrible instincts and later running a heist on a Vanguard collaborator; being a shadow sorcerer who caught the eye of an evil Vecna-worshipping wizard in need of a host body) are the root cause. It's like. If your parents kick you out for being gay, that's homophobia, but if your parents are part of a cult that blows itself up and you are orphaned as a result that is not systemic oppression, that is a very specific cult and shitty parents. So that fails to really ground them in the setting. Compare to campaign 2, where Caleb wants to ensure the Volstrucker program is brought to light and eliminated - as he says, no more children on the pyre - vs. here, where arguably Laudna and Ashton are opening the door to far more unregulated cult/evil necromancy shenanigans now entirely unmitigated by the gods. At least Imogen will probably end the Ruidusborn I guess, as a side effect completely unrelated to her actual goals (which are, frankly, unclear) In a campaign that talks about tethers, the characters seem untethered to anything - institution, place, even for the most part family, and only loosely to each other, and it shows in their lack of care.

The other part is that yeah, a lot of things that were given to the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina as "things people would know" aren't given to Bells Hells. Now this could have a mechanical basis, namely, no one has much of a formal education and most of them are also not terribly intelligent on their own. However, it does feel baffling that they can't recognize holy symbols, or don't know the story of the titans at the time of the Schism (which...setting aside the many issues with the concept of "history is written by the victors" which is both inconsistently true in the first place and is frequently used in an anti-intellectual manner to undermine historical study that points out such things as historical racism; just because history might be inaccurate that does not mean that wild speculation otherwise is necessarily true, especially since we do know from EXU Calamity that titans did, indeed, intend to side with the Betrayers against mortals at the start of the Calamity). It furthers this feeling, after Vox Machina being relatively educated even in a story that was not as worldbuilding-focused, and the Mighty Nein having multiple research-oriented characters and a party deeply rooted in a rich world, that Bells Hells feel off and adrift and ignorant, especially since they don't even seem to remember history they lived through such as the Apex War.

Honestly, what I think is most interesting actually is that we don't ever get anyone express a motivation based on structural oppression in-game. Ludinus never got over his parents dying in a war where the options for the Prime Deities were leave mortals to die or fight the Betrayers, knowing there will be devastating casualties, but in setting up his elaborate plot he murdered countless people, destroyed through his communing with Predathos the first rebuilt elven society in Western Wildemount, and participated in actual structural oppression within the Dwendalian empire for literal centuries; he cared not for any widespread liberation and would remain on top, as an archmage, after this imagined revolution, which makes it not much of a revolution worth having. Liliana's problems were caused by Predathos, and many of the Vanguard we see are Ruidusborn. The only other Vanguard we really get to talk to are Bor'Dor, who was oppressed on the basis of his religion and preyed upon by the cult; Tuldus, who see above; and various Paragon's Call members who are mostly just following orders and getting paid. And Bells Hells, when they have the audience of Vasselheim and the rest of the world - a golden opportunity to call out the colonialism - fail to bring up Hearthdell.

In the end, the motivations are all personal pain - in many cases, inflicted, in fact, by Predathos and not the gods - or vengeance. I honestly don't know if the narrative is trying to claim there is something deeper, or if it's simply some of the characters and a chunk of the least knowledgeable fans, but yes, the worldbuilding fails to support a morally complex narrative. It fails to debunk that which was established earlier (and indeed makes the fall of Aeor far more sympathetic than when it was introduced during Campaign 2) and fails to establish any widespread harm the gods did that wasn't the result of someone threatening to kill them. I do not think one can meaningfully debate with someone who puts a boot on your throat, presses down, and claims you're the oppressor when you fight back, nor with someone who argues along those lines, and that's all that fans and Bells Hells have ever done. And yeah we might actually make a world with a formalized hegemonic religion as a result of Bells Hells' actions; it just will be a different god, underscoring that this is either motivated by people who don't know what the fuck is going on; or by vengeance rather than justice.

[startagainaprologue]

i doent like her i dont like her i dont. higurashi odile.

[ssseriema]

thank my oomfs bc theyre the only reason im posting this

[velveteen-vampire]

the grip this au has on my psyche should be assessed by a mental health professional

[drakkonyan]

Turnabout visitor? what are you visiting you BOYFRIEND? checkmate, he's gay, we got him guys

[ph-cutie]

one of those trinket boards but its just vaguely evrart. i wanted him to be in the center but didnt have a good png so i hope The Cube can be forgiven

[feelo-fick]

HELLO!!! :> TRICK OR TREAT!!!!! :DDDD :]

treat?

yeah, treat. this cant be a trick. if it were, then...

(Palettes used: Falling Star // I Don't Even Know What Day It Is (And I Don't Even Know What Your Name Is))

_

WHEN I TELL YOU I PUT SO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS I MEAN IT it was so unnescesary but i NEEDED (ha) to get back at you with some psychic damage like you have to me HUEHAUEHJA these two peices are just me pspsppsing at you DISCUSS WITH ME I MISSED HANGING OUT!!! sSHAKES YOU SHAKES YOU SHAKES YYOU