#win cr die

[soath]

A fact I think many highhorsers (which, love a high horse, love generalizations, love dramatic hyperbole, love a bit of godkilling ambition, do not let me stop you) have underrated is that the gods are not weighing Kill Their Siblings vs Kill Their Children. The “deaths” on menu are wildly different! One is an oblivion, a total absence of being, true death as promised even for a god. Meanwhile the other is fear, yes, and unspeakable pain, but then transmogrification. There’s an afterlife on tap for one group but not the other. If I had to choose between throwing my siblings into the black hole of nothingness that has terrorized us since we first learned what terror was…. or shifting a bunch of our beautiful creations messily from one state of existence to another—

I think I’d make the same choice. It’s not about who’s worth more, it’s that they’re two incomparable types of destruction.

[fluidstatick]

FCG's sacrifice | Critical Role - Bells Hells ep 91

If you've not seen Sam's video on the Crit Role channel, It's Been Awhile, go watch it now. Then come back and watch this again. Then bear with me, I need to talk about this for a bit.

When I saw this the first time I thought it was odd that everyone was crying so much. Laudna's death gave everyone focus, and Molly's was met with solemnity, but few tears. Why did Sam's decision rock the table so much harder this time?

Everyone is crying when FCG decides to sign off. Matt cries harder than we've seen since the C2 signoff. Taliesin hides his face. Liam is visibly crushed, and then snarling with rage, and then numb. Marisha is bargaining, Ashley is protesting, Laura is speechless. At the time I wrote it off as the cast being tired, frustrated by the Otohan battle, disappointed by a rough run of ineffective strategies.

Most of all, I thought Travis' body language and quiet remark were so strange. He's smiling throughout this death scene, eyes sparkling, awed, and he says in a level, sincere voice - "I'm so proud of you." We all know Travis laughs when he's panicking, so I thought he was just enjoying the symmetry of FCG's character arc. But now that we know why the table was so broken up at this, I understand Travis' amazement and pride, too.

Everyone is in tears because they don't know if Sam is going to come back. They don't know if he'll make it. They know they can't make their fear and hurt explicit, because it'll breach Sam's privacy at a very dark and frightening time. But he takes this poetically timed opportunity to allow Bell's Hells to endure. He removes himself narratively, preserves his privacy, and lays a plot point that will allow the others to channel their grief and fear into the game in his absence. Travis sees what this decision does not just for the narrative, but for the health of the brand. That's CEO Travis telling Sam how proud he is. And when FCG bolts for Otohan at a full dash, thinking about Bertrand, and Dorian, and Frida -- That's Sam, squaring up to cancer, thinking of his predecessors in the fight, his comrades in his own battle, and the people who most need him to win.

When Matt said "The stakes are higher than ever", he wasn't talking about Exandria. He was talking about Sam, the table's one of a kind friendship, and the joyful soul of CR. And nobody knew when or how they'd come out the other side.

At the Greek, When Ashton failed his wisdom save against Dominox and it used FCG's voice to accuse them of letting him die, I was thrown a little by Tal's performance. If Ashton failed the wisdom save, why is he so strong in the face of this accusation? But now I see it's Taliesin asking cancer, how dare you try to make us feel guilty while our best friend kicks your ass? How dare you tell us that we've fucked up, when we've all done everything in our power to protect this man that we love?

I didn't like Braius when he debuted. I thought he was too vain, too brash, too pushy. I thought he was a goofy swing and an ill fit for the party. But now, in context with everything we didn't see before, he's perfect. He's a husky-voiced warrior of few words, a jittery fanboy, a wounded jester, a powerful healing force of darkness, a joyful slut with a slit throat, so alive, alive, alive.

I could say so much more but I'm emotionally exhausted. Get your HPV vaccine. If your body needs pelvic exams, get them, every year, no slacking. If your body tells you something is weird, listen to it, and find a doctor who will also listen to it.

If you're reading this, I love you. Go tell someone who needs to know that you love them.

Fuck Cancer.

[juuuulez]

📰 | part nine: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, finally they kiss, enemies with benefits, based on s7 finale, secret relationship except they’re not in a relationship, Carl almost dies.

summary: Alexandria has regained their power, and Carl narrowly escapes death. Finally, your feelings catch up to each other. Season 7 finale.

-> masterlist <-

okay!!!! FINALLY i got this done! this will be our LAST sorta canon chapter, because we all know the tragedy of season 8……so now i’m diverging the story into my own canon ;)

also entering a new phase of the carl and reader relationship..definitely a more exciting one! don’t worry, it’s still slowburn, just a bit more heated!

You were trying your best to ignore Carl, the past couple of days. Maybe you were a tad embarrassed that he’d seen you during a vulnerable moment. There was a part of your brain that still hadn’t accepted it, and knew that being around Carl would only remind you, that you’d receive the brunt of his sympathy.

Sympathy was not what you wanted.

But as always, sooner or later, you wound up within those walls once more.

Tensions were high.

They had weapons, too many of them. This surely wasn’t it, right? The Saviours had been through worse. But these people were like cockroaches, their spirit didn’t die, they kept coming back up and rebelling. You were getting sick of it. Negan was, too.

Everything went sideways when Sasha’s zombified corpse fell out of the coffin. It all ramped up too quickly, and before you knew it, there was gunfire.

It was relatively easy to get under control, yet still, there was always that voice that wondered if this would do it, this is the fight that kills you. It never does, yet you consider it.

A few members of Alexandria are killed in the process. One you take with your metal bat, disarming the man initially, yet his persistence to live claws at your feet, dragging you down onto the concrete. He’d pulled a knife from his sheath, trying to stab you, leaving you to finally crack the bat down onto his skull.

You were a high ticket item, I guess. It’s a surprise nobody else was itching for this chance to end your life.

Eventually, it all dies down. You take a moment to wipe the blood off your hands, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure before stepping back into the chaos.

When you do, a frown fills your features. Not exactly at upset expression, just something pensive.

Carl and Rick, on their knees. You weren’t listening to Negan, likely able to guess what he’s saying. What he wants. God forbid you try to stop it.

In fact, you didn’t want to.

Carl grit his jaw to ignore that urge to get up, to fight, to try to escape. He glared across the grass, practically into your soul. It wasn’t an urge for help, just a pointed look. This is what your family does.

If this was it, if he died, he’d want you to see it. Maybe just to rub it in your face, that he’d died for a noble cause, whilst you’d eventually fall victim to the uprising of Alexandria. At least, that’s how Carl saw it happening.

When the countdown ends, he unconsciously tenses, eyes screwed shut to combat confronting whatever happens next.

Were you really going to do nothing?

And yet it doesn’t happen.

Shiva mauled a nearby Saviour, taking the attention off of him, and back onto the simmering rebellion. Carl recovers quickly from the shock of near death, forced to rejoin the fight, even if his mind is still reeling.

Maybe he thought you were softening up, after that night in the cabin. It had humanised you. This sort of reversed all that.

The gunfire become unruly, and it was clear who was winning. If this was any indication of the future, then the Saviours were at the end of the line, and Carl was more than happy for it.

He’d managed to escape into a narrow alleyway between two houses, hoping to sneak around and get behind the enemy group, take them by surprise.

However, he makes it a few paces down the alley, before crossing into the gravel path behind the buildings. His senses are sharpened, luckily, for within seconds a dense mass is swinging at his head.

Carl narrowly avoids the bat, ducking fast enough that it swings into the house, getting caught in the wooden boards. They splinter around the metal, concaving inwards, rendering it stuck.

“Fuck!” You swear, tugging with all your might to free it, knowing it’s your only weapon. The adrenaline still pumps through your veins, moreso focused on rearming yourself, less on Carl finally standing within your vicinity.

There’s no doubt he’s angry, hence why you need your weapon back, pulling furiously to try and break the wooden confines. It’s too late, because then Carl harshly shoves your shoulder, pushing you away from the trapped baseball bat.

“What the hell was that?” He sneers, finally letting the frustration and fear towards almost dying pour out. “He was going to kill me, and you just watched?”

You roll your eyes, that snarky attitude resurfacing, reverting to this version of yourself that doesn’t care. “He wasn’t, alright? You would’ve been fine.”

The assurance means nothing, for Carl still invades your space, his face practically inches from your own. “Bullshit!” He yells.

In response, you shove him away. It sends the boy stumbling back into the alley, and the second he’s regained his footing, he’s trying to push you against the wall.

It’s almost childish, the way you fight. Pushing and shoving like toddlers, yet with the strength of two teenagers, fueled by years of surviving and adapting and hormones.

You manage to sweep your foot out, tripping Carl up, letting him fall to the ground. Before he can try to get up, which he attempts immediately, you’re pinning him to the ground, planted firmly on his chest.

One hand lands on your neck, almost putting enough pressure to choke you. Carl’s other hand grips your waist, trying to push you off him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He shouts, despite how close you are, “You want me dead, huh? After all that bullshit—“

“Shut up!” You yell, cutting him off, slamming your hand over his mouth. It tastes salty like sweat, and little bits of dirt are pressed into his face, but Carl can’t do much but let it happen.

With him finally silenced, you manage to take a few deep breaths, trying to organise your thoughts. You two glare at eachother, before you slowly remove your hand, lifting it away from him.

“You—“ Carl attempts again, only for your palm to reclaim his face. This time you pinch his cheeks with your pointer and thumb, causing a disgruntled expression to overtake his features, trying again to squirm from your grasp.

“Don’t talk.” You hiss, this time not letting go, just needing him to be quiet whilst you try and explain.

That, and it felt a little good to put him in his place. But you didn’t have time to savour the feeling, for Carl tightens his grip on your neck, forcing you to hurry with the explanation.

“Negan is not going to hurt you,” You try to tell him, speaking slowly and clearly, wanting to get it into his thick skull. “Let alone kill you. Okay?”

The suggestion causes Carl to try and protest, likely having ten billion reasons why he thinks otherwise, but you’re quick to silence him with a firm grip on his jaw. He shoots you an irritated look, yet remains quiet.

“As long as you’re alive, we can control Rick,” You explain, “The second something happens to you, he stops caring. Right now, you’re the only leverage we have. So, Negan bluffs. I mean, c’mon, you really thought he was gonna do that?”

Carl gives no response, maybe because he’s thinking about it. But you give him the benefit of the doubt, loosening your hold on his jaw, yet leaving your hand there. The pair of you are still panting, and Carl struggles to breathe slightly under your weight on his chest. As such, you shift down a little, but still remain atop him.

For some reason, you keep talking. Maybe there is an inkling of regret, a bubbling guilt over just standing and observing whilst Carl confronted potentially imminent death.

“But that doesn’t mean you get ‘t do stupid stuff, yeah? Especially not now. Things are getting messy, and now you’ve all got guns, so.. I dunno, don’t get cocky, because we can still punish you for it.” You ramble on.

Carl stays silent, letting you run your mouth. He’s not really listening. This is the closest you’ve been before, and you’re practically sitting in his lap, knees planted either side of his thighs whilst you hover.

The hand on your waist remains, settled there, feeling the warmth of your body. That white tank you always wear is thin, dirtied from todays fight, and rides up just enough to reveal a slither of your stomach. God, this is so irrational. But right now, you’re looking less like the enemy, and more like a pretty girl.

Somehow, you’re still talking, rambling about how these next few days will be dangerous, and how Carl should watch out for any surprise Saviour visits. How Negan will be trying to catch everybody off guard.

You’re not even looking at him, staring down at the dirt next to you whilst your mind runs. Carl let’s his hand shift downwards from your waist, just a bit, wondering how low it could get before you caught on. Those tight black jeans, clinging to your form, have never been so tempting.

“That, and I don’t think..” You trail off when you notice Carl’s silence, finally becoming a little more aware of your position. He’s barely even paying attention. “Carl.”

His eyes flicker back up to you, from wherever they’d been looking at. You realise that he’s essentially eye-level with your chest, causing you to tug at his jaw, pulling his face up to force his attention back on you.

Neither of you speak, as Carl shifts a little, pushing himself into a sitting position, approaching in on your personal space. You stay put, on edge, trying to decipher what he’s up to. The hand on your waist travels lower, to your hip, whilst Carl’s grip on your neck loosens so he’s simply holding you.

“Carl.” You whisper again, almost as a warning, quickly catching on to what’s happening here. There’s still gunfire outside the alley, people fighting. That, and this is definitely a bad idea.

This isn’t the face of somebody who wants you dead. Carl is looking at you with an certain want in his eyes, and it’s precious and innocent yet dirty at the same time. For a second, you actually just feel like a teenage girl. Smitten.

Shaking your head, you try to look away from his face, his lips, his eyes. “We’re not doing this.” You whisper, and yet, make no attempt to get off him.

He clocks this, more aware than yourself of how much you might actually want this, even if you say otherwise. But he doesn’t make a move, trying to coax you into a position of agreement, like he needs to hear you say it first. “C’mon, just a little bit.” Carl whispers back, and you can feel his breath on your face.

It’s ridiculous that you’ve let it get this far. You try to consider all the consequences, all the reasons this is stupid, but your brain feels all foggy and mushy. It takes the slightest movement and your lips are brushing together.

You pull back before it can even be called a kiss. Just the tiniest bit, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried. Carl doesn’t chase you down. He doesn’t move, allowing you to take the lead, as if trusting that you do want this. And you do.

That’s why you go back again.

This time, your lips actually meet, and it’s hesitant and awkward at first. But it doesn’t take long to find your footing. One hand still holds onto Carl’s jaw, tilting his head back slightly, giving you access to lick into his mouth. The other hand shifts into his hair, thumb brushing against the back of his neck, fingers gently twirling in the brown locks.

They’re soft. You’d thought so.

Carl leans backwards so he’s laying down, letting you properly sit on his lap. His arms are wrapped around you, hands planted firmly on your ass over those tight jeans, tugging you further down into his body.

You’ve never kissed someone like this before. Neither has he. The adrenaline in your veins pumps hard, urging you to claim his mouth as your own, to which Carl eagerly kisses back.

Eventually, you have to pull away for air, resting your forehead against Carl’s. Your lips are red and swollen from the kissing, coated in a sheen of spit, an expression mirrored on his features. Except that after a moment of breathing, Carl begins to grin, which makes your expression sour.

“Don’t.” You grunt, not wanting to hear whatever he has to say.

But Carl shakes his head, the movement small to not disturb your rest against him. “I just think you look pretty from this angle.”

You still roll your eyes, even if the compliment settles it’s way into your heart, making an unfamiliar warmth spread in your chest. The blush on your face must be evident, because Carl moves his hands upwards, settling over your waist and holding you close to him.

“I’ve gotta go. They’re still fighting.” You remind him, voice lowered to a hushed whisper due to the proximity of the situation. It’s weird, being this intimate and private with Carl. The person you hate more than anything.

His grip tightens on you a little more, holding firmly so that Carl can roll over, placing you down on the dirty path, leaning over your form. “Or I could take you hostage.” He suggests, a wicked grin on his face. So cute.

You don’t know if he’s being serious, but you don’t really care. That’s why you’re drawn to him. Because Carl is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to challenge you.

“That’s not happening,” You scoff, “You’re on thin ice, Grimes. Especially if you want this little stunt to repeat itself.”

The suggestion causes Carl to let up, rolling off you and allowing you some space. You sit once more, dusting some of the dirt off your white tank, pulling it back down to cover up your skin.

“So… you’d do it again?” He asks, watching as you stand, a hopeful expression on his face.

You move towards the building, where the bat is still stuck in splintered wood. It only takes one firm yank to pull it free, leaving a sizeable dent in somebody’s house.

So you’re not facing him when you answer, which is potentially a good thing, because you’re definitely blushing. “Maybe. Play your cards right.”

A sharp sound cuts through the commotion. That whistle you’ve grown to love, and Carl has grown to resent. To you, it means safety, someone to stand by. To him, it’s disaster.

Knowing you have to leave, that the Saviours are retreating, Carl backs off. He stands a few paces away from you, preparing for your sudden departure, mentally reminding himself of this unspoken divide between the pair of you.

Yet, you shoot him one more glance, an awkward little smile on your face. “Don’t get yourself killed.” You tell him, it likely being the most sincere string of words you’ve ever expressed to the boy.

He’ll take it.

He’ll take anything, at this point. The price of hatred was worth it, if this were the outcome.

So Carl let’s you leave, where you run back between the houses, deftly sneaking away to reunite with the Saviours before they can take their trucks and leave Alexandria. Sure, he probably should have backed up that hostage comment, but experiencing this again? That wasn’t something he could pass up.

Now was to make sure nobody found out.

[edelgarfield]

god damn it all this Aeor and Calamity lore has me liking Ludinus a lot more than I ever wanted to. I find him so fascinating and compelling as a villain, in the way that he reflects a lot of my favorite characters' flaws particularly from CR2, but CR3 in Bell's Hells at times self-defeating pursuit of power in order to win.

I'm thinking abt a couple quotes from Essek, bc he & Ludinus obviously have so much in common. By Essek's own admission, it was his inability to trust people that made his pursuit of knowledge at the cost of others so appealing, that made him lose sight of the hurt he was causing

In particular the second quote: feeling personally responsible for doing something because of your inability to trust anyone else. I think that encompasses Ludinus's ideology & motivation so well.

The idea of longevity/immortality being a barrier to intimacy is something that gets talked about with respect to elves a lot, and I think Ludinus encompasses that to its logical extreme. Ludinus is one of the last survivors who actually lived on Exandria during the Calamity. Most elves actually fucked off to the Feywild and didn't return until long after the fighting was over. Given Ludinus was a child when Aeor fell, I would assume that means his parents chose to stay on Exandria & he was born afterwards. (Which if that's the case, adds another layer to his resistance against the gods bc he was doomed to live through the war on the surface of Exandria bc of a choice his parents made before he was born.)

All the elves born at the tail end of the Calamity are dead by now, Ludinus lived at least 160ish years of it, and most of the elves born around that time would have been in the Feywild and wouldn't have the experience of seeing what happened to the world. Everyone else who survived the Calamity would have died hundreds of years ago, not to mention that only a third of the population even survived it in the first place. The thing that's saved the PCs (& Essek) time and time again is their bonds with others, having other people to support them & remind them that all the power in the world means nothing if you lose yourself in its pursuit, that there are good things in this world worth living for.

Anyone that might have had the chance to sway Ludinus from his path is long dead, either from the Calamity or old age. Liliana seems to be the only person he feels close to, but they're both bonded through their shared cause. Even other elves, the people with the longest memories, don't understand what living through the Calamity was like. They weren't there.

I know it was mostly a joke when Laudna suggested Ludinus go to therapy, but at the same time where would he go? One of the things that helps PTSD is a sense of community, feeling like there are other people who share your experience, but there isn't anyone that shares Ludinus's experience (Not to mention anything resembling a therapist on Exandria would most likely draw power from a deity, which Ludinus is understandably opposed to).

That sense of isolation is something that comes up again & again among CR PCs. CR2 is the most obvious, but it's something plenty of the CR3 characters have been through as well. Ludinus would have been alone in his trauma for hundreds of years. That's completely incomprehensible to us. He would have watched the world move on and forget something that's so deeply affected him. Any attempt to confide in someone about his anger & pain would often be met with "this is punishment for our hubris" "the gods love us" "don't question their will." The very, very few allies he had would die out over the years until one day he's the last and he would be the last for centuries more. I feel like that sense of isolation, feeling removed from the world, bottling up centuries' worth of emotion would make anyone numb. he withdraws further and further into himself bc he doesn't belong. he works for centuries at removing the gods, becoming more and more desperate as he grows older, without anyone else to provide perspective as his plans grow more and more ruthless. (i also have a theory that this loneliness is part of what makes him sympathetic to predathos but that's a separate post)

Given his age & being the last survivor of the Calamity, I think it's nearly impossible for him to connect with other people. The only thing that gives him any sense of connection or community is his crusade against the gods; he only feels connected to others through their shared pain & anger, which never allow him to move past it. He can't trust anyone bc no one else understands what the gods are capable of like he does, nobody else understands what's at stake. He's the only person remaining who does, which means he's the only one who can do what he believes needs to be done.

There's a sense of duty. He needs to eliminate the gods because he doesn't trust the future inhabitants of Exandria to be able to protect their world. He owes it to all those who've been trampled on by the gods to do what they no longer can. I think he genuinely cares about mortals & he wants to defend them from a threat that he believes only he can see, but I think he cares far more about the thousands of dead he carries on his back than anyone alive. He can't simply live a happy life bc everything that once made his life worth living is gone. He can't let go of that pain & anger and move forward. His trauma is what gives him purpose and meaning; healing from it would be a betrayal to all the people that have suffered beneath the gods.

I don't think he's wrong about the gods, but I think he's seeking freedom from the gods' control, not realizing that he's letting himself be controlled by the dead. I think it's been a very long time since he spared a thought towards actually living. Bell's Hells keeps accusing him of wanting to take the place of the gods, or wanting to be seen as a messiah, but I truly don't think that's it. I don't think he cares about what comes after, if he's even thought about it at all. I don't even think he wants to be a martyr. His goal has never been for him to live in a free world, it's to ensure that there will be a world after he's gone, forever. he thinks if he dies without securing that future, he'll have failed Exandria & all the souls that have ever lived on it.

He's been completely ruthless in his pursuit of power because to him, he is fighting for Exandria's survival. That's exactly the trap BH has fallen into in the past, pursuing power even when it hurts themselves & their friends, losing sight of the actual people they claim to be protecting. Ludinus surrounds himself with terrible people; Otohan and Trent to name two, bc he wants the power they hold without getting his hands dirty himself. but in doing so he immediately removes any possibility of emotional intimacy. the people he works with don't trust him & he doesn't trust them. the one exception is Liliana & unfortunately I think she just met him far too late.

so much of CR is about the importance of feeling connected to other people, how those connections remind us of what's truly important, and keep us grounded, how when we begin to lose sight of ourselves, it's those we're close to that remind us. I think of Caleb & Essek, they both had goals they wanted to pursue, but in finding a place to belong realized those goals wouldn't actually make them happy. Ludinus doesn't want to be happy, he wants to have a purpose, and I know I'm a bleeding heart, but I think there is something incredibly tragic in someone who can't even imagine what it would be like to live a happy life.

I think of Fjord & Percy & Imogen & Laudna & Dorian, people who nearly lost themselves in pursuit of power, but chose to turn away because living for their friends was more important that dying for the world. Ludinus is the pendulum swinging in the other direction. It's incredibly tragic bc imo his intentions are genuinely good; he's arrogant and selfish and ruthless but i think he truly does want to protect Exandria.

I think there was a point in the past where someone could have reached him & he could have chosen a different path. i don't even think he would have necessarily had to give up his goal of removing the gods. if he had other people working alongside him instead of under him, who knows what he could've come up with? if he had people to pass the torch onto once he was gone, maybe he would feel like there was time to come up with a solution besides Predathos.

But he doesn't and he can't trust anyone bc no one else believes in his cause as fervently as he does. he can't trust anyone else to make the sacrifices he's willing to make so he never tries. He denies himself the aid & perspective & closeness that comes with trusting someone and becomes further and further entrenched in his mission to remove the gods at any cost. He's the only one alive left to remember the trauma of the Calamity: he has to carry all of it because no one else can.

[randoimago]

I've seen this really silly dnd character meme where it's a warlock whose patron is their parent 😂. So can I ask for Percy cr campaign 1, Fjord cr campaign 2, Gale and Wyll's baldurs gate 3 reaction to their warlock s/o's patron being their dad?

S/O's Patron is Their Dad

Fandom: Critical Role // Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Percy De Rolo, Fjord Tough, Gale Dekarios, Wyll Ravengard

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): God the chaos that would happen from this. Especially with the Critical Role characters, it'd just be wild.

Percy

He didn't realize that was a possibility. If he was younger, he would've struck as many deals as possible if it meant his family were still with him. Patrons or not. There's just a touch of bitterness from Percy, but his default mode is bitch so you can't really tell.

Percy doesn't really change anything that he does when he learns that your father is your patron. He has questions, sure, but he's not going to suddenly try and win favors. He's sure your father has other things to do than constantly watch over you.

Sorry if kissing is a bit awkward for you, but Percy isn't going to deny himself the taste of your lips just because daddy dearest might be looking in (he'll have some choice words though).

Fjord

Oh he is sweating when he learns that your father is your patron. Does that mean he's always watching? Is Fjord going to be struck down if he even looks at you in a less than platonic way?

Seriously being so polite and stiff with you for a bit after he learns before he remembers all the things you both have already done and the flirtations that passed between you. And then thinking, "Oh hells, did your dad see that?!"

Seriously, you're going to have to be the one to reassure Fjord and talk to him that your dad isn't constantly watching. You get your magic from him, sure, but he's not constantly around so Fjord doesn't have to keep his eyes and hands to himself.

Gale

Well that's an interesting perdicament you're in. Can't help but ask how that happened. Did your parent die and as a way to not leave you alone, they became a patron somehow? Perhaps you're mixed with some Fey or Fiend or Other Worldly being? Maybe it's-

Seriously, he could just go and on with theories as to how that happened. Especially if you have no idea how it happened, he will get to the bottom of this because it's fascinating to him.

If your patron father does pop in at some point, Gale is sure to give a smile and introduce himself and promise that he's taking good care of you. Would probably pout a bit if your dad doesn't like him, but he can summon magic cats so Gale is sure he'll win your dad over yet!

Wyll

He can't help but find some amusement in the situation. Your father is your patron while his father pretty much kicked him out due to his own patron. It's an interesting situation too.

Now and then Wyll does ponder if perhaps you're part something else. Just because most patrons he knows are fey, fiends, or some otherwordly entity. With how happy you make him, he doubts your father could be some kind of devil.

While he can see why having your father as your patron isn't optimal, he would certainly have taken that over his own patron. But he tries not to be bitter and does his best to be a good boyfriend, hoping your father doesn't mind if he shares a few late night dances with you.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[witchamajigit]

Imodna weirdness

Anyone else feeling like the trajectory of Laudna and Imogen is heading into very... unhealthy waters? I know a lot of people will jump down my throat for this but I feel like their relationship might be the first one in CR to fall apart on screen. They seem to be forces ripped in different directions and with this last bit of drama, I think Imogen is really starting to see the cracks.

Laudna is not well and I have very very high doubts of her survival through the campaign. If Laudna wins, will she die without Delilah? If Delilah takes over, how long before someone takes her head off (look at the entire De Rolo bloodline for that one) or even the Bells themselves have to take her out.

The relationship has felt very strained and, forced isn't the right word, but held together with very thin threads. I wonder when enough of those threads will snap to make the whole thing unravel.

Sometimes love isn't enough.

[thecreaturecodex]

Siktempora, Triumph

Image © Paizo Publishing. Accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[The triumph siktempora might be my favorite of that flavor of outsider. Look at how smug he is! What a jerk.]

Siktempora, Triumph CR 14 LN Outsider (extraplanar) This creature resembles a small humanoid with four arms and too many joints in their legs. They wear a robe of gold and various medals and badges. Their face is locked into a triumphant grin, never adjusting or changing expression.

Triumph siktemporas are created on the Dimension of Time as reflections of great emotional satisfaction for a job well done. Anything from winning a war to successfully removing a particularly onerous splinter can theoretically spawn a triumph siktempora. They travel the planes in search of victories, as they see their sense of purpose in always striving to win or die trying. Athletics competitions and pitched battles are natural habitats for a triumph siktempora, but they may also intervene in legal battles or other contests of skill. Triumph siktemporas believe in following the rules of a competition very strictly, and go out of their way to punish cheaters and those who manipulate luck.

A triumph siktempora fights with their fists and feet rather than with teeth or claws or manufactured weapons (although they will engage in weapon duels if challenged). They are fond of combat maneuvers, especially against single targets, and are skilled wrestlers despite their small size. Although their facial expressions rarely change, they can add a thrust of emotional energy to their smug grins that literally harms their opponents psychically. Triumph siktemporas are somewhat disdainful of creatures without naturally rapid healing, like themselves, and often go out of their way to harass anyone healing themselves or others.

A triumph siktempora typically stands about three feet tall, and may be mistaken for halflings or gnomes. They rarely disguise themselves intentionally, unless entering a masquerade or other costume contest.

Triumph Siktempora      CR 14 XP 38,400 LN Small outsider (extraplanar, lawful, siktempora) Init +9; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +25 Aura cheaters never prosper (50 ft., Will DC 23)

Defense AC 29, touch 20, flat-footed 24(+1 size, +1 dodge, +4 Dex, +4 insight, +9 natural) hp 189 (18d10+90); fast healing 15 Fort +16, Ref +15, Will +10 DR 10/good or orichalcum; Immune disease, mind-influencing effects, pain, poison

Offense Speed 60 ft., air walk Melee unarmed strike +27/+22/+17/+12 or +25/+25/+20/+20/+15/+15/+10 (2d6+8) Special Attacks burst of uncanny speed, clinch victory, pugilist training, winning smile Spell-like Abilities CL 14th, concentration +19 Constant—air walk At will—temporal jaunt 1/day—plane shift (self only)

Statistics Str 26, Dex 18, Con 20, Int 19, Wis 19, Cha 21 Base Atk +18; CMB +25 (+27 disarm, grapple, trip); CMD 40 (42 vs. disarm, grapple, trip) Feats Combat Reflexes,Dodge, Improved Disarm, Improved Grapple, Improved Trip, Improved Unarmed Strike (B), Mobility, Power Attack, Step Up, Spring Attack, Whirlwind Attack (B) Skills Acrobatics +21 (+33 when jumping), Climb +29, Diplomacy +23, Heal +22, Intimidate +23, Knowledge (planes) +25, Perception +25, Perform (any one) +26, Sense Motive +25, Swim +29 Languages Aklo (cannot speak); telepathy 300 ft.

Ecology Environment any land (Dimension of Time) Organization solitary, pair or ceremony (3-6) Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Burst of Uncanny Speed (Su) On the first round of combat, a triumph siktempora moves as if it were affected by a haste spell. It can use Whirlwind Attack on this first round of combat as a standard action, making one melee attack or combat maneuver at its highest base attack bonus against each opponent within reach. Cheaters Never Prosper (Su) A creature gaining a luck bonus to any die rolls, or gaining a reroll from luck effects (such as the Luck domain or the fortune hex) within 50 feet of a triumph siktempora must make a DC 23 Will save or be staggered for 1 round. The save DC is Charisma based. Clinch Victory (Su) A triumph siktempora can make an attack of opportunity against any creature taking an action to heal itself, even if that action (like a channel energy or using a wand) does not normally provoke attacks of opportunity. Pugilist Training (Ex) A triumph siktempora gains Improved Unarmed Strike as a bonus feat. It deals damage with its unarmed strikes, and gains access to the flurry of blows ability, as if it were a monk with character levels equal to its Hit Dice. Temporal Jaunt (Sp) As a standard action, a triumph siktempora can vanish into the time stream, reappearing in another location. This ability functions as dimension door (so a typical triumph siktempora can jaunt up to 960 feet), but the siktempora can take other actions that round after reappearing, and the destination must be in a location the siktempora could reach normally by walking. Temporal jaunts are not true teleportation—the siktempora simply travels to a later point in the time stream—so the ability can be used in areas that bar teleportation effects; however, in such areas a siktempora can travel only a distance equal to its speed. Temporal Sense (Ex) A siktempora can sense all the possible futures of the coming seconds. This grants it an insight bonus on its Initiative checks and to its Armor Class equal to its Wisdom bonus (+5 for the typical triumph siktemporas). Winning Smile (Su) As a standard action, a triumph siktempora can flash a smile at an enemy within 15 feet. The creature targeted takes 10d6 points of damage, and all of its attacks deal nonlethal damage against the siktempora for the next round. A successful DC 23 Will save halves the damage and negates the nonlethal damage effect. This is a mind-influencing emotion effect, and the save DC is Charisma based.

[chaotic-goodsir]

Prequel to this because I can't stop thinking about the Kal-Always-Had-The-Fog-Verse. Thank you so much to everyone who liked/reblogged/said nice things in the tags for the previous part!

(CWs for language, violence and injury.)

_

A fist collides with Kal’s jaw, and then he’s on the ground, ears ringing.

‘That’s what you get, witch! Your kind have no place in the Blazing World, let alone in the palace.’

‘Fuck you,’ Kal answers, spitting blood onto the grass. The world spins. Miral leers down at him, triumphant, as though it was Miral himself who dealt the blow and not one of the sullen-faced bodyguards standing just behind him. As if the son of some low-ranking palace minister is important enough to deserve an honour guard. Kal would love to punch the smirk off the smug bastard’s face, if only he could get to his feet without feeling sick.

‘Don’t think we don’t know why you’ve been hanging around the Prince, witch.’ Miral seems to like that word. If he thinks he can hurt Kal with it, he’s wrong. It’s embarrassingly uncreative.

‘What does-‘ Kal coughs. More blood hits the grass, staining it silver. It glitters in the sunlight. ‘-what does Dak have to do with this?’

‘How dare you!’ Miral aims a kick at Kal’s side. Kal just about manages to roll away, and the miss only winds Miral up even more. ‘You don’t deserve to address his highness by name. You don’t deserve to be anywhere near him.’

‘Oh, and you do? Is that what you think?’ Rage burns through Kal, despite the pain in his jaw and the nausea brought on by moving.  ‘Got a little crush on his highness, have you? I guess it must really hurt that he’d rather spend time with someone like me.’

Miral glares. He lifts a hand to usher one of his lackeys forward.

‘Tiir, show this freak of nature exactly what we think of witches.’

The one called Tiir seems to grow even taller as he steps towards Kal, looming over him like 6ft 2 of solid marble in his white college uniform. There’s something of an apology in his eyes, too quickly hidden for Miral to notice. Kal wonders how much Miral’s parents pay the guy to pretend to be their son’s friend.

He could try to back away, could cower and beg like the weakling Miral thinks he is, but he’d rather die than give this asshole the satisfaction of an easy win. Fog is already curling around his wrists – it takes focus to hide it, and he’s not exactly in any state to concentrate right now. Self-defence is as natural as breathing.

Tiir grabs the neck of his shirt with one bulky fist and hauls him to his feet. Kal spares a second to spit blood into Tiir’s face before he lets anger and pain overwhelm him, and the world becomes a grey-tinged blur.

Fog catches Tiir by the ankles. He falls with a yelp and a satisfying thud. Another limb of it sends the second lackey flying. A dark spiral of shadow advances on Miral like a serpent, and Kal is vaguely aware of someone laughing, high and manic and vengeful, as it coils around the minister’s son and lifts him into the air.

Miral howls insults as he struggles against the fog, eyes burning white with Radiance. A wall of light hits Kal in the chest, throwing him backwards. There’s a distant, sickening crack as his left side collides with the ground. The damaged arm disintegrates into fog, and he staggers to his feet again, lashing out towards where Miral is now kneeling in the grass, eyes still blazing.

A second pulse of Radiance crashes into the fog before it can hit its target. A wall erupts between them, a miniature thunderstorm of thick cloud and crackling light.

‘Fucking witch!’ Miral screams over the roar of magic. ‘I’ll kill you!’

Kal tries to scream something back, but half of his face and most of his arm and shoulder are gone now, along with the pain that he is not looking forward to dealing with later. He concentrates on pushing back the Radiance instead, watches the fog that used to be – that is – a part of him twist and roil with fury. It closes in around Miral, steady any unstoppable, and then the crackling Radiance dies all at once, cut off at the source. Miral turns on his heel to run. His bodyguards scramble to their feet and follow, like the obedient little dogs they are.

Only when the three of them are white specks in the distance does Kal let himself stagger back, drawing in the fog again. It hurts, but ways, it was worth it. Behind him, someone is running across the grass, yelling his name in that all-too familiar anxious tone. He just about stays standing long enough for Dakkar to catch him when his legs finally give way.

‘What took you so long, Dak?’ Kal says, grinning. His own voice sounds a million miles away. ‘You missed all the fun.’

[rhaefp]

@MY FAIRY TAIL’S LIFE

"But the truth is… i’m really happy here, i mean… my aura has never been pinker!!" — Ty lee

(I stopped using "desired reality" because it’s not a desire, it’s my reality, my life)

BASICS INFORMATIONS ABOUT ME:

name: Marceline Astara, Brown-Harris (even Lucy didn’t have a long name like that…)

nicknames: marcy, asta, eline

age: 17

birthday: 31th October (767)

sign: ♏️

Guild : Fairy Tail

Guild mark colour: Red

Height: 5’7 (1m70)

Weight: 58kg

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Like: read, make pranks, go on mission, sing, party in the guild, go on shopping to buy magic objects, competitions…

Personality: kind, cheerful, bold, smart, funny and book-worm.

description physics: black hair, brown-red eyes, black skin, skinny, thick eyebrows.

BACKSTORY: My mom died when she gave me birth and my dad died at work, I’ve been placed in a orphanage but get attacked by villains demons and they burned the village, it’s how I discovered my magic: light manipulation. I joined a guild and quit years after and after that I find my own apartment and get a job in journalism, Lucy was coincidentally my neighbour and we were close friends, so I joined Fairy Tail at the same time as her and quit my journalism job.

RELATIONSHIP : I don’t have a s/o yet (but if I’ve to choose I’ll take Gray Fullbuster)

Lucy Heartfilia: she’s my bestfriend and I know her since she moved into her apartment, I immediately became friends with her and I was here when she met Natsu and Happy and it’s how we joined Fairy Tail, later we decided to break the walls between our two apartments and became roommates.

Erza Scarlet: she’s like my older sister, we are close and she talks to me about her problems, I admire her.

(kinda tired to talk about all my relationships)

But I’m in Team A and I shift to the the arc when they presented Jellal and Erza’s backstory.

LIGHT MANIPULATION:

• it’s totally like shadow manipulation but lighter

• empower and energise anything touched or used (usually a weapon) with light

• create bomb/explosion of light

• use light to cut objects

• send out a wave of light that repels everything

• Create and launch sphere of light

• Emit light beams to one’s eyes

• I use light reflection to be invisible

• Idk if I script I’m dragon slayer but I think I will

Limitation: I may require outside source of light to create an attack (my light is weaker the night) but I process to eat light or fire to regain power like Natsu.

(No way I’m winning a fight with that, I don’t have many examples of light’s users 💀😭 but it’s okay I scripted I can’t lose a fight and of course I’m the strongest because it’s not funny if I’m dying every single time 😝 but I follow the plot and the enemies AREN’T JOKING)

TIME RATIO: 1d CR= 1 month DR

— Some details:

I appeared in the Sorcerer Magazine to be the best journalist of the month before I quit.

One day I accidentally walk on Happy’s tail and he didn’t talk to me for 1 weeks

I help Lucy to do her laundry everyday because Natsu always jump into her bed, all sweaty

When a villain is attractive i always tell Lucy, she agree with me and Erza always give us a death stare

When Natsu is asleep in the guild, I draw things on his face and accuse Gray and they always fighting even they know it’s me.

I accidentally had a heart attack one day because Natsu hide below my bed and waited i was in my bed and almost asleep to come out of hiding and yelled at me.

I avoid to walk near to the shore because one day I fell in it when passers-by told me to not walk near because I would fall 💀

The guild is like a family, there are fight but it’s never serious and nobody die or get injured

[cryoculus]

— guard dog 07 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: thoma is quite the interesting character, but your time in the estate made you forget a quintessential truth: this man is anything but your friend.

word count: 4.2k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: allusions to past trauma, nightmares

header art cr: cykedelia on twt

masterlist

Your eyes were heavy the moment you opened them, staring up at the ceiling. Beads of sweat slid across the sides of your face as you forcibly tamed the thundering in your heart. 

Not real, you reminded yourself. They’re not real. 

You let out a shuddering sigh, tossing the covers off you before sitting upright. The attendants’ quarters was still dark, and the rest of your roommates were sound asleep. Even Ayame, who was considerably a light sleeper, laid quietly in the futon beside yours. It’s a miracle how she’s yet to complain about these bouts of insomnia that have been plaguing you for the past few days. You liked to think that’s her way of showing discretion—even if only a little.

The walk to the kitchen was quiet as always. None of the guards on the graveyard shift entered the mansion—never leaving their posts, as they should. But that meant you had no one to distract yourself with in a conversation either. Which was completely fine, though.

You didn’t really know how to explain why you’d always sob on the kitchen floor at this hour.

The polished wood underneath you was cold against your legs, but you paid it no mind as you buried your face into your palms. Your eyes stung. Your lungs burned. You couldn’t breathe. But even if there was a glass of water sitting on the counter; even if you knew one sip could make you feel more at ease, you let yourself choke on your sobs just a bit longer.

You lowered your hands, fingers trembling as you pictured each digit coated in blood. 

The first night this happened, you scrubbed them down in the kitchen sink until your skin felt raw to the touch. But no matter how much you tried to wash the non-existent blood off your hands, the specters of your sins remained. Like a ball and chain you’re forced to carry for the rest of your days. 

What happened to you?

You were one of Inazuma’s greatest mercenaries. A swordswoman who didn’t forge deeper connections with other people, because connections entail vulnerability, and vulnerability was what got people killed.  

Yet here you were, a pathetic mess on the cold, cold floor in the house of the woman you should’ve taken out a month ago. 

You let yourself get caught. Let them domesticate you into someone you’re not. They treated a cold-blooded murderer like one of their own as if you were above biting the hand that feeds you. As if you couldn’t massacre every single person in this estate if you so wished.

…But that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

Even without guards hovering around her, Ayaka could protect herself from any sort of danger. And it was evident in how long you’ve been stalling this assignment that your own conviction to see through the Tenryou Commission’s request was beginning to dwindle. You started thinking about the aftermath. About how the Yashiro Commission would take the loss of their Lady. About how you’ll never forgive yourself if someone like Ayaka had to die by your hand.

And then there was your chance meeting with Kujou Sara. 

No amount of money is worth the lives of thousands.

Those weren’t the words of someone who would exhaust all means to win a war. But even so… 

You’d already taken the job. Even if she hadn’t been the one to issue your orders, like you were first led to believe, you were going to do it. It was just as you’ve told Thoma that day in Konda Village. You never backed out of jobs out of guilt. 

Being a mercenary was all you’ve ever known. It made you who you are. If you couldn’t even stand by your own identity, then you were as good as dead either way.

“Hm? What are you doing here?”

The sound of a familiar voice piercing through the silence of the night had you scrambling back to your feet—wiping the salty tears off your face with the base of your palms.

You cleared your throat as you faced the newcomer. “I was just getting myself a drink.”

Thoma crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway with an unconvinced look. Tonight, he’d forgone his usual armor and jacket—donned with nothing but a loose black kimono. You startled even more when you realized the chief retainer wasn’t wearing his headband either. He’d even let his blond hair—that’s always tied loosely at his nape—cascade freely across his shoulders. You swallowed the lump in your throat a bit begrudgingly. 

 So this was what he looked like after hours.

“You don’t seem to have touched your water yet though,” Thoma pointed out, eyes flickering to the glass on the counter. “Something on your mind?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” you mumbled, grabbing your drink before gulping it all down. The tight coil in your chest seemed to loosen even just a bit, but the chief retainer’s stern gaze wasn’t exactly letting you relax just yet. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I woke up at random and decided to make the trip here.”

“What, so fate just happened to lead you here at the same time I’m getting a glass of water?”

“You’d be surprised with how things like fate operate in the sidelines, Miss Kira.” The chief retainer smiled before turning back. “Wait here. I have something for you.”

The next moment, you heard his footsteps receding out in the halls, leaving you at a loss as to what he was up to. You knew better than to linger here longer than you should, but Thoma had already walked in on you at your weakest. There’s simply no way that you could go any lower than that, so you might as well stick around and see things unfold.

When he returned, you couldn’t help but gawk at the familiar plush toy in his grasp.

“Here,” Thoma said, dropping Mister Danuki into your hands. “The late Lady Kamisato taught us that things you find comfort in can keep the night terrors at bay.”

How did he…?

You shook your head, attempting to give it back, but the firm look on his face made you think that he won’t budge as easily as you’d like him to. “I’m not even attached to this thing. What makes you think the dreams are just going to vanish if I sleep next to it?”

“It’s ‘Mister Danuki’, not ‘this thing’,” Thoma chided. “And he’s going to be guarding you from all those nasty nightmares from here on out.”

“But he’s yours.”

“Then think of it as a loan. When you’re comfortable enough again, you can give Mister Danuki back so you don’t have to act like you’re receiving a gift you don’t even want.” A gentle smile grazed the chief retainer’s face—one that incited a wave of warmth rippling in your chest. 

You shot him a perplexed stare as you fit your fingers around Mister Danuki’s waist. His perpetually stitched smile was all sorts of unnerving. You wondered why kids liked toys like this so much. 

But when you climbed back into your futon that night, you laid the plush right next to your head. When you closed your eyes, you couldn’t see Mister Danuki’s strange, cartoonish features. Instead, the scent of fresh aralia trees layered with a hint of musk filled your senses. It lulled you into a dream not about the blood you could never wash off your fingers.

But of a green-eyed man with a smile that’s brighter than the sun. 

The next morning, you waited until the last of the attendants had come out of the room before getting up. You rolled your futon, tucked it against the wall, before heading to your locker with Mister Danuki cradled safely in your arms. 

It was beginning to gain more and more clutter as the weeks passed. Ayaka had given you another set of kimonos, and you’d placed them atop the others she’d gifted previously. Giving retainers a few gifts wasn’t rare for her, it seemed. But apart from the proof of her generosity, the fox mask Thoma had bought you in the festival laid undisturbed next to them. You hadn’t really found an opportunity to wear it again, so it’s been stashed away here all this time. 

You sighed, fighting the smile that’s forcing its way onto your face as you placed Mister Danuki inside your locker of trinkets—silently hoping you’ll get to fill it with even more clutter soon enough.

Something was amiss the moment you’d joined the others for chores.

All around you, you could have sworn the attendants were glaring daggers your way. It’s a feeling you’re quite familiar with, given your line of work. But having to endure the weight of hostile stares from the Yashiro Commission’s retainers was something that you wouldn’t dare admit unnerved you.

Hina and her friends didn’t bother greeting you good morning like usual when you passed by them in the gardens. They’d been in the middle of a casual conversation, but the moment you graced them with your presence, they huddled away—voices hushed as they threw you patronizing glances every few seconds across the courtyard. 

You planned to accept their invitation for drinks, but… 

The guards weren’t as friendly as you remembered either. Each time you got close to the entrance of the estate, Hirano barked about ‘knowing your boundaries’ when you were simply shaping the topiaries like Madarame had assigned earlier. 

But you didn’t have it in you to ask him why he was suddenly acting so stingy.

Lunch was even more terrible. When they’d invited the attendants to eat ahead of the guards, instead of the regular servings of today’s dish, you were given a plateful of last night’s leftover scraps. You scowled as the day’s server walked away like she hadn’t literally given you a bunch of chicken bones and rotting vegetables. But despite the obvious animosity in the gesture, no one even batted an eyelash your way.

You stood up from your seat, marching away from the pavilion with the intention of heading straight outside.

Of course, Hirano wasn’t going to make that easy for you. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“For a walk,” you replied with the same passive-aggressive undertone. “From what I know, I’m free to go anywhere I want to go now.”

“That’s only if you’re working under direct orders from Master Thoma or the Commissioner,” Hirano scoffed. “I don’t suppose someone like you has been saddled with an important assignment as of late?”

“Actually, I did give her orders to meet me at Chinju Forest earlier.”

Ever your savior, Thoma slung an arm around Hirano’s shoulder as the guard sputtered with his words. “M-Master Thoma! My apologies. I didn’t think—”

“No need to explain yourself.” The chief retainer grinned, but there was no mirth to be seen on his face. “Come on, Miss Kira. We’re burning daylight, yes?” 

You had no earthly clue as to where Thoma even came from. Madarame informed that Ayaka and Thoma left for Ritou with the Commissioner to discuss border control restrictions with the Kanjou Commission. What was he even doing here?

Thoma was quiet the entire stroll into the forest, letting you lead the way as he tailed you from a set distance. Unlike the previous night, he was back in his old uniform again—looking like an unassuming retainer as always. Nothing but the sound of a distant waterfall filled the silence, and you figured that asking him why he wasn’t with Ayaka was going to end up being fruitless in the end.

“What are you looking for exactly?”

You glanced at him wearily, surprised that he’d even spoken. “How’d you know I was looking for something?”

“You look like you’re itching to get your hands on that something,” he pointed out. “And you seem a bit worse for wear yourself. Did Mister Danuki fail to keep the nightmares at bay, hm?”

…You didn’t want to tell him that sleeping with the stupid toy actually worked. You had more pride than that. But you also weren’t keen on informing Thoma about the way the rest of the Kamisato retainers started treating you. You never belonged in that estate anyways, and they must have thought that you’ve long overstayed your welcome. 

(It’s not like you were deluded enough to think you could play house any longer…)

You elected not to answer altogether, focusing on mapping your way around the winding paths until you’ve come across a dilapidated shrine at the edge of the woods.

“Do you have a shovel with you?” you mumbled.

Thoma frowned. “Why would I have a shovel with me?” 

…He had a point. 

Sighing, you sank to your knees as you began digging through the soft earth with your bare hands. The soil wormed its way into your fingernails, and you might have cut yourself on a couple of sharp stones in the process. But you didn’t pay that much heed. 

Thoma was right. You were itching to get your hands on something. That something being the sword that kept you alive in more ways than one all these years. 

You didn’t bother opening your bag once you’d made a deep enough hole to reach what little belongings you had. You weren’t even cautious of the fact that you’d just revealed your little hiding place to Thoma, of all people. All you could think about was the surge of calm that flooded your veins as you gripped the hilt of your sword. You unsheathed it without a second thought, and the blade gleamed despite the scarce light. 

Thoma whistled. “That’s a beautiful sword you got there.”

You nodded silently, fingers gliding over the flat of the blade as you marveled at the sight of it. 

Then, you pointed the impossibly sharp tip in Thoma’s direction. 

“Spar with me,” you proposed. “If you want me to stop looking ‘worse for wear’, you’ll spar with me.”

You expected him to look at you the same way Hina and the others did in the gardens earlier—eyes almost burning with hatred. But…Thoma never did.

Instead, his lips cracked into an expectant smile—thrusting out his hand as a Kitain spear materialized out of thin air and into his grasp. These damn Vision-wielders… 

“Alright,” he humored you, twirling his weapon around with practiced ease. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you though.”

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With all the back-to-back nightmares you’d suffered through the entire week, you completely forgot about the plans you made with Thoma a few days prior.

After your impromptu duel (which you would always argue ended in a draw even if Thoma managed to disarm you), the chief retainer decided to make good on his promise to treat you to three pints of beer. He knew a place in Ritou Harbor that sold only the best brews, and was wholly intent on letting you in on the experience.

“Aren’t milady and the Commissioner at the Hiiragi estate though?” you wondered, settling down in one of the tables as Thoma sat in front of you. “Won’t you get into deep shit if they discover you horsing around at an izakaya?”

He laughed, going over the wooden menu with a casual air to his gaze. Like he’d already surveyed its contents a handful of times in the past. “You forget that I’m also a well-established fixer here. Humoring clients in a place as comfortable as this is in my job description.”

“So I’m a client now.”

“Of course not.” Thoma winked. “You’re here as…an esteemed guest. Kind of.”

“...For some reason, I’m not liking the sound of that.”

“You will once you finally get a taste of their prized drinks and dishes,” he chuckled before calling one of the servers to your table.

It was nearing dusk by the time you and Thoma had called it quits at Chinju Forest. So when the two of you were served with two bowls of donburi, you couldn’t help but wolf it down in one fell swoop. You’d already skipped out on lunch for obvious reasons, so you weren’t sure if the food here was as good as he said they were or you were just too starved to be particular about what you ate. 

But before you could remove some grains of rice on your face, you noticed that Thoma hadn’t touched his food, and was instead resting his chin on top of his palm as he watched you intently. 

“Quit staring at me,” you grumbled self-consciously as you flicked off the grains. “It’s weird. Even for you.”

To his credit, Thoma did pick up his chopsticks and started eating his food like a normal person. But he absolutely, positively did not stop staring. It was only when the famous beer he wouldn’t shut up about arrived that you could finally take off the edge.

“Ugh, you weren’t kidding,” you sighed, wiping off the froth bubbles on your lip with a napkin. “This is some good stuff.”

“You want to know their secret ingredient?” Thoma asked, retrieving his own mug from the tray as he lightly bumped it with yours. “Though you might find the information a bit unsettling.”

You shrugged, taking another swig. “I’ve consumed worse.”

“Dendrobiums.” 

A pause. You stared at the drink in your hand, noting that the beer inside had a more vibrant tinge than what you’re used to. “...You mean the flowers we give to the dead?” 

Thoma nodded. “They’re said to bloom in a battlefield that has seen much bloodshed. With that in mind, don’t you think it’s a little grotesque that the shop serves dendrobium beer?” 

“A lot of people think it’s grotesque for one to kill people for a living, but no one’s pestering me about it so…” 

Thoma nodded slowly, gloved fingers tracing the rim of his mug. “So that’s your answer…”

“Was I supposed to respond in another way, Master Thoma?” 

“Not at all,” he insisted with a smile. “Now since we’re here tonight as drinking buddies, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

You scowled at him. “You’re not serious.”

“I am. And I’m already treating you tonight, so the least you could do is humor me a little.” He pouted. “Come on, let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” 

Green. That’s the first word that flickered in your mind when you met his eyes. You gulped down a mouthful of dendrobium beer to wash out those strange thoughts.

“All colors are beautiful,” you rasped. “What’s your favorite plant?” 

“Plant not flower?” Thoma laughed.

“Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, finishing the rest of his drink. You shot him another grimace as you stared at your own mug. You weren’t even halfway through yours… “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there’s something called a fluorescent fungus that only grows in Tsurumi Island.”

You blinked. “So you like mushrooms?” 

“They’re fascinating, okay? Especially when they start to glow at night,” Thoma reasoned. “What’s your favorite food?” 

“I’m not one to be picky.”

“You already avoided my first question, come on.”

“Alright, alright!” You sighed, reaching out to munch on the lotus crisps the servers had left. “I guess your katsu wasn’t too bad…”

Before he could take advantage of any leeways to tease, you added, “Why are we even asking about favorites?”

“Alright,” he said, obviously playing along. “What chore do you hate the most?”

“Laundry. How old were you when you were adopted by the Kamisatos?”

“Fifteen. How old were you when you first killed a man?”

“...Fifteen. Where are you originally from?”

“Mondstadt. Why are you so hell-bent on murdering milady?”

“I already answered that earlier. I was paid for the job. Why are you so hell-bent on trying to convince me to give it up?”

“Because I know you deserve better.”

White noise rang in your ears as your rapid back-and-forth came to a screeching halt. All that's left of your beer were the froth bubbles at the bottom of the mug, and you wondered if you heard him right.

Thoma sighed, lacing his fingers together on the table. “When we were sparring earlier, I felt it. You swung your sword with the intent to defeat me, yes. But every time we exchanged blows, I couldn’t help but notice how tired you were.”

“You think?” you laughed humorlessly. “With all the nightmares I’ve—”

“But those nightmares aren’t the only thing that’s bothering you, am I right?” He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his broad chest. “You’re confused. You don’t really know if you want to see your assignment until the end or if you should just ditch your employer and live with us for good.”

“Thoma,” you warned. “Drop it.”

The chief retainer shook his head. “Miss Kira, I have another question. If you would be so kind as to answer.”

“Why did you kill Doctor Suzuki Naoko?”

All it took were those few, exact words to light the fuse.

You remembered how the doctor bled out on the floor of his home after he’d asked you to slay him with the same sword you used to spar with Thoma. Remembered the glassy look in his eyes as blood streamed from his sockets. You couldn’t do it yourself. You couldn’t kill the man who’d taught you the value of a single human life. 

…But you didn’t help him either. 

You knew he brewed more batches of that supplement of his. The one that made the nightmares go away, and stopped the nosebleeds before they could even begin. You also knew that it was potent enough to save a patient on the brink of death. All you had to do was directly inject it into their bloodstream. 

But instead of scrambling for one of his syringes, you could only watch in silent terror—frozen in place as the curse of the Tatarigami took another person dear to your heart. 

“I didn’t kill him…”

You hated how your voice cracked. Hated how the endless void in your chest had seemingly grown twice in size—intent on devouring you whole. Your vision was blurry, tears welling at your lashes until they landed in fat drops on the low table before you.

“I didn’t kill him, but I might as well have…”

Thoma had an unreadable look on his face. “Let me take a wild guess. I’m assuming that for some godforsaken reason, Doctor Suzuki became infected by the Tatarigami. And you watched him die right in front of you.”

“Shut up…”

“You grieved. You mourned. But you didn’t know how to come to terms with your own inaction,” the blond sighed, gazing at you almost pitifully. “That’s why you took your sword and decided to carry out what the doctor wanted you to do in his last moments. Killing others as a way to cope with loss is a madman’s logic, but you were young and traumatized. No one would blame you.”

“Thoma, shut up. Please…” 

“But what would he think if he saw you now?” He shook his head, reaching out for a lotus chip as he stared at it in fascination. “The young apprentice he’d adopted. The one to whom he passed some of his medicinal arts—having a blatant disregard for the very same lives you used to preserve—”

The table rattled as you pounded your fists on the surface, startling Thoma out of his seemingly practiced spiel. He gazed at you with wide eyes as you felt the hot tears racing down your cheeks. 

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed, uncaring that the other patrons will definitely hear you. “You don’t get to talk like you know what I feel. You’ve had it easy all this time. You have Ayaka and everyone else in the Yashiro Commission. Me? I have no one, Thoma. Fucking no one!”

Your throat felt like it was closing up, mouth seemingly filled with cotton. A dry sob tore its way out of your lips as you dug your nails into your hair. You couldn’t breathe again. The darkness was closing in on every direction again.

You were alone again.

“Thoma, I think that’s enough.”

You felt her presence before you could even process her words. 

Like sakura petals drifting onto the soft white snow—that’s how Ayaka always seemed to you whenever she was kind enough to grace you with her presence. You didn’t know how long she’d been there; if she’d heard everything you and Thoma had talked about. But when the princess knelt to your side and encouraged you to lie down, to rest your head on her lap, you didn’t have the heart to protest. 

The tears continued to flow even if Ayaka smoothed her gentle hands across your hair, humming an old lullaby your mother used to sing you to sleep with. That seemingly endless void was still there—lurking in the depths of your heart. But somehow, Ayaka’s voice, Ayaka’s presence, Ayaka herself was bright enough to make it retreat back into the shadows. 

You could breathe. The darkness was gone.

You weren’t alone.

(And how desperately you wished that time stood still—sealing yourself in that moment for eternity.)

<- previous | next ->

© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms.

[arand0mdutchgirl]

Rwrb text post / fic preview

Little "i'd die for you" preview: coming to ARandomDutchGirl on ao3 on oct first for firstprinceweek day 5!

I'd die for you

aRandomDutchGirl

Summary:

First prince week day 5: life or death DETECTIVES HUSBANDS AU The one where Alex and Henry go undercover together and Henry takes a bullet for Alex ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE

TW: for implied vomiting and fearing that you're going to die and mention of alcohol

Henry takes a sip of his beer and frowns at the man sitting next to him.

"So are you going to tell me what got you so pissed mate?" Henry asks, hoping he comes off as an interested friend instead of an interested undercover detective.

Chris sighs.

"Why am I so- I'll tell you why I'm f****** pissed. F***** snakes, I swear ****-"

It's as if Henry's whole world pauses for a second.

Of course, he knew going into this mission that he could get caught.

But the hypothetical is a lot less terrifying than the reality.

Henry presses his nails into his trembling hand forcing it to stop shaking, because he'll won't be able to deny the accusations and win back the trust of these bloody terrible people if he's shaking in fear.

He downs his beer which isn't a good choice because it makes him want to vomit from fear and adrenaline rather than drowning his anxiety.

He takes a deep breath.

At least Alex isn't with him right now.

Alex might be able to make it out of this mission alive. 

As long as he doesn't blow his cover when he finds out the people he's pretending to belong with murdered his husband.

Christ. Why did they ever agree to go on this mission?

They knew it was dangerous.

Much more so than the ones they've gone on in the past. (Not that they weren't terrifying in their own way).

But they figured they'd be fine as long as they faced the danger together.

Which was rather stupid, because Henry knows that if the situation were reversed and Alex was the one with the blown cover...

He knows there is no way in hell he'd be able to keep his cool and keep up his fake identity after finding out his husband had died.

But Alex is going to have to try because if he fails to keep his false identity his cover will be blown too.

And the only thing worse than knowing Henry is going to die right here surrounded by these bloody awful people he was so sure he was going to get to arrest, is knowing his death essentially caused his husband's death as well.

So he hopes with everything he's got that when  Alex finds out about Henry's death, he won't fall apart until after he's arrested these men.

Henry can only hope Alex won't let himself deal with his husband's death until he's at a safe place to do so.

A laugh catches Henry's attention and brings him back to reality. "Oliver? Are you good? You look like hell mate!"

First Henry thinks it's a trap but it doesn't take long to figure out the man has no clue Henry is one of those snakes he just cussed out.

Meaning someone else's cover got blown...

The realization comes crashing in on Henry and before he knows it he retches.

It's not his cover that got blown.

It's Alex's.

Cr: song die first by Nessa Barrett (so Henry coded i'm gonna cry😭)

Ss cr: most from @aplaceinme and i'm not sure about one of them but if it's your ss tell me and i'll cr you!

O(i did not spent 30 minutes searching pinterest for this just to find the ss i was looking for on tumblr within one second (yes i did ugh)

[gemlover100000]

push 2009 shifting SCIRPT

Push shifting SCIRPT 

Disclaimer don’t copy mine give me permission copy and paste and edit the text thank you 

Clara 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Personally: 

Mental health: ( no cancer , epilepsy etc)

Stigma: 

Strength: 

Intelligence: 

Speed: 

Power(s) 

Be a crossbreed ( mover ,watcher crossbreed  ) optional 

Skin

I have clear skin 

I don’t have any acme 

I don’t have any blackheads 

I don’t have body hair or peach fuzz 

Hygiene 

I will smell fresh 

My hair will not be greasy

My breath will smell good 

My teeth will be white 

Backstory: 

Safe word: 

Face claim: 

Hobbies: 

Strengths: 

Weaknesses: 

Wardrobe: 

Main: 

Nighttime: 

Alternative clothes 1:

Alternative clothes 2:

Alternative clothes 3:

Alternative clothes 4:

Alternative clothes 5:

Alternative clothes 6:

Alternative clothes 7:

Alternative clothes 8:

My house/ apartment and room: 

Car: ( optional) 

Motorcycle: ( optional) 

Belongings: 

Scenarios: 

Extra: 

Unlimited credit card 

Really good social skills 

I can’t get pregnant ( if I want too.) 

I make really funny jokes

I can sing really good 

I know self defense really well

I have a high pain tolerance

I never gain weight

I can run in high heels 

I can control my power very easily 

Division is unable to track me or kill me 

I don’t get tired 

My friends won’t find me annoying 

I can’t die from the screams of the bleeders 

Everyone looks like just in the movie 

By saying jumanji 3x I will immediately leave my dr 

1 day in cr = 1 year in my dr 

Music / movies / shows exist in my dr 

I will have my memories from my cr 

I will know how to use a gun 

I can put on make up perfectly 

My punches are strong

I have internet on my phone 

Timeline: ( move / fan made after the movie ) 

Clone 

My clone is safe 

My clone looks the same 

My clone will look at me and sound like me 

Relationships: 

Mother: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Father:  ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Zodiac: 

Power: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Sister: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power:

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Brother: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Best friend: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Best friend 2: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Soulmate: ( cannon original character) 

Name: 

Age: 

Birthday: 

Power: 

Zodiac: 

Sexually: 

Alive or dead?: 

Works for division, traid your team?: 

Height: 

Weight: 

Body type: 

Nick gant 

He is really kind and loyal to you 

He can protect you at all cost 

He can help you practice at your powers despite he sucks at it 

He can watch movies with you 

You can watch him gamble to win money 

He can cook you breakfast when your tired

He can comfort you when your hung over

He will comfort me when I have a bad dream/ nightmare 

He is immune to dying 

He is immune to getting sick 

Cassie Holmes 

She likes your personality 

She can easily predict things from the future 

She is really smart and intelligent 

She gives out good advice being a watcher

She loves watching tv shows with you 

She is immune of false visions 

She doesn’t drink that often 

He is immune to dying 

He is immune to getting sick 

Kira Hudson 

She likes your personality 

She can easily push you or other people if desired 

Pinky Stein 

He likes your personality 

Hell keep you and your friends safe at all cost

Teresa stowie 

She’ll heal you if your injured

She’ll redeem if desired 

 Side effects of getting your powers 

Mover 

Hands aching 

Hands popping 

Fingers aching 

Watcher 

Headaches 

Seeing visions 

Bleeder 

Throat tingling 

Singing voice improving 

Throat burning 

Urging to scream

Pusher 

Head Aching 

Eye color darkening 

Wiper 

None 

Shadow 

None 

Shifter 

sniff

nose itching

None 

Stitch 

Hands aching 

Warning if you really want shift there are some things. 

Use your powers carefully they are controlled by emotion for example if your a mover and you get angry you feel a aura that means your powers are working

You’ll feel pain in your dr 

If your not Familiar with it watch the movie 

DONT BLAME IT ON ME IF YOUR ATTACKED BY A BLEEDER OR HEALED BY A STITCH ITS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! 

[apricusapollo]

cr regulus almost made sirius kill him so that he could win the games and go home, then he almost drowned again in crimson river, then he climbed (which is a big thing for him), then he watched James die (it wasn't really james), then he watched sirius die (he didn't die), then he killed his favourite cousin (bellatrix), then he and sirius got separated in the maze again, then he finally got rescued but his brother got taken by the hallows,,, ALL IN THE SPAN OF WHAT– 24 HOURS?????

[jaebird88]

Unsurprising, there is a fair amount of discourse over episode 51 of CR. The main point of contention being how Matt progressed through the event of the Apogee Solstice and Ludinus’s grand plan, and everything that happened in between. I seen it argued that Matt railroaded the cast, and I would strongly disagree with that sentiment.

Both above game and within, this was a planned event from the start. For as much as the cast did their best to uncover and prevent what both DM and NPC(s) had in store for the solstice, the dice aided in their journey, and those rolls are what determined the outcome. And it is not as if Bell’s Hells did nothing while Ludinus monologued. Plenty was done in between paragraphs which Matt allowed for. They had a freaking airship crash into the machine, for crying out loud! It did not work because they could not comprehend what the wizard was capable of. But it was not a total loss as it eliminated half the board of threats. The same can be said for the casting of Power Word: Stun.

Matt rolled bad for Keyleth and she couldn’t resist. Again; the dice determined the outcome. She even had advantage, IIRC. As awesome as it could have been to see her go rock kaiju on the baddies, it was not to be. The same can be said about Chetney’s attempt to prevent Ludinus from moving via grapple. It was a great plan, but luck was not on his side. It can be easy to believe our favorite characters will win at everything forever when the players roll great early on. But the more I go on about the die rolls, the more I’m beating this dead horse into oblivion.

Just remember: It’s not my table, it’s not my game. I am along for the experience. Besides, I’m willing to bet there is some divine intervention happening since the party was whisked away to parts (mostly) unknown. It’s not as if Matt wants to kill his player’s characters. Every DM knows once you set up the challenge, it’s up the players to overcome it. Even if they either seem impossible, or are a cakewalk because of busted kits, regardless of die rolls.

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 0: Undone

''I'm gonna throw my memories away, now I feel undone. And I am cursed by every day, till my time is gone. I've never felt this way before and now I know this, so for sure – I won't forget your last betray, I'll never forget this day.''

 – Undone by Desmeon ft. Steklo

xXxXxXx

How long have I've been trapped here? An eternity…

He lowered his head, clutching it in hopes that it his headache would fade away. It didn't. It just grew stronger, not helped by the constant buzzing of the monitor, the fan and the odd metallic sounds and bangs that came from the corridors and air vents. He couldn't bear it anymore. He felt sick, especially since he knew what was waiting behind those doors.

As he lift his head, his dark eyes widened as he saw the huge animatronic towering over him, snapping the claw she wielded and screeching as she lunged at him. Her cry and his screams of agony merged as there was a sickening sound of bones crunching and flesh being torn apart. As the screams died down, darkness fell.

''You won't die, but you'll wish you could.''

The darkness slowly faded and he woke up again in the same room, the clock showing him that it was 12 AM. There was numbing pain pulsating through his chest. He died once again at the hands of one of his creations and had to bear the punishment of having his soul torn apart, leaving him in excruciating pain whenever he would wake up again. He knew he had no time to recover, as the night had once again started and he needed to keep an eye on them.

This was my masterpiece.

He didn't choose to be trapped in this cursed office, spending probably ages while dealing with over 50 animatronics who would come over and over again just to taunt him or to outright kill him. He would recover every night after dying, only to face the nightmares again. Sometimes he would win, having figured out their strategy, but he knew he was just delaying his next death. Every time he won, he would die ten times as much afterwards. Every time he won, the nights became only more difficult, with even more players being thrown into this sick game.

And their only demand is my blood.

He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't fight them. They broke his mind with their games and left only an empty shell. The man who arrived here was no more.

That's what you wanted, right? You wanted to see me tortured and broken. You wanted to see me scream, beg and cry for salvation. And even if I did, you would never release me.

His mind was empty, his senses dull. He couldn't think anymore nor defend himself. A nightmarish marionette was slowly manifesting in front of him. Its face was a black and white mask with sharp teeth and its torso was a black ribcage. He trembled as the animatronic screamed, stabbing his chest with one of its appendages.

''I-I-I AM THE FEARFUL REFLECT-ECTION OF WHAT YOU HAVE CR-CREA-ATED.''

The animatronic vanished as he fell over, screaming in agony. Blood gushed from the wound on his chest, his fingers trembling as he attempted to stop it.

''I hate you! Henry! Mike!''

He was shaking in fear as he felt his life being drained. He felt dizzy, his blurry vision turning black as he cried in anguish.

''Please… help me…'' he whimpered as the darkness embraced him once again.

Links:

#Previous Chapter

#Current Chapter

#Next Chapter

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

[nochi-quinn]

legend of vox machina watch party episodes 1-3: billfrito

why does all the amazon lovm merch look SO BAD

let laura bailey run your merch department amazon

amazon merch: focus-tested, advertiser friendly, bland

cr official merch: laura bailey wanted a thing so she made it, superior, personal

matt: I play The Entire Rest Of The World

are they already drunk or just goofy

the eternal question

"tall and lovely" literally nobody remembers sam is tall

djfskj he matches the sofa

GILMORE-SCENTED

oh HE'S already drunk

"that's five more trinkets than ever appear in the show"

travis in the calamity merch

aw, but mica's speech

I have absolutely forgotten how to use the watch party

oh right I don't get video until twitch says I get video

EPISODE ONE

"what could go wrong"

"I don't know what that means"

see, even this has better quality than the actual prime video player

"everybody be quiet I'm talking"

75k?!

I mean it makes sense but also that's A Number

"it's sleeping gas"

Nickelodeon Presents Legend of Vox Machina

WIZARDS

well she's a sorceror but WIZARDS

I was really hoping liam would be in this one but I'm beginning to understand why he's not

can you imagine

mb next time for maximum trauma

"that was my child" "sam's kids die all the time in this show"

"and then this happens"

THORDAK

I didn't notice the lens flare in the city shot beforeeeeee

"I don't wanna say yes until I know what happens" that's amazing

"don't let your shop fall on you next time"

"freak-ass"

I love that travis watches the reaction videos

"we should get rid of that"

Just A Broom™

"if the spork doesn't work you have no choice"

"no horses were harmed"

oh WOW

give them all raises

animation should win cinematography

Sam's Kids Watch

I still regret the loss of Kiki's friendship with the Sun Tree

s a m

"and it makes for really great desktop wallpapers"

"buildings were still…up"

"when I did it in their imaginations"

OH SHIT I want THAT for a wallpaper

these are fucking gorgeous

FLORIDA DRAGON

"I'm from there, I can say that"

I enjoy so much that matt has just leaned into wearing comfy pants to every event

jesus

the scrawlings of a madman

Big Dragon is Big

mica

who is that skinny motherfucker

THERE'S gilmore

I don't know who that other guy was. dark gilmore.

skinny gilmore isn't real, he can't hurt you

"I'm dying, show me your tits"

ahhh sketchy thordak

"big mistake giving sunil a catchphrase"

"remember when TVs had dials? I don't, I wasn't alive then"

travis is already in despair

y'all know what you were getting into when you let her host again

did travis just go "have fun storming the castle"

EPISODE TWO

it is nice to hear dani

"the internet is still just a concept"

will!!

the persistence of my crush on will friedle is astounding

ABC's TGIF veterans sound off

"someone had to design this!"

Ethereal Butt Scoops

will

"you're in this one!" "I know, I've heard"

Australian Accent Guy

I have not sat down and tried to hear the main cast in the background yet

there you go, it was Caduceus, but not For Real Caduceus, just Easter Egg Caduceus

"the armor looks a lot like Kima's armor!" "yeah, imagine that"

"we had to change it, the first take she was watching The Boys"

She

"if you put a backwards hat on [kashaw] it would fit"

He

STABBY WHEELCHAIR

memelords

matTHEW

josh turner, she's talking about josh turner

spoilers will

I love that they get to record together again but I

will's first ever animated swear!

terry deserved to swear lbr

"that was horrible" "it was fun!"

he's just so proud of himself. and so wrong.

"okay byeeee"

ONE PERSON did all of this?!

osysa's facial animation is so fucking good

sassy arrogant woman on sassy arrogant woman violence

memelords

victor!

taliesin just sneezed somewhere

Bill Frito

ART

aww, them coming up with story for kash and zahra just 'cause they could

OSYSA CONCEPT ART

why is there an audio desync when I have my headset off but not with it on

I'm unfortunately having to use this as a break to check on my kid

I desperately need Victor Award Speech

I don't even care if it's just a Victor Laugh at the end. I need this.

I Saw Green Once

"oh he's a dick!"

"you really crafted the perfect fuckboi"

ANIMATED CALAMITY???

MATT IF IT'S ANIMATED CALAMITY YOU HAVE TO TELL ME OTHERWISE IT'S ENTRAPMENT

"please get out"

I need my kid's pancreas to quit fucking up so I can put my headset back on, I missing so much crosstalk orz

DANI CARR 👏👏👏

it ain't called chaos couch for nothin

professionalism, we don't know her

"no we got a few more bits"

will did you not catch my TGIF shoutout earlier, I absolutely remember dial-up

EPISODE THREE

"that's the head of the CCP" M A T T H E W

justice for dexter the cute dragon

Skipping the Intro Is A War Crime

"who did that? I hope he's awesome" "yeah about that"

"tieflings are so cool" "just tieflings, not that other asshole"

will's shirt is doing an optical illusion on the picture in picture

"like taking the laugh track out of mash" that's a really good analogy actually

forever in awe of travis' ability to hit that pitch

I changed my twitter name to 'do not go far from me' bc I chose violence

[psychonauts 1 voice] YOU, tree-sitter!

I still cannot hear troy baker here, I am ashamed of myself

"he's a bit of an ass, you've got this"

"complete with traps" "SPOILERS"

I do love zahra's face there

"this is just travis as a player" noted Big Red Button addict travis willingham

"stay away from her! get a job!" dslkfjls

I wondered how much of this was or wasn't from kith and kin, I haven't had the chance to read it

I'm absolutely in awe of foley artists

I always felt like travis was living vicariously through grog with the beard, since he had to shave his for mocap work at the time

"I think your beard is evil!"

"'cause mary sucks in real life and I'm the nice one"

"there's never a time when they just turn around and go home" this is why Campfire Cooking In Another World is excellent, the protagonist is just like "no 🥰"

still in love with vex's little ear twitch

the way they all just went SILENT

"I don't wanna cry on national television"

you are not immune to liam o'brien

"you spelled my name 'troy baker'"

nope, no pokeball yet

(they are definitely not allowed to call it a pokeball) (I am under no such restrictions)

"that was definitely on purpose"

"we should finish those episodes"

"JUST MAKE THIS ONE BLACK AND WHITE"

I'm torn btwn "ha ha funny d&d wife jokes" and "that's actually important to communicate before it has the CHANCE to be a problem"

oh SHIT this concept art

"control water moses style"

"the damned missionaries showed up"

"their dicks are teeth"

NOT THE XENOMORPH

"do not make fanart of that"

matt if you get to say that out loud fcg gets to have a flesh tongue

"hashtag - " "NO"

grog and bacon edge was a+

that time he made scanlan drown out him in the outhouse so he could talk to it

"oh no we all share one brain cell, this is horrible"

matt say the names out loud before you get to the table, I've been saying this for years

CR 13 Pedobear

"obsessed with that" "you should not be"

"I showed these episodes to my kids" sam no

Dark is Not Evil

oh right kestrel came up with marisha's space frog

"we're gonna show up and talk behind you"

the episodes drop three hours before critrole for me, rip my thursday nights

drop the video will. will drop the video. will.

"I UNDERSTAND THAT REFERENCE"

"iono" "MATTHEW"

OH THE NECKLACE

them threatening matt until he picks a voice to do

"WHO'S SCRATCH KASH"

their dream guest stars have a habit of just being their guest stars

Bill Frito Can Do Anything

mica are you talking abo - you're talking about your dad

"I cannot do that."

ROBBIE

I miss him

that's right, will nuked all his socials

(good for him)

"you can" "get fucked"

mica just going "END"