#i'd call it a cautionary tale

[cassowary-rapture]

Whoa, guy who burns books becomes a book that is burned

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

[cinnamonwhore]

⋆ ♡˚｡⋆୨lolita is not a love story˚♡

(this is a sloppy rant, sorry)

lolita is not a love story. it is about a crime. a cautionary tale about things that unfortunately happen in real life. the book itself recognizes it, humbert describes himself as a monster, dolores calls him a "dirty old man", the book begins with a fictional physcologist acknowledging it. dolores is a victim and humbert is a criminal; lolita is about the all to unfortunately too common scenario of a man in a position of power, a man who is respected and thus would never be suspected to secretly be this sick and twisted person, who is able to get away with a crime, he's smooth talking and can almost make you forget that he's a monster, and that's the point. and weather lo was attempting to seduce humbert is irreverent. lo is a child. it is humbert's job to not to "give in" (I don't know how to phrase it). so yes lolita is not a lovestory and never and never has been. if you read the book, truly read it and understand it, it is self evident. lolita is perhaps my favorite book and the most well written book i've ever read. it is not problematic(IMO) to enjoy the book, the aesthetic. but it is problematic to romanticize it, call it a lovestory, want to be dolores, think of all the real life dolores. i was merely sexualized as an underage girl, a child and that was horrible, so i can't imagine what lo had to go through.

i'm not the most qualified to speak on this and if your still not convinced there's many resources about it. i'd recommend shanspeare's video and lolita podcast and final girl studios's video for better, more well-researched analysis. i love you all, stay safe.

xoxo, trini

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Thanks for the prompt @judymarch15!

Wait, that scar is actually from a tracheotomy? From choking on bread?" Tommy asked, eyebrows shooting up.

Buck nodded, his face turning the color of a ripe tomato. "Yep. Worst. Valentine's. Ever."

Tommy snorted. "Wow, Evan. When I brought up Valentine's Day, I was not expecting a cautionary tale about the dangers of baguettes."

"What can I say? I live life on the edge," Buck shrugged, grinning. "That's why I usually try to be on shift for Valentine's. Less risk of death by dinner roll."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Well, what would you say about celebrating this year with someone who promises not to let you choke on your food?"

"Mmm," Buck hummed, tapping his chin. "Did you have someone in mind? Maybe a skilled helicopter pilot with excellent reflexes?"

"Haha," Tommy deadpanned, swatting Buck's arm. "Keep it up, and I might reconsider my offer."

Buck's eyes widened in mock horror. "No, wait! I'll be good, I swear."

Tommy chuckled. "Alright, alright. So, here's my grand idea: we alternate Valentine's Days. I plan this year, you plan next year."

"Ooh, I like it," Buck nodded. "But can I call dibs on planning our anniversary? I've got some ideas..."

"Deal," Tommy said quickly, looking slightly alarmed. "But maybe we keep it simple, yeah?"

Buck grinned mischievously. "Define simple. Because I was thinking a scavenger hunt across the city, ending with a candlelit dinner on top of the Hollywood sign. Too much?"

Tommy laughed, shaking his head fondly. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you love it," Buck winked.

Tommy leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "True. But I can tell you one thing, Ev," he purred. "No bread."

Buck burst out laughing. "Deal. I'd hate to ruin the mood with another emergency tracheotomy."

"That's the spirit, babe," Tommy grinned. "And I promise to pick somewhere with good soups. Can't have my sweetheart risking his life over a crusty loaf, can we?"

"My hero," Buck batted his eyelashes dramatically. "Saving me from the perils of carbs, one Valentine's at a time."

[the-elder-polls]

tell us about some of appalachia's folklore! i specifically know about the brown mountain lights but i'd love to hear and learn more

OOH okay!!

my favorite is the black big cats. leopards, cougars, panthers, whatever you wanna call em. there's been stories about them for centuries. they sound like screaming women (my mama described it as "like a woman being murdered") and are noted for just how eerie they are. they move silently and have huge yellow eyes. i have personally only heard one story of them being described as aggressive; most i've heard, including from my direct family, describe them as passive unless provoked. (note: they aren't melanistic bobcats. they're much larger and don't sound the same. this has been researched multiple times with most researchers concluding there's no way they exist, but i know those mountains and know they're good at hiding things, so i personally do believe they exist and are just rare.)

there's the tailypo. gods above and below know that baby me was terrified of the tailypo. the short and simple version is a hunter shot off the tail of a demon, the tailypo, which then drove the farmer to madness by pacing around his house at night saying "tailybone, tailybone, i want my tailybone" until it managed to kill the farmer, getting its tail back. i think this is probably one of our best known folklore cautionary tales

there's also the spirits. i don't personally know of any names for them, just that they exist and are why you don't go in the woods when it's dark. if you hear someone calling for you, crying, or screaming, no the hell you don't. getcher ass inside and close the windows and blinds. don't answer em, don't pay em attention. my family has iron horseshoes over our doors to keep the spirits and evil at bay.

we also cover mirrors and open windows when someone dies so their spirit doesn't get trapped. we don't leave rocking chairs rocking when we get up, and if we do, we apologize and ask for the seat before we sit back down in case a spirit took the seat, since it was still rocking.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Azul, Jamil: By One’s Grace

dnsjbsuebxkzn One of my friends noticed that Platinum Jacket Jade and Azul have the same two portraits, with the placements swapped. This is not true for other dorm leader-vice dorm leader pairs we’ve already seen, like Malleus and Lilia. Just an interesting little detail?

MORE JAMIL AND AZUL PETTY DRAMA… Been craving it since early book 4, one of my favorite treats 😋

A Tale as Old as Time.

"Jamil-san."

He flinched at his name and turned away from the caller. When the footsteps still came, Jamil retreated further into the exhibition. Famous faces stared down from their picture frames at the fleeing boy.

"Jamil-san, please wait for me," Azul tried again. He picked up his pace, in hot pursuit of his peer. "Jamil-san!!"

Deeper and deeper they delved, spiraling into the museum’s depths. The light slowly fading, the air stretching thin and gauzy. Neither relented from the chase--not until Azul ran his prey into a corner, an arm outstretched to contain him in a quiet corner. Jamil silently cursed.

Caged in with an octopus. Great.

A facetious laugh rose from Azul's throat. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were purposefully trying to avoid me."

Jamil deadpanned. “You don't say. No, I was just trying to learn about the history of the Coral Sea in peace."

"If that's what you're interested in, I believe you'll find no better wellspring of knowledge than myself." Azul offered with a coy grin. "I would be more than happy to share stories straight from my hometown. Anything for a dearly beloved companion. such as you."

"No thank you," Jamil quickly retorted. I think I'd rather eat poisoned curry again. "I would be ill-advised to accept free 'help' from you. You'll come knocking and calling in for a favor a few days later."

"Who's asking for favors?" Azul gasped, feigning ignorance. "I simply wish to aid a classmate. As dorm leader of Octavinelle, I pride myself on keeping the Sea Witch's spirit of benevolence alive and well."

Jamil scoffed and folded his arms. "Coming from you, that sounds extremely insincere."

"Me, insincere? Far from it!" He insisted, waving a hand dismissively. From the corner of his eye, Azul caught a flash of fiery red. He tilted his head, and his brows raised. "Hmm? Oh, this painting is..."

"The painting?" Jamil followed his gaze.

There was a young mermaid mounted upon a rock, a massive wave crashing into her from behind. Though the skies were dark and stormy, her face was full of light and sunshine. A great mane of fire whipped around her, the mermaid's chest thrust out and mouth open in joyful song.

"One of my favorite works of art."

"Somehow I doubt that..." Jamil sighed. "What exactly do you like about it?"

"Many things! For one, there is her gullible... er, excitable expression. You can see just how much wonder she has for the world. She's full of hope for her future prospects.

"In fact, this is the very same mermaid appears in some legends about the Sea Witch." Azul chuckled softly--though his growing smirk was anything but. "A mermaid so lovesick, she failed to meet the conditions set forth in her deal. Because of that, she incurred the Sea Witch's fury. It's a cautionary tale to always pay one's dues, fufufu."

"... No wonder why you like it," his peer grumbled. "For her to make a promise to the Sea Witch and then not follow through with her end of the bargain... How foolish. Her punishment is well-earned."

"Punishment? Perhaps one could use that word, but I see it as a form of the Sea Witch's compassion."

"There's nothing compassionate about debtor being raked across the coals."

"Compassion is not just kindness, Jamil-san. Compassion is also the sternness that comes from a place of caring. The Sea Witch surely must have also been heartbroken to turn her anger on a client whom she placed her trust in. Were she to leave the mermaid to be, the mermaid would likely run amok and commit the same acts of betrayal unto others. Her lesson would not be learned."

Azul shrugged. "You see? The Sea Witch is truly benevolent and merciful, even when she lets loose her rage."

"What a twisted mind you have. I can't say I disagree with the course of action though.”

“Poor, unfortunate little mermaid,” Azul cooed. “She longed to change herself for true love, risking the life she knew for the uncertainty of new opportunities.”

“Hmph, a person who desperately wants to change themselves?” Jamil’s mouth cocked into a smirk. “Now who does that remind us of, hmm?”

He was met with a bitter laugh.

“The world can be a harsh place,” Azul said, his response evasive. “I wonder if the mermaid was able to finally face it.”

What would she have done if her optimism had been crushed under the weight of a cruel reality? What if her new self was rejected after all her struggles and sacrifices? What if her efforts were all for naught?

What if, what if, what if.

What if he was the same as her?

The inept octopus. Not smart, not particularly good at swimming, too bulky. Sobbing in his private little pot, the inky tear trails a dead giveaway to his location.

Nice clothes, good grades, and lifestyle changes couldn’t bury that past in the sand. It was not enough—would never be enough.

Once, he would have desired to kick her down. To see a sand castle fall apart at his own hand, to relish in the destruction. Wipe away proof of his old incompetence.

Be rid of it forever.

Now, he knelt and encircled it with his arms, Hugged that piece of him against himself, reassured it with compassionate words.

You’re here.

You’re a part of me.

I will never reject you again.

“… Change is as natural and as common as the coming and going of the tides. Why fear the tides—why fear change?”

Why deny what I was then, and who I am now?

Then, donning his brightest—and perhaps most genuine—smile, Azul faced Jamil head-on.

“It is by the grace of the Sea Witch that we were able to learn such a valuable life lesson at no cost to ourselves! Isn’t that wonderful?”

[acetone4veins]

Quotes + Mean Girls

associating angsty quotes (and some fluffy ones) to mean girls characters and dynamics, this is definitely longer than it should be and will probably be part 1 of many but anyways. lmk which were your favorites and which ones ruined you :) also shoutout to the cautionary tale discord who saw some of these already and ramble about these characters with me <3

posting under the cut so i don't clog anyone's feeds

Regina

"what a terrible thing to wound someone you really care for - and to do it so unconsciously."

Haruki Murakami

"and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?"

Charles Bukowski

"i am changing. i am trying to be better. it is slow; it is rough; it is repetitive, but i swear i am."

Abdulsamad S. M.

"i did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. i did not like to be touched because i craved it too much. i wanted to be held very tight so i would not break."

Marya Hornbacher

"i was not a loveable child, and i'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs."

Gillian Flynn

"if only my heart were as cold as i pretend it is, maybe i could get over this."

Jessica Katoff

"i wasn't beautiful anymore. now i looked like what i was, a raw wound."

Janet Fitch

"i'm restless and harsh and despairing. although i do have love inside me. i just don't know how to use love. sometimes it tears at my flesh, like barbs."

Clarice Lispector

"i did not mean to be cruel. i swear i am good, i am good, i am kind. i have love inside me. some place far far away."

unknown

Cady

"how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before its some kind of murder?"

Richard Siken

"your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing."

Dyodor Dosteovsky

"what and how much had i lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what i myself wished to do?"

Ralph Ellison

"my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?"

Fernando Pessoa

"it was good for a while, being empty. i didn't hurt anymore. but as time went on, it was like i could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back."

Myra McEntire

"is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?"

Friedrich Nietzsche

"who's the real you? the person who did something awful, or the one who's horrified by the awful thing you did? is one part of you allowed to forgive the other?"

Rebecca Stead

"you're a mess of good intentions gone wrong. you strike a match on yourself to keep others warm, and now the whole goddamn world's on fire. you try to put it out, and you try so hard. the dam breaks, and the waters of your sorrow pour free. you are sorry; so very, very sorrow - and you will drown everyone to prove it."

unknown

Janis

"there are times when i am convinced i am unfit for any human relationship."

Franz Kafka

"i am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and i thought people would see it because 'romantic' doesn't mean 'sugary'. it's dark and tormented - the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you cannot attain."

Catherine Breillat

"but whatever came, she had resolved never again to belong to another than herself."

Kate Chopin

"there were two reasons i was scared to let people in; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find."

Chris McGeown

"perhaps its good for one to suffer. can an artist do anything if he's happy? would he ever want to do anything? what is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life?"

Aldous Huxley

Gretchen

"i want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love."

Sylvia Plath

"she wanted to say 'don't leave me', but she couldn't do it, not again. she was so tired of begging people to love her."

Kristin Hannah

"he is charmingly telling me how much he does not love me...and i, - listening to him carefully, - am approving it."

Marina Tsvetaeva

"she's gonna forever say 'i got this' even with tears in her eyes."

unknown

"still there is this terrible desire to be loved. still, there is this horror at being left behind."

Michael Cunningham

"can you understand me? someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?"

Sylvia Plath

"i am trying to make myself digestible. i am trying to make myself easy to love."

I.B. Vyache

"do you think it is possible that some people are born to give more love than they will ever get back in return?"

Tyler Knott Gregson

Karen

"the sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more."

Augusto Cury

"a lot of people tell me i'm a bit dreamy. but i like the idea of that. of being somewhere else."

Alam

"you cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. this is your tragedy, because you understand them but they do not understand you."

Daniel Saint

Regina and Janis

"the bear loved the deer, it was obvious. it ripped the deer's throat out, and then licked the dying deer with the most passionate affection. i thought of you and me."

David Cronenberg

"can you hate someone for what they have done, but still love them for whom they had been?"

Jodi Picoult

"love isn't soft, like those poets say. love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close."

Stephen King

"i love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

Pablo Neruda

"they will hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if i love you and i will say no but the needle will jump and sputter exactly how you laugh."

unknown

"there's a sickening feeling of familiarity, when the wrong person knows you too well and you know them too well. and they weren't always the wrong person."

unknown

"we don't mean to hurt each other, but we do. and perhaps no matter how right we are for each other, we'll always be a little wrong."

Beau Taplin

Regina and Cady

"i am intense darkness and you are a golden sunrise."

Arijit Singh and Pritam

"even before you touched me, i belonged to you; all you had to do was look at me."

unknown

"whether you come as a lover or an executioner, i am ready to receive you."

Agustin Gomez-Arcos

"for the longest time, i saw myself as a bad person. you don't know how much it meant to me when you looked at me and could see the good."

unknown

"but i have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and i choose both."

Sarah Kay

"i promised myself i would never fall in love with you. but it was 4 am, and we were laughing way too hard, and i felt happy for the first time in a long time, and i knew i was screwed."

unknown

Gretchen and Karen

"i would rather be with you - even the you that you seem to think is diminished - than with anyone else in the world."

Jojo Moyes

"it hurts, he realizes, to love someone who can't love themselves. like watching a work of art set itself on fire."

unknown

"how amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head."

Nina LaCour

"come love, make me better than i was. come teach me a kinder way to say my own name."

Andrea Gibson

"i wanted you to see a mess and still find me worthy of love, to tell me that you could still love me anyway."

Georges Bataille

"sometimes, love is as simple as watching the moon and sometimes its as difficult as counting the stars. but i love doing both for you."

unknown

Janis and Damian

"you may be born into a family, but you walk into friendships. some you'll discover you should put behind you. others are worth every risk."

Adam Silvera

Regina and Gretchen

"but i am very homesick for arms that have never held me."

unknown

"i burned so long so quiet you must have wondered if i loved you back. i did, i did, i do."

Annelyse Gelman

"so i wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. till then my windows ache."

Pablo Neruda

"how do you tell someone that the reason you're sad is because you love them?"

unknown

[bananasfosterparent]

I definitely think there are more AA enjoyers out there (including some Spawn fans who claim otherwise, remember how many of them were salivating over AA's sex scene in the beginning but now they're all saying they actually hate it because he's dissociating in it) but the thing is AA fans have become the fandom's punching bag which makes it really difficult for a lot of people to publicly come out as liking this route without potentially being called delusional, told that you may end up being abused irl and other crap like this because how can you not see his toxic and abusive behavior. It also doesn't help that even one of the writers who worked on his character claimed that players who chose this route only saw him as a sex object lmao

I know there are spawn fans who like AA because every time I see AA romance scene posts in places like OnlyFangs and the Astarion facebook groups I'm in, I ALWAYS see comments like "I can't ascend him but this is so hot!!" or "thank you for posting this! I'd never do this to pookie, but I have to admit this is got me🥵🥵🥵" or panty dropping gifs and things like that. So they can thirst after AA (but we are the only ones sexualizing him, remember!), yet simultaneously talk about how much they hate that version of him. It really makes no sense. Just enjoy all of Astarion! No guilt, excuses, disclaimers, or abuse required!

It's really unfortunate. I understand why some AA fans keep quiet in the fandom. There are a few people in one of the AA discords I'm in, who are only active in that discord and nowhere else in the fandom because theyre just tired/afraid of the negativity. That's ridiculous to me! The fact that people literally can't even comfortably just exist in the fandom without the fear of being bullied for NOTHING.

I have been told I'm "romanticizing abuse" directly and indirectly more times than I can count and it doesn't get better with frequency. And when you factor in that many AA fans ourselves have had experiences with abuse and trauma, it's just such a poor taste statement that literally has 0 ground. I mean, if any romanticizing of abuse were happening, wouldn't it be Larian doing it anyway? Aren't they the ones allowing the romance to continue after ascension with positive dialog choices, and sharing the AA kisses on Valentine's Day posts? Why not come after them instead of fans? If the relationship between AA and his Consort was "written to be abusive" then shouldn't Larian write that so clearly that literally no one can argue about it and there is no doubt in anyone's mind? So why then, is that not shown in the game? And why come after the people interpreting the story differently instead of the company for not making the story's message so airtight, it can't be argued?

Hint: because it's not written to canonly be an abusive relationship, that wasn't Larian's intention and nor should it be. The intention was to create an evil romance route and that's exactly what it is. Anything outside of that is up to YOU.

I think that's where the superiority complex steps in though. That whole "you AA fans just aren't media literate and clever enough to understand the deep, meta meaning of this cautionary abuse tale!" thing.

It also feels like an underlying misogyny thing too. A majority of Astarion fans in general are women and AFAB people. I see spawn fans always calling us "AA girlies" and I never see the reverse. And when it comes to AA fans, it feels a lot like a "let's save/educate the poor naive girls from themselves and their foolishness." When many AA fans aren't even female and certainly aren't naive or young impressionable people looking to have a real life AA.

As for the Co-Writer Who Will Not Be Named... that whole situation is a perfect example of someone abusing their position/influence. They knew players would take their word as law, without actually thinking about it in the context of it being a rolepaying game. So their opinion and agenda is taken as a canon fact when they only did minimal writing AND they can't speak for anyone else's Tav/Durge but their own.

Saying "When Tav ascends Astarion, it means they only see him as a sexual object." is just like saying "Tav keeps Astarion a spawn because they want control over him." Can you roleplay both of those things? ABSOLUTELY. But for most Spawn fans, I'm sure that is NOT why your Tav did it, especially if they're romancing him.

What Welch said is exactly the same type of statement. Their position and professional contribution to the game holds no water in context of their statement being universally applied to all Tavs and Durges that ascend Astarion. It may be how they see it, it may be the impression they tried to get the dialog to convey, but it's all up to each individual player how it's interpreted.

[celesteasteriaxiv]

Don't trust blindly: A cautionary tale for creatives in the FFXIV venue scene.

So, I am a graphic designer by trade and do design for several player-run roleplaying venues. I design anything from logos to infographics to posters.

Early this year, I was asked through a trusted friend (whose venue I did all the design work for) to design some infographics and staff cards for one of the biggest EU venues.

Being fairly starstruck and perhaps a bit naive, I agreed to do the work without agreeing to a payment first. They were a huge, well-known venue and friends of a friend after all, right? What could go wrong?

Now, months after having designed their staff cards, promotional material, an infographic for a roulette minigame and the staff banners for a discord bot, I have yet to see any pay -or even mention of pay- for my work.

I figured, at this point, it's fair of me to ask, right? I politely ask if they have any intention of continuing the staff card project and if they have thought of payment for my projects.

They take a while to discuss, and eventually come back with an answer: they will not be continuing the project, but will pay me a whopping THREE million gil for my work so far. For perspective: I get paid up to 5 million gil for a single poster regularly. This was several designs spanning hours and hours of work.

At this point I realize they never actually had any intention of paying me for my work. Since all of this is, fortunately, about an in-game currency rather than real life money, I did not feel like dragging this out and decided to compromise: 5 million gil, and I'd be out of their hair.

They agreed, but I have yet to hear anything about the actual payment happening. It has been over a month since this conversation took place.

The kicker? One of their owners has been doing their own promotional posters and has copied my designs to the font on at least two occasions (that I know of). They have a habit of... Uhh... Let's call it 'borrowing' others' ideas. Both in their venue and in their online presence. I won't go into too much detail about this, since I have no interest in outing them. But rest assured this a pattern of behavior, rather than an isolated incident.

This is a warning, from me to you, whoever you are: don't assume that people will not use you and your talents, simply because they are big names in your community or because they are friends-of-friends. Agree to payment amounts clearly and in writing, in advance.

Tldr; big EU venue scene people had no intention of ever paying me for graphic design I did for them, when asked months later agreed to a fraction of my normal wage and copied my graphic design. They have not yet paid me as of writing this post.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Dear Rafal:

As some spirit swans shapeshifter angel possession thingy do you create souls and ship them off to the real world?

I have a case where I know someone very well and he just seems to be very similar to you. (cough cough)

Also if Rhian was a girl (or some genderbend AU) would you let me be her gf?

Rafal: [peers down at you from the sky through slitted eyes] I'm not a "thingy" as you claim. Nor am I possessed, and if you'd like to see a man possessed, turn no further than downwards, at my aging mirror image. He's bound to die eventually and I doubt he'll be joining me. [He grins.]

As for your query, the answer is no. Not currently. When I did involve myself in... low, earthly affairs, every mortal soul I had a part in creating was apparently deficient in some way or another. Always, it was: [said in a mocking tone] this one's imbued with an excess of "spite" or "hubris," that one is just plagued with "instability," and a third was impacted by a so-called "disregard for its own species" and a "malcontent temperament"—why should I care?

Amid those general issues, the few souls of mine that had been placed in the Woods were reported to be "cursed," what we call our failed projects, those who can't descend to the Woods and live "ordinary lives." They had to be reworked by my colleagues, who discovered that many of those restless mortals held unconscious, fully-formed vendettas against pirates, Seers, and blond men. Don't ask.

All of my creations have been scrapped thus far, including a potential distant relative I devised for my Stymphs: the razor-beaked, flesh-eating sparrow. It was marvelous, and I'm sure my living students would've found it just lovely. Unfortunately, Heaven didn't approve of my vision for a new and greater Woods, which is pointless, seeing as the Blue Forest is already populated with killer, puffball rabbits. My Woods would've been built upon cautionary tales, to whittle away at the simpletons who believe that as long as they're Good, they "deserve the world" as they're constantly told. The Evers were always entitled as they always received the benefit of the doubt automatically, a privilege my Nevers will never live to get for themselves. It's why they must take what the world deprives them of, which I can understand to an extent. [resentment creeps into his voice.] After all, I nearly got what I wanted, only for it to slip through my fingers. So, instead, my Nevers are trapped with a daft leader and just languish under a losing streak, as far as I can tell.

Besides, my title isn't "guardian angel." Heaven wanted to assign me to a post as a patron of travelers and physicians, but I declined, and took up record-keeping duties since, for the time being, I don't wish to see anyone. I'm not content with menial tasks, but there haven't been any other offerings worth my time, aside from staging a coup, whether it be a coup d'état or coup de grâce for a certain someone, well... I haven't decided yet.

However, I do hope that my brother's still around when the Second Coming rolls around. I'd be all too satisfied to see the dire look on his face as he trembles when I tap him on the shoulder. Then, I'd drag him to a punishment equal to his worldly crimes in whichever circle of Hell happens to be his final destination, all while the rest of the apocalypse roars around us... Something to look forward to, I suppose. The other angels tell me not to be so sure, or that I won't want justice by that point. But however long it takes, I'll be here. Waiting for my moment in that dying sun.

[Rafal likes to think he's moved past earthly proceedings, but in reality, he's still probably bitter, begrudging, and unforgiving (so far), and would prefer to think of himself as beyond trifles like mortal lives that aren't his. He probably just needs time to settle and accept his death. Eventually, he'll reform further though, and grow into his Goodness.]

Rafal: Who is this case of yours? [You don't have to elaborate if you don't want to.]

Do whatever you'd like with Rhian. I'm not his protector any longer, and he’s more than capable of "defending" himself. Just let me take his soul once he dies, and we'll have a deal. [He extends a hand pulsing with sorcery to you to shake.] A contractually-sealed deal.

[house-on-sand]

this song gives me jason vibes lowkey

dude

this IS jason vibes thank you (apparently id heard this song before but never knew the title or anything? so double thanks bc i like it a lot)

theres so much here that screams jason to me i fear this may turn into a long post 😔

"all the things you told me where they meaningless? i needed to know" <- jason and his thoughts abt like. his place in bruce's life yknow? especially with the whole good soldier thing i think. just wanting to know if he was cared about, if that stuff was real, or if it meant nothing and he really was just another soldier in batman's mission.

"told you i ain't mad, so let's stop before we crash / cause i don't wanna run anymore" <- DUDE this is so utrh coded specifically what do you mean!!! it's like his whole speech there!! nd the whole confrontation!!!! & that confrontation does signal the end of jason's running!! bc he's back in gotham and he's finally at the big finish of his plan!! this line drives me insane bc i can see it so clearly in like an edit or something. bc it works so well to me.

"cause you know i wear my heart on my sleeve" <- THIS ONE IS REAL TO ME AND REAL IF U UNDERSTAND JASON AS A CHARACTER AT ALL I SWEAR! LISTEN! YES HES CLOSED OFF AND SHIT BUT HE DOES! SHOW HOW HURT HE IS AND HOW ANGRY AND THIS JUST MAKES SENSE TO ME BC JASON IS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL PERSON N NOT EVERYONE SEES THAT! HE FEELS THINGS SO BIG! ND HES NOT ALWAYS AS GOOD AT HIDING IT AS HE THINKS! NOT EVEN RELATED REALLY BUT IT REMINDS ME THAT JASON IS AN ANGRY CRIER!!! IVE GOT SO MANY THOUGHTS I CANT PUT INTO WORDS ABT JASON TODD AND EMOTIONS!

"you'd be praying on my downfall with each and every phone call / just to see if i'd stay away / you and i could never break this never-ending focus of seeing who could keep playing games" <- very rhato 2016 to me. specifically like around #25 & the annual n stuff. idk if anyone else will see the vision or if it's just smth in my head that makes sense but yknow. bc rhato #25 is the big batman and red hood fight that ends with jason leaving gotham with roy and at the time he's pretty much Banned from gotham bc he'd broken the rules (not really) and batman made it clear that if he did that there'd be no more red hood, jason wouldn't be allowed to do as he wished anymore and all that shit. the whole stay away part is very much abt how jason is sort of Banned and stays out of gotham for awhile. idk can't articulate this one as well

"you lie through your teeth, feels so incomplete / wait for your story to take you too deep / and i call out your name" <- THE FIRST PART IS THE VICTIM BLAMING NARRATIVE AROUND JASON’S DEATH!!! THAT EVEN JAY WILL ADD ONTO BC NO ONE BLAMES JASON TODD FOR HIS DEATH MORE THAN HE DOES!!! U CANT CHANGE MY MIND!! BUT SERIOUSLY EVEN FROM A META POINT ITS ABT HOW EVERYONE ACTS LIKE ITS ALL JASON’S FAULT HE DIED BC HE WAS RECKLESS N SHIT ND MAYBE HE WAS A LITTLE BUT ITS NOT HIS FAULT! IT IS IN NO WAY HIS FAULT HE DIED! HE DIDNT TURN HIMSELF OVER TO THE JOKER AND HE DIDNT BEAT HIMSELF OR BLOW HIMSELF UP! IT WASNT HIS CHOICE TO SUFFOCATE BC OF ALL THE SMOKE HE WAS INHALING!! HE WAS JUST A KID!! AND HES TREATED LIKE THIS CAUTIONARY TALE IN UNIVERSE SO OTHER ROBINS (MAINLY TIM AT FIRST) KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU DONT FOLLOW ORDERS!! JASON DIED AND WAS TURNED INTO AN EXAMPLE! ITS ALL FUCKED UP!

then the calling out your name part is so. it's so evocative of the panels of jason in his grave waking up and realising he's trapped and calling out for bruce!!! it's so. it's got me fucked up

this is a very jason song to me now

[lady-quen]

I just listened to The Horror and The Wild by The Amazing Devil and a couple of the lyrics in the chorus remind me of Numen:

“Think of all the horrors that I promised you I’d bring / I promise you, they’ll sing of every time / You ran your fingers through my hair and called me child”

You're soooo correct and thank you for sending this to me! 🥺 It's such a good song. Even if not all of it necessarily fits, the chorus specifically really hits for the horror vibes of Numen, for sure. Though they aren't doing it willingly, and quite literally only want to observe and love all of existence, they're still acting on Jormag's orders and abducting people. Plus killing whoever gets in the way of it, I'd imagine. All the while, their creator's words ringing in their head: it's for their own good.

In the end, all they can do is ask the Commander and Braham to kill them and remember them - not for their own sake, but the memories of all the innocent people they used to live as before inevitably awakening to their purpose every Cycle. Though it was doomed, the love that did exist mattered. This, coupled with the numen being a divine spiritual presence manifesting in the movements and actions of birds could mean that the birds would quite literally be singing and remembering their story, passing it onto norn shamans as a cautionary tale.

Even though it's up to the Commander to make the call, there are def verse possibilities where they survive and learn to reconcile the ancient dragon persona with their current incarnation, Arnfinn. That, and thankfully, since they're the one in charge of the Frozen magic in this AU, they can undo it and return the spirited away people to (what remains of) their former lives. Even if some had been frozen for decades by that time.

In short, amnesiac shapeshifter creature who's the final vestige of young, pre-corruption Jormag's love commits crimes as a tool to their crazed parent and tries to fix it while learning to accept themself for everything they were and are!!! Argh!!!

Also they like mango pie

[thesunfyre4446]

I’ve been re-reading through Fire & Blood lately for fic purposes and I just thought of something. With Criston Cole being presented in such an off-kilter manner in the show, why does no one throughout episodes 4 through 6 mention the case of Lucamore Strong? When you consider that Harwin is doing the exact same life-threatening shit that a previous member of House Strong did, it would go a long way to explaining why Criston feels the way that he does around Rhaenyra instead of turning him into a “thug” or an “incel” as most of the fandom sees him. Breaking an oath is a serious offense in Westeros and is not given nearly enough attention to. It would also justify why Lyonel feels so threatened because he knows that his family name has already been tarnished. Hell, maybe even Larys sees what his brother is doing and resents him not only for being the firstborn son, but also able-bodied, and arrogant/careless enough to believe that he can break rules as well as bones. There could’ve been discussions scattered across 3 episodes between Lyonel, Larys, Alicent, and Criston about the impact of oathbreaking and adultery under previous Targaryen rule! Not to mention it sets up the presence of Alys Rivers as a Strong bastard and however she feels about being the result of a highborn man's unlawful indiscretion. We won't know until S2, but it's baffling to me that no one ever spoke of "Lucamore the Lusty" as a cautionary tale that emphasized how truly dangerous and idiotic what Harwin and Rhaenyra were doing.

really really really great take anon! i would've never made that connection but you're right - lucamore strong would make a great cautionary tale for criston and the strongs.

and there are so many great ways to include this detail in the story. they could've shown us the kingsguard \ members of the court making fun of harwin calling him "harwin the lusty" or saying "i guess all strongs are the same". it could've been a really cool and meaningful detail to include and it would've added a lot of depth to the story. (btw i'd love to hear about your fic!)

[deadzonedenizen]

Profile Navigation

Submerged AU content:

OC Masterlist: (References and Descriptions)

Bell

Rasmus

Alix

Gibby

Main Fic: Ship In A Bottle

Mini fics (snippets from Ship In A Bottle/ scenes outside of the main plot):

Playing With Fire

Bright As Stars, Sharp As Glass

Red Ink On The Dotted Line

A Cautionary Tale

Morning Activities

Blind Eye Of Destiny

Lore-related tags:

#Shipwreck Debris

Excerpts from Ship In A Bottle, edited from second to third POV

#Flooding Memories

Events that took place before the fic

#Seafloor Scraps

Scrapped ideas for the AU

#Deep-Dives

Just rambles about AU development

#Message In A Bottle

Journal-style posts depicting messages in bottles left by child Bell

#Looking Inside The Lighthouse

In-universe classified documents

#Unseen City Files

In-universe conspiracy theories from a forum dedicated to the supernatural in Megapolis

#Sunken Secrets

Miscellaneous lore/Bonus scenes

Things to be aware of:

"What's your name? Should I call you Bell?"

-I'm not Bell thankfully, so no. I go by Rizzard/Phrog/Aesti/Atmos depending on where you know me from. But for this blog's sake, you can call me Reef.

"What are your pronouns?"

-Surprise me.

"Do you do commissions?"

-Nope. Maybe in the future?

"Do you do requests?"

-Depends on my mood. You're welcome to send requests to draw stuff, so long as it's sfw and all. Please be aware that I make no guarantees that I will actually do it.

"Do you do art-trades?"

-Same as the requests. Please let me know first if you want to do an art-trade with me, so we can avoid miscommunication lmao.

"Do you take asks?"

-HELL YEAH (I might not respond to it immediately tho-)

"Are you okay with people taking inspiration from your OCs?"

-So long as it's just inspiration and not straight up plagiarism, then why not? I'd be a hypocrite if I said no. You don't even have to credit me, since you've already added your own twist to it.

"Are you okay in general?"

-No.

[irulaan]

CHAPTER ONE ; HEAVEN ON EARTH

RAPHAEL X FEM!ANGEL!READER

⤷ chapter summary: Tav walks a delicate line, guarded by an angel's presence yet haunted by dreams of a devil. warnings for this chapter. mentions of mystra. blood and other fluids. astarion. i don’t use physical descriptors with the angel. word count. 4k.

back to masterlist / next chapter

The Angels exchanged concerned glances as one of them conjured an image of a peculiar crown, its purple magic radiating an imposing aura even in illusion. An illusion of power. They recognized the opulent jewelry immediately, aware of its destructive potential, appealing to the ambitious and those who dream of self-destruction.

In the tranquil confines of the garden, the atmosphere grew tense as the oldest among them acknowledged the significance of the artifact. Their collective knowledge of magical relics whispered tales of devastation and chaos brought by such items. One of them stepped forward to examine the artifact, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "Does this belong to the Weave? To Mystra?" She asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Some tilted their heads in contemplation, offering no sympathy to the ones not aware of the power of such thing.

"The Crown of Karsus doesn't exactly belong to the Weave—or Mystra, by extent," replied an Aasimar who had traversed Faerûn extensively, and had seen and heard about these men-crafted things. Her tone is grave. "Now it resides in its homeland, and that is cause for great concern."

A sense of unease settled over the group as they pondered their next steps. "What can we even do? It's beyond our reach. Shouldn't this concern the Goddess of Magic? Surely, she has a plan?"

A sudden breeze swept through the celestial creatures gathered in one of the smallest gardens of the second circle of heaven. Though rarely used for discussions of importance, the ancient angel deemed it a suitable location, free from any imminent threats that could jeopardize their safety in heaven. They chose this secluded spot to prevent any speculation or unwarranted interference from other beings—a precautionary measure against potential dangers. Despite the fact that two fallen angels now held dominion over circles of Hell, their existence was accepted as an inevitable recurrence.

"Of course Mystra has a plan," scoffed the angel holding the image of the crown, a devout follower of the Goddess. It was not uncommon for angels to serve deities or aspire to do so.

Raising an eyebrow, another celestial's wings quivered with uncertainty. "Then it's her problem. And it's fixed."

"To kill her chosen one?" One of the celestials laughed, her bright blonde hair dancing in the gentle breeze. "Humans are... unstable, and I wouldn't trust them. I'd say this concerns us too," Her voice was strong, as she added with a soft yet cautionary tone. Having witnessed countless tragedies across various planes of existence, she understood the potential ramifications of seemingly minor events. Though they were shielded within the confines of Heaven, danger always lurked on the horizon—whether in the form of wars, fiendish creatures, or even threats from humans.

"What's the situation on Earth?" Another inquired.

One raised their eyebrows. “Where’s the crown now?”

The earth-born, now an Aasimar, responded softly, “It's in the hands of some cultists. They're threatening an entire city.”

“And the stones?”

The Aasimar stood in silence for a moment. “The cultist... The Dark Gods have their chosen ones... Bhaal chose Orin the Red, whose mother was also a follower of him; they've both been manipulated by the mortal turned God... Bane has Lord Enver Gortash, and Ketheric Thorne has been resurrected by Myrkul.”

“—Jergal was such an idiot!” One of them interjected.

Many sighs were heard. “Maybe Mystra is going to need a hand…”

“But is the crown safe in her hands?”

“She's already powerful—“

One of the youngest angels chimed in, “But she can’t stop this. How can we even call her a Goddess?”

There was a moment of silence as they locked eyes. The air crackled with tension, a palpable anticipation lingering between them. The energy of the angels clashed, swirling in a chaotic dance instead of harmonizing as one. Then, unexpectedly, another pair of wings fluttered against the breeze.

"I've been having strange dreams," Came from behind them.

It was some battle angel. Her armored body and wings emitted an eerie sound as she approached the group, unaware of their reunion until her innate ability to reach beyond brought her there.

"I've seen him wielding his father's sword, his head crowned by that dangerous jewelry, the Crown of Karsus," She rushed out her words, her voice filled with urgency. "I've been haunted by his black sclera and bright demon pupils. He's so hungry for power—I can feel it. But it's not by his own merit, no... it's an earth-born that hands him the crown," she continued, her tone growing more desperate as her fellow celestial beings regarded her with nonchalance. The mother of angels had recently given birth to a new offspring, and her own conscience urged her to be protected. She felt her vulnerability, having experienced so little of the universe's dangers.

It was clear to everyone that she was referring to Mephistopheles’ son, as the Archduke was the previous keeper of the crown. He had hidden it among his most prized possessions until it mysteriously vanished—stolen, perhaps, though he remained largely silent on the matter. But that happened many years ago.

"The crown could crush a cambion's soul—as they still retain some semblance of humanity, even if he's the infamous son of Mephistopheles," One continued, their voice tinged with concern.

"And he doesn't care much... as human as he may seem, he has carnal urges and can be easily manipulated, even by something as simple as an incubus—his father's idea," Another angel chimed in, rolling his eyes dismissively. "I don't believe he's the real threat here."

“But what about the human who could deliver the crown to him? Isn’t she significant?” The battle angel interjected. She was often wise, but now a few eyes squinted at her recklessness and unconventional approach. “Isn’t she just a human? How many mortals possess the knowledge and bravery to trade with a devil? True, he may be a cambion, but his lineage, as the son of Mephistopheles, changes everything.”

It was as clear as crystal that the Archduke’s son posed no threat to anyone, not even the lowliest celestial creature. Cambions were as frail and wicked as their human counterparts..

But some were intrigued; “Is it a possibility?”

“Indeed, everything is within the realm of possibility,” she responded sternly. Her voice commanded attention and obedience, as if she were the embodiment of authority itself. Having led thousands of battles, guiding celestial beings to both hell and victory, her words held weight.

“Then assign her a guardian angel,” the ancient one suggested plainly. “Your most recent daughter would be suitable. She possesses a strong moral compass and lacks the hint of corruption that deems her vulnerable.”

The battle angel was taken aback. Her most recent daughter had endured the icy clutches of hell, but she was ill-prepared to take on the role of guardian angel, despite her uncorrupted moral compass.

“I... I'm not sure... What if we're underestimating the gravity of this situation?” interjected the follower of Mystra.

The ancient one rolled her bright blue eyes, emitting a quiet, almost haunting laugh. “Mystra herself? She knows the potential devastation the crown can unleash, yet her only plan is to eliminate her former lover with it? Assigning a guardian angel to a lost human seems equally absurd.”

“I–I don’t think… What if we’re sub-estimating this matter?”, interrupted the Mystra follower.

"I think we should help he–"

A deep rage seized the ancient being, wounds from encounters with numerous deities and creatures flaring up within her. "I don’t and won’t ever serve a God! They’re equal to devils… they sicken me! She’s no good even when she tries to be," she declared vehemently, her frustration palpable, as there was nothing else to do; everything was beyond their reach. "This is everything we’re doing!"

A tense silence enveloped them as they exchanged stares; none dared to speak further. The ancient one commanded both respect and fear.

With that, the conversation took a pivotal turn, setting fate on a new and uncertain path. Angel wings would soon be stained with blood, as they ventured into uncharted territories.

Mornings at the camp unfolded in tranquil serenity, with birds harmonizing their soft melodies into the air. Tree branches swayed gently in the warm summer breeze, infused with a familiar hint of coastal saltiness. Despite the dying warmth of the campfire and the wilting flowers, the atmosphere exuded a profound sense of peace, a harmony between life and death. It was still as everything should be, they were at the right place.

Yet, this idyllic scene was shattered by the piercing cries of birds and the ominous crack of breaking branches. Something—or someone���was hurtling through the sky, falling toward the earth with alarming speed. The sudden change of scene jolted half of the camp awake, their senses reeling from the unexpected disturbance. They didn’t even have the chance to get out of their tents as a loud crash was heard outside — it was definitely someone that collided against the dirt… against the cold ground.

Emerging from his tent, Astarion furrowed his brow at the commotion, silver hair tousled in disarray. His gaze fell upon the figure amidst the dirt, unmistakably an angel fallen from the heavens. "Well, isn't this a delightful turn of events?" he remarked wryly, a hint of amusement lacing his words. "As if our situation couldn't become any more... interesting."

She lay sprawled on her stomach, her once pristine wings now splayed out to shield her body, though futilely, from the impact of the fall. They appeared broken in places, blood seeping from beneath the soft feathers, showing the tender skin under. Her celestial garments, once immaculate, were now stained with dirt and torn by branches, though they still provided ample coverage. Despite the damage, there was an otherworldly elegance to her form, juxtaposed with the stark reality of her injuries. It was both heavenly and apocalyptic.

Shadowheart cautiously approached the fallen angel, her keen eyes scanning for signs of injury. "I believe her wing is... damaged," she observed, concern evident in her voice.

Astarion's senses were overwhelmed by the sweet yet invigorating aroma emanating from the angel's presence. If the blood of a devilish creature repulsed, then surely an angel's blood was akin to tasting the very essence of heaven. "Indeed," he murmured, his gaze lingering on the wounded wing. "Heavenly indeed—I mean the smell." The temptation to partake of such divine essence was almost palpable, stirring an unfamiliar hunger within him.

Gladly, Karlach interrupted his ruminations. “Do you think heaven has a certain smell?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course, and it’s this,” Astarion declared, gesturing towards the fallen angel. “Can we keep her? I bet she’d make the best companion.”

Gale interjected, “She's a celestial being, you can't keep her.”

“Ah, Gale! Boo, spoilsport…” the vampire huffed.

Gale, not unfamiliar with the presence of angels or gods, approached the scene. As the chosen one of the Goddess of Magic, he had encountered many celestial beings before. It was only natural for him to share his knowledge with the party. "She might be an angel, or perhaps an Aasimar... I haven’t seen one in person since…” He paused, lost in thought for a moment. “Mystra had some followers who were angels, battle angels. But she doesn’t seem to fit that description... she's not wearing any armor,” he observed, moving closer to the celestial being. “I believe she's an angel.”

“Should we wake her up?”

“Mmm, I don’t really know…” Gale kept his eyes on the angel, as Shadowheart was examining her wounds. “Angels are very powerful creatures and we don’t know if we are on her wrong side”

Astarion cried, “And why on earth would we be on her wrong side! We are the victims here!”

The wizard gestured for Astarion to lower his tone, a silent reminder of caution. “She probably doesn’t know any of us… and their intelligence and wisdom are great. If we lie, she'll likely discern the truth, which wouldn’t bode well for us.”

“If she ever wakes up, we can ask for her assistance… Wouldn’t she be helpful?” Shadowheart frowned, muttering incantations for a healing spell.

“But what if she attacks us?! It would be a shame to kill her!”

They were all well-versed in the workings of deities and celestials; they don’t simply appear by chance, something Astarion seemed oblivious to. His bitterness toward them fueled by his unanswered pleas to the gods. Shadowheart attempted to ground their thoughts. “I do believe she could be helpful – I mean, angels. If she just fell here… I don’t know. I’m certain she’s here for another reason.” There was a moment of silence. “We should wait.”

“Where’s Tav?”

Not a second passed before they heard someone take a deep breath. "Where is she?!" The angel had awakened in a frenzy, fluttering her wings and desperately searching for something.

Astarion frowned, glancing at the sky as if seeking guidance, then turned to Gale. "So... does that sound like a good or bad angel?"

If Gale hadn't been a bit nervous about the angel, he might have chuckled. "There's no such thing as a bad angel," he replied. Astarion rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by Gale's optimistic view. Another ‘too good for everyone and everything’ creature. He already hated her. "She's looking for someone... but there's no malice in her voice."

The angel rose to her feet, her wings still and her expression twisted in pain. "I need to find her... where is she, Gale of Waterdeep?"

Even though Gale had encountered angels before, he was taken aback. After all, he was just a humble human. He struggled to find the right words as the angel's gaze seemed to penetrate his soul. She couldn't be a follower of Mystra if she wasn't connected to the Weave.

“Are you an… an angel… how does–how do you know me?” He muttered utterly confused.

"I'm not asking again," the angel stated firmly, conjuring a spell that would have taken Gale at least a few minutes to prepare.

Astarion ran away, “For fuck’s sake! Can’t we have an uneventful day?! What the hell is an angel looking for–?”

Tav found herself ensnared in the tumultuous grasp of a restless slumber, her breaths quickened and jagged amidst the confines of what scarcely passed for a bed. Each twist and turn brought no solace, only exacerbating the disarray of her unkempt hair, while beads of sweat cascaded like raindrops upon her furrowed brow and the scant linens beneath her. This nightmarish feeling was all too familiar, since she and a bunch of other outcasts started this long journey to take back and free Baldur’s Gate.

Outside her sanctuary, an ominous silence permeated the air, punctuated by the eerie whispers of the soft wind that whispered strange secrets to those willing to listen. Abruptly, her eyes snapped open to a realm devoid of company, bathed solely in the warm luminescence of the sun gentle embrace and the waning embers of a dying campfire.

Within the realm of her troubled dreams, a conflagration blazed with an intensity that threatened to consume her very essence. Amidst the infernal glow, she beheld orbs of darkness, each adorned with irises of bright yellow that fixated upon her with an unsettling intensity. Veins of pulsating blood marred their scarlet-hued skin, crowned by a profusion of horns behind the intoxicating smoke. The acrid scent of their presence assailed her senses, though its origins remained unknown, forgotten.

At times, she attributed the noxious aroma to the campfire's burning branches.

Yet, in her state of desperation, bereft of recourse and ensnared by the flames' searing embrace, she found herself imprisoned within the confines of her own subconscious. Even as she cast her gaze skyward, the high ceiling above was adorned with ostentatious frescoes, each one a macabre manifestation of her innermost fears. Nightmare after nightmare, she fights against the specter of impending demise, with the allure of death’s sweet kiss looming ever closer.

It was not until the faint aroma of the somewhat familiar freshly cut lawn covered with rain, mingled with the soft rustle of giant wings that she found reprieve, her eyes fluttering open to behold a vision of winter white feathers that offered, in some way, sanctuary.

Only then did she emerge from the clutches of her torturing dream, liberated from the gaze of those infernal orbs, and welcomed into the embrace of wakefulness. The embrace of life.

It was morning once more… and the first thing she heard was Astarion’s screams.

Still groggy from sleep, she emerged from her warm tent, gripping a blade in her skilled hand. The sun's rays blinded her momentarily as they hit her face. "I thought we were going to be safe here—what?" She paused, her gaze falling upon the celestial being, whose wings shimmered under the light.

Pointing directly at Tav, the celestial spoke in a soft and delicate tone, attempting to ease the noticeable stress and fear on Tav's face. "You are the one I'm looking for. I'd recognize you even in a crowded room." The angel introduced herself by her given name, emphasizing that being in her presence wouldn't transform Tav into an Aasimar. "I haven't been authorized to do so. But I’m here nonetheless…"

"I don't understand... Why?" Tav questioned, confusion evident in her voice.

"Because you're playing an important part in the present event," the celestial explained calmly. "You're going to need as much help as you can gather. Even if your companions are resourceful, they might lack morals or be blinded by deities and religion." She gestured towards Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, and Shadowheart as she spoke, unapologetic about her words. "I'm not insulting them; they're sincere, but they're only human, even as chosen ones."

Tav frowned, processing the information. "Are you always going to be around me? Following us around?" Her intuition was failing her, but she sensed that the angel meant no harm.

"I'm no babysitter," the celestial replied firmly. "You'll make your own decisions. I won't try to manipulate you like others might. But I offer insight and guidance when needed."

"You seem so blunt to speak, haven’t you been around humans, dear?” Astarion's bitterness tainted his words as he got uncomfortably close to the angel, attempting to intimidate her with his presence.

Her hand glided gracefully across his cheek in a fleeting touch. “Why should I sugarcoat my words, vampling? I do not seek approval from mortals.” Despite the sting in her words, her gentle tone didn't enrage Astarion.

Attempting to maintain his composure, Astarion pressed on, “Aren’t angels naive and easy to manipulate creatures? How can you be a compass? You have been living in a fantasy bubble.”

“Is that what you think about me?” The celestial directed her gaze at Tav, though Astarion was the one who spoke.

“He’s a… friend. I trust in him,” Tav stuttered. “They’ve been wandering this world for longer than me… So I think – I haven’t even read or heard anything about angels.”

The angel nodded, sensing the sincerity in Tav's words, a sentiment she reciprocated. "I am here solely for you, with no other purpose in this world but to do good and eradicate evil... devils and demons," she declared, causing Tav's companions to narrow their eyes in suspicion. "I can walk by your side without these."

In the blink of an eye, her celestial essence vanished. Her once-dirty wings disappeared, and the halo of ethereal light surrounding her faded from sight, blending her seamlessly with the earth-bound creatures around her. She appeared just like one of them.

Tav smiled warmly. "There's plenty of room in the camp," she offered. But Astarion couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance.

The tension in the air didn't escape the angel's keen senses. "It wouldn't be wise. I don't want to wake up in a pool of blood," she stated bluntly, her gaze unwavering. "Your bonds aren't strong enough... You're alone."

Tav held firm. "I trust them... Despite their differences, we're all united by the same goal."

But nothing could sway the angel from her decision to keep her distance from the group — not from Tav. "Whenever you need me, I'll assume this appearance to walk by your side," she assured Tav, handing her a small, irregular crystal-like artifact. Inside, a flow of energy danced in a spectrum of light colors. Its sharp edges spoke of its potential power. "Use this if you need me. We can't be summoned like devils, so use it wisely. It will take me a few minutes to reach you."

The air changed, charged with such energy that seemed to ripple through the forest. The earth was anticipating the departure of the celestial being from Faerûn. In her absence, a palpable void lingered, leaving behind so many questions. It was as if a fleeting dream had slipped away, leaving behind only fragments of memory and a lingering sense of uneasiness.

Despite the many centuries by his side, the incubus still found amusement in their playful banter, a dance of manipulation and desire that always seemed to end in the same and routinely climax. But this time was different, a palpable tension hung in the air, casting a shadow over their usual exchanges. There was something stirring within his master, a hunger for power and dominion that surpassed anything they had encountered before. Even if his House of Hope filled with weeping tortured souls was the greatest evidence of his desires.

As he watched the demon lord with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, the incubus couldn't shake the feeling that they were on the brink of something great. With a sly grin, he leaned closer, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. "Back to meddling in the affairs of mortals, are we? Oh, this should be delicious."

The Devil shot him a withering glance, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Yes, I'm planning to visit... earth," he replied curtly, his tone laced with impatience.

The Demon's lips curled into a knowing smile as he sensed the simmering excitement emanating from his master. With a languid walk, he approached, the sinuous movement of his tail betraying his amusement. "Ah, I've not felt such excitement in ages," he remarked, his voice dripping with suggestive innuendo. "You know you can always bring me back something as I enjoy earthly delights..."

The Devil's response was swift and harsh. "No."

Undeterred, the Demon chuckled, unfazed by the rejection. He knew his role well, and he relished in it, knowing that the consequences of his actions would never truly be a punishment for him. He knew his master wouldn’t dare to entertain the thought of murdering him—not with the knowledge that he would report to his Father. And even though he didn't harbor fear of his father, it was a strategic move to keep him out of the picture, to avoid any unnecessary complications.

A smug smile twisted the Devil's lips, though it seemed out of place on his typically composed face. "She's naive, too gullible. This will be child's play," he declared confidently.

That single glance, that imperceptible shift in demeanor, was all the incubus needed to know the Devil was lying.

a/n. I’m so excited! First things first, since english isn’t my first language there might be some grammar mistakes; I use grammarly to fix any possible mistake but I’m only a girl living at the end of the world, therefore, we don’t speak english. Then, I use deepl to translate the work to my mother tongue and see if there are any mistakes left, but still, I know it has. Secondly, I know it was looooong and descriptive and probably a bit boring, but I wanted a somewhat proper background; I know I’m probably drifting away from the dnd lore but I hope you can enjoy the story nonetheless. I was mainly inspired by biblical angels, since I think Raphael is pretty much a biblical devil. I had some other inspiration such as the divine comedy, because —again, I think Raphael’s fiendish form was inspired by Dante’s Satan.

Thank you so much for reading this, I’d love some feedback. If you liked this you can reblog or leave a comment or something <3 I’d be so grateful you don’t even image how much.

I like to speak about Raphael and bg3; so this is an invitation jeje.

Kisses, see you around!

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

since you like fictional murder then you are an irl murderer. FPS and GTA players are also murderers. Horror enthusiasts also condone murder. Only you, the “normal” one in the sea of “freaks” doesn’t. Isn’t that right?

Well alright, let's use our braincells here, okay?

When you say that I "like fictional murder" I assume that you're referring to me writing stories with darker themes.

Never ever do I myself say that I want to actually murder these characters. If you pay any lick of attention, you can catch me saying that I feel bad for characters in scenarios- and sometimes I try to push so the tragic event is avoided or seen in some sympathetic light. The basis of Foxy.exe is based on a very gore based Sonic Creepypasta called Sonic.exe, that leans more towards hopeless tales and yep you guessed it -torture porn-, but in most of my explanations of Foxy.exe I make it clear that there's ways to save these characters and that the gore will be minimal because I don't find the overuse of it necessary to the story. It's not torture porn, the concept is mostly in first person perspective, and it's about three poor souls attempting to escape an unpredictable entity. Most gore comes from the antagonist- as without an antagonist there's no story in this scenario!

Am I Pom Pom? No. Am I foXy? Also no.

When you're a proshipper, you're romanticizing, softening, and fetishizing scenarios that replicate real issues that happen. How much of an issue are killer Mascot Games? None. How much of an issue are demonic Fox entities that mark poor nightguards by getting them to play his arcade game? NONE.

But no, somehow because elements of murder are written into a story, that's comparable to someone publicly promoting grooming or rape which happens countless of times and is CONSTANTLY downplayed and not taken seriously which makes REAL PEOPLE'S lives more difficult.

When you say you want to rape something-especially if it's in the image of a child- you are saying you are wanting to rape a child. If you say that you find it cute when fictional fathers groom and touch their confused daughters, you are saying you enjoy watching innocent adults and/or children get groomed!!!!

If I said that I wanted to murder say Jeremy Fitzgerald badly, then yeah- I'd want to murder a guy- but I actually don't treat scenarios and writing like that + I don't write characters disrespectfully.

Yes, you can actually write these things into a story ***carefully*** and it would be clear that your intention is to make a cautionary and tragic point to the story. But you can also not treat it carefully and be like "This is John- he's 45 and rapes his daughter Jane on the basis, but their romance will get better ^w^" EVERYONE knows where your head's at. The audience will see and be affected with how you treat this, and YES- writing can normalize things in people's brains. Stories are literally so important to people that it doesn't just work to the point that one piece of media goes in one ear and comes out the other. People naturally stew and ponder- there's so many sources of evidence to how fictional stories affect society it's not made up.

Hope this helped!