#gale’s writing

[catghoul31]

so why did vanessa and wade’s relationship fall apart?

so i’ve been thinking on this for a bit, and after watching the first two deadpool movies i 100% understand why some fans are confused by this development. they were so perfect for each other!! what could’ve possibly happened?

i don’t necessarily think their compatibility changed at all, but what i DO know is that trauma can get in the way of even the strongest relationships, and dear GOD has wade been through it… but clearly, him getting turned into a lump of cancer wasn’t enough to drive vanessa away or turn their relationship sour, otherwise they wouldn’t have been ready to start a family by the second film!!

personally, i think the point of no return was when vanessa died. oh, wade would have SO much guilt over this, it doesn’t matter how many people tell him it wasn’t his fault- he should’ve checked to see if he was followed. in his eyes, it was his impulsivity and carelessness inherent to him that got vanessa killed. the moment he gives her a second chance at life, he swears he’ll never let that happen again. so what does he do?

he stops being deadpool. but more than that- he stops being wade. he tries desperately to live the life of a normal human being, one who doesn’t kill for a living, even though he can barely comprehend what that’s even supposed to look like. in the wake of all this, he tries suppressing every aspect of himself that makes people look at him funny- can’t get a job if you’re a horribly scarred bald man making sex jokes all the time, right- and this eventually bleeds into his and vanessa’s personal life.

vanessa fell in love with wade. head over heels in love for everything that made him wade- everything he was desperately trying to shove down. he never gave her any explanations for the changes he suddenly made, that emotional repression habit he’d formed post-mutation rearing its ugly head every time she’d ask, but no matter how hard she pressed- begged wade to let her help- she’d get nothing. she was losing touch with the love of her life, and it was breaking her heart.

after a few too many arguments, it occurs to wade that there was something wrong in his relationship, that something being him. but obviously it had nothing to do with getting rid of all the nastiness within him (aka everything that made wade the person he was), right? he just had to find something to do to give their relationship that spark again! you can see where this is going- he tries and fails to join the avengers, and either way, it doesn’t help anything.

when vanessa finally ends things (as gently as she can, with a “for now” implied in seemingly every word), wade knows he’s to blame, but is still consumed by too much self-hatred and guilt to identify the actual problem. he wanted to be someone else- anyone else- and still chases this goal for six years on end, all the while vanessa is watching from the sidelines, hoping in vain that the wade she knows will eventually come back.

it was never about wade “not having a higher purpose.” when she tells him that he “never came back,” she’s not talking about the fucking avengers, for christ’s sake, but every day that she’s had to spend seeing wade decay from the inside since that one burglary incident so long ago. she can’t understand what it did to wade, since he won’t talk to her!!

she had to end it, because she finally realized that this wasn’t something wade was letting her help him with. they couldn’t get through this together, like they eventually did with his cancer and mutation, and above all, she couldn’t help him. vanessa and the fate she could’ve been subject to was the source of wade’s spiral, so she had to remove herself. but she would never stop caring.

this is why she’s just so happy when wade comes back with logan- because finally, there’s that spark in his eyes again. he doesn’t seem like he’s pretending to be someone else anymore, even in the quieter moments of his life. vanessa knows then that it was always worth it to stick around in his life, even during that dark chapter of it- because behind everything, there was her wade. maybe they wouldn’t get their fairytale ending, and maybe it wasn’t in the same way as it had been for so many years, but she still loved wade so much. and words can’t describe how relieved she was that the wade she knew was back.

and she’d totally be down for a polycule/threesome with wade and logan if they were

[theoldkyokodied]

This bloodweave art dump has it all: The price of devotion, the serenity of simple touches, cat to cat communication and iasip redraws with slightly altered dialogue

[mercury-and-scry]

I'm just Gale

where I see love she sees a snail

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[purrgilpawkins]

Companion Sexuality Headcanons

a/n: I saw people doing some of these and thought I’d share mine. 🥰

Shadowheart

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that she is canonically bi/pan.

Lae’zel

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that she is canonically bi/pan.

Karlach

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that she is canonically bi/pan.

Astarion

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that he is canonically bi/pan.

Gale

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that he is canonically bi/pan.

Wyll

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that he is canonically bi/pan.

Halsin

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that he is canonically bi/pan.

Minthara

Bi/Pan! This is, of course, influenced by the fact that she is canonically bi/pan.

-

omggg thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed ❤️

[gale-dekarios]

can you imagine how wild the whole of gale and tav's romance is from gale's perspective?

you keep secrets. shameful, terrible secrets. youre dying. every step is just a little bit harder than the last. youre a disgrace. if people didnt look at you with disdain, they were looking at you with pity. and youve got nobody to blame but yourself.

every moment, youre expecting the other shoe to drop, for tav to finally say enough -- you wouldn't hold it against them, youre more trouble than youre worth -- but then...?

it doesnt matter what it is. magical item consumption with no reason given. an awkward exit from an imagined kiss shared in the cradle of your ex's palm. revealing you could kill yourself, them, and everybody in a city-wide radius. defending you against one of your most powerful colleagues because he came baring mystra's will. dissauding you at every turn, to stay alive, to ignore a goddess's orders, because they think youre worth the space you take up. loving you ardently, hastily, easily, as though you have anything to offer them back. staying with you as you oscillate between self-destruction and ascension. never once stepping away from your side, even as the stabilised orb burns in your chest, begging to be used, and the crown, almost within reach, taunts you with your wildest dreams.

and that's just it, isnt it? you have the chance to give tav everything they could ever want at last, after so long of being a burden, and they tell you no. they tell you no. i want you.

you, the burden? you, the disgrace?

yes, you.

gale falling in love with tav wasn't like how the great novels describe. there wasnt any one moment that led to a grand realisation. there were no great leaps of faith toward each other.

falling in love with tav was like a warm candlelight and an even warmer hand in an endless void of black.

falling in love with tav was a gentle tug, a smile, and a 'this way.'

how could he not follow?

[rowandekarios]

gale dekarios + text posts that make me think of him <3

[heph]

Elvish

[waterdeepweave]

thinking thoughts about gale bringing his and tav's baby to work when tav has to be away

he straps the baby to his back in a purple sling while he teaches

he introduces them to the class as their "guest pupil"

"and also the only participant i would thank to fall asleep in class."

if the baby coos or gurgles when he asks a question he'll accept it as answer

literally "excellent, young mx dekarios! now, to elaborate on that-"

but mostly the baby just falls asleep tucked in the small of his back, soothed by the timbre of his voice

tara keeps a watchful eye on the baby perched on a lecture podium or a bookshelf

gale marking his students' papers with baby strapped to his chest, occasionally reading it out loud and asking for their opinion

"hm, this student appears to believe that cantrips and spells are the same thing. what do you think?" baby blows a raspberry and gale is like "mmm. i agree"

gale practicing his lectures on the baby but they just fall asleep and he's like "oh come now, it can't possibly be that boring"

(he smiles and melts and tucks them in their crib with their favourite teddy and a kiss on their forehead)

gale reading his books in a rocking chair but now he reads it aloud so baby can listen to it as well

gale sharing his opinions about said book as if baby is another fellow academic (they are)

Idk it's like 4am for me just. Gale and baby

[sky-scribbles]

Thinking about Gale's spellbook.

Not the old one, the one he carried when he was Gale, the Wizard of Waterdeep - a gorgeous, leather-and-silver bound thing that bulged with a lifetime's worth of accumulated knowledge. There were spells in there penned over wine and cheese with Elminster; in a flow state that bordered on the spiritual after a night with Mystra, remembering her instruction, the feel of her soul against his. That spellbook was the testament to his success, the proof that he had excelled beyond the excellent -

And then Mystra cut him off from the Weave, and it all become meaningless.

His own runes, rendered incomprehensible; beautiful spell-glyphs that turned from condensed power and knowledge to worthless pieces of art. He has to start anew, from the ground up - reforging his connection to the Weave without Mystra's guidance (without her, without), relearning schoolboy spells. Humiliatingly easy magic, the kind he used to do like it was breathing, except this time he has to study and work and try and try, Tara urging him on with firm but gentle words.

He learns different spells, now. Mage Armour, Shield, Magic Missile. Not the kind of spells that he'll ever need on a day-to-day basis; spells that'll keep him alive long enough when he makes an exodus to the depths of the Underdark, or the centre of some desert wastes, and goes supernova.

The new spellbook is a plainer thing, small enough to fit in a robe pocket (because extradimensional storage spaces are no longer things he can make with a thought). And then he's snatched by a Nautiloid, and... honestly, he'd swear that the spine just wants to hold onto blood-spatters, no matter how many times he cleans them out. The pages get spotted from all the times he's had to flick them open in driving rain; the corners get creased from being shoved in and out of his robes.

And absolutely nothing can protect it from the unstoppable force of his friends.

Karlach nearly sends the whole thing up in flames one night by gesticulating a bit too wildly. Wyll laughs too hard one night and sprays wine all over Gale's new notes on Abjuration. Scratch picks up the entire thing and runs off with it when Gale's back is foolishly turned, and it's only a stern talking-to from Halsin that saves the whole thing from becoming a chew toy.

Smiley cat faces, doodled on the pages in Yenna's untidy hand. A helpful comment from Karlach on the Fireball page: 'AKA FUCK YEAH LET'S GO!!!!' A few lines of Wyll's perfect handwriting, a memento from a long discussion about how infernal energies could enhance fire magic; a few observations from Shadowheart on warding enchantments. Some terse comments on psionic magic from Lae'zel that Gale finds himself weaving into his Shields, and they do seem to hold up a little better now. (Other hands on his spellbook! Touching the pages he carries close to his heart! The man he was would never have believed it.)

He thinks of them all, as he writes new spells. Counterspell, because nothing will touch them. Spells that will carry his people from danger and shield them from harm. He watches Astarion pace before the fire one night and inscribes Sunbeam with a cold smile of promise to Cazador; he glowers at Mizora over the edge of the pages as he ponders what spells would be best suited to killing a devil.

A wizard's spellbook, Elminster told him once, is a reflection of their soul. Gale of Waterdeep's spellbook was a marvel; perfect and polished and resplendant. Untouched by any hands but his own.

Gale Dekarios's spellbook is battered and beloved, covered on every page with the fingerprints of his friends.

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[catghoul31]

Halo, my ghoul OC (original species!)

The first ghoul I’ve designed using my personal ghoul lore HCs, which I plan to complete at a later date. I ship her with Secondo entirely because it makes me happy, and… I want to redesign her with white fur on her hands and feet instead of red. For now, though, this is what I have done, so oh well!

Ghoul type: Wrath

Gender: Cis woman (she/her)

Sexuality: Demisexual/Biromantic

(Backstory under the cut, CW for gore and murder ghoul shenanigans. Very long!)

Halo is a wrath ghoul, one of nine known ghoul species that descended from the angels that fell from Heaven after Lucifer’s rebellion. These ghouls are the most dangerous to humans, as their society revolves around hunting and killing humans. This can clearly be seen in the wardrobe of royals, which is made from tanned human leather.

Halo was one of these royals before her summoning. Current rulers give Lucifer their consent to transform a ghoul of their choice (usually within their own family) into a ruler when their time has passed, as rulers have unique sets of powers that can only be granted by Him. When a ruler is prepared to retire, they give their preferred successor a task to complete before they ascend in their place. For Halo, her mother Queen Detritus tasked her with seeking out a summoning portal, murdering a human, and returning to Hell with a human heart in her mouth as proof.

As she had extreme confidence in Halo, this task was made to be incredibly easy- most summoning circles are created by foolhardy horror junkies who have no way of keeping ghouls from killing them, much less tethering them to the mortal plane. Without a ritual to tether them, ghouls will return to Hell shortly after being summoned. Needless to say, most humans have no chance of surviving an attack from an average wrath ghoul, much less a well-trained royal ghoul, so she was expected to be back with her task completed almost as soon as she found her first summoning circle.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, her summoners were the grand clergy of Ghost, who had prepared for absolutely anything a freshly summoned ghoul could throw at them.

Halo immediately tried to lunge at the first human she saw, and was instantly met with a spiritual barrier she had no hope of breaking. That doesn’t mean she didn’t try, though, and the Clergy, having never summoned such an aggressive Ghoul before, wondered if they should even bother tethering her. Secondo, ever the impatient one, insisted that he needed his troupe of ghouls summoned as soon as possible, and scoffed at the less experienced summoners who ran screaming upon seeing her terrifying attempt at a brutal attack.

Eventually, the Clergy found it safer to tether her and render her unconscious with Omega’s quintessence while they tried in vain to change Secondo’s mind about keeping this ghoul. Surely, there was no chance at taming such a predatory and violent ghoul as Halo- but Secondo disagreed. To the Clergy’s complete shock, he was able to confuse her into buying into the ministry’s greater plan of worshipping Satan… simply by refusing to react to her gnashing teeth and terrifying claws.

Secondo feared many things, but death simply wasn’t one of them.

Impressed by his resolve and this church’s unexpected devotion to Satan, Halo was eventually freed from solitary confinement when it was proven that she wouldn’t spontaneously attack the other ghouls- though she would only get along with a few of them. Even still, Halo desperately thought of ways to free herself from the tether and discreetly kill a human so she could return to her family and her new monarchy. It was all anyone expected of her, all anyone ever admired about her, and surely her monarchy would be suffering if something bad happened to Queen Detritus while she was trapped here…

It took a very long time for Halo to accept her situation, but among the many things that helped was Pebble, an earth ghoul, teaching her to drum for the ever-successful band project. Frustratingly, none of the ghouls around her could relate to her struggles topside, as most of them were either normal citizens of ghoul societies or complete rogues before their summoning…

Eventually, though, it was Secondo that Halo felt herself become strangely attached to. He, too, felt as though he was only valued for his status as part of the Emeritus bloodline, and felt like no matter how hard he tried, he was but a puppet in the Clergy’s grand plan, to only be given the illusion of success and grandeur before being tossed aside for whoever they preferred to be next. Though their struggles weren’t the exact same, and Halo was still terrified, the idea that even a human could understand her struggles had her questioning whether she truly wanted to return to Hell.

Months after her summoning, Secondo had pondered the idea himself. He’d kept Halo around to prove to the Clergy that he could hold his own in even the worst situations, but now that she was somewhat tamed, he’d wondered if it was cruel to keep a ghoul that seemed far better suited for Hell trapped on the mortal plane. Over time, though, Halo realized that these humans found fulfillment in serving the Dark One just as she did. If the purpose of the ghouls as a whole were to guard Hell and Lucifer himself… perhaps this was how she was meant to serve Him- by freeing humans from God’s tyrranical grasp and showing them the guidance of the morning star.

The moment she learned that the total contentment she felt around her Papa was what love felt like, Halo found that the taste of human flesh was no longer something she wanted more than to stay with him.

…If Secondo wished for her to kill for him, though, all he had to do was say the word.

[thoughtkick]

Sometimes quiet people really do have a lot to say. They’re just being careful about who they open up to.

Susan Gale

[shinynewmemories]

Listen to me Suzanne Collins did not have to give Katniss and Peeta a history before the games. She did NOT have to do that. She could have just had their story begin when Peeta's name was called. She could have had them be total strangers until the moment of the reaping.

Like: "And the boy tribute is... Peeta Mellark!" Katniss: Who's that? Or she could have made them vaguely familiar with each other! Peeta's name is called and Katniss just thinks, Oh, I know that name! He's in my class, actually. Poor boy... Anyway!

Either way, SC could have written the rest of the story exactly the same! I think many authors would have done that! Because if Peeta's purpose in the book was to be Gale's competition, to be one of the 3 corners of a love triangle, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WAY TO DO IT!! But that's NOT how she did it because that's NOT what Peeta is.

And who is he? To Katniss, Peeta's someone who saved her and her family and received nothing in return except a beating. Peeta's someone she has had her eye on but has never worked up the courage to talk to. Peeta's someone she associates with kindness and hope. And all this before the start of the events of the book! Just because WE, the READERS, met Gale before Peeta and immediately felt a connection with him does NOT mean that was Katniss's experience! And that's what SC is trying to tell us!

To dismiss Katniss and Peeta's past as unimportant or inconsequential compared to whatever Katniss and Gale have in the present is to fundamentally misunderstand Katniss as a character and, as a result, condemn oneself to never fully understand the choices she makes in the future.

Suzanne Collins wrote it that way on purpose because she had something to say. And no one will ever be able to convince me that something wasn't "It was always going to be Peeta".

[katnissmellarkkk]

suzanne collins : “so in the epilogue of mockingjay, katniss only refers to her children as the girl and the boy-”

people who read with one eye shut : “BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T LOVE HER KIDS AND WAS FORCED INTO HAVING THEM BY THE EVIL PEETA MELLARK?”

suzanne collins probably : “because i couldn’t decide on two names i liked.”

[meanbossart]

It's so hilarious to see how the DU's two BFFs are horrified by his sudden demise from Bhaal. And then on the background… such an unimpressed Gale looking like he's staring at some artifact other than the DU LOL LOVE IT AND YOU THANKS FOR ART

listen I swear I'm not a Gale hater I just think he's at his most interesting when he doesn't like my guy LOL