#the post-game lives of these two plague me

[aboxofcereales]

I think there should be some magnificent writing done of the looming moral dilemma of Elspeth Rook Mercar, the Breaker of Bonds, the firm believer in heroic nonsense, falling for a Lucanis Dellamorte, whose calling is death, the First Talon of the Crows. Because no matter how big and soft his heart is, he’s still unavoidably will lead the organization who helped to save Thedas, yes, but also is intertwined with many of the horrors that the Shadow Dragons oppose. And yet, still she will always choose Treviso, instead of Minrathous.

[museum-mind]

I CAN TELL YOU MISS ME

ᯓ★ sae thought it was the right decision to break up with you before moving to spain, but soon found himself checking your socials every other day — and searching for your face at every game.

a/n : i wanna do a part 2 of when sae comes back to japan but i don’t know..

“i’m breaking up with you.” … “this relationship will never last.” … “goodbye, name.”

sae’s words rang through his head like a curse throughout the whole flight, his teeth biting harshly at his lower lip.

was this really the right decision? was it really necessary to throw away the love of his life for the sake of pursuing his soccer career?

it better have been, because it sure is difficult holding back tears in front of a bunch of strangers on a plane.

he sighed, unlocking the door to his new apartment; it strangely reminded him of your cozy little place.

sae had to remind himself over and over that you two were no longer, you were just a memory of the past; someone who he left behind in japan.

but when he’s laying alone on his large, king-sized bed, body sprawled out like a starfish and the sounds of the lively city drowned out his own harsh words — “name, we need to talk.” — he found it so hard to let you go.

he was the one who ended things, he had to! it’s not like you wanted to go to spain with him — you had a life, and you’d just be a nuisance to him anyways.

that’s what he says to himself, hands trembling as they click on the new story you just posted on instagram.

it seems that your friends, whom he never really liked, took you out to a club, of sorts.

his thumb flew to like your story, almost like a reflex, but he was quick to stop it.

he scanned the picture, a fancy outfit hugging your curves — did you always have that, or was it new? he certainly hadn’t seen you wear something so… risky, before.

he taps again, the next story — it’s you with your friend. all he can focus on is the smile on your face, so bright.

you seemed to be glowing, as if you’d turned into the brightest star in the sky.

you’d always been like that, sae thinks. you were the star, no — sun to his moon.

now you’re glowing for the sick eyes of the men in that filthy club. he would’ve taken you to a much nicer place.

he scowls as he taps again, eyes glaring down at the photo of you with another man — he guesses your annoying friend took the photo and posted it.

they always loved to meddle, didn’t they?

sae turns his phone off, deciding he’s seen enough for one night. it’s not like he cares about what you’re doing anyway… right?

sae places his phone back on the table, the tiredness from flying finally getting to him.

“just a nap,” he tells himself, laying down as he places his hands on his stomach, teal eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“just a nap” turned into an hour of emotions. sae couldn’t handle it, the thought of you — his one and only with some other man?

well, you’re not his anymore.

and with that, sae finally fell into the hands of sleep, dreams and images of you plaguing his mind.

as the sun sunk low, the moon glittering beautifully in the night, sae’s eyes fluttered open. he didn’t realise he’d been asleep for so long — the time difference sure did get to him.

days went by, and over time he grew to get used to the time.

one thing he couldn’t get used to, was being without you.

he didn’t even notice when he’d look at your account, scrolling through your new posts — you’re so pretty.

you seem much happier than he’s feeling.. ironic, since he’s the one who broke up with you in the first place!

he had his first game in spain, muscles cracking as he stretched.

it hurt when he stretched himself, you’d usually massage his muscles to help loosen him up — what is he thinking?! he’s better off without you!

but he did miss the touch of your hands.

he wasn’t playing as he normally would, this match… anyone could tell, even you, who was watching from the other side of the world.

you stayed up late, your room lit up by the screen playing sae’s match.

his game is so off today, you think. is something bothering him?

it’s not like it matters, anyway, he broke up with you…

sae stood still, eyes blank as the winner of the game was announced; itoshi sae’s team had lost.

all his dreams of becoming a striker, crushed. just like that.

in the span of weeks; sae had lost everything dear to him. and it was all his fault.

you knew the look in sae’s eyes — it was the very same emotion he looked at you with before he left.

emotionless and empty.

you sighed, turning the device off as you lay back down in your bed, arms reaching out to where sae used to rest.

your hand balls into a fist, tears threatening to spill. you can’t help but feel angry, yet sympathetic at the same time.

but is he really deserving of your emotions?

no. he’s not.

sae knows that, so as he plops back down to his bed, he’s already reaching for his phone and turning it on.

he’s doesn’t deserve to message you — he doesn’t have the right!

so he was surprised to see a text from you.

“i can tell you miss me.”

[beat-the-morning]

Fair Punishment || Hozier x Reader

KINKTOBER - Day 7 (with some delay): Edging

Tags: edging, oral (f!receiving), squirting, over-the-pants/under-the-table footjob, teasing, hickeys, dom/sub dynamics, hozier getting called “sir” (only once tho)

Summary: You tease Andrew at his family reunion for too long so he punishes you once you’re back at his house.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Sorry for the delay for day 7😭😭 but its here now so pls dont kill me. Day 8 will be posted tomorrow if the curse (tiredness) doesn’t get me first

||💙 FULL FIC UNDER CUT 💙||

Andrew had a family get together today, you had obviously come along, given that you’d been together for a bit over a year, and the fact that most of his extended family hadn’t met you yet made this a perfect excuse to bring you over and save him from the same boring questions about touring and music that seemed to plague him every time his family saw him. The get together had started well, it was at his parents house so it hadn’t been a long drive over and you’d be sleeping at his house tonight anyway so the drive back wasn’t a worry. His whole family was there, or at least his mom’s side, but you didn’t know why exactly, since it wasn’t anyone’s birthday, you didn’t think about it for too long though, they didn’t let you anyway.

The second you and Andrew arrived, quite late as it always was with him, every adult and child in the house slowly flocked over to the two of you, first his parents and his brother, who you already knew, and then the rest of the family; aunts and uncles, followed by cousins, and finally the cousins’ kids, who only wanted to talk about shows and games with you. You were bombarded by questions, how old were you? What did you study? Where did you study? Had you thought about kids? What did you work as? Where did you work? How did you meet Andrew? Was it long before you started dating? Were your parents still working or were they retired? What did they work as? Was Andrew nice to you? Did you mind that he travelled so much for work? Did you travel with him? Did you want kids? When? What about marriage? Were you living together yet? Why not? When will you have kids?

Andrew held tightly onto you through the whole interrogation, as he would call it later while driving back home, shooting glances at his aunts and uncles whenever they asked about children or marriage. Once it finished everyone sat down for dinner and started sharing family stories, first about general family things, but, much to Andrew’s dismay, those family stories slowly turned into embarrassing stories about him exclusively. He would’ve done something to change the subject had it not been for your teasing under the table. He was across from you at the table with his brother to his right and the end of the table to his left, to your left was his cousin, a woman a couples years younger than him that was six months pregnant with her second kid. There was only a window beyond the end of the table, no one outside to see, so you decided to have fun, silently, you took off your ballerina flats on your right foot, slowly extending your leg until you reached his crotch, the table wasn’t wide so it didn’t even look like you’d moved at all, you smiled as your feet moved slowly up and down, eliciting a few soft gasps from him.

Andrew looked at you across the table with a deadly glare, you smiled back at him and kept talking to his family like nothing was happening. For the next hour you slowly teased at his crotch with your foot, feeling him get harder and harder until he was fully erect from your teasing alone. No one seemed to have noticed anything unusual thanks to Andrew’s amazing acting skills, which he apparently only had when he didn’t want his family to know that his girlfriend was giving him an over-the-pants footjob under the table. Dessert was brought out and eaten before Andrew could think of an excuse to leave earlier, so you left around the same time as everyone else, you had given your bag to Andrew so he could cover himself as you left.

He endlessly chastised you for “your little game” under the table while he drove you both back to his house. “You’ll regret that once we’re at my house.” He said sternly about halfway through the ride, and you couldn’t be more excited.

Andrew stepped out of his car once it was parked in his house, running over to your side and dragging you out of your seat by your arm and into the house, you giggled the whole way into the bedroom. With one push he threw you onto the bed, taking something from a drawer and placing it on top of his nightstand before crawling on top of you on the mattress.

“Now, what do you think I’m going to do with you, you little brat?” He asked, his hands caressing your skin.

“Punish me?” You asked back with fake innocence, trying to suppress a giggle.

“Yeah, and how do you think I’ll do that?” His mouth moved to your neck, biting and sucking until he left marks all over it. “You have three guesses, if you get it right I’ll go easy on you.”

“Spanking?” You mused, moaning softly at every bite

“Wrong, two more.” He groaned, moving back to take off your shirt and bra, kissing and biting at your chest.

“Hickeys?” You guessed again, Andrew chuckled, taking off your pants and underwear and leaving you completely bare to him.

“Wrong, last try.” He stood up from the bed and grabbed a silk rope from his nightstand.

“Overstimulation?” You asked, your voice shaky with arousal

“Wrong.” He smiled, flipping you over on the bed and tying your arms behind your back, only to turn you around again.

“What is it then?”

Andrew positioned himself between your legs, holding them open so you would be on display for him. He took his phone and typed something in, smiling to himself. “I’m going to use this pretty little pussy however I want for an hour, but you won’t come a single time.” He explained, his free hand running along your wet slit. “If you do, I will restart the timer and add another half hour, understood?”

“Y-yes.” You stuttered, already feeling yourself clenching around nothing.

“Yes, what?” He pinched your clit as he asked the question.

You corrected yourself. “Yes, sir.”

“Colour?” He asked as he leaned in on your pussy, his warm breath ghosting over your folds.

“Green.”

He tapped his phone one last time, putting it next to you so you could hear the ticking of the countdown, then he dove into your pussy like a man starving, he focused his mouth solely on your entrance, focusing on drinking every drop of your juices and letting his nose stimulate your clit by itself. His tongue darted inside you, fucking you slowly and tasting you at the same time, his head moved side to side and pushed in further into you, every movement was torturously slow in the most delicious way, making you moan and whine in a futile attempt to beg for more. You felt your peak slowly building up, and so did Andrew, the knot in your stomach tightened more and more, threatening to snap, your walls fluttered around his tongue and you felt him chuckle before he pulled away, his beard damp with your juices. You whined at the absence of touch.

“You taste so good, baby, like honey.” He praised, kissing your thighs while he waited for you to come down from your high before diving in again once he deemed you were calm enough.

He repeated that same thing twice more, fucking you with his tongue and drinking you in while his nose stimulated your clit, bringing you to the edge only to pull away at the last second, your whines becoming more and more complainy and demanding as he teased.

“Time?” You asked in a whine while Andrew kissed your inner thigh again, waiting for your body to calm down again.

“Let me check,” he pulled away from you and looked at his phone, humming softly. “Only forty minutes left, pet.”

You whined loudly again, struggling against your restraints that held your arms to your back. Your whines were met with a sharp smack to your clit from Andrew, making you hiss and clench around nothing once more.

“Quit whining, this is a fair punishment after what you made me endure.” He scolded you. “Colour?”

“Green,” you breathed out, playfully pouting at Andrew.

He smiled back for a second, standing up from the bed and undressing completely. He kneeled on the bed again, turning you over and making your ass stick out while he pressed your upper body onto the mattress. “Such a pretty ass,” he said quietly, his free hand caressing one of your asscheeks. He moved his cock to your slit, lubing it with your juices before thrusting into your pussy in one swift movement. He groaned at the feeling, you yelped, being already sensitive from the previous stimulation. Slowly, he started fucking you, moaning quietly while still pressing you against the sheets.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, pet. I should fuck you like this more often.” He chuckled, speeding up his pace.

You moaned more, high-pitched and needy moans filling the room as you mindlessly pushed back against him, trying to take him deeper. His hand snaked around to your clit, toying with it and bringing you to the edge before pulling away and slowing down his hips to an idle pace. Then he did it again, pulling your upper body to his chest and kissing your shoulders while his hand played with your clit again, pulling away at just the right time so you wouldn’t be able to orgasm. He did the same thing again, tears of frustration starting to form in your eyes.

“Please…” you begged in a shaky voice.

“You know you can’t yet, baby.” He smiled into your neck, quickening his pace again and going back to playing with your swollen bud. He checked the time left. “Just fifteen more minutes, love, you can hold on for a bit more, I know you can. What’s your colour, pet?”

“Green.” You cried out softly, the tears flowing freely down your face.

“That’s my girl.” He praised softly, kissing your neck from behind.

You felt the coil in your abdomen tightening painfully again, and, as you had expected, Andrew pulled away once more. You whined loudly, struggling against the restraints again. Andrew pulled out of you, laying you on your back again and positioning himself between your legs, with one hand he moved your leg up to his chest and entered you again, his free hand moved to your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb and caressing you softly. He moved quickly again, at just the right angle to hit your g-spot just right. Your moans became louder and louder as you neared your peak, you heard a faint sound coming from Andrew’s phone, he reached over to it and turned it off, giving you his full attention.

“Time’s up, pet,” he said into your ear, kissing your neck. “Come whenever you want to, my love.”

His pace remained relentless as he fucked you, trying to reach his own peak. His hand moved to your clit again, making you hiss. The coil in your stomach got tighter, your legs trembled, and then, you came, your vision went white, your toes curled as you released all the pent up energy, your hips thrusted up and your breathing hitched for a fraction of a second. A semi-opaque white liquid shot out from you and onto Andrew, soaking him and the sheets. He smirked at the sight, emptying himself inside you right after.

“Did I..?” You mumbled, not even finishing your sentence from how exhausted you were.

“Squirt? Yeah, you did.” He chuckled. “You’ve never done that before.”

“Didn’t know I could,” you replied. “Can you untie me? I think my arms fell asleep.”

“Of course, baby.” He kissed your neck one last time before pulling out of you and making you sit up to take off the silk rope. “There you go.”

You moved your arms to your front, caressing your wrists to soothe them. You felt the tiredness calling you to sleep, Andrew cradled you in his arms, caressing your hair.

“Baby,” he called your attention. “We should take a bath, get you cleaned up, what do you think?”

You hummed softly, nodding into his chest. He chuckled again, standing up with you in his arms and taking you into the bathroom to wash up. He’d worry about the sheets later, you were his main priority.

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart pt. 2.5

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,

summary: ellie gets your phone number.

author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling

italic = ellie and bold = reader

part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.

both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.

its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.

“so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.

“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.

“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.

you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.

by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.

“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.

you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.

“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.

“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.

“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.

“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.

“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.

“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.

“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.

you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.

hey sweetheart

you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.

hi ellie

dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay

yes she said she was going to

well in that case, she said you needed to buy

yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it

well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.

thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.

you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.

she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.

they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.

mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.

bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.

if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure

you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,

i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…

yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.

that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.

it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.

[katyahina]

Romina, Scarlet Rot and God of Rot interpretation? What is the Abyss and what 'stagnation' has to do with Scarlet Rot?

(This is a reply for an ask I've got on my other blog) Anon I am sorry I am THIS late, I swear it was just me deliberately avoiding progressing in the DLC because I didn't want it to end + bad timing :pensive: But thank you for leaving this ask because I did want to discuss her as soon as I've met her!

What Happened:

She WAS a victim on Messmer's tyranny, and shown in the second trailer ( x )! Moreover, she originally appears to be from Belurat; not only this trailer shows Messmer specifically burning it, but also this is the exact previous scene before Romina appears:

So I am getting an impression that originally, these buds appeared in Belurat, and somehow Romina knew to relocate them somewhere else:

+ Also, if anyone here can read Japanese please let me know because I've heard that a more accurate translation would be 'she found a divinity and clung to it' or something alike! Here is the Japanese text:

全てを焼かれた教会で ロミナは異形の神性を見出し 禍々しい、朱い腐敗に縋った

焼け跡に、また蕾が芽吹くように

Abyss and Stagnation in this:

My initial interpretation was that originally, this type of buds was growing IN Belurat, and then what she saved got relocated in Rauh Ruins, but "within the scorched remains" part makes it sound as though their fate was being decided right in the moment of the tragedy! So, somehow, what later became Scarlet Rot appeared within the ruin! After all, Formless Mother is another precedent of a god originating from the tragedy:

But why would a plant-insectoid life sprout within the fire? So, basically, I'll dive into headcanons territory for this post, but hear me out! We are not sure what the 'Abyss' is, however.. what IF, when Messmer gets a bit TOO into using his powers, the power of Abyssal Serpent is capable of opening sort of a 'gateway' into somewhere else, and some kind of horror might escape that 'Abyss'?

+ I need to add that Abyss of the serpent plaguing Messmer and Abyss of the woods tormented by Frenzy are different things though; whereas serpent's Abyss is 深淵 meaning literally an abyss, Woods' Abyss is 奈落 that means Naraka (Hindu Hell)! His serpent is AKTUALY named Base Serpent, but he refers the 'Abyss' in his Stage 2 transition: '光無き、深淵の蛇が'. ( x ) In fact, his dialogue in both English and Japanese original suggests the 'Abyss' is a PLACE, where Base Serpent comes from! The mysterious space without light!

Look I can't help using this meme just deal with it fdsgfdgs So, let's say that Messmer got so unhinged that the gravity of his powers still opened up the Abyss a little, even despite the seal Marika gave to him!

The next interesting thing is that there are no traces of Scarlet Rot in Belurat, despite Romina presumably releasing/creaing it right on that spot! There ARE poisoned swamp, the illness that turns people into fly-men, and even giant Spider Scorpions that are a variant specifically developed because of Romina:

+ they likewise deal regular poison, not Scarlet Rot! Some of them developed the wings as well:

So it is more likely that what Romina allowed to live (to the worse or to the better you decide) was not yet the Scarlet Rot itself, however it developed INTO it later, together with her. But what was freed that day and what left its traces in Belurat, as well as spreading across more of the Shadow Realm with at least two villages full of man-fly sickness, was 'stagnation'!

It is a concept commonly addressed across other Fromsoft's games, specifically the stagnation of water 穢れ (kegare)! Poison and Scarlet Rot are connected through themes of poison AND stagnation of water! It is what becomes a poisonous swamp, one of the most Rot places is literally named Stillwater Cave and all that. Scarlet Rot is a 'stronger' version of the venom that becomes of stagnation!

^ (looking through this ( x ) model view video) Additionally, Romina features not only part of the scorpion but also part of the centipede, and centipedes were used as a symbol of human dregs in Sekiro and Bloodborne!

I've also noticed that Blood of Formless Mother, Scarlet Rot and Deathblight are all connected by shared themes of plantlife and spontaneoutsly sprouting winged insects! With the cursed blood, flowers quite literally grow from it and flies spawn from impurities within festering blood swamps. Deathblight are literally roots with multiple flies spawning along them + often getting to fly free too. Scarlet Rot IS associated with flowers and butterflies, and whereas Malenia herself never got insectoid wings (since wings of Goddes of Rot ARE the butterflies, like stated by Romina's incantation), her knights did:

(Close look by Zullie the Witch ( x ) as I've never took a picture)

These three scourges feel like three ugly siblings to me fsdhhfds Needless to mention that Blood Oath, Scarlet Rot and general poison incantations are crammed into the same category, and Death ones aren't here only because they're sorceries!

More interestingly, in Rauh Ruins we find not only Scarlet Rot, but also the Bloodfiends (so, the Formless Mother guys) AND Deathblight:

^ I forgot to take the picture as a proof that the Dancing Lion in Rauh uses Deathblight, so here is screenshot from this ( x ) video of battling it! There are NO Deathroots anywhere near its arena, however it summons Basylisks in the second stage and deals Deathblight damage itself! Divine beasts, additionally, are Belurat thing too!

So, we have all three of these 'affiliations' in Rauh Ruins, giving a strong impression that it is full of Belurat survivors! Whereas the man-flies sickness is found here too, Romina, Bloodfiends and death-dealing Dancing Lion all feel like they've went separate Pokemon Eevelution from the same initial 'stagnation' concept that is the sourse of fly sickness fhhsdgfds I think that either 1) it is exactly what I just joked about, and stagnation is able to naturally develop into one of these stronger "branches" over time or 2) it develops into something specific under influence of an outer god; Deathblight doesn't need 'Prince of Death' since Outer God of Death IS a thing!

Survivors of Belurat here found their affiliations, initially getting afflicted by the "clean" form of it, fly sickness Romina allowed to escape and live!

^ So yeah @ second anon, I do also think that Romina in Rauh guards what is left of her civilisation! Such as one of like, two Dancing Lions and other Hornsent that unfortunately got manfly sickness too! Except, she is not antagonistic to the Scarlet Rot or sees it as her tragedy, but on the contrary: she sympathised with it!

I know it sounds more like a fairytale than an solid theory, but my impression is that a lot of 'waste' goes into the Abyss space and supposedly should have been burnt by the Base Serpent forever! Not as something inherently evil, but just a natural part of the course of life! Eiglay is the God-Devouring serpent, too! Both of them serve as the forces that ensure everything and everybody meets their end eventually, they might even be related! Again, Dark Souls for one had ten Primordial Serpents! We know three here (Base Serpent, Winged Serpent and God-Devouring Serpent) but it could be still a throwback like Fromsoft loves doing!

I think maybe someone, at some point, believed that living forever was a better idea and might have "killed" Base Serpent and Eiglay both! As we know from Rykard's last words though, 'serpent never dies' and he probably was right!

^ Whereas Eiglay had to grow back from a tiny snake again, Base Serpent settled in Messmer's body being so tiny that it could curl behind his eye! Both needed to recover their former power, so whatever eventually slipped in the Abyss was free to persist, rot further and escape back into the living world given the chance!

+ bonus:

Trina ends up having a lot of petals and flowers as part of her body, not unlike Romina, whereas Miquella had insectoid wings at the moment of being kidnapped! The same trademarks of the 'stagnation' again!

I questioned whether it was just Crucible at first, since it also features flowers and wings! In the DLC we've learned that the Fell God himself was connected with the Crucible (Furnace Visage) and Radagon has his red hair due to the curse of his Fire Giants (Giant's Red Braid) 🤔 But.. crucibles are MANY things. It is also horns, spikes, feathered wings, scales, you name that! A LOT of aspects of organic life and not just these two! So I think the Crucible Curse is safe to stay within Morgott and Mohg, and this more likely refers to Miquella himself getting infected at some point! Whether it was having sucked Scarlet Rot out of Freya's wound, or napping in the Haligtree that was getting slowly scarlet-rotten, or both! Sure there are no traces of it left when he becomes a God, but Trina was discarded before that of course! Alternatively, he was a victim of stagnation himself due to not being able to age physically. He, himself, was a lot like Scarlet Buds that are "never to bloom". Endless child state of a body and buds that can't bloom are like eggs that can't hatch but will go terribly bad over time.. what is MORE stagnant?

Who is the God of Rot and why the pink color?

Another side of Romina is a tail of a scorpion, and the giant variant of Spider Scorpions is said to be the result of her actions! At the same time, God of Rot itself was scorpion-like!

I think this makes it... oddly coincidential, that God of Rot is a scorpion at least partially, whereas scorpions are native for the Shadow Realm AND were important animals for Belurat! Like I said before, Belurat strangely has no signs of Scarlet Rot for a place where Romina presumably created/unleashed it!

So, maybe rather than God of Rot already existing as is, it received a particular form in the 'outside' world! I'd say the same for Formless Mother, but her form is ABSENSE of form kind of fdhshdfs Maybe 'receiving the character' is a better way to describe it! Formless Blood, Scarlet Rot and most likely Deathblight didn't exist "outside" but developed from the shared source, and their gods (at least two of them) were born thanks to people! God of Rot might have manifested from a giant scorpion Romina took special care of, or a scorpion who got the 'divine' energy for another reason since giant variants are still not JUST in Rauh! Again, like how Formless Mother manifested in the shadow of a corpse of someone else! The Scarlet Rot became a thing thanks to Romina, developing within her over time!

Again, this is just my idea that Outer Gods are "born" in "our" world rather than simply exist as is, especially since 'outer' is just a type of gods meant to be discerned from Marika's family and who are like Lovecraftian mythos! I just think so because the scorpions connection is a bit too coincidential! It is not necessary!

Eiglay is a God-Devouring Serpent, not Demigod-Devouring Serpent, however, so I think in either case her purpose had more to do with not letting guys like this to ruin the world! Things just must die eventually, not endlessly exist via endless rot/rebirth cycle not allowing for any truly new life to sprout. It makes it double awesome that Base Serpent, and maybe even Eiglay herself, are connected with the fire element as fire itself is ALSO not just an evil force of destruction! It is meant to help the nature to "clean" so it doesn't rot; this power simply must be kept in check to not burn SO much that there is nothing left to be born from the ash and ruin *looks at Frenzied Flame*

Lesbian flag colors joke aside, it seems that color pink is a mark of lacking the master and/or the capacity to bloom! I do think that blooming is a thing only a Demigod is able to do! +remember that Millicent is a unique sprout of Malenia, carrying more of her signs as a Demigod than other girls!

Orange/red is the color of 'true' Scarlet Rot, and you could see even God of Rot itself was orange from Scorpion's Stinger look! It craves the buds that will bloom to grow stronger and increase, similarly to how Formless Mother craves wounds!

+ I also think that Bloodflame is the mark of more "perfect" form of the same concept similarly, as it becomes self-cleaning this way! It similarly could only be accomplished by getting a Demigod (Mohg) involved, whereas regular Bloodfiends are using just the blood itself! Then, Deathblight was not receiving the big roots as we could witness by Dancing Lion in Rauh, without getting a Demigod (Godwyn) involved! The cringe triplets........

________________________

So in the conclusion, Romina reached out for the 'twisted divinity' she witnessed somewhere in the middle of the ruin of everything she knew before, similarly to how Bloodfiends chose to revere the 'twisted deity' found in a corpse of their ancestor as they've lost everything! These two affinities have connotation with strong misery, and it is additionally confirmed by how Millicent can only bloom if she experiences the pain of betrayal! Some sinister power only appears within a lot of pain and death, but on itself it is just "flowers and wings", and a concrete God is born in the place it appears at, depending on the circumstances. It needs the miserable person as much as the miserable person needs it; a call is nothing without the receiver. Together, they define more specific purpose and affinity for it to continue existing and poisoning everything!

...not 100% sure that Deathblight is just as similar, because how do you birth death? Maybe it similarly came to be through the first person to die (Nito, you?????)

P.S.: I'll be damned if the water Dancer Fairy didn't originate from Rauh and simply freaked out upon seeing Romina telling the God of Rot "may you find your worth in the waking world" fsdhfhds

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (6) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the highs (friends) and lows (exes) of life aka lina lore 👀 preface : i know nothing about nfl or american football so suspend ur beliefs if u happen to know a thing or two, also my amateur photoshopping skills are really improving from this

masterlist | last part | part 6 | next part

INSTAGRAM

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon and 142,394 others

logansargeant The long-awaited ultimate rematch tagged: selinabui and oscarpiastri

alex_albon Wait, why wasn't I invited?

selinabui ok captain america pack it up ↳ logansargeant @ selinabui Stay mad 😎 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Why would you challenge two professional racing drivers to a racing game? ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri i thought you loved me? ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Ah but you love winners more 😏 ↳ logansargeant @ oscarpiastri Stop flirting in my comments???

cofrisy_f1 LOSCAR??? OSCALINA??? LOLINA???

beemiepie she chose the orange car 🥺🥺🥺 ↳ siera_mblanc @beemiepie a true papaya girlie 🧡🧡

cameliazzz just posted to their story

replies selinabui cami, did u or did u not insist u'd be fine 😭

lukaszhang the SLANDER??? didn't we have loads of fun???

aidan_ebass Touché Millie, see you soon?

eb_jonno sidenote: can you bring mochi on the plane? are there food restrictions?

oscarpiastri

liked by opeightyone and 121,983 others

oscarpiastri 次回まで trans: until next time

piastri_lina obsessed with this couple's dedication to never tagging each other

opeightyone Get 'em next year 💪

selinabui currently feeling like a 1930's housewife waiting for her husband to return from war ↳ cameliazzz @ selinabui HELLO NOT YOU PLAGARISING MY STORY??? FOR A GUY??? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz nooooo wifey i didn't mean like that :(((

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 37m you've gotta be shitting me

NFL Jersey Numbers @nfljerseywatch · 1h Tennessee Titans RB Thomas Howard (@THowdy) is wearing number 24. Last worn by Kenny Vaccaro. #Titans

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 34m no fucking way... i don't wanna jump to conclusions but... ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 32m he tweeted about it. girl- jump to those conclusions.

Thomas Howard @THowdy · 58m The move to the #Titans has been a huge change, and 24 has been a number close to my heart for many years, I'd consider it a lucky number for a lucky year 👊 ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 23m eat shit and die i'm so fucking serious you have no right to wear her number ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 22m hahaha (not) funny but april fools was last week say sike RIGHT NOW

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 29m thinking about how tommy is playing with lina’s number i'm weak 😭 ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 13m no, we're absolutely not doing this, it's not sweet at all, do you even know how badly he treated lina? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 11m there are tommy-supporting linami’s in this day and age???

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 39m lina watching her ex and cousin play/drive with her number be like:

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m idk how to feel bc it's kinda hilarious that our little rockstar is slowly plaguing the sporting world with her number

lina !!! @EB_selina · 22m @LoganSargeant for my own mental health we're not going to talk for the next... 50 years ↳ Logan Sargeant @LoganSargeant · 8m I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong? ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 5m it's not you, it's just your countrymen (i'm generalising again)

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 35m WHY IS EVERYONE FLOODING MY TL WITH T*MMY SHIT ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m lina is one of the only music girlies who is SO SO SO vocal about how much she HATES her ex and you still can't listen to her??? ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m not just with her music but as in SHE OUTRIGHT HATES HIS GUTS ON MAIN she COULD NOT possibly make it clearer that she would rather shoot herself in the head than ever consider getting back together with him ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 33m i'm so tired can't you just let the woman be happy with oscar ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 17m liv, baby, i think you need to change ur name to 'defense minister of linami nation'

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 139,204 others

selinabui some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning

cameliazzz thought the message was 'let everyone know i'm doing ok'? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz message appropriately sent :)

oliviarodrigo AAHHH stunning as always 💝💝 ↳ selinabui @ oliviarodrigo watch out, the literal moment we're in the same city i'm hunting u down (my favourite american 🥺)

oscarpiastri Haha not me though right :) ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri idk maybe...?

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h this is really hindering my enjoyment of 'so american' ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 1h I reaaally hate to break it to you but I think you might be the American in this relationship ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 53m take that back rn i'm serious ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 49m Which one of us has lived in California for half a decade? 🤔

↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 37m can you imagine waking up to that face? oscar piastri, you lucky bitch

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h oscar piastri i was not familiar with your game ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h selina, i understand you now, i get it now, truly i do, hooooly

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h i think the entire empty bottles fandom and oscalina shippers trying to cleanse the tl by posting some of the most jaw-clenching, hottest pictures of oscar and lina is so funny ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h the best part is that it's actually working and also so many more empty bottles fans are realising how unfairly attractive oscar piastri is

INSTAGRAM

selinabui Seoul, South Korea

liked by oscarpiastri and 138,958 others

selinabui heal my s(e)oul tagged: cameliazzz, blublublupi, and lukaszhang

lukaszhang i thought i specifically asked you not to post that ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang i actually wasn't gonna but then you told me not to so obviously i had to

oscarpiastri 🧡 ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri any other fucking colour heart i beg ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You know I'm contractually obligated

emptybottlos i'm convinced they agreed to go on tour just to travel, visit friends and eat a bunch of authentic food

ceciliapham someone else is in seoul rn 👀 ↳ marie_h.sb @ceciliapham in what world do you think your gonna see lina and chris yamada in the same room again?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

[clare-875]

Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 26

[The Waiting Game]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary: "You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven] _____

[Three Months Later]

It had been three months. Three months since Levi felt the whisper of your touch, heard the fleeting sound of your voice, and saw your angelic smile as you gazed up at him. He was doing no better than that retched day when he found out that you had been stolen from him, by the enemy he swore to kill; to destroy. He could feel himself slowly losing his mind. He rarely left your shared chambers. He rarely ate anything. He rarely slept at all, and even when he did, he was plagued by nightmares of your screaming, your voice taunting him. He still remembers those dreams, haunted by them even in his wake as you call out to him desperately or berate him for his lack of strength in saving you. The worst ones are where you say nothing at all, silent with your blank eyes looking at him devoid of love or life. 

Hange is worried, to say the least. It had been two months since they caught him trying to flee the walls to look for you himself. They had berated him as he crumbled under your absence. How they needed to be more prepared, how the enemy spanned wider than he could possibly imagine. How he would die if he left alone. But Levi didn't care anymore. He didn't know where you were, if you were hurt, if you were being tortured... he didn't even know if you were alive. He was utterly exhausted, utterly heartbroken and he didn't know what to say or do. The usual cleanliness he held himself to starts to deteriorate around him. Now clothes and belongings lay scattered on the floor, broken glass haphazardly swept to the side, the trace of his rage several nights ago. Levi was glad that most of the duties left for the people inside the wall were to rebuild the town of Shiganshina after all the Titans within Wall Maria were eventually killed. 

It meant he was finally free to wallow in the absence of prying eyes. Hange was shocked when they walked in one night to see him, back against the wall, drinking alcohol from the bottle. So devoid of the man they knew refusing the drink they claimed was foul. What they once hoped would be better tamed by time was turning into the opposite. No matter how many weeks passed Hange couldn't remember a single day the dark aura didn't cloud Levi's presence, an embodiment of depression and loss. His usually pale completion seemed somehow paler and his cheeks slightly more sucken in. Hange couldn't remember the number of times they had to drag him out of his room or force him to eat and shower and look after himself. 

The man who had usually seemed so composed as he eyed death in the face. The man that had faced so much loss in his life, but somehow remained strong and rebounded for the next battle was lost in his misery. It was worse than Hange could've imagined. Hange and the rest of the Scouts suffered as well. Despite the many losses of the Scouts and Commander Erwin, somehow your absence hit harder. What sadness that was usually cured by your kind words, what comfort that would be provided by your warm embrace was now lost to them. And now Hange feels as though they had lost all of the people they used to call a friend. They missed your encouraging words, Erwin's certainty, Mobilt and their squad's presence and would do anything for even a snarky response from Levi. Now, the Scout Regiment's headquarters was barren, cold and silent. 

Levi was at a total loss as he lost himself in the lack of light you usually brought him. Sat slouching on his desk his pen moved across the page robotically filling the lines of paperwork he somehow was still left with. But nothing was enjoyable about it now. He couldn't hear your sweet muttering about your day or feel as you quietly undid the sore muscles in his shoulders. He was still waiting for you to open the door like you usually do, smiling softly with a pot of tea and two mugs in your hand. Levi felt a teardrop fall from his face and onto the current page he was working on, slightly smearing the ink, but he could only grit his teeth. He rubbed at his face harshly trying to continue without breaking down or losing himself in his rage, things he admits to have done several times these past few months. He wanted to kill Zeke. He wanted to find you.

He reaches for the next piece of paper in the massive pile on his desk but accidentally ends up knocking the entirety of its contents on the floor. Levi feels the lack of patience creep in as he snaps the pen in his hands in half before he groans and goes to pick up the pages now scattered on the floor. His heart is heavy in the screaming silence of the room and he swears he hears ringing in his ears from the intensity of it as he slowly picks up the pages. His eyes then go to the underside of the armchair in the room to reach for another piece of paper before his hand falters at the sight of a small green box underneath it. He freezes before he decides to pick it up. He puts his papers down and sits on the couch, he had never seen this before. But as he opens it, his heart gets caught in his throat as he sees the carefully folded pieces of paper, your handwriting spilled upon them. 

My dearest Levi, 

If you're reading this, I'm afraid it means I was unable to fulfil my promise. 

I know you are probably angry and I don't expect you to forgive me but Levi, I just wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me, for all of this time. When I met you in those barren streets of the Underground so many years ago, I could've never imagined my saviour could turn into such a loyal friend. I could've never imagined we would remain by each other's side and grow up with each other. I never let myself think that you could ever return my growing feelings, but you did. 

You were my light in my darkest moments. You were the safety I could always rely on. You were everything to me Levi. Every time I look at you, every smile you spare me, every kind gesture or remark, I remember it all. Just know that in my final moments, I only think of you. I only remember the warmth you gave me and the freedom and life you provided me. I will never blame you Levi, whatever happens, so don't blame yourself because I know you are. 

You gave me a life worth living. 

I'm afraid this is where we say goodbye though Levi. All I ask is that you don't do anything reckless and that you look after yourself. That is all I would ever want from you. You are such an incredible man with incredible strength, I know you will overcome this as you have done everything else. You have so much more to live for Levi, embrace your time here on this Earth, do it for me, for the both of us. 

Even in my absence just know that I will still fight by you and I will still be with you, always. I will wait for you my love, until you meet your end, which hopefully awaits far into the future. 

I know we never believed in saying these three words in the cruel world we live in, but Levi, I truly and irrevocably mean it when I say, I love you. 

Stay safe my love, until we meet again. 

[y/n] 

Levi can't help it now when his grip tightens on the pages of your writing and hot tears stream down his face. He fights to keep quiet in the dark and barren room that lacks the warmth of your touch; he wants to scream. He didn't know if you were still alive out there, but he swore to himself he would find you. He would find you and berate you for writing a letter after promising you'd stay with him. He would embrace you like nothing else mattered in the world. He would return the three words he was stupid enough to think didn't matter in a life shrouded by death. He would never let you go again. 

Levi let himself wallow for a few more moments in his armchair before he got up, retrieving his papers. Until then he would have to go on; until he would see you again. And then, he would present to you the small box he had in the back of his drawer. A box that contained a symbol of his promise and his love, all embedded in a dainty ring. 

.... 

[6 Months Later]

You let out a groan as you stared at the blank ceiling in boredom. It had been 9 months since you had been kidnapped or "saved" according to Zeke and you were starting to lose your mind. Levi. You missed him so much, but most of all you were worried. You hoped he was okay. You missed his warm embrace and the smiles he would spare you every day. You missed the quiet moments the both of you would share. You missed your late-night chats and cups of tea. You would do anything to be home, with him, but you can't. Not for another 3 months at least. After the events that followed your abduction, you had learnt more about the outside world, though you must admit you had seen very little of it. 

Zeke rarely let you leave the small room he had confined you to, in trepidation that you would be found by the Marleyan government or find your way to Eren. However, that didn't mean you had done nothing these past few months. Any spare moments you had continued with your training to maintain your physical capabilities, but also to spare your boredom. Other times you met with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. They were a bunch of interesting characters, to say the least. You couldn't say if you fully trusted them yet but you could tell that their devotion, especially the woman Yelena, to Zeke was undeniable. 

You hadn't met any of the other Titans including Reiner during your stay, but you were surprised as you learned that the Cart Titan, the one also responsible for your kidnapping should know you were there. You. An enemy on their territory. But you soon learnt that it was through the work of Zeke that they hadn't found you; him and his manipulative ways. During your stay, you had also been informed that Marley was currently in a state of war. The Marley Mid-East War. With Marley's operation to retain Eren failing, and the Colossal and Female Titan lost to Paradis, Marley's military capabilities were greatly reduced. This was noticed by the Mid-East Allied forces, a collection of nations that were against Marley, resulting in a war declared. 

With the development of Anti-Titan artillery by the Allied forces and the lack of Titans on Marley's part, it seemed like a close battle that still saw not an inkling of an end. Due to this, you had barely really seen Zeke, but it had also meant that you and the Anti-Marley Volunteers could plan your course of infiltration on the Marley fleet that would head to Paradis in three months without much disturbance. You let out a sigh. You didn't know whether you could ever fully trust Zeke and his endeavours, but you knew that Paradis desperately needed technological advancements and support, and that was what he was willing to supply. With an enemy as large as the entire surrounding world, and the continuous developments that render Titans more and more ineffective, you could no longer rely on the skill sets and resources the Scouts have developed. You would need all the help you could get, and so you reluctantly agreed to help them help you. 

You look up, breaking away from your thoughts as your door opens. It's Zeke. You sit up, you haven't seen the man in two months. "Ah, [y/n], you're still here." You roll your eyes. You won't lie, you did attempt earlier in your stay here to escape. But you soon realised how risky and useless it was in a massive town, surrounded by enemies and with no idea where to go. You had hoped to return before anyone noticed but you guess Zeke was somehow informed anyway. "Only for the time being," you mutter out before crossing your arms. "And the war," you continue as you look at the man who sits down tiredly in a chair next to the bed where you sat. "How is it going?" Zeke lets out a deep sigh. "It's rough, but we're managing." A long awkward silence takes over as you realise you have nothing else to say, that is, until Zeke speaks up once more. 

"You're leaving in three months." He says it like a question and a statement at the same time. "That's right," you mutter diverting your gaze to the floor. "I'm going home. I'm afraid you won't have me to keep you company anymore." You say sarcastically as you let out a tired sigh. He lets out a half-hearted smile. "You know, it might seem like we're on two sides of one war, but we're more likeminded than you think." He says dully, clearly exhausted after the day's events. "I'll miss you [y/n], it's nice to have a sane mind around here sometimes.” You grit your teeth before laughing humourlessly. "I have somewhere I need to be. Paradis needs those advancements we made and I've already been away for too long…" Your thoughts drift to the man you love once more, feeling the deep pit of homesickness grow without him by your side.

"Is it Levi?" 

You look at him, eyes widening in surprise, but Zeke looks at you, eyes grim as he sees yours glisten in the lamp by your bedside, illuminated against the darkened sky outside. "What about him?" You say trying to divert the attention away, but you already know he's caught on. "The Ackerman, huh... Funny the man who tries to kill me, is rather devoted to you." You tense at the sudden dangerous atmosphere. "What are you going to do?" You ask, unliking the heavy air that surrounds you. "Give me relationship advice? Use me against him? Restrain me here, not allowing me to go back!?" Zeke shakes his head at your rising words leaning back in his chair. "I already told you; I don't plan to keep you here any longer than I need you to. I told you I would help you return in a year, and I plan to keep my word…" There is a short silence before he speaks again.

"If it comes down to it, would you allow Levi to kill me?"

Zeke’s low voice echoes the small room as you look at him, your face grim. It's a question asked dully, but you know that Zeke is curious about what you will say. You allow the quiet to consume him for a second, but you already know your answer. "Yes." You say simply like it was the easiest answer in the world. There is a pause before Zeke lets out a low laugh that turns louder before he composes himself. "Is that right?" He mutters as he looks to you amused; this only makes your irritation for the man grow. "Then you won't blame me if I give my all in killing him?" It's your turn to go silent before you look at him like he'd grown two heads. "I'd like to see you try Zeke," you say before you let out a demonic but tired grin. "But I think we both know you'd end up in your grave long before you touch a strand of his hair." 

"Is that right?" Zeke repeats still amused at your obvious confidence in the man you're so fond of. "I'd make sure of it myself." You say quietly as you turn away once more, missing Levi's presence more than ever. Maybe if he was here, he'd beat the man up for you. Zeke lets out a deep sigh, his gaze turning more serious again as he looks at you. "I get it, I get it," he says as he looks at your more withered form. Despite having fed you often, you rarely ate enough these days, he could see it in your eyes, the turmoil that came with the absence of the man you missed. Despite knowing you kept up with your training, you somehow seemed smaller, more tired, more... lifeless. "I didn't come here to taunt you like this." You laugh at his words but it doesn't reach your eyes. You turn to him. "Really? I could've sworn that's all you're capable of." 

He grins but says nothing. "I actually wanted to let you know the plan. You will be heading to Paradis in three months after all and it's coming up soon." You look at him eyes sparking at the revelation. "I also have a message for the Scouts... a list of my demands." 

..... 

[3 months later]

You stand in a Marleyan uniform, head low as you stand next to Yelena in the same uniform. Your heart pounds against your chest. Thanks to Zeke's interference things have been smooth sailing so far. You take a moment of everyone readying for their arrival to Paradis to look up to the sky. You see the millions of stars lining the dark sky. You take in an intake of breath and embrace the cool air that has a hint of salt on it. You look forward and now glance at the dark horizon. Despite the lack of light, you embrace the sight of the ocean. If you were alone, you swear you could cry. You feel every rock of the wave, you feel cold bursts of water spraying periodically into the air. It was just like that night all those years ago. Except back then, you had been shrouded in your mother's warm embrace as she held you, escaping your deaths. 

It was bittersweet. The dreams that you found out to be reality held so much more depth and darkness than you could have imagined. Yet, you long for the man you've waited to see for more than a year. One day [y/n], you'll understand. You'll meet a man you love so much you just can't let go. You think back to your mother's words to you that day she made it to the walls, only to die with the rising sun. Well, I've met him mother. You think to yourself. And I won't let him go, not ever again. Yelena looks at you discreetly and observes the nostalgic look you have on your face as you look at the dark ocean. She says nothing as the voice of the man in charge rings through the air. The ship stops, static in the water, as the first team of soldiers board a smaller boat, and we wait for them to go ashore. 

..... 

"Captain! The team that went ashore hasn't made contact for more than two hours!" You hear the voice of a Marleyan man in the distance talking to the man in charge. "Hmm. Prepare to send teams two and three." The man says to the soldier, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Yes, sir!" The voice of the same man replies. "The island of devils defeated the Warrior unit. Whatever the cost, Marley must learn what happened." You grit your teeth at the Captain's words but stay silent towards the back of the boat. But suddenly the boat starts to shake from under you. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly go to stabilise yourself watching as suddenly the ocean is not at eye level anymore. 

You grab onto the railing tightly, watching as soldiers in front of you topple down the boat, some falling into the ocean, as the boat rises from the ocean into the sky. "Hang on!" You hear the voices of the soldiers scream out in agony and fear, but then you hear the Captain's voice confirm your suspicions. "I-It's a devil!" Sure enough, the familiar sight of Eren holds the massive boat up into the sky. You feel yourself smile slightly despite your current predicament; you were home. Eren's Titan takes long thunderous steps that cause your grip on the railings to tremble as he takes the boat to shore. Then suddenly you feel weightless as Eren carelessly drops the boat onto the body of sand below. You topple, landing harshly. Could’ve been a bit gentler Eren. You frown at your aching back before you sit up, you can't blame him really, he didn't even know you were there. 

You quickly get up though, as you hear a familiar voice rise from a distance. "Hello, friends from Marley! Welcome to Paradis Island!" It's Hange. You feel your heart uplift but you force yourself to be patient, grabbing the gun fastened on your hip in preparation. "I'm Hange, here to greet our guests who've come so far across the sea! Now, step this way and join us for some tea! By the way, we're already friends with this guest that arrived before you! Isn't that right Nicolo!" You hear Hange's bright voice filling the air. They never change. You think to yourself as you slowly move out of the shadows and take a peek over the boat's railing. You see Hange in the distance next to a blond-haired man you recognise to be a Marleyan soldier, not on your side.

Then your eyes avert. It had been one year since you'd seen him, but even from a distance, you knew it was him. The raven locks, the unfaltering expression on his face. Levi. Your heart pounds, anticipation brimming inside of you, forcing yourself to calm down. "Captain! Forget about me and shoot these devils!" You hear the soldier held captive next to Hange yell out to you. "-What are you saying, Nicolo?!" Hange interrupts as you see their face change into one you could only describe as demonic as they get closer to Nicolo's face. "Captain!" The soldier continues to shout. "Nicolo! Understand this, you devils! Marely doesn't mingle with filthy blood!" The Captain of the ship yells out to Hange as you walk towards him readying your gun, trying to ignore the anger in your system. 

The Captain aims his gun towards Hange, Nicolo and Levi, readying to shoot. "Go drink your pig piss with your filthy friends!" You hear the shout of Hange reach the air in exasperation. "Aww! Hey! You sure you wanna be rude to us?! Can't you see the Titan behind you?!" Sure enough, Eren's Titan remained silently looming over our vessel watching us carefully, steam bellowing from his large figure. "We'll never yield to you devils! Say hello to this!" The Captain refocuses his gun on Hange once more, readying to shoot, you see Yelena's hands twitch for her gun, but you're quicker. You raise your gun to the air whilst the other soldiers are distracted. Hange lets out a squeal as they look at the Captain with the weapon in his hand. 

A lone gunshot pierces the air. 

There is a deep silence. You watch as the Captain in front of you stumbles, before falling to the ground. Blood seeped through his head, as he looked blankly to nothing, steam flowing from the gun you held in your hand. "You should really be more polite to your hosts," You say darkly, as Yelena approaches from behind you, tension rising as your voice fills the air. Levi suddenly looks up at your form, heart pounding relentlessly at the familiar sound. "What's this?" A soldier yells to your left pointing a gun towards you, but Yelena points her gun at the man speaking calmly. "Drop your weapons." With that, more soldiers point their guns at you, but the disguised Anti-Marleyan volunteers come behind them returning the favour. You had the upper hand, the Marleyan soldiers held at gunpoint and outnumbered. 

Yelena takes off the helmet she wore before turning to Hange, who is still frozen in the spot. "Hange, I'd be happy to accept your invitation." She says, looking at them, still silent. Everyone's eyes are focused on you however, as you also take your helmet off your head, not knowing why you suddenly feel so nervous. Your [h/c] hair spills from the helmet, your [e/c] eyes now visible, along with the angelic features they thought they would never see again. You look up, only to see that Hange and Levi look at you as though they had seen a ghost. "Let's have tea," Yelena shouts from next to you, as you look at the two of them, tears now brimming in your eyes. You were finally here, after so long. 

"It's been a while, Hange... Levi." 

_____

A/N: We're entering the final season! Thanks for reading <3

[Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven]

Tags: @batboygirlie

[papermonkeyism]

I think I'm finally starting to recover, after a few years of artistic dry season.

The plague was a big hit, then losing my job and finally my social life collapsing once my IRL DnD group basically disbanded pretty much destroyed what creative juiced I had always lived on up to that point, and it's been HARD to just not having any desire to be creative or do anything.

But now that I have a job again, and have had it for long enough my bank account is stable, and having been adopted into a new DnD group that's active both in-game (weekly game sessions!) and outside of it (we actually talk and communicate generally as well! It's mostly online, but it's still more than I've had in years), I have started to feel more like myself again. That, and the brain meds. I can't overstate how big it is that my default doesn't have to be brain fog anymore.

Like, I'm doing evening doodles again? I'm actually having fun thinking up creatures and characters and plots again? I stopped carrying my sketchbook and pencil case with me everywhere I went during my dry stint of nothing, but now I actually feel like I'm missing it when I don't have it on me at times, like during coffee shop visits.

And I kinda... want to MAKE a thing again.

(Just thinking out loud again, pay no mind.)

I miss having a Project.

Jumping back into making fully plotted out comic feels a bit too much at this stage, though, so I probably won't dedicate myself wholely to something of that scale.

I don't know what exactly will be the final shape of Arcanth's eventual thing, but I'm currently enjoying myself in the fiddly worldbuilding stage. (And just so you know, in the slight off chance that I might maybe pick Wurr back up again some day, I probably won't tell you about it. After all this time and all the messages I've gotten, I don't trust you guys with that one anymore. Even if I would eventually get back to posting it online, it won't happen untill I have a full year's worth of buffer and that would still be a loooooooong way from now even IF I got back to it full time, and I still have that day job besides anyway.)

But what if...

I think an art book or a zine or something might be more achievable at this point.

I feel like the dinosaur project thingy needs some more fiddling with its eventual format (I know I already have enough concept doodles to fill a zine on its own, but I crave an excuse to go ham with watercolors and make full illustrations), but it's one option I still want to make eventually.

And I kinda want to do a slight redesign for the Singing People. (I bought a skull replica a while ago that had narrower snout than how I had drawn them. And I know it doesn't matter that much, and I can always invoke artistic licence and "they aren't necessarily supposed to be any specific real life dinosaur species, it could always go with the 'undiscovered' route if I feel like it and the Troodon/Stenonychosaurus material is super fragmentary anyway", but I'm pretty sure it would bother me anyway if I didn't at least try it out and see how it looked.)

Though I think I got an idea about what to do with Entica!

Those of you who've been here a while know that one started out as my pandemic project. The world had just shut down along with my job warehouse, things were still new and uncertain, and I suddenly had so much free time and not much to sink my creative juices into, and I wanted something low pressure to do.

So I dug up an old setting from my teenage years two decades ago, gave it a facelift, threw out my teenage baggage and just ran wild. No planning, no plot, just art.

The "no planning" part did get back to bite me when the morbs eventually hit and I finally ran out of the creative juices, but that's still a lot of very good material, right there, ready to use.

But I just thought of a new framing device that would work with the already existing material AND give the character more of a goal and agency to make plotting more fun! And I think I like it.

Instead of a random scribe with no background from a place I didn't bother designing who just wants to see the world, Didor now works for a library that has sent her on a mission [to document something and/or take a message to *place*]. She still wants to see the world, but now she has a background, goal and a motive to do so!

And instead of just hanging around at Maaro's cart while Maaro does her own unrelated thing, Maaro is actively helping in her goal! While also doing her job.

I feel that having Didor be on a field work mission would give it more structure while not having to technically retcon anything already existing, and gives more solid excuse to do things than "random encounter number 82" would. Also potential reasons for further adventures ("While you're already out there, could you maybe also do X on the way?")

Also I want to insert nawani in it earlier. I didn't even have them as part of the setting untill psrt way through, and I want to show them off more.

Maybe a travel journal, perhaps?

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Astarion + Evie, Accidental Marriage + Time Travel, please!

Send Me 2 Prompts + A Ship

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

A/N: This one was tough, not gonna lie, but I think I got there.

My first thought is something happens to land Evie far into Astarion's past

This is the time he's a magistrate before Cazador

For Evie this all happens post game

She and Astarion are traveling together, they're in love, it's great

But they come across a temple where some ancient wizard was messing with chronomancy magic

Evie triggers a trap and it flings her back in time

Lost and unsure of what to do, she makes her way out of the temple and towards the nearest place she knows she has friends; Baldur's Gate

Of course, when she gets there, it's not the Baldur's Gate she knows and it quickly becomes apparent just how far back she went

Through some shenanigans and misunderstandings she ends up getting swept in a raid and brought before none other than magistrate Ancunin

Evie doesn't do herself any favors by instinctually calling him "Astarion" and not "your honor"

When put to the stand, Astarion barely glances at her case before passing judgement, but Evie isn't about to take it lying down

Astarion told her more than once that even before meeting Cazador he wasn't exactly a kind man, but Evie hadn't appreciated his true meaning until that moment; he was a fucking asshole

Evie then very thoroughly defends herself to the point Astarion is turning down right red in the face

As much as he would love to be petty, there is an audience and he's got more cases to get through so he lets her go with a fine

Evie leaves annoyed and suddenly faced with a dilemma; does she tell him?

Her instinct is to go back inside and warn him about Cazador, but would that mean changing the future?

If Astarion was never turned then he wouldn't have eventually been captured by the mindflayers, they wouldn't have met and there was a good chance the Absolute might have prevailed in the end without him

On the other hand, how could she live with herself if she didn't even try

Magistrate Astarion meanwhile is fuming

It shouldn't bother him so much; it wasn't the first time a defendant had gotten mouthy in the courtroom, but this one was different

It wasn't just that she was Gur, even if that did rub him the wrong way

It was the way she looked at him, the way she said his name; it was more than a passing familiarity, she *knew* him

He felt deeply seen by her in a way he never had experience with anyone, and he barely knew her name; who in the hells was she?

He ends up going to hunt her down in the city too plagued with unanswered questions to think rationally

Evie meanwhile has resolved to fine Astarion the next morning and try to warn him when she finds him bursting into the Elfsong demanding to talk with her

It's awkward, at first as once they're face to face with each other; neither of them know exactly what to say to each other

Astarion realizes how deranged it is to walk up to a stranger and ask them "why does it feels like you know me"

Meanwhile Evie is wracking her brain trying to figure out how to convince him she's not some raving lunatic

So they get a drink, then two, then three and start to talk

Astarion starts with the trial asking her how she game to Baldur's Gate, hoping that will give him some insight as to where he might have met her before

Of course, Evie is decidedly vague about the whole thing

Evie tries to warn him about Cazador, but Astarion can only think of the man as some noble recluse

The family does have a reputation though, so he can't see himself making a "deal" any time soon

Evie just gets frustrated because he's not fully grasping what she's trying to say

The deeper they get into their cups the more they're just talking past each other

All Astarion is really hearing that this point is that a beautiful woman traveled apparently a long way to make sure he was safe and cared for

Evie starts to see Astarion's pretension slip away as he turns more into the funny, slightly goofy man she fell in love with; it makes it easy to forget when exactly she is

At some point words are forgotten and they fall into each others arms; Evie missing her Astarion and this Astarion reveling in being loved

Neither of them knows when it happened or even how; but somewhere in their collective blackout state they walk up together in the court house with a ring on Evie's finger and a marriage certificate in Astarion's hand

Astarion is of course horrified and immediately wants the whole thing to disappear, but due to the type of certificate they signed it's not as easy as a simple divorce

Evie is frankly a little embarrassed by Astarion's reaction, but she has to remind herself that he's not *her* Astarion

*Her* Astarion is no doubt doing something stupid right now to get her back and if this Astarion isn't going to listen to her warnings she needs to start focusing on making her way back

Queue the pair of them trying to ignore each other and being utterly unable to

I'm not sure of all the details, but Evie would eventually make it back to her own timeline having determined that this world is separate from her own

She is able to successfully convince Magistrate Astarion that she's not crazy and while she can't be certain he won't meet Cazador, he is different than when they first met and could end up making very different choices

Of course her Astarion to relieved to have her back and absolutely will not live down the idea of her marrying another version of himself; he truly is irresistible in every universe

Evie counters that if anything she's the irresistible one; he's the one that proposed to her after all

Some part of Astarion is resentful at his other version getting to live a life he had stolen from him; on the other hand, six months with Evie somehow managed to counter balance 200 years of darkness and ruin, perhaps he got the better deal

[koremakaria]

Love, Loyalty, and Lethal Revenge

Gong Shang Jues and Shangguan Qian

Characters' Analysis and Speculations (Long Post) 

While I love our main hero and his coming of age story in My Journey to You. I just can’t help being pulled in by our second main couple. Who can resist this pairing?

One a Stone Cold Warrior and One a Deadly Scheherazade  

But before we begin, I’d like to make it clear that I don’t consider My Journey to You as a romance drama. If you come in with the mindset of it being a romance story then there might be a lot of disappointment on how things ultimately play out. Rather, I think of the drama as a coming of age, family melodrama with romantic elements. Yes, the romantic elements are a prominent part of the drama but they enhance the story rather than being the central focus.

So with that out of the way … this is just my personal thought on this pairing.

Loyalty: Protect the Family

The theme of loyalty is prevalent throughout the story. Protect the family. Protect the clan. Protect the ones you love. Both Gong Shang Jues and Shangguan Qian are very similar in this respect.

Gong Shang Jues (GSJ), the stone cold warrior with an impenetrable armored exterior but with a heart softer than a melted marshmallow on a stick over a pit of open flame. He always put his family’s safety above everything. His purpose in life is to live to protect the family. You can see this when he mentors Gong Yuan Zhi while also quietly helping Gong Zi Yu to improve his martial arts skills. He steps up and took on the older brother role quite seriously. This seems to come natural to him. Power and status don’t matter to him as long as the family is safe. He’s content to just do what he can to keep the family safe.

Shangguan Qian (SGQ), the Scheherazade, weaving tales and killing foes, is also devoted to her family. If you believe her story of the Gushan Sect massacre (personally I do) then she’s as devoted to her family as Gong Shang Jues is devoted to his. The only problem is that her family is like all dead. And NO. They didn’t die the normal way (plague, natural disaster, old age) as they were massacred. So, my girl is hell bent on avenging her family. She lives to take the lives of those that wronged her and her family. She would and could do ANYTHING to get this revenge. She’s a spy/assassin infiltrating the Gong family so that she can get her hands on a deadly weapon for her revenge plan.    

Tensions: This deadly weapon is not for sale and it’s not supposed to leave the Gong family. So yeah. We have a problem. In fact, we have a big problem. When SGQ asks GSJ for help with her revenge plan after they “consummated” their “marriage” there are at least two ways to look at it.

One: she’s being truthful and is genuine in offering him everything in return for his help.

Two: she’s wants to gain his trust and sympathy by weaving a tragic story and everything is a lie

Now, it is important to note that when SGQ asks for help, she said she’d already tried multiple times but failed and so she needs help. She made it super clear that she’d give him everything in return for this revenge to which GSJ replies in a condescending tone with ‘what else do you have?’ which is very cruel considering that they had just slept together. (Yes the pool scene. Yes THAT pool scene)

My man, Gong Shang Jues, was brutal here. To be honest, I was shocked by his reaction, but it made sense to me. He’s quietly exerting his power here telling Shangguan Qian that he has the upper hand. After all she is asking for a favor.  Also we have to remember that these two never fully trust one another. They play a game of cat-and-mouse constantly … sometimes deliberately surrendering to move their chess piece forward. You have to read between the lines. They know that the other party is keeping something from them so it’s in character for GSJ.  He’s not fully trusting her here because her association with the Wu Feng Sect and his obligation to protect his Gong family. She’s not fully trusting him because she knows that his family’s safety will always be his priority and she’s not sure where she ranks in his heart.

Love: The Heart is a Mysterious Little Thing

Gong Shang Jues (GSJ) is the stone cold warrior on the outside. He’s the perfect emo-heavy metal band-heartthrob. Pretty standard issue. You know the drill … exuding dark vibes … extremely skilled and highly competent … I mean that alone is pretty hawt … but get this … he also comes fully equipped with a tragic backstory! So he’s the complete package.

In the love department, GSJ doesn’t really have time for all that stuff, he’s too busy protecting the Gong family but when the clan’s elders were like yeah … your duty to the family also includes … (check notes) … producing heirs … so best get on with it, my boy … soo GSJ decided on a bride that he wants to keep an eye on since he suspects that she’s a spy.

We then learned that despite his hard outer shell, his inner heart is soft. He probably doesn’t like the violence of their world all that much but is extremely competent in order to protect his family. Like this guy is a family man … like you guys …he’s ready to beef with anyone who threatens his family.

Shangguan Qian (SGQ) is a noble lady with gentle dispositions on the outside. She carries herself like a beautiful flower, delicate, soft, and bright. However, on the inside her heart is stronger than steel. She is a spy and she uses manipulation to get things to go her way … but if you believe her story about the Gushen Sect then she’s also doing everything for her revenge plan so her heart is also with her family.

Tensions: In terms of romantic love, these two were way too busy to even think about love. One is focusing on protecting his family. One is focusing on a revenge plan for her dead family (again if you believe her story). Love kind of crashed into them instead.

For Gong Shang Jues, he won’t ever say it out loud but Shangguan Qian is the exact type of girls he’d be into. For one, she’s very intelligent. She knows how to survive in dangerous situations. She seems devoted to her family (again if you believe her story). Her heart is so strong that nothing … and I mean nothing will come between her revenge plan. For someone with a soft heart, Shangguan Qian is the perfect match for him. He’s given his all to his family and just wants someone who understands him. SGQ gets him. It could be because she needs to manipulate him but there has to be moments he felt seen when she voices his thoughts and feelings out loud without him telling her about them.  

For Shangguan Qian, she is attracted to Gong Shang Jues’ soft heart because hers has been hardened through years of training plus her tragic past. If you believe the story of her family’s massacre than both she and GSJ are victims of Wu Feng’s thirst for power. It’s difficult to say for certain but maybe she doesn’t want to be this way. Maybe she doesn’t want to be the cold and calculating spy. (note: she talked a lot about having feelings and empathy with our FL a lot) If she accomplishes her revenge mission then maybe she can rest. Be her true self which we never get to see since her mission is still pending.

SGQ is attracted to GSJ’s good heart. She lives alone in a world of power struggle and only the lies she tells are keeping her safe and alive. It’s a really sad and lonely place to be. She can’t trust anyone because her ‘rescuer’ turned out to be her enemy who trained her to kill presumably good people.

So …to know that GSJ will do anything and everything for his family, there has to be moments where she yearns to be ‘one of his people’ to be his family … to rest under his protection. Wouldn’t it be nice to be protected … for once in her life. To have her heart at peace. When she tells the story of their first meeting, GSJ protected her from a group of thugs and he did so out of principle. Like he didn’t know her, he was just a good guy doing normal things that good guys do. But for someone like SGQ … that must have been a rare and precious experience. To be protected. Must be nice. But she wouldn’t really know.

Lethal Revenge: You Have Your Family and I Have Mine

So here we are again, back to this little revenge plot that may or may not be true. It could be completely true, partly true, or not true at all. Personally, I am choosing to believe SGQ because she also had a similar conversation with another person.

To me, it doesn’t really matter if the revenge plot is true or not. The important thing is what Gong Shang Jues believes to be true because my girl, Shangguan Qian, is sticking to her story like krazy glue. So now the ball is in his court. What to do … indeed … what to do?

Gong Shang Jues (GSJ). In the grand scheme of things, the revenge plot (killing Dian Zhu) is not harming the Gong family. In fact, it probably will benefit a lot of people. Shangguan Qian is not asking him to kill an innocent person but rather a dangerous person who committed a lot of bad deeds. So, my girl is not like asking for something so outrageous but yeah Shangguan Qian happened to want the Gong’s family secret weapon that is forbidden to outsiders so yeah … this is… in fact … a problem. Gong Shang Jues is not helping mainly because is undecided on her revenge story.  

Shangguan Qian (SGQ). Home girl here is like willing to risk it all for a chance to kill her enemy. She really needs to steal the blueprint of the Gong’s family secret weapon. I mean she might not need to steal it … if Gong Shang Jues had agreed to help her but he had not and like she doesn’t have all day to wait around for an answer that might be a big NO.

Can you really blame her? She’s just sticking to her mission. Her heart is so strong and hardened that she’s willing to show the Gong family’s enemies a way inside the clan’s territory. Important to note here that we don’t know if she thought the Gong family could handle this wave of attack but the point is that she was focused on getting the secret weapon for her own revenge plan. Putting her dead family above his. But even with this, something is not quite adding up. There was a brief scene prior to the attack that GSJ told GYZ that there was a task that only SGQ could do for him. Was he talking about SGQ's spreading information about the Gong family's weakness? Like were there working together? It's not exactly clear.

Now some people would say that she betrays GSJ’s trust and that she wanted the Wu Feng people to kill him. That’s valid. And maybe it is true. We don’t have enough information to conclude this for certain. Also, Gong Shang Jues never fully trusted Shangguan Qian. In order to betray someone, you first need them to trust you. It’s like the ONE requirement for a betrayal. Soooo yeaahhh … I’m sympathetic to Shangguan Qian here. My girl is like just trying to get her revenge for her family … if Gong Shang Jues won’t help then best be getting out of my way boy!

Tensions: The main tension here is what to believe. Does Gong Shang Jues believe in Shangguan Qian’s story of revenge? Because this is basically the make or break of their relationship … like she’s doing all these shady things for it. She even told him about it. Had asked him for help … practically begging him to help her … but Gong Shang Jues still has doubts in his heart.

Their final confrontation/conversation was exactly this. She’s taking half the blueprint trying to get out and execute her revenge plan but he’s like, babe … I already told you, you can’t check it out of the library. It’s a restricted material for internal circulation only. And so they fought and she lost.

But! He doesn’t kill her. He didn’t even restrain her when he could easily do so. No. They just talk … albeit with him pointing a sharp sword at her throat. But the point is that he’s being so nice here when he didn’t need to be. She’s a security risk. An enemy of the family.

She refused to hand back the blueprint and he can’t let her go with it since you know his whole personality is all about protecting the family. She talked about her revenge plan again and Gong Shang Jues said that he didn’t believe her words since he doesn’t have enough evidence to back it up. This man is all about being competent and thorough.

But Shangguan Qian then tells him that she’s not lying. That the revenge plan is real. That her family massacre was very real. She steps closer to him despite the sword at her throat and whispers something that short circuited Gong Shang Jues momentarily before making her escape. During this exchange, GSJ managed to get the blueprint back through a quick sleight of hand movement. It looked too easy … so I can’t quite decide if GSJ was just super skilled or if SGQ somehow decided to let him take the blueprint from her. Jury is still out on this. Dear readers this is up to you to decide. What to believe.

It was later revealed that she told him that she is currently carrying a Gong bloodline. Like my girl is preggo. Or at least she said that she was.

When you really think about it. She's showing him all of her cards. It's now all on the table. Like, if true, then he knows everything about her. She's not hiding anything from him.

And GSJ just watched her leave.

What! The! Hell!   

Speculations

In the realm of speculations, anything and everything is possible my dear friends. [release your inner demonssss!!! hehehe] Maybe I’m just reading too much into things but in any case we’re in the land of speculations so if you would be so kind … I’ll remain here in my little delulu corner.

A lot of people view this relationship as doom and tragic. A pair of star crossed lovers who can never be together because of their duties and obligations.

While I understand why some people would lean this way, personally I don’t think that it’s a ‘sad ending’ for these two. I don’t even think that there is an ending … not yet anyways.

Some of the clues that were given to viewers throughout the drama suggest a potential happy ending for Gong Shang Jues and Shangguan Qian.

Now it’s all speculation so who knows. But I am happy to be delulu to protect my heart and my sanity.  

Clue 1: The Azalea Flowers (I belong to you forever)

Throughout the drama, SGQ tried many ways to please GSJ. She wanted to manipulate his feelings toward her and he knew of it. Knew what she was up to. There was a conversation in EP 17 about whether he’d like the azalea plant that has yet to blossom and GSJ said that the flowers will bloom soon and she will know whether he likes it or not. Yeah …  I don’t think they’re talking about the azalea here. I think he’s saying that soon she’d know if he has fallen for her and in the process give her his trust. But he has not decided yet since the flower has yet to bloom.  

Then we see the azalea again in EP 24 with the flowers blooming and GSJ thinking about SGQ. We never got to hear his answer. Does he like her or not? And more importantly does he believe her revenge story? Not to mention the Gong baby story!!! Because this is where he needs to make a decision. He didn’t throw away the plant so he needs to decide on what to do next. Do you really think that GSJ will just let his baby go? To live a dangerous life out there in the world without him … yeah dream on sister! Remember GSJ is all about family. He’s the poster child for a family man. If there is a baby, you better bet your money on him being there.   

But then he would have to believe her words. And by that extension, he would have to believe in her. The last time the two talked it out, GSJ said that he doesn’t trust her words. If he doesn’t believe her revenge story then he won’t believe that she’s carrying his child. The two stories are now tied together. So whatever he decides here will be monumental.

For Shangguan Qian, we see her somewhere safe (for now), watering a bunch of azalea flower plants. Why do this? Is it just for sentimentality? Seems kind of odd for someone who warned FL to not fall for her mark. Could it be that she’s betting on GSJ believing in her story, both the revenge story and the baby story. I mean the two are tied together now. Is she just like chilling and waiting for him to come and find her? With his skills and how competent he is, like it wouldn’t be that hard.

Clue 2: The Gong Baby Story

We do not have sufficient evidence to prove or disprove this story. It’s literally just something you have to decide on your own. But there were a few clues given that it’s true. First, in EP 18 we see SGQ putting something in her tea and thinking about her time with GSJ then decided not to drink it. We don’t know what it is in that drink but in dramaland … it was probably a contraceptive tea to prevent pregnancy since she slept with him in the last EP.

Now why would she go and do something like that? A baby is a huge responsibility especially if you’re set on carrying out a dangerous revenge plan. But she took that risk. Why? Is she betting on GSJ coming over to her side eventually … even when he never gave her a clear answer? Maybe. It’s definitely a possibility.

Also, she didn’t accomplish her mission given by Wu Feng (even if she doesn’t want to work for this shady organization) and so she couldn’t really return there. If she really is pregnant then she would need to go somewhere safe to carry the child to term and as long as Wu Feng lives the baby will never be truly safe as a Gong baby. This could serve as a motivation to completely clear out the Wu Feng people for GSJ but first he’d have to believe that there is a baby.

Clue 3: “What Else Do You Have?”

So we circle back to this scene where SGQ offered GSJ everything in exchange for his help with her revenge plan. He was sorta looking down on her, maybe not believing her story. Maybe it’s another one of her many lies and half-truths …

SGQ: “So, if you can help me revenge and kill Dian Zhu. I’m willing to give up everything”

GSJ: “Everything?”

SGQ: “emm, everything”

GSJ: “What else do you have?”

Like this was the conversation they had after they slept together. It’s quite cruel for GSJ to say something so crass. He could have meant that she doesn’t have anything he wanted but given that this is a period piece and he’d just slept with her. To say that she doesn’t have anything of value that she could give him / bargain with him was so brutal. He’s basically saying that if he helps her then it’s because he wants to. That he had already slept with her. That he had taken everything she had. That she has nothing else to offer.  

Then … before she left in EP 24 she told him that she is carrying his child … BOOM … mic drop!

Because it’s actually something that Gong Shang Jues doesn’t have. This child (if true) is very precious to the Gong family. We are told that the mountains cause fertility issues and with the last Wu Feng’s attack, they lost a lot of family members including many young ones. So, a baby is definitely a big deal. A very very very big deal.

But GSJ would have to believe SGQ for any of it to matter and SGQ would have to be pregnant for real. But even if she wasn’t, they could try again. Because the point of her telling him that she’s with child is to remind him that only she (a woman) has the ability to bear children and his question to her “what else do you have?” well my boy … SGQ has the ability to give him children. It doesn’t have to be her specifically but GSJ sorta like her and he has to marry and have children eventually … as part of his duty to his clan … so now he has a decision to make. 

So what now …

Gong Shang Jues has to make a decision on his feelings for Shangguan Qian.

Believe her story (revenge and baby) or to not believe her story

If the answer is no … then they remain separate (I don’t believe in this. Let me be delulu)

If the answer is yes … then in my very humble opinion he’d go look for her and their story would continue …

I’m optimistic about their story. Why leave the audience with all these clues? And they’re both alive and well … SGQ is not exactly in hiding and if GSJ really wants to find her, well, he’d only have to get on his high horse and ride out.

Wow … that was a lot … I don’t even know if anyone would read this so if you made it this far … I hope it wasn’t too painful and thank you so much for reading.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Any games thematically similar to Fallen London? Blades in the Dark helps me scratch that itch on the tabletop, but there are probably others.

THEME: Fallen London.

Hello friend! So first of all, I’d recommend checking out the free ttrpg Skyfarer, written by Grant Howitt & Chris Taylor, and released by Failbetter Games, as it’s the canonical Sunless Skies TTRPG. So it’s set in the same universe! I’ve talked about it before in one of my Free Games posts.

Now that that’s covered, let’s see what else is out there.

Do Not Fear, by Hella Big Claws.

Do Not Fear is a Forged In the Dark Tabletop Roleplaying game, about accepting the fleetingness of life; and using the strength that gives you in order to combat a growing stagnation.

Fight as a Hunter, a person who has been given a Gift of Bloom; a fungus like infection that allows for incredible strength and regenerative ability; in exchange for subsuming your flesh as you die.

Combat or save the Rusted; living creatures infected by a growing viral stagnation; marbling their bones and rusting their flesh; sculpting them into horrifyingly beautiful creations.

Ascend the Tower; a large, multilayered structure which you call home. Interact with the factions and people within, as you set down roots.

This game is on my to-buy list for sure, as I love FitD games and I’m intrigued by the themes of infection and stagnation that appear in this game. This game is still very much in-progress and so there might be some bugs to work out, but thanks to the Itch.io Summer Sale, this game is currently half-off! Honestly the cover art draws me in as well, and I’m hoping that the designer has more in store where that came from, because I find it very evocative, and I’m interested to see where this game goes.

Beneath a Cursed Moon, by Karrius.

Beneath a Cursed Moon is a Gothic fantasy game that uses a system based on the Apocalypse World engine. Take the role of monster hunters and slay vampires, werewolves, mermen, and more in a game inspired by Castlevania and Bloodborne.

I’m seeing a lot of ties between Fallen London, Blades in the Dark, and Bloodborne, which is why if a game has Bloodborne in it’s list of inspirations, I add it to the list. Beneath a Cursed Moon is a pay-what-you-want PbtA game that focuses primarily on monster-slaying. Because it expects you as a group to create and tailor your own unique setting, I can see creating a space that evokes the same tone as Fallen London as pretty feasible. There are 11 different playbooks to choose from, and a whole section of monsters and monster-creation guidelines that give the GM plenty to work with. You should absolutely check out this game.

Vigilant, by Ill Advised Gaming.

Vigilant is a Gothic Victorian world of monsters and churches and eldritch secrets. Of Blood and Beasts and Hunters. Of Dreams and Nightmares.

Using a combination of rules from Caltrop Core and Powered by the Apocalypse, this should be a pretty easy-to-learn system. You’ll make moves similar to PbtA games, but you’ll roll pools of d4’s, similar to Caltrop Core. Characters also have a shared resource called Momentum, which represent show you can affect the narrative using assets present on your character sheet. Setting-wise, the world of industry is introducing new monsters to a world already fraught with the terrors of the ancient. Your characters are monster-hunters who find themselves empowered by the Covenants: knights, scientists, hunters, and more.

The game is still in early-access, so not all of the character options are available yet, but the setting itself fucking slaps. You should check it out.

Unhallowed Metropolis, by Strix Publishing.

It has been two hundred years since first the outbreak of the Plague, when the dead rose to feed on the flesh of the living. Countless millions perished in the chaos that followed. It was the dawn of a new dark age.

London, the capital of the Neo-Victorian Empire, is a vast, densely crowded city. Beneath the towering walls and crackling Tesla towers, where the fallout of a thousand crematoria darkens the streets, ten-million souls live in squalor. Predators, human and inhuman, stalk the slums and rookeries, preying on the unwary and the helpless. Beneath the haunted streets, resurrection men and body snatchers hock their grisly wares at blood-stained meat markets. Their clients are degenerate ghouls and amateur anatomists who practice the outlawed science of reanimation.

This game inspired by authors such as Mary Shelley and Edgar Allen Poe. It uses a point-buy character creation system, and allows you to play Dhampirs, Mad Doctors, Aristocrats, Criminals and so much more. This is a game about noir tropes, a Victorian post-apocalypse, and zombies. One of my favourite pieces of this game is the character class of the Mourners, who are a group of women hired to stand by the bedsides of the recently deceased, ready to decapitate them at the first sign of re-animation.

If you want to hear an actual-play of this game, the long-standing AP podcast Fandible has a campaign that is one of the longest-running games on their feed. You can hear from their play how much of a dearly-loved game this is.

What Lies Beneath the Darkness, by Cezar Capacle.

What Lies Beneath the Darkness is a gaslamp fantasy game about intrigue and struggle. 

You play as a Horror employed by a faction to expand their dominance over the victorianesque city of Ravenswatch, while you fight to balance the human and supernatural natures that inhabit you.

You will face the dark streets of Ravenswatch performing missions for your faction. You live an internal battle between your human links and your dark instincts, between what you want and what your faction demands.

This is a GM-less game that puts factions front-and-center, with both solo and multiplayer options. The game uses the Push system, which allows you to push-your-luck for better results, with a possibility of going too far, which I really really love. The game is gaslamp-gothic and supernatural, and puts the characters in fraught positions where they must work for more powerful masters, struggling not to fall into their personal darkness. I’m very very intrigued by this game.

Games I’ve Recommended Before

Slayers, by Gila RPGs.

18XX Night, by Deep Light Games.

The Between, by The Gauntlet.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Is it ever explained in the game why the Mc doesn't have their memories post-resurrection?

Like they get the Fool’s body and the fool is like new beginnings and stuff ( I ASSMUE, Tell me if I'm wrong) , but is an actual explanation in the game? Like did they also have to give something up even though the didn't make the deal? Is it because they don't have their original body?

Spoil it for me idc I just wanna know

The Arcana Brainrot Essays: MC's Memories

Hi anon friend! I hope you don't mind the ramble that's about to proceed -

Not only is the magic system of the Arcana pretty vague, when it comes to MC inhabiting the Fool's body, we have six different canon routes and twelve different canon endings, all with different implications.

With MC not being present for the ritual that gets their body back, it's fairly safe to assume that MC is not bound by any deals at the time of the prologue (though there is plenty of space to argue otherwise, given how vague the details are). Many of the routes include other characters reckoning with the deals they made at the time, but MC's reckoning has more to do with the truth than anything else. The best explanation, and to my knowledge, the canon explanation we get across routes for MC's missing memories is "because of the resurrection." That's it.

Here's where I jump from canon stuff to the implications I picked up through the different routes, focusing on the how aspect:

Similar to what other creators have pointed out in the past, MC's amnesia bears a lot of similarities to amnesia caused by traumatic brain injuries or (in my opinion) trauma in general. Based off of the occasions where MC is able to recover their own memory of dying, it seems like in at least some routes, the memories are still in there. They're just suppressed by a mysterious something. Given how the memory loss is associated with strong headaches, how said headaches are triggered by attempts to remember or vivid references to the past, and how attempting to forcibly remember something has led to further damage in the past, MC does seem to be in the middle of a nonlinear healing journey. As several of the routes progress, we can even see MC being able to succeed at mental tasks with lower levels of difficulty when previously it would have resulted in a debilitating headache.

My personal conclusion from all of that is that MC's amnesia is the result of the sheer trauma of dying and then coming back. It's a mind boggling experience simply to process the facts of what happened - let alone the physical and emotional experience. The story picks up with MC having physically recovered enough to live independently, and continues with MC's mental and emotional growth into fully growing into themself (in the upright endings). In some routes, they're able to recall a memory of their own as the story progresses, in other routes, any knowledge MC receives of the past is from other perspectives. Which leads to one of the biggest questions: can MC get them all back?

Some of our best clues outside of MC's personal narrative are the two other characters involved with returning missing memories: Muriel and Julian. (Asra, we know, forgot the details of the ritual itself, but otherwise has all memories intact. Nadia's missing all memories since entering Vesuvia for the first time, but it's never clear how much she gets back.) Julian recovers his memories when he reverses his deal with the Hanged Man, choosing to live as a normal person again with MC so that he can piece together the answer to the Plague. In his case, all the memories come back at once, fully intact.

Muriel's situation is different. He doesn't have any memories missing, he just has the capacity to take away the memories of the people around him. At first, the method for returning those memories is a sensory trigger (myrrh), but as time goes on and the deal loses its effect, the memories seem to slowly return to the people around him. It's different from Julian suddenly having access to the full breadth of his memories again, but the overall effect is the same: the lack of memory is resolved to the point that "normal" functioning can resume.

So, what does that say about MC's case? In short - anything. It really is up to how you imagine your MC, their past, the specific dynamic they have with their specific LI, how their future progresses post canon, etc. There's canon examples of characters regaining their memories gradually over time, getting them all back at once as the result of a deal, or simply learning to move forward and embrace the chance to start anew. And these are just examples of the default apprentice - there are plenty of MCs with gorgeously fleshed out backgrounds whose stories are their own twist on canon, where none of this really applies!

In short, how MC interacts with their missing memories is largely dependent on who your MC is. As to why they're missing - it's written as being because of MC dying and coming back. Whether that's due to the nature of it being trauma/a traumatic brain injury, or whatever other reason you can think of, is up to you ^.^

Cheers friend!

brainrot

[alpacahat67]

A Very Detailed Analysis Explaining Why Asrian is Mid

Yes, I've made a shitpost summing up my thoughts on the topic before. However, I regularly get into bi-weekly complaint sessions about this terrible, horrible ship.

I am willing to be burnt at the stake if it means I will be a martyr against Dorian... (I'm joking. This is Tumblr. It's not that serious.)

Under the cut is a lot of words! Be prepared

By the way all of this is Dorian's fault GIVE ME MODERN ARCANA I WILL REWRITE IT

I want to preface this by saying my opinions on the ship come off as very mixed? At least in my head. My problem is obviously more with the fandom than how it's portrayed in the actual game, as you will see. Unfortunately, it's just what happens in fandom. Asra x Julian fits the perfect mold for a potentially popular ship. Two masc-presenting people with a tragic story, yeah cool.

I don't care about people making art or writing about them. I actually think Asra and Julian have an interesting dynamic and I enjoy a lot of their in-game interactions. Here's the thing, and my thesis statement for this post, most of the fanworks surrounding these two that I see in the wild are using the dynamic for the wrong reasons! Furthermore, for Asrian to work out and genuinely last a while, you have to mischaracterize one or both of the characters.

I think that this stems from a misunderstanding of the characters and the circumstances under which their situationship (they didn't have a relationship, I'll get into that soon) sparked. Dorian's pushing of content including the two in a romantic or suggestive context does not help matters.

I think a good example of this was under the original shitpost I made about the topic. I won't put this user on blast because I don't recall their URL, and if you find it do not be mean to them. I had called Asrian one-sided. I do sort of agree now, Asra x Julian is not one-sided. However, one party sure as hell does not reciprocate the feelings as much as the other party does! Here's the thing, Asra and Julian's relationship was born from grief for the death of the apprentice on both sides. However you want to interpret Julian's relationship with the apprentice, it's clear that he had some interest in Asra following their death. But we can see very, very clearly in literally every scene involving Asra speaking to or about Julian, Asra didn't feel the same. Asra loved the apprentice through and through. Asra gave the apprentice half his heart for fuck's sake!

I don't want to say Asra was using Julian, or vice versa. But the other was a distraction from everything going on in their lives, from the apprentice's death to the plague. Hence, situationship. Although I do think there was romantic intention on Julian's end, chances are it fizzled out during the three-year interlude.

It's a very tragic dynamic and I do enjoy it! They drive me INSANE! It's just... a lot of people willfully ignore that. A lot of people ignore that they both have problems they haven't addressed that more than just some kisses will solve, both internally and with one another. And when you ignore that...

...You mischaracterize them. Haha, like my segue? Unfortunately, the best ending for those two is in Muriel's route. Which, as far as we know, the two didn't... ever seriously sit down and have a talk. Which is what they need to do. In order for those two to work out, they need to have a serious, long talk about where they went wrong in the past and what they can do to do better.

Do you wanna know something about those two characters? NEITHER OF THEM WOULD BE WILLING TO HAVE THAT DISCUSSION! Furthermore, their personalities in a lot of media I see (cough cough mostly from Dorian) are completely wrong! I love a morally gray character very much, people tend to erase that from Asra and only make him mischievous if not straight-up an asshole, or very cute and loving, as if the point of morally grey isn't a very confusing middle. I mostly see Julian being characterized as pathetic. Yes, he is my pathetic little wet cat sometimes, but he is smart. He's a doctor. Not only that, he was a battlefield medic at what we can only assume is a pretty young age. Julian has issues but he can handle himself.

I have a lot more I can say on the topic. In short, a doomed relationship where they just have to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't the right time or the right person is much more interesting to read than a perfect one where you get your happy ending. I understand the appeal, but if you want to write them being cute and happy together, I implore you to just... make an au. That is not fixing itself. They both need to be medicated.

[ectohybrid]

TOGA HIMIKO HEADCANONS!!!!

from me, a very correct himiko fan :3

these are kinda sad so erm warning for that

no 1. she's intersex, specifically she has classic CAH. as someone who's intersex her childhood and the story really resonated w me so i hit her w the beam. sorry

no 2. due to being intersex she kinda feels othered from her friends. they don't really know her or what she's going through, quirk and otherwise, and it made her feel like some evil imposter already. she has always felt like the odd man out, like a wolf among sheep. it made her violently ill at times just thinking of spending time with them because she felt so bad for it. and she if she wasn't feeling bad about it, then her parents were shaming her about it as if it didn't plague her every day. girl was going through it

no 3. when she meets magne it's her first time being able to not only interact with another openly queer person but also the first time she's able to have a good girl friendship. they learn how they want to interact with femininity together, like in canon they're literally the sisters of all time. i love found family

no 4. since she wasn't able to be her true self for so long she's incredibly open about things, randomly spouting off thoughts and actions as she's doing them. this can be weird, from "i wonder if we're walking on unmarked graves right now and the dead guys are mad at us" to "i think i'm gonna poop in thirty minutes"

no 5. she loves a good horror movie, it's another thing she didn't really get to enjoy before leaving. in the league dabi of all people showed her jennifer's body and it's been her favorite movie since. she sometimes paces around in circles for a while replaying it in her head when she's stressed and can't watch it

no 6. despite her taste for blood and me drawing her eating raw meat, i don't think she'd like actual steak raw. if it's not charcoal she won't eat it. she's only eating her steak if it looks like dabi cooked it

no 7. when she still lived with her parents she had an online persona as her only release to be herself, and on there she and ochako were mooties :3 neither know that. one time himiko got online for the last time and posted "might not be on for a while, i'm sorry" and dipped. we all have that one old mootie who disappeared, she's ochako's now twice over

no 8. she likes to debate silly things, she sees debate as fun conversation and nothing personal. this has led to a ton of heated argument with the other person storming off and her standing there confused

no 9. she did have a brother, a twin brother, but her family made it nigh impossible for her to keep up with him. shigaraki, spinner, dabi, twice, they all take up the spot in her mind in different ways. she likes to watch shigaraki play games over his shoulder and not say anything till he's about to win- scares him out of his skin. he never lets her play with him though, and that's where spinner comes in. she'll play with him in the mha equivalent to cod and mario cart. dabi's that angsting brother role, and she likes to steal his jacket. he got her one that looked sorta like it, she wore it till it ruined beyond wearing, then dissected a stuffed animal and shoved inside as a keepsake. twice is a brother in the way the two naturally click in conversation, activities, everything. he'd be the twin she never had if she didn't have one

no 10. her twin is neito, the last time they ever spoke was a little interaction in public before he got into UA. she asked him if he wanted to catch up and he- out of fear of what their parents would say- ran. she didn't see him one on one like that ever again

[captainsimagines]

meet me in the afterglow || Halsin BG3 || Part One

Summary: She aided everyone, himself included, and he hated how useless he felt. But if he were to simply open his eyes, he would see that she too was losing her mind.

Pairing(s): Halsin x Durge Drow Tav

Trope(s): Slow Burn; Fantasy; Established Canon Scenes; Male Love Interest POV

Based on the Song(s): Afterglow by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 30,000 +

If you would rather read on AO3, here is the link

This is a single one-shot, split into 2 parts.

Warnings: This story deals with heavy sexual situations, strong language, canon-typical violence, self-harm, fantasy elements, emotional backstories, past memories of necrophilia, the "Dark Urge", "resist dark urge" storylines, past rape/non-con, attempted sexual assault, and minor character death. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This work is strictly 18+ only. This is purely fanfiction.

Author's Note: Look at me, venturing into a new fandom. Well, I've been apart of it since December, but this is my first BG3 fanfic! Don't ask why it's so damn long and why I didn't split it into chapters. Easier this way in terms of posting, lmao. Anyway, it's summer vacation, I've got my teaching credential and Masters degree, and we're writing fanfics again!!!!!!! If you're not typically of this fandom... Hop on this train, you will not regret it. Buy the game. I swear. Love you.

xxMoni

---

The first time Halsin heard Tav scream was during the invasion of the Last Light Inn, when Mol was snatched by a devil and Rolan dodged a blade as he reached to grab her. Tav had climbed the roof in time to see her being flown in the direction of Moonrise, and that was that. It was an angry scream, one that surprised him and Jaheira alike. Since finding Mol’s eyepatch and defeating Ketheric, Tav hadn’t made a sound resembling it. 

Good, he figured. There was no sense in acting reckless when the facts aren’t known, and a level-headed leader would serve the greater good. He had wanted to slip and scream his frustration for years now, but who would that benefit? Halsin found that if he and his companions held it in for just a while longer, then soon they could find peace, harmony, balance—he had to believe that.

For three hundred and fifty years, Halsin explored the minds, souls, and the willing bodies of countless people. He has taken and been taken, suffered and accepted, led and also been led a fool. Besides the shadow curse, there was nothing that truly haunted him to the very marrow of his bones. He was everything an Archdruid was expected to be, and that included being an expert at hiding one’s fear to level the playing field. 

But recently, he’s been haunted by an odd feeling in his stomach. Thaniel and Oliver were healing together, Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, and he and his companions were readying their supplies to take the two-night trip into Baldur’s Gate. There shouldn’t be anything else plaguing his muscles, and especially not his digestion. Not even the bear could truly keep food settled for long. He suspected that as the land healed, he felt it. He felt each vine untangle, each pebble overturn, each sick creature drain and die. He was usually familiar with plant life dying and sprouting anew, but this was something else entirely. It was the undead dying, the sickness shriveling, the living succumbing and promising their return. It was a sickness extinguished, a sickness that apparently needed to pass through him and any other person connected to nature in the surrounding area. 

He excused himself after dinner, and waited for the oddity to start.

Just as he nearly slipped into trance, the flap of his tent smacked him in the face. 

“Now that we’ve healed this land, where are you going to fuck off to?”

He grumbled, opening his eyes to meet those of a seemingly unbothered Tav. 

Halsin had a bit of a crush. A crush on the violent, self-serving narcissist drow who was going to get them all killed before they faced the real threat awaiting them in Baldur’s Gate. Granted, Halsin formed a bit of a crush on most people he encountered, but Tav was different. The feelings had snuck up on him.

Tav often spoke of utilizing the gifts the Dream Visitor had offered them, but he had never seen her actually consume an extra tadpole. Tav loved to fill Astarion’s and Gale’s heads about godhood, about revenge, but Halsin was there when she almost murdered Araj for suggesting Astarion bite her, and even accidentally wandered in on her and Gale watching the stars he had conjured. Hell, she was the first to grant Karlach that long-awaited hug. And when Shadowheart had the chance to prove herself worthy to her dark Lady, something raw flashed in Tav’s eyes. Something that ultimately persuaded Shadowheart differently. 

The only thing Tav had done recently that really pissed Halsin off was recruiting Minthara at Moonrise. What kind of person forgave someone who threatened a whole Grove? A whole civilization? His people.

But that was the thing: Tav was a person willing to forgive. Well, maybe not forgive. Forget, more like.

And he had forgiven her for the murder of Alfira because, Oak Father preserve him, he believed her confusion. Her surprise. Her… urges. Hells, he came close to killing Kahga back at the Emerald Grove. 

“Who says I’m fucking off anywhere else?”

Tav snorted, his curt response certainly something he’d been working on for a while now. He had remained civil with her, polite even. But the way she spoke to him had him questioning his abilities. He had cultivated mountains of patience over his long years, but she was just too good at breaking off pieces. No way she would be able to flatten him, but he worried himself over the prospect. 

“You’re seriously going to follow us to Baldur’s Gate?”

“I am no stranger to the city.”

Tav plopped down beside his bedroll and fiddled with the strap around his arm. He fought hard to keep so much as a twitch from his face. “It’s a shitty place. You’ll probably find one tree. Maybe two.”

“Do you want me to leave your side?”

Her expression held steady. “No. Just wondering what your plans were.”

Despite her attitude, Halsin had no doubts about whether or not Tav wanted him to remain. He never dropped hints about him leaving after the shadow-cursed lands were no more, and he completely expected to make the trip with everyone else. They helped him here, why wouldn’t he help them to the end? 

“Then you’ll have me. I will remain at your side until you have no use for me, or until my body can give no more. You need not worry about sudden disappearances or ill remarks from my end.”

She rolled his words around in her mind, the points of her ears wiggling slightly. “At least now I can see you in city clothes.”

He sat up slightly, his smirk wide. “Have you been fantasizing about what I would look like in such clothing?”

“Armor is a drag. I’ve been fantasizing what everyone would look like in silks and cotton.”

He hummed, settling back down and placing his hands behind his head. She definitely was a weird one. He couldn’t say for certain if she fancied him or not. She had inquired about past lovers, but hadn't pressed further when he mentioned bedding alone. She had joked about feeling lonely at nights and went so far as to wink at him, but she gave those same winks at Wyll. She had even fought to venture into the Shadowfell with him, but that same ferocity rose when she encountered Rolan fighting shadows alone. She was difficult to read, but he had only himself to blame. So occupied by the shadow curse, he had failed to get to know her. Or any of his companions, really. 

“I think I liked dresses before all of this,” she shared, surprising him. 

“What kind?”

She thought about it for a second, honesty in her lilac features. “The revealing kind. Where the lining dipped to my navel and my thighs were out.”

He was no stranger to such clothing. He had indulged in similar attire in his youth. “I imagine you would look beautiful in them.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But I think I also really liked elven armor.”

Halsin’s laugh came out as more of a grumble. “Is your drow armor unsuitable?”

“It doesn’t show off my curves.”

He couldn’t contain his smile. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Her tent was pitched near Astarion’s, so he doubted she was looking to bunk with him tonight. This was her routine every night—check in with everyone, speak for a few minutes, maybe share a bottle of wine, and return to her own bedroll. Except this is the first time since rescuing Thaniel from the Shadowfell that she visited him.  

It was something he had thought about during their long travels. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Did she consider him a burden, only adding to their troubles without the promise of a cure for the damned tadpole? Volo had tried to do what he advised against, and Tav sported a pale blue eye because of it. 

But it looked good on her. Anything blue looked good on her. 

“You’re allowed to hate me, you know.”

He blinked an eye open, studying her vulnerable expression. Besides making questionable decisions and being rude to strangers they encountered, it was not enough to make him despise her. 

“I do not hate so easily.”

“You hate goblins.”

“They threatened my people. People in need.”

She hummed, “Taking in Minthara was like a slap to the face then.”

“There are other things to consider. Such as, you did not risk the grove when you first met her.”

“I killed a tiefling out of pure blindness. In my own camp.”

“And do you regret it?”

“I—I think I do.” She shook her head, as if arguing with her thoughts. “I also really wanted to kill Isobel.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

He sat up and sighed. Tav rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with his closeness. He did his best to slide to the edge of his tent, but his frame wouldn’t allow much distance. “Are you here… to fight with me?”

Tav grumbled under a breath, avoiding his eyes. “Not exactly.”

He nodded, though confusion still weighed him down. “Then tell me how to best speak on this matter.”

“I don’t understand you,” she admitted, scooting to leave his tent. 

They had something in common, then. 

“When you’ve been alive for as long as I have, you come to understand those around you just a little bit more. Speak or don’t speak, I will not draw my blade. I know it is what you crave. You have fought everyone in this camp with your teeth, almost killed Gale when he confided in you about the orb, almost staked Astarion before you allowed him to feed from you. And you held a knife to my face when you rescued me from the goblin camp. If you wanted to kill one of us, you would have done it by now. If you wanted to kill me, you would have tried.”

Tav laughed and crossed her arms. Halsin averted his eyes from her muscles. “Tried,” she drawled.

He smiled again. “You would not succeed.”

“I take that as a challenge.”

“Take it however you’d like,” he said, sighing as he rested his head back onto his bedroll. “Now, will I receive some peace and quiet tonight?”

Tav squinted her eyes, a glint of mischief peeking through her long lashes. “Annoying oaf of a druid.”

“Annoying brat of a drow.”

That made her grin, teeth and all. Then, quieter, honestly, “Maybe all that torture I endured made me forget. Maybe it made me the way I am. Better today, but…”

Gods, he almost forgot. The odd necromancer they had encountered beneath Moonrise. What she said she had done to Tav, over and over, he could not imagine. First to be kidnapped, reduced to a wailing mess, cataloged like meaningless scraps, and pinned back together only to be ripped open again? And still, Tav did not remember. Thank the Gods she didn’t, and that the necromancer’s slices were simply numb visions. But to smell your own blood on a mind flayer pod, to have a vague recollection of betrayal, to walk right back into your prison…

He kept his voice soft, and tried to make his eyes speak better words than what he could currently form. “Do you mean violent?”

Any ounce of wisdom he carried seemed to die in front of her. She made his tongue twist, his mind rattle.

“Perverted.”

He said, forcefully, “You’re not perverted.”

“That’s why I speak with you, Halsin.” Tav opened the tent flap and stepped through. Her smile dropped, and he was no longer granted the privilege of a real one. “You say all the wrong things.”

---

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

“You’ll find I’m exceptionally greedy,” Tav responded, clinking her beer with his wine. Rolan looked to the floor, fumbling as he tried desperately to flirt back. Halsin almost wanted to help the poor wizard, but that would probably do more harm than good.

“Darling, you’ve made the tiefling blush! How sweet!” Astarion observed, flicking his polished nails across his lips.

Tav shrugged a shoulder, then downed her beer in one go. “Don’t sweat it, Rolan! I have that effect on everyone!”

“Oh,” he lamented, his lips turning downward. Almost as suddenly, he corrected himself. Shoulders straightened, Rolan cleared his throat. “I thank you instead for clearing the road to Baldur’s Gate. When you can, make a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. I’ll give you a lovely discount on some scrolls.”

“Gale would certainly—”

“Gale would be appreciative indeed!” their resident wizard cheered, reaching to shake Rolan’s hand. “I plan on doing a little perusing of my own, of course. But any promise of a discount on some scrolls is certainly something I wouldn’t pass up! I say, Rolan! You and I need to speak one-on-one soon.”

Rolan stuttered over a breath. “That—Well, I’ll probably be preoccupied with my apprenticeship. But yes, that would be quite informative.”

“Gale, stop flirting with my favorite wizard. I wanted him in my bed, not yours,” Tav joked, winking at the blushing tiefling. Cal and Lia, listening at the other end of the bar, sputtered through their drinks.

Gale gasped, “Your favorite wizard? My word, how ugly of you, Tav! I thought we had something special.”

“Your—Your bed?” Rolan choked out, his smile growing. Halsin looked to Tav to tell her to cut it out, but what he saw was… authentic. Tav wasn’t joking, nor was she toying with the tiefling. She genuinely wanted to spend a night with him. Their banter had stretched from the grove to these cursed lands and Tav was nothing if not direct with her intentions. 

He and Tav shared banter… So it led Halsin back to his looming questions with no answers. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Was he a burden?

“Offers on the table, Rolan. I don’t ask twice,” she teased, ignoring Astarion’s gag and Gale’s responding chuckle.

“That sounds—” Rolan started, but his attention was pulled by a few of the tiefling children running up behind him. In their flurry of questions, he met Tav’s eye. “Apologies.”

Tav waved a hand and tried her best to smile at the children, who were now pulling at Rolan’s robes. Cal and Lia came to his aid, even going so far as to grab the children around their waists and run in the opposite direction. 

Rolan cleared his throat. “As much as it irks me to admit… I hope our paths cross again in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav let her disappointment show for half a second before turning in the direction of the exit. Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel had claimed Isobel’s old room, while Wyll, Astarion, and Gale claimed the room where Art had been resting. Halsin had already mentioned he wasn’t going to rest tonight so he could help the tieflings pack, but he wondered where Tav was going to sleep. The only other room still standing was currently occupied by Rolan and his siblings, while the tiefling children were bunking with Dammon in the barn.  

Halsin quickly caught up with her, clearing his throat to gain her attention. “You were very forward with the tiefling.”

Tav shrugged, stripping her gloves from her sweaty hands. “We could die tomorrow. Might as well let my true desires show.”

“And that’s what desires you?”

She smirked. “Got something against tieflings? Or is it wizards, Halsin?”

“Not at all what I meant.” 

He followed her quietly until she led them to the lake’s edge, just a few feet away from Dannis and Bex. Tav chucked her shoes off and tore the corset from around her waist. It was a black and red corset she had looted from Minthara’s office back at the goblin camp, but her fellow drow seemed to not recognize it. Since rescuing her, Tav had made it her mission to try and get Minthara to notice. As if to say, I rescued you but I also bested you once before. Though he hardly spoke to the sharp-tongued drow, he understood her avoidance. Minthara had gained alliances in an unlikely place and vowed to fight by their side, an oath as strong as all others, and did not waste her breath on a petty argument. Especially an argument with her narcissistic Underdark kin.

“I meant to say, that I admire that in a person. I have been alive a long time and you so little, and yet you reach for what you want with ropes of experience.”

It was true. Halsin was no stranger to honey on the tongue or the caress of another. Sometimes he forgot that others have not racked up a roster like he had. Though, he wasn’t exactly keeping track. Every lover he had chosen had been sacred, willing, enthusiastic. It was nice to see others indulging, even if he did not feel the call right now. 

The bear hadn’t felt the call for a while now. Even back in the Emerald Grove, his only companion had been his hand. He didn’t know what changed. 

Tav sat down and leaned back on her hands, watching Dannis and Bex as they swayed in each other’s arms. When they had rescued Dannis from Moonrise a few nights ago, Halsin had been witness to their emotional reunion at this very lakeside. With as many people on his mental list of lovers, it would make sense that he had been in love before. But watching them reunite and cry in each other’s arms… Halsin realized he had never felt love in the way one was supposed to. Lust, admiration, respect—those feelings he was familiar with. Feelings that were reciprocated and cherished. This was different, foreign. 

Was he broken? Had the bear truly taken over that aspect of his life so much? Druids became more like their wildshape the more experienced and older they grew, and it wasn’t unheard of that some animal attributes bled into their daily lives. Or their physique. Nature had been his one calling as Archdruid, and though the realization that he had sorely missed out on the connection Dannis and Bex shared plagued his heart, he didn’t regret devoting his life to the Grove.

“I woke up on that nautiloid with absolutely no idea of who I was. I knew my name, and that was it. Along with a burning rage and desire for blood, I strangely felt free. In a way. This is me letting loose. Being the person I feel like I could have been,” Tav explained, her brow furrowing. Dannis and Bex shared a final kiss before retreating into the inn, giving both her and Halsin grateful nods. Tav sighed, “My memories, or the scraps of them at least, are tainted in red. I want new colors, Halsin.”

He sat down beside her, drawing his knees up so he could lay his arms across them. “I always imagined the color of lust as a light purple. When bodies connect in the most intimate of meanings, it is that streak of purple only the sky can mimic. A purple that only occurs in nature.”

“Poetic.”

“I’ll leave the poetry to Wyll.”

She watched the lake sway, now absent of dark creatures at its shore. He wondered if shadow-cursed creatures actually had also thrived underwater, but no one had reported such horrors. He wasn’t ignorant to think that the fish hadn’t shriveled, that the water wasn’t undrinkable, that the echoes of the Underworld hadn’t been waiting for bare feet.  

“I gave you all colors, you know.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Karlach is pink. As much as my blood yearns for the blood of others, I do not like the color red. Karlach is pink because she makes the darkest of places lighter. She makes my days lighter.”

He wouldn’t have assigned her that color, but Tav’s reasoning made sense. Karlach had a lot of blood on her hands, but blood would fade the more one scrubbed. 

“Gale is purple, of course. That damn robe he got abducted in is scorched into my brain,” Tav laughed. “Astarion is a dark blue. When I look at him, oddly enough, I have this intense feeling that his eyes were blue before he was turned. Blue like the sky he’s been cherishing these last few months.”

Halsin would be lying if he said Gale in purple didn’t stir something within him. After acquiring new robes or armor, Halsin always volunteered to dye it. Purple was instinct for Gale, but he had always found himself dying Astarion’s clothing red. Perhaps now he would reconsider.

“Lae’zel is orange,” Halsin added, grinning when Tav clapped her hands and cheered.

“Exactly! She doesn’t touch any other fruit besides those!”

He continued, ignoring the odd jump of his stomach. “Shadowheart is the color white. Her new hairstyle has nothing to do with it. You know, I was nervous when I saw her leaving camp with a dagger tucked away. Glad to know my nerves were unfounded.”

“Black washed her out,” Tav agreed. Her smile faltered as she picked around the dirt absentmindedly. “Black, however, is Minthara’s color. She radiates such… torment. Mentally, that is. As much as she tries to mask it, I can see right through her. And I think she sees right through me. We’re both terrified, and too angry to admit it.”

Terrified. In all the time he had been traveling with his companions, Halsin didn’t stop to think about what would happen if they lost. Tav had created this image of pure leadership, where everything that needed to be solved had a simple solution. Even Lae’zel portrayed as much. He did have moments where Tav’s questionable actions led him to believe someone would die, but not that anyone would kill them. 

“You just admitted it to me.”

Tav grumbled, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. “The Oak Father will have your balls if you utter it to anyone else.”

“Didn’t know he answered to you.” He couldn’t help the blood flushing his cheeks.

“The gods love to hear me whine.” Tav's sarcasm coated her words and eye roll alike. Then quieter, angrier, she said, “I remember screaming for some.”

His chest caved in slightly, a burst of sympathy melting along his ribs. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when he was tied to that bedpost in the Underdark. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the shadow curse prevailed and his fellow Druids didn’t run fast enough. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the last of his family passed and he lowered them into the ground. But ever since, the Gods have answered his prayers. His Drow patrons couldn’t keep their disputes civil and he escaped after three, confusing years. He had sprinted fast enough to avoid the dark tendrils lapping at his paws and was fortunate enough to lead Rethewin’s survivors to safety. He was able to say a final goodbye to his mother. Even now they listened when he was rescued from that horrible goblin camp.

He didn’t quite catch if the Gods had answered any of Tav’s prayers yet since she herself doesn’t remember anything that happened prior, but he had it on good authority that every battle they’ve survived since had been blessed.

“And Wyll?” he asked, his tone softer as he reverted the topic of discussion back to color assignment.

“Green,” she answered quickly. “He reminds me of a park I used to walk around. A distant memory, a broken one. But I see him sitting in that green field, surrounded by wine and grapes and a lanceboard.”

He hadn’t spoken to Wyll all that much yet. Karlach and Gale were the two he found himself conversing with most often. Wyll always spoke of Baldur’s Gate, and though Halsin enjoyed hearing about their companions’ lives beforehand, he found that he did not have kind feelings for Wyll’s father. When he tried to maneuver the conversation away, Wyll always brought it back. 

And it made sense. Just as Halsin was preoccupied with the shadow curse and his role in its creation, so was Wyll and how he would prove to his father that his transformation was for the good of his citizens. Perhaps when his head was clear and his father found acceptance, Halsin would be able to speak to Wyll freely. To speak without thinking about how the city would be better off in Wyll’s hands instead.

Halsin wanted to punch Duke Ravengard in the fucking face. 

“And me?” he asked.

“Guess.”

“I assumed green, to be honest.”

Tav shook her head. She turned to him fully, the lilac of her face bright beneath the moon. For the first time since they had met, she showed him vulnerability. He knew it was killing her to do so. “You’re gold.”

Something foreign fluttered in his chest. “Gold?”

“You shimmer when you wildshape. But also, when you’re standing in the sun, your gray hair shines gold instead. You’re so damn joyful all the time and it reminds me of the sun. You’re sunlight incarnate, Halsin.”

He had been called wise, inspirational, large, and handsome. He had been called ruthless, uncontrollable, wild, and arousing. Never in his three hundred and fifty years had he been compared to sunlight, or directly called it. 

But he was sunlight to her.

She shook her head, a light chuckle beneath her breath. Then she stood and walked back in the direction of Last Light. Slowly, waiting.

“What color am I?”

She shifted her stance. Afraid of her own question, the answer it might bring. The truth of it. Halsin did not see her as a red tone. Far from it. Even her sleek red-orange hair wasn’t enough to classify her. Though red yearned for her, she did not want to claim it. There was a fire behind that fight, a fire that licked higher the more she resisted its call. Even in the midst of battle, drenched in blood, she did not harvest its bounty. Her and Gale were always the quickest to the stream, washing away the brutality. Gale out of pure disgust. Tav out of need. 

“You and I are at odds most of the time. We are two colors that clash, yet find a way to coexist in one setting. You are silver, Tav. The same color as your sword, of the lash of your words, of that fire in your eyes.”

“A silver menace, am I?”

He shrugged, too in his own head to truly argue it. “Silver is also the color of the ripples in water.”

“Ripples are the consequence of a disturbance.”

“They are proof of influence.”

She crossed her arms for warmth. Backing away, she pointed one finger at the sky, her grin nearly obscured by shadow. “And the color of the moon.”

---

The second time Halsin heard Tav scream was in camp a few nights later. A breathless one, but no less bone-rattling. The sound reverberated into his bone marrow, sucking out half and poisoning the rest. His first thought was Mol, that he had to save her this time, that a repeat of the grove was unacceptable and he finally had a chance to make things right. This was a job for the Archdruid. No tiefling would hurt under his watch. 

His second thought was that Tav was dying, and he needed to get up so his silver menace had a fighting chance. 

“Get away from him!”

Halsin woke from his meditation and caught a glimpse of a short, gray creature scurrying into the bushes. The further it retreated, the quicker its laughter came. A sound that scraped against his spine-bones, horribly akin to a goblin’s. 

He looked over his shoulder and watched as Tav held her shaking hands in front of herself. She breathed slowly, shutting her eyes as whatever troubled her began nudging at her once confident composure. 

“Tav?” he said lightly, slowly standing to his full height. In the campfire light, she was beauty incarnate. All her fine features threatened to stop his heart, his senses. And when those senses catapulted themselves into his brain, he saw pure fright on her lovely, scarred face.  

She trembled as she stepped closer to him, gagging on her next words. “Restrain me.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Halsin,” she croaked. She glanced around camp, fidgeting even more as Shadowheart and Astarion poked their heads out from their tents. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to give into these urges if you don’t restrain me. I can’t control it—I’m trying—but I’m going to slaughter you in your sleep and all of your thoughts about me will be true—”

“Calm, Tav. I am awake, I am unharmed.” He took a step closer. “These urges… They are the ones you mentioned when you asked if they were possible effects of the tadpole?”

“Halsin,” she whispered, terror laced within those two syllables. “You piss me off, but I don’t want to kill you.”

That made him chuckle. “I will not let you.”

As quickly as he finished that sentence he saw the glimmer of a blade behind her back. She lurched forward, aiming for his heart. He reacted too late, but not late enough to get stabbed. An arrow whipped between them and lodged in Tav’s shoulder, sending her to the cold ground. Halsin yelled, panic gripping his stomach from the sight of her blood. 

“Wyll, give me the rope,” Astarion ordered, his skin somehow paler. He threw his bow to the side and immediately began tying Tav’s feet together. Wyll held her down by the shoulders, cursing when she managed to twist her neck far enough to bite him.

“What’s happening?” Karlach demanded, running up to the group. Nervous, caring hands burned with panic instead of the usual fury.

Tav thrashed, screaming wildly as Wyll bound her hands. He did his best to lean down and whisper in her ear, his horn smacking her cheek. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this isn’t right, I’m sorry. 

“Dear Gods,” Jaheira breathed. “Not another one.”

Halsin had witnessed Jaheira mid-battle and post-battle. He understood that the older druid put on a face, the same face he perfected when he was at the grove. To be stoic in the face of chaos, of evil, was a necessary talent. But here, Halsin saw the mask fracture as she examined Tav’s mannerisms, her moans, her darkening eyes.

“What does that mean? Speak plainly, Jaheira,” he told her. The jump in his voice surprised him.

She huffed, sliding to Tav’s left side so she could check her pulse. At the same time, Shadowheart casted a calming spell. “I have only met one other who resisted the urges. The call for murder, of blood on the tongue, of death in every orifice of the body.”

Minthara blinked, her brow scrunching. “It cannot be!”

The pure terror lacing Minthara’s exclamation—ice pricked his veins.

“A Bhaalspawn,” Jaheira confirmed. “A tadpole-infected Bhaalspawn, at that.”

“A Bhaalspawn?” Karlach choked, though Halsin swore it was on a laugh. “In our camp? If my parents could see me now! Oh, this would make for the best How was your day? story around the dinner table!”

Gale rubbed at his chest, an awkward sound coming from him before he spoke. “That means Orin knows her from before the tadpole.”

“It means Orin tortured her and planted the tadpole herself, I am sure. When she betrayed me, she spoke of another that I now know was Tav. What she did, how her screams sounded—I was not fully listening as she was making an example out of me as well,” Minthara shared, her tone deadly. It was the most Halsin had ever heard her say in one sitting.

“Why wouldn’t the Emperor say anything?” Wyll cursed, quickly snatching his hand back as Tav tried to bite him again.

“It wasn’t its secret to tell,” Lae’zel said, though there was more hatred in her answer than understanding.

Tav shot forward, headbutting Jaheira and flipping onto her stomach. Just as her teeth nearly plunged into Astarion’s forearm, the vampire smacked an annoyed hand to her forehead. “Ah, ah, ah. We ask before we bite.”

“The spell wanes. Calming her emotions is not possible,” Shadowheart said, gritting her teeth. Jaheira, paying absolutely no mind to the bruise on her forehead, took over for the cleric.

“Hit her over the head with this pan,” Karlach offered, offense painting her face after Gale smacked it from her hands. She went to retrieve it, this time holding it over her head so Gale couldn’t reach it.

“Jaheira and I will stay with her,” Shadowheart spoke, her worry etched deep in the frown lines by her lips. “We will need—”

“My sword is yours,” Lae’zel volunteered, pulling her blade out to lie across her lap. She sat with her back straight, eyes focused. A soldier on guard, disguising her concern for a friend.

Halsin and Wyll carefully flipped Tav onto her back. “Are we absolutely positive this is what afflicts her? Maybe she inhaled some spores from your pack—” he tried to reason with the older druid. 

“Urgh—To taste a druid’s blood would be a carnal delight—to dig his heart out from the depths of his ribs and feast upon the muscle. To mutilate his corpse over and over and over—”

Jaheira’s chuckle was void of humor. “Ignore the wisdom of an old crone, why don’t you?”

“Halsin, are you sure you want to listen to this?” Shadowheart asked.

Yes!—he wanted to scream—he was a healer, it was his duty, he would do it for anyone else.

But something else ate away at him as he watched Tav squirm and suffer, biting at her own cheeks when the absence of his flesh famished her. This felt personal somehow, as if everyone else was merely an obstacle on her way to him. He was her target. 

Yet, he didn’t feel threatened. If he was her target, then so be it. She was the one person his body wouldn’t let him abandon because it knew she wouldn’t abandon him.

Tav choked on her saliva as she yelled, “Your bones would be put to good use inside my—”

“I can handle it,” he announced, the nerves in his shoulders loosening. Karlach and Wyll reluctantly returned to their tents as Halsin settled down beside Jaheira. 

“Come back to us, little one,” he said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I know you are still in there.” 

Tav whimpered, registering his attempt at calming her. Helping her.

“Feel the grass beneath your cheek. The soil wetting your skin. Let the Oak Father tend to your mind. Let nature pull you from this dread. It can take it. You can will it.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

Astarion diverted his gaze, swallowing a gulp of air his body didn’t need. He blinked rapidly before stalking into the trees, Gale trailing close behind.

Tav was his best friend. Devastatingly enough, the one friend here who had not yet claimed their own autonomy. Someone who was being controlled, forced to move and act at the will of another. His spawn blood stole his choice and allowed others to steal bits of his soul. Tav’s tainted blood stole her choice as well, but forced her to steal the souls of others. 

To be at the will of something sinister, to be forced to say and do awful things because something compelled them to… Halsin’s heart clenched at the comparison. But it leaped as it finally understood why Tav and Astarion were attached at the hip. How they could possibly heal each other. 

According to Tav, Halsin said all the wrong things. Maybe Astarion was her one source of truth.

“Do not apologize to me. There is no need.”

“I am sick.”

“You are fighting,” Jaheira clarified.

Tav sobbed, whipping her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart waved a hand, her smile small. “I didn’t feel like sleeping, anyway.”

The hours passed slowly, painfully, until the worst of it cleared. Lae’zel woke Karlach and Wyll to inform them, and Jaheira retreated to the dimly lit fire to regain some strength. Shadowheart sat back and waited, another spell prepared. But Tav sat up with her help, then calmly sent her away. 

It was just the two of them, quiet enough that Halsin could hear the beat of her heart.

She breathed in deeply, her burnt-orange hair falling across her face. She looked so… small. Defeated. Nothing like the fighter she had presented herself to be these past few weeks. Sweat stained her night clothes, yet she dug her toes into the dirt to find a sliver of warmth. 

“They say silver is supposed to keep evil spirits away,” Tav laughed brokenly.

He nodded. “That they do. That it does.”

“And yet, I can still see myself in the mirror.”

Halsin didn’t think she was trying to insult Astarion in the same sentence, but he understood what she was trying to say. A vampire equaled an evil spirit, and thus Astarion couldn’t see himself in mirrors. What plagued Tav was evil no doubt, and yet she was forced to see herself.

“Silver also promotes healing.”

She shook her head. “That’s your job.”

After a long pause, she whispered, “No one can heal from this. He’s in my blood. I am his.”

They didn’t say anything else. 

Tav watched the weakening flames until the sun came up, and Halsin watched her.

---

“Um, excuse me? I can’t find my mum.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Honest to the Gods, Tav could have simply smacked the poor girl and the physical lashing would have been less traumatizing. The young girl visibly recoiled, taking a small step back and almost tripping over her orange cat. Halsin reached out, but she moved further away.

Minthara snickered at Tav’s comment, though she didn’t aid in the verbal beating of the child herself.

“She had these spots all over her face and chest. She went out for some herbs and was supposed to come back already. Said she’d be four days at most. That was a tenday ago, though,” the girl mumbled, Yenna, and played with the loose thread of her sleeve.

“Sounds like your mom’s dead.”

“Tav!” Halsin scolded, something alarmingly bold rising within him. Tav made no indication she was affected by his outburst. Neither did Minthara.

“May I remind you you’re speaking to a child. In the middle of a refugee camp,” Gale said, brushing his hand through the warm air. His tone was lighter than his own, thankfully. The only other time Halsin had seen Rivington so crowded was days after the shadow curse rippled through the land and pushed the first round of refugees in.

“Which makes my observation that much more factual,” Tav stated, boredom polluting her fine face.

Astarion choked out a laugh, resting a delicate hand over his heart. “Oh, darling. I’m sure we can find you another squirrel to kick that doesn’t have opposable thumbs.” 

Tav rolled her eyes. Astarion continued, “You were so quick to shelter poor Arabella. What’s different now?”

“I would die for Arabella. I don’t give a shit about her.”

Yenna, surprisngly, chuckled. Tav snapped her gaze to the girl, raising an eyebrow. 

Halsin cut off their line of sight, stepping in front of Tav. He asked, his tone ghostly like a warning, “Do you give a shit about children?” 

Again, Tav gave nothing away as to whether his threatening aura unnerved her. Instead, she side-stepped him and reengaged the girl. “What uses do you provide?”

“Gods, you’re miraculous,” Astarion swooned.

Yenna straightened, lifting her freckled chin. “I can cook.”

“Gale cooks for us.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Ah!” Gale bent a knee, the crack obvious. “That would be I! Do you know your way around spices?”

Yenna grinned, sticking her chest out as she placed her small fists on her hips. “Mum taught me! Said I could rival the best chefs in Baldur’s Gate someday!”

“It’s settled then! I have a new apprentice.”

Minthara clicked her tongue. “One more mouth to feed.”

Gale gave Yenna a miniature version of their map and showed her where to find their camp. The girl scurried away, calling after her cat. Minthara and Astarion quickly left as well in search of some fashionable day clothes, leaving Halsin to deal with Tav’s attitude. 

The drow watched as Gale engaged in yet another bright conversation with a local, her scowl deepening. Confusion settling in.

“What color does the girl give off?” he asked her, a futile attempt to quiet both her annoyance and his anger. She stayed watching Gale and did not move when he settled right beside her, their shoulders brushing.

“Don’t know yet,” she said. 

He shook his head. Though it didn’t measure close, Halsin was slowly approaching the level of outrage he had felt when confronting Kagha. “You were too harsh.”

Tav hummed, then turned to strut down the hill to buy some fish. Completely insensitive and horribly remiss. “Best show her what to expect from me early on, no?”

She handed the fisherman some coin and waited as he bundled the fish. His stomach grumbled, but it wasn’t enough of an attempt at distracting from the matter at hand. 

“Lay aside your pride for a moment. Show kindness to children, would you?”

“That’s your job. Not mine. I have bigger matters to attend to.”

Whatever happened to the gut-wrenching apology she spewed a few nights before? What happened to the kind soul he saw save the tieflings twice over without question, the soul who defended Astarion every chance possible, the soul that almost regurgitated her breakfast while building the courage to tell Arabella her parents had died? 

“I didn’t think you so ugly.”

He said it before his mind weighed the consequences.

“Oh? Well, I know that’s not true. I have plenty of suitors. I have fucked plenty of people. No complaints.”

A mask just as fitted as Astarion’s, it seemed.

He followed close behind, sneaking a refugee some coin as she traveled the road back to their camp. He called out, but she did not turn to him. 

“Your beauty is not what I am commenting on. You are turning ugly inside, and I do not blame your blood for it. No sane soul deprives a child of food and shelter, even if it’s for one night.”

She shrugged, her hair blowing in the wind.“I am not sane. Don’t you get it, Halsin?” 

He nearly ran into her when she stopped and turned, crossing her arms in defiance. “I am weak, and I will give in to these urges soon enough.”

He snarled. “I didn’t take you as fragile and pathetic.”

Her eyes flickered with something… pained. As if he stung her. Then as quickly as it appeared, it disintegrated into the poisoned pot she stored most of her emotions in.

“Maybe I should have killed you the other night.”

“Strike me with your words all you want. I can take it.”

But it actually did strike him deep for some reason. So badly it nearly made him wince. She laughed, the sound piercing through the air and slicing him in two. 

He didn’t talk to her the whole walk back.

---

“Do you hate me?”

Halsin perked up at Yenna’s small voice. He nearly fell forward with the weight of his head as he forgot he was lounging in wild shape by the campfire. He located Tav and Yenna by the barn, Scratch and the unnamed owlbear running circles around them. 

“Hate is a strong word,” Tav mumbled, the cleaning of her boots uninterrupted as Yenna sat down next to her on the log. She kept a respectable distance, twiddling her thumbs. 

“I seeked someone kind-looking,” Yenna explained.

“I am quite beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that.” To that, Tav did halt her work. She turned to meet Yenna’s eye, the poor girl trembling as she tried to redeem herself. “Wait! I only meant that you looked kind, too.”

Tav straightened, her brow scrunching. “I’ve never been told that.”

“Don’t your friends tell you?”

“They’re not my friends.”

A blatant lie, Halsin thought.

Yenna frowned. “Oh. That’s sad.”

Clearly exasperated, Tav set down her boots. “What do you want, Yenna?”

The girl’s blue eyes widened, a small smile sneaking onto her face. “You know my name.”

“No, shit. I have functioning ears.”

“Well, if you don’t hate me, then why were you so mean to me?”

Tav shrugged, but didn’t pick up her boots. Instead, she leaned back and pulled her long hair into a bun. Yenna watched her, fascinated by the fair highlights in Tav’s hair. Yenna had mentioned to him that her mother kept her hair short out of necessity, that it was easier to steal the essentials without the threat of leaving a strand of hair behind. Now, Halsin bet she would grow it out.  

Tav, the silver ripple in the water. 

“I’m dangerous, kid.”

“There’s a bear in our camp right now.”

“Besides that.”

“And a Sharran—”

“She’s reformed.”

“And a vampire!”

Tav pointed a finger. “The kindest vampire you’ll ever meet, too.”

“How can he be kind, but you are not?” Yenna argued, squinting her bright eyes. Tav met her stare, unfaltering, and in that small moment Halsin recognized Tav’s unmistakable admiration. With Mol, that admiration spawned the moment she foolishly asked for her to steal the idol. For Arabella, it had been when Tav found her parents in the House of Healing—the knowledge that it would crush her spirit, but not her soul. Yenna’s growing confidence in a singular conversation was what was winning her over. 

Tav sighed, angling her gaze to him by the campfire. Halsin quickly feigned sleep. “I almost hurt that bear for fun.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone had to tie me up and hold me down until my mind quieted.”

Shame laced each syllable. Yenna scooted closer to her on the log. “So, you were mean because you didn’t want to hurt me with your hands?”

“I’m surprised I haven’t killed the dog or the owlbear,” Tav muttered, then jutted her chin up, “Or that cat of yours.”

They sat in silence for a good minute, Yenna watching Tav continue to wash her boots and Tav side-eyeing the girl. 

Halsin actually believed he should have been harsher with Tav when they first encountered the girl, but perhaps he failed to see right through her. Tav had aided him always, aided multiple others and merely joked about coin in return. And when Tav had burrowed into his past, with his permission of course, and saw the weight of responsibility he had put on his own shoulders… They saw in each other what others couldn’t: the inescapable need to form such a mountain of righteousness so that it casted a shadow over their countless wrongs. But it was near impossible climbing the height they had measured themselves.

For what Tav had almost done to him, why subject an innocent child to the possibility?  

“Thank you for telling me,” Yenna said, then softly poked Tav’s upper arm. A childish gesture, one that seemed to shock Tav still for a moment. 

Clearing her throat, Tav said, “Just keep your distance from me while I sleep, okay?”

“Where’s your tent?”

“Right next to Astarion’s.”

“Good. Vampires don’t die easily.”

There was a noticeable quirk in Tav’s upper lip, a movement that had Halsin’s stomach swooping and the bear audibly groaning.

“Set up your bedroll near Karlach’s tent. She’s the only one here who is physically capable of stopping me.”

“What about the Githyanki?”

Halsin thought about it for a bit, too. If Tav were to have another uncontrollable episode and she did not provide them warning like last time, who would be able to restrain and who would succumb? Halsin would like to believe his reflexes were spotless, but he had been nicked in battle one too many times already. It was Astarion who watched his back, muttering about what a disposable, yet practical shield he had proven to be. Astarion could definitely outmaneuver Tav on dexterity and flexibility alone. Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart would probably react too late. Jaheria would put up a good fight. Lae’zel and Karlach were the only two Halsin knew could survive the bloodshed.

“Well, she camps far away from us,” Tav said, pointing to the tent closest to the barn’s exit. “Not because she doesn’t like us, but because if there’s ever an attack, she’ll swing first.”

“And she’ll go down first.”

Tav winced. “I think that’s how she shows she cares. It’s the only way she’ll ever let it be known that she’d die for us.”

Oak Father preserve him, he never noticed that before. The bear whined, and Halsin turned his heavy head to try and catch a glimpse of the fighter in her tent.

“I’m not so scared of you anymore,” Yenna declared, smiling brightly. She was missing her left canine. 

Tav hummed, “I’ll make sure to treat you extra poorly in the morning.”

---

“Final question,” the blacksmith said, his voice lowering an octave. “Would you be able to turn your weapon on those closest to you?”

Tav lifted her gaze, irises darkening. “What kind of question is that?”

Halsin made to step forward, but the blacksmith clocked the movement before he fully could. A twisted smile painted his sweaty face. Tav did not balk, nor did she raise a weapon. She merely inspected him, tilting her head to the side as if the angle offered more. 

“It allows me to know just how sharp I should make your blade, how heavy I should make the handle. Should your blade drive through the meat of the one you love most, oh so easily? So easily that the spray of their blood angles directly into your waiting mouth? Should I make the handle light so that when your troubled hands tremble, you are still able to strike true?”

Astarion shook his head as if the words he was hearing were coming from the tadpole itself. He muttered a quiet what the fuck beneath his breath.

“Forgive us,” Halsin interrupted, his face drawn tight. “But we are no longer in need of your services.”

The blacksmith took an audacious step right into Tav’s personal space. Halsin acted quickly, throwing his hands out to push at his armored shoulders. The blacksmith stumbled, but his smile did not falter. 

“You have already tried to steal this family’s breath, have you not? You have imagined what their insides look like, what wonderful necklaces you can wove from each string they offer?”

Halsin growled, his eyes burning gold. “I will savor your own if you do not walk away right now.”

Tav looked up at him, her surprise sincere. As if she truly believed he wouldn’t risk his life for hers. He had told her he would back in his tent in the shadow-cursed lands, promising his ears as well for when her mind needed relief. At this very moment, he would draw his staff and return whatever vile energy the creature before them harbored back to the Oak Father, where his vengeance striked true. Anything for her, for it was the least he could do.

But before anyone could pull a blade, the blacksmith cracked his own neck in a gruesome display of brute strength. His shoulders lifted then popped. His back bent forward, and his feet turned inward. And in a single burst of red, a pale woman stood in his place. Even paler eyes accompanied her vicious aura.

“Blood-kin! You would have this mountain of a servant speak for you?” she laughed, her sultry voice penetrating his chest. It made his heart beat wildly, made the bear cower. “Oh, but I do so enjoy the taste of druid.”

Tav snarled, her fists clenching as she stopped herself from striking a fellow Bhaalspawn. “Orin.”

“Took you long enough,” she judged, wringing out the final cracks of her neck. “It seems my poking and prodding did little to disturb your mind-matter. Or, did it?” 

She winked at Halsin, then circled the two as if they were trapped in a glass box. “Do you not remember who you are? Who we were? What you have done?”

“I remember enough.”

Orin giggled, and swiped a bloody hand across Astarion’s chest. The pale elf stood his ground, but Halsin saw the way his throat bobbed.

“Tell your orc to move aside. My eyes crave the fighter you have become. Though, I much prefer you dripping with innards.” Orin smiled until her red teeth practically took up half her face. A pretty face, Halsin secretly admitted to himself. But there was no lust behind that truth. She looked up at him, taking that same hand that touched Astarion and running it down his own chest. The armor protected him from feeling such grimy fingers, but she pushed and swiveled them the longer he stood still. 

“I can easily step through you,” she threatened, standing on her tip-toes so her foul breath met his nose.

“Step through me, then.”

When the feeling of her slick tongue met his chin, Halsin froze. His stomach dropped a million miles into the Oak Father’s soil, and his nerves splintered one by one. He was back in the Underdark, chained to the most spectacular of bedposts, throwing his head back in shame as the drow matron rode him, as her claws tore across his throat—

Tav gripped Orin by the back of the neck and flung her several feet away. Orin caught herself on an unfinished blade and used it to stand again, paying no mind to the slice in her palm. Her smile held, but a few strands of blond hair broke free from her neatly-kept braid. 

“Have you fucked this one, blood-kin? Have you sucked him dry? Have you come on his thin lips? On his wonder of a cock? Have you killed him, fucked his corpse, and revived him yet?”

“You truly are the bitch of the Gate, aren’t you?” Astarion bit, picking at invisible dirt beneath his fingernails. “Let it be known that if you step through the druid, which I would love to see if I’m being honest, you would have to go through me next. And I am very hard to kill, darling.”

“A challenge! To kill the undead over and over and over again! So many possibilities.”

“Yes, how wonderful. If your bitch-self is able to do that, you would then face the githyanki. And there, you absolute swine, is where you would crumble.”

Tav stepped in front of Halsin, even daring to raise a dagger at her sister. “They are not the only ones who would aid me in your defeat, Orin. I’ve recruited Minthara, and she holds the most brilliant of grudges.”

Orin finally frowned. “Father will see us battle soon enough, Tav. That is the name you chose for yourself all those years ago, no? Oh, wait. Excuse me. The name your mother chose for you.” 

Tav's jaw tightened. 

“How she screamed and whined and begged you not to kill her and your adoptive siblings. How she writhed even as Uncle lifted you from her corpse.”

“I look forward to sinking my teeth into your fucking neck, sister.”

“And I will writhe with the pleasure of it, my dear slaughter-kin.”

Orin disappeared, and Halsin regained feeling in his legs. He reached for Tav, and for the first time since they had met, he took her hand into his own. Her fingers intertwined with his, the size difference settling something dark within him. 

“I can teach you my technique,” Astarion said, his light voice clearing the stale air. “It’s all in the turn of your jaw, see. Then place your canines delicately over the carotid—”

“Tav,” Halsin whispered, squeezing her hand.

“She’s a shapeshifter. A fucking doppleganger. Orin can infiltrate our camp and kill us all.”

Astarion moaned, his worry expertly concealed. “She won’t be able to. We know one another.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “If I repeat it multiple times, maybe I’ll believe it, too.”

“You’re scared?” Tav asked, absent of judgment entirely. Her tone was more sad, if anything.

“She’s terrifying,” Astarion confirmed with a laugh. Then, more seriously, “And she will not touch you.”

Tav shook her head, her grip on Halsin’s hand strong. “I don’t think she’s going to stop coming after us until I accept her duel.”

“Dueling for what exactly?” Lae’zel finally sheathed her sword, but her yellow eyes followed each gust of wind, each insect that flew across her vision, each movement her companions made.

Tav grimaced as she said, shame dripping off the two words, “Bhaal’s chosen.”

Lae’zel straightened. “Is that what you want?”

“You have no opinion on the matter.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Tav pulled her hand from Halsin’s, and he immediately felt the coldness seep through his skin. The action was almost enough to deafen him from Tav’s next announcement. 

“Let’s see what Gortash has to say.”

He scoffed, though he didn’t mean for the sound to signify displeasure. “His opinion is allowed?”

“He knows about Orin. More than me, considering. I should use all the weapons in my arsenal.”

It took everything in him not to outright fight her. Instead, he nodded and immediately regretted it. “You know best, I suppose.”

Her readied insult died as she didn't expect him to fold so easily. She was left looking up at him, studying his eyes for any change. She was fighting herself, fighting something besides her need to battle his every word. 

She cleared her throat, hiding from his gentle stare as she asked, “Could you make me that tea later? The one that’s a little bit spicy.”

He bowed slightly. “Of course.”

“And you—you can share a cup with me, if you want.”

Halsin swore the gold glimmer he possessed dripped along his ribs. “Until later then.”

He watched Tav walk away with Astarion at her side, their arms locked and her head resting on his shoulder. What he would give for that level of closeness with someone—with her, even—instead of people simply using him and vanishing within the month.

“She is strong. We are strong. We will assassinate Orin and leave a trail of blood for her followers to lick clean,” Lae’zel firmly established, her presence doing nothing to quell the sudden emptiness plaguing him. 

“Is it wrong to doubt our abilities?”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue. “Am I to give the old druid wisdom?”

He chuckled, “Advice, more like.”

Ever since embarking on this mission, Halsin questioned his right to give advice at all. The Grove almost fell because he went chasing after the past, he nearly banished Minthara without hearing her plea, and he allowed Mol’s capture because he was too enthralled by a comatose Flaming Fist. Jaheira could take up the mantle of wise druid. He wasn’t worthy of it anyway.

“There is no room for doubt in this fight. We must press on, and worry about the consequences afterwards. Pray that there is an afterwards, that there are consequences.”

He and Lae’zel decided to buy some desserts for the group, wholeheartedly believing that sugar might make everything weighing their shoulders down just a little bit more light.

---

“Tell me about your time in the Underdark, please?”

Halsin never thought he’d bring the topic up ever, especially to a friend. Sometimes there are things best kept hidden away for the risk of all the original emotions carved into his skin bleeding freely again. He had never told anyone, truly. When hinting at it, he kept the story brief. The more serious aspects were always downplayed, and he purposely skipped information so that he didn’t need to reteach himself how to forget.

But as he sat on his bed at the Elfsong with Tav cross-crossed on the floor, sipping the spicy tea he had made, he felt the need to tell her a little more. He had a feeling that she would be able to handle it, and that he would be able to bear the repercussions.

So he told her. Every last detail, down to the smallest he was sure he had forgotten a hundred years ago. But this time he could not smell the drow matron’s perfume, or taste the patron’s poisonous saliva. He couldn’t feel their lingering touch, no, not when Tav held out her empty teacup and softly asked for more. 

“Perhaps that’s why you hated me in the beginning.”

A genuine laugh jumped from his chest. He savored the growing smile on her lovely face. “I have never hated you. Was I skeptical about a female drow saving me from the goblin camp when Minthara camped right upstairs? Yes.”

She smirked, then took a long sip of her filled tea. The events from earlier that day had seemed to evaporate in each sip, and it made him damn near giddy to know it was his tea doing that. 

Tav caught herself before she could lower her gaze, her eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Though it was something plenty of people had uttered before, it still gave him a sense of calmness. Of reassurance. “Once you’ve lived for as long as I have, bad memories begin to turn into something distant. Numb, almost. And with enough time, their past associations change.”

“You’ve… you’ve convinced yourself it didn’t happen?”

No. Triggers existed, but they were rare for him. Orin’s tongue had transported him to that bad place, but Tav’s touch brought him back. “More like I have convinced myself that it was not as bad as I once thought it to be.”

He survived. And though it was entirely non-consensual, he had enjoyed some days. There was shame in that, shame he will carry forever. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You deserved better, Halsin.”

His shoulders fell before he could collect himself. Tav noticed, like she always did. 

“You did what you had to in order to survive, and they met a violent end. A fitting end.”

He actually never found out what became of his captors, but it wasn’t likely they survived a week-long ambush. “I—Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

“The stress of today. Of yesterday. Of what’s to come. It’s really taking its toll.”

She nodded, looking down at her tea. “Don’t tell anybody this, but I’m terrified of what’s to come.”

The pure honesty in her voice… Halsin couldn’t breathe. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me what Shadowheart’s favorite flower is. It’s a night orchid.”

The thought of Orin infiltrating their camp at all was enough to frighten even the bear, so much so that when Halsin attempted to bring him forward, that gold glimmer sparked and faded at his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t the question be about you instead?”

“Shadowheart has only ever told me that. It’s one of the only things she remembers about herself. Orin would never know.”

Smart. He tried to think of something his companions had told him in secret, or something he had told them, but his mind fell blank. It wasn’t that he failed to get to know them properly, but that whenever he would lend an ear, he was simply the first of many. Which, in retrospect, was a proud thing. They were comfortable telling him first, but he did not hold their secrets for long. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me about my mother. If my response isn't that she's doing well, you will know.” He was harboring no secrets of his own, besides the stirring of his heart for the drow sitting in front of him. “Everyone knows I am the last of my line. Orin would know it.”

“And if she takes someone else’s skin?”

“You know your companions well enough, no? It was me you were having difficulty with.”

Tav chuckled, and gulped the last of her tea. Standing, she went to grab his empty cup from his hands. “Thank you for the tea, Halsin.”

And before his mind could attach its wits to his mouth, he softly returned, “Anytime, my heart.”

Tav stilled, the cups rattling against each other as she held them close to her chest. Halsin counted the passing seconds, grappling with his common sense as his mouth formed around invisible words. 

Since joining this merry journey, his wisdom had plummeted to the depths of the Nine Hells. Stupidity flourished in his old, druid soul—

Tav scurried back to him, a dark blush coating her entire face. She planted a quick peck to his cheek, right on his tattoo. 

The gentleness of it lingered until he fell into a deep trance.

---

“Get away from me!”

Halsin startled awake, tripping over the damned sheets of his bed. He had never had blankets before. Or a mattress. Sure, when he shared beds with lovers he rested for a few hours, but he did not indulge in city culture while at the Grove. The only person who had a mattress was Nettie, and only because her back needed the support. 

Halsin wiped at his eyes to find Astarion backing away slowly, finding refuge by Tav’s bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, Tav stirred. She was up in an instant, a dagger pulled from underneath her pillow. 

“How in the Hells did you get in here?” she hissed. Meeting his eye across the room, he understood the signal to wake the others. One by one, as Tav and Astarion attempted to calm his siblings, Halsin shook his companions awake. Lae’zel and Jaheira took to the dark corners, Wyll and Gale spread out but lay low, Shadowheart drank a potion of invisibility, and he, Karlach, and Minthara picked up the heaviest of weapons to stroll straight into the quarrel with. The other vampires stared at them with bright, glowing eyes. Bristling, nearly twitching with each excited breath they took. 

Why didn’t Astarion’s eyes glow? Had the tadpole taken that feature away as well?

Tav succeeded in persuading Leon and Aurelia in seeing the truth behind Cazador’s lies, much to Astarion’s displeasure. He wanted her to lie, to tell them that they could all ascend by killing Cazador together. Halsin’s chest seized as he witnessed the craving of power in Astarion’s demeanor, and as he caught Tav hesitating in her speech. 

One of his siblings saddled closer to Karlach, mindful of the flames, but took a sniff nonetheless. Karlach recoiled. The spawn swallowed, ignoring Karlach’s reaction and Minthara’s glare, all to catch a whiff of his own blood. The spawn’s eyes glowed brighter, their irises vibrating uncontrollably.

The red glow was hunger. 

Astarion was no longer hungry. 

“By the absent Gods, Astarion… I believe you,” Leon said. But Aurelia clutched her stomach and groaned, whispering to Leon about how they couldn’t refuse orders. That Cazador was forcing them to kidnap Astarion, and a deal between them might as well be a joke. Leon pushed his sister behind him as he braced for a fight. Devastation glowed in his eyes, and he muttered a quick apology before he pulled a dagger from his pocket. 

Astarion raised his chin, empathy shown on his face. In his tone. “You can tell Cazador that when I find him, I will tear him limb from limb. I will smile upon his rotten corpse.”

Tav received the first slash. By stepping directly in front of Astarion. The pale elf’s eyes widened as he smelled her blood, her sacrifice. The very concept of mercy seeped from his mind altogether. He cut through his siblings desperately, dodging their blades and spells. 

Shadowheart stuck a blade in the spine of the smallest of the spawn, and fell backwards as they simply disappeared. Called back to their Master. Her blade lay bloody on the rug before it was suddenly picked up by Leon himself. 

And before he could drive it into her throat, Lae’zel burst from the shadows and tackled him. Her roar cracked through Halsin's eardrums, and an equally grating one sounded as she buried her blade deep in his abdomen. Same as his sibling, Leon disappeared from the Elfsong. 

It was pure luck he and his companions outnumbered them. He had just finished shooting an arrow through the shoulder of one aiming for Jaheira’s heart when he heard it. 

A quiet, garbled gasp. 

Tav gripped the dagger’s handle with both hands, leaving it inserted in her stomach. She merely stared at Aurelia. The spawn stared back, her lips trembling and head shaking in disbelief. 

Halsin was behind her in an instant, gripping her hair and swinging her to the floor. The spawn yelped, the last of her siblings infecting their camp. She scrambled backward, whatever she saw in Halsin’s eyes frightening her enough to abandon her own bow. He lifted her and slammed her against the wall, taking pleasure in her groan of pain. 

“Cazador would never let you die here, and yet you drive a blade through my friend’s skin?” he yelled, slamming her again. 

She cried, “Astarion! Please! He ordered us here, he ordered us to kill anyone who stepped in the way! I could not refuse. I could not refuse, I could not refuse, I could not refuse—“

Again and again she repeated it, tears staining her cheeks and drenching her collar. She thrashed, her throat clenching on itself. Again, again, again, again—

“Let her go, Halsin,” Astarion begrudgingly ordered, his bloody daggers limp at his sides. “She cannot disobey.”

“What and let her kill us? Let her take you?” he screamed over his shoulder. 

Minthara stepped forward, observing Aurelia with a sneer. “No,” she drawled. She sunk the broken tip of an arrow in the spawn’s throat. “We merely send her back.”

In a snap, she abandoned her orders for the sake of forced survival, following the rest of her empty-handed siblings. Halsin immediately dashed for Tav, kneeling in front of her to inspect the wound.

“Let me,” he said, his heart pounding.

“No.”

“Tav—“

“I told him I’d protect him and I almost failed tonight. I deserve this.” Still, she did not let go of the blade. The second she pulled, she would bleed out.

Halsin forced himself to breathe normally, shock enveloping his senses. Was that why she got involved with everyone and everything, put herself first in the face of danger, so she could somehow relieve their pain and take the brunt of it? 

“You deserve… pain?” he asked carefully. He had met others who self-harmed before, but he had never treated them directly. Nettie had always taken the lead role in those cases. And perhaps he wasn’t the best person to ask for help either, because his aged brain could only suggest they stop. 

Now, he understood why Tav did it—why she believed she deserved it. And instead of simply telling her to stop, he wanted to heal her from the inside-out so no thoughts like that ever afflicted her again.

“I deserve to be broken and pulled apart all over again, Halsin. I deserve to remember that torture Orin made me suffer.”

She tried to step around him, but Lae’zel’s glare halted her. He caught her arm before she could find an alternate route. 

Her breathing quickened. He loosened his grip, but still managed to tug her closer. To grip the blade’s handle himself. “It is a blessing you do not remember any of it.”

She smiled ruefully, fatigue dimming her eyes. “What do you think my punishment should be? More stabbings?”

“None whatsoever. Now, please let me tend to your wound.”

“If she really wants to break me, all she has to do is give me my memories back,” she laughed, though it was pained. From self-hatred or from the wound, he did not know. “But in her eyes, it would be a gift.”

Without much struggle, he laid her down and wordlessly instructed Wyll to bring fresh water and clean rags. She stared as he worked around the wound first, silent but present. Though no emotion painted her face, Halsin knew he wasn’t being scrutinized. There was something deeper there. Something akin to admiration, something holy. 

When Wyll returned and gripped Tav’s hand as Halsin quickly pulled the blade out, Halsin let his mind settle. He drowned out her cries and worked tirelessly, stitching her insides with magic and muttering sweet words under his breath. He didn’t think she was listening, but he said them just the same. 

“I couldn’t let them take him,” Tav breathed, her eyelids fluttering. “I think I was just as bad as Cazador, and if he had been taken…”

“You must not compare yourself to true evils, my heart. For you are not the person in absent memories, nor the person Orin wants you to be. I have it on good authority that Astarion would agree, and would kill you himself if you even matched Cazador in cruelty. For that, there is hope in your atonement yet.”

Somehow a smile broke through her exhausted face. “You are too nice to me.”

Halsin pulled the bedsheet over her healing stomach. And because she was barely conscious, he found the confidence to say, “Trust me, I am more than what I ever was when I am with you.”

---

“There’s absolutely no way, you little shit.”

Halsin had to blink so Tav’s words were processed fully. The way she spoke to children… At this point in their journey, there was only a sliver of guilt as he admitted he found it sort of funny.

Mol puffed out her chest, fists on her hips and face absent of an eyepatch. “Surprised to see me here? Well, right back at ya! Glad to see ya made it here in one piece!”

Tav listened intently as Mol described what she’d been up to all this time, all the trinkets she acquired roaming the Lower City, her new position in Guild. 

“Get away from my pockets, child,” Jaheira sneered, but there was a hint of pride hidden in her voice. In her slight grin. Something akin to respect. 

“I don’t need your scraps, ya old weirdo! I’ve got Nine-Fingers up my sleeve, a certain devil protecting my hide, and a handsome ol’ wizard slipping me scrolls whenever he can!”

Jaheira was unruffled by her insult, which made Mol even more assured. But the second she met Halsin's stare, a muscle in her jaw jumped, giving her away.

“Tell me you did not make that deal with Raphael, Mol,” Halsin pleaded.

“None of your business, tree-hugger.”

Wyll sighed, closing his eyes. “Raphael may talk sweet, but he’ll cut you quicker than you can beg. Whatever he’s promised, know that it cannot be met without repercussions or consequences. I should know, Mol.”

Tav set a gold chalice back on the wooden crate, leaning over to check out Mol’s jewelry collection instead. “Is that how you escaped Moonrise? And got your eyesight back?”

Her monotone voice confused the small tiefling—Why would two men care more about her situation? But Halsin recognized the trick. No sense of urgency, unlike all the other times she and Mol had met, would get her talking. Wanting to expand on her deal with Raphael just so she could prove that all she’s accomplished so far measured up to the way Tav saw her. 

“What’s the big deal now? I got out, and now I’ve gotta hold up my end.”

“Which is?” Wyll pressed. 

“He gave me a damn eyeball back! The deal could have been a lot worse.”

“Mol,” Halsin grumbled. 

“Thievery is my domain, druid. I’m his little thief.”

Wyll leaned in. “That’s all that was exchanged?”

Mol's nose curled. “Where’s ya head at, ya thick warlock? Of course that’s it!”

Wyll’s shoulders dropped. Halsin had never spoken to Mizora in the time she lounged around the Elfsong. Never asked Wyll to elaborate on their daily check-ins. Never asked about the other missions she had sent him on. Whatever Wyll shared with him, the group, Halsin was grateful for. 

Now he couldn’t stop wondering what his hands would look like wrapped around Mizora’s throat.

And he couldn’t stop the worry from hitting him square in the chest as Tav said her goodbyes. Would they leave Mol to the Guild? To Raphael’s slimy grasp? She and Yenna would probably get along, and Gods knew Yenna needed another girlfriend besides Karlach. 

“Here,” Mol said, handing Tav a pouch of coins and a sealed letter. “I trust you’ll deliver this for me?”

“Stupid assumption.”

Mol rolled her eyes. “Deliver it, will ya? It’s going to your favorite tiefling wiiiiizaaaarrrrd.”

Tav mimicked her voice, flicking the young tiefling off before turning on her heel. 

They can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here… He can’t leave her here.

“Astele would sooner die than harm a child of the Gate,” Jaheira whispered to him. “And the child is smart enough to gain her trust in time.”

“This is no place for a child."

“No, it isn’t,” Jaheira agreed, raising an eyebrow. “But what of Geraldus? He made his choice, and it was an honorable one. I tried to stop him and got put in my place by our resident cub. What of Arabella, wandering alone and told to simply trust the Weave? We let her go, and our hope reigns. What of Mattis and Umi and Bex and Dannis? We cannot save everyone, but we can help them along their path.” 

“Is leaving Mol here helping her?”

Jaheira looked over her shoulder, eyeing Mol as she showed a child around her own age the proper hand movements to reach inside a pocket. “It is acceptance. It is trust. It is the knowledge that we are capable of stepping back when we have to. Mol has proven herself a hundred times over, and this deal with Raphael will only be a lesson. Besides, what hypocrite you are for telling the same devil you would consider his offer about the crown instead of disagreeing immediately?”

Perhaps Jaheira was right. For years, Halsin had put the needs of others on his shoulders regardless of their weight. Unoccupied now, his days felt empty.

Tav was doing the same and it seemed like only he could see the true consequence of it. Everyone else in their camp was occupied with their own predicaments, Jaheira now having to find and stop Minsc, so no one had seen Tav’s height lowering. Without the threat of the shadow curse, he was no longer blind. Though their companions cared for Tav’s wellbeing, they could not see past their own mist. He did not blame them—he was strong enough to help her, nourish her, lift her. By helping Tav, he would help himself.

“Does this change our plans with Raphael?” Wyll asked, worrying his bottom lip. 

“No,” Tav promised. She pushed the doors open and ignored the grumbling from the two guards eyeing her every move. “We kill the bastard, steal the hammer, and make damn sure Mol never finds out.”

Easier said than done.

---

The third time he heard Tav scream was when she delivered the final blow that brutalized Lorroakan’s insides. With her sword lifted high and Karlach’s boot in his neck, Tav sliced open his abdomen and pulled out his large intestine. Wet and red, Tav squeezed, seemingly savoring the squelching noise that bounced off the windows of Ramazith’s Tower. 

And when she moved aside to let Dame Aylin through, Halsin savored the sound of his spine splitting upon her blessed knee. 

They had stopped at Sorcerous Sundries right after seeing Mol, the coin purse all too tempting for Astarion. When they arrived and took immediate note of the bruises scattered across Rolan’s handsome face, Halsin knew they wouldn’t just be dropping off the coin. 

Rolan had done a good job at keeping his composure until the questions began. 

“I can take the beatings. When I mess up a spell, his beatings are a practical way to make me get it right the next time. My track record is impressive—”

“Discipline is to be given with purpose,” Lae’zel had bit, snarling. “Your bruises are scattered. Careless. Smack a soldier’s hand for fumbling their blade, not their cheekbones. Break a child’s fingers for stealing, not puncture their stomachs. Lorroakan is toying with you, tiefling. That is no good teacher.”

And when Rolan confirmed it, Tav’s face had fallen flat. Scarily detached. Lae’zel had a similar reaction, but she nodded her head as if agreeing with the unspoken decision amongst the group. 

Lorroakan would be dead before the sun set. 

Now, Rolan panted as he hurried to their side and examined what was left of his old Master. “He’s really dead. The bastard’s dead.”

Tav looted Lorroakan’s corpse and passed Gale the magical trinkets she would have no use of. 

“And I seem to be out of scrolls,” Tav commented, wiping blood from her forehead. Standing up with a groan, she did her best to give Rolan a true smile. But the fight was tough, so much so that she had spent most of her time throwing healing potions to Karlach, who insisted on being in the middle of it all. “Would the new Master of Ramazith’s Tower kindly sell me some? I’d be willing to pay double.”

Rolan’s eyes watered, but that signature arrogance seeped through as he straightened his shoulders and sketched a bow. Silver menace, Halsin thought. He and Tav were so similar.  

Rolan’s eyes lit up as he remembered, “I promised you a discount.”

Tav waved a bored hand through the air. “You promised Gale a discount.”

Rolan closed his eyes for a second before throwing himself into Tav’s arms, holding her as tightly as his sore arms allowed. Tav stiffened, her cheek squished against Rolan’s hard chest and the top of her head directly beneath his chin. She met Halsin’s eye and found only encouragement. 

She wrapped her arms around the tiefling and squeezed, her eyes closing in comfort. 

“Master Rolan… I quite like the sound of that,” Rolan joked, clearing the sentiment from his throat. “I shall move Cal and Lia in at once!”

“I’m going to need as many wizards in this upcoming fight with the Absolute. I would like my favorite wizard at my side.”

Astarion snickered beside Gale, even going as far as poking his elbow into his ribs. Gale simply waved him off. 

“You will have the full force of Ramazith’s Towers at your service.” Then, softer and sweeter, “Thank you, Tav.”

Tav practically sparkled. Halsin forced himself to look away, only to meet Karlach’s knowing gaze. 

“I’m just sorry I can’t kill him again,” Tav said. “Know that you are always welcome at our camp. That you can always ask for our help with bitchy customers or entitled explorers.”

“And you will always have a room here if you need it.”

---

Halsin found her on the roof of the Elfsong, Lakrissa having whispered the hint when he inquired about Tav’s whereabouts. With a wink and a promise of a drink later, Lakrissa confirmed what he had worried about. People were starting to notice his feelings, his desires… People were starting to see right through him. 

Tav finished tying her hair up when she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It hit him so hard he fumbled over his own feet, a blush crawling up his neck. Tav pretended not to notice, and said nothing as he moved to sit on the cushion beside hers.  

As she looked over the balcony’s edge, watching the birds fly in triangles and the leaves float through the wind, Halsin watched her. Her skin was lighter than Minthara’s, and the pale burn stretching diagonally from the top right of her forehead to her bottom left cheek definitely set them apart. He wondered if she picked up that scar from battle, from her early days as a Bhaalspawn, or from the torture she had endured and forgot at Moonrise. She had never commented on it, nor did anyone bring it up. Yet, Halsin prayed it was a simple story like his own scar, nothing fancy, and that the brutal violence that seemed to follow their heels was altogether absent. 

With her hair up, he was able to outline the scar. Unable to control the desire to run his thumb down the extent of it. But he reeled it in, and sat beside her with his hands in his lap. 

“You know… I at least have an excuse for my violence. Lorroakan was just a bastard,” Tav suddenly shared, a worn chuckle breaking through. “But then again, going off of my logic, Orin has a valid excuse, too.”

“Orin is a different breed.”

Her mouth fell into a frown. “If she would have been kidnapped and infected with a tadpole, you would be sharing your tea with her. Rolan would be thanking her. You would be confiding in her.”

Halsin did not believe that true for one second. Orin was frightening, and the added effect of a tadpole was sure to make her everyone’s worst nightmare. Still, he replied with, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Tav grumbled, unsatisfied. What else could he say? That she got out but her sister didn’t? That she was given a new chance at life and her sister was still wreaking havoc underground? Was he supposed to feel sorry for Orin? 

“I am one God’s chosen,” Tav whispered, then turned to him with a flicker of hope in her mismatched eyes. “But do you think I can pray to another god?”

“Yes.”

“Is your Oak Father free?”

“Silvanus?” he asked, the fluttering of his heart nearly booming in his ears. He wondered if she could hear it, if her own matched his rhythm. “Look at where you sit. You are surrounded by his creations, even if they are muted in this city. The air you breathe, the ground you walk on, the flowers you smell. Silvanus asks for little in return, other than nurture nature, each other, and yourself. If you are worried about whether or not Silvanus will hear your prayers, do not be. He hears them, and does what can be done.”

“I have killed hundreds of people. I have mutilated their corpses, stolen their coin, desecrated their gravesites.”

“Forgiveness is something all gods offer.”

“But do I deserve it?”

No longer a boom, but a crack echoed through his ears. 

“Does Astarion deserve it after all the souls he brought Cazador?” he asked.

“He’s changed,” Tav declares, defensive, “And the gods never answered him.”

“Perhaps his change and his current situation is answer enough.”

Yet another thing that maddened him. Why did no God answer Astarion’s pleas? Why was he discarded, as were his siblings, and forced to endure two-hundred years of pain? Why did Astarion have to change at all to gain recognition? He was split on whether Silvanus would help an undead creature, one who couldn’t even harvest the sun's bounty. Did the Oak Father consider Astarion an undead with a soul in need of saving, or an undead with nothing but a masked scent?

Would the Oak Father consider Tav a soul worth saving after she had stolen the very souls he sprouted? Was change enough for both her and Astarion that he would practice benevolence?

Tav sucked in a deep breath. Shame suddenly etched across her face, as did an unsatisfying flush in her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly around an invisible word. He waited, and offered an encouraging smile.

“I don’t remember kissing anyone who wasn’t dead,” she admitted, her voice wholly dejected. As if this one admission was enough to squander any acceptance from Silvanus. “My memories are vague, of course. But I do remember one man. His heart was beating. I don’t think I ever killed him.”

Halsin had to tread carefully or else the reopening of her wounds could prove dangerous. 

“Did you want to kiss your victims?”

She paused. “I think Orin wanted me to.”

“Do you see Orin in those memories?”

“I see her laughing.”

What in the Hells was their dynamic like? Though not related by blood, Orin had played the role of evil elder sister and Tav the role of evil little one. But had Orin been the most depraved of the two? The most abhorrent and wicked? Was Tav a subject of immorality, but able to control her urges more often? To be a Bhaalspawn and to not resist the urge to maim… Tav’s blood was diluted, while Orin had been pumped full.

If Orin had been kidnapped and infected, Halsin wholeheartedly believed he would have died by her dagger that night, that the Grove would have fallen, that the shadow curse would have never been lifted. 

“She may have ordered me to do that stuff, but I still did it. I killed to honor my father, but kissing them? That was to satisfy Orin. To satisfy something darker than the urge. And when we saw Rolan today… I snapped. All I could see was his unwillingness to adhere to Lorroakan's insane orders. I saw his fear. And if any of my victims had felt that way, then avenging Rolan was as much of an apology as I could ever give them.”

To live a life with the knowledge it wasn’t entirely full, that there was a separate personality all along…

Halsin cleared his throat, shuffling the slightest bit closer to her. She stayed where she was, but marked his movement. “Do you remember anything else about that man you mentioned?”

Tav thought about it for a second. Something curious flashed across her face, but he couldn’t name it. “I—I just remember a gold hand.”

Dragonborn, maybe? He didn’t voice the theory obviously. 

But what he said next surprised him enough that his mouth dried instantly. 

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Tav’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.”

She chuckled, embarrassment evident in how she twiddled her thumbs. Her nails clinked together, the shine of the purple metallic polish sending a shiver down his spine. Oh, how it would feel to receive fresh, consensual scars from her. 

“The Oak Father won’t call it a disgrace?”

“I am positive he won’t,” he assured her. He moved closer, careful to not loom over her. Their knees touched. “I can be your beating heart.”

“And you want this?”

This was the time to be truthful. To bathe in the confidence he had cultivated and perfected by his hundredth year. To admit to her that what he was feeling was something else entirely than what his body had told him to feel for years. “For a long time, if I’m being honest. I go where my heart leads. It would be a lie to say you haven’t surprised me. Encouraged me, astonished me. You are magnificent. A beacon of hope, even if the shimmer is burning you from the inside-out.”

“I don’t want to simply be another notch on your belt.”

“Do not ever reduce yourself as such. My heart does not stir lightly,” he tried to reason, tried to pretend that her words didn’t hurt.

“But that’s what it is, Halsin. I appreciate the gesture, but I respect your place in nature. You are a creature who cannot stay in one place for a long time, and granted I am, too. Though I see myself moving with only one person on my arm, forever. If I ever beat this curse of mine, I want the choice. I want the opportunity. And I want to be someone’s only choice, selfishly.”

“I—”

“I am not asking you to change yourself for me,” she said, her breath quickening. “I know there have been plenty of lovers and there will be plenty more. But I have stolen loves from so many people. I have stolen their opportunities. It does not feel right to indulge, and it doesn’t feel right to indulge with you.”

“Perhaps I mistook our relationship, or rather our… tension, wrongly” he explained, masking his pain.

She let out a frustration moan. “I want you, but only if you’re just mine. And I can’t have you, because that’s not my fate.”

She believed that she did not deserve him. That he was a prize? Halsin couldn’t think of himself as such, nor could he believe that she was punishing herself so. But as he remembered how she stepped right into the path of danger when Astarion’s siblings attacked, how she did not want to be patched up, it finally made sense. 

Atonement. Atonement in the form of punishment. The punishment of loneliness. 

Like Gale, who hid himself away after absorbing the darkest Weave. Having no one to speak to besides Tara, besides letters with his mother. Who tried his hardest to create distance between him and Astarion, but failed when the vampire lured him with nothing but sweet, honeyed words. Like Karlach, who tried her hardest not to sneak away at night to visit Dammon. But with the Elfsong so close to his newest forge, she could not help overstepping her self–inflicted choice. Like Wyll, who made a deal with a devil and accepted exile. Who couldn’t speak the truth and fell into the belief that maybe he wasn’t ever meant to. Who would rather his father hate him from afar than know what he had become.

“What do you believe is your fate?” he asked, perhaps a little too harshly.

“To help all of you. Save Baldur’s Gate. And then die.”

He stood, his muscles straining as he tried to relax. He gripped the balcony’s edge. She did not move from her spot, frozen as she stared and burned through the back of his head.

And like Gale, Tav had chosen to blow up any chance at long-term redemption. Like Karlach, Tav had chosen to burn when it was all over. They had all chosen wrong.

How to prove to them that they were worth everything and more, how to prove that the world was better with them in it? How to prove to Tav that he wasn’t sure he was a wild heart anymore, and that maybe, just maybe, she was the reason. 

Selfish as she was apparently, he wanted to prove that he was ten times worse.

“A single kiss then. I ask nothing more, and expect nothing else in return.”

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow upon her scarred face. The heat was touching her, and oh how he envied it so. “Why?”

He turned, lifting his chin so that all she could see was sincerity. “Because you have been deprived of it. Because you are over a hundred years old and do not remember the caress of another. Because Bhaal has made you desensitized.”

“So, pity then?”

“Because it would be your choice.”

She glanced down at her hands, at the brick beneath her cushion. Whatever quarrel she was having with herself looked tiring. And Gods did he want her to relent. 

“Out of everyone here,” she breathed, “I don’t know why I only want to kiss you.”

His own breath came faster as she stood and walked to him. Placing a hand upon his chest, she caressed the fabric. Curiosity bloomed in her irises, and he let her roam for a minute or so. Let her have the chance at feeling another living being. She rested her palm over his heart, and muttered her count.

“Ten,” she said, closing her eyes, “Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Endless,” he confirmed, reaching up to take that same palm in his hand. Though he recognized the lust in her eyes, he also saw the fear. He was so much taller than her, so much older, and in her opinion, good. But she had forgotten the bloodthirst he had in the goblin camp, the hand he had wrapped around Kagha’s throat, the fact that Isobel had fallen all those years ago because of his blade. If they were comparing their misdeeds, they were equal.

“Whenever you say stop,” he said, leaning down so their lips brushed, “We stop. Okay?”

Tav did her best to nod, but Halsin recognized that dazed movement anywhere. She was floating. 

“Come back to me, little one.”

With that, the glaze in Tav’s eyes disappeared. She leaned forward, pressing further until their lips moved as one. Halsin used a single finger to lift her chin, the kiss slow. He was in no hurry to rush it, no hurry to end what should be their only kiss. This was a transaction of sorts—

Tav wrapped a desperate hand around the back of his neck, pushing her upper body against him. In turn, their kiss deepended. Nearly ravenous, but full of all that bashfulness she had expressed earlier. When was the last time he had participated in such a chaste kiss? In his youth, surely. His past lovers were scattered, none staying around for more than a month. And he was just as guilty when it came to long-term predicaments. The bear roamed, and he answered its call. 

But here, with Tav’s lips molding so beautifully into his own with innocent need, he experienced the combination of love and lust. He wanted to continue kissing her, no matter where it led. He wanted to kiss her tomorrow, no matter the bear’s torment. He wanted to kiss her always, and be all she ever wanted. 

Tav pulled him in deeper, hungry, gaining more confidence as he followed her lead. He didn’t need to teach her anything, it seemed. Whether this was instinct or because she too felt the overwhelming desire to burrow into his skin, Halsin was more than happy to be her practice doll, more than happy to explore all impulses. Good or bad. 

Gods save him, good or bad. 

“Kiss me harder, please,” Tav pleaded, the gravel in her voice causing him to harden. He made sure his hips didn’t meet hers. But she was pushing deeper, stepping forward and neatly entangling their legs together. Halsin backed up, mindful of the balcony’s edge. He sat carefully and let her push herself between his open legs, and at this angle they were practically face to face. Tav kissed him harder, slipping her tongue over his bottom lip. A question. 

He opened his mouth and finally tasted her, groaning lowly. When they arrived at the Gate, their fruit assortment expanded. Here they were able to indulge in more than just apples and oranges. Tav tasted of kiwi and the lemon she squeezed in her morning tea. She tasted of the butter buns he always caught Karlach stealing, of the cinnamon cookies Yenna had tried her hand at baking yesterday. He knew he tasted of that same tea, but Halsin had found himself indulging more in grapes and cinnamon rolls Cher Rover saved specifically for him. Separating from Tav now would be a crime to everything sweet. 

“Halsin,” Tav rasped, her slender hands coming around to cup his scarred cheeks. He kept his own at her waist. “A single kiss.”

“A single kiss,” he repeated, sharing her breath. He dove in for more, their statement ignored and the two unbothered. They could extend this single kiss for hours and technically be right.

She suddenly gasped, stiffening against him. Her face pulled tight.

“Tav?” Halsin tried, worry spiking to the point he tried standing. Tav did not move, her grip on his shoulders too strong. 

Her eyes were watery with sorrow as she opened them. “I had a vision of pushing you off the balcony.”

Halsin held his breath. She made no move to do so. 

A nervous laugh escaped him. “I could just shapeshift into a bird, my heart.”

She waited, her mouth opening and closing awkwardly. The mere absurdity of the situation drew a short laugh from her, her eyes clearing simultaneously. She slid her hands down his neck, then settled them on his chest. Pulling back so their noses brushed, Tav nudged him slightly in question. Halsin nodded, completely basked in the glow of her exploration. Tav traced his curves and grooves, his scars and age marks, starved for touch alone. And when she reached his waistband, he pulled back to ask the same of her. 

She nodded, and he moved his hands up. 

Together they learned the whispers of their fingers and just how long they could hold their breaths. Together they slid their bodies closer, moving against one another to apply the necessary pressure needed to reach that delectable edge. Halsin kept his thick thigh planted between her legs, groaning as Tav rolled her cunt against it, chasing her high at a slow pace. 

Though she was desperate to feel such bliss with a willing partner, she did not rush it. Halsin didn’t want her to either. He would stay up here for hours, learning her likes and dislikes, learning how to properly sketch the length of her body with his tongue. 

“Gently,” he coaxed, bringing a hand up to tangle at the back of her head. He pulled her face from the crook of his sweaty shoulder and held her there, burning their gazes together as she took his order into consideration. She slowed her movements but bent deeper, so much so that her weight alone forced him to swallow down the savageness of the bear. “That’s it. There you go. I want you to learn your body first before you learn mine.”

“Fuck,” Tav rasped, bringing both hands to his head to mimic his grip. Halsin bit his lip to keep from pushing his hips up. She moved faster, no doubt the glow in her stomach at a full frenzy. 

“So beautiful,” he continued, his voice now at the lowest register he’d ever heard. Everything about this felt different—her scent relaxed his very core, her weight fought and won against the weight of his responsibilities, her noises sank deep into his chest and melted along his ribs. In his three-hundred and fifty years, he had never experienced such a connection. He would like to believe that he had been attentive to past lovers, but Tav… He wasn’t even actively providing the pleasure and yet she had destroyed his concept of sex from the inside-out.

“Make yourself come,” Halsin said, tempting her even further by pulling her in for a searing kiss. Tav whined, her hips losing their rhythm—

The hatch opened before Tav reached her climax, paralyzing her against Halsin’s chest. He held her tighter, and shot daggers at their intruder over her trembling shoulder. 

Wyll stood on the ladder wide-eyed, clutching his chest as if the scene before him had prompted heartburn. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he stuttered over his apology. “I can just… go get fresh air in the street.”

As the hatch shut, Tav removed herself from Halsin’s protective grip. He could not stop his body from reaching out for her.

“Tav.”

Backing away on wobbly legs, she did her best at offering a practiced smile. “Goodnight, Halsin.”

Later, when they rescued Minsc and dealt with the aftermath, Tav avoided his eyes and overcompensated with their newest arrival. Loud jokes, prolonged questioning—it made Halsin want to hide away forever, or until his beating heart called another’s name.

---

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tav whispered, though her moan gave her away. Her slender fingers rose along his hips, tugging at his waistband. He had left his shirt behind, embracing the chill of nature. If he was going to bed Tav in the flowerbed near the Elfsong, he would do so with as little clothing in the way. The quicker his flesh met hers, the quicker the fire in his heart would settle. Though, Tav’s panting gave it the oxygen to thrive. Her tongue licked the flames, burning him brightly, to the point he dropped to his knees with all thoughts scorched except one. 

He devoured her, swiping his tongue along her slit and soaking up all she gave. She yelped, her fingers combing through his loose hair. She had taken his braids out one-by-one hours ago, massaging his scalp and whispering sweet-nothings along the sensitive skin of his pointy ears. Now, she gripped and pulled, relishing in the vibrations his groans made against her most intimate flesh. She pulled him in deeper, slapping one hand back against the stone of the building. Their companions could surely hear them—the windows were knocked open. And the thought invaded just as quickly as she came on his eager tongue: Astarion or Shadowheart—Gale—watching from the windowsill and getting themselves off at the same time. Learning from watching Halsin feast, from watching his cock drive into the beautiful woman wailing his name. 

“Halsin,” Tav breathed, pulling him up to stand. He let her use her strength, let her be in charge, guiding him in all places. “Fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t help crying your name. Fuck me and claim me as yours, forever. Come inside me, mark me as yours.”

The bear nearly broke loose, territorial to the highest extremes.

Halsin drove into her slowly, deeply, the squeeze stealing the air in his lungs and threatening to knock him out. She felt divine, like nothing he had ever felt before. He had many lovers, but none had wrapped around him with both sex-crazed madness and lo—

Halsin sucked in a gust of air, shooting upward in his bed. The beds at the Elfsong creaked when one changed position, and he had no doubt he had awakened someone close by. The nearest bunk to his left was Minthara’s, and Astarion to his right. But neither moved to indicate they heard him or scented his obvious arousal. 

Cursing softly, he laid back down and tried to steady the beating of his heart. Tav was far away enough, bunking near Karlach tonight, that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Hear anything. And he prayed the two nearest him wouldn’t hate him for this. 

Halsin reached below the sheets and gripped his hardness, shutting his eyes as that touch alone threatened to make him audible. Slowly he dragged his hand up and down, stopping at the tip to swipe. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker the shame could come and go. 

Tav had not sought him out after their kiss and… heavy-petting session, but he had seen the heat in her eyes. A promise that she had enjoyed their time together, his touch. The memory of that silver fire had him moving his hand faster. He reached to cup his balls with the other, biting his lip as the pleasure at the base of his spine grew. He remembered how her hips moved over his, how her mouth tasted, how her arousal smelled. How he had to keep the bear caged, and that made his grip on her even tighter. But it seemed Tav liked that, liked his roughness, and wanted to deliver the same amount. 

The pleasure built and built, until it finally erupted. Halsin choked on a shout, grinding the side of his face into the pillow. Pulling until he milked himself dry. He lay there panting, eyes shut as the guilt slowly crept along his extremities. 

“Darling, I at least have the good graces to please myself in the comfort of my own tent or in the bathroom.”

Halsin froze, and his stomach rotated when Minthara’s voice answered the vampire.

“Lies, Astarion. You haven’t pleased yourself in weeks. You have the wizard to thank for that.”

Astarion choked on his retort, but said nothing to contradict it.

---

“You’re here. Orin was telling the truth.”

Tav crossed her arms as she glared at Gortash, clicking her tongue when she noticed his eyes wandering. She was wearing thin armor today, tight around the waist and non-restricting around the neck. Halsin had stared for a long while before they had left their rooms, readjusting his trousers when she purposely bent down to grab her weapon of the day. She had winked, lifted her skirts to expose her thigh, and whispered a promise of lifting it higher when they returned. 

Now, as Gortash made a meal of her, it unsettled something greedy in Halsin. He had no right to shield Tav, but there was grime in the villain’s eyes. And he was done convincing himself he would feel this affected with just any lover.

Tav ignored Gortash’s initial surprise, allowing Wyll to take the lead.

“My father, Gortash. Let him go—”

“Oh, but I wasn’t talking to you, Wyll Ravengard,” Gortash snapped, a smile still playing on his pale lips. He gave Wyll an unimpressed once-over, then turned back to Tav. “My favorite little assassin… Tell me, how has the holiday been?”

"I could've done with less cultists, you absolute lunatic."

Wyll held his breath.

“I know it was Orin who kidnapped me from Baldur’s Gate. I want to know why.”

Gortash wasn’t exactly handsome, especially not when he frowned. The action seemed to drag his stress lines further. But he held himself like a man with power, and with power came confidence. 

“By the gods, they weren’t kidding. You truly don’t remember any of it, do you?” he said, huffing a simple laugh, one that scraped the walls of Halsin’s skull. “Why, it was us who orchestrated this grand design in the first place.”

The entire audience hall seemed to freeze as they processed Gortash’s outlandish claim. 

Tav swallowed, her lilac cheeks losing all color. “What?”

He made his way down the stairs, his robes swinging with each powerful stride. Tav stood her ground, but Karlach pointed her long ax at the new Archduke. Halsin inched closer to Tav as well, but he was more mindful of the rattling Steel Watch targeting Karlach.  

Gortash dismissed the metal monstrosity. He stood close enough now that Halsin smelled the city and a hint of rosemary on him. 

“The tadpoles, the brain, opening a Hells gate, the cult, everything. And Orin went and betrayed you, wanting the stones all to herself. Betrayed us.”

“It was… It was me? All of it?”

“Our raid of Mephistopheles’ lair will be spoken about in the Hells for centuries.”

“The crown…” Tav whispered, the memory of its abduction no doubt swimming in her mind. Then guilt clouded her features—for all of it. The infestation, the deaths they caused, Gale’s obsession with Karsus’s forbidden magic. She was spiraling, blaming herself for all it—

“My pretty little mastermind,” Gortash practically purred, raising a hand to gently swipe it down her cheek. Halsin growled, a low glimmer of gold coming off of him. Gortash grinned savagely. “I have tried to keep everything in order in your absence. All the things you entrusted me with.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Karlach screamed, alerting some Flaming Fists. Again, Gortash dismissed them with a simple wave.

“How do you know him?” Karlach inquired further.

Tav turned to the tiefling. “I—”

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Orin really did a number on you, didn’t she? Always a lapdog, she was. Begging to be Bhaal’s chosen ever since she learned how to whine. But she is careless, and too distracted.”

Gods, it made so much sense. The tadpoling center under Moonrise, Orin’s vendetta, Gortash’s odd truce. His chest ached with the need to hold her, to remind her that that wasn’t who she was anymore. She had changed, brought about a change in Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale, Minthara—

Him. 

If he could take her away from all of this, meet her in the afterglow, he would sprint and never look back. She had done so much good these last few months and Gortash’s jealous speech was a threat to her already fragile sanity. 

“You… You worked with strategy. You had a purpose. You were determined. I tolerate Orin, but I liked you.”

He followed Tav’s distressed gaze to the golden glove encasing the purple netherstone. 

The gold hand.

“We worked all through the night, you and I. Perfecting this scheme. When you disappeared, I admit I worried for your safety,” Gortash said, his irises darkening. “I missed you.”

Halsin didn’t have to move—Tav reached for his hand and gripped it tight. Gortash noted their connection, but his smile only grew. A more tame twin of Orin’s, it seemed.

“What was I to you?” Tav insisted. “What were you to me?”

“This cannot be happening,” Karlach cringed, several dramatic gags accompanying her declaration.

Gortash rolled his eyes. “A travesty Orin erased so much. Perhaps I shouldn’t reminisce with your companions present.”

“Tell me what I did.”

Karlach gave an incredulous gasp of protest, but Tav remained adamant. 

“What you did… Enthusiastically, might I add. Seeing you now is overwhelming. The way your lips tasted, how your eyes would roll to the back of your head, your neck bared for me. I heard there is a spawn in your company… Do you give your neck to him? Do you scream for him like you screamed for me?” 

Tav snarled as Karlach exclaimed, “Liar!”

“Do not be a child, Karlach,” Gortash snapped. “Tav and I, two adults, were together even while you were by my side. I’m surprised you never met.”

“A secret,” Tav confirmed, though her statement came out more as a shameful question.

“It saddens me that you don’t remember anything but that. Perhaps we can come to an agreement over this Ravengard business.”

“What did you have in mind?” Wyll chimed in, seemingly unmoved by the revelation. If his relationship was something other with her, Halsin would too disregard Gortash’s claims. Tav’s past sex life was none of his business, neither was it Wyll’s, but the fact Gortash had such a lively role in it… The one living soul Tav remembered touching…

Something dark stirred in the pit of his stomach, its claws begging to rip open its cage and eviscerate his opponent. The bear had disemboweled plenty of enemies, but this one—this one Halsin wanted to tear apart with his bare hands.  

Gortash lowered his voice as he spoke next, enough of a signal that the surrounding Fists turned their heads. 

“I will hand over Duke Ravengard right now with a promise to keep him safe, if…” he trailed off, bowing his head to chuckle. “Listen to me bargaining. How unbecoming of me. I am a dealer, not a trader.”

“Speak plainly, Gortash,” Wyll pushed, the hair-raising tone causing Gortash’s brows to rise.

He turned to Tav. “If you agree to spend the night with me, Ravengard walks freely.”

“No deal.”

They were the first words Halsin had spoken since entering the audience hall. He couldn't give less of a shit for intruding on what was obviously Tav’s decision. 

“Halsin—” she hissed.

Gortash laid an elegant hand over his own chest. “How marvelous! Does he speak for you? Is no your answer, too?”

“It’s a no because I don’t want to touch you.”

“You begged for it before.”

Tav bared her teeth. “I won’t anymore.”

“Wyll? If you’re anything like your father, you’ll have some sense. Your father’s freedom, for her cunt.”

Wyll recoiled, his disgust multiplying as Gortash raised his hand yet again to brush Tav’s cheek. This time, however, Halsin shoved the man away. 

And was promptly held back by two Fists. Thrashing, Halsin fought to keep the bear within.  

“May the gods smite you, Gortash. May this land turn on you in your hour of greatest need,” Wyll threatened, taking the words right out of Halsin’s mouth.

Gortash raised a single brow, unimpressed. “Interesting company you keep nowadays. If you won’t give me what I desperately crave,” he drawled, causing a visible shiver to crawl up Tav’s spine, “then we shall explore other roads.”

“One more word from you and I will kill you.” The Fists were hesitant to grab Karlach, and the look she shot at them severed the idea completely. "And that was a trade, you dumb motherfucker!"

“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this, Karlach. I am on your side. I want nothing more than to save this city and rule side-by-side with Tav here. I am a fair man. And to show you I am a man true to my word, I shall warn you.”

“Threats? Seriously?” Karlach fumed.

“Not from me. By now you’ll have found out that Orin is a shapeshifter. And I warn you that she will strike soon. One of these nights, when you feel safest, she will deceive you.”

“And what do we owe you for this information?” Tav spit, lifting her chin.

Finally, Gortash intertwined his hands behind his back, seemingly aware that Tav was not going to take his absurd deal. Strangely respectful in that sense. 

“Kill Orin, reclaim your birthright, and make an ally of me.”

“Despicable piece of shit.” 

Gortash gestured at the Fists to release him. Halsin remained where he was, and he could have sworn relief flashed across Gortash’s face.  

“Kill Orin, bring me her stone, and I might just prolong the protection of your father, Wyll.” He turned back up the steps, his confidence stitching itself back into his body as it realized the audience was still looking at him. “Think about it, Tav. I am no liar, and my respect for you knows no bounds.”

That night, Tav drank herself to sleep and took residence in one of the booths downstairs. As annoyed as Alan was, he didn’t force her to leave. With the candles blown out, Tav remained curled-up on her side and blissfully unaware of the world around her. Responsibilities that once shackled her were drowned out, reality but a speck on the horizon. 

Halsin covered her with a blanket before retreating to the steps in the far corner. He sat at an angle where he could see her, foregoing sleep, and did not leave until the hangover roused her.

x

Part 2

[riddles-n-games]

So, I wanted to make this as an appreciation post for the fandom. Looking at all the reveals we've gotten in the last few days and seeing how much the world of TIG has expanded so quickly, I've been getting a bit nostalgic.

When I joined this fandom, it was August of 2022, barely a month out from the release date of The Final Gambit, the finale of The Inheritance Games. I found out about TIG at a random bookstore on a road trip and I had immediate interest (the hot tub scene sold me so quick). I was also still somewhat new to Tumblr back then but I wanted to see what the hype was here.

Back then, we were still in the Averyjameson vs Averygrayson era even though I'd say things were cooling down a bit. But, that's not my point. The community was getting ready for this; there were chapter reveals, theories, and oh, it was awesome. I was so happy to be part of it. And some of the people who made it a lively place back then are still here, but unfortunately, some have gone quiet. @averysjameson, @guppyclato, @lesbianator3000, @margolovescoffeeandbooks, and @cherryschaos, thank you for making my days back then. I know you may have moved on, but I thank you for the contribution you made at the time.

The only thing I will not miss is the toxicity that Averyjameson and Averygrayson fans plagued this fandom with and divided us so much. We had a lot back then to still savor, why did we have to do that to sour the tag when this series had so much more to offer than just the romantic subplot? There was a mystery at large and so many other characters to love. We only seemed to agree on hating Emily and the old man. Moving on, let's never do that again and if there is another love triangle, let's try being more mature about it. I know we can. If Gray, Avery, and Jamie moved on, so can we.

When we were told of The Brothers Hawthorne back in October 2022 and given those first chapters for the new book, I was over the moon. We were going to finally see the POVs of two favorites; Grayson and Jameson. I was so excited to see from Jamie's perspective, to get a mystery set in London and for him to solve it with Avery; it was an Averyjameson dream. However, come the actual release of the book and I was honestly so disappointed. I'm not sure why it didn't hit the levels it should have but I already said my piece on that and while I still have some disdain for that story, I look fondly at the parts I did love. And funny enough, I told myself Grayson's story will just have to do only because I was feeling sour over Jameson's plot. But low and behold, I loved it! It was deep, funny, interesting, and held my attention as if I was in TIG all over again and it hit more high notes than Jameson's. I may attribute that to the familial connections we see displayed there but it felt more rewarding and even if JLB still had more for Grayson's development, that didn't mean Jameson had to suffer for it. However, I'm hoping that this story here was a fluke and I'm putting my best foot forward in believing that maybe reading Averyjameson through Avery's POV again in Games Untold will give back that familiar feeling I've been missing for two years. I never said I wouldn't try again.

Now, we've entered a new era and this is a third for me; The Grandest Game and Games Untold. During this period, I met @hathorneheiress, my fanfic bestie, and a lot of my current supporters have been with me since TBH. I thank you very much for sticking with me by liking, reblogging, and commenting on my posts. You make my day in the same way I assume my content makes yours. I haven't said that enough and I don't think it will ever be. I'm happy that we're all still here now and going into this new unknown with our theories, headcanons, new characters, and plots. I'm sure it will be a blast. Thank you for giving me that feeling again these last few days; it felt like being with Avery and the gang, running through the House, finding another clue, waiting in anticipation what it reveals.

I hope that this next series is everything we hope for it to be, a new start for Gray, a chance to bond with the new characters we met in The Brothers Hawthorne, and an opportunity to make it feel like the hay days of the first book. I hope that Games Untold lets us relish that feeling with the original cast, to relive the good old days, to meet up with some old friends we haven't seen in a while, and to have that final hurrah that leaves us on the highest of highs in the best way possible. Maybe it'll make it easier to say goodbye to the ways it used to be and embrace the new storytellers but of course, with the way JLB leaves us hanging with every story she gives, who is to say that'll be it?

Thank you to everyone who makes theories, headcanons, fanfics, fanart, and so many other things that leave us wanting more. Thank you to everyone who showers that content with support in the form of likes, comments, and reblogs. Thank you to everyone who has been here from the beginning, in the middle, and now. You all made this a special place. Thank you to everyone who made this community that way and continue to do so every day. I'm happy to be a small part of that. See you in the next post.

-Mystery Girl's Red String