#ritual weapon destruction

[ancientstuff]

I'm fascinated by the ritual destruction of weapons.

[b-rainlet]

When you wrote about Helaena being created for Aegon, I suddenly remembered this line in the actual book that had Alysanne (grandmother of Viserys and Daemon) say this: “Alyssa is for Baelon” when talking about the possible match between Alyssa and Aemon (not sure how familiar you are with the books but Aemon was the heir and Baelon the second son. Jahaerys and Alysanne wanted to wed the oldest daughter to Aemond while the second daughter Alyssa was promised to the second son but shit happened and the first daughter died, hence this conversation between the king and queen). Which means that Targaryens also believed that certain siblings were created for each other, complemented each other and were destined to wed. So yes, Alicent and Aegon thinking that Helaena is Aegon’s second half, literally created for him and him alone is not such a far fetched idea.

That's just incredible!

Tbh, I never thought my horny postings would be backed up by the actual text, that's really cool :D

(Also, I am pretty unfamiliar with all the books, whether it's the main series or Fire&Blood because I've read the first one - partly - years ago but! If I've read "Alyssa is for Baelon" with my own two eyes in the actual text, I would've probably lost my mind over that. Full on squealing, biting my fingers, vibrating in my chair).

Makes me wonder - there are probably so many Tagaryen ships I would be obsessed with if I would only know about them, I should further educate myself on that.

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

[pookietv]

pub golf | arthurtv

me when i don't upload in ages and come back out of nowhere (sorry pookies ily all)

this is obviously not too accurate to chip's pub golf or anything but yeah whatever!!!

but yeah enjoy this poorly constructed and half proofread fic about close friends arthur and y/n getting all drunk and maybe a little flirty :)

as a youtuber in your friendship circle, it becomes somewhat of an initiation ritual to be involved in a pub golf video, so when chip decided on making another monopoly pub golf video, you weren't all too surprised when he decided you just had to make your pub golf debut.

so that was how you had been roped into standing in a park in london, at 3pm on a tuesday, waiting to be assigned into your pairings for this pub golf.

chip stood with a grin on his face, announcing teams of george and harry, chip and theo, steven and chris, and finally, you and arthur, who gave you a grin as you stood next to him.

"the dream team!" you laughed, and arthur nodded as he looked down at you.

"we better win, so you've gotta bring your a-game," he teased slightly and poked you gently in the ribs, "you're gonna owe me big time,"

you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, "oh yeah? and what will i owe you exactly?"

he grinned, "you've gotta sit and rewatch all the harry potter films with me if we lose," he said, causing you to groan out in mock annoyance.

"fine, fine!" you laughed slightly

arthur was easily the one you were closest to in your friendship group: it always ended up being you two paired up together, or nattering on about something no one else seemed to care too much about, and it had become somewhat of a joke to the group, you had been deemed 'future mrs. television'.

and in all honesty, though you would never admit it, you did have a tiny crush on arthur. or you insisted to yourself it was tiny because the reality was you had a big fat crush on arthur and you were embarrassed. but to you, he was just so easy to be around, he was always sweet and listened and you two were always just close.

and of course, what other embarrassment ritual would kick off pub golf like mortifying monopoly themed costumes. george and chris getting stuck as sailors, chip and theo being dogs, steven and chris being penguins, and you and arthur being stuck dressed as the 'wheelbarrows', in hi viz jackets, builders hats and a small childs wheelbarrow, which seemed more like a weapon of mass destruction.

on the walk to the first pub, the boys were already hyper, which did not bode well as their pre-drink states, with chris and george flirting and arthur almost hitting everyone with the mini wheelbarrow, finally getting there.

and the drink to start was of course a double vodka, which arthur had cockily turned to you, "i bet i can finish my drink quicker than you," he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.

"in your dreams you sad little man," you laughed, picking up your drink with a small little nod, as you both began to drink.

you beat him, only just, watching him wipe his mouth with a dejected little sigh, grinning to yourself at your victory whilst teasing arthur.

along with a shot due to the hole being a bunker hole, to which everyone called chip inane, insisting that three units on the first hole was a recipe for disaster.

and you felt they couldn't be more right, as arthur already gave you his slightly dopey grin, the one where you could tell he had maybe not eaten enough so the drink was hitting him a little too quickly.

"so, who do you think is winning this thing?" he asked you, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, and you rolled your eyes with a playful laugh.

"us, obviously," you said, and he gave you a little look as if to say 'come on, no way'.

"you really think we're beating the team of degenerate alcoholics that are harry and george?" he joked, "i mean you know i can barely handle my alcohol, and i've had to carry you home more times than i can count," he teased.

along the route, the drinks only continued, leading to what could be summed up as mass chaos - with george and chris flirting so much you had to seriously question if they were single by choice or to cover up some secret feelings for one another, and steven and chip making friends with some random guy who had the misfortune of asking for directions from them, and you and arthur, walking miles slower than everyone, yapping on whilst holding the vlog camera at your own faces.

"y/n's gonna crash after her next drink, i can feel it in my bones," he smirked to the camera, causing you to reply with a face of mock anger.

"can't be worse then the crash bicycle kick you attempted in the pitchside charity match," you quipped back, a self determined grin on your face as you leaned on him slightly for support, almost tumbling yourself over.

"whoa, there, you good?" he sniggered a little as you caught his arm, his hand gently on your back to stop you from falling.

"uh huh, 'm brilliant, was just making sure you weren't falling behind," you said sarcastically.

"yeah, right. you're the one who needs a babysitter after a couple of sambucas," he jided, leading you to grin a little more.

"well, lucky me i have the most willing babysitter ever, right?" you teased, poking him slightly in his sides.

after being forced into a duet with harry after he had made to do a forfeit for knocking chip over twice, and steven almost throwing up after being forced to chug a bloody mary after insisting that he hated tomatoes, you had wound up waiting on a bench outside one of the pubs whilst the rest of the boys went to the toilet, finished up their drinks or otherwise messed around.

you on the other hand had been dying for fresh air, so ended up drunkly watching the ground as you waited for them to finish up.

arthur approached you on the bench, giving you a small smile as he drunkenly slumped himself next to you.

"you good?" he said, and you smiled and nodded back to be reassuing.

"uh huh, 'm all good, just needed some air," you babbled out, a little breathy.

"no worries, just wanted to check," he said, before hiccupping slightly, making you grin.

"i'm glad we're on the same team," he continued, and you giggled a little, nodding.

you felt your cheeks heat up a little and silently willed it to not be too obvious, "yeah, me too. always great to have a babysitter," you joked back in response, trying your best to stay casual.

"you have this thing where you make everything better, in all honesty." arthur drunkenly admitted, looking slightly down at his shoes, slightly embarrassed himself to be admitting it. he wondered if he might regret saying any of this in the morning, but when he looked up to see the smile spread on your face and the slight pink tinge to your cheeks, he determined that anything he said that made you look so adorably happy was worth saying, at least in his mind.

"you're going to give me an ego, at this rate." you joked back sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes in response, chuckling to himself.

"anyways, whats in it for me if i keep playing babysitter?" he asked, a small smirk on his face.

"well, you get the pleasure of my company, obviously," you replied in a mocking tone

he laughed slightly to himself, shaking his head. "c'mon, i deserve more then that surely?"

your eyebrow raised slightly, "like what?" you giggled out.

"we go out for drinks? like, not in a group. i'll even babysit then, i swear," he joked.

"are you asking me out, mr television?" you asked, your heart racing slightly as you felt determined to keep your tone light and playful.

"depends, are you saying yes?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.

you looked down at the floor for a moment, in mock contemplation, "well i guess that's conditional of how good of a babysitter you are tonight." you teased, before standing up to go find the other boys.

the rest of the pub golf had ended in a twisted drunken blur: with arthur insisting he was at least a ninety-percent on the drunk scale, to harry almost stacking it on a lime bike, in the last pub everyone had become a drunken state, all calling ubers back to their home once revealing the winners of the pub golf - an unsurprising win for harry and george.

since you and arthur lived in the same apartment building, you had decided to book one uber, sitting on the curb and sipping a bottle of water each that you had bought from a nearby corner shop in a desperate attempt to sober yourselves up and stop yourself from gagging every two minutes, your head leaning on arthur's upper arm in attempt to stop your vision from spinning.

"so, put me out of my misery already. was i a good babysitter?" he asked teasingly, but you could tell by the half softened but still half serious look on his face that he was anxiously waiting.

"the best babysitter," you drunkenly babbled in response, leading to a grin spreading across his face.

"good. feel like i'm always about to lose my nerve or something around you, cause i've had a crush on you for the longest and you're so... i don't know, like effortlessly flirty with me, so i didn't know if it was intentional, or if you didn't even realise, but it was just driving me crazy 'cause i never know how to be around you without being some idiot that has an obvious big fat crush on you so... uhm, yeah. suppose i'm waffling a little now."

you let out a grin of relief as you pulled your head slightly from arthur's shoulder so you could look at him, your eyes half lidded from drunkness and a tired but deliriously happy smile across your face.

"i like you too, arthur. 'm glad i seem cool and effortless, cause i'm really just an idiot with an obvious crush too," you laughed a little to yourself.

he let out a small breath he didn't even realise he was holding, "god, that's a relief. um, so, maybe we could do the drinks we mentioned earlier?" he offered with a small grin.

"uh huh. as long as your babysitting skills are still up for grabs," you giggled in response.

"for you? always."

[pictureviewer-universe]

some great ideas for how to develop a nice relationship with the when you are beginning a superhero career as a vigilante and how much you want to develop it

#010 Law Enforcement

If you’re going to be saving the world from total annihilation every couple of weeks (or every couple of days… or every couple of minutes I don’t know what things are like where you live), it stands to reason that you’re eventually going to cross paths with local law enforcement. As a rule of thumb it’s important to be respectful of policemen or policewomen as they are legally doing what you are illegally doing. Seriously, why don’t you just become a cop. Do you think your parents are proud of you for this? Their adult child running around in spandex fighting sewer mutants?

Unless you manage to get some pro-superhero legislature on the books (which if you have the time, patience and money to lobby for, be my guest) you’re going to be operating as an illegal vigilante. Being able to breath fire or outrun a train doesn’t change that fact. That’s right, technically speaking you’re the criminal. Bet you didn’t see that coming bucko. Therefore, at least when you start out, the cops will probably try to hunt you down. They’ll probably even set up a taskforce specifically to hunt you down, which, while flattering, is also super annoying. They’ll even try to arrest you after you’ve just stopped a crime! Like oh my god man I just did your job for you and you still get paid you should be thanking me not reading me my Miranda Rights. So, to avoid being arrested when the police come to arrest your criminal adversary I suggest running away really fast from the crime scene once you’ve foiled the convenience store robbery, or the occult ritual to resurrect the dead, or whatevers.

If the police department as a whole hasn’t warmed up to you then you need to find someone on the force who has. A diligent straight-shooting cop who believes in your crusade against crime. But, not like, so straight-shooting that they’ll immediately arrest you or report your attempts to recruit them to their superior because again, legally speaking, you’re a serial criminal. A contact within the police force is invaluable as they can provide you with leads and intelligence and they can run interference with official investigations into you and your secret identity. They can also give you a heads up when they get word that a crime is going down. Just try to make sure you don’t get yourself a cop informant who’s super preachy and keeps trying to convince you to “go legit” or “join the force” or “stop parading around town in a stupid costume because you’d look sooo much better in police blues.” Oh my god who asked you, what are you the fashion police? This costume makes my eyes pop and if I have to be an illegal vigilante to wear it then SO BE IT (chill.) Right, anyway… It probably wouldn’t hurt to get your hands on a police scanner too, this way you know where everybody is, where you’re needed most and how to best avoid those two cops who you don’t like because they keep making fun of your ability to turn into a giant hamster. Like they don’t even have any superpowers so why are they so obnoxious. On that note, if you happen to have super hearing or the power to hijack radio signals with your brain, you can just act as your own police scanner so you’ve just saved yourself some money, congratulations. 

Look, I get it. Being hunted by both the law and the plethora of super criminals who will no doubt flood into your city thanks to the legal crackdown on superheroes is a massive bummer. But just think of what a wonderful and grand thing it will surely be when the police finally calm down, realize that having a super powered person stopping crimes is a good thing, and decide to accept you with open arms. Once you make a name for yourself, probably by fighting off an alien invasion or preventing the world from imploding, you might finally be accepted by the establishment and hailed and respected as the hero you truly see yourself as. When that happens they’ll probably throw you a parade or erect a statue in your honor. So that’ll be neat, that’s definitely something to look forward to. Plus, being official public partners with the cops has tons of sweet perks. Imagine how glorious you’ll look riding on top of a police car, sirens blaring, surrounded by other siren-blaring cars as you all race to foil the biggest bank heist of the century. Who among us hasn’t wanted to police car surf their way to a crime scene. None among us. That’s who. Anybody who says they haven’t thought about it is either a liar or has no imagination. Also maybe they’ll help you get out of parking tickets. If you’re one of those superheroes who still has to drive a car.

You’re going to want to avoid getting too publicly (k, real talk for a second does anybody else keep trying to spell publicly, “publically” only for that garbage to be redlined because you’re an idiot and that’s not how anything is spelled or is it just me?) chummy with any specific police officers though. Because then you run the risk of that cop being individually targeted by your enemies and really the only reason you’re wearing the diggity dang mask and using a goofy name (I’m looking at you Professor!) is to prevent that kind of thing from happening! That’s the whole thing! Don’t make good friends in your superhero identity! In general though, even once accepted you should keep official law enforcement agencies at arm’s length. Occasionally in your battle against the criminal scum of the Earth you’re forced to do things that aren’t entirely legal. Did you know you can’t just break into evil lairs and beat up criminals without a warrant? And that you have to hand all evidence over to the court and you can’t just take evil weapons of mass destruction and keep them in a well-lit trophy case in your hideout? Well you can’t, superheroes break laws like that all the time. So if you’re seen as or you actually become an official law enforcement agent, things like that can get real tricky real fast.

[foone]

Annoying edge case for lycanthropy: a dragon who is also a werewolf.

(A short story I wrote back in 2022 for twitter. I've slightly re-edited it, but it's still "twittery" in how it uses linebreaks (because there used to be post-boundaries there). Sorry! )

So on the full moon, they uncontrollably turn into… A much smaller and squishier humanoid. They can't wait to get their scales and fire breath and wingspan back. They're so vulnerable in their werewolf form!

No one at the werewolf support meetings is sympathetic.

They're all humans or nearly, so one of them is like "it's just so scary. I'm huge, and inhuman, and I feel like I'm made of weapons, with my claws. Everyone fears me, and I fear myself sometimes, never knowing what I might do, if I lose control and just let the rage out…" And the werewolf-dragon is like "and then you turn into a werewolf! It's so annoying, I agree"

Everyone else just turns to look at them, slowly

They do take some tips about werewolf safety. They just do it backwards, because instead of making sure they can't get out and cause death and destruction, it's more about making sure no one can get in and attack them in their merely nigh-invulnerable werewolf form. When you're a dragon, turning into a nearly unkillable rage monster of claws and fangs is a major downgrade. It's a real moment of weakness, and who knows if your ancient enemies or some upstart knight is going to try to take advantage of that moment of weakness?

They get infinitely more annoyed when they finally find a witch who can do the right ceremony and lift the curse of lycanthropy. "there… With the burning of this silver candle, you are finally free. You're human in all moonphases, now." "WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, HUMAN?!"

They got turned into the humanized version of their werewolf form. Permanently.

Always read the fine print before asking a witch to do a complicated magical ritual on you.

"also, question: how the hell did you burn a silver candle? Isn't the melting point of silver…" "one thousand eight hundred degrees, yes. It wasn't easy. Look. "

She pulls back a curtain and points. There's a complicated bellows system being vigorously pumped by a bunch of little black cats, each wearing a tiny witch's hat. They're sweating with exertion and the heat.

"we're done, my lovelies. You can stop now" The kitties hop down off the bellows and lie down at her feet, or wander off looking for food. The witch looks down at the former dragon, now barely 5 feet tall. "why do you think I asked for my fee in cat food?"

"but it was ALL cat food. Don't you need to-" The former dragon pauses mid-sentence, as the witch pulls off her traditional witchy headwear to reveal two pointy feline ears. "you were saying?"

"nevermind. Thanks, I guess." The dragon walks to the door, then turns around. "hey, I need to find out how to be a human, would you happen to know anything or anyone I can ask?" The witch looks up from sitting on the floor with a leg behind her head, licking the inside of her thigh "wouldn't have a clue, sorry love", she says with a smile.

The witch has to show up later and bail the former dragon out of jail. Apparently they accosted a city guard after being told "you can't just wander around the city naked". The dragon told them to contact the catwitch because it's not like they know any other humanoids.

The guard wasn't physically hurt, but getting jumped by a small naked human after merely pointing out you need to wear trousers or a dress or something in public is the kind of thing that leaves mental scars that'll take a while to fade.

Even if your tiny nude opponent was mainly trying to scratch or bite you with claws or fangs they no longer have

The former dragon ends up living with the catwitch. She could use some help with the bellows, and even if the dragon can no longer provide her own fire, they still know a lot about it.

And even if they're now a short little weakling who has to be reminded to wear clothes, they are a bit better at pumping the bellows than a pack of kittens.

Plus they can help with making potions and such in ways the cats can't, what with having thumbs.

They live together for a while, until the grumpy now-human finds out that another dragon has taken up residence in their former hoard.

And that will just not do!

So the dragon convinces the catwitch to come with them on an adventure to raid their own hoard and defeat (or at least evict) the dragon.

So they set out, the former dragon having to figure out the weaknesses in their own defenses and how to navigate a space built for dragons, not tiny humanoids. They're wearing the minimum in clothing they can get away with, and wielding a sword almost bigger than they are.

And following, the catwitch with a broom and a big sack of magical devices and reagents, and a little procession of kittens in their hats.

(the former dragon uses they/them pronouns. Their human body does have a sex, but when gender was explained to them they called it a "foolish human thing" and never bothered with it, just like their opinions on silverware and public indecency laws)

As far as anyone can tell, dragons have only one gender, and it's dragon.

Anyone who has asked further questions about dragon gender, sex, or reproduction has ended up crispy and good with ketchup.

They manage to evict the squatting dragon, and the witch is like "well, I guess you got nearly everything you want now. I'll take my cats back to the city…" And the ex-dragon is like "WAIT… I was thinking, maybe you could… Use my hoard as a new shop? There's plenty of room"

"are you asking me to stay?" "n-no… I mean, yes? Shut up. It's just because it would be a good place for you. After all, your shop has that leaky roof, and you were running out of storage space, and the mayor always wanted you kicked out…"

"oh I see, so it's just for me? How kind. You don't care either way, right?" "right! I don't care! I don't need or want you around! I don't care about silly human things" "human?" she asks with a smile, wiggling her ears on the top of her head. "shut up you know what I mean"

"so you don't want me to stay around you? You don't have a reason why you want to be near me, to be with me?" she says "with" with a certain slant on it, as she rests her arm on the shoulder of the former dragon, having to lean over her to reach. "n-n-n…"

The witch switches to cupping the former dragon's face in her palms. "and your face is so warm, little one. Are you trying to breathe fire? You're turning red, so maybe you are…"

"stop it! I… I just…" "yes?" the witch lets go, but her tail curls around the waist of the former dragon, like they are walking hand in hand down a beach.

"I like you, alright? I want you to stay. I want to be with you! Is that so wrong?"

"nope!" says the witch, happily pulling them into a kiss.

We zoom out, past a pile of gold coins and goblets and scepters, as little black kittens in adorable hats play in the hoard, ambushing each other in play-fights from the high ground of a treasure chest.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monster Hunt: Roilwreak, Temperamental Elemental

WHATS SHAKING YOU WIZARD BITCHES, GUESS WHO BROKE CONTAINMENT AGAIN?? THAT'S RIGHT, ITS MEEE!!!

Beginning life as an apprentice's over ambitious and much procrastinated thesis project, this arcane entity has entered into a troubled adolescence marked by making itself a calamitous nuisance. Being a Weird ( an elemental composed of two contradictory natures) Roilwreak is possessed by a destructive restlessness that only seems to find an outlet in causing problems for others, whether it be in property damage, petty arson, or the disarray of arcane workings for the sheer shit-disturbing fun of it.

Adventure Hooks

Roilwreak spends most of its time in a warded enclosure on the grounds of the academy in which it was summoned, tended to by apprentices and occasional studied for its unique ability to interfere with different kinds of magical energy. There's a rumour that upperclassmen (and even faculty) sometimes sneak in after hours to bargain with the elemental in order to fuel their more elaborate rituals.. which might be how the Weird managed to escape this time. Pheraps the homebrew potion dregs and scraps of firecrackers from the nearby market can point at a suspect.

The elemental has given the academy the slip and disapeared into the city's pipeworks, resulting in minor flooding as pipes crack under unexpected pressure and a number of injuries as a pubic fountain boiled off into scalding mist. The local garison have put a bounty out for whoever can slay the elemental, but the academy just want it returned safely. It IS a sapient creature after all, and it can't help that chaos is in it's nature.

A villainous mage has heard of the Weird's powers and wants to make use of them, binding Roilwreak into a weapon or draining off its energy for some awful ritual. Having organized an infiltration (or perhaps the current breakout) it's a race to see who can catch the hyper-charged herptile first.

[hiddenincommand]

The Ruthless Supremacy of Riding Boots: A Symbol of the Alpha Master

Riding boots are no mere accessory. They are the embodiment of absolute power, the unyielding insignia of an Alpha Master who strides through life with unmatched authority and unshakable control. These boots are not crafted for common feet, nor for unworthy souls. They are a weapon, a statement, a throne upon which the true master of all stands—towering above the pitiful, trembling masses who dare to call themselves men.

The Sole Dominion of the Alpha Master

To wear riding boots is to declare oneself a god among insects. Their gleaming leather, their unbending form, and their commanding presence are the exclusive privilege of those who rule with an iron fist. An omega, or any lesser being, would defile such perfection simply by proximity. Riding boots are reserved for the elite—those who dominate, conquer, and break others for their own amusement. They are not merely shoes; they are the instruments of supremacy.

These boots announce the arrival of power, leaving no room for doubt, no space for weakness. When the polished toe enters a room, all heads lower instinctively. When the heavy sole strikes the ground, its sound alone is a command, a warning to every trembling omega to bow lower, submit harder, and beg with greater desperation.

The Formalities of Power

Even among symbols of mastery, there is hierarchy. The choice of riding boots depends on the occasion. For moments of refined cruelty—dinners where subordinates are reminded of their place or formal gatherings where the Alpha Master reigns supreme—towering black boots, shined to a mirror finish, are mandatory. Their immaculate surface reflects not only light but the pathetic, groveling faces of those beneath them.

For the exquisite act of discipline, a more rugged boot may be donned. Scuffed leather and reinforced soles hint at their history—a legacy of crushing rebellion, both figuratively and literally. The heavy tread of these boots leaves its mark, not only on the ground but on the spirits of those foolish enough to require correction.

Then, there are the spurs. Oh, the spurs—sharp, gleaming instruments of subtle and overt torture. For formal occasions, understated silver spurs whisper of control, their gentle jingle a quiet reminder of latent cruelty. But for moments of brutal correction, heavier spurs are chosen. Their weight and sound add gravitas to every step, and their bite against soft flesh ensures obedience laced with pain and humiliation.

Boots as Instruments of Subjugation

The true beauty of riding boots lies in their duality: they are both a symbol of power and a tool of domination. For an omega brought to his knees, they are a stark, unrelenting mirror. Every gleam in the leather mocks his inferiority, every inch of the towering boot a reminder of the insurmountable chasm between master and subject.

When an Alpha Master raises his boot to rest on a sub’s back, it is more than a gesture. It is an act of ownership, a declaration that this creature exists solely for the master’s amusement. And when the boot presses down—on the neck, the spine, or the face—it communicates a single truth: resistance is futile, rebellion is laughable, and submission is absolute.

Spurs, too, serve their purpose in this ritual of subjugation. A tap against the cheek is enough to send a chill of dread through the most defiant omega. A scrape against the skin leaves more than a mark—it imprints the master’s will onto the body and mind of the sub. Each jingle of the spurs, each flash of metal, is a cruel reminder that the Alpha Master’s control is omnipresent and inescapable.

The Legacy of Dominance

Riding boots are not a mere fashion statement; they are a weaponized art form. They are forged for destruction, crafted for conquest, and worn by those who rule without mercy. They carry the weight of history—of generals who crushed empires, of kings who ruled with unrelenting authority, and of Alpha Masters who turned the groveling cries of their inferiors into a symphony of submission.

To wear riding boots is to stride above the petty concerns of mortals. It is to walk with the confidence of a man who knows he is untouchable, invincible, and utterly dominant. No other garment carries such weight, such command, such ruthless authority.

In every step, in every glint of polished leather, the Alpha Master’s message is clear: You are nothing. I am everything. Crawl at my feet, worship my boots, and know that your existence serves only my pleasure.

For the Alpha Master, riding boots are not simply worn—they are wielded. For the omega, they are not simply seen—they are feared. And for all who dare to look upon them, they are an undeniable truth: supremacy is not claimed; it is taken, enforced, and embodied. And it wears riding boots.

[baphometsss]

Starting to think that 'memories of a duet' might also be about a high approval Inquisitor.

Ofc it will never be confirmed/denied, especially since it makes little sense to be there for a low approval inquisitor and it can also be read as being about Mythal and the early days of Solas living in a body, where she forged him into a weapon. But it's interesting to have it in a room which is otherwise a shrine to the Inquisition. There is beautiful sunlight pouring in through the windows, and it isn't the dull bluish light in the rest of the Lighthouse. He has repainted the frescos from Skyhold, to remember his time as Wisdom ('seeing wholly, and being wholly seen'), with those friends he loved and betrayed. There is a chair with an Inquisition mural on it facing the harpsichord, as if waiting for the Inquisitor to sit and watch him play. A ton of cheese, because they were in Ferelden. There is an Orlesian clock, a Astrarium, and basically 0 references to Mythal. It's odd, then, that the Duet codex would be about Mythal, in a room that is otherwise devoid of her presence. It is a sanctuary, the only part of the Lighthouse that truly lives up to its name for Solas.

You have to make the statues of Fen'harel and Mythal face each other to access it. As if it's only by facing his regrets and humbling himself that he will allow himself to indulge in his 'selfish' desires to be loved and seen for who he truly is, something that Mythal and even Felassan did not give him. The rest of the Lighthouse is filled with destroyed frescos of memories he wants to forget (mainly featuring Mythal), and there is a fragment of Mythal in the Crossroads that he never goes to see. He doesn't allow himself to be selfish or he'll be tempted off his path like he was when he was with the Inquisition, and the presence of Mythal in the Lighthouse is his way of reminding himself to stay true to his purpose. Yet still, he destroys references to her; he destroys the murals because they are too painful to witness, his Pride cannot handle it.

The truth is that since gaining a body, nothing about Solas's life has been about want. He never wanted to come through, but he was asked to by a friend who wanted his help and wisdom to fight a war they would likely die fighting in. He cannot resist appeals to his true nature. He didn't want to stay and seems to have returned to the Fade at some point (the second memory where Mythal shrugs him off to return to the Evanuris appears to take place in the Fade).

He hasn't had anything he wanted since he was a spirit in the Fade. A romanced Lavellan/high approval Inquisitor, and the bonds he formed in the Inquisition, made him reflect his true purpose, and it's through his time in the Inquisition that he begins to change. By his own admission, he came very close to breaking during the Crestwood moment with a romanced Inquisitor. However, the destruction of his orb by Corypheus, and the ritual to tear down the Veil already being underway, meant that he couldn't abandon his plans. He failed in his attempt to unlock the power of his Orb.

And that's kind of the crux of his change: Pride cannot handle failure, as failure requires humility, which is its opposite. Solas in DATV is Pride is trying to prove its purpose; Mythal is used a figurehead for all his regrets, but don't forget that he destroyed a fragment of Mythal in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil, to steal her power from her. It's no longer just about the debt he feels he owes to her for leaving her to fight the Evanuris alone (i.e. leaving her to die), it's the fact that his words of wisdom were not heeded, and as a manifestation of Pride, he cannot tolerate that. It's the fact that he left to start a rebellion, and it got Mythal killed because he wasn't there when she needed his help. His Pride has convinced him that it would've made a difference, when by all accounts he was outnumbered and not powerful enough to fight them all anyway. All of these mistakes and regrets are deeply humbling. So of course he's desperate. Pride will stop at nothing to prove its purpose, like Elgar'nan's Tyranny will not stop until he achieves godhood.

To a point though, it's kind of Mythal's fault that Solas/Fen'harel happened in the first place. She shouldn't have twisted him from his purpose and used him as a weapon, she shouldn't have kept him loyal to her so she could keep the fight against the Evanuris by manipulating and branding him as her lap-dog. She shouldn't have made him forge the Wolf's Fang to kill the Titans and start the Blight. But also--she was Benevolence, who became Retribution, and that meant that she also needed to prove her purpose. Solas/Fen'harel is the collateral damage of that.

It is only by appealing to his true purpose (Wisdom), that Solas has a chance to be redeemed. The Inquisitor is the one who brings the statuette to Rook's attention. The Inquisitor is one half of the key that brings humility to Pride, to make him see that there is Wisdom in humility too, that he still has that good in him, that he is loved and cared for despite everything. It is Mythal who is the other half of that key, as she is the one makes him understand that the shame isn't just his own, but a shared burden that he must accept a proportionate amount of blame for. Mythal is the release, and the Inquisitor is the guide for his new direction. They are foils. He says that the high approval Inquisitor is why he can see a better way forward, and a romanced Lavellan is there to remind him that he is loved, that he has a purpose beyond all he has known for thousands of years, that he is not alone in his struggle.

[balkanradfem]

The christian side of tumblr found a post where I made a little joke about how religion puts women into servitude and it's going around gathering bible quotes and arguing whether this is about christianity or other religions x_x I never thought this day would come.. I didn't think christians were on here. And even though the majority of people arguing are christians, I never wrote down 'christianity', I meant all abrahamic religions.

I'm itching to go argue but I know deep in my heart there is nothing to be gained. These people are eager to mock and personally attack whoever is disagreeing with them and that is not a honest intellectual discussion that I crave. I think if you're religious you just have to avoid thinking things like 'why is that so' and 'isn't that awfully convenient' and 'what if this promised thing fails to materialize' because once you start having those thoughts, the entire thing falls apart.

I remember being 15 and realizing that the christian god has no actual use of us, no point in caring about us whatsoever, and no incentive to pay attention to what we do or don't do, but humans very much have a need to believe in the higher power that works to their personal advantage, and that there's someone 'up there' who will make things alright for them, that they have a higher purpose and that if they follow certain rules it will pay out. And this was enough for me to figure out that god didn't create humans, but humans created god, because humans have a need of a god, while god has no need or use for humans at all.

It was only later when I learned about feminism that I realized it wasn't only that, but that it was specifically made to control, exploit and oppress women, praising them for endless servitude, sacrifice, submission and platitude, all while consistently telling them they're filled with sin and never good enough. It's now ghoulish and bizarre to me that the symbol of their faith is a m*n being brutally tortured, that what we feel is holy is endless suffering and pain and death. We're told to aspire for that. That has nothing to do with spirituality, nothing to do with human nature or healthy and happy human lives. It's a worship of death.

There are promises that religious people make towards women, to make them believe it's a path towards true love, or endless rewards for being 'faithful' and 'pure' or a life where they feel safe from disasters, safe from being abandoned and betrayed. There's nothing in life that can guarantee that. Religion can however, offer certain people a community, it can provide services where you come and listen to stories, and stories come with morals (convenient and confusing morals, but people love engaging with moral-type stories and feeling they've learned something), it provides rituals and celebrations that cultures have integrated in their life (after it destroyed the original rituals and celebrations, but we don't talk about that), and it can provide a common ground of understanding for people (sadly the common ground is that women exist to serve and that this is natural). Sometimes it also provides a feeling of superiority for some people, enabling them to mock, humiliate and patronize others for their 'lack of religion'.

So I understand there are community related reasons a person might feel safer within a religion and having this common ground and community, common beliefs, familiarity and stories, rituals and celebrations, it doesn't come off as a horrible thing, especially when the majority of the culture does it. But other things it brings are painful for women, and often hidden. Encouraging hidden suffering, sacrifice, servitude, centering torture and death, and admiration of torture and death, instead of celebrating nature, life, the world we live in and how we interact with it. Centering males as creators when everyone alive was created by women. Dismissing wars, rape, terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, genocides and male brutality, while endlessly shaming women for having feelings and not doing a good enough job pleasing the violent males. And generally making a hell for women when they have any thoughts about sexuality or lust.

I know me writing about it here will not have any effect on people personally attacking me for being ignorant and uneducated, but it feels good to write down the thoughts I've been having all day! Being forbidden from thinking in certain direction, forbidden from questioning my own beliefs, is something that plagued me for a big part of my life, and I will not have it anymore. I can say 'this is awfully convenient' when religions declare that m*n are leaders and women are supposed to follow and serve. I can say that putting up statues of a m*n dying in torture is fucked up and morbid. I can say that making me believe that I would go to hell, for not following every order I've been given, is a horrid thing to do to a female child. And I'm happy and grateful that I can think and say whatever I want, without any threat of damnation ever looming over me.

[felassan]

The Infocomm Media Development Authority is a statutory board under the Singapore Ministry of Digital Development and Information. It has a website which has things like ratings classifications for video games for its region (Singapore).

This is what it lists and describes for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, bolded emphasis mine -

"Extended Classification Information ‘Dragon Age The Veilguard’ is an action-roleplaying game set in the fantasy lands of Thedas. The protagonist takes on the role of Rook to explore a world where corrupt ancient gods have broken free and are trying to wage destruction. Rook must gather a powerful team of companions to save the world. The game is rated M18 for nudity and sexual references. From a third-person perspective, the player controls Rook to traverse through varied locations, interact with other characters, undertake quests and battle fantastical enemies (creatures, demons, and humanoids comprising humans, elves and other fantasy races. The player can choose to customise the protagonist’s race, gender, faction and combat class, which determines the weapons, abilities and powers that can be used in combat against enemies. Over the course of the game, the player can recruit companions of various race and gender to the cause. Completing quests and defeating enemies earns the player characters gold and experience to level up, unlock new skills, and purchase items. Some scenes may depict female characters topless, such as during the character customisation screen or in certain romance scenes. As the narrative progresses, the player can develop relationships with party members, and optionally pursue a romance with some, including with same-sex human and fantasy characters. These may culminate in scenes of intimacy depicting the characters kissing and embracing, with some accompanying suggestive dialogue before the screen fades to black alluding to sexual activity. The M18 Classification Guidelines permit “depictions of same-sex kissing and hugging”, and “some homosexual content, if discreet in treatment and not gratuitous”. There are scenes of realistic violence depicted during battle sequences and in some cutscenes. Characters are slashed and stabbed by melee weapons or shot by arrows and magic projectiles, with blood splattering and staining surfaces. During exploration, the player may come across bloodstained environments, and carcasses and corpses sprawled about, hung aloft or impaled by objects. A scene depicts an animal being sacrificed during a ritual and exploding in a large burst of blood. The dialogue contains some use of the expletive “f**k” and its variances, as well as the use of crude words such as “asshole”, “bastard”, “damn” and “shit”."

[source, via]

The animal sacrifice part is interesting. I wonder what kind of ritual, to whom or for what purpose? Tevinter, blood magic, Venatori..?

[majorasnightmare]

okay so like. mizora

im pretty sure we're in agreement that the conditions for wylls pact were sus as fuck right? like there just happened to be a fully formed cult to tiamat rarin to go right outside baldurs gate mid ritual, and the home of high harper and nosy grandma JAHEIRA didnt notice shit?? nobody saw anything and no one could confirm wylls story despite baldurs gate having an active enough night life to sustain 7 actively hunting vampire spawn for at LEAST 200 years AND a sewer murder cult committing covert assassinations and murder sprees??? with a cult of bane conducting weapons trade deals and the knights of the shield operating a smuggling ring??? the flaming fist didnt even see anything to pointedly ignore??? not a single chickenshit recruit filed a report about observing a dragons head in the night sky with a filed dismissal by a senior officer claiming they probably drank too much. Saitama_Okay.jpg

im personally of the opinion that zariel didnt stage that particular incident but DID utilize agents to provoke tiamats cult into action while also stifling potential witnesses. we know raphael does similar because of his stupid chess themed letters to his own agents, so its not unreasonable to suspect zariel is doing the same. but i think the REAL prize of that particular operation was not the destruction of an active tiamat cult, but instead something more subtle and with a potentially higher payoff: the ear of duke ravengards son. a dragon cult getting annhilated was a bonus, and a convenient call to action besides

mizora, by karlachs admission, was part of zariels personal inner circle (by choice, as devils are ambitious creatures with a drive to climb the ladder). this means that, through mizora, zariel herself took direct personal interest in wyll ravenguard. wyll himself was only 17 years old by this point: he had yet to achieve anything of note and was drifting through noble highborn society as the odd man out, son to a lowborn duke who rised through meritocracy and raised to appreciate the down-to-earth rural pasttimes his father grew up with, like fishing. wyll himself had nothing to offer to a devil besides his heritage; baldurs gate is full enough of self sacrificing do-gooders to keep the harpers regularly staffed, and The Urge regularly sated. for mizora to target wyll specifically makes the most sense if the real target was his connection to the current grand duke of baldur's gate, a city home to a practicing diabolist, several evil cults, and itself has been a hotbed of planar activity thanks to the dead threes meddling for YEARS. that ulder also commands the flaming fist, the gates de facto policing force, is also a point to consider.

this is also reflected in wylls pact, and the terms we experience of it. wyll specifically states that the terms of his pact primarily target the evil, the monstrous, and the heartless. remember, this is BEFORE he was the blade of frontiers. he became a warlock 7 years before the game, but only became the Blade five years prior to the plot. thats a two year gap of being a warlock but not the blade, where his pact STILL primarily targeted monsters. this is. a REALLY weird pact for a devil to offer! like firstly, its overwhelmingly in wylls favor. there is very little wyll does FOR mizora, and the targets she assigns to wyll near exclusively align with his moral code. he sees no reason to doubt mizoras portrayal of karlach, and has to be prompted into sparing her even as he hesitates, because past experience has told him that mizoras targets DO deserve to be slain as judged by HIS beliefs, as indicated by his line of participating in a mummers farce, and him playing his part all too poorly. wylls upset at himself for not thinking to question mizoras target and considering his hunt of karlach to be just. clearly thats because, in every other instance, wyll believed that to be the case!

thats REALLY FUCKIN WEIRD for a devil! like yes mizora gets to take down political rivals using wyll, because wyll knows devils are evil, but. thats a really weird pact to sign in return for destroying a cult mid god summon? like you could extort a LOT more for that and be assured youd get it, cuz its ALL OF BALDURS GATE and the RETURN OF TIAMAT on the line. and it doesnt seem to be a case of poor dealmaking, unlike raphael, whos every deal overwhelmingly reeks of desperation. he'll translate astarions back if you kill yurgir, because he really really really needs you to kill yurgir before he figures out raphael played him and he gets out because of it, and the clock is rapidly ticking down on that because balthazar is already in the temple, interacting with the dark justiciar skeletons, and actively looking for yurgir because the orthons annoying him. we are literally a single step removed from balthazar casually dropping the fact theres a dark justiciar hivemind in the bodies of 100 rats and raphael getting his ass beat for setting yurgir up. raphael really really wants you to hate the emperor and free orpheus because the only bargaining chip he has is the hammer, and in the midst of THAT deal literally spells out its location for you and why youd want it, for free. raphael the crown of karsus is almost in reach but to defeat the absolute ill need the plastic card you dad keeps in his wallet, make sure you send me the 16 numbers on the front, the 3 on the back, and the expiration date! hurry raphael we dont have much time!

comparitively mizora only ever bargains from a perceived position of strength. she can afford to make demands of wyll because he has no way to stop tiamats summoning without her. then, later, she has the easiest and most accessible source of information for wylls father knowing his life is in danger as a political prisoner. these are very strong bargaining positions! shes only ever undercut by the players presence bargaining on wylls behalf. its a quick and easy way to show that her inflated opinion of herself isnt entirely without merit, although her second pact is framed as choosing between two potential agreements, save wyll and kill ulder, or save ulder and damn wyll, when in reality shes proposing a new pact that has no authority over wyll OR ulder until signed (which is why you can save ulder because she doesnt actually have the pact given authority to insta kill him the way she implies, she can only throw thwartable assassins at him like anyone else with a grudge). shes a manipulator with plenty of skin in the game and a good amount of success behind her that justifies her position within zariels court. the point of this is make a point of highlighting how *little* mizora actually fucks with wyll *as enabled by the terms of the pact*. mizora is cruel, she is manipulative, she is condescending and rude, and she makes wylls life awful with her presence, but takes very few ACTIONS towards those ends, and relies primarily on verbally demeaning him. when he violates a clause in their pact, mizora utilizes a loophole to make karlach qualify by its terms and then punishes wyll by infusing his soul with infernal essence. thats... really it. you can watch wyll backtalk her, but she doesnt even do that leash yank she does in act 1. if you blenderize her, wyll dies by the pacts terms, but like. mizora literally also dies, and is REALLY upset by it to boot. you break wylls pact, tell mizora to fuck off with her second one, and she just kinda stomps her foot and fucks off for a bit before loitering in your camp still. as a warlock you can even mention to wyll that she very easily could have snatched his soul about the karlach thing but she doesnt.

in terms of "classic warlock struggles" we barely see mizora do anything beyond being an Unpleasant Person wyll is forced to interact with. theres none of the classic "being compelled to do something evil for self serving ends at risk of suffering The Horrors", mizora barely even tries to corrupt him. wyll is never forced by mizora into circumstances where he has to evaluate his code of ethics against an action he needs to take and decide what parts of his moral code he needs to capitulate on and what to keep, wyll keeps almost every single line in the sand he ever draws! his biggest character conflicts are actually between his OWN ideals, whether to live within the heroic persona of the Blade of Frontiers, or to accept his own capability of failings and live as Wyll Ravengard. like. being a warlock barely factors at all into those decisions and the closest it comes to mattering is choosing whether or not wyll breaks his pact or saves his father, which you can expose as a false choice by just rescuing his dad anyways. mizora exerts that little influence over wylls interior world. for a literal devil on his shoulder, bargaining from the greatest position of strength a negotiator could ask for, that is so fucking WEIRD.

okay thats a whole lotta post pointing out that mizoras motivations for even makin the damn pact in the first place needs examining, so now several paragraphs in let me actually get to what i MEANT to talk about. so firstly weve established that 17 yr old wyll doesnt have anything unique to entice a devil beyond his connection to the grand duke. weve established that the pact is weirdly in wylls favor, and that its pointedly not a Skill Issue but seems to be intentional, and furthermore that the POINT of the pact doesnt seem to be corrupting a good soul into the embrace of the Hells to make a new devil, because the pact seems to be made to allow wyll to just Be Himself comfortably without much internal conflict or moral sacrifice. we know that wyll made the pact before he became the blade of frontiers, and thus the pact was not made with the Blade of Frontiers persona in mind, which removes another layer of potential justification for the extremely loose terms of the pact. we know zariel is interested in wyll through the usage of mizora as his patron, and we know that stopping the summoning of tiamat without any external aid from the myriad conflicting interests within baldurs gate almost definitely necessitated a good amount of smokescreen work behind the scenes, but also that it most likely wasnt staged in its entirely because it benefits zariel to thwart tiamats ambitions. so. why is wyll ravengard a warlock pacted to mizora? i suggest the following hypothetical: that mizoras goal, and by extension zariels, was to have a morally agreeable framework within which to make a pact with duke ravengards son, such that hed be guaranteed to agree to it, and then to hide the evidence of the pacts circumstances to allow themselves greater reign to act within baldurs gate. that the goal was to have a devil on the shoulder of the dukes son, to push their relationship into strain so as to make ulder ravengards behavior more predictable and thus vulnerable to manipulation, and that through mizora (through wyll), zariel would have a first hand source to the inner political workings of baldurs gate, and the movements of the flaming fist and the goals they were pursuing. through the fist, zariel could keep track of the cult elements they were investigating (and thus what rivals need deposing), and through wyll and his father, zariel could monitor the movements of the gates upper class and utilize mizoras skillset to ingratiate wyll further into high society and put him in close proximity to those capable of mustering meaningful resistance to an influx of infernal influence. wylls relationship to his father prior to his pact was good, we know ulder was a firm but loving father and that wyll was generally well liked in baldurs gate in general, and that wyll openly admired his father and sought to follow in his footsteps. it is in fact extremely reasonable to suspect that such a good relationship was more than a single incident away from breaking. its in fact more reasonable to presume that a major political figure would be aware of the adage of keeping ones friends close, and enemies closer, such that you could monitor their movements. its reasonable to believe that one would assume good intentions on the part of ones son, who himself has made it known that he desires to be like you. to assume, in good faith, that even with all signs of dragoncult activity removed, that ones son clearly lost his eye and gained new scars *somehow*, through *some* kind of incident related to his new fiend pact. all of these are logical and reasonable things to assume and plan for, when you have made a point of manipulating people, of reading their intentions and catering to them like a monkeys paw.

that ulder ravengard would not just chastise wyll, but banish him from baldur's gate entirely, must have been a horrible shock, not just for wyll, but for mizora. i doubt the uneventful two year gap between taking the pact and becoming the blade was purposeful. it makes more sense to interpet that as mizora simply having no fucking idea what to do with her warlock now, as the pact she dictated (designed so that wyll never felt it was unjust enough to make a point of breaking it, no matter how often he thought of doing so, because it was so in favor of him and aligned with his moral code), simply had no vehicles for any of the usual courses of action. cant force wyll into tricky moral quandries, because she can only ask him to kill evil, infernal, monstrous, or heartless beasts. cant ostracize him through the pact to isolate and grind him down, wyll cant talk about it. what do you even do? now your both stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the pact to show for it

and heres where i veer into hot take interpretation country. i think mizora genuinely likes wyll. when you blenderize her in moonrise towers (before reloading a previous save ofc), her screams are oddly... genuine? confused, frightened, upset. its odd than an otherwise vindictive and catty individual isnt angry upon being killed, but confused and hurt sounding. i think in a lot of ways mizora both relies on the consistency of wylls moral code, while also considering it a hinderance, not to her plans (thoroughly derailed thanks to one ulder ravengard) but to wylls own personal development as a person. shes a devil, she doesnt have the kind of personality where she can be genuine and vulnerable and kind. but she was stuck as the only authority figure wyll had to rely on, for seven whole years, after being kicked out of the only life he ever knew and the only home he ever had. i think in a weird fucked up way, she really does want whats best for him, its just that her opinion of that is filtered through the lens of Literally Being A Devil. none of this is to say she was *good* to wyll. how wyll feels about mizora is pretty blatantly stated, and would be a much shorter post, and im not here to interrogate that or question it, because being stuck with a devil who can use your eye to spy on you is just an awful experience even without regular verbal degradation on top of it. im mostly just intrigued by the other end of that relationship. mizora clearly cares enough about keeping wyll as a warlock to go as far as trying to make a second pact with him if you succeed in negotiating the first one to be broken. which, as weve established above, is really weird because Wyll himself brings next to nothing a devil would value to the table. Mizora isnt trying to corrupt him into breaking his ethics, really the only thing she pushes is sacrificing his father instead, a decision a recruited minthara finds value in as "patricide is often the first step to greatness". i think mizora might have ulterior motives for wanting ulder ravengard dead, and i think its because she believes that wylls love for his father is holding him back. any time wyll is selfish in pushing back on her, mizora indicates some measure of being impressed on wylls behalf. if you encourage wyll to not sign the second pact, mizora taunts him with his fathers death but still says shes genuinely impressed that hes choosing himself over his father

genuinely i think what mizora wants is for wyll to become a more assertive person. a more selfish, self interested, less heroic, less self sacrificing individual. i think mizora considers wylls tendency to bend over backwards to help people to be actively detrimental to him, and i think shes invested in his growth as a person by virtue of being a guide and companion for seven of the loneliest years of wylls life, and in a fucked up devil kind of way i think she invests her pride into it. that, with her plans so thoroughly mangled, the LEAST she can do is forge wyll into a warlock worth the cost. wyll has so much potential he refuses to take, as minthara (another ambitious prideful character) will note, and its explicitly because he would rather give something up than take for himself. i think thats part of why mizora is so cruel and demeaning towards him, to try and push wyll to be pettier or more spiteful, instead of endlessly self sacrificing for the benefit of others, and this is even consistent with her punishment of wyll! she turns him into a devil and specifically notes that he wont be able to be the heroic persona The Blade of Frontiers anymore! ie the facade thats swallowed up wyll ravengard completely at the beginning of the story! i think her investment in wyll as a person is why shes so upset if you kill her at moonrise, because i think she genuinely thought that wyll would always save her and turning him into a lemure was a kind of bluff she didnt expect to cash in.

this would also explain why the terms of her second pact are so comically extreme. eternal damnation and serving zariel forever in return for maybe possibly getting to save ulder from a dangerous situation where he might die anyways from the absolute crisis and WILL die in a few decades from old age even if all goes well? its almost like shes taunting wyll. give it up, give up everything youve ever worked for and sacrifice everything you want to achieve to lock yourself into the worst evil you can think of for someone who banished you who might not even survive anyways. make this overwhelmingly stupid self sacrifice because thats just what you do wyll, never think of yourself or whats best for you, only other people, trade away all of eternity for the CHANCE of someone else getting another day, if THAT. this contract is so blatantly overwhelmingly unfair i DARE you to think so little of yourself youd agree to it. of course she wont congratulate him for choosing himself over his father, shes a devil and she has to rub salt in the wound, but that doesnt mean she disapproves of the choice. the only way wyll ever gets away from her is by thinking of himself and mizora takes every chance she gets to punish him for sacrificing himself and i think its because she knows he can do more if he just takes it for himself instead of passing it up. its the only kind of affection a devil can have. and every time i sit there and talk wyll through breaking his pact at moonrise and bully mizora into giving him a rapier (one of the best in the game, made specifically for wyll, made specifically out of his pact, when she doesnt have to give him anything and least of all something good, how its a reward specifically for wanting more from her and demanding it and not letting a circumstance where you have power over her go), i keep seeing hints of it underneath the surface.

a genuine devilish compassion for a warlock who rightfully loathes her, a loathing she encourages whenever she can. does wyll need an enemy to keep him from getting complacent? something to strive for thats just for his own benefit? it doesnt benefit anyone else for wyll to break his pact. most people benefit from him keeping it. its why he HAS kept it, all these years, despite hating mizora. i think mizoras taken it upon herself to do what the duke refuses to, and thats making sure Wyll becomes someone who can thrive in the world as she understands it. someone who has the ambition to reach higher, someone selfish enough to step on somebody else to get what they need, someone who refuses to get themselves killed just for somebody elses sake, somebody who doesnt give unless they receive in equal or greater value. someone who sees a situation where they have power, where someone needs them, and gets all they can out of it. and if not for people they want to protect, then at LEAST exploiting the people they HATE. does mizora demean him so much so that wyll is more comfortable firing back? so that wyll doesnt have to feel like hes becoming a worse person if he treats her as bad as he gets? if he treats his help as conditional, for her and only her, does he get to walk away feeling like he hasnt done anything wrong because he knows mizora does worse, and more often, and at least wyll will eventually help?

when he breaks his pact, and tells her no, he wont sign another, when he saves his father anyways, when he tells her off and gets everything he wants without sacrificing a damn thing, underneath the bluster and rage, is mizora proud of him?

things to consider sometime.

[exilley]

snowgrave's portrayal of the ritual of character ownership/objectification/weaponization being filtered through romantic undertones rlly drove home just how destructive the player’s influence can be. noelle's damsel in distress/princess in the tower gig intersects with kris's "knight" motif in a way that communicates the horror dimension of the whole premise extremely effectively. Two blatantly not cis and not straight characters being forced to adopt an uncomfortably normative romantic dynamic with each other. i like, pretty much instantly thought back to the one passage from the master’s thesis on gacha games that went into how a character “coming home” was reflective of a patriarchal framework of Having and Nurturing and idk i think it’s all devastatingly poignant in the department of latent desires affecting the things people enjoy in media

[hydrodidac]

NO NO NO NO NO I REFUSE NO NOTHING OF THIS IS REAL NO YKNOW WHAT FUCK ELIAS- I MEAN JONAH OR WHATEVER FUCK HIM AVATAR OF THE BITCH GOOD FOR NOTHING WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN S1-4 WERE ALL THE FUCKING WATCHER'S CROWN RITUAL WHY CANT THEY HAVE A FUCKING REST FUCK JONAH FUCK HIM I HOPE HE GOES BLIND I HOPE HE JUST GOES BLIND AND CANT GO TO ANY OTHER BODY I HOPE HE LOSES HIS BODY SHIFTING PRIVILEGES HES SUCH AN ASSHOLE AND ALSO NOW JON IS WHAT WHAT THE FUCK IS HE??? HES A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION NOW????

Now

The real question is

Did Martin see any good cows?

[dimespin]

So that bit where Carbon says that ahe would've decked the people being cruel to PenWell-- are Saratoans prone to punching people, as a species? I thought about it a bit, and I mean, obviously it's possible with their biomechanics, but they tend to lead with their faces, right, and they've got those big honking fangs, and they have claws that could cut into their hands in a fist. Idk I just wanna know about Saratoan fighting styles now

Saratoans are all in a mutually assured destruction situation with each other with their venom. In order to have a society they have to agree not to use it - spitting is obviously off limits, but biting too, since venom floods their mouths when they are feeling upset or scared or aggressive, so even if they weren't thinking of it as venom use, venom gets in there.

So the entire species has a strong inhibition toward spitting or biting at others of their species, to such a degree that even when expressing a desire for violence most will say anything besides "I'll bite you"

(and thus saying that is a more serious threat, because it's not just stating a desire for violence but also "I am so angry/scared/etc., I've overcome the instinctual inhibition")

When anyone tries to start a fight with someone else it's generally extremely ritualized. Humans often find it funny that they'll huff and puff and make a lot of smoke and shout at each other and then the actual fight is like... gentle shoving.

The intention is to show off health/strength, because a strong healthy dragon also has strong healthy venom. It's an implied threat "imagine how bad it would be for you if I used my real weapon. Back down"

When they do "punch" it's honestly not punching. It's more like a karate chop.

Carbon especially is affected by exposure to humans and human media also, and sometimes says things she's heard in movies because she thinks it sounds cooler than what would actually happen if she got in an actual fight (her actual fighting style is more scratching/slapping/pulling hair)