#pain and sadness can also became a path

[solxamber]

hi!! can i req some fic with malleus x reader where his lover suddenly avoid and ignore him for days so malleus confront you one day bc he couldn't handle it anymore. also the reason of avoidance is bc u think you're not fit to be with him since he's a royal and you're just an ordinary human. i just want it to be sooo angsty at start but gets fluff later. thank you!!

Malleus Draconia x reader

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

You hadn’t meant to hurt him, but somehow, that’s exactly what you were doing.

It started a few days ago. A nagging thought had burrowed into your mind, gnawing away at your self-esteem. What are you doing with someone like him? Malleus Draconia, the Crown Prince of Briar Valley, a powerful fae with a lineage as ancient as time itself. And you? Just an ordinary human, with nothing particularly remarkable about you—certainly nothing that made you worthy of standing at his side.

The weight of the difference between you two had grown unbearable, until it became all-consuming.

So, you stopped going to the castle. Stopped seeking him out for walks in the woods, for evening tea beneath the stars. When you did see him by chance, you’d look away, avoid his eyes, excuse yourself before any meaningful conversation could happen. The thought of him realizing how ill-suited you were as his partner terrified you more than anything else.

So, you pushed him away. If you could distance yourself now, it would hurt less later, right?

But then came the quiet moments at night, alone in your room, where the guilt twisted in your gut like a knife. Malleus had always been nothing but kind to you—soft-spoken and gentle, full of unspoken warmth. Yet here you were, hurting him without giving him the chance to understand why.

The third day of your avoidance dawned overcast, as if the sky itself was mirroring the storm within your heart. You hadn’t even made it down the path leading away from your cottage when you saw him—Malleus, standing there like a statue, waiting for you.

You froze. There was no escaping now.

“Malleus,” you managed to breathe, his name heavy on your tongue.

He looked at you, his usual composed expression tinged with something unfamiliar. Worry? Sadness? No, it was deeper than that—something you had never seen before in his eyes. He's hurt.

“Why?” His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken questions. “Why are you avoiding me?”

Your throat tightened. The raw vulnerability in his voice was like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t demanding. He wasn’t angry. He was just…broken, trying to understand what he had done wrong.

“Malleus, I—” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked, just the tiniest bit. “Why are you pulling away from me?”

“I—” You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The green of his eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, filled with confusion and pain. “I’m not like you. I’m just…me. I’m just human.”

Malleus frowned, his brows drawing together in confusion. “I know that. You’ve always been human. Why does that matter now?”

“It matters because you’re Malleus Draconia!” The words spilled out before you could stop them. “You’re royalty, you’re fae, you’re powerful, you’re everything! And I’m…nothing. I can’t keep pretending I’m worthy of being by your side.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Malleus didn’t speak, didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the more your heart shattered. You were waiting for it—the moment he would agree, the moment he would confirm what you had feared all along.

Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“You think you’re not worthy?” His voice was soft, but there was a trembling edge to it, like he was holding back something powerful. “Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?”

You nodded, biting down hard on your lip to keep from crying.

Malleus closed the distance between you in two long strides, his tall figure looming over you but without an ounce of intimidation. Instead, his eyes—glowing faintly, green like the heart of a storm—looked down at you with such tenderness, it was almost too much to bear.

“You truly believe that I am above you? That I see you as lesser?” His voice shook slightly, his usually calm demeanor unraveling. “You think that I would have chosen you, spent all this time with you, if I thought you were unworthy?”

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering against your ribs. “But… I’m just—”

“You are not ‘just’ anything,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “Do you know how long I have watched from the shadows, yearning to be invited, to be accepted? Do you understand how precious you are to me?”

Your chest ached at his words, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Malleus gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch featherlight, as if you were something fragile. His eyes, glowing brighter now, bore into yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. “You are more than enough, just as you are.”

“I…” Tears welled in your eyes, and you hated yourself for it. You had tried so hard to push him away, thinking it was for the best. But now, standing here, with Malleus looking at you like you were the most important thing in his world, all of your resolve crumbled.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Before you could say anything else, Malleus pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle but firm embrace. The warmth of him surrounded you, and for a moment, it was like the world had stopped spinning. The tension that had been suffocating you for days melted away in the safety of his arms.

“I could never think less of you,” Malleus murmured into your hair. “You are the one who makes me feel understood, who treats me as someone beyond a title, beyond power.”

You choked out a sob, burying your face into his chest. His words, his kindness, they were too much. How could someone like him care so deeply about someone like you?

“I don’t care about titles,” he continued softly, his fingers gently threading through your hair. “I care about you—the one who has been brave enough to see me for who I am, not for the crown I wear.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a broken sob. You had been so blind, so consumed by your own insecurities that you hadn’t realized how much you had hurt him in the process.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Malleus whispered, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. “Please… don’t leave me.”

Your heart shattered at the raw vulnerability in his voice. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still streaming down your cheeks. His expression was open, unguarded—so different from the composed prince you were used to seeing. This was Malleus, stripped of all his titles and power, just a man afraid of losing the person he cared about.

“I won’t leave,” you promised, your voice shaking. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Slowly, the storm of emotions that had been swirling around you both began to calm, leaving behind a soft, comfortable silence.

Malleus pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you, his thumb gently brushing away the last of your tears. “You are precious to me,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. “More than you know.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your own lips. “Even when I’m being ridiculous?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Especially then.”

A soft laugh escaped you, the tension finally breaking. “I really was ridiculous, wasn’t I?”

Malleus shook his head, his smile growing just a little. “Not ridiculous. Just… misguided.”

“Well, I’m done being misguided,” you said firmly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “From now on, I’m sticking by your side, whether you like it or not.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—something warm, something hopeful. “I would like nothing more.”

You smiled up at him, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “Good.”

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what came next, no matter how daunting the future might seem—you would face it together.

Masterlist

not sure if it's because I'm on my period but I made myself cry lol

[cryptidghostgirl]

Lovely (Lucifer x Reader)

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Description: Lucifer had heard rumor of the demon with the ability to alter people's memories. Y/n was a marvel and he had her wrapped right around his pinky.

Warnings: Same angst, new target.

Word Count: 1,631

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N This fic is inspired by Spud Cannon's song Lovely. Also don't mind me and my silly little Latin obsessed brain (Lucifer translates to light bringer and is a combination of the latin verb ferre, to bring, and lux, light. I fuck around with that in this.)

That was what had drawn her to him first: the elegance. Lucifer was a graceful man, a beautiful man, a terribly sad person. In retrospect, that should have been Y/n's sign to take a step back but, it is always so difficult to find the right path in the moment. He had seemed so utterly heartbroken, because, as she now knew, he was so utterly heartbroken, and Y/n had thought: maybe I can help?

Her motivations had just been that at first, helping. It wasn't her fault that he was charming and funny and did things that made her want to be more than friends with him with such alarming regularity that it felt like her life was the worst rollercoaster at an amusement park. The one with eight billion sharp turns and uncomfortable seats that left rider's tailbones bruised. It was almost too much to bear.

Lucifer had heard rumors of the demon who had been gifted with the ability to alter people's memories. It had never been gossip that had interested him much until Lilith had left. Suddenly, his mind had felt like a curse. In the throws of despair, he had looked for her, hunted her down. It hadn't take long, he was Lucifer after all. When he was the one asking the questions, few dared to defy.

The shop was a hole in the wall, drenched in the smell of incense and covered in crystals and other odd objects of curiosity. Lucifer could've sworn he recognized the imp horns on the wall but, ignored it. He was there for a reason and asking questions like that were not the path to his end goal.

The demon herself, the famed mystery, was statuesque. She had sat her table in the back of the shop, draped in jewelry made of bones and gold. She had gifted him the first session free of charge.

In order to keep the pain at bay, Lucifer had been required to come to her shop at least once a month. Y/n was a comfort to him, he associated her with the feeling of relief. The two became fast friends.

"Light bringer." she would beckon him in with a smile, "Still counting those forget-me-nots?"

She spoke to him in Latin, in his first eternal language. She weaved images in the air with the smoke from her fires. She was amazing, a miracle worker. Lucifer was grateful for her, for her skill.

Y/n knew the truth behind it. She tried to ignore it, tried to still her raging heart. She knew it was doomed, had seen with her own eyes the way he was still so in love with someone else. Still, when he had asked her on that first date, a year into them knowing one another, she hadn't been able to bring herself to refuse. He had been so sweet, so earnest, so cheesy. He had asked her to be his and she had told him the truth: she already was.

It was a constant state of denial, one big, overwhelming lie she convinced herself was true. In the beginning, Lucifer had been a doting partner. He surprised her with flowers, he always tried to make her smile. It had all stopped the day she had told him she couldn't use her gift on him anymore.

"Why not?" he has asked, alarmed.

"Because, Ferende Lucem (man bringing light), it's not healthy. I can't make things go away forever, just hide them. You still need to deal with them eventually."

Y/n had thought it was time, had figured that two years of dating and three years of knowing one another would be enough. She had been wrong. Lucifer had ceased in his affections in all but name. No longer was she whisked away to the palace, no longer did she wake to one of his creations on her bedside table.

After about a month, she had decided to take things into her own hands. She refused to recede into the gaps he was creating, refused to just let this all go. Y/n loved him, truly. She wouldn't let the love die without a fight.

The palace guards knew her well, had let her in without question. After some searching, Y/n had found Lucifer locked away in his office. The place smelled of despair. He didn't turn from his empty desk at the sound of the door opening.

"Light Bringer." Y/n hummed softly, rapping a knuckle on the already open door, "Counting your forget-me-not's?"

She hadn't asked him that in years, not since before they had gotten together. He lifted his head from his hands, looking over his shoulder just the slightest bit.

"Malefica (witch)." he replied, his voice low and hollow.

Y/n smiled softly at the pet name and entered the room, letting the door stand open in her wake. She approached him, wrapping her arms around his tired shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"Please." Lucifer's voice cracked, "Please take them from me. It's too much, they're too heavy."

Y/n didn't reply, simply nestling her chin into his hair.

"Y/n, please."

"You know I can't do that." she sighed, "It's not healthy."

"This is what is not healthy."

Y/n let go of him and turned his chair so they faced one another. She kneeled down on the ground before him, clasping his hands in her own. His eyes were ringed with red. In that moment, they weren't a fallen angel and a demon, they were just two people. Two people in love and two people housing broken hearts they lied to themselves to stitch back together.

"Lucifer." her eyes searched his face.

It was rare she called him by his true name. The gravity of the moment clung to their skin.

"Lucifer, what am I to you?"

He looked away. Y/n sighed, her heart cracking straight down the middle within the confines of her chest.

"Can I..." she cleared her throat, steeling her nerves, "Am I ever going to be what you're looking for?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped back to Y/n.

"You are what I'm looking for." he insisted, taking his trembling hands from hers and cupping them gently around her face, "You, Y/n, are my sweet little magician, my salve."

"My magic is, you mean."

Lucifer had always been a terrible liar. It was one of the things Y/n loved about him, the way the truth bubbled to the surface of his being. Right now, she wished he could be the best liar on the planet, the best in all of Hell. Right now, she wished she could've been born blind.

Y/n got to her feet, Lucifer's hands hanging in the air where they had held her last. There was no more running, no more hiding from the truth. This was the precipice, the breaking point, the fall.

"You're my salve." he repeated again, his voice soft and sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact as much as he was trying to get through to her.

"Don't lie to me." Y/n demanded, tears pressing behind her eyes, "Don't. Just... just don't."

Oh how she wished she could turn back time, set the clocks to zero.

"You never loved me, did you?"

The question hung unanswered in the air. Y/n had known it for a long time, had known it since the beginning to be perfectly honest but saying it out loud made it all the more real. She was dazed, spinning, out of control.

"You don't love me."

"I wish I could. I'm..."

Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and holding back tears. She looked away.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll see myself out, I guess."

She hoped he'd call out for her, run after her into the hallway, ask if they could try again could start over. Of course Lucifer did no such thing.

For all the things she had helped her clients forget over the years, Y/n understood them even more now than she ever had before. It was complicated. Now she was going to have to reshape her life. If she ever saw him in the street, it would be her duty to pretend she didn't know him. The memories spawned the terror of potential futures, dreams where things worked out, where everything was okay. They sent her mind reeling.

She had known, all along she had feared the worst and feared confirmation of her knowledge. That was the worst part, it hadn't even been a surprise. It had simply been just that, a confirmation of the truth.

The world caved in around her as she walked home, houses and shops and people all blurring together into something undistinguished and undefinable.

Lovely, that's what he was. In all his misfortune, in all his despair, in all his grace. Lovely but oh god, oh god he didn't love her. Not the way she wanted him to. Not the way she loved him.

Y/n pulled the curtains shut to her little shop, moving methodically and without thought. She sat down at the table in the back, before the pot of incense. She lit it.

Not once in all her years had she ever tried to do use her magic on herself. It seemed like a line in the sand, something utterly forbidden. Y/n shut her eyes.

When she reopened them, the world felt different. Time had passed, she could tell it had but her mind refused to give shape to the years.

"So this is what it must feel like." she mumbled aloud, noticing the remnants of her ritual spread out on the table before her, "I wonder what happened."

[kindaasrikal]

I need to see more of the ninja hating or even being afraid of their elements.

Kai was afraid of the power coursing on his veins after the tournament of elements. He fears letting it take over, having it consume him and everything he is to the point he longer was. During the time twins season, he despised his element after being manipulated into believing his parents were on the side of evil. He felt disgusted knowing that his fire-this fire, was tainted. Even more so than he was.

Lloyd felt pride in knowing he was so power at first, to think he was truly someone so special not only to his family, but to the world. But that was also mixed with hate. Hate at the fact that this energy of his was something that would destroy something he loved. Hated knowing it was the reason that his life was ruined before it even began. The hate got stronger, right up until the ‘final battle’ against the overlord. After that, Lloyd felt a sort of appreciation for the power at his finger tips, as he finally had the ability to do something. But during the later seasons, he felt a sort of fear at knowing what he was capable of. Knowing that if he wished, the whole world would bow to his feet.

Nya had always had a small amount of resentment towards her element at first. It forced an identity onto her she didn’t ask for and dropped a path that was so difficult to follow onto her lap. That, mixed in with how this element belonged to a woman she never met, made her feel burdened. But the emotion wasn’t strong. It was only later on did she feel such a strong amount of fear to her element, knowing it can control her the same way she controls it. And yet, she feared how attached she had gotten to it, despite the pain it brought her.

Zane was a terrified mess after his time in the never realm. Knowing his element was capable of such destruction placed a fear within him of every action he took with it. He was so cautious with his element, as he feared if he lost control again he won’t be able to just melt the damn thing to fix everything. However, this fear was something he was familiar with, after he destroyed his body when defeating the overlord. He became terrified of what his element was capable of doing to him rather than others, and he couldn’t even run away from it.

Cole and Jay are exceptions because they felt so cool after realising they could lift rocks or be a makeshift lighting rod. Though if you consider the fact that Cole could he heavily attached to his element as it’s connected him to his mother on a special level and if he ever lost it he would probably have a break down and that Jay could be very reliant on his element to give him worth maybe they do have their own little issues.

This is all very poorly written and also headcanons because i would find it very interesting and very sad if the ninja either hated or were afraid of something so important to them.

[jacevelaryonswife]

You got me losing control

You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

pairing: aemond targaryen x wife!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, english is not my first language. 3,240 words

aemond targaryen masterlist

Your marriage to Prince Aemond of House Targaryen was a blessing to your family. No matter how noble a birth or reputation was before Westeros, the union with a representative of royalty is the summit of relevance, respect and sophistication that a house can achieve — and that's exactly how you and your family came to be seen and treated in Kingslanding.

After the announcement of the engagement, certain rumors about the behavior and appearance of your betrothed stirred some concerns about your future and safety. Prince Aemond was a robust, polite, healthy young man and a prodigy in the art of swords; he was also a lover of books, history, philosophy and very reserved, especially after the incident. On the other hand, he was also described as easily irritable, intimidating, serious, silent, ruthless and deformed.

None of you were presented properly before the engagement, which made the following weeks strange, tense and reluctant, even if the effort to alleviate such a situation was mutual — shy and slow as well. You had not yet decided if he didn’t approve of your choice as his future lady wife or if that (contained, cordial and impatient) was just his way. Courtesy was not a problem until it became excessive as a barrier and you begged the Mother for unhappiness to cross your path. You were a lady more than suitable for a wedding, you considered yourself beautiful, polite and affable within your own limits, any Lord would be more than graced to have you by his side, according to your lady mother, and so you expected your new husband to find it.

Everything seemed to go well in the following weeks after the wedding. Even reserved and mysterious, Aemond was kind, attentive and worried about spending some moments of the day with you beyond duty, the construction of intimacy and trust was still slow, but quite satisfactory — in addition, your dresses and jewelry were more beautiful and extravagant than those of the other ladies. However, there was something that terrified you and your husband from the tip of your toes to the last hair: bedtime.

It was infinitely the strangest and most tense situation that your relationship with the prince experienced. You learned that even in moments where his were nervous and not knowing how to act he would still try to maintain the imposing and ruthless posture, but with easy-to-read nuances that revealed that he hadn’t idea what was happening. The consummation of the marriage was the worst physical pain ever felt in your life, although fast, it was extremely uncomfortable and unpleasant. The second night he bed you was even shorter, as a knock outside the shared room in the service of the queen hindered the hardness of his sword. Already the third time his own virility failed and served to create worrying thoughts about your lord husband's lack of interest in you. What if your appearance didn't please he? Or your inexperience? He was also inexperienced, it couldn't be that.

Everything got worse when your moon blood came and the realization of not being able to generate a fruit with his seed left you highly distressed. What if everything got worse after that? Rumors would certainly circulate about the prince's unfit wife and your fertility would be put in check. Such moods were enough to keep you disturbed, sad and ashamed by the previous and present days of your moon blood, until things suddenly changed when the week passed and the way your husband looked so tempting during the sparing session with Sir Criston Cole made an avid heat bloom all over your body. It wasn't even that warm in Kingslanding but he has never been more handsome and virile before, with his silver hair flying through the courtyard and his clothes leaving his delicious defined body even more manly.

What was going on with you?

You knew that the only thing in your mind was that you couldn't wait to have him alone later.

And that's what you did when you left dinner earlier and have a bold and daring bed linen along with loose hair for your husband. The cream-colored dress was made of the finest silk of lys and fell slightly through your body with long sleeves that didn’t close in your arms and left them exposed when moving. You were with your back to the bed and facing the door, anxiously waiting for the arrival of your prince.

You felt a restlessness composed of warmth and desire to go through your body and focus on your femininity in the eagerness for his touch, from the hands exploring your body, your breasts, for the intimate and carnal connection to be consummated. The reason for that was strange to you, since the other times you were together were nothing short of uncomfortable, but who were you to define the plans of fate?

Therefore, when the door opened and Aemond came across his beautiful wife in exquisite and suggestive clothes, his good eye widened more than usual. He closed the door and remained still, impeccable posture and half-open mouth. Your gaze faltered and faced the floor in the following moments, keeping the room silent for long seconds until the courage inflated your lungs and a request for low approach escaped from your lips.

"Can you come here, husband?" You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

An intense look and a stronger pull of air were the prince's physical response, remaining almost static in front of him. Would it be reluctance or surprise? You didn't want to be pessimistic.

In fact, for a moment Aemond forgot how to pronounce any kind of words and form sentences, totally surprised by your newly discovered boldness. It was a fact that the least developed pillar of your union was the moment of bed, but he thought that time and reading on the subject would enrich the occasion. But not that way, not with his little lady wife looking so tempting in her soft clothes.

The prince was oblivious to what he considered depravity. His only experience with a lady wasn’t planned and appreciated by him and the option to protect himself for his future lady wife was chosen. Unfortunately, the negative side of keeping inequity out of his life was to arrive at the moment of bed without knowing how to give pleasure to his lady correctly. He hated to see the discomfort stamped on your beautiful face every time he pushed his member on your walls, especially in the first copulation. But here he was and there you were willingly giving yourself.

Your steps were smooth and decided in his direction — although there was fear of being renegade — stopping when your hands landed on the chest covered by the black layers of his tunic. "If you don't want to, I'll understand," no, you wouldn't, you would freak out, but it was your duty as a lady and wife to comply with your husband.

Meanwhile, breathing seemed more difficult every second when he noticed the intensity in the way you watched him, a warm and lustful intensity that no other lady ever directed him. He was being cooked inside his own clothes in an almost maddening fire.

"I want this, lady wife," his voice was a few octaves more serious than usual, his good eye so attentive to your gaze that it seemed to pierce your soul.

Only that confirmation made nectar leak from your flower in anticipation. You didn't want to waste any more time, leaning against him, one hand remained on his chest while the other went up the uninjured side of his face, not wanting him to feel cornered.

“May I kiss you, husband?” You asked in a lascivious voice.

“Yes,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding the left side of your face.

The meeting between your lips was calm (inicially), firm and intimate. There was no previous shyness whenever a kiss happened, no, it was incisive, dominant and became increasingly ravishing and warm. There was urgency in the physical search for each other, making the kiss last longer than any other ever exchanged. It was everything you ever wanted it to be, as natural and ardent as a real dream. But it wasn't enough to satisfy your desire for him.

Moving away from your husband's silky and pink lips, you were quick to announce your next wish: "take off my dress, please, I want to do it the right way today."

The usual blue iris was nothing but a memory dominated by the darkness of his pupil. Aemond's large hands landed on your shoulders to slide both straps of the dress to the sides, removing the fabric accumulated at your waist to the floor, exposing your body in full vision to him.

You were burning, longing so eagerly to be touched that you didn’t want to wait for the prince's excessive chivalry and anticipated unbuttoning his tunic without noticing the approach of his hands on your breasts, making you sigh pleasantly in the massage received. It took a lot of effort to keep undressing your husband and not succumbing to his touch on your soft flesh, almost tearing off the piece and throwing it on the floor.

It was not appropriate for a lady to be desperate for such an activity, so even though you wanted to give the same fate to the pants that hid the modesty of your husband, you restrained yourself by analyzing and strumming his delicious abdomen and chest, touching his sculpted shoulders and long arms. His appearence was ridiculously ethereal and perfect.

“Take me Aemond, I need you,” you begged before capturing his lips again, moaning softly when he growled at your mouth and squeezed your ass with one hand and held the part of your head with another, feeling a growing hardness pressing against his stomach.

“I need to prepare you first, my lady,” he whispered hoarsely, now holding on both sides of your hips and looking away shamelessly to your femininity.

Maybe if it weren't for your rush you would have enjoyed a different pleasure that night, with your husband's lips pressed on their petals, but you still didn't know that. However, what he referred to earlier was already understandable to a lady like you.

"No need, I'm ready," you took his hand and guided him to feel your sticky folds, rubbing your juices gently on his thin fingers. After that you didn't spare time to get on the bed and wait for him, who was very quick to discard his shoes and pants to reach you with ferocity. Gods, what was your misdemeaning behavior doing to him?

The prince breathed heavily as he reached your body only to be rotated on the bed so that you would assume him as a mount. “I would like to try otherwise,” you said it with even heavier eyes, putting your hands on his chest to settle above his groin, his virile and thick masculinity rubbing against your mound, making both moan and hands fly at your waist when you rubbed your folds on him.

You have never seemed more tempting than now, with your beautiful body to total contemplation and disposition and so needed by the union of a man and a woman. It was said by Grand Maester Orwyle that ladies usually behave differently after moon blood and can become demanding about their husbands. Aemond properly interpreted the connotation used by the older man, but did not imagine that it would be such a drastic and needy requirement.

And then, deciding to end your suffering, you sat on the bulbous and reddish tip of your prince's sword, ignoring the initial pain and closing your eyes as you felt him stretch your walls so well in an overwhelming and indescribable feeling. "Oh, Aemond!" A breathless moan escaped when it reached his groin after long seconds. The extraordinary pain recurrent at other times was nothing more than an old ghost when you slid easily on its axis, moving up and down in an experimental and tasty constancy.

Aemond tried to keep his usual stoic feature but it was absolutely difficult when your velvety walls made him feel so good. With his mouth ajar and a heavy look, Aemond squeezed his waist in his clamor for him, taking a deep breath with the sloppy and needy rhythm that you established next.

You didn't know if you were doing it the right way, but you really appreciated the feeling of his thick and soft sword brushing against delicious places in your soft flower. It was good enough to make you moan continuously and scratch the milky skin on his chest.

Hoarse and strangled sounds were released by him during the shock of your hips, closing the good eye to focus on not ending early. He was still stunned by the walk of things since his arrival at the shared cameras — positively stunned. He never imagined that fornication could be so delicious for both of you.

Your eyes opened when your body signaled fatigue from the exercise in question, causing you to reduce your jumps and lean against his abs, almost lying on Aemond when purring so that he would take a position above you. You are not sure if it was the fluidity of the movement or the pressure on your thighs that persuaded your senses to the speed with which he took control and stayed on top, face closer to yours than before, almost making your lips brush. Before he could think about moving away, your arms wrapped around his neck and maintained the proximity between your faces. You wanted to kiss him, or rather, you wanted him to kiss you passionately.

“Kiss me, my dragon.”

The restraint that imprisoned Aemond's wild nature broke with the nickname he received and made him capture your lips in a dominant and fierce kiss, the kiss you've wanted so much since you woke up that day. His hips began to move against yours in a much more fluid way than the other times, fucking you with deliciously intense impulses, without roughness or softness.

He started another wet and sloppy kiss, sucking your lips before sinking his face into your neck and growling against his skin, then planting kisses. “Are you enjoying it, my lady?”

“Y-yes, my prince, yes, go faster!” You moaned and supported your legs on his waist, letting out an almost small scream when the speed of your impulses increased, numbing your senses. The nervousness of bringing pleasure to his wife was dissipated when all he could feel was the constant friction and the way you squeezed him so well.

Flying in wet and pleasurable clouds, you gently held the back of his neck and sneaked to smell his soft and well-groomed silver hair, purring with the addictive and extremely refreshing musk. His heart warmed timidly with your intimate gesture, caving your beautiful face with one hand and touching his foreheads to make love to you in such a unique and vehement way that it made your toes curl and a feeling bloom inside, developing with each push of his hips.

"Beautiful," he uttered contemplating his face kneaded with pleasure, "you're fucking beautiful, my lady wife."

“Really?” You knew it was, but you wanted him to affirm it from his own belief.

“Yes, a lot,” He was fucking lucky to have you. He should say that.

The tingling inside increased with his confession, building something you hadn't felt yet. Was it your dreamed apex germinating? The feeling that your friends elected as the best of all Westeros? He captured your mouth again in a firm but sloppy kiss at the same time, swallowing your lascivious moans and whining intensifies with each roll of hips.

His pleasure also became difficult to ignore, although he was proud that the act was being more profitable and lasting than the other times. Profitable? No, I was delusional.

The connection between you became steamy every second, causing your future supplication: "continue husband, please don't stop."

There was a certain affected region that made your fingers squirm and gasps of pleasure fill your chambers (and maybe even out of them). The recurrence with which Aemond brushed against that point amplified your pleasure and anticipated the hot euphoria that took over your body, making your sight clear and legs cage him when your high came devastatingly good and strong, causing tremor in your limbs and an absolute squeeze in your cunt around his masculinity.

It was the best thing that has ever hit your body in fact, and that caused the release of his seed on your core in erratic movements and an erotic grunt. The nature of the sensation seemed primitive, it was primitive, as a need that needed to be satiated more often. Your bodies were sweaty when he fell to your side with his eyes closed from recent pleasure, bubbling in deep flames like the Old Valyria.

A more than satisfied smile adorned your face with how indescribably good you felt. Not only physically, but your husband's performance softened part of your fear, only one part, the other unfortunately ascended in equity and sowed doubts in your heart. What if the sweetness in his words was only in the heat of the moment? What if he doesn't think you're pretty?

After a moment of comfortable silence you decided to risk it in a low, almost weak voice "... did you really mean those things? About my beauty?" Gods, you didn't want to look pathetic.

And he didn't want to be an absent husband. "Yes," he confessed in a hoarse and soporific voice, almost ashamed of his attitude. "I'm sorry I don't say that as often as you deserve to hear. You're breathtaking, ma'am." His good eye filtered all the reactions from your face carefully. “I'm very lucky to have you by my side.

And nothing was more radiant than your smile when he heard such loving and beautiful statements, daring to snuggle against his chest even though he had a thin layer of sweat. "Your words are nothing more than kind, my prince, I am very grateful to hear them," you began, "you are also a very handsome man," you smoothed the bruised side of his face with the palm of your hand, not getting close to the scar to scare him. "Almost ethereal if I may say," your face was close to his, looking tenderly before leaning against his lips in a chaste and soft kiss.

Compliments directed at appearance were never true to Aemond. Not that he received them too much after the incident, but all the rare times were false, regrettable and uncomfortable. His abilities made him a man safe enough not to care mostly about his deformity, however, in his interior of steel and fire there was a fraction that longed for genuine kindness.

"You are very kind, my lady," he said softly, his voice almost breaking, "did you like what happened?" The thought was almost all verbalized at once, taking not only you but also him by surprise.

“A lot. I liked it a lot, Aemond," you purred against him, feeling your interior warm and vibrate again. "If it's not inappropriate, I wish we could do it again."

That would be a long night...

═════════════════════

taglists:

general: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

aemond: @aemondsblog

[xjulixred45x]

OKAY, I know I should work on the requests but I recently discovered the story of the game HADES and as a Greek mythology nerd that I am, I became obsessed, so I ask you to imagine this scenario that unfortunately I have not seen anywhere:

Platonic Yandere Zagreus+ Reader x son! reader

let me explain myself.

Imagine that we are between Hades 1 and Hades 2, where everything seems to be going well for Zagreus and his partner, both living in the Underworld and occasionally visiting the surface, but paying attention to their duties in general.

then they have a son! reader. Their pride and joy.

Zagreus probably thought that it would be difficult to have children without any kind of divine intervention, so seeing that his son was born alive by himself was a great relief and even pride, because it meant that he probably wouldn't have the same problem as his father, he would be freer than him.

son!reader ends up being a child who is super spoiled by his parents thanks to this, filled with affection not only from them, but from the vast majority of the beings in the Underworld, Achilles being a kind of Fun Uncle, Meg a cool teacher, Thanatos and Hypnos second father figures, etc.

even HADES loved this child.

the only problem that son! reader has is that, like his father and mother, he was very curious and stubborn. which led to the incident before he reached puberty.

It was an occasion where Zagreus and Reader were away due to a hasty visit to the surface, so son! Reader, like every child, did what he was told not to do:

get off the safe path.

From then on son! reader can die however you prefer, perhaps by the Hydra, by one of the enemies on the upper levels, by the river Styx, but my favorite excuse is that he found where the titans were and fell from the shock, dying instantly ( drawing a parallel with mythological Zagreus).

And when Zagreus and his partner find out? God, to say that they are devastated would be an understatement for their pain.

Everyone is hurt and sad about what happened, everything feels so silent now, heavy, empty...

to the point that the prayers of the beings of the Underworld reach the ears of Zeus, who in a certain way feels sorry for his brother for having lost a grandson and Zagreus for his son, who decides to apply Dionysus's typenof move, that is, leave the heart of the child in the womb of a human woman.

Zagreus is difficult to convince, he wants Zeus to do this directly with the reader, but if this is the only alternative, he will accept it. More when the mental health of both has also been seriously affected by this(Zagreus having mutilation and Self harm tendencies bc of grief and incapility of die? yep, although he'll probably be very worried if reader starts to seem like them too.)

And so the agonizing wait begins, the weeks go by, the months go by, and Zagreus and the reader are increasingly anxious and impatient. more distressed with a new day of silence at home, with each day of inactivity, with each hour that their child's room is empty...

But the wait pays off, when Zeus gives them the news that the time has finally come for them to go look for their son.

Zagreus takes off at full speed, with various bonuses given by people like Thanatos, Charon, some Olympians, hell, even his father goes easy on him.

and he begins to search quickly with the little time he has on the surface for his son, being guided by Zeus to where his son was.

When Zagreus was beginning to weaken and felt that he had come in vain, he heard it. a laugh, a small voice that he hadn't heard in a long time.

His son...alive again...

Here things are separated a little. two different scenarios.

1: SON! READER REMEMBER HIS LIFE LIKE GOD

This case is the fluffiest of all and definitely the least yandere.

when son!reader sees Zagreus he's running out to meet him, melting the godling's heart, relieved that his son is not only back in body, but in spirit.

They both return to the Underworld and receive them all with great joy, they ruffle the child's hair, give him gifts, Dionysius may even throw a party in honor of his return.

but it doesn't mean there isn't Yandere stuff.

Zagreus becomes incredibly overprotective of son! reader, to a disturbing degree, now practically does not leave him alone. the same with reader. If he is not with one, he is with another.

they make son! reader accompanies them everywhere and can only play with their supervision, only them, not anyone else. because the previous one was very effective last time.

I think the reader would use the death of son! reader like an auk to keep him fearful and thus avoid another incident. in general both being very obsessive with this new opportunity to have their son back.

Although it's not so bad, Zagreus and the reader continue to bombard him with love and affection, bringing him gifts, reading to him or telling him legends, even now they take him to the surface with them! It is within the scope of a happy ending, they could overcome their unhealthy tendencies over time...I hope.

The only way in this scenario for both of them to become yandere as is is if some person on the surface is "badly influencing" son! reader to be more independent or worse, go to the battlefield.

There Zagreus will directly get rid of said influence with the help of Thanatos.

Now, the most intense and interesting scenario.

2: SON! READER DOES NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT HIS LIFE AS ZAGREUS'S AND READER'S SON

Imagine that you are an apparently normal child with some strange characteristics (like maybe red feet or heterochromia), living peacefully with your parents that you have known all your life as a mortal... and FROM NOWHERE the fucking GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD comes to tell you who you are HIS child and not of your PARENTS....

practically this reader.

Zagreus would believe that after having spent so much time among mortals his son has forgotten his true lineage and even finds his innocence cute with the whole thing, but they must return to their TRUE home as soon as possible.

Since he is a god, A SON OF HADES, even if the reader's parents love him, they cannot fight for him, so they give him to Zagreus.

Zagreus is overjoyed with this, reader is so confused.

because after all he does NOT know these people, he does not know this supposed father who ripped him away from his birth family, he does not know his supposed mother who greets him with tears in her eyes when they arrive at the damn Underworld.

He doesn't know any of the gods who welcome him warmly, who ruffle his hair, who call him cute nicknames, who seem to have known him all his life when they don't.

reader is feeling like some kind of glorified pet. an empty replacement. This is not his house, his HOME.

while Zagreus and reader think that their son must be feeling very shocked by all the information and come home that they simply shower him with more love. much to the child's displeasure.

If the reader continues to insist that he doesn't really remember them, Zagreus will probably dismiss it as something temporary, which is simply the adjustment after an event as traumatic as dying (he gets it, seriously! he dies every now and then, but he doesn't want to think about on what it must have been like for his son).

while reader will try with Thanatos to make him remember things from the past, show him family photos and portraits that they made before the tragedy, his room, his old toys and stories behind them. all with so much love that the reader feels uncomfortable, as if he were usurping the place of their true son.

I think the reader would be especially uncomfortable if mom!reader were also a goddess, he feels VERY intimidated by both of them, but when they show this very...vulnerable and loving side...he doesn't know what to think.

In this scenario, both Zagreus and reader are more overtly manipulative and yandere. Zagreus can use his thousands of failed attempts to try to get out of the underworld on his own so that reader doesn't even think about doing so, while reader uses the reader's death as a way to guilt trip him so he doesn't leave them.

The reader feels bad for them and their son, but is very afraid of them. More after seeing Zagreus angry.

At first they would see Reader's attempts to escape as something "cute" thinking that he was "imitating young Zagreus" and was not serious. Of course, if he ran into a shade, Zagreus would appear and take him home. simply a game.

But when they were lost for long periods of time, they had a panic attack thinking that the accident had happened again. and when Zagreus found the reader, on a higher level and with scratches, he was furious, almost killing all the beings on that level.

It was enough to solidify the reader's decision to want to leave. This man was not only terrifying, he was dangerous.

I think that in this case there would be characters like Meg, Patroclus, Odysseus, even Thanatos himself who realize the reader's discomfort around his "parents" and even become his only allies in his escape attempts.

but because they isolate him so much, so much to the point that he can only leave the house of Hades if it is with them, no one else, and they see the desire to RUN in his face. They feel compassion for him.

This is how a new story in Hades begins. As a reader you will have to face many powerful deities, shadows, and more to escape not only from the Underworld, but from your delirious new family.

but Zagreus would not be himself if he were not stubborn and persistent . I wouldn't let him run and escape easily. not this time.

Could reader do it? let the game begin.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

What can i Say? I'm obsessed over games i will NEVER get to play :,) but at least i'll try to see gameplays.

[autistichalsin]

So here's a hot take.

I see a lot of people saying that it would be fun to have a way to make Halsin worse. And I agree that it would totally be cool to be able to corrupt Halsin!

However, I don't think his canon arc would make the most sense leading to the Shadow Druids. Those are the tiny hints Larian dropped, yeah- the Shadow Druids being sent by Ketheric to corrupt the Grove to make them less of a threat against him, the Shadow Druids noting they are going to Baldur's Gate next, Halsin's brief moment of doubt that they were right. And a lot of other media love playing the ecoterrorist angle. So I can see why it's where a lot of people's minds go.

But from a characterization standpoint, I can't see it. Halsin dealt with the Shadow Curse for over 100 years. It cursed his home, and his childhood best friend who was the physical embodiment of nature. If he survived literally 100 years of darkness without being particularly moved to join the Shadow Druids, I just don't see how the sufferings of Baldur's Gate would push him into it. Those are much less personal stakes.

So, if we were to get a darker Halsin route, I would propose one of two things;

1. Introduce a failure state for act 2 that doesn't result in Halsin staying behind in the Shadowlands.

The easiest thought is that maybe doing part of the quest but not finishing it would result in him staying behind, seeing that there is hope to break it now, while doing nothing makes him think he's no closer to solving it than he was before, so things are unlikely to deteriorate while he goes with the player to solve the Absolute crisis.

Or if we wanted to make it REALLY awful, make it possible for Thaniel and/or Oliver to actually die, breaking Halsin's heart completely in the process. With his friend gone for good, his last hope gone, and with the Dead Three to blame directly, Halsin could become clouded by grief. Maybe it makes his story mirror Ketheric's in a sad way; Ketheric lost Isobel and became a monster, Halsin loses Thaniel and, while not becoming a monster per se, takes a darker, extremist path to avenging him, vowing to let nature reclaim Baldur's Gate in his memory.

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that there's nothing personal enough in Baldur's Gate proper to inspire such a radical shift. Canon, as it is, lets us see his momentary temptation and go "yeah makes sense" but there needed to be far more if I was going to buy his transformation to a Shadow Druid. This would provide that deep pain that cults are so good at preying on.

2. Similar to the above, but pushing it back to act 1. Make it so that the Grove raid, instead of being triggered by the player directly, can also be triggered by inaction; maybe once the player speaks to Minthara/frees Sazza, a timer starts for long rests, and at the conclusion, if the leaders aren't killed, the goblin leaders show up at the Grove. Halsin being freed already lets him fight on your side to stop them, while Halsin still being a captive lets the raid complete.

Similar to the above, Halsin's rage and grief at the defilement of nature then drives him into it. At first he just seeks out revenge, but later, after seeing the Shadow Curse and having those particular wounds opened back up (this one could proceed the same as canon) he gets pushed into something more methodical.

Shadow Druid Halsin could be a lot of fun IMO, but we would need something more than we have to establish a motive. Seeing sadness in a city for the first time wouldn't be enough to cause Halsin to drop every principle he has about nature being a balancing act between good and evil, darkness and light, order and chaos. For him to be pushed so firmly to an anti-society view, he would need to witness something far worse. So those are the two scenarios I can think of that would give just the little push, the sense of personal, direct harm, that would cause Halsin's morals to shift so drastically.

[iouinotes]

Heroic Betrayal | Luke Castellan (part 1)

SPOILER FOR THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS SERIES AND THE BOOKS

pairing: Luke Castellan x female!reader

show: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

warnings: dark!character, betrayal, implied sexual content, heavy angst, kidnapping

word count: 5,8k

summary: When Luke switches to the dark side, he tries everything possible to win you for him.

a/n: so as the show comes to an end (dont cry dont cry dont cry), I thought I would finally post this :)))

read part 2 here

"I'll find you!" his voice echoes through the forest, my laughter much louder than I intend to. But that´s just how it always goes. It's our own little tradition.

Every year when the camp starts again and we meet after the holidays passed, we play hide and seek in the dangerous forest of the half-blood camp. The creatures usually don't come across our path, in recent years it has rarely happened, that we actually had to defend ourselves against them.

Once it was an angry dryad, who threw branches at me (she had a crush on Luke and wanted revenge, but since I could understand her feelings and felt sad for her, we sorted it out).

Another time we were spotted by some camp members, who made fun of us, but Luke must have said something to them later, because we haven't been bothered by these troublemakers since.

It is always the same pattern, but each time there is still something special about it. We have grown, became more mature (I think), and have more and more experience about the struggles in life.

So being able to just let go for a few moments and being completely alone with him is probably the best thing to keep myself sane (even if he drives me a little bit crazy with the love I hold for him).

But a lot has changed recently.

It all started when rumors spread, that Zeus' lightning bolt had been stolen by Poseidon's son. And then the most supportive, bravest, sassy kid in the world showed up here. Percy Jackson. Ever since I met him, even though it's not his fault, there's been war going on. The gods are angry, the monster attacks became worse and again, rumors about the oldest, most powerful titan Kronos reached the camp.

It scared and frightened many people, including me. That's why we've been training harder and stay awake, even when the stars are shining, so that we can prepare for any catastrophe. To be able to fight.

My mother is the goddess Demeter, my father a simple man. I adore them both, even though my mother isn't one of my closest contacts. But I never really held that against her, because at least she decided to acknowledge me as her daughter. After all, it's a privilege that not everyone gets. My siblings and friends at camp are important to me, but the world is changing and so is everything around it.

The only stability I have left is my boyfriend Luke.

If I had to rely on one person in the whole world (and by that I also mean the underworld), it would be him.

He's been my best friend since I arrived at this camp. We've been together through ups and downs, I know every side of him and he knows everything about me too. Many of the people here are like blank pages to me, but not him. He is like my favorite book, that lays open to me and allows me to read each letter individually. Just as I know every of his dreams, every secret, every truth and every lie. He is my protector, my hero in every dark night and every bright day. Without him, I don't even know who I am. He is a part of me and my heart wouldn't be whole without him.

I watched him grow up. From the small, thin boy whose eyes hid so much pain and sadness to the strong, soulful leader he is today.

His beauty cannot be influenced by anything, he is like my very own sun, without him I could not survive.

I wouldn't want it any other way though.

Now, I'm hiding behind a tree with my back pressed against the bark and I am able to hear the cracking and swinging of the branches.

I smile so wide, that my cheeks start to hurt, when I hear his voice calling. My heart is beating in my throat, but it's not just the adrenaline of not getting caught. It's because of my love for him, which is so strong that sometimes I'm afraid of it. But only in the moments when I realize that nothing, but him is my biggest flaw. I think I would do anything for him.

Then I concentrate again and listen to the sounds around me. But his voice has fallen silent and I don't hear his footsteps anymore.

My eyebrows furrow, confused I try to look around the tree and search for an orange t-shirt. Likely together with his slim body, biceps, beautiful face and wonderful personality.

But when I want to withdraw again, it's already too late. A branch breaks behind me and before I can move I'm pushed against the tree from behind.

I immediately feel his body against mine, hear the laughter in his voice and listen to his strained breathing. His hands wrap around my body and turn me towards him, so that we are now face to face.

He's taller than me and as I look up, I feel the familiar fluttering feeling in my chest. I am so in love with him.

He grins triumphantly at me and I lean against the tree, smiling kindly.

"Found you, princess." The light reflects in his brown eyes and some of his curls are laying wildly on his head. He looks like an angel.

"I made it easy for you." My voice teases him and when he leans in so close to me, that our lips almost touch, I forget how to think properly. A habit I can't change. He's just so captivating.

"Yeah? You think I wouldn't have found you otherwise? Funny. I remember that in the last few years, I always was the winner of our little game." His lips brush mine, I want nothing more than to kiss him. But he knows that, which is why he slowly pulls back, when I start to lean forward.

When I want to complain, he puts his hand around my waist and pulls me into his chest. My knees almost give out, I feel so intoxicated by his presence.

"I-I wanted you to find me." My voice whispers quietly.

His eyebrows rise in mock surprise.

"Then I guess, I can claim my prize without feeling bad." In the next second, his lips are on mine and I'm unable to do anything, other than kissing him back. I wrap my arms around his neck and enjoy the warmth that radiates from him. He sets my heart on fire.

While pushing me against the tree, I've completely forgotten about, he lets his hands wrap possessively around my waist. Digging his nails into my hips, to keep me grounded. Otherwise, I would probably get lost in those sensations.

Luke kisses in a way, like it's the last time he'll have the chance. (As if I would ever want to keep him from doing that).

He's passionate, my body feels like it's on fire and the heat inside me feels so good, that I want more. I can never get enough of him and he knows it. He grins against my lips, but he doesn't break the kiss. I think he secretely loves knowing how much he can mess with me, with just a few kisses.

My hands find his hair and pull him closer to me, our chests touch and his breathing mingles with mine.

It is wonderful and so precious, I would refuse any gift from the gods just to be close to him.

When he pulls away from me, our bodies are still close. My eyes open and look dreamily into his, our gazes reflect a familiarity and love that is like nothing I have ever experienced.

He smiles at me, pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear and leans himself against me. His fingers stroke the exposed skin of my pulled-up shirt.

"I've missed you." If my heart hasn't melted before, it has now. I give him a kiss on the cheek and hug him, we stand in our embrace for a moment. Enjoying each other's closeness, the calm feeling until the next chaotic situation happens.

"Now we are together again. Only that matters." It's quiet around us and when I close my eyes for the second time, I hear his fast heartbeat. I have to supress a smile.

The wind is the only thing I hear until his voice breaks the silence.

"Something will happen soon. Something big." The peaceful atmosphere is threatened by his words and when I look at his face again, I see his worried eyes.

I sigh, but then nod to agree with him. "I thought about that too, it feels different. Like something is coming our way, that we can't control."

His fingers stroke my cheek and for a moment, his face holds an expression, that I can't understand. It resembles regret.

But before I can ask him about it, he smiles tenderly at me again.

"Nothing will separate us. The world is just a game. It's a matter of time and making the right moves." That is his motto. But I'm not always convinced of this. Even though I trust him to do the right thing.

"I'm just worried we'll get seperated, you know? Evil can be sneaky and traitors always exist. You never know who you can trust." Something I said must have really bothered him, because he looks like I just stabbed him.

This time I ask him about it.

"What's on your mind? You can tell me. Two people who worry about something are better, than one who is alone with it." I take his hand and stroke his skin, it feels cold even though we have summer.

"Nothing, just- I don't want to lose you. I couldn't be here without you. I need you. I mean...I-I love you. You know that I would do anything to keep us together, right?"

His words surprise me. I know he loves me. I can sense that, everyone probably does. But he has never worn his heart on his sleeve and the three magical words only come out of his mouth on special occasions. The fact that he's telling me now surprises me.

"Of course. I trust you. We will survive together, I know that. Are you worried because of the rumors about the Titan King?" This topic is always very critical and he usually doesn't like to talk about it, but this time I decide to address it directly.

"He will come. I just want you to be safe, when it happens." He sounds so confident it gives me goosebumps.

"Perhaps. His followers will definitely try. But love is stronger than anything else. Especially our love. We will get through it." He doesn't look convinced, so I turn his face towards mine and kiss him.

My voice sounds soft, when I speak again.

"Luke, I love you. I could never leave you. Not even the King of the Underworld will be able to keep us apart. I promised to be by your side in every moment of our lives. You are my soul and without it I am damned."

This seems to reassure him, but I feel like he's not telling me something of great importance. But I don't want to push him, I know he will tell me when the time comes.

He always does.

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

As the day comes to an end, I say goodnight to my siblings and report for my night watch duty. The situation has been a lot more worse the recent weeks. Kronos exists, my worst fear was confirmed. And he is building an army, that is so strong that it will be difficult to fight against it. But what I'm really worried about are the rumors about our people, who have also joined his cause.

Nobody knows who, the spies have been hiding ever since. I've never felt like I was paying more attention to my words than I am now. The only person I don't have to hold back to is Luke.

But even with him I notice the effects of the bad news. The circles under his eyes are darker than ever and his nerves are so frayed, that every little thing makes him want to explode. His temper is hanging by a thread, that is increasingly threatening to break. And I'm trying everything to prevent this.

No matter if I try it by making him laugh (which has become difficult), massaging his tense shoulders, trying to kiss him to the point of forgetfulness (usually it's the other way around) or when he takes out his frustration by burying himself deep inside me. With every thrust of his hips, I feel him relax, his hand so tight around my body as if I would run away, if he didn't hold me close enough.

He's changing and I'm trying my best to maintain his good sides. That he doesn't completely lose himself in his responsibilities and the pressure, that he has, because he is a member of the camp council.

Besides, I can't complain, when he fucks me until I can't breathe aynmore and I block out everything around me. When he comes, he whispers the sweetest things in my ear. Even if sometimes they sound so protective, that I could almost come from his voice alone.

When he whispers to me how good I am for him or how much he loves being able to have such a power over me like that - maybe it should scare me, but I trust him like no one else.

My mind concentrated his best for my shift, but when I finally go to bed after quiet some time, my eyes quickly close.

Looking back, I wish I had never let myself sleep that night.

Because, when I close my eyes I see waves. Hear the seagulls screaming in the sky, the fish swimming in the water and the distant cries of strangers.

It's all unusual and the bright light would blind me, if I didn't avert my gaze. And as soon as I do it, I see a ship. It's huge, rust shimmers in the sunrays, the anchor shows that it's been in the same place for a while now.

I feel something pulling me towards it, pushing and burning in my chest, leaving me with a tremor that I can feel, even in my deep sleep.

As I flit through the window like a ghost, I feel paralyzed. My blood freezes, I want to disappear immediately and in my mind I scream at myself to wake up.

But it's no use, whatever is here, someone decided that I have to see it. Only then, my wish will be fulfilled and I can wake up. So, I hide in a corner, there are scratched picture frames above me and broken glass is scattered on the floor. The monsters that loudly crush the glass ahead of me seem unstoppable.

I tremble as I look at at least seven dracaenae, several shaggy hellhounds and set my eyes on gigantes, that take up almost the entire room.

But that is nothing compared to the terror, that grips me when I see my classmates. My friends. People I trusted, who I fought alongside, for who I cared about. People I would have sacrificed myself for. They all betrayed me. And I feel close to tears. When I want to turn away, I hear a voice that almost brings me to my knees.

It's Luke.

My faithful and caring protector, my heroic love. Someone, to which I had dedicated everything. He was my life, with every single breath I took. The motivation behind my every action. The reason I wanted to survive in this cruel world. He was everything I had and everything I will ever have and in that moment it was abruptly taken from me.

I didn't have the strength to concentrate, it was as if every fiber of my body was on fire, triggered by the torment of my suffering heart. Seeing him like that, in black armor, Kronos' silver mark glittering around his neck, instead of his colorful necklace. A stoic, hostile expression on his face, his hands gripping his sword, it all hurt too much to watch.

And as I sank to the floor and covered my eyes with my hands, I was still forced to listen. I couldn't understand why he was saying such things.

"With every day he becomes stronger, with every participation in our army, we become stronger. Everything is planned, the camp is weak. Just like all of its residents. The surprise is on our side, because we will show no mercy. We will kill anyone, who does not confess to us. Do you hear me? No hostages will be taken. Only Hades population will be expanded."

The screams around me are so loud, so angry and horrific that I feel tears running down my cheeks.

I don't want to see any of that. The person infront of me is not my Luke.

A kind of fog creeps around me and I feel cold, it seems too late to forget it now. When I notice the golden coffin and Lukes hunched posture, the scar on the side of his face, I realize he is praying to him.

To the fall of Olympus. Kronos.

I want to cry, to scream, to be angry - but I just feel like every part of my heart is breaking and will never be whole again. Luke will never again be the one to heal it.

My consciousness leaves the ship until I finally wake up, but I can't move at first. I feel lost, my muscles are stiff and after a few seconds I notice that I'm shaking. But it's not because I'm cold, the summer air is wafting in the air.

Such dreams are rare, but are like the own scary predictions of the future.

And then it comes all back so me, the memories, that have just turned my whole life upside down. Traitor. The word appears in my mind, I feel like I almost can't breathe. And then there is a finger on my cheek, gently stroking the skin and my chest immediately becomes warm.

I know this gesture.

When I open my eyes, I see his loving eyes and the smile that covers his mouth makes my heart clench in sorrow.

It was just a nightmare. Luke would never betray me.

But the whispers in my head say otherwise.

As we continue to look at each other in silent, I notice his furrowed eyebrows.

"What's wrong, my love? Did you have a nightmare? You look scared. Don't be afraid, I'm here. I will always protect you." His voice is so calm, so usual loving and it makes the butterflies in my stomach fly around like crazy.

He is so beautiful.

As he briefly turns his head to tighten the blanket around me, I see his side profile and the scar. Reminders of my dream crash onto me like a lightning strike from Zeus himself.

I sat up abruptly. Luke is a servant of our enemy. How could I ignore that? I feel like I'm almost starting to hyperventilate. The thought, this nightmare, Luke's appearance, this evil feeling - it makes me sick. And I'm suddenly so afraid, more than I have ever been in my life. But I can't tell if it's the fact that I just found out he joined Cronos' army or that he broke my heart doing so.

I see him tense, my panic seems to be affecting him too.

My thoughts are so confusing, I don't know what to do, I have to tell someone. I have to-

His hands find their way to my cheeks, cupping them gently to direct his gaze towards himself. I would have preferred not to look at him, but I have no choice. His eyes search mine.

Then, as if the weight of Atlas punishment was put on his shoulders, he lowers them. His lips tremble slightly and his eyes look at me, as if I am the most valuable thing in the world and he is about to lose it.

"You know it." He doesn't have to say what he means by that. We both know.

I want to break away from him, but he won't let me. He's always been much stronger.

But everything still feels so different, light surrounds us and I can't really feel my body.

"Listen to me, please. I can explain it. Please-" The world goes silent, before he can finish his sentence.

It is too much.

I stifle a scream. I want to jump out of bed, but his hands hold me close. I only manage to fall to the ground, breathing heavily, but his arms are much stronger and I'm still weakened by my dream. He trys to hold me in a position, so that his back hugs me. His hands grab mine and one of them covers my mouth to silence me, when I want to scream for help.

With any other person, I would have known what to do. With anyone but him, I could have defended myself without any problems. But it wasn't just anyone and what he had done to me, the betrayal he had committed, was nothing I could handle.

I tried to wriggle out of his grip, to kick him, but the more I cried and the more hysterical I became, the easier it was for him to have control over me.

And for the first time, it scared me.

"Please calm down, I have to explain it to you- you have to know, that I never wanted to deceive you, please-" I notice how his voice is failing and he has to pull himself together, to not to lose his composure.

When I shake his hand away and want to yell again, he grabs my neck with such a warning force, that no sound escapes me.

I tremble in his hold. Tears stream down my cheeks and I literally feel my heart breaking.

Then he starts whispering in my ear and his grip feels like a tragic prison.

"Nobody can know. I never wanted you to find out. Not until I convinced you, that it is the right thing to join him. Because he will win, sweetheart. I want us to win by his side." His voice sounds so confident and at the same time, as if he was a completely different person.

Tears continue running down my face and he slightly let's go of me, so he can comfort me.

"If you would just listen to me, you will understand my actions. Please, just listen to me-" but the world blurs infront of my eyes and I am only able to whisper three words, before darkness surrounds me.

"You betrayed me."

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

When I wake up, my head hurts so much, that it takes me several minutes to open my eyes. When I finally do it, I almost have a heart attack.

I recognize the similarity of this room from my dream. When I stand up, I run to the round window and look out, being only able to see the blue sea. Feeling empty and alone.

When I want to step out the door, I expect it to be locked. But instead the handle turns and I step out of the room. I'm so surprised about that, that I'm acting without thinking twice.

As I walk around the next corner, the deck creaks and I see an ugly creature in front of me, that makes every instinct to escape kick in.

I run in the other direction, but every turn makes me more desperate and, without any consideration, I run into the hall, I was so afraid of.

It is filled with all kinds of ciders, and I also see the figures of my classmates, wounded and unhappy.

It's all so overwhelming, that I dont even see him standing on the podium, in the first place.

But as the monsters try to grab me, his voice echoes through the room with an affable authority.

"Nobody touches her. You hear me? Nobody. She is under my protection." I almost freeze into a stature, as he comes towards me and I have no way of avoiding him. No weapon is within my reach, his eyes notice my growing panic.

"Everyone leaves the room. Now." Nobody discusses it, even if some roll their eyes or quietly protest. His authority is unquestioned, it sends a cold shiver down my spine.

When the last doors slam shut, we stand a few meters opposite each other.

"The doors are guarded." It's the first thing he says.

When he tries to approach me, I lose my nerves and run to the corner with the broken glass, that I saw in my dream. I take them in my hands.

I see his eyes widen and he stops in his tracks.

"You- you want to fight me?" He actually sounds surprised and sad. Like I was the one who betrayed him and not the other way around.

"Don't come any closer. I may not have been able to do anything last time, but if you take one step closer then-" I don't know what to say. In no scenario did I ever think, I would have to threaten him.

But despite my warning, he comes towards me with his hands raised, the panic within me so palpable, that I can feel every muscle in my body.

I dodge, when he is only a few meters in front of me. Right into the next corner. As far away from him as possible.

"Princess, you can't keep me away forever. I've always loved that about you. You need me as much as you need to breathe."

It's supposed to sound sweet, but his words make me feel sick

"I'd rather suffocate." He didn't expect that. My words hit him so unexpectedly that he is almost speechless. Almost.

"I won't hurt you. You just have to let me get to you and I'll show you everything. You will understand, believe me." He really thinks, I'll just stay by his side and let him explain.

"Are you crazy? You're a traitor, Luke. You- you betrayed everyone. You betrayed me. How could you do this?" I suppress my tears, because that's exactly what he's waiting for. That my defense becomes weaker. I can't allow this.

"You dont understand. I always told you I would protect you. And I can only do that, if I'm on the winning side. And I am now. We are." His eyes flash with a craziness that makes me tremble. I don't recognize him.

"Why are you acting this way? You are doing the wrong thing - you give up everything. You're giving up on us." Tears leave my eyes and I see him take a few steps in my direction.

"I'm doing the right thing for us. You'll see. You just have to trust me, please. You know I always win. With the power he gives me, I will be invincible. You don't have to worry about one of us dying in this war anymore." I can't move, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have a way out now. He's too close.

"You are wrong. I would rather die in this war than join this monster and his deceitful army." The shards in my hand hurt, but I don't let them go. They're the only thing I can use to defend myself.

"You would leave me?" His eyes are staring into my soul.

"Would you fight me?" Every word is more intimidating.

"Would you stop loving me?" His words are like his own shards, leaving deep wounds in my heart.

He's standing right in front of me now, looking at me like I'm fragile.

Then he whispers "Would you kill me?"

In the next second, he suddenly has my hands in his, making me drop the glass. Be is only a few centimeters away from me now, his eyes are looking into my own.

"Would you, princess? Then show me." Suddenly he does something, I would have never expected. He takes out his sword and puts it in my hands.

His own hands go behind his back, his eyes tempting me. I feel all the blood in my body drain.

"Do it. I can't live in a world, where you don't love me anymore. In which you are no longer by my side. I am yours. That will never change, just like my love for you."

I can barely hold the sword, it's so wobbly in my hands. He stands in front of me and gives me every chance to defeat him. But I can't move.

It's quiet for a moment, then I see new hope in his eyes and when he speaks again, the tone of his voice melts my heart.

"What did you say a few months ago, you would always let me win? Let's win together this time. Please, just listen to me." His hand strokes my cheek. Wipes away the tears.

Then he drops his hand and grasps his sword, letting it fall to the ground.

He takes my hand instead.

"Follow me." He pulls me behind him, closer and closer to the golden coffin, it's like I'm in a trance, but when I finally feel the cold aura of something cruel, I'm able to think clearly again.

"No-" I don't want to be one step closer to this thing.

He turns around so quickly, that I can only slap his cheek, before he grabs me again.

"That was for kidnapping me. Let me go now!" I want to avoid his grasp. But again he does something I don't expect.

He holds me still, catches my gaze and then, kisses me so gently that the feeling alone makes me almost completely defenseless. His hands cup my cheeks, grip my hair, hold my body.

This is probably his worst trick. I've never been able to resist one of his kisses. And he knows that. He uses it against me.

Then he murmurs words against my lips, that barely reach my ears.

My heart is pounding in my throat.

"You feel this? We belong together. It is not written anywhere on which side we need to be. As long as we are together." His fingers stroke my lower lip, his figure towers over me and for a moment my surroundings fade. It's almost like always.

But he's not wearing his orange t-shirt, his expression isn't relaxed, and I don't hear any insults from the camp members in the distance.

"You're manipulating me." I am powerless against him. I thought we were on the same team, that no one had more power over the other one. But I was so wrong.

His eyebrows furrow again, and when his hands try to pull me against him, I hit his chest, without thinking, with the only piece of glass I hid in my pocket. But unlike I expected, nothing happens. The shard bounces off his skin and falls loudly to the ground. I can only stare at him in disbelief.

"How-" He just looks at me worried, no anger is visible in his eyes.

"You can't hurt me. I have the curse of Achilles upon me." I suddenly become aware of the effect the lake Styx in the underworld hast and I almost fall to the ground at the realization, my knees weaken.

"That was a test earlier. You wanted to see if I would kill you-" my voice fails.

He just looks at me sadly and smiles in regret. My heart becomes heavy.

"And I knew you wouldn't hurt me on purpose. You would never hurt someone you love. Not if you'd kill me in the process." What can I do? He knows me better than anyone, he can see right through my every thought.

"I can't do this, Luke. I-I can't be together with you, if you are like this." I'm serious, but he doesn't believe me.

"That's what you think, but it's a lie. The sooner you admit it to yourself, the more pain you avoid. Our souls are linked together, without me you are not able to live. I know, that you will continue to love me, no matter what I decide to do. That's how much you love me. You would rather die than not loving me."

I can't listen to him. I can't.

But his eyes are like all the promises in the world. He is my world. How could I ever forget that?

"Please come back with me, Luke. I-I won't tell anyone, but please. Let's go, let's forget everything, please-" I cant deal with this anymore. It's like he's draining all the energy out of me. More with every word, that leaves his lips.

"I can not do that. It will stay the way it is now. Don't fight against me, fight with me. You are so smart and loyal, you will be convinced. He will show you." His eyes now flash with something that frightens me. I see his hunger for power, something that has always been dormant within him.

"Luke, the only thing I ever really wanted was you. No power, no war, no prosperity. Only you. But I'm about to lose you. Don´t do this to me, I beg you." My hands find his face, stroke the skin and I look into his eyes. But they are no longer the same ones I fell in love with.

I never thought he would love having power more than he loves me. It breaks my heart.

"I have decided. Nothing will change about that. Not even your pleadings. I'm sorry." His eyes reflect my desperation.

"What's holding you back? All you need is me." He says it so confident, that I almost wonder, why I don´t agree with him.

But my conscience has always been my greatest strength.

"I won't betray them. I couldn't live with myself, if I did." He takes a step back.

"But you could live without me? You would rather be by Jackson's side than mine?" His words hurt me. But he speaks the truth.

"I love you Luke, more than I ever thought was possible. But just as you put power before me, I put loyalty first. And I'm not sorry about that."

Frustration finally seeps through his perfect facade. I wonder how long he's been playing with me. The thought of it makes everything inside me tighten.

"I am not letting you go. Our fate is set. You will recognize it too and when that happens, you will be on my side."

His conviction frightens me, but this time it doesn't freeze me into a statue. Now, I'm running away.

And luckely, he didn't expect that.

For a few minutes now I've noticed one of the windows, that doesn't look very stable. I just have to jump against it to open it.

"NO!" Luke's voice echoes across the room, loud and warning, but it doesn't stop me. Before he can catch up with me, I jump towards the window, my shoulder hurts, but I was right, it breaks.

But I didn't think about the height difference and I realize it might be too late to do something about it now.

As I try to hold on to the wall outside, two thoughts repeat in my mind.

Either I die or I'm trapped.

Then I hear Luke's voice. He sounds desperate and at the same time angry, like I have never heard him before.

The wall is slippery and it takes every bit of strength in me not to fall, I know it would be my death. I hold on to the broken wall.

"She is outside. Get her back, NOW!" My muscles hurt and I don't know what to do. Then I hear the loud beating of wings. Before I can see who it is, I hear Percy's quiet voice. I feel like crying.

"Drop down, I've got you." I have to trust him. So, I let myself fall without thinking.

Then I feel myself landing on something soft, I hold on to it and my knuckles turn white.

The screams and shouts of the monsters make me tremble, I just want to get out of here. Even if it means, that I perhaps will never see Luke again.

"Come on, now. They'll be here soon." As the wings of the Pegasus move towards the sky, towards freedom, I let the tears fall. The wind is beating around my ears and I can only see in the corner of my eyes that we are getting closer to the clouds.

"I'll find you!"

Luke's threatening voice is the last thing I remember as I close my eyes from the grief of leaving him.

[faerunnn]

Reminiscing

(gif found here!)

Tav x Astarion (GN reader)

Word count: 2136

Note: I changed the way the events of the story go a little in this, it just made more sense to me this way. Just a quick heads up! I really hope whomever reads this can find the comfort in the sadness. I know i certainly do. Sending a big hug either way <3 (also thanks again so much for the love on ''Pain'', i really liked reading the notes and reblog comments <3)

The cool autumn breeze flew through your hair, strands flowing with the ever changing directions of the wind. Closing your eyes for just a brief moment, taking a deep breath, a small smile forms on your lips. Somehow this moment felt more peaceful than the last few months have been. A rare moment in an orbit of continued chaos that has become your life. You open your eyes, looking over the bustling streets, sinking paths that lead to other taverns, other houses, other lives. There were a few boats in the harbor of Baldur’s gate, a few more lingering in the lagoon. The sun set a while ago, but the faint oranges and purples are still visible at the edge of the water. Folding your arms over each other you lean more into the railing of the top roof of the tavern. Somehow a moment of peace and quiet whilst the lost voices of people talking, sounds of tankards clinking and music being played slowly fades. You let your thoughts drift off. Only for a moment.

It has only been a few weeks since the city was freed of mind flayers, the absolute and all the destruction it brought with it. Only 8 weeks since you tried to rebuild your life in the only town you could somewhat call home. The process of even remotely taking all the events in has been painfully slow. Slower than you expected. Slower than you wanted to admit. 

When you got abducted by the nautiloid, life moved at a fast pace. You were gone for months, fighting your way back to Baldur's gate. The desperation grew heavier and heavier with each step you and your companions took. You all grew so close in such a short period of time. But that was a given, being together 24/7. It somehow feels like a blur now. You went from not trusting a single soul, ready to fight and kill everyone who even dared to take a step in your direction, to making the best of friends you never had. 

But there was something more. You fell in love. A pale elf, white curly hair and deep red eyes. You could never forget his face. No matter how hard you try. The way he managed to break down the walls you had built and maintained for years so easily. He took a place in your heart, one reserved for him. Like he was meant to reside there. You fell first, but he fell harder. You were there for each other. For the first time in both of your lives you were not alone anymore. Surrounded by people who you cared for and loved you. A terrifying thought, yet the comfort you felt knowing you didn't have to fight your battles alone anymore was far greater than the fear. 

After the big battle there was only one thing left to do. You all had planned this for almost the entire adventure. Cazador was to die. Astarion was to finally be free. The last thing left to do. Stop the ritual, kill Cazador and live free. All he had ever wanted was to be free. So when he decided to ascent himself against your better judgements, you were shocked to say the least. Only wanting him to finally have the control and happiness in his life that he deserved, you supported him. But the outcome was much different than you had ever anticipated. The sweet, soft Astarion you came to grow and love was gone. The nights you spend looking at the stars, talking about everything and anything. It faded faster than snow before the sun. You couldn't recognise him anymore. His desire for more power, to become even greater than anyone the city or even Faerun has ever seen became the number one priority for him. He didn't want to settle down anymore, did not want to live a quiet and civil life in the city, or any place for that matter, anymore. All of it was gone. And there was nothing you could do. You tried staying with him after. Not wanting to give up the bond you had built. But you quickly realized that whatever it was that you were trying to mend, was not there anymore. How could you fix something that doesn't exist? So one night,whilst he was away, you wrote him a letter; left it on the bed and left the palace grounds quietly and quickly. Not even once looking back at the love you had lost. 

For the past 6 weeks you have been staying with Karlach. Finding comfort in talking about everything with her. Shadowheart has been stopping by when she could too. All speaking of the struggles of finding comfort in a quiet life. The battleground and struggles had been the comfort of your lives for so long that everything about this life felt alien, unfamiliar. But it was so nice to not be alone in all of this. Astarion had made no efforts in mending things with you. He knew you couldn't be far. This city was all you had left. Yet he has not once made the effort to find you. 

Slowly you had been trying to get back out there. Doing odd jobs for elder neighbors, taking small walks by the water, reading in the park. Trying to find new hobbies, what you seek comfort in. things that made you truly happy. It had been a tough road. But slowly you were getting there. Rediscovering your interests, igniting old, dull flames of joy within your heart. 

Tonight was one of the first times that you had properly been out of the house without Karlach or Shadowheart. Meeting up with friends from the past had been on your to do list for a while, but the fear of reaching out had been greater than the idea of experiencing the joy of reuniting. But when you ran into Elda while stopping by a local market you had no reason to turn her invitation down. Just a casual night in the tavern you used to go to when times were easier, years ago. 

You snapped out of your memories when you heard someone clear their throats behind you. You stopped slouching over the railing and turned around, expecting a drunk sailor to ask you to move. But you were met with familiar burgundy eyes. Shock washed over your face as you held your breath, not really knowing what to say. 

‘’Hello, pet.’’ He said. A light smirk on his face. You hated how much you loved that smirk. The way it would make you feel inside. You knew that he knew this as well. The amount of times you told him all the things you loved about him. You exhaled and swallowed a big gulp of tears. Not wanting to break down. This was not the time. 

‘’Astarion.’’ You said with a somewhat shaky breath, but still trying to sound as polite as possible. There was no reason for drama. No reason for causing a scene. That was the last thing you needed. 

He smiled oh so slightly when he heard you speak his name. You caught it, but how fast it appeared, it faded as well. A much colder and composed face reappeared again. The one you grew familiar with after the ascension. You gave him a tight smile, almost laughing at how fitting that little interaction just now was. 

‘’I had been wondering where you went.’’ he looked around the area. ‘’I expected a little more class from you, darling.’’

‘’Don't call me that, please.’’ It almost came out as a plea. Which truth be told, it was. The feelings had felt so fresh still. You looked at the ground, not even wanting to make eye contact anymore. It was all too much. The feelings and emotions that you had been trying to push away and bury all floating back to the surface. You turn back to face the railing again, trying to compose your thoughts and now staring at the crescent moon grazing the night sky. 

You hear soft footsteps coming closer and from the corner of your eye you see him leaning down next to you. He is wearing much nicer clothes now. Looking all polished and untouchable. You don't dare to look his way. Not being able to speak a single word. You stand there, recollecting your thoughts in a somewhat comfortable silence. 

‘’It doesn't have to be this way, you know.’’ he states after a while. You notice him glancing your way but still refuse to meet his gaze. ‘’I thought you wanted forever. I wanted to give you forever.’’ 

A lump forms in your throat as you hear him speak. Tasting emotion in his tone. A softer voice, pauses between sentences. He is struggling. Whether it is on the same level as you, you don't know. 

‘’You went down a path i can’t follow, Astarion.’’ You finally manage to get out, trying your best not to let the emotions take over your entire demeanor. You look up at him with glassy eyes. A shaky breath escapes your lips while you try to look for the emotion in his face. Even if it was a trace, ever so small. A trace of the old him. The Astarion you fell to love so dearly. But you see nothing. There will forever be a small amount of hope residing in you that he changes his ways. That he will snap out of it and come back to you. That you will pick up where things left off, making the dreams you created true. Together. You would wait for him. Give him the space he needed. But looking at him now, in front of you. He is not there anymore. His face is cold and unmoving. Not a single emotion or reaction in response to seeing you in this state, speaking these words to him. 

‘’I wanted forever with you. The rest of my life, for however long that may be. Free. From anyone or anything. No more pacts, no more devils.’’ You start. ‘’No more, anything. Just you and me. A small house, here in the city. Or far away. I didn't care, as long as you would be by my side. But you chose a different future for yourself. More power. More status. More pacts, one with the devil. We had different versions of freedom created in our future. I never wanted to be your pet. Your spawn. I wanted an equal, a partner.’’ Tears ran down your cheeks.hot and warm, in a way they haven't in a while. A feeling you've been trying to suppress and move on from for a while now. You look back at the harbor while you wipe some tears off your face with the back of your hand. You take a deep breath before you continue. 

‘’You broke my heart, Astarion. The way you treated me the weeks before I left. I felt like I had lost everything I fought so hard for. You broke me. I let you in, we let each other in.’’ You emphasize the last part of the sentence in frustration. ‘’I gave you all of me.’’ 

He stands in silence as he takes in everything you’re saying. Again, for a split second you can detect some sort of emotion in his eyes. Sadness. But just like before it fades even quicker than it appeared. He has not changed. The little flicker of hope in your heart, dimming. Maybe you needed this encounter. Maybe this was somehow the universe telling you that it is time to let it go, for good. No looking back anymore. No more waiting around for a small miracle. He gave his soul away. He would never be able to get that back, not from the pact he made.  

You take in his silence, and look back at him, one last time. Taking in his features. He still looks as handsome as you remembered. And you will never not remember him this way. You take one deep breath and just let all the tears settle for a second. 

‘’I honestly and truly hope you are happy now. That you feel and experience the freedom you longed for. You out of all of us maybe deserved it the most.’’ You say and you give him a soft but genuine smile before you turn around completely, ready to walk away. 

‘’Goodbye, Astarion.’’ You say and you walk back into the tavern, not looking back while a single tear escapes your eye once more. You feel his gaze burning into your back but you cannot turn back anymore. This was it. He found his happiness, or so you hoped. And now it is time you find yours.

[morgana-ren]

I wanted the full analysis!!! 🙏 Also I can't become a goddess </3 sadness

You wouldn't want to, babe. Sounds like fun, but Godhood is-- well, it's not great in DnD. It attracts exactly who you think it would: The naive, or the power-hungry and unworthy.

Well, let's look at Gale and his ultimate motivations:

When you meet him, he's straight-forward although fully polite, charismatic, and very much a 'wizard' archetype, as in noticeably and actively intelligent but in a strangely awkward way. Charming, talkative, but earnest. As you get to know him, you learn more about his plight and his struggles, his prodigal upbringing, his dalliances with Mystra, his fall from grace, and his inevitable charge with 'ending' this little uprising by the upstart Dead Three-- and ending his own life in the process.

Most people, you would think, would have an ounce of self-preservation upon being told "Hey, you need to kill yourself to end this." Even the rest of the group, up against ridiculous odds, are holding on to the glimmer of hope that they can survive.

Not Gale. Gale just basically goes "Okay. So be it." While he does mourn in a way, he mourns more over his initial mistake than he does the loss of his own life. He thinks of all he did wrong, all the 'pain' he caused. the loss he caused himself, and his rejection at Mystra's hands for which he entirely blames himself.

Gale is a victim of grooming. It is framed in a strange way, since the one doing the grooming is a Goddess, but he is absolutely a victim. He tells you that Mystra has been with him since he was a boy, which yes, you can frame as he is a wizard and she is essentially magic incarnate, but it doesn't stop there. She doesn't encourage him as a pupil-- she takes him as a lover. As a conduit of her own power. Carnally.

She takes him into her bed, and as a lover.

Had Mystra been just an elderly powerful witch, this would have been way more fucking obvious to people. But because she is a God and her whims are unknowable, it's essentially shrugged off-- which I feel like is part of his arc.

Gale did what he did because he was on completely fucking uneven tier with his own lover. The power dynamic was abusive. He could not be on her level and she expected him to be fine with that. She demanded excellence but when he delivered, she spurned him. He was expected to be brilliant and perfect-- but not too much. And when he was perfect? He still could never be enough. She is a goddess and he is expected to bow and scrape. She groomed him to admire and revere and worship her, and then told him to sit down and be happy with what little he was given.

He needed to prove himself her equal. He needed her approval. He needed it because it was a relationship to him, and one he physically could not win at.

Gale is a human. He needs love and connection and fairness. Mystra, by her own nature, cannot give this-- and she doesn't want to.

Gale knows well the callousness of the Gods. Not just with Mystra, but from his tower, he can see injustice and pain and misery. He is extremely empathetic and cares so deeply. His eldest companion, the Tressym Tara, was an accidental summon that stayed with him for life and became intrinsically involved with his family. He knows love. He knows pain. He is a good man.

Gale seeks knowledge, though he does not seek it for power. He seeks it out of genuine and earnest desire to help. To make people's lives better. Yes, he seeks to be seen as intelligent and brilliant because he is, but he is not a selfish being.

For 'good' players, he is one of the easiest approvals to get, because he very much approves of just being a good person. Helping. Being kind and lending a hand. Saving lives. Using your strength and power for good.

But again, Gale is human. And the folly of the clever man is to believe everyone around him is a fool. He, in all his brilliance, found a way he thought he could help. A path that has been tread time and time again with naught but the misery and bewailings of those who came before to show for it as a warning. But he thought he was different. He thought he could pull it off.

He could become a God.

Secretly, he found a way to put himself on even tier with Mystra-- and do what she did not have the compassion, kindness, or even desire to do. To use Godhood for good. To use all that magnificent power to achieve goodness rather than greatness. To be an active God in the lives of mortal men. To make the world better.

He thought that he could maintain his connection with humanity through his apotheosis and ultimately exist with one foot in each world; To straddle mortality and immortality and put reins on them both.

You are warned repeatedly throughout the game that this is bad. That many have tried and all have failed. Humans are not meant to be gods, and you cannot exist as a hybrid. If you are a God, you are a god. If you are a man, you are mortal. The mortal mind cannot tether Godhood. It is not possible. Best case scenario, you lose yourself. Worst case? You are punished eternally for your hubris.

To be a God is to be unknowable. To see the threads of time and the futility of it all. You are ripped from your conscious mind as a man and you can no longer relate. Lives and suffering, they are all fleeting, miniscule things from your mountain on high. All men must die; why is tonight different from any other night? Why is your suffering so great that a god should take interest? What are you to me, little mortal? Your kingdoms shall fall and burn and crumble and be rebuilt and crumble again but my temple shall remain, and when you are but dust in the fickle wind, you too shall know my eternal glory.

The way Mystra looked at Gale.

An instrument. A tool. A temporary amusement and benefactor. He is a mere man and she is a Goddess and when his bones bleach in Selune's unforgiving sun, she shall choose a new apprentice to take unto her bed. And so the wheel of time spins endlessly on.

A large theme of the game is the malevolence of some Gods and the utter indifference of others.

Selune's perceived abandonment of Ketheric that led to his downfall and madness. He lost his wife and daughter after an entire life of servitude, and he did not even receive comfort in return. She is considered a good natured Goddess, and even she is cruel in her neglect and indifference when it does not suit her.

Shar and her utter disregard and even active disdain for her most devout-- and everything else. Viconia, who committed her life to Shar, cast aside for a Selunite orphan on a whim. Her hatred of living creatures and her manipulations. Her outright malevolence and reverence for their suffering. You see her cruelty both from an outside and inside perspective, and her circular doctrine that makes no sense, her faith that demands all and gives nothing in return.

The Gods that are active are only so malevolently. Bane devouring Gortash after his defeat despite how far he'd gotten in his name. Myrkul abandoning Ketheric as well in the end. Bhaal discarding his own children when the do not suit his whims.

"We are but bronze pieces in their pocket to be traded on a whim. You may have beaten me, but the truth is, the Gods beat me first."

It is literally a thematic constant.

Sure, they can do good. They have devout worshipers and can be seen doing some level of good-- Isabelle and her protection of the Last Light, for example. But it's never quite them, is it? It is the humans that utilize their power. The humans who care. Selune did not protect them of her own volition. Her magic was invoked.

Gale's goal was to become both. To have the power and will of a God but the consciousness and mind of a man.

Mark my words, you would go mad.

Gods see eons. The endless tide of eternity drifting endlessly on. Imagine the incessant screams. The pleading. The misery. The death. The horror at the hands of man and your fellow Gods. Even all of your power, all of your prestige could not save them all.

And even if you could-- even if you could-- Ao demands a level of indifference. It is one of the fundamental rules.

Gale must accept this, or he will become that which he sought to rectify. He must learn that to love and care so deeply is to be mortal. That to retain all that made him beautiful and wonderful, he must be humbled and rather do as he can rather than all he feels capable of. He must seek Mystra's forgiveness (disgusting) on a symbolic level and accept that he is a mortal and his hubris would be his downfall. Gods and mortals should not mix.

But if he does not? If he utilizes the Crown of Karsis?

He becomes a god. He gets his wish. And in true Faustian fashion, the price he pays makes the prize worthless.

He becomes an arrogant, disconnected, detached, miserable pile of sectorless divinity.

He becomes callous. Cruel. When asked about all those people he longed to save, he shrugs. He no longer speaks of the mortal realm, he speaks of the beauty and frivolity of Elysium. Of the wonders of Godhood and all he understands-- or has forgotten. He has completely detatched from mortality and only deigns to come down from his fucking halcyon world to bless you-- his former friends-- with his magnanimous presence. To let you know how lucky you are. How blessed.

All that power he has? Useless. Used to prop himself on a pedestal same as every other filthy fucking God.

His deepest, most treasured friend will tell him this, and how does he respond? By basically telling her 'You don't know shit.' He ignores her. Threatens you if you try. A man who was willing to give his life selflessly to save the world will now threaten divine wrath if you even so much as irritate him. He will swing that hammer of power down just to prove a fucking point.

If you loved him and refuse him? Utterly disconnected. No genuine feeling. Just looking down on you like the silly little human you are. When you refuse him, he is disconnected from who he was and what he ever felt for you. Gale, a man who was groomed and just wanted love on an equal playing field; a man desperately lonely in his brilliance; a man so distraught by what he felt that he sought to break the barrier and become a god, not for power, but for benevolence-- he becomes Mystra.

He is no longer Gale. He is the God of Ambition. Another useless god in a pantheon of useless ideas. What good is ambition if it does not serve a purpose? To make him the god of ambition is to spit in his face, because what was his ambition? Where is it now, Gale? What are you?

What is your ambition and where the fuck is it now?

Gale is a kind, caring, compassionate man who went through a horrible, traumatic event that changed who he was fundamentally. Dumped and abandoned by his Goddess, it burned him. It hurt him in such a way that he made it his goal to change this dynamic and to become what she could not.

He was still in love with her. Of course he was. How it must be to love something that you know can never love you back. That you are one of many, and your time is over. You have served your purpose. And if you die, you die. If the realm dies, so be it.

Gale's is a story of hubris born of love. A man gifted with intelligence and power that he only wanted to utilize for the best; to do what he thought was right. He wasn't clawing after the crown for raw power's sake. He wanted to help. That's all he ever wanted.

The bookworm that will talk your ear off about his cat and his studies and his love of books. A man so brilliant that it's painful at times. A man who loved his mother and his cat. A man who loved a goddess and, in a story that could have no happy ending, decided to give everything to make it so. If it meant dying, then so be it. He wasn't clawing for the crown to save his own life. He was doing it to save everyone else's.

He fundamentally misunderstood the nature of the Gods. He touched divinity and it looked at him with a human countenance and so he believed he could grasp it.

The Gods are powerful, and yes, they are unknowable and, in a way, infinite-- but they are callous and cruel and indifferent. They are power with no outlet. Useless. They gaze upon humanity like rats in a cage, uncaring and unfeeling. Separated entirely. Sometimes they deign to make their presence known. But mostly? They sit on their heavenly thrones and revel in their own brand of bullshit.

This is what Gale will become. It is an insult to an incredible man to take away all that made him incredible and make him another b-lister jumpstart God up his own ass. Caring and love are work. They are pain. It is suffering and agony. But that is what separates us from them. We do not, and in some cases, cannot separate. It is our world, and we live in it. We must breathe in the poisons. Smell the blood that soils the earth. It is our world and we cannot separate. We love and we help and we learn--

Gale wanted to help. So he became a God.

But what do Gods do?

They watch. Through the gray window of indifference, they watch. They watch us tear each other open. They watch other Gods tear us open. They watch the wounds. They watch the graves. They watch the fires rage.

They watch and they listen to the screams. And when they are bored of them? They shut them out.

Gale became a god.

And so too shall he watch, removed from it all.

Not an ounce of humanity left in a man that ached so for humanity itself that it damn near drove him mad.

[lilithmymind]

Hey, pals, have I told ya just how much I love villain route? No? Not yet? Than welcome.

I'm fucking obsessed with that route, especially John in there. Villain Joker is very collected and serious, even though he's smiling and laughing, his whole mannerisms and attitude is much more serious and maybe even cold sometimes. He have power to lead a bunch of people and create a huge and working plan to destroy Gotham which he sabotages by the other side of his character. Joker's clothing is still as messy as John's, showing up what he still has that little John Doe left in him, and visualizes his inner conflict. During that route Joker showed John out, letting himself be insecure, letting himself doing something good and what John wants himself, not what he should be wanting. John clearly shows up at the over emotional moments like when he asks Batman to don't tell Harley about what he bettayed her, stopping Harley from killing Bruce and when he pre&after-fight with Bruce, showing up what no matter how collected and what «monster» John became as The Joker, he's still the same confused kind guy in the inside who just happened to find himself more at creating destruction than anything else. John was a puppet of dark thoughts and desires all along, but he always hid it behind, meanwhile Joker was a puppeteer who can't survive without his puppet stopping him and putting him onto the right paths.

Also I really love Bruce&John's line there. Joker in all ways tries to show Bruce how much he despises him, how much he hates him, how much he doesn't care, but still he does, John does. Meanwhile Bruce is literally holding over a lot of sadness and pain. Imagine what the person you loved, cared about, who seemed to be so nice and good, ends up becoming a monster, ends up torturing you, your friends, your parental figures, and than you have to fight him. For Bruce this was a huge crack, since his best «friend» becomes his enemy, becomes someone, who Bruce can't recognize because he was too blinded by his feelings to notice what something is wrong with John on the fundamental way. Especially once John got a heart attack. John probably thought what they'll never see each other again at the last moment, and Bruce probably thought the same, but If John would die really, Bruce won't. Bruce would be holding this forever until the day he'll die himself. But, thanks God, John stays alive snd wakes up, it still left a huge scar on Bruce, especially it got deeper once that old motherf—Ahem, Alfred, decided what he's leaving and said what the thing what happened to people around Bruce, including John, was Bruce's fault.

I can't stop imagining what would happen after that way. Bruce never visit John, but Joker already planning something to do with Bruce what will make Bruce just like John. Bruce's decisions really did impact John, because all this violence, the fact what John isn't so scared to be a murderer who he is now and etc might've get out once John watched Bruce's behavior, once he noticed what it's «fine» too, what John can be who he is. John probably has plans on using the same what Bruce did to open up all those darkness inside him too.

I was yapping about only the way I played the game so your experience with the route might've been a little bit different.

[silviakundera]

The Princess Royal ep 35 comments

So the writers made a signifucant change here, with having a traumatized, pregnant Li Rong decide to hide the revelation of the past from Pei Wenxuan instead of just having a complete breakdown in his arms.

The adaption has actually been overall shockingly novel complaint (it may be streamlined and less able to communicate complex character dynamics but on the whole the major events all track and tons of dialogue is lifted from the novel)... so I find myself curious about the few big deviations.

Why do I think they made this choice?

Suspense: the desire to create a conflict & tension btw our leads, because by this period in the story they are so on sync and united in purpose that I think the screenwriter is worried that it's too bland (if we recall The Double, some viewers felt a certain malaise with that couple at the end because they just supported each other w no conflict & drama).

No sex : in the novel they fuck about it; not gonna happen here. With all that stripped away, all of the emotional conflicts & resulting catharsis are happening between other characters in the last chapters. So what to do?

Mirrored behavior: I think perhaps we are intended to see a comparison in how SRQ didn't want to tell LR this secret out of protection for her mental health. He would rather be the villian to her who killed her for a blood feud, than see her face the truth. He originally wanted to "fix everything" without her having to know. SRQ is LR's foil. So I can see how perhaps drama writers thought it would be a plausible reaction for LR hide this from PWX and try to "fix it" behind his back, so his hands are clean and HE didn't betray the crown prince. In the drama as she is doing this, her voice over literally thinks that the only person she can trust is PWX. She just wants to keep him out of it. And then says some stuff in temporary anger when they fight about it.

So how do I feel about the change? While I do prefer the novel version, I guess I can agree it's a plausible scenario in the drama - because the drama's streamlining has reduced the emphasis on LR and SRQ standing on opposite sides politically. In the novel, frankly I do not see her joining w SRQ's camp for even 10 minutes. It just wouldn't happen. At this point, sure she knows he means well but they fundamentally disagree on what is the right path for the country. Even a panicking & broken novel!LR wouldn't be tempted to let a puppet Li Cheng take the throne.

But if I keep an open mind, I can see how in the live action version this might seem like a plausible stop-gap measure for LR and then she thinks she can recover and course correct after. I don't agree with the writing choice but I don't HATE it.

I'll be honest - It's hard for me to judge her too harshly for her immediate reactions in either novel or drama because her lament is just TOO SAD. I know she's far from a perfect person, but it really hurts my heart.

novel snippets of her soliloquy:

"Li Rong, let yourself go."

These words were like a heavy hammer hitting Li Rong, shattering her heart abruptly. She wanted to fight back, to retort, but in the end, it only became a rhetorical question, "If I let myself go, who will let me go?"

"No one has spared me!"

When these words came out, she could no longer restrain the pain she had been trying so hard to contain, "Everyone is using me, Chuan'er doesn't believe me and killed me, Shangguan Ya and Su Rongqing watched me die. Pei Wenxuan," Li Rong grabbed Pei Wenxuan's sleeve as she stared at him with tearful eyes, "how do you want me to let myself go?"

"No one believes me, you all think I'm bad, that I'm selfish, that I'm power-hungry, that I'm unscrupulous, that I won't think of any of you."

"So Li Chuan wants to kill me, Shangguan Ya wants me dead, Su Rongqing watches me drink the poison and says nothing, and even you," Li Rong tugged at his shirt with a deadly grip, "do you also think that I'm pushing you now? That I'm slandering your feelings, that I'm suffering so I'm making you suffer too?"

Pei Wenxuan froze, Li Rong lowered her head, she restrained herself, she tried to calm herself down a little.

She had hurt too many people, everyone had abandoned her, she wanted to be kinder to Pei Wenxuan, she shouldn't have indulged herself.

"I didn't."

She sounded dumb, "I just want to, to be nice to you. I want to be nice to everyone, but I can't do anything right."

"I don't talk well, I'm too dictatorial, I'm like a hedgehog, and anyone who sees me thinks I'm bad. I can't even, when I try to like you, do it well."

"I've done so much for Chuan'er," she said as tears poured down her eyes, "but he still doesn't believe me."

"I fought like that for a' Ya and Chuan'er, and a'Ya still gave up on me for the slightest risk."

"I'd gone to so much trouble to keep Su Rongqing, but I still can't live in his heart, he hasn't even given me a little trust."

"I'm not forcing you, I really just want to be good to you, I don't know what to do, I just want you to not suffer a little in front of me. But I still can't do it right."

"I'm sorry ......" she tilted her head to look at him and said it over and over again, "I'm sorry ......"

Pei Wenxuan did not say anything, he looked at Li Rong in front of him, she no longer had any semblance of decorum to speak of. The most wretched thing in life, he's afraid, is her now. Even when he met her in prison, she was fully clothed and tied up, her posture was calm.

*

"...That was the last life, I can ignore it, but just because I don't care, doesn't mean I don't care."

"One has to hold the power to have a choice. And when you gain power, it shouldn't be mixed with feelings. I used to talk about liking power, but in fact when I made decisions, I always put a lot more trust in them and was willing to fight for them. So when I came up, I always thought of helping Chuan'er, solving his present problems for him, his future problems."

"My mother scolded me, saying that I was thinking all these things. That the emperor thought of me as a princess, and that in the eyes of the future emperor, I was no different in nature from the noble lineage. I thought she was silly at the time, but now I realise that it was me who was silly."

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I think what's truly horrible, what traumatizes her so deeply, is that this was a long process. LR and PWX remember her descent into chronic illness! How she wasted away as PWX brought her doctors to try to save her. Her brother didn't kill her in 1 momentary act of rage & paranoia. He decided over and over again that she must die and he killed her THROUGH THE GAMES THEY PLAYED TOGETHER. Poisoning the weiqi pieces. All of what she thought were private family moments were the tools of her slow murder.

While the confrontation scene she has together w Li Chuan in the novel was sincerely beautiful and literally made me cry... I SO GET her initial repulsion and urge to walk away.

[side note: I can empathize on 1 thing with SRQ - feeling he had no choice but to watch this cruel betrayal and hating himself & hating Li Chuan more and more as he watches what's happening to her... no wonder, considering what also happened to his family, he thinks of Li Chuan as a monster who must be stopped. Like, I'm not in his side at all because the nobles are fucked. But I do think his beliefs about Li Chuan are like the most normal thing about him. I also see why SRQ hates himself (cause he should) - and why he is increasingly distressed as he sees Li Rong prove in this life how little he understood her and much he underestimated her inner goodness & also her bond with PWX. All the reasons he thought he couldn't risk saving her in the 1st life were wrong. So of course this only makes him hate & resent LC more.]

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Nethys: The Arcanotheign

CR 15

Neutral Medium Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 298

As we get closer and closer to the end of Misfits and Monitors Month, here we have the penultimate Neutral Herald, and possibly the most powerful of the Heralds... when she first came out. Like many of the Heralds of the main gods, the Arcanotheign first appeared in an Adventure Path, specifically Serpent's Skull: The Thousand Fangs Below, pg. 82-83, but her case is a special one. You see, whereas most of the Heralds became more consistent or stronger with the clarified vision of their powersets and the consolidation of their abilities into keywords or magic items on their person, the initial release version of the Arcanotheign was incomparably powerful, to the point she could have easily hovered around CR 18 or even CR 20.

She had not one but four at-will abilities tied to her ranged attack that would remove their initial target from the fight instantly (including one that was outright full death by disintegration on a failed save), the ability to ignore any spell or ability that relied on alignment, the ability to heal from both positive or negative energy damage, and an aura which dealt constant damage to everything around her (while healing her as it did so). Capping it all off? Alter Objects, an ability I'm a little sad she didn't get to keep in her reprint; Alter Objects allowed her to freely reshape anything she got ahold of, changing either its shape or the material it was made out of, OR animate it via Animate Object, with basically no limitations as to how dramatically she could reshape it or what material she could turn it into besides A) she can't do both transformations at once; no turning a teddy bear into a sword and no turning a stick into adamantine and then animating it, and B) the transformation always reverted 1 minute later unless she actively concentrated to maintain the effect. It was still a bonkers ability that gave her almost godlike control over her surroundings, especially since she only had to be within 100ft of whatever she was altering. Not even touching it!

Her final iteration in Inner Sea Gods is toned down considerably, to put it mildly. I wish she kept Alter Objects in some fashion, but with the severely compressed space in ISG, I can understand why it was trimmed. She's also lost more than a few of her bells and whistles, including a handful of her spell-likes, which must be especially painful for the servant of the God of Magic! But despite all of these nerfs, ALL of them, she remains one of the most powerful Heralds in the setting. Her might is all the more startling for any fiend or foul element which catches her in her mortal form as a gray-skinned beauty that seems to have a Disney Princess-esque magnetic effect on small animals and children (she's even got +35 to Perform (Sing) checks!) and thinks she'll be easy prey, her energy form exploding from its shell and raining terrible, eldritch energy upon the attacker until they're dead or gone. And then she folds back into her human(ish) form and goes back to playing with the kids, transforming their toys into new shapes to amuse them.

Most of the children visited by the Arcanotheign are blessed with magical genius or even magical power, blooming into casters (especially sorcerers) as they age, but whether the Arcanotheign unlocks these talents or is drawn to people destined to have them is left ambiguous. Planting the seeds for future generations of casters is but one of her duties in service to Nethys, though, the others being "encourage people to use magic" and "destroy anything that tries to stop people from using magic." While most parties would thus not have a reason to get on her bad side (even the most grumbling barbarian can appreciate a magic axe and a healing potion), she unfortunately DOES serve a guy who has the unenviable title of "Mad God," and as such she may be the party's ally--or at least a neutral force--for one session, only to turn on them the next for reasons only her god understands.

She's noted to ask "personal, direct questions" to anyone she's sent to interact with, whether it's to share a vision, heal them, destroy them, or teach them, and though her target will likely never know the reason for her barrage of questions, in truth it's because she wants to know why she was sent there. Why does this particular mortal deserve this blessing or punishment? She wants to know just as much as they likely do! Despite being directly formed from Nethys' will, not even she appears to fully understand it, and most of her free time is spent contemplating the purpose of her existence and her place in creation.

But we're not here for existentialism, are we? I mentioned she may be an ally one day and an enemy the next, so let's see what happens when that happens...

Let's begin with the biggest part of her kit: You're not hurting her with magic. She serves the God of Magic, so casters have to be very clever about how they use their spells against her, because most straightforward tricks simply will not work.

Blindsight out to 60ft and Arcane Sight out to 120ft besides, illusions, invisibility, and other such trickery won't work against her unless they're solidified from shadow magic. She has 31 Spell Resistance, the highest of any Herald besides the Grand Defender (who cheats by having "SR: Infinity"), which typically means a lvl 11~13 caster needs to roll an 18 or higher to affect her with most spells... which then have to contend with her saving throws, which are also higher than most Heralds at +18/+13/+17, which is increased by an additional +2 if the source is any alignment except true Neutral, because she's got ALL FOUR Protection From [alignment] spells on herself constantly. In addition to that, she has 30 Resistance to every element except Force, including a heretofore unseen 30 Resistance against typeless divine damage from effects such as Flame Strike and Hellfire Ray, and other, more esoteric spells and abilities, all but assuring those otherwise fairly reliable damage sources cannot harm her even if she fails her saving throw.

Able to resist every element, the Arcanotheign can also throw out consistent elemental damage in return. She's surrounded on all sides by a 30ft Energy Channel Aura, which... which in ISG is a little ambiguous in its function; in the original Adventure Path printing, the aura was always active unless the Herald shut it off and dealt automatic damage constantly to any target she desired like a proper aura, but in ISG the aura's wording has been changed considerably and seems to require the magical avatar's standard action to use, like a proper Channel Energy from a Cleric. This is supported by the fact she has the Command Undead feat but no normal ability to channel energy, but in my mind, a meager 2d6 damage (of Fire, Cold, Acid, OR Electricity, mind) is too pathetic to justify the use of her standard action, so I personally choose to believe the aura is constantly pinging every enemy inside (Will DC 26 halves) and she can switch which element is flaring out at will. If you want to add some extra spice, you can give her back her ability to also deal positive or negative energy damage with her aura.

It depends on how you want to run it, I suppose. I know I like automatic damage!

There IS an important bit here: this damage is tacked on to her two incorporeal touch attacks without offering a save to resist them. These attacks deal 4d6 untyped damage and 2d6 extra energy damage depending on what her aura is tuned to, but unlike many Heralds, she really, really doesn't want to get into melee to do that. Despite her considerable defenses against magic of any sort, she's actually got the least AC of any Herald at 27, and lacks ANY form of DR or protection from weapon attacks besides the fact she's incorporeal. Side note: This also means spells which deal physical damage affect her, provided they can pierce or ignore her monstrous SR.

Her full suite of Protection From [alignment] spells means she can't be touched by any summoned creature with an alignment and her 60ft of perfect flight gives her some evasion, but that does little to dissuade the Rogue and Fighter getting Fly and speeding up to her. She doesn't even have Dispel Magic to end such effects, which is a little weird and surprising to me. What she DOES have, however, is her Eldritch Blast, a pair of ranged touch attacks she can unleash at will which deal 1d10+her Chari-- whoops hold on, wrong game, 4d6 untyped damage as ranged touch attacks, and her blasts have one of three additional effects she can tack on which can be resisted with a DC 26 save (what kind of save depends on the effect). These effects are already bad, but a character who fails two saves against the Eldritch Blast effects in the same round suffers a debilitating status ailment instead.

The effects are:

Fortitude: Every round for 10 rounds, the affected creature teleports 5ft in a random direction at the end of their turn, potentially ruining any positioning they were trying to get going. If a creature is struck by this blast twice and fails both saves, they're shunted into a Maze automatically.

Reflex: The blast deals an extra 2d6 Fire damage. Failing two saves instead causes the victim to catch fire, taking 1d6 Fire damage a round every round from there on out until they use a full-round action to put it out.

Will: The blast confuses the creature for 1 minute. Failing two saves causes permanent insanity.

Functionally, targeting Will is typically her best bet and Reflex is barely worth considering; confusion has a 75% chance to neuter or entirely remove someone's turn, though one shouldn't sleep on what she does to people with low Fortitude saves. She's got Cloudkill at 3/day and is immune to poison, allowing her to cast it directly on her own position to gradually wear away at the party's Constitution and thus lowering their ability to resist being booped around or shunted into Mazes, removing them from the battle and leaving the rest of the party open to her shenanigans.

This is actually one of the most heavily nerfed parts of her kit, because her original incarnation in The Thousand Fangs Below, where her Eldritch Blasts could also choose to tack on 10 bleed damage (failing two saves instantly killed the target), paralyze the victim for a round (failing two saves inflicts a minutes-long Slow effect), and the Fire damage was doubled in every respect. She's also lost both Cone of Cold and Fireball, but she's managed to hold onto the reliable Lightning Bolt and Telekinesis (both 3/day) at least!

And you know what else she has? Both Heal and Harm at 1/day... and Limited Wish 1/day, with all the toolbox potential that comes with it. Though neither lore blocks presented offer it as a possibility, Limited Wish can mimic any Wizard spell of 6th level or lower, and Contingency falls into that bracket. Imagine finally catching the Arcanotheign off-guard, grounding her and beating her down to 10 HP... only to have a Contingency she prepared a week ago go off, instantly casting Cure Critical Wounds on her and restoring enough of her health bar to let her get a Heal off next turn (or, if the DM wants to be generous and round up, letting her just prepare a contingent Heal). The other options aren't much better, as she has both Greater Teleport/Teleport and Plane Shift available as emergency escape buttons, and those are just what she's got on her own sheet! With access to the minds of some of the greatest mages in the universe in Nethys' home realm in the Maelstrom, she can get a scroll of a wand of almost any spell in existence (which her +28 to UMD means she can easily use) to either prepare ahead of time with Contingency, or simply use as required.

It's almost a relief that she serves one of the more unstable gods, and is thus just as likely to be sent on some meaningless nothing task as she is an important and destructive one. Most of the time, she doesn't really need her magic because of how debilitating her Eldritch Blasts can be; knowing that she has a blank check in the form of Limited Wish almost feels like unnecessary overkill... which makes the actual Theme Finale of this month all the funnier.

You can read more about her here.

[metacrisisdoctor]

it makes me sad when people say rose had no choice in the bad wolf bay ii scene because i feel like it's 'cause they get stuck on the beginning of it. people stop at "but he's not you." (by which she means that ten and tentoo have seperate bodies, not that she doesn't think tentoo is the doctor) and that's so sad because the scene is so short but so nuanced!

at first the doctor is absolutely trying to manipulate her into staying in pete's world. whether it's because he loves her or not, that is no good. and we know that; rose knows that, the doctor knows that. but he is in so much pain that he is still in his timelord body, his part-human self will be with rose and happy and all the shit davros said to him? of couse he comes at it with a "punishment" mentality for himself, because tentoo is him and he is tentoo and he hates himself- but he loves rose more than he hates himself.

after this, of course, it's donna who is able to cut through this bs and tell the meta-crisis doctor to tell rose what this is all really about ("it's better than that, though. can't you see what he's trying to give you? tell her, go on.") and from there on the entire thing is absolutely in rose's court because tentoo, in his love and his humanity and single heart - only wants her to stay with him if that's what she wants! he says IF YOU WANT. it's a major thing, that he offers her an out there even though we know how much he loves and missed her. it's just like he offered to bring her home in born again when she couldn't understand the regeneration. it's her choice to grow old with tentoo, and it's something she absolutely wants- rose wants the doctor, not the traveling (she says this in the parting of the ways)

in the end, rtd gives rose literally all of the power by having her pull both doctors aside and choose which path she is going to take.

it's so impactful because it takes the doctor trying to exile rose and his otherself to rose taking the power away from him (as she does in potw and doomsday) and reclaming her authority in her life.

this is why ten watching rose and tentoo kiss hurts so much, because it goes from him leaving them behind to him being exiled from their world and their happiness- which is the beginning of the end for him truly. and it is absolutely intentional.

this scene renders ten completely powerless in the end, until all he can do is walk back to an empty existance knowing what he could have and does have but cannot experience.

rose is special because yes, for a while, it is the universe and the traveling she loves, but it becomes much, much larger than that. it becomes her loving the doctor and pledging to not have a life we see her long for by her eagerness in tsp, to be by his side forever. whatever that would have meant. but with tentoo she chooses him because this way she gets everything she wanted and deserves, she gets to be selfish for herself, she gets to put herself before the doctors - which i think is very, very important. that's good.

it's not fair to rose to not understand that by kissing tentoo she was making an active choice to spend her life with him because by saying those words he confirmed to her that he is the man that she loves and lost and came looking for, the same way ten convinced her he was the man she became the bad wolf for by telling her the first word he said to her was "run" and taking her hand.

rose is not stupid and she is not shallow. she chose tentoo. she is still a bad bitch defending the earth and perhaps beyond with the doctor. she just also gets to keep her family and sense of self too. all the doctor ever wanted was for rose to have a good life, and somehow he got to know that she has one, because it's one spent with him and he knows how loved she will be. how loved she is, twice over in one lifetime.

[melliae]

Refraction Railway Line #2 Abnormalities Part 1 (Analysis)

The Möbius strip. The famous 2D manifold that has only one side, meaning that no matter how much you walk, you will always end up where you started. There’s no other path in front of you beyond that which endlessly repeats itself, forever.

Without escape, without release…

“Be still. Just be still, and do nothing more than breathe. For now, that’s how you must live. You cannot fly.” - ??? (Sang Yi), Chapter 48: Bud, Canto IV.

But only to the extent you allow yourself to be trapped in such a cycle, too afraid of soaring away and getting your wings hurt again.

“This is an adequate place to get off this train without getting lost. The refraction rate is already off the charts. For the first time since we embarked on this journey… I see a signpost. Maybe, this is where this railway line ends. Or maybe...this is where we meet our ends.” - Dante, Terminus: The Garden, Refraction Railway Line 2.

Nobody knows what lies beyond the known, familiar and soothing cycle, if there’s a dead end or true freedom. Nonetheless, you must walk towards it, for your and…

For Everyone’s Sake

“Are the talismans filling the room for a wish? Does this wooden doll wish for anything?” - Abnormality Encounter.

An effigy is, in essence, a sculptural representation of someone or something made with the express purpose of acquiring the dignity of that person/thing: whatever happens to the effigy, it will happen to its “model”. Yet one has to wonder what a stiff, featureless wooden doll represents? What kind of person can even begin to bear that quantity of curses on them?

No one.

No human can hope to be strong and resilient enough to carry all that hatred, despair, and sadness. Only a copy of one can do such a thing, especially crafted to be a faceless caricature that will never amount to anything more than that—no one.

It will be forever trapped in that room, bearing all the evils of the world because someone has to do it, and what better “person” to do it than the one specifically made to do so? It can’t wish to be anything but the nameless scapegoat of humanity, the star that weeps for everyone.

“When we look up at our sky… all we see is a pinch of muddled light. But here… I can see lone stars looking down at us. Since the city I can see from here is filled with cries of pain and despair… I’d rather… gaze down at people from the loneliness up in the sky and shed tears with them…” - Unknown Boy, Blossoming League of Nine Littérateurs, Canto IV.

I implied in my post about the RR3’s Abnormalities that Siltcurrent represents the experiences and memories of Mermaids at some level. Thus, it shouldn’t be surprising that the Tearful Thing, a human monstrosity with a boundless heart that cries for all misfortunes that befall people, can also participate in the creation of an Abnormality.

However, So That No One Will Cry (“STNOWC” from now on) is not only a manifestation of the Tearful Thing’s trauma and wishes; it’s also one for Yi Sang’s past conflict to an extent.

“Those were the kinds of achievements we accomplished in T Corp’s district. Which is why… I became more engrossed in the mirror. Untainted, unadulterated… I wished to immerse myself in the pure exploration of knowledge. So that… I wouldn’t have to take anything from anyone.” - Yi Sang, Blossoming League of Nine Littérateurs, Canto IV.

It isn’t a coincidence that its namesake skill, “So That No One Will Cry”, is Gloom-based: the expression of bottomless despair born from witnessing the evils of the world and those who one has caused. After all, who doesn’t know the bitterness of not wanting to do anything after doing or getting something wrong? The taste of the lies when someone asks you how you are doing? Those countless cases of martyrs for their loved ones? Maybe that’s why its mid-combat Event has Sloth advantage, because it keep things as they are and were, with the burden being too much to bear for the chosen Sinner.

At the end, someone has to cry, to purge all the accumulated pain, and you can't really be bothered with it.

… But as Project Moon does, things aren’t that simple: for some reason, all STNOWC’s remaining skills are Lust-based and give Cursed Talismans on hit. This last effect can be easily attributed to a mere side effect by the Abnormality’s attack or activity in general, as its mid-combat Event and Logs suggest. The Lust affinity, on the other hand, is a bit more tricky, though thankfully I already explained it in my RR4 post: Lust, in its most general form, corresponds to the Sin of love and passion, which is something STNOWC has in spades—an absolutely selfless love that leads it to carry countless curses.

“We start removing every single talisman in the room. The wooden doll paces here and there, uneasy and anxious. We ignore it and continue removing the talismans. As we were almost finished with removing the talismans, the wooden doll stands before the Sinners as though to tell them that enough is enough.” - Abnormality Encounter.

And like a great part of the Sin’s examples in the game, STNOWC is heavily attached to its role as a bearer of pain too, not wanting to abandon it by any means. This situation is repeated somewhat when you choose to remove the Doll’s talismans, despite the final ambiguity presented by Dante at the end. Personally, I think the Abnormality is ultimately afraid of someone else carrying the talismans.

“The wooden doll at the center seemed to be liberated from a binding force. It walked to you, offering an object.” - Abnormality Encounter.

Because even when you give it freedom through choosing to remove the room’s talismans, STNOWC decides to give you a copy of itself, as if to say that you should still use it to carry curses, brushing aside your sacrifice. 

Such stubborn behavior makes the Sin advantages of the previous choice pretty ironic: you either don’t want the Doll to be trapped by your sins out of a slothful refusal to change, or, more importantly, because you hate allowing someone to bear all that suffering alone. And by that matter, the Abnormality’s weakness to Wrath is explained by that last part, because just as well have felt on some level the bitterness of hiding things from others, the frustration that comes from a loved one doing the same surely is familiar; but no matter how much you worry about them, if that loved one keeps ignoring or rejecting any and all help, only a wrathful worry can truly “save” them, and not more (misdirected) love (which in turn explains its resistance to Lust).

At any rate, the main idea should be obvious at this point, about how the answer to suffering isn’t to make someone carry it in complete solitude; that’s nothing but wishful and magical thinking. To stop the pain you must share it, just like the Talismans in both the battle and with Red Sheet Sinclair, lest everything becomes too heavy for anyone to bear.

Only when everyone shares their curses, truly no one will have to cry.

Refusing to Change

“Did the Steam Transport Machine return to when it was first produced? Leaving behind everything it’s gone through. The older the machine gets, the more of itself it will have to reconstruct.” - Mid-Combat Event.

By definition, meaning must exist in our lives. That’s not an idea anyone can argue against, because I’m not even speaking about any sort of metaphysical reality, let alone some kind of deeper, transcendental truth. It’s all a simple psychological fact: the drive to find (or construct, or whatever word you fancy) is an essential fundament of our psyche, of who we are as a species. We are literally programmed to see them anywhere, anytime, and we can’t function without one.

However, just as the outside world keeps on changing, so does our inner reality, and with it what we hold (or held) as true fades away. Thus, when confronted with the reality of our meaning—our life—disappearing to never return, despair sets in and we wonder what we will do. The answer, as most things in life, depends on the individual, but Steam Transport Machine surely shows what a sizable amount of people did and do.

“Hohmm… ‘twasn’t that it released tiny machines to repair itself; it was as though it un—did the damages that had already transpired.” - Don Quixote, Abnormality’s Observation Log #1.

To regress to the past. To act as if things haven't changed, or to try to restore them to what they were. That’s what the Accumulated Past mechanic is all about, being reflective of the work the Machine does and thus the turns the battle is taking, with a higher count indicating an increase in the use and degradation of its body; RR2 follows the same principle, though it was tied to the overall “time” (i.e., turns)  the Sinners took.

Now, since the “past” is “accumulated”, asking where it’s stored is a natural question, and the Logs, the MD Encounter and the mid-combat Event give an obvious answer: Steam Machine’s past is 100% literally gathered in the nixie tubes (incorrectly called “vacuum tube” by Don) in its body. In fact, reducing the number shown by the tubes allows the Abnormality to return to a previous, less damaged state, as seen in its “Returning Past” passive. You can compare it to save scumming in a way.

Accumulated Past is so important for Steam Machine that it literally affects every other part of its kit, including its Poise or, as stated by Don in the Observation Logs, steam generation… or it should in theory.

While Don seems to be pretty sure about the relationship, there’s no gameplay element that reflects such a relation. The closest thing to it are how some of its skills do more damage based on the Machine’s Accumulated Past, and its RR2 exclusive passive, “Overlapping Past”, which grants it 1 Attack Power Up for every 80 Accumulated Past. It’s possible to make the connection between “more steam means more skills used, and more skills used means more turns”, but I don’t think the Logs referred to that…

At any rate, “Overlapping Past” is a curious name, because it implies that Steam Machine is somehow overlapping (duh) its past states within its current one to achieve greater strength in every attack. Something equally interesting happens with its other passive, “Metronome”, named for the instrument used to set a regular tempo by musicians and dancers to help maintain the rhythm in their work, which means the Steam Machine’s Accumulated Past helps it to set the “speed” of the fight, explaining the defenses and attack modifiers acquired through the tube’s numbers.

All of that clearly shows the Accumulated Past is not some sort of abstraction or symbol for something else; it’s an essential part of the Abnormality. Its past is a tangible reality to which it can not only return, but also clearly manifest in the present, and that ultimately controls it. In fact, one may say that the past is the thing that makes up Steam Machine’s own existence, as shown with the story presented through its skill set.

Beginning with the two “oldest” skills as indicated by their names, “853” and “5384”, these are Sloth-based and thus indicate the mindset the Machine had “back there”: a complete lack of zeal for its “work”, mindlessly carrying luggage without any deeper consideration about its existence. Such a state is as soulless and robotic as you get… or maybe not. Maybe that is its soul, its entire being from which its very own sense of self and thus pride grew as defenses against its meaninglessness, as shown with the Pride skills, “6463” and “6753”.

“A purposeless machine is bound to lose the meaning of its existence, even if it is functional.” - Abnormality Encounter

But it doesn’t matter how many swords are used to defend one’s ego, everything inevitably has to change, especially within Steam Machine’s absurd lifespan. Thus, when confronted with that truth, what can it do besides raging against the world, as “6475384” demonstrates? It’s unknown if it was betrayed, abandoned or something along those lines, but its hatred is a real and dangerous thing; we all know the horrifying things people and even we can do in order to make our lives feel meaningful (again).

And finally, at the end lies “974569A”, the only possible destination a being that refuses to change can arrive at: envy for all those who can move beyond a monotonous existence, finding meaning within their selves that change with every step of their journeys. For the first time, the Machine finds itself broken in a way its ability can’t erase, for it has gone through an untold quantity of time trying to hold onto the only thing it has through reliving its past, all the while ignoring that single, insulting fact.

This understanding is reflected in its Sin resistances too, especially to Sloth since it’s touched upon when you choose “order it to do nothing” during its Encounter: because it was made with the purpose of carrying things and do work in general, Steam Machine will simply blow up when confronted against a situation in which it can’t do anything, unable to fulfill its only purpose. That’s to say, the Machine won’t give up on its meaning and core essence by any means, despite its own affinity for inertia and refusal to change, which in turn explains its resistance to both Pride and Gloom—it’s too stubborn and bitter to question its ways, let alone be distracted by the despair of losing its meaning.

Steam Machine will keep doing the same, over and over again, for all eternity. And you, the Player, are the only one who can free it from its self-created cycle.

“It was working ceaselessly. The machine has never stopped working since its pressurized, scalding hot steam turned its first gears. We must break the cycle in which it has long been trapped to continue on our path.” - Dante, Station #2: Servitude, Refraction Railway Line 2.

However, during its Encounter, you are also free to perpetuate it through your own indolence and needs.

“Machines exist for a purpose. You feel like you should give it an order.” - Abnormality Encounter.

That’s the reason behind the Sloth and Gluttony advantages in the “order it to carry luggage” choice, and why Steam Machine kind of “turns off” in case you fail the check: the order lacked a purpose, an actual need behind it. But that leaves the Envy advantage unexplained, because what does a Sinner’s envy has to do with the purpose of an order? The only answer I can come up with is that the advantage reflects a twisted desire to maintain the cycle out of fear the Machine might one day break it, to bring it down along with the chosen Sinner. And considering how susceptible and weak the Abnormality is to Envy, it’s plausible.

But if you, ignoring and tempering your own fears and necessities, decide to help it through destroying the cycle in which it trapped itself, there’s only one thing you must do: to break its nixie tubes. Only there, with its past misplaced and lost, out of the shadow of what happened, Steam Machine can truly begin to live in the present, unbounded by the refusal to let go of its past, creating its own life instead of endlessly repeating all it has done.

Maybe that’s why its mid-combat Event has a Gloom advantage, for it’s hard to suppress that desire to act as if nothing has changed. It’s a path full of despair and anxiety that most people fear. Nonetheless, you must walk towards the future and live in the now, because when you take the first, second, third step forward, you will realize it.

Changing isn’t as painful as you think it is.

Note: For those who still haven’t noticed it, all of the enemy debuffs during RR2 are inspired by the non-history Abnos + Fairy duo. In Steam Transport Machine’s case, the buff corresponds to “Hardening”, with the icon literally being the nixie tubes.

Umbrellas of Love

“There is no way to know why the fox remained buried under the umbrellas, but perhaps removing them all will inspire it to move to a different spot. The fox gently holds the old and worn umbrella in its mouth and yips at us, as though it did not want us to take it away.” - Abnormality Encounter.

Driftig Fox is an interesting Abnormality, because I believe is the only who has an excerpt of the Lobotomy Corp.’s original documents, and four different iterations of its EGO: Sunshower Yi Sang, Sunshower Outis, Lobotomy EGO Heathcliff, and Lobotomy EGO Dongbaek. It has a lot of material to analyze, to the point I really don’t know where to begin… So I think its overall kit is a good place to start.

Unlike the previous two Abnormalities, the Fox lacks any gimmicky status, making its fight quite straightforward. The closest thing to Talismans and Accumulated Past is its Gloom skill, “Cries Seeking Something”, that normally allows it to summon Old Umbrellas, which in turn have access to a single Gloom skill that inflicts both Rupture and Sinking. In RR2, the end result is the same despite the differences in mechanics.

From this, we can obviously deduce that hopelessness, despair, and the like are the core part of its existence, with even its defense skill, “Waiting”, reducing the Sinners’ SP through pity alone (apparently). That much is obvious, mentioned even by the Logs.

“In particular... it sometimes does nothing and waits, but the attack that comes after was especially powerful. ...Huh. The fox... sometimes cries.  Looking at the sky, howling for long... as if it's laying bare some kind of sorrow into the sky.” - Sinclair, Abnormality’s Observation Log #2.

But that’s not all, because, just as the effect of its skill shows, the Fox focuses on its survival too. The RR2 version of the skill demonstrates it better, since it gives it the special status “Protection Umbrellas”, which grants it Protection scaling with the former’s quantity; that’s to say, the Old Umbrellas are meant to shield the Fox from the rain, apparently lodging into its body as answer to its cry. The normal version lacks the mechanic and directly summons the Umbrellas, though the overall meaning is kept the same.

This desperate desire for survival is represented by its two Gluttony skills, “Sorrowful Recoil” and “Sorrowful Torrent”, used only by its umbrella-perforated body: even if they are painful and make contact with others unbearable, causing it to recoil, the Fox “gladly” accepts such mutilations in order to survive. This behavior is reflected perfectly in the excerpt I quoted under the image, from the “take the gathered umbrellas” option, and in a couple of battle mechanics:

Its passive, “Last Struggle”, causes the Abnormality to desperately call for help every turn when it’s on its last legs (less than 15% HP), getting weaker and slower every turn. Naturally, those who answer will do everything they can to protect it (Umbrellas with 30% more HP).

Based on the name and effects, the Umbrellas’ “Scattering Sorrow” skill seems to represent how they try to perforate the Sinners and deflect the rain towards them, despite how tattered they are.

It doesn’t matter if one likes it or not, the Old Umbrellas are the only “shield” the Fox has and knows, and they will try their best to protect it… which makes Sinclair’s conclusion in the Logs much more horrifying.

“I, I see where it's coming from. We have to take away the worn umbrellas on that poor child, and embrace it ourselves. We-” - Sinclair, Abnormality’s Observation Log #3.

At first glance, it sounds perfectly fine and sensible, repeating the information given by the fragment of L Corp.’s document in Dongbaek’s Log. However, we know that Sinclair felt bad for destroying the Fox’s umbrellas (for a reason) thanks to the second log, and that removing them as well would have caused the Fox greater pain, as seen in many parts:

Its “Broken Umbrella” passive grants it 3 Fragile every turn once its umbrella-filled body is broken (during a normal fight; the RR2 version was modified to be harder I believe).

The Umbrellas actively hurt the Fox through applying “Umbrella Splinters” once they are destroyed. This happens with Sunshower Dongbaek too, but through degrading her mind with Sinking instead of applying Rupture to her body.

In the RR2 version, two unique Glooms counters were added to its kit, “Volatile Response” for the body and “Volatile Reaction” for the head. Taking into account their names, the Thorns they grant on use, and the previous mechanics, it’s quite obvious what they represent.

And finally, there’s the “pull out the umbrellas” option in the Encounter

“Those umbrellas seem to be causing it pain. When you pull them out with force, bits of its flesh come off with them. The fox yelped sharply and gave us a glare. Then, it smacked you with the umbrella in its mouth. It seemed to reprimand your attitude of pursuing resolution without forethought.” - Abnormality Encounter.

It’s quite telling that Heathcliff—the one who has the Identity with the Sunshower Lobotomy EGO—was the one that snapped (somewhat literally) Sinclair out of his “panic” state

Don’t misunderstand, though. There's no doubt about how the umbrellas harm and bring pain to the Fox, but living in such a state is much more preferable for it than being in pain and exposed to the rain simultaneously. In fact, this paradoxical, self-destructive drive to survive is also seen in Dongbaek’s kit—with two of her skills aptly named “Self-defense” and “Sink It All”—and Outis’ Sunshower, which, beyond her Gluttony affinity, has an interesting contrast between the Awakening and Corrosion voicelines 

“I don't need... any pointless attention!” - Outis (Sunshower), EGO Awakening.

“Don't—leave me this time…” - Outis (Sunshower), EGO Corrosion.

I normally don’t do this, since EGOs are better reserved for a character analysis. But I’m going to do an exception for this version of Sunshower due to how well it translates the Fox’s ambivalence regarding the “affection” given by people: at its best, the Abnormality knows that the people called by its cry will only hurt it, notwithstanding their good intentions; at its worst, it accepts any and all attention without care of the resulting pain, as long as it can take refuge from the rain, however small it is.

At the end, it doesn’t matter how many people come to its help, Drifting Fox will forever remain out in the open, constantly assaulted by the rain as it wanders in dark and damp alleyways, for the umbrellas are too old and worn to be of any help. That’s why it will always be hungry for more, too scared and distrustful of people to not allow itself to be touched and thus satiated, explaining both its affinity and weakness to Gloom and Gluttony.

… But there’s something else regarding the Fox, something that doesn’t fit with its perpetual hunger for a place to rest: why does it keep on crying for help instead of just moving out of the rain? Why does it insist on roaming the darkest, most humiliating places? Those questions were implied in the first quote of this section (again), and then by the two Lobotomy EGO versions.

“Look. See how she is helplessly caught in the falling rain. She must have no intention of avoiding it. She is simply showering herself and all others in the rain…” - Yi Sang, Dogbaek’s Observation Log.

“But… When I'm done, the chill reminds me that I'm alone. I go back to wandering damp, dark alleys… Now I can hardly sleep anywhere else.” - Heathcliff, Lobotomy EGO Uptie Story.

Due to their circumstances in which they are, both Dongbaek and TLA Heathcliff are stubborn individuals trying to bring great changes to the City, with the latter even planning to “go back [somewhere] with pride” after creating a world without technology—to keep enjoying life. Yet, in the following quotes he states that he has no friends left and rejects all sources of possible comfort, sleeping in the cold streets, akin to how Dongbaek lets herself exposed to the rain without care.

What I’m implying here is that the Fox ultimately doesn’t care about stopping its suffering once and for all. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t know better, or because it finds comfort in the pain; there’s no way for us to know. Even so, it keeps on crying out loud for people as it refuses to move on from the circumstances in which it as abandoned, as seen with its RR2 exclusive passive “Vain Heart”, the source of the Protection Umbrella status and that which allows it to summon Old Umbrellas through its defense skill—through Waiting.

This unwillingness to change and simply move on is the last thing that characterizes Drifting Fox, as seen with Lobotomy EGO Heathcliff’s third skill and Sunshower Yi Sang, with their Sloth affinity. Naturally, it’s also reflected on the remaining skills of the Abnormality, all of them being Sloth-based except for the (RR2 exclusive) Gloom skill, “Pleading Cries”, though the name does fit with the Fox’s “vanity”… or better said, its pity-inducing nature.

That’s why all the Sloth skills inflict Sinking, for they are representations of the dangerous notion that one day the Fox is going to receive what it truly wants if it remains on such poor conditions, instead of more unwanted attention. Its last passive, “Ragged Umbrella”, lends the most on such “tactic”, allowing it to inflict more Sinking once the umbrella in its mouth (i.e., its head) is broken and rendered “useless”.

However, nothing really suggests that Drifting Fox is deliberately manipulating people. By definition it can’t due to its fully animalistic nature. If there’s someone to blame, it would be the people that are unable to stand the sight of ugly and miserable things tainting their day, just like when it rains during sunny days. Nevertheless, such events happen, and the solution isn’t simply to lash out against that ugliness without forethought (likely explaining its Wrath resistance), but to simply celebrate it—to share the love during the “wedding of the fox”.

“Its growl recedes. You stroke it once more, and it closes its eyes, pleased. You stroke it once more, and it settles on the ground, comforted. You stroke it once more, and it shrinks to become a statue.” - Abnormality Encounter.

When it finally finds what it wants, the Fox can rest in peace knowing it’s in good hands. That’s the reason behind the Lust advantage of the “pet the fox” option, with the Sloth advantage being its total opposite—utter apathy and indifference for its surroundings and appearance, lacking any judgment or reaction. The Pride advantage is similar to the Lust one, though much more self-centered for obvious reasons; less sensual and warm, but more confident in a way.

Now, beyond trying to comfort it, there’s also another method to confront the Abnormality, shown with the mid-combat Event, where the chosen Sinner is sent to approach the Fox and its Umbrellas. Since it has Gloom advantage, it’s easy to see how the identities who are most familiar with despair and pain are able to reach the epiphany the Fox lacks easier than any other: that its cries and thus the umbrellas are ultimately unneeded. That revelation is so shocking that it even causes the Old Umbrellas to lose 30% of their HP, representing their loss of meaning.

“The umbrellas look like they've been standing there for Wings know how long trying to protect the fox, but it certainly doesn't seem like they're doing a good job at it.” - Mid-Combat Event.

Although, things are a little more complicated than just “waiting for the rain to stop”, since the Fox is already waiting, isn't it? In fact, that mentality is its main problem, and what led Yi Sang to not do anything when Dongrang began to doubt himself.

“Some considered the assemblage to be mere noise… While some considered the commotion to be growth. As for me… I saw it slantwise as always. As heavy rain might pour for days after a spell of clear skies… I saw no meaning in attempting to fathom the caprices of the weather. Yi Sang: I would simply wait for things to calm, looking out for the day’s arrival.” - Rowdy League of Nine Littérateurs, Canto IV.

And we can’t forget K Corp. eagerly “awaiting” for the Tearful Thing to cry, nor the bitter conclusion of Dongrang right before the Fox’s battle, about how there was no need for him to do anything thanks to K Corp.’s ampules.

Waiting for the end of things you can’t change is good and all, but sometimes doing nothing can actively worsen things. So even if you can’t do much, you still must stand up and brace yourself to fight against misery, unless you want it to consume and rust you like it does with the “little world” that surrounds you.

“I ran off and roamed the Backstreets like a thrown away umbrella until they took me in…” - Heathcliff, Lobotomy EGO Uptie Story.

“We know, however, that the umbrellas piercing its body are not there for the rain. For the fox has not once opened them for itself.” - Dante, Station #3: Rainfall, Refraction Railway Line 2.

And naturally, what better way to confront the rain than through sharing an umbrella~?

Devouring Lives

“The fairy's smile stretches into an eerie grin. The strangeness didn't need to be pointed out for everyone to share the same sentiment. Even though we knew we shouldn't trust things by the looks, we still fell for it. We'll have to pay the price for it.” - Abnormality Encounter.

Everyone should know what kind of being are fairies within the British Isles’ folklore by now. It’s one of “curiosities you must know” repeated ad nauseam in every article, video or media that deals with them in any capacity, no matter how bare-bones the actual explanation is. Thus, there’s no need for me to explain in-depth those aspects, especially when you consider all the other fairy-related Abnormalities that Project Moon has created.

So to begin, Faelatern isn’t really that connected to Midsummer Night’s Dream beyond its tricky behavior, despite what the name of its first EGO gift, “Midwinter Nightmare”, may suggest. There’s a complete lack of commentaries regarding the play’s main theme, the fickleness and irony of love (or Lust, in Limbus), which seems to have been replaced by the predatoriness of the “fairy” itself, cunningly acting upon its gluttony instead of… any other goal, really.

However, a parallel with a certain character of the story can still be drawn: Puck, the servant of the fairy king Oberon. This is not solely due to his role as the one who charms and tricks the human characters of the play and queen Titania herself, but also thanks to one of his folkloric sources, the celtic púca/pwca/pooka.

The legends of the púca, as most stories, are varied, but they mostly focus on the fairy’s penchant to trick (mostly drunk) people during the night, shapeshifting into diverse animals to offer them a ride to their homes… just to lead them anywhere but there. Still, there’s a particular version I think is important to the Abnormality, the one that came from “British Goblins: Welsh Folklore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions” by Wirt Sikes:

“Pwca, or Pooka, is but another name for the Ellylldan, as our Puck is another name for the Will-o’-wisp; but in both cases the shorter term has a more poetic flavour and a wider latitude. [...] This form presents a peasant who is returning home from his work, or from a fair, when he sees a light travelling before him. Looking closer he perceives that it is carried by a dusky little figure, holding a lantern candle at arm’s length over its head. He follows it for several miles, and suddenly finds himself on the brink of a frightful precipice. From far down below there rises to his ears to his ears the sound of a foaming torrent. At the same time the little goblin with the lantern springs across the chasm, alighting on the opposite side; raises the light again high over its head, utters a loud and malicious laugh, blows out its candle and disappears up the opposite hill, leaving the awestruck peasant to get home as best he can.”

As far as I know, the equalization between the púca and the will-o’-wisp isn’t common, but it kinda fits at the end: both entities (commonly) lead astray people that decide to accept their help/follow them. One can even say the play supports this, with Puck claiming that he can appear like “fire” as he leads people through “bogs, bushes, brakes, and briers” during the third act, despite the more well-known domestic nature of the hobgoblin—an aspect that is present at some level in Faelatern’s illusion.

In more than one sense the Abnormality is a distorted mirror of the three fairies: while the púca, the will-o’-wisp and the puck/hobgoblin act during the night, either through helping people or causing (relatively speaking) harmless scares, Faelantern presents itself during the day as a homely and mysterious light that promises rest to people, with its true nature as a voracious abyss lying underneath the “fairy fire”.

If the púca/puck causes all sorts of pranks and tricks that, as the literary Puck said, are no different from dreams, then Faelatern is a nightmare that begins with a hypnotizing beauty whose true nature will soon be learned and never forgotten.

… And yeah, that’s the possible inspiration behind this Abnormality, and the hard part to analyze. The rest of it, like its skills and game mechanic, are quite self-explanatory:

“Snagged Lure”, “Burrowing Roots” and “Encroaching Stems” are all Gluttony skills to represent how survival-driven Faelantern is.

“Expanding Roots” is Sloth-based thanks to its Modus Operandi, resting and waiting in a single place until a prey appears.

The “Leading Lure”, “Evolving Lure” and “Charmed” passives explain how it works, continuously trying to “improve” its Fairy Lure to catch more people.

The “Broken Stump” reinforces the Gluttony affinity, with the Abnormality focusing on stealing the nutrients so it can (apparently) restore its broken body.

Lastly, and as curiosity, the “Fairy Dust” passive is an obvious reference to another fairy, Tinker Bell. But where her dust allows people to fly, Faelantern’s dust only makes them faster and more agile (i.e., Poise).

The only part of its kit that requires a higher level of interpretation is the passive and Pride skill that share the name, “Uncovered Abyss”. In tandem, the two elements likely point that, whatever higher thinking the Abnormality has, it’s more preoccupied with a self-absorbed appreciation of itself as an “abyss” that devours everything in the forest than with meaningfully improving its hunting tactics.

Another element that requires further analysis is, obviously, its weaknesses. While Faelantern’s resistances to Gluttony and Gloom should be obvious, being a monster that fully accepts its hunger and that genuinely doesn’t care about anything else, it being weak to Pride and Lust likely derive from how those dispositions can interfere with the Abnormality’s behavior: a pride that sees the Fairy’s “gift” as useless or irrelevant from the get-go, or maybe messing with its (lack of) love in a no so dissimilar way to Midsummer’s Puck.

And finally, there’s the mid-combat Event with Sloth advantage, implying that one needs to be “guided” by the Lure without question or care to destroy it along with the question given: Who will answer the bait?

I like to think that part shows the underlying meaning of the Abnormality, how it’s a symbol for an all-devouring thing that conceals itself through charm and light. It may be a person, an organization, or even an ideology; it doesn’t matter, because all it smokes and mirrors, a trick, a sick and twisted hoax. Faelantern doesn’t care about anything else but to satisfy the gaping hole of its “stomach”, unlike, say, Siltcurrent and Skin Prophet, who completely believe their own delusions.

You should always take care when you walk the (dark) forest of life, for no matter how bright it may be, disguised predators are bound to appear.

Note: Following the pattern I mentioned in Steam Machine’s section, Faelantern’s buff corresponds to “Inhaling”. The symbol likely represents the Abnormality’s stump/branches forming into a mouth to “steal nutrients”, which is also seen in its EGOs’ healing (beyond its own passives, of course).

Post-Commentary

This time I bring the first four Abnormalities of RR2. I began to write about them a couple of weeks after I finished the RR3 post, before RR4. However, since I only have one of the Abnormalities for the next part done (Shock Centipede), the second post will take some more time. Not much though, considering Wayward Passenger and Sign of Roses are on the easier side to analyze.

Anyway, in regards to some other thoughts I had while writing… I already commented how Steam Machine and Portrait of a Certain Day are similar on how they represent the weight of the past. The difference falls, I suppose, in that one is born out of love and nostalgia, while the other out of fear—Steam Machina lives to work, unable and fearful to imagine any other life beyond what it has done from its birth.

Another thing I wish to note is about Faelantern, since while I’m pretty sure about its meaning, it’s not so in the folkloric inspiration. In the first place I searched about the Will-o’-Wisp since the Lure acted like one in a way, and I found (in wikipedia, naturally) that the púca may be related to it. I lost a couple of days watching videos about it xD I wonder if Fairy Gentleman and Long-Legs will have a similar inspiration…

And since we are speaking about a “fairy”, I think it is funny that Drifting Fox is a trauma-related Abnormality and not a fairy-tale one, despite its EGO name’s origin. So instead of focusing on any folkloric element, I tried to see the meaning behind the colloquial names of sunshowers: the devil beating his wife (or doing anything undevil), or an animal’s wedding. I ultimately reached the conclusion it was because, just like animals or the devil don’t actually get wedded, there shouldn’t be a rain during a sunny day. It’s something that doesn't make sense.

[omg-hellgirl]

I’m glad there is some level of awareness of Angie’s contributions (creative and otherwise) to David Bowie’s success & legacy. For a man who was a god to the “freaks” of the 1970s, especially during the glam rock / glitter rock era of the 70s, I perceive his dynamic with Angie as a mirror of the corporate world / sexism in the corporate world (and in society in general) where women are exploited for their brilliant ideas and/or have credit taken from them by men. Like, absolutely love David Bowie’s music… so, so much. Just an infuriating analogy I’ve noticed. Sick of women being exploited in general but especially for their intelligence and creativity.

hey anon, thank you for saying that. Angie Bowie was part of David Bowie's story and actively contributed to it, mainly by encouraging him towards the glam rock path that EVERYONE appreciates him for. Not taking away his merit as a good singer and performer, but there is more than one account of Angie pushing him in that direction and supporting him; she was a force in his early career. It's absolutely frustrating that David (according to Angie HERSELF) and his fans have always tried to erase her.

For those who don't know (most of them): Angie studied in Switzerland and had and theatrical experience — years of it! And unlike David and his friends/associates, including the people in charge of managing and promoting him, she had nine-tenths of a degree in marketing.

Angie was very popular with Bowie fans in the 70s and was very kind to them. She spent hours answering fan letters and even wrote to them from JAPAN. She fought in Japan with the local police to defend them. After the divorce, David's attitude changed and over the years his fans became what they are today.

It's a shame that many fail to recognize the extremely sexist and absurd attitudes he had towards Angie just because they don't like her. Ask any of them why they don't like her and you will get an unsatisfactory answer either because David himself didn't like her or because she said something about David in public that they didn't like.

I won't put it all here — there is all the content on my blog under the Angie Bowie tag — but in her book it is implied that he even used photos of her in sexual moments with other people to put her at a disadvantage in court. Would this be acceptable by today's standards, or any standards? Do we have a name for men who do this nowadays? Also:

Angie attempted suicide in Switzerland at Christmas time in 1977, when she arrived and found out that Zowie, contrary to her expectations, was in Berlin with David.

He put a gag clause in the divorce to force her to keep quiet. Not very feminist or cool, right? Not very liberal. Wearing skirts and makeup and all the gender revolution didn't help him be a better human being with Angie.

Is there anything to be called besides Parental Alienation for a mother who in 2016, even after David's death, needs to send messages to her own son via Twitter?

How many years of being away from his mother and knowing about her only through David's distorted words did it take so that even after David's death they didn't have a mother-son relationship again.

No one has the right to disrupt a mother-son or father-son relationship, and that's what he did. His fans still won't admit it.

Anita Pallenberg, Yoko Ono, and Angie Bowie are demonized while fans can forgive paternal neglect, domestic assault, hard drugs, underage girls, and the parental alienation of several rock stars. I'm definitely aware of and recognize the sexism and, dare I say, misogyny of some fandoms.

Thanks again for this, anon. These aren't even all the sordid details of the pain David Bowie inflicted on his first wife. It's also not possible to describe all my sadness about this situation — I could spend hours talking and crying about it. I'll keep posting about Angie in the hopes that one day the blindfold will fall off people's faces.

‼️and shout out to Keith Richards who never belittled the role and influence that Anita Pallenberg had on him and in the whole rock history even though she hurt him badly; he was always FAIR and respectful to the mother of his three children‼️

[laughroditee]

Your Ghost | a COD fanfic - Part 1 - Knight of Swords

CW: this story takes place after Soap's death and contains supernatural elements, tarot, mentions of death and blood

I didn't want to make the chapters too long (I'm unsure what the proper netiquette is for word count), so it will continue in subsequent posts.

Summary: An American tarot reader finds herself inextricably linked to John MacTavish, whose ghost needs a favor from her before he can rest.

Mood Music:

The first time I knew something was wrong was a few months ago when, out of nowhere, an excruciating pain shot through my head, causing me to scream and promptly pass out.  The dreams that followed in my unconsciousness were heavy and sad: bagpipes at a funeral playing their mournful melody for a person I didn’t know.  I had been at work that day, like any other day, but when I woke up, I was in the hospital.  Doctors ran so many tests on me, thinking perhaps I’d had a brain aneurysm, but scans of my brain were clear, and subsequent tests showed that I was right as rain.  Totally healthy.  I returned to my everyday life, with the only complication being the inexplicable migraines that continued to plague me.

Then came the wanderlust.  The nasal sound of bagpipes continued to wheedle their way into my dreams, and pretty soon, I became possessed with the need to go to the UK.  It became a matter of life and death.  I didn’t even have a passport, but knew I had to go.  Where exactly, I wasn’t even sure.  Scotland would make sense, considering the bagpipes, but my gut said no.  No, that’s not right.

So I did what any good woo-woo witchy person would do: I pulled out a map of the UK and my pendulum and asked for assistance narrowing down my intended destination.  Stilling my mind, I took a deep breath, focusing on the amethyst pendulum dangling from my hand.  The crystal twitched and spun before swinging slightly right, south on the map.  I followed the pendulum south over Scotland, past Northern England, toward London, but the crystal had other ideas, sending me back north.  It spun in circles around a location: Manchester.

That’s how, months later (had to wait for my passport), I found myself at the Brittania Hotel in Manchester, in one of their “standard twin rooms without a window.”  I never really knew how much I liked windows until I didn’t have one, but that’s beside the point.  At least I got a private bathroom, a coffee maker, and a TV, so I can’t complain too much for $44 per night.  Besides, this entire trip was an exercise in insanity, so why not add in some sensory deprivation while we’re at it?

As soon as I stood on UK soil, I knew this was the right place; that intuitive nudge felt like a soothing affirmation.  And that’s a great thing because simply being up in the air triggered another migraine, and I was afraid I’d puke on the guy next to me.  After unpacking my bag in the hotel room, I flipped a card from my tarot deck: The Knight of Swords.

The Knight of Swords talks about action, as all Knight cards do.  There’s a sense of motion, movement, and moving forward inherent there, with The Knight of Swords having the connotation of almost overwhelmingly swift movement; in fact, you can interpret it as needing to take heed that you’re not leaping before you’re looking.  (What irony.)  But that’s only one part of the story as the suit of the card will tell you what’s moving.  Swords in the tarot represent the element of air, so all things related to logic, ideas, communication, words, writing, and thoughts.  Holistically, you can interpret The Knight of Swords as needing to make sure you check your words before you say things so that you become aware of any potential obstacles on this path that you’re charging down. But, ultimately, you have the clarity of mind to overcome any challenges.  Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

However, the court cards in tarot can also signify people: kings as men or masculine energy, queens as women or feminine energy, and pages as children or youthful energy.  Knights, though, are tricky.  They can symbolize people of any gender, anywhere from age twenty-five up to forty, people who move in and out of our lives, physical travel, change, or pure energy and where you’re focusing it.  It can be hard to know what the “correct” interpretation is in any given reading, with so many meanings to consider, but I usually just go with my gut or pull some more cards for context.  In this case, why not both?

Pulling two more cards from the deck, I laid them out on the bed next to the first one: Death and the Three of Swords.  Contrary to popular belief, the Death card doesn’t usually mean death or foretell of someone dying.  It means change and transformation, the end of a cycle and the beginning of a new one.  The Three of Swords features an illustration with three swords stabbing through a bleeding heart: heartbreak, but sometimes literal heart health problems.

"Wow, bad day," I said as I looked over the cards.

I suddenly felt a presence in the room that wasn’t there a minute ago, the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms standing on end.

"Ye finally made it, lass."

My head whirled around so fast that the ends of my bobbed hair stabbed me in the eye.  I shot to my feet, spilling the rest of my cards to the floor.  “Fuck!” I whined, cradling my stinging, watering eye as I stumbled backward. 

Deep, apparently very amused laughter rang out in the room, and I was astonished to see a man there, wearing some kind of military getup, a mohawk cut into his dark brown hair. Oh, and he was semi-transparent.

I backed away slowly, my hand clapped over my eye.  There is no way in Hell.  “What the fuck, are you a ghost?” 

His expression sobered as he nodded his spectral head.  “Unfortunately.”  

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice a couple of octaves higher than it would typically be.  The urge to scream was overwhelming, and he put his hands out placatingly. 

”Easy, love,” he cooed, keeping his voice as soothing as possible so as not to spook me further.  “We have a blood tie.”

“What?”  The man — ghost? ghost man? — could tell me he was king of Scotland, and I don’t think that would change my hesitation or the level of existential panic I felt at that moment.

“We’re kin,” he said with a little more force, trying to reach me through my brain-melting anxiety.  “Family.  Somewhere along the line, we share blood.  Is it so hard to imagine?  Big world like this?”

“I’m literally talking to a dead man,” I say as my inner thoughts bleed out of my mouth.  Either my imagination is amazing, or I’m having a breakdown.  Maybe there really was something wrong with my brain, and they just couldn’t find it.  Maybe the migraines were making me hallucinate.

“Evangeline!” 

That caught my attention, my blue eyes snapping to his in shocked confusion.  “How do you know my name?”

He had the audacity to sound frustrated.  “Like I said, we share a blood tie.”

"Oh, of course.  That obviously explains everything.  I’m so relieved."

He smirked.  “Yer a wisearse ye are.”

Well, he did get one thing right anyway.  “How come I don’t know your name then?”

”Because I’m dead, and ye’re not.  It’s John, by the way.  John MacTavish.”

Examining him warily, I ask, “So we’re, like, cousins or some shit, John MacTavish?”

He shrugged, pushing his long sleeves up his forearms, which is such a mind-boggling thing to think about a ghost doing — like, what’s the purpose of that? Is he too warm?  “I dunnae know exactly, lass; I just know that I was pulled to ye.  And ye answered.”  It was then that I noticed the ghostly blood on the side of his head, his presumably fatal bullet wound in the exact place where I felt my migraines.

My stomach dropped into what felt like a vat of ice.  “Oh… Oh no. I’m not a medium!  I don’t see dead people!” I desperately pleaded with him, trying to convince him he'd gotten the wrong girl. “I just sling cards; I don’t do any of that other stuff!”

”And yet, here I am.  Here ye are.”  He put his hand on his hip.

“Yes, but… Why?  Why are you here?  What do you want from me?”  Then I saw his tattoo.  With a sudden motion, I moved quickly forward — I think I actually startled him — and I bent my head down to look at his forearm.  Nested inside of laurels was a sword with wings, topped by a knight’s helm and crown.

”Knight of Swords,” I breathed, astonished.  Rushing back, I grab my card from the bed, brandishing it as I return to where he stands.  “This is you?  You did this?”

The ghost of John MacTavish looked down at me with a serious expression.  “I did.  I need yer help, Evangeline.  Yer the only one who can do it.”

Part 2