#i know the goblins have their statues

[postsfromthedark]

I can't remember- was Sophie's family religious? did they touch on that at all? like, Christian or jewish or Muslim doesn't matter - were they atheist? ik they were anti-vax, and anti-vaxxers tend to be religious or spiritual (not in a bad way, just tend to correlate).

i'd love for Sophie to talk about it - if she was or wasn't, or at least let her explain what religion is to a species that seems to have no concept of Gods - or death as a normal thing.

[bharv]

I chaired an author event last night and one of the writers said she wrote her book because she’s a coach and tutor and a mentor of hers said that having a published book is a way to “demand authority” in professional spaces and I.

It reminded me that there is a very different world of people out there lmao.

[monsterblogging]

"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

[dimension-20-brainrot]

I’m so glad Buddy Dawn is getting to see what real combat looks like. Even if it only lasts through one or two waves of monsters before getting a little dicey, I think it’s incredible.

Imagine the majority of your adventuring experience at this school being Stomping Rats then seeing then most popular kids in school absolutely devastate monsters you’ve never seen before on their reactions. And when they finally attack?

The goblin who is literally in every single extra-curricular and looks one more piece of bad news away from just disintegrating badly injures a creature then disengages.

Then the guy who threw the best first party of the year of all time - who has a neck tattoo and a demon motorcycle - gets bit by his desk, answers an exam question, then slices up a hydra. His motorcycle turns into a dog and kills the hydra. They both take a bow.

The Archdevil of Rebellion, a Bard-Warlock-Paladin who went to her own class for the first time ever months prior and is currently disguised as the proctor, Fireballs just so many creatures, leaving two baby jellies. She also curses a gorgon.

The kid who multiclassed where no one had ever multiclassed before throws his axe so hard that it changes the gravitational pull, does a ridiculous amount of damage, and knocks this bull prone.

St. Kristen Applebees, Helio’s Chosen One who is on her third deity, immediately destroys eight skeletons after praying to her basically dead goddess.

The Elven Oracle hasn’t even had a turn yet.

If this doesn’t convince him and the Rat Grinders that the Bad Kids have earned their status, I don’t know what will.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[moghedien]

Actually obsessed with the whole dynamic Minthara has with the tadpole mind melding powers. Because while I believe almost every other companion with a tadpole does use the powers to sort of communicate/share thoughts with the PC at some point, and even to share personal information, it feels different with Minthara

For one thing, while all (except Gale for some reason) of the tadpoled origin characters sorta mind meld with you upon meeting, it isn’t intentional with them. You’re all doing that on accident. But the first thing Minthara does upon meeting you is intentionally grab your mind and pry into it. She 100% knows she’s doing it and means to do it and the way it’s described is almost sensual

Like it’s jarring and firm, but not worded as being rough or aggressive. She caresses your mind.

But you also have to keep in mind that she is under mind control at this moment and while her decisions aren’t her own to a significant degree, her desires to reach into other people’s minds and look inside seems to be a largely Minthara thing. Other true souls do it but generally only to identify you and they’re content after learning you’re a true soul. Minthara wants to see what’s going on in your head, to an extent maybe only Z’rell does, though even with Z’rell it’s more sadism on wanting to see the goblins suffer and testing your loyalty (notably after she’s just had to sentence a high ranking true soul to death for failing under her watch so loyalty is a concern atm).

And the really interesting thing here is that Minthara is the only one (at this moment because you don’t have Minsc yet) that has a real and genuine trauma around the tadpole controlling her mind. All of the origin characters were being protected from the absolute’s control pretty much from the start. Minthara wasn’t, and she was tadpoled in an intentionally violent and horrifying way by Orin, and only after Orin made her suffer while in possession of her own mind. Orin tortured her, tadpoles her and made Minthara worship her, and then tortured her some more while Minthara couldn’t do anything but love her. It’s to the point where even all of her hatred of Ketheric stems from the sole fact he handed her over to Orin. Anything else he did, she hardly seems bothered by and even says she respects him. Him being the reason that Orin had her is the one reason she wanted him to die.

After Minthara is free from the absolute’s mind control, she doesn’t really noticeably pry into your mind until the scene where you can start a romance with her, and the dynamic there is what really makes the whole thing interesting to me.

Because she is clearly concerned about your relationship status, because she has to be at a high approval rating to get this scene, meaning SHE likes you. That doesn’t mean that you like her or that you’re trustworthy. She is a Baenre. Her last allegiances were with people that falsely welcomed her in and then tortured her. She isn’t going to accept that anyone is trustworthy.

Not unless she can go in and see that you really truly are.

Which is what really makes this dynamic, because Minthara has THE most trauma around being tadpoled and mind controlled, and yet the only way she can trust someone that she’s started to like is by using said tadpole abilities to look into their mind and seeing what they think about her. Like the tadpoling combined with her upbringing in Menzoberranzan made literally looking inside someone’s mind the only option for her to determine if they’re trustworthy. Which is probably why that was her go-to even when she was under the absolute’s control. Then, being chosen by the absolute was enough for her to accept you, even if you’re a darthiir

And when you get the scene where she wants to look in your kind, it starts with her trying to do so and then pulling back. Almost as if she did it without meaning to. Like she’d been worried if she couldn’t trust you and so her instinct was just to check, but then she realized what she was doing and that it’s wrong to do that so she stops herself. Like she’s definitely grown used to just doing that, but being aware now means she’s aware of that being wrong, even if it’s really really something she needs to see. So she stops herself and explains what’s bothering her and then asks to go in and look at your mind.

And notably, the thing she says she’s having trouble with is her identity, which yeah. She absolutely is having identity issues but that is another post, and I don’t think that’s even really the main reason she’s doing this. Like I said, she has to like you a lot in order to get this scene and what comes from this scene implies that she was trying to pin down your relationship, not her identity.

If you let her in and she sees that you view her positively and not in a way that threatens her, she just comes onto you right there. She very clearly wanted to trust you and if she looks in and sees that you’re not a threat to her, she just goes all in on that. If you don’t immediately see her as a love interest, she does try to talk you into it and expresses the need your absolute trust and whatnot. Like ensuring trust was always her goal there.

But if you basically come onto her first by indicating you see her as a lover, she immediately makes herself even more vulnerable. She does so by just letting you touch her mind after she’s been through the worst fucking mind control, but if you indicate you want her, she just immediately drops whatever guards she still had up and lets you in.

It was absolutely a test of her ability to trust you, not her trying to figure out her identity, at least not her identity outside of her relationship with you.

And once you’ve both peeped inside and determined you aren’t going to hurt each other, like I said she’s much more vulnerable both in her tone and words but also she’s still in your mind

She already admitted her fears to you at this point, but reading her almost hesitance to touch your mind after this is just a whole other level. Because this is after you agree to be with her, and now she’s all of a sudden afraid of touching your mind. Not because she’s afraid of what she’ll see there because she’s already seen it. And idk what I’m even saying here but just the moment when Minthara knows without a doubt that the two of you are something is the moment she shows hesitance with touching her mind. And it wasn’t as if the first time she did it in the goblin camp it was rough. It was notably not rough and described as a caress.

But it’s just all coming together now. Touching your minds is the only way she can feel safe, but it’s also the thing that hurt her the most in the past with others. So now she has safety and she has you and she has permission to be in your mind, and she hesitates, like she’s afraid of doing even the slightest thing to hurt you now.

Because if you’ve gotten this far with her, you are literally the only person what Minthara has ever loved that the love didn’t come with stipulations and violence. And if you realize that, it’s clear why she would so immediately devote herself to the first person she liked who she could be absolutely sure wouldn’t hurt her and why she hesitates now when doing things that even slightly resemble how she was hurt in the past.

[akanemnon]

I’ve been trying my best not to flaunt my aged up Frisk and Kris hyperfixiation as last week’s page seemed too important for something like this but fuck it. They’re unfortunately just THAT good.

We know that teen Frisk wants to have a beard, and College Kris is a herbology student. Do you have any other headcanons for them?

Teen Frisk would be a camp counselor. Idk, they just give me that vibe. They're a very outdoorsy person anyways. Problem is that they wouldn't be much for the regular activities. I know TeenFrisk looks like a very chill and huggable fella, but I can picture them becoming kind of an adrenaline junkie (they get bored very easily). But they can switch on a dime from relaxed to "goblin mode". Instead of doing regular activities, they'll be like: "Watch me wrestle this alligator!"

As for college Kris, well they definitely would keep up their status as the weird one. I can see them becoming the campus cryptid and they would revel in it. They enjoy being this way just like Frisk does. But they both have their own ways of doing it. Though by then they'd have severely mellowed out. Essentially, they're Frisk's opposite. They can hyperfixate on something for hours without growing bored of it. They're a cave dweller and they only go out for lectures and for examining the campus flora (preferably at dusk or just straight up night)

Both can do well without each other, but they do call each other every day. They spent at least four years living together before Kris had to leave for college.

[sunflowerwizard]

I've seen enough people mischaracterizing Early Access Wyll, so here's the best breakdown of his original character I can give.

I'll start this off by plainly summarizing Wyll's EA backstory, some of his core personality traits, then do a bit of analysis.

BACKSTORY

EA Wyll mentions being "born and bred in the upper city" into nobility. It's unspecified what exact level of influence his family occupied.

In datamined voice lines from EA (take with a grain of salt) Wyll refers to being from House Eltan specifically. Eltan was the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate in the first Baldur's Gate Game, and the founder of the Flaming Fist. Forgotten Realms lore states that the Eltans are no longer in charge of the Fist and have somewhat diminished in power, but again. We don't know to exactly what level.

This also means that this iteration of Wyll was not Ulder Ravengard's son. While he still spoke about his father in EA, the descriptions and characterizations do not line up with Ulder at all. Additionally, he comments about "knowing of" Ravengard during the burning inn sequence, but otherwise makes no connection.

The most damning evidence of all that Wyll being a Ravengard was not originally intended, is Wyll wanting to be like his father and thus "going thieving in the wrong shadows".

Wyll gets caught stealing, presumably as a teenager, and his father uses latent connections within the Flaming Fist to get Wyll sent there. Effectively the fantasy equivalent of sending your unruly kid to boot camp.

Wyll mentions that he didn't adjust well to life as part of the Flaming Fist, was not a very good fighter, and was generally not well liked. The goblin at the windmill calling Wyll "Captain Failure" implies he might have been given higher status despite not earning it.

The way Wyll feels about goblins is a big change between EA and full release, and is explained as part of his backstory.

We didn't get the finer details, but we can assume Wyll in his time with the Fist bore witness to a group of goblins razing a village. Horrified and enraged, he tried fighting a goblin, was overwhelmed, and had his eye torn out.

This is when Mizora showed up and offered him a pact. Considering he was left for dead and probably going to bleed out, it's pretty understandable why he took the deal.

Mizora is not nearly as present in Early Access as she is in the current game. Karlach was not involved in Wyll's story at all, there's no devil transformation.

It's also more heavily insinuated there's a sexually coercive element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship, with him speaking to how every time he wanted to leave her, she found some way to pull him back.

Additionally, Wyll wants out of that contract. Unlike full release where Mizora is randomly captured in Act 2, she starts off kidnapped, and insists she'll let Wyll go if he frees her

It kind of ended up being a plot cul de sac, but Torturer Spike was the goblin that took Wyll's eye--which was a quest item you could pickpocket/loot off his body. Wyll had commentary on it and everything.

TL;DR: -Born to a noble family with Flaming Fist connections -Caught Stealing and sent to work for the Fist as punishment -Tried to fight back during a goblin attack and was gravely injured -Mizora offers a pact -Uses his pact to become a traveling monster hunter, presumably to make up for his past failure to protect people. Antagonistic towards goblins in particular -Ultimately wants out of the pact, but Mizora won't let him go -Wyll and Mizora get abducted by Mind Flayers -Mizora agrees to let Wyll go if he frees her from the cultists

PERSONALITY

This is a bit less concrete than changed story beats, but I can say this: a lot of Wyll's core traits stayed intact between EA and full release. He's still willing to put his life on the line for the Tiefling refugees, with a whole cut line about how the kids he's training deserve to have a carefree childhood. He wants to do good in the world, probably because he spent so much time in his youth feeling like a fuck up.

There's also a much clearer divide between "Wyll" and "The Blade of Frontiers". Notably, in EA he didn't introduce himself by name. Not even a "my friends call me Wyll" quip at Shadowheart like he has currently. During his old romance scene, he has a line about being used to being the hero, and not used to needing one. He's a symbol. An emblem of something bigger than himself. The fact he's so self-aggrandizing as The Blade makes it apparent he's not confident in himself as "just Wyll"

He's also decidedly more forward and flirty in EA, with no reservations about courtship. In fact, the main obstacle to your budding relationship is Mizora herself. Wyll's trauma from her treatment interrupts your first night together. Whether you have sex or just snuggle, Wyll has a line about how he doesn't want to start a relationship until he can "give himself completely" after being freed from his pact.

THOUGHTS & COMPARISONS

I'm also not entirely sure if I'd say EA Wyll is substantially angrier than current Wyll, so much as he had more opportunities to be angry during Early Access. I can understand why the goblin stuff was cut, because it did dip into "Let's make the one black guy fantasy racist" trope. However, it did very much feel like the narrative was pointing in bright, flashing colors that this is a trait Wyll would have to grapple with, learn, and grow from. The fact EA Wyll's most glaring character flaw was scrapped and didn't get much of a replacement in full release makes his story feel less realized.

While I appreciate the overtly sexual element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship was removed, I feel like the final version is somehow even more creepy. During Early Access she existed in the background as a vague villain you only experience via Wyll. And if you do his romance scene and see the way he panics at the mere memory of her, you get the impression of oh shit. This broad is bad news and I've gotta get my boy out of there. The same principle behind not showing the big scary monster too early in the horror movie. Once you've seen it, you can't let your mind fill in the blanks. Mizora went from this intimidating figure whose motives you couldn't fully ascertain, to a mean girl that thinks she's smarter than everyone else but is really just the bumbling lackey of a bigger fish. Who pulls Wyll around with an actual metaphysical leash like a dog. And you're meant to find this sexy.

My final point, and I've said this before: current Wyll's personality seemed more suited to being a scion of house Eltan, while EA Wyll seemed more suited to being Ulder Ravengard's dissapointment son. Current Wyll speaks and carries him like someone raised in nobility despite only being elevated to such status as a teenager. Perhaps this is cynical and maybe even a bit of a conspiracy theory, but I genuinely think he's only Ravengard's son to save on time and assets. Why give Wyll a whole unique family with its own story when we can just tie him in to the "rescue the grand duke" plot, regardless of how much sense it makes!

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

One really tiny but really flavourful detail in BG3 for me is one of the steps in the "Find the Nightsong" quest. The quest in itself is a big fave of mine, not just because of its buildup and dramatic twist and the fact that it deals with my personal favourite character, but also because of the way it winds through all three acts of this immense game. Here, though, I want to highlight a small and relatively early portion of it.

Initially, when you are sent after the mysterious and much sought-after relic called the Nightsong - classic adventurer stuff, really, there's even a wizard in a tower who'll pay you for it - all you have to go on are rumours that it is hidden in an old Selûnite temple in the region you happened to crash in. And sure enough, you explore the cool temple ruins, maybe you do a little puzzle-solving to open a sealed moon-themed door leading to a passage deep below - or you get into the Underdark via one of the other routes available. In any case, once there, you find the tragically doomed underground outpost some of the temple's residents tried to establish, as well as several records of their final hours. But there are no signs of the Nightsong or anything related to it ever being there at all. At that point you have no more info to go on, and your quest journal updates to say so:

Explore the Underdark. The trail goes cold in the Underdark. Where is the Nightsong?

Except... there is something here. And that something is a book - not an ancient record, but a recent publication: This tome appears fairly new-printed; it can't be more than a decade or two old, the item description says. But above all, it is very conspicuously and prominently placed at the foot of the large statue of Selûne that dominates the remnants of the outpost (and that, as part of its defenses, shoots rather deadly magical moonlight beams until you disable it).

The book is called "In Search of the Nightsong". It is marked as a quest item and it is there purely to provide you with a lead and to bridge the gap until the next bit of insight into the Nightsong you will get (which is at this point probably quite a ways away in Act 2, other than the possible tidbit around Nere and the collapsed bridge as you approach one possible end of Act 1). You are absolutely meant to find it and read it.

Fascinating that such a seemingly valuable object has proven so difficult to track down. Indeed, treasure-hunters the realm over have travelled to the Sword Coast with one goal in mind: To find the Nightsong. Yet each by each they have failed, indicating dead ends, rebuffs, or else disappearing altogether. My latest enquiry was with a half-orc named Graly, who insisted he'd come as close as possible to the relic as one may go without forfeiting his or her life. He indicated that the object is not, as most reports indicate, in the Selûnite fort adjacent to the river Chionthar. It is, in fact, held in an old Sharran fortress somewhere in the environs of Moonrise Towers. However, Graly reported that some kind of potent shadow prevents one from approaching where this fortress might be.

In fact, your next quest journal update comes from going into your inventory and reading the book:

Find the Sharran Temple. We found a book that told of a secret Sharran temple that contains the Nightsong. It is hidden underground, somewhere near Moonrise Towers.

How did this recently-published book end up sitting there, just waiting for you to read it, in the sealed, long-abandoned outpost, beset on all sides by unfriendly crowds of goblins, drow, minotaurs, a spectator, you name it? And why is this cool to me? Well, it's a bit meta, but it turns out that Selûne, She Who Guides, goddess of, among other things, questers, seekers, navigators, and the lost finding their path, has more than earned her title. And indeed, here we see that both in gameplay and in lore, Selûne guides.

In this particular case, though you don't know that yet, she's guiding you, both the character and the player, to hopefully save her long-lost daughter.

[iamafanofcartoons]

Tumblr Folklore Stories/Blogs Directory/Masterlist

There are so many great Tumblr Blog stories here! But things are best when organized! Here you are! I’m going to use Tumblr Blaze in a couple weeks to spread this to everyone, but if all of you can reblog this to everyone you know, we can spread the joys of Tumblr to EVERYONE!

Credit to https://www.tumblr.com/dannnnnnnnnnnnex/700073427344736256/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

The God of Arepo (graphic novel 1 / 2 / 3) (ebook)

The Monster of Sentan

The Witch’s Cat

Raise Both Children

Stabby the Roomba (honorable mention)

Cinderella Marries the Prince (comic)

My Arch Nemesis Cynthia

Pirates and Mermaid

Eindred and the Witch

The Demon King

The Cornerwitch

Grandmother Beetroot

Apocalypse Daycare Worker

Grandmother Accidentally Summons a Demon

New Year Saga

A Story About Changelings

Ranger in the King’s Forest

The Difference Between a Hare and a Rabbit

Goblin Men (Canines)

Faceblind Prince Charming and Cinderella

 The human who died of radiation poisoning after repairing the spaceship

The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed

Doctors Without Borders

The Queen with Three Cursed Children

25. Tiny Dragon with one coin hoard

26. Haunted house

27. Shark hero was about to go rogue

28. Grandma lives in the woods comic

29. A Different Aftermath comic

30. Battery (microstory but I love it so much)

31. It’s A Date comic

32. Supervillian kidnaps rival’s kid and they want to stay

33. Narrative Town

34. I have been hired to clean the wizard tower comic

35. Robot Apocalypse

36. The Statues That Do Not Weather

37. Kushiel

38. Tooth Fairy

39. Alien abduction

40. Felonious wish-granting

41. When humans met actual space orcs

42. Space cousins

Well, now they’re categorized.

 https://www.tumblr.com/inkvoices/700033965299531776/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

https://www.tumblr.com/lightningladybug/699931426130444288/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

https://www.tumblr.com/blitzlowin/699840636252225536/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

Also, this is a RWBY-positivity BLOG, so please watch RWBY

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : children ; mention of pregnancy ; slightly suggestive ; mainly fluffy though ; Word Count : 1.4k Request : nope! A/N : all of the skz snippets are done!! yay!! These little drabbles really helped me and I kinda want to do another group for the snippets of life... hmmm...

The lock on the front door clicked, alerting you to your husband's arrival. It would be his first day home after three long months of being on tour. Nights of phone calls between you and him would almost always be interrupted by your 4 year old son who missed his father just as much as you did. 

“BOO!” You had been in the kitchen when Jeongin came through the front door, rather quietly as well, like he was planning on surprising you and your son, but Jeongyoo had different plans. Your boy had been in position behind the little table for a solid hour just waiting for his fathers return. 

“Holy shi-!” Jeongin began, but you pointed at him sternly with the wooden spoon you were holding, stopping him before he could finish the curse word that you didn’t want your son to utilize just yet. “That was a good one, thanks bud.” Jeongin quickly said when he looked down and saw Jeongyoo still standing in front of him. “Do I get a hug? Did you miss me? Hmm?” Jeongin asked, crouching down in front of the boy who was almost like a statue at this point, just staring at his father as if he didn’t understand him. 

A long moment of silence, and you were intrigued by it, wondering about what your son was about to do or if he was going to speak at all. He was a lot of things, but predictable was not one of them. “RAWR!” He suddenly shouted, his hands flying up into tiny claws before running off towards his bedroom. 

Jeongin, in a pure state of reasonable shock, fell back onto his butt, his eyes wide as they followed the little boy that was full of scares right now. “What the fu-! FLIP!? WHAT THE FLIP?!” Jeongin screeched, quickly pushing himself up off the floor to go into the kitchen where you were, almost like he was hiding behind you. You couldn’t help but laugh, especially after hearing stories from Jeongins own mother about how much of a goblin-respectfully-he was as a child. “Does he do this to you? Are you okay, jagi? Has he been tormenting you for three months?” 

You snorted loudly, rolling your eyes at your husband's dramatics before turning to face him, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his slightly pouty lips. “He’s been a good boy. You’re the only person he’s been scaring, unless he does it at the daycare and his teacher just hasn’t told me.” You explained, turning back towards the little lunch that you had been preparing. “I think he’s doing it because he misses you and he just doesn’t know how to express that feeling yet.” 

You could hear the pop of Jeongins lips as his mouth fell open, clearly not on board with your reasoning, but he wasn’t going to argue with it. “Little dude could just give me a hug but he tries to make me shit my pants… got it.” Jeongin joked quietly, and you couldn’t hold in your laughter. “It’s not funny… I miss my son and he doesn’t even miss me enough to not terrorize me as soon as I walk through the door.” 

Sighing softly, you turned around once again, your hands firmly placed on Jeongins shoulders so you could look at him and so that he would look at you. “He does miss you, very much actually.” You started, your thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the tense muscles of his shoulders, feeling him slightly relax under your hands. “He misses you so damn much, he wants to be just like you. Your mother came over and she was telling us stories about how you were as a child…” It was as if a lightbulb clicked inside his head and you could only smile and nod as you seemed to watch it all start to make sense in Jeongins head. “You really were a little stink when you were younger.” You teased and now Jeongin seemed to have both a sense of pride, and maybe just a hint of fear in his eyes. He knew how he was when he was younger, and now he wondered whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that his son wanted to be like him. 

“I don’t think I jump scared my parents like he is though, or at least they never said anything about me doing that. Did they say I did?” He inquired, leaning back against the center island in the kitchen and pulling you closer to him as he did. His hands rubbed up and down your sides, unknowingly sidetracking your brain from answering his question until his head tilted to the side, prompting you to answer. 

“Mm… No, she never said anything about you doing anything like that, but he put his own little spin on being a mini stink stink just like you.” You joked, and in retaliation he squeezed you hips, causing you to squeal and squirm against him. “Rude ass. Don’t get me excited. You know damn well we can’t do anything when Jeongyoo is awake.” You quietly scolded, but Jeongin seemed to find more fun in teasing you, his hand landing firmly against your ass with a loud smack that had you jumping and pressing further against him. 

“Who said I was trying to do anyth-“ Before he could finish his sentence, Jeongyoo once again popped out, seemingly from out of nowhere, this time making both Jeongin and you jump in shock. His blanket was over his head, pretending to act like a ghost, but when he attempted to run off he ended up slipping on the blanket and falling to the floor. “Ah… shi- shoot!” Jeongin shouted, miraculously holding in his curse as he carefully moved you to the side and ran to help his son, scooping him up and holding him tight against his chest. “It’s alright, bud. Daddy is here…” Jeongin cooed, soothing the little boy's soft whimpers as he tried his best to hold back his cries to be strong in front of his father. 

“Did I scare you?” Jeongyoo asked softly, his glistening eyes looking to his father for acceptance, and Jeongin nodded so swiftly, you could almost see the sadness wash away from your son’s face, replaced with a look of both excitement and pride. “I not hurt… I just fell down… I okay now.” He said, attempting to wiggle out of Jeongins hold, but he held onto him tighter, running crazily around the room while making siren noises just to elicit giggles out of your son. 

“My boy! He’s gotten a booboo! Nurse Y/N, we need ice cream and stuffed animals! Quickly!” Jeongin shouted, gently dropping your son onto the couch as you swiftly jumped into the role of nurse to keep up with the impromptu game that your husband had just come up with. “Oh no! He seems to have a case of the giggles! What should we do?!” Jeongin wailed as your sons laughter only got louder, and you rushed over with all the stuffed animals you could carry from his room and dropped them onto the couch. 

“I’ve never seen a case of the giggles like this! I think he needs Mr. MonkeyBoots!” You picked up your sons favorite stuffed animal, one that had been a gift from Jeongin when he had come back from tour last year, and Jeongyoo quickly grabbed his, holding it close to him and hiding his face in it as his laughter slowly died down. “We did it, Dr. Yang! We cured the giggles!” You cheered, clapping your hands together. 

The game ended just as quickly as it started, and soon there was a silence, but it was calm, it was peaceful. Jeongin knelt down on the floor in front of the couch, his hand brushing through his son's hair and he had a smile that he seemed to save only for his son. “I missed you so much, bud.” Jeongin whispered before leaning his forehead against Jeongyoos and letting out a little sigh. “When you’re a little bit older, I’ll take you on tours with me. You and mommy. I don’t like being so far away from you two…” 

“Three…” You corrected him with a soft whisper from the kitchen, and Jeongins head whipped up to look at you over the back of the couch, his eyes wide, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on his face. “You’re the one who wanted to give me a parting gift before you left for tour… It was one hell of a gift, thank you.” 

Jeongin gasped loudly, causing his son who had at some point fallen asleep to stir. “That one better not get any ideas from my mom like he did… I don’t think we can handle another mini me.” 

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix

@felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @delululi @insertsomethingaboutanimehere

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

[lunarloaches22]

Tagged by @thegayesttexan

Ten people I'd like to know better; There is some but argh the social anxiety

Last song; Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) from Hamilton

Favorite color; Cyan or indigo

Last book; Ashes in the Snow by Ruta Sepetys (a World War 2 historical fiction)

Last movie; Mutant Mayhem

Last TV series; Rottmnt (of course)

Sweet, savory, or sour; I love both sweet and sour (no preference) but I can't stand spicy things

Relationship status; Single and happy with that (aroace)

Last thing I googled; How to function in society

Current obsession; Rottmnt (of COURSE)

Looking forward to; Seeing one of my friends I have not talked to in awhile and telling her all about rottmnt as revenge for her hamilton hyperfixation

@lady-lily-the-goblin-witch, @banana-pancake5, @strwbryblade, @unjudgmentalnoob

[cheriden]

˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 not friends 」 ꜝꜝ

“I would never bring a date here. They’d look at you and think bad things.” The panic over a hypothetical situation is evident on your face, and Beomgyu smirks. “Like we’re dating?” Your eyes widen in what seems to be horror, a dramatic gasp leaving you. “No! That we’re friends!” Beomgyu stares at you blankly, and Soobin shifts uncomfortably on the stool. “Uh, I actually thought you guys were dating.”

── synopsis 。beomgyu's a bit bothered by your relationship development with soobin

pairing 。roommate!beomgyu × reader, brief soobin x reader

.ᐟ genre 。fluff

.ᐟ tags 。miscommunication, love confession, arguing, roommates (apartment-mates?), beomgyu is kind of annoying, mc is kind of a bitch, soobin is just there.

.ᐟ status & word count 。oneshot | 2.37k | masterlist

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。as always i did not proofread. reader has no assigned sex/gender

You’re hungry. Pressing your ear against the door, you try to feel for the sound of your roommate and whoever he brought over, mentally shushing the growls erupting from your stomach. You hear heavy laughter—a laughter you know at heart to be his best friend’s, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, your small happy crush. You glance at the mirror and take yourself in—you’re a mess. You shouldn’t even contemplate seeing him like this, scurrying over to your desk to clean yourself up. Maybe it’s a bit excessive, a bit too try-hard just to get something out of the fridge and a quick hey from him. For one, you weren’t even sure he’d stop to look at you. Two, you were almost certain you would just eat in your room anyway. But what’s done is done, taking a deep breath before walking into the living room.

“Hey Soobin.” You greet meekly, and your roommate scoffs at your demeanor, watching you shuffle quietly into the cramped kitchen counter. He pauses whatever he’s doing and turns to you, smiling brightly as he greets you back. “Hey. Didn’t know you’d be home today. Beomgyu told me you’d be out.” You glare at the mentioned boy slightly, before returning to Soobin with a smile. “Oh no, today’s reading day. I’ve just been holed up in my room finishing homework.” The older gets up the couch and walks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite to yours. “Beomgyu should’ve told me! I wouldn’t have come over if I knew you were studying.” You were about to tell him he’s welcome any time, but decided against it—too clingy. “Oh, you’re no bother. I was about done for today anyway.” A straight up lie. Your mind barely registers the choice of letting the other stay or going back to your modules. Beomgyu knows this, and has been hearing you bitch about it for days. He saunters into the seat beside his friend, narrowing his eyes at you. “All this goblin does is lock itself in its room and read. This is good exposure.” Faking a punch at him, you signal for him to back off with your eyes. If he receives it, he doesn’t follow. “I’ve never actually seen you have people over, no friends?” The taller laughs awkwardly, “Beomgyu—” You raise a hand at him. “No, Soobin, it’s fine. I just don’t want my friends meeting somebody like you.” Beomgyu laughs sarcastically, leaning over the counter. “I’m a gift. Just admit you don’t have a social life,” He pauses, whispering into the other’s ear, “or a love life.”

You separate the two, “I don’t—I mean, I would never bring a date here. They’d look at you and think bad things.” The panic over a hypothetical situation is evident on your face, and Beomgyu smirks. “Like we’re dating?” Your eyes widen in what seems to be horror, a dramatic gasp leaving you. “No! That we’re friends!” Beomgyu stares at you blankly, and Soobin shifts uncomfortably on the stool. “Uh, I actually thought you guys were dating.”

Beomgyu sighs, passing the other his bag. “Okay, I think you should get going right? Say bye to my cave-dwelling roommate, we’re heading out.” The taller is dragged through the front door, waving at you. He barely gets to say bye when the door slams shut, leaving you alone in the apartment.

Maybe you were too harsh. You’ve had great times with Beomgyu, and have always taken care of each other when it’s needed. You make each other meals and tolerate each other enough to be around one another, and are really good together when you aren’t fighting. It’s just that over the past few months, Beomgyu hasn’t been respecting your body clock, eating and making noise at the most ungodly hours of the night. Normally you wouldn’t mind, but this term has been hell enough—you don’t need the extra distraction. He also has the problem of bringing home whoever he pleases without consulting you. It was a bit jarring the first time it happened, stepping out of the shower nearly naked to a bunch of his friends in the living room. Thankfully, none of them saw you, but it still made you feel like a good chunk of your life had been reduced. He just does whatever he does whenever he pleases.

Which brings you to the small party he throws after his department finishes up their finals. He asked you around this time, of course he did if he was gonna make such a ruckus. He had the courtesy of pulling you out of your room and introducing you to what you believe is half of his class, a smile and a half-assed greeting on your end at every turn.

Around the two hour mark, you find yourself bored propped against the fridge, unable to relate to any of the happenings around you. Soobin taps your shoulder and you move, watching him pull out two beers. “You look tired.” Is all he says, handing one of them your way. “Very nice of you to offer me a drink in my own house.” You joke, clinking your can against his. “I’m a gentleman.” He smiles, taking a sip. “Looks like your roommate’s been showing you off to his friends.” The corners of your mouth lift a little as you shrug. “I’m just that great of a person.” “You’re the only one who hangs out with him outside his program.” He exaggerates. You laugh. “I guess, though we’re roommates.” He nods, “I guess.” There’s a lull in the conversation, as the both of you lean back to watch the rowdy group go mad at something, you’re not entirely sure anymore. “This party is lame.” Soobin grins slightly at your words, gazing at the rim of his drink. “Yeah?” Replying, you look up to him. “Beomgyu invited all the loud people, it kind of just makes my head hurt.” You take a sip out of the can. “And this beer is like, stale.” You look out into the living room, focusing on nothing in particular. “I have something stronger in my room, if you want to check it out.” The realization of how suggestive your wording is catches you both. You shake your head frantically at him. “I was referring to alcohol.”

Beomgyu’s head hurts. He’s not usually one to blackout like this, especially not at his own party, and looks around the apartment for any sign of life. He catches one of his friends in the kitchen throwing solo cups away, stopping once he sees the brunette settle on the counter. “I sent everyone home an hour ago.” Beomgyu nods at his words, throat too dry to say anything. “But I think Soobin’s still here somewhere. I have to get going, try not to get shitfaced at your own party next time, you’re the host man.” He pats the other’s back, gathering his things and leaving.

When he sobers up a bit, he jolts in a sudden panic. He realizes he left the place unsupervised for at least an hour with loud drunkards, a half-truth, considering Taehyun covered him for the most part. The first thing he does is check the place for faults or breakages as he cleans. The second thing he does is pray that you don’t beat the shit out of him for this. He tiptoes outside of your room, hearing hushed whispers through the slightly ajar door. Peeking, he sees you and Soobin giggling, cross-legged on your bed as he whispers something in your ear. He doesn’t know what’s so funny that you start laughing back and kissing him. Beomgyu’s mouth is agape, watching you move to straddle the lap of his best friend. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but one thing's clear: He feels like he shouldn’t be watching. He retreats to his room in a daze, unsure of why he’s been acting so affected by it. He stays up the whole night, and Soobin doesn’t come out of your room.

A splitting headache surges through your head, making your way you wince as you place your head on the cool table, gazing up at Beomgyu. “What’cha making?” He doesn’t turn to face you, hands and attention on the stove. “Hangover soup, dummy.” He snickers as he hands you a bowl and a glass. You pout, welcoming his teasing and food anyway. “Soobin left a while ago.” You stiffen up, nodding. “Oh, okay.” He hums, “Okay? That’s all you say after he spent the night with you?”

“That, uh—it’s none of your business?” It comes out more of a question than a statement, one that Beomgyu answers for you. “It is my business. I don’t want whatever you and him have going on make problems for me.” Your gaze narrows, “For you? How does it concern you?” He rolls his eyes, “I’m like your only mutual friend! You guys are gonna fight and make it my issue.” The lines aren’t really connecting, but you aren’t sure if it’s a him thing or the fact that your vision is pulsing. “Well,” You relent, “We’re not going to be a thing anyway.” He stops stirring the pot. “Really?” You give him an inquiring look, “Yeah? Why would you think so?” He sits next to you, leaning in. “So, didn’t you do it?” You’re taken aback, eyes blinking. “What?” Raising his hands in the air, the brunette turns defensive. “I don’t know! You were all over him and—” Your gasp cuts him short. “You were snooping on me?” He shakes his head. “I just came to apologize about the party! I didn’t know you would suck each other’s faces off.”

The last sentence was meant to lighten the mood, to swerve the conversation into a casual, non-interrigation. You try your best to reciprocate. “You don’t have to apologize. That party was lame.” Beomgyu relaxes, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, so lame that you finally got with Soobin. My party had that power.” He picks at the hem of his apron. “So you’re not mad about the party?”

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Just be thankful that I don’t want my headache to get worse.” You assert, “And I’m not “getting with” anybody.”

He perks up, curious.“Why not?” Playing with the spoon, you shrug. “Just—didn’t feel right. I don’t know” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Was he a bad kisser?” You shove him away. “No, he’s—fine, I guess.” Beomgyu nods in disbelief. “You’re just saying that to save his ego.” You huff, annoyed. “Like you’re so good at it.”

It barely registers to you, his hands cupping your face as he tilts his head sideways. The plump of his lips as they slowly move against you, the taste of your shared mouthwash as his spit coats your mouth. When he pulls away, he takes in your glossy eyes and uneven breathing, and suddenly his mind goes blank. “Now who’s a good kisser?” Is what he should be saying. Instead he opts for, “Um, I—forgot I had a thing.”

You’re livid, and he can sense it. He notes it in the way you storm back your room when he’s in a common area, he sees it when you glare at him from a distance, feels it when you make loud clangs as you throw the dishes haphazardly in the sink. He walks on eggshells when you’re home, though you’re here less and less as the month passes. Beomgyu has never been the confrontational type, though he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to end that streak. Not when he feels like the world is caving in on him as you continue with your cold treatment.

Today, you’re in the living room. He stops in front of you, his question simple enough: “Are you okay?” It’s open-ended, it’s unassuming. It earns him a scowl from you, contradicting your words as you respond, “Yeah, great.” He pushes forward. “Did I—did I do something?” You sigh heavily, shutting your laptop rather harshly. “How about when you kissed me and left with no explanation?” You start. “Or how about when you threw a party and left Taehyun to babysit your friends? Maybe it’s when you fucked with my sleep schedule and leave your shit all over the floor all the time? It could also be the noise you make without consulting me?” “This isn’t a game to me, Beomgyu. You don’t respect me or my space enough to actually give a shit.” A heavy silence hangs for a moment, and you can see the brunette’s adam’s apple bob before replying. “I am so sorry for being a shitty roommate.” You make no change in facial expression, and Beomgyu moves to kneel in front of you. “No, really. I’m so sorry I was so apathetic to you, I swear I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I—I’m just a shitty listener.” You bite the inners of your cheek, “And the kiss?” He drops his head and stares at the carpet. “That’s…” He trails off, inhaling deeply. “That’s because I think I like you.”

You swallow down, stuttering before you continue. “Oh—I um… I forgive you.” He looks up and shakes his head in disagreeance. “It’s fine, I—” “No,” you interrupt, “I should have said something. I should have told you how frustrated I was instead of throwing a tantrum.” He nods, and you bury your face in your arms.

“You good?” He asks, poking his head from underneath to see you. He pauses when he catches sight of your face, placing his palms on your knees. He’s not sure if he should say anything, not sure if he can even say this: “Are you blushing?” You mumble incoherently, but Beomgyu is able to connect the whispered phrases. You liked the kiss. He shifts, a bit uncomfortable, a bit giddy. “So, you’d say it’s better than Soobin’s?” He giggles when you shove him, causing him to fall back onto the carpet. “Don’t say that, it just—felt right that time.” He tries to hide his blush under his cocky demeanor, but his expression falls flat, unable to hide his meek smile. “Right enough for you to kiss me again?” You scoff, but get off the sofa to level with himon the ground. “Maybe.”

thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs, and tags for support towards the algorithm appreciated♡

are we finishing the asks?! only the ones with no smut bc im lazy

─── 〔 𝒎.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 〕

[fishysaltine]

Odd internet discourse but I absolutely think every single of the main NPC’s would peel and orange for TAV/Durge, mostly depending on relationship status.

Wyll would peel an orange for you if he didn’t know you, he’s the Blade of the Frontiers!!! Peeling an orange for someone, let alone his friend or lover with probably a breath of relief from killing goblins/giant bats/gnolls. And he’d be a good orange peeler too. He’d even probably break it down perfectly into the little slices too. He kind of gets a hiccup when Mizora transforms him but he quickly figures out how to put his new claws to use and uses them to cut the peel even better like one of those fancy orange peelers.

Gale probably wouldn’t peel an orange for someone if they were some stranger on the street, but most definitely if you’re his friend or beyond. But if you’re his lover he’d probably make you a magic orange tree that gives you perfectly peeled oranges whenever you want them, mostly bc he’s not the best at peeling oranges (the skin is too tight for him, ok???) and everything HAS to be perfect for his Tav/Durge. God Gale would just be like “you’re just not ambitious enough try harder”, give you a thumbs up, and fuck off.

Karach would totally peel and orange for her bestie, and most definitely for her Tav/Durge. The thing is she’d totally suck at it. I imagine she just bites the peel to get it loose, but then her claws would just cut into the orange and get juice all over her hands (and in her eye), and it’d be a totally fucked up orange BUT she would do her best and yk what? She can just squish it and make Tav/Durge orange juice. (Plus Tav/Durge can lick it off her hands so who’s complaining rlly)

Shadowheart would only peel an orange for you if you were her BEST friend/lover and also if she’s a Selunite. Yk Shar has some sacred law about oranges being some weird metaphor for emotions and she won’t stand for that as a Sharran. She would look at Tav/Durge with that incredulous “okay…?” Look she does and that tone she has when she thinks her dearest is being silly/stupid, but she would do it. She would also be a decent peeler I imagine, but she would leave those annoying white strands on it just to kind of piss Tav/durge off.

Lae’zel would peel an orange depending on how you approach her. I think she’d have to see you peeling an orange first, get curious about it, and eventually break down and ask “wtf is that?” And Tav/Durge has to show her how to peel and orange. Then it becomes some like wild competition to her, especially if you romance her and give her a peeled orange once. Then she just starts peeling oranges and is absolutely awful at it and then gets angry that she’s not good at peeling oranges. So in the end she’ll probably take your orange, peel it for you, go like “chck, see? This is how a true warrior peels an orange.” Just to show off how goddamn good she is at peeling oranges, then give it back. And in the end she is crazy good at peeling oranges. (I imagine Tav/Durge and Lae’zel peeling oranges, then exchanging them while waiting for a sunrise. I also imagine Lae’zel likes the citrusy taste, but not how sticky it is.)

Astarion would only peel an orange for you only if you’re his lover. People who don’t think he would have never seen him interact with Durge or Half-illithid Tav (heavy on Durge in their entirety). And I don’t mean this in a “omg he’s my Prince Charming” I mean it in a way of like, a silent act of service. He would peel an orange for a romanced Tav in Act 3. He’d probably look at you weird, but he’d peel it, being anxious and snarky the whole time (bc let’s be real this man has probably never in his 240ish years of life, peeled an orange. Probably makes a note about how “CAZAdor never had USE for ORANGES”). But he would peel it, and complain about his nails and clothes in that whiny tone that he has when he really doesn’t mind, he’d just taking the piss out of you because you’re an adult and can technically do it yourself. But he gets the point. Kind of. Non-ascended epilogue Astarion is the one who gets it, and isn’t as snarky about doing it as Act 3 Astarion.

Ascended Astarion would peel oranges for Tav/Durge only after they beg him too, he wants/needs to see them pathetic before he entertains the thought of being anything for them just for them. He would also be super manipulative and bitchy about it like “oooohhh look at what I do for you, darling. You owe me so such, my pretty little consort. I treat you sooo well, don’t I?” The whole works.

P.S. Halsin would peel an orange for anyone who asks, and I imagine he’s good at it. He’s Archdruid, which means he gets a +10 to fruit checks. And oranges he peels also just always taste the best too. It’s concerning how good they are.

[amorgansgal]

The Memory of Shadows

So here we go, the sad Astarion x Reader/Tav fic that made me sad when I wrote it. I've not included a named or gendered tav, so hopefully everyone can enjoy... or not enjoy as the case may be!

Gender Neutral Tav/Reader x Astarion

CW: Grief/mourning, death, depression, suicidal thoughts

He wakes. He takes a moment to look at the gossamer red fabric that drapes over the bed, feels the plush, velvet cover under his fingers, he trails them up to the pillow next to him, its cold blankness always an aching reminder. He hates it and he’s not even sure if it still smells of you, there’s so little of you left. Time is doing that, you slip away from mortal memory, becoming lost to the status of mythical hero, rather than living, breathing, flesh and bone. Like a dull knife forcing its way back into his heart, he aches, everything hurts - though he’d never admit to it.

You’re in books, there’s songs about you, about all of them: brilliant Gale, fierce Lae’zel, clever Shadowheart, noble Wyll, excitable Karlach, even Astarion gets a look in as wily. And you, you were the hero, the glorious leader who led them to victory, who saved Baldur’s Gate. You have the starring role. It seems though, to him, the more that is written and said about you the less real you become. He’s scared of that, you’re shimmering before him, your face drifting like shadows, the memory of shadows. Oh he has paintings of you, they’re all over the house - he put them back up after it became somewhat bearable - but they’re a frozen piece of you, not the real thing. They don’t capture the way your mouth would twitch before you smiled or laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with delight when he had managed to pick a lock or the warmth of your hands when you took hold of his.

‘How long has it been?’ he thinks as he finally gets to his feet. ‘50 years, 80, 100?’ He wrote down the day in a diary, but that too has been lost to this house and he’s not sure if it really matters. Why would it? Knowing there’s a special date to acknowledge your passing doesn’t make any other day hurt less. He’s alone, more so than ever. Gale is gone, Wyll is gone, Lae’zel is gone, Shadowheart passed a few years ago… There’s just him and Halsin and Jaheira, and he’s never exactly been close with either of them. Halsin used to visit when you had passed, you had been close with him after all. But he got the sense Halsin did so out of obligation, rather than actually liking him and when they had exhausted all topics of the past - the nautiloid ship, the druid grove, the goblin camp, the shadow curse, moonrise towers, Ketheric, Baldur’s Gate, Orin, Gortash, the Elder brain, you - and he and Halsin were left with an uneasy silence. A silence that lingered on and on and was close to swallowing them up, until Halsin said he would leave Astarion in peace. As though he even knew what peace meant anymore. Now they only meet when someone else dies. What a grim prospect. Who's next? Probably Jaheira, though that won't be a for a while yet.

He moves over to his wardrobe, even this part of the day holds no joy for him. He doesn’t get to hear your teasing comments about how long he spends carefully selecting his clothes or feel your hands wrap around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, the kisses you would trail down his spine. He presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to let out any whimper of pain or cry of anguish. At times, his darkest, loneliest times, he wonders if he would have agreed to let Cazador torture him for all eternity, if it meant he could just have one more day with you. A single day would be worth it. A single kiss, a single loving touch, a single laugh, a single look. He’d make a deal with all the devils in hell if it meant he got to hold you again for one last time. 

He pulls his hand away from the handle on the wardrobe door. He’s too tired for this and he doesn’t want to do it anymore. He’s in hell already, he may as well see if he’ll get a glimpse of you in the afterlife. He walks over to the heavy draped curtains, his fingers curl on the black fabric lined with golden leaves. You probably won’t be pleased with this, but hopefully you’ll forgive him. He's sure you will. And gods, he would love to see you angry because it would mean seeing you again. He'll take anything he can get. He yanks open the curtains. The sun is brilliant, blinding, burning hot and cold, and the sharp, all encompassing light reminds him of your laugh, your wit, your very being. Maybe he’ll get to see you soon.