#you can pry this truth from my cold dead hands

[binghe-malewife-goals]

Since Arcane is so purposeful with its animation in every little detail I'm fully convinced that actually you were supposed to read Jayce and Viktor's relationship in a queer context

[sweetlullabyebye]

Wait hold up ghosts can feel things in Hell (I think?) so it's litteraly the first time Charles could actually feel Edwin when holding his face?

[veerbles]

every single thing said about kaz is just like, patently false to the point of irony. dirtyhands about a man whose hands are literally spotless because they're never uncovered. without morals or conscience, would do anything for money when it is repeatedly implied he's passed over business opportunities if they involved slavery or indentures. doesn't say goodbye, just lets go about a man who has made it a point to never let anything go. doesn't need a reason when he is proven to never act without a reason, and in all actuality usually has at least two. and this is without mentioning bastard of the barrel about probably one of the only barrel kids to have at least started out with a "normal", happy nuclear family...

and it just makes me think: kaz is deliberately written not to be better than people say he is, but just bad in different ways. he is not good or virtuous or compassionate; the point of having people say things that are not true about him isn't to make a point of his completely different nature.

so the point of it can only be to emphasize how nobody really knows him. to draw attention to his absolute isolation. and maybe to give more credit to how much his 'armour', which is supposed to protect him by keeping everyone away, really only serves to keep him away from everyone else.

[pendragonsclotpole]

watching delicious in dungeon has made me realize that i may have a thing for blond/blondish secretly psychopathic fictional male characters that fantasize the best ways to cook and bring out the taste of the flesh of other beings

honestly with how long hannibal has had me in a chokehold it shouldn��t be surprising but it is weird it happened twice

[apollos-boyfriend]

anyways all i’m saying is that if the federation truly did manage to make the eggs fully invisible to qq it makes a LOT of sense for the island to be a simulation. all they had to do was go in and edit some code and - [I AM FORCIBLY REMOVED FROM THE STAGE]

[destieldisaster]

I think we should all remember that we don't need prequels or actors or cons to keep these characters alive. That is what fandom is WE keep it alive long after the media has moved on. They cannot take Castiel away from us, he is not theirs to take and he will never EVER die

[kris-mage-fics]

URL Music

Thanks for tagging me @bi-stander!

K: The Koi Story (锦鲤抄) performed by Jiaju and Zongli

R: Renn by :LOR3L3I:

I: In And Out Of Love by Armin van Buuren feat. Sharon Den Adel

S: Surrender by The Birthday Massacre (cw: lyrics about stalking)

M: Middle Of The Night by Elley Duhé

A: Arise by CLANN

G: Good Behavior by Plumb

E: Everytime We Touch or Evacuate The Dancefloor by Cascada (Sorry I can't choose!)

F: Flower Maiden by Dzivia

I: I Miss You by blink-182 (cw: flashing lights, disturbing imagery, depictions of drowning, and spiders)

C: Concomitance by Anton Belov (bandcamp link since I couldn't find it as a single on youtube)

S: Show Your Fangs by The Crane Wives

By the way, a lot of these videos have the lyrics in the CC, description box, or in one of the top comments. Though I know some of the lyrics for "Good Behavior" are wrong.

Tagging @yuuugay (three U's might be hard, but I believe in you, Yuki!), and @georgiedoesntfloat (I'm sure you'll find some awesome songs!), and anyone who'd like to do this too! (Sorry for not tagging anyone else, I actually did like 96% of this two days ago then my brain decided it couldn't think of more people who like music and it hasn't been cooperating with me since. :/ Did I go overboard with the colors? Idk, but I'm leaving it.)

[fluideli123]

I've watched the DP&W movie twice in theaters and three plus times on a pirated site, and I wanted to grant my analysis on Wade and Logan's relationship that not only respects Vanessa--because Vanessa was literally Wade's Soulmate until shit hit the fan and you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands. But also explains how Logan and Wade actually represent a a-spec experience and relationship that I feel like no one has really gotten into. Am I saying they're a-spec? No. But that doesn't mean queer relationships that are fairly normal in a-spec spaces doesn't mean they don't exist outside of them as well.

First of all, the only two reasons I believe Vanessa and Wade broke up was 1) Wade went back in time to save Vanessa and he told her after his usual routine of jokes and lies and 2) Wade finally believed he could be something more, a hero, only to be turned down by the people who are known for their heroism, leaving him lost.

I genuinely believe Vanessa had a hard time taking in that knowledge, but knowing Wade and everything they've been through she would get through that like the badass she is and work through it using her plans A-Z, as she always does. But I think to really stop that woman from continuing to start a family with Wade like she wanted to in Deadpool 2, is if Wade was no longer within the right mindset to do so.

Deadpool 1 introduced Wade as someone who believed he was a bad guy who got paid to fuck up worse guys, he refused the term hero, and the moment he even tried to reach for something selfless. An act that would hopefully spare Vanessa from the pain of cancer, it all got fucked up and he got turned into a monster. Someone he deemed even lesser than he was before. So far gone and completely removed from what he was loved for (his looks and personality, but how could his personality stand alone when he looked so ugly? As ugly as he always felt on the inside?)

So he turned to what he's always known: Tracking people down and making them pay. In his mind this only confirms that he's a monster, he isn't deserving of Vanessa, of anyone. Which is why he finds comfort in Blind Al, a woman who will only have to deal with his personality and not be able to see how ugly he actually is. Symbolism for showing only half of himself and not him in his entirety (not that he can hide it from her, she's too wise, knowledgeable, caring, and knows Wade better than he knows himself at this point.)

Eventually, he finishes his hunt and is still loved despite what had transpired. Vanessa still chose him, still loved him. So maybe despite how ugly he is, he can still be loved. This grounded him, solidified his self worth, have him such stability that he had a thriving relationship with Vanessa that they were SO ready to start a family, aspired to live that dream. Another act of selfishness. Only to, once again, be met by pain. Get his dream taken away, once again resorting to what he knows: revenge.

Wade wants to be a hero? He gets forcefully mutated. Wade wants a family? Vanessa gets killed. Both are immediately solved by death, but that self-loathing and sickening hatred towards himself do nothing to cure that same confirmation he had once thought he got over: That he wasn't a monster, he could be loved, be something else.

So of course Vanessa is who, even in death, looks him in the eyes and tells him he cares, he has always cared. He cares so deeply about the people in his life he meets who unconditionally love him for him as time passes, despite all his flaws.

Wade wants to be a hero? Colossus believes he can be. Wade wants to save the 13-year-old abused kid? Vanessa knows he can. He saves lives by sacrificing himself. He scarified his comfort to show Vanessa the full truth of his ugliness, he sacrificed his life for Russel to give him a better life. Maybe he isn't a complete monster, maybe he can believe again. He can be selfish, he can be reckless. So he goes back and saves more people. Heroes do that. They save the people they love. You don't hold the whole world on your shoulders, no, like Miles learned in ATSV you think of one person of the few people you want to fight against the world to protect. And he did just that.

With Vanessa back and a big family he can finally chase after what he wasn't meant for. Because it's only happened twice, it wouldn't happen again-

Rejection. He can't be a hero because people don't need him. He is the needy one, the one who wants to be needed, needs to be wanted. So, it's the crash. The final straw. He breaks. He breaks so hard because what the fuck is the point to trying if every time he is met with failure? Rejection? Pain? Loss? He becomes so stuck in figuring this all out he neglects his relationship with Vanessa, causing issues. They go separate ways, but still so close, because you don't just lose your best friend like that, even if you're no longer partners. They're always meant to be together one way or another.

So you have this broken man who is searching for purpose, years later still harboring this tiny flicker of hope that he can be greater. He can be great. He can be a hero.

His world is in trouble, he doesn't think twice saving it. He accepts he isn't perfect for this, not like all the big guys back in Avengers headquarters, but he can't let his loved ones die because of someone he's had a vendetta against the last two movies.

He literally fights and fights and fights to find someone to help him, Wade can't save who he loves he has to find someone else you can, anyone else.

Than a broken, desperate man walks into a bar to see another broken man who has since long given up.

The thing about Logan and Wade is that they don't need words. Wade blew himself up in order to die in the second movie, Logan drinks himself away, both knowing they can't die no matter how much they want to. How much they believe they deserve it.

So Wade sees a Wolverine who has potential, who hasn't hurt him (unlike the others, he gets hurt so much, guys) and places his faith in him without hesitation. From that moment on he has never truly doubted Logan's abilities nor his heroism, because he knew his Logan and if his world was anchored by a Logan than all Logan's are built with something he isn't. They're made to be heroes, made to be important. Yeah, they fight, but I strongly believe that's how two broken men say everything words can't possibly describe.

I mean what words could describe the way they go all out on each other, knowing the other can't die, the way Wade looks up at him, not wanting to regrow his entire body because he needs to save his world and understands Logan and has to decide to say something that'll convince him to help. Wade doesn't know if stopping the machine will completely save his world or if a new Logan will patch it up too, it's his own educated wish he passes onto Logan. Because just like Russel, he cares. He understands. He wants to help.

It's that faith, hope, and resistance and face of humor despite it all that causes Logan to stick by that dumb asses side. He lost everything, he is seeing someone like himself before he stumbled home drunk from the bar to find everyone dead. Someone who is capable of doing something he wasn't able to. He wants to help, more and more for Wade and less himself, a silent journey of healing following Wades steps everywhere they stumble into.

Because Logan was just drunk at a bar before being told he was needed to save a world, told he was the worst before being offered help anyone, getting praised over his capabilities, and than told again and again how he is able to be someone he never thought he could be. Much like Wade was and is.

Logan sees it. Wade most likely ignores it, much like anything else. He isn't very open with anyone other than Vanessa as we've learned.

So just- of course Wolverine is the honest one, of course he hits low, he sees himself and Wade and wants to hurt him. Wade wants to hurt him back, but only when he's directly attacked by his words and threats, a way of not taking shit. Logan took shit from the world and than didn't from Wade and his emotional rollercoster right. And I think without whatever happened in that Honda Odyssey things wouldn't have been the same. They needed that fight, that release, that hatred from themselves to burst into the form of someone else who could take it just as much as the other could.

Logan listens to Wade's home at the borderlands. Logan is given kindness and tough love. Logan joins. Logan begins to understand how most linger by Wade's side despite everything. He sees why. He's a force, he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, not for others. It grants strength, though imperfect and messy.

Logan believes Wade deserves better. So he plans on sacrificing himself only for Wade to once again show how much of a Hero he wants to be and could be. Only for those two idiots to hold hands to madona and come to a mutual understanding and comfort that has Wade making room for Logan in his and Al's apartment.

And there is something so inherently a-spec about not being explicitly sexual with each other, having an understanding that goes beyond direct words and full truths. They they can hurt one another and it feels so good, so wanted and cherished. How they support one another by being fucked up and sloppy. They're wrecks and they help the other heal, do what they're too afraid to do.

What is more a-spec than two people looking at each other with adoration and trust? To be two people who cannot be placed within a single both because their relationship and meaning to one another isn't so neatly cut and within expectations? To love in a way that blood and standing side by side is a comfort? A steadying point in which everything becomes clearer with time?

They make me so fucking sick, they make me so FUCKING SICK.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Preliminary Round

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Last Sun by K.D. Edwards (The Tarot Sequence series)

Endorsement from submitter: "Totally immersive, absolutely gut wrenching, with the most fascinating of unreliable narrators, this series has me in a chokehold. This first book is the least diverse, but as the series goes on you get more female characters and more characters of color. I think one of the most personally striking things for me is how nice it is to read a book by an ace man about an ace man. We don't get near enough of those. Plus I will die on the QPR Rune/Brand hill. There are so few stories where one of the most crucial relationships in the book is neither romantic nor sexual and you can pry it out of my cold dead hands."

Rune Saint John, last child of the fallen Sun Court, is hired to search for Lady Judgment's missing son, Addam, on New Atlantis, the island city where the Atlanteans moved after ordinary humans destroyed their original home.

With his companion and bodyguard, Brand, he questions Addam's relatives and business contacts through the highest ranks of the nobles of New Atlantis. But as they investigate, they uncover more than a missing man: a legendary creature connected to the secret of the massacre of Rune's Court.

In looking for Addam, can Rune find the truth behind his family's death and the torments of his past?

Fantasy, urban fantasy, mystery, series, adult

The Javelin Program by Derin Edala (Time to Orbit: Unknown series)

When Dr Aspen Greaves signed up for the Javelin Program, humanity's first foray into colonising deep space, they expected to wake up to life in a thriving colony on a distant planet. Instead, they find themself five years away from their destination on a broken spaceship full of complex mysteries, dead astronauts, and a very unhelpful AI.

Aspen wasn't trained for any of this. But if they can't keep themselves alive, get the ship in working order, and find out what went wrong by unravelling a chain of mysteries leading all the way back to distant Earth, then neither Aspen nor the five thousand sleeping passengers in their care will ever see a planet again.

Science fiction, mystery, series, adult

[dark-and-kawaii]

Just a thought came to mind! How do you feel about Haarlep, Rolan, and Zevlor covering you with hickies while holding you close & their tails are wrapped around your leg? I'm curious :3

Notes: My weakness, I can feel my legs giving up on me right this second just thinking about this!!! Tender moments like these/ possessive ones give me life!!!

₊˚⊹♡ Pairings: Rolan x Tav/Reader - Haarlep x Tav/Reader - Zevlor x Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Content: Comfort - Possessive - Longing - Lips On Skin

「 ✦ Zevlor ✦ 」

As you both sat next to the campfire, a soft glow dancing upon your bodies, Zevlor held you with a tenderness that spoke of years of loneliness. His touch devoted, worshipful, as if savoring a long lost treasure. Each kiss a prayer. The warmth of his hand, a soothing balm on a cold night.

With his fiery eyes, he watched you, drinking in every sigh, every moan, every quiver that trembled along your body, “it’s been too long…” he murmured, his voice a deep comforting rumble.

As his lips traced a path along your skin, leaving hickies that were both tender and possessive, his tail wrapped around your leg with a protective warmth. In his embrace, you felt cherished and safe, as if his years of solitude had found their answer in you. The world seemed a little brighter in the glow of his affection, and you knew that in Zevlor's arms, you had found a love that would last forever.

「 ✦ Haarlep ✦ 」

It was busy, always was in the marketplace of Baldurs Gate, where the air was thick with the scent of spices and the chatter of merchants… This is where Haarlep found his favorite kind of playground. Or rather, it would usually be the creature's favorite playground- finding an innocent soul to seduce, to break and feed off us until they were an empty husk. However, Haarlep only had eyes for you… And when he finally found you, a grin spread across his face as his arm reached from the dark alley and pulled you into seclusion, away from prying eyes.

His touch was warm, his skin like silk against your own, his voice almost hypnotic. It was almost hard for you to understand his words over the hammering of your heart.

Each kiss a promise of delightful mayhem as his lips trailed along your neck, leaving a constellation of hickies in their wake. His tail coiled around your leg, a playful yet possessive gesture, “You can’t hide from me little dove~.” a chill snaked down your spine, even as his body warmed yours. A finger gently ran up and down your arm, his nail scraping the soft skin ever so slightly.

In that moment, the world faded away, the market no longer loud, just a piercing silence leaving only the intoxicating presence of Haarlep and the thrilling unpredictability of his so called love.

「 ✦ Rolan ✦ 」

The library was quiet in the dead of night,the perfect place for Rolan to immerse himself in his studies. Yet tonight, the usually grumpy wizard found himself distracted by thoughts of you. With a resigned sigh, Rolan set his book aside and sought you out, his heart wishing to hear your soft voice, his body aching to feel you against him.

When he had found you, his usual gruff demeanor softened, and he pulled you into a quiet corner within the room- his body pinning you to the wall. Rolan’s kisses were surprisingly gentle, each hickey a mark of his reluctant yet undeniable affection. Each nip of his teeth, every swipe of his tongue, left you feeling as if you were about to burn up beneath him.

His tail, usually flicking in irritation now wrapped around your leg, holding you close as if fearing you’d disappear. His hands, so accustomed to holding a quill or staff, held your hips with an almost desperate grasp. Rolan felt his mind slowly become more clouded the more he felt you, his usual stoic nature giving way to an unexpected eagerness, “Don’t expect this often,” he grumbled… But you could tell from his actions that his words were far from the truth.

[horizonzerodawnaesthetic]

There’s not a single thing Erend wouldn’t love about hockey. The loud music and buzzers, the fire, the high-speed sport itself, the fact that it’s totally normal for them to just start beating each other up, the fact it’s also totally normal for the crowd to have absolutely no manners. It’s like it was made for him.

EREND in HORIZON: FORBIDDEN WEST

[giirlblood]

caregiver ! vi headcanons !!

requested by @themoondropcollective . spinning around because i LAUV vi , he's one of my own fictional cgs (>/////< " ) . butch cg for eensy butch !! i refer to vi with he / him pronouns .. you can pry tmasc butch vi from my cold dead hands . it brings me comfort as a fellow trans butch to see someone like me :3 .. if you'd prefer other pronouns let me know but i default to he for him . that being said my vi is not a binary man pronouns do not equal gender :L .

vi is the silliest caregiver ever !! more like an older sibling in the sense that he doesn't have lots of rules && can't help but giggle when you get into mischief . he calls you lots of silly nicknames like nugget , bug , && squirt !! he teases you by calling you tiny sometimes as a nickname too but it always comes with a chuckle && a hair tousle .

while its my truth that vi is transmasculine he loves being called "mama" by his littles . you also call him "bubba" but he always melts when someone calls him "mama" or just "ma" . he does Not like being called mommy though . he's also okay with more masculine names like "papa" or "dada" as well && responds better to daddy than mommy though it's not preferred .

always telling you stories !! some of them are made up but a lot of them are about his life . he often gets lost in his tales but you hang onto his every last word .

loves to teach you new things . these little lessons often come with a little story of his own !! he notices you giggling && bites back a laugh of his own . " mama's silly , huh squirt." teaches you how to throw a punch but also about little everyday things like tying your shoes .

SOOOO protective .. literally your guard dog , he will not hesitate to throw a punch or clap back verbally if someone poses a threat to you . king of glares too , he scares away aaallll the meanies . always holding your hand && proudly calling you his little one . he often has his hand on your shoulder as a way to reassure you he's there for back up .

always including your stuffies in everything , he's so playful with them !! if you're sad he'll have them talk to you in silly voices to cheer you up && he has little conversations with them to make you giggle . sometimes he can't help but crack up himself .

he lets you play with his hair && put little clips in it . you love his hair soo much , the color is so AWESOME !! when his hair is longer he lets you style it however you like .

on the topic of hair he loves washing yours . it's super soothing for him && makes him feel closer to you . it's something so intimate that he treasures , running his hands through your hair , doing his best to learn all he can about how to take care of it if you have more kinky hair so he can meet all of your needs .

he's super good at braiding from always doing powder's braids && it's something that calms him down . if you have longer hair he's always happy to braid it — he can do all of the fancy braids !! he tries to teach you but your fingers are a bit clumsy what with you being so little .

even though he himself doesn't always practice safe binding he makes sure that you do . if you whine about it trying to point out that he doesn't he sheepishly says something like , "well you shouldn't do everything daddy does ."

[bitethedevil]

I swear, I’m minutes away from pulling out a giant bulletin board and covering it in pieces of string that connect Rafael to every single event in the game. I feel like a crazy person, but I know that he basically spiderwebbed most of the plot together.



Goddamn it, anon (said lovingly). Now I feel like making my own too. Because I swear, he pops up all over the place, even just for stuff that’s not even plot relevant.

Spot the Devil: Raphael's Involvement in the plot

I’ll start out with letters and books I’ve found that made me go “hmmmm”.

Letter in the Harpy Nest (Maybe)

When you’ve saved Mirkon he mentions something about a nest nearby. If you get to it there is a ring, a journal, and a letter. The letter is what made me go “hmm”. You can read the full thing here. Basically, a guy named Edmund tells wife/girlfriend that she doesn’t have to worry about someone named Maggie Two-Fingers anymore, because he has settled a debt. To pay off said debt, he makes a deal with a cambion and becomes a warlock:

”[…] I took the deal the cambion offered. I'm not going to say I had no choice, because that would be a lie. But I don't regret it. I'm a new man. I feel strong for the first time in my life. Aside from being awoken in the middle of the night by the smell of sulphur (he likes to drop by to 'see how everything is going') I have no complaints […]”

Now, there was a journal too, but I don’t believe the two things were related, even though the journal talks about a devil too. From what I can see, the journal is an easter egg for a campaign called ‘Tomb of Annihilation’. Besides, Edmund is going to Icewind Dale and the campaign takes place in Chult.

It just makes sense to me if its Raphael. We know he hangs out near the grove because we get jumpscared by him before going to this area. It could be our boy and with how much he pops up constantly it wouldn’t surprise me.

A Pleasurable Deal (Maybe)

You can pry this theory from my cold dead hands: Raphael was involved in making this play. It stinks of him.

So, A Pleasurable Deal is an erotic play. The plot isn’t completely written out, but a cambion, who is named Carlisle in the play, is involved.

“Carlisle: Weep not, young man, though free your wife has fled,

And comfort found in comrade's arms and bed.

She licks her lips and cries his name, oh my!

And now you seek to be the apple of her eye?”

Carlisle basically helps a man named Robert get a bigger dick, or…something along those lines. The ”apple of her eye” line is just so Raphael. The whole thing is, to be honest. In the A Pleasurable Deal: The Shocking Truth, it’s revealed that the author sold her soul to make it:

“Interviewer: So .. what was your deal?

Harp: I beg your pardon?

Interviewer: In fact, this was your directorial debut, wasn't it? You couldn't even get published in the tabloid 'Baldur's Bash' before this play came out. Did you honestly trade your soul for an erotic play?

Harp: I- all right, we're done here.”

I mean, come on. This is so him. It’s right up his alley.

Devil Don’t Rhyme

This is a book you can find in the Devil’s Den. Devil Don’t Rhyme is definitely about him:

“[This is a heroic fantasy in verse form, told in the first person by a bold poet who challenges a devil (clearly modelled on Raphael) to an improvised poetry contest to win back the soul of his lover. The following couplet has been circled in red ink.]

'If the line doesn’t scan,' the devil sneers, 'you forfeit your soul and end in tears.' / 'Ha! I’ll keep my time and make my rhyme, with vim and snap and no "down came the claw" crap.'”

Which is just so fucking funny to me. He has been seething and underlining the parts that prove it’s about him.

Alright, onto actual events: Netheril

Raphael was there when Netheril fell. He told us in the Devil’s Den. He has been searching for the Crown of Karsus ever since. He saw the entirety of Karsus’s fuck-up, but didn’t manage to snatch up the Crown of Karsus itself. We do know, however, that he has other Netherese artifacts (the Archivist says so). The Regalia of Karsus were three objects and Raphael has at least one, meaning that if Raph gets the crown, he has a much bigger chance at actually controlling it and using it like it's supposed to be used. This might also be why Mephistopheles hasn't used it: he doesn't have the other artifacts to properly harness its powers.

There are also theories that he has been skulking about and trying to find it after. There’s a really well written theory by @firlionemoontav that connects him to Lenore from the Arcane Tower in the Underdark. He has left no stone unturned.

Orpheus and Vlaakith

I learned about this from an amazing theory post made by @certifieddilfenjoyer

When you go to the Astral Plane, near Orpheus, there is this Githyanki slate that you can find. It depicts Vlaakith making a deal with a Devil, “his face twisted with wry charm”, for the Astral prism. Yeah, Orpheus’ imprisonment? Raphael helped with that. He even taunts Orpheus while he waits for us to approach him and says something about him looking good in chains or something along those lines (kinky old man yaoi).

And honestly, it makes perfect sense as to why he has the hammer then. The hammer has multiple purposes, but in About Creation of the Orphic Hammer he mentions it as “insurance policy”:

“The Hammer is not a weapon, it is an insurance policy. Its function is specific, but its utility is boundless. No chains forged by infernal hand can withstand its power, for its core is a metalifferous compound combining the purest of essence of all Nine hells. If I should ever need to liberate the prisoners held in the Iron City of Dis, to shatter the vaults of Nargus, or even to free the child of Gith, my hammer will be equal to the task.”

Makes good sense because what he has done with the Astral Prism is a pretty big deal and hard to undo otherwise.

Moonrise Towers, the Gauntlet of Shar and Astarion

So, Raphael makes a deal with the architect of Moonrise Towers, who you also see wandering around the House of Hope. The architect gives up his soul in exchange for Raphael ending Ketheric’s army.

To do that, he sends Yurgir who is tasked with killing every last justiciar. Raphael then makes a deal with one of the justiciars who he then turns into a bunch of rats so that Yurgir can’t fulfill his contract.

We then help Yurgir or kill him, and Raphael helps us with Astarion’s scars. (This is just me theorizing from here) I find it kind of interesting that Raphael seems to know so much about Astarion. You get the feeling that he has obviously done his research on all of the companions, but with Astarion he makes that nasty “you’ve kept your clothes on this entire time? How unlike you” comment. Astarion would be such an easy target to go after, which makes me believe that Raph definitely knew beforehand about Astarion AND Mephistopheles’ deal with Cazador, but he hasn’t been able to pettily do something about it before the things that happen in BG3. But he has kept an eye on it. He can’t be seen defying his father like that directly, after all. I just find it hard to believe that Raph wouldn't jump at the business opportunity of 7000 desperate vampires hiding in Baldur's Gate. Like he definitely knows.

Gortash

Raphael bought Gortash from his parents when he was a kid, and Gortash eventually got out. It’s quite possible that Gortash only knew about the Crown of Karsus because of Raphael. He even went through Raphael’s house to steal the crown (and probably took a portal from there to Cania).

Might also be the only reason that he would ever make a deal with Zariel. He knows the Hells and how they work. In a way its even more of a “fuck you” that he goes to Zariel because she is far above Raphael as she is the Archdevil of Avernus (and thus she is sort of Raph’s boss). We also don't know what Gortash gets in return for handing Karlach to Zariel. It's speculated that it has something to do with the construction of the Steel Watch, but it wouldn't surprise me if peace from Raphael was a part of it too.

A world without Raphael

So, basically: had Raphael not been there, Orpheus would be free and a whole people would have had very different lives under someone else than the Vlaakiths, because Orpheus would have rebelled and told everyone what she did to Gith (his mother). We wouldn’t have had the Astral Prism to protect us, but on the other hand, we might not even have had the whole tadpole business to deal with anyway if Gortash didn’t know where the Crown of Karsus was. The whole thing could literally have been avoided.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[minzis]

My Achilles Heel

Art Credits: angelsandskullz

ꨄ︎༻Simon Riley One-Shot༺ꨄ︎

✦❘༻Summary: After another mission of ignoring protocol and barely making it out of alive Simon is far from angry.

✦❘༻Tags: sfw, hurt/comfort, 1.7k words.

✦❘༻Author’s Note: For one sorry this took so long I’ve been a bit busy lately and I was orginally working on a different Ghost fic but I wasn’t liking it wether that will be posted idk but if it does you’ll see it. For those who like listening to music I listened to ‘Poison Tree’ by Grouper while writing it :3

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The expected slam of the door never came as he shut it behind you both. “Y/n…” he said your name in a tone he hadn’t used before, he always used your call sign or kid. He sat down in the chair at his desk. He looked more exhausted than usually. “Are you mad?” a stupid question after the stunt you pulled on the last mission.

“I’m not mad just disappointed,” something about it coming from him hurt more than anything. It felt like whiplash, air stolen from your lungs. It meant more when he said it, hurt more cause he was the one who said it. Wide scared eyes that watered as you stood stiff in front of his desk.

You weren’t going to cry, you are not going to cry. Not in-front of him. A harsh eerie silence filled the room his eyes focused on you unwavering. You always had something to say but this time you weren’t, you were silent. You sniffled softly trying to keep it quiet as possible.

But he heard it you knew he did, his eyes softened a bit when he realized you were practically already crying. He’s said many things to you and for the very first time he had made you cry.

“Can’t you just be mad?” you said in a small voice like a child crying to her father, soothing coos you never heard. It’d be easier if he was angry maybe then it wouldn’t be so hard, so hurtful. The pain in your voice seemed to surprise him, you’ve always taken his criticism with no issues.

To say you and Ghost were close would be an overstatement if he had to admit anything. He’d say you were a leech or some lost puppy that always followed him around. You’d have to pry the thoughts out his cold dead body if you wanted to truth.

“Kid almost got yourself killed, you-,” he cut himself off a deep sigh coming from him pinching at the bridge of his nose. You wanted to speak but no words seem to form a good enough excuse.

‘You were going to get hurt’

‘You needed help’

What were you wanting to say, sorry? You weren’t you’d probably do it again. You have though on more then one occasion. Reckless decisions assuming you knew better despite any consequences.

“You got lucky and you won’t get so lucky again,” he huffed out.

“I was saving you,” you trailed the whisper hardly meeting his ears. His eyes shot up to yours a look of fury in them, this time he sure as hell looked angry.

“I do not need you to save me and I sure as hell don’t need you risking your life for me,” his voice raised as he stood upright his hands slamming against the desk. The man who stood by you in every moment you were alone, the man who was there for every tear, laugh and award. The person who said you were going to be okay the first time you got injured on the field.

You never talked about your family and maybe it was easier to forget than think of them. It was only understandable that you’d look up to him like a safe heaven. Ghost doesn’t have nor ever wanted any kids, not like he believes he could be a good father. The man could hardly keep himself on two feet, he seen the signs maybe it’s why he tried to push you away in anyway he knew how.

“You’d be fucking dead if it wasn’t for me,” your defense seemed useless against his wrath as he rounded his desk stopping in-front of you. You were ready to retort but his trembling hands clung to the sides of your shoulders. It felt desperate just like the terror and adamance in his eyes.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” he was yelling. He never yelled at you like that before, with purpose laced in a hurtful anger. He couldn’t understand why you would risk your life for his and you couldn’t understand why he thought his life wasn’t worth saving.

His hand fingers clung at your arms shaking at you for some realization at how stupid what you did was. “I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if you had died back there,” he was never angry he was afraid, the few moments where he thought you were dead was the most pain and fear he had ever felt.

He was breathing but it was to much air yet too little, the few minutes felt liked pain staking hours. He didn’t want to look, he didn’t want to find your lifeless body in the rubbles. It made him want to throw up, the fact you survived and hadn’t been torn to shreds was a damn near miracle.

The team was in a frenzy trying to find you within what was left of the building. But there he was frozen in fear, a terrifying stillness he hadn’t felt since the day he lost his family. They talked and talked, loud footsteps shuffling through the place. Yet he hadn’t heard a single thing. His brain deciding not allowing him to hear was the next best thing.

All he could hear was ringing even a mask wasn’t going to hide the seeping emotions from him. He was cracking, breaking as each second past. He wondered what he had said to you last, he couldn’t recall. Was it kind words? Words that you deserved to hear?

And so he began praying, he had never asked for a single thing in his life. He never dared to but if a pray had even the smallest chance of saving you it’s what he would do. If you asked for the stars he’d give you the fucking galaxy. It’s all he wanted to hear the stupid whines he swore he hated, your complains and praise anything, just anything.

He’d say sorry, apologize for being so stupid for not letting you in. He’d say how much he needed you around what made black and white be painted in vibrant colors. If you just came back alive in once piece, he’d be there and he would stay.

Price had been the one to find you, alive and thankfully only with minor injuries. When he heard your voice it was like he could breath again, the air finally filling his lungs properly. His heart no longer beating at its confinements of child-like fear.

It was around then he realized how much he truly cared and it terrified him. He had faced many horrid things in life yet facing the possibility he could one day lose you seemed to be the hardest one. He had something to come home too. A comforting face that was happy to see him. You were waiting for him, wishing him well, wanting him to be happy.

Something that made it all worth while, something he had to lose.

He couldn’t protect you from every force in the world and he knew that but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. If he was going to care he was going to do it right, no cutting corners half assing the shit. In all honesty he didn’t fully understand what he felt he just knew he couldn’t move on if it meant doing it without you.

His love was unseemly, harsh but yours? Your love was beautiful, graceful as the sun dawning on a Sunday morning. A gentle love that picked up his inner child with laughs and smiles that told him he was going to be okay. The child in you healed his own finding the beauty in all the parts of him he thought were hideous. You were what made him want to live not just survive.

His arms wrapped around you in a tightening hug yet he had never felt more exposed. For the first time in the long time you’ve know Ghost it was like you were seeing him for the first time, you were seeing Simon. Ghost wasn’t the one hugging at you so desperately, Simon was.

You could feel the tremors as he held onto you like you’d up and disappeared. You froze for a moment unable to work through the millions of thoughts and emotions. A guilt washed over you, the feeling of his broken form cluttering yours and all you could mutter was, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head in silence, your arms wrapped around him it was a comforting hug one that felt like home after a long trip. One that you both needed even if neither of you had a home to come too you’d find one together. His thoughts shouted at him as if your presence wasn’t something he deserved but he had no intentions of letting you go. He’d just keep you close enough to protect you.

“Does this mean I get to call you Dad now?”

“No,” he groaned seemingly annoyed but you knew he was smiling even if you couldn’t see it. You snorted a bit the happiness dying as fast as it had risen.

“You can’t leave now okay?” You spoke quietly louder than the little girl in you who still craved the absence left by a family you begged for love. Love you never had to ask him for. There was a lot you looked up to him for, “as long as you stop doing stupid shit.”

“I wouldn’t say it was that stupid.”

“It was.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“I will put you on cleaning duty.”

“Fine,” you folded your arms sighing dramatically expecting another remark but he only laughed stepping back. Your eyes softened at the sound of it. It sounded like home with a warming welcome, yeah this is home.

[idkyetxoxo]

Five | Allure | The Last Kingdom

"One way or another, you will be mine,"

"The only way she'll be yours is if you can pry her from the cold grip of death, and even then, you'll find yourself in a fight you won't win,"

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Returning to Aethelflaed's estate in Mercia, I tended to my horse with the same care Uhtred bestowed upon his own steed. As Aethelflaed entered the stables, I stole a glance at her, then at Uhtred, and sighed before withdrawing to afford them privacy.

The intensity in Aethelflaed's gaze spoke volumes, she had succumbed to my brother's charm.

Seated on the ground, absentmindedly pulling blades of grass while Osferth and Finan honed their skills in the distance, a solitary figure on horseback caught my attention. Brida's silhouette emerged into view.

I rose, moving towards her as Uhtred joined me. Brida's visage was contorted with anger, her eyes ablaze with a raw, unfiltered fury. 

"What's wrong?" I pressed urgently. "Ragnar waited years for you both to return, only for his younger siblings to forsake him days after," she spat, her words laced with venom. "You should have left Aethelflaed to die," she cried out, igniting a pang of apprehension within me.

"What's happened?" Uhtred inquired, and the ensuing revelation sent shivers down my spine. "Ragnar is dead. He does not feast in Valhalla. Instead, he lies beneath a mound of stone. There was no honour in his death," she disclosed.

At first her words didn't quite register, but with each passing moment, the truth dawned on me. The weight of her revelation settled heavily, undeniable in the honesty etched on her face and the anguish in her expression. I knew without a doubt that her words held no deceit.

My body betrayed me, collapsing to the ground as sobs wracked my frame. My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst free. Brida's accusations blurred, her blame falling upon us for Ragnar's untimely death.

"He's gone, and it's my fault," I sobbed, my voice trembling. Uhtred knelt beside me, his anguish mirroring my own. "He's gone," I repeated, the words echoing in the desolate recesses of my mind. "He's gone because we abandoned them," I cried out, pushing Uhtred away with a force borne of despair.

"We allowed it to happen," I continued, swiping harshly at my tears. "It's not..." Uhtred began, but I shook my head vehemently, rebuffing his attempts at consolation. I lashed out, striking his chest repeatedly until someone pulled me back.

"Do not blame yourselves" Finan interjected, attempting to console Uhtred, but my anguish refused to be placated. I shoved away the others, refusing to accept their hollow comfort.

"It is our fault" I declared, rising to my feet. "I will ensure every man involved will be held responsible" I vowed, dismissing Finan's suggestion of Skade's involvement with a vehement retort. 

"We march to Alfred, and we gather an army in Aegelsburg. I will not rest until my brother's killer is brought forward," I screamed, my voice raw with anguish, tears streaming down my face like a torrential downpour. 

With every fibre of my being shattered, I pushed past the trio and strode away, consumed by an overwhelming sense of heartbreak and a fierce determination to avenge Ragnar's unjust death.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

The journey to Aegelsburg stretched across several agonizing days. Every fibre of my being urged me to press forward, but the relentless march of time forced halts upon us. Reluctantly, we paused, weary souls, seeking respite amidst the trials that beset us.

"Will you bring this to her?" Uhtred's voice cut through the silence, nudging a bowl towards Sihtric. The latter raised his hands in surrender, his countenance reflecting apprehension. "She hates my guts. She won't accept food from me," he confessed, a hint of resignation lacing his words. Uhtred sighed heavily, weariness etched upon his features.

"She hasn't eaten in three days. Everyone has tried. You are my last resort," Uhtred implored, his voice tinged with desperation. With a reluctant nod, Sihtric accepted the bowl, no longer resisting the plea that hung heavy in the air. With measured steps, he ventured towards where I lay amidst the grass, my gaze fixated upon the  darkening sky above.

"Here," Sihtric murmured softly, collapsing beside me and extending the offering. I turned away, unwilling to confront his presence. "Please," his voice pleaded, punctuated by a note of earnest concern. 

I drew a sharp breath, his words piercing through the veil of my anguish. "You haven't eaten, haven't slept, haven't spoken to anyone," he observed, coaxing me gently into awareness.

"I can't, Sihtric. I just can't," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's gone. My mother is gone. My father is gone but I remain, tethered to this realm as if the gods themselves delight in my torment," I lamented, the weight of loss bearing down upon my soul. His expression softened, an understanding gaze meeting mine.

"The gods aren't torturing you. They have greater plans for you," he reassured his words a balm to my fractured spirit. I drew my knees close, seeking solace amidst the turmoil that engulfed me. 

"You need to eat. If not for yourself, do it for Uhtred. He is consumed by worry," Sihtric urged, nudging the bowl towards me.

With trembling hands, I accepted the offering, the weight of sustenance a burden I could scarcely bear. "Finish that before Finan scours around for remnants," he jested, a fleeting smile gracing my lips.

"Sihtric," I called out, halting his departure. As he turned towards me, I felt the weight of gratitude pressing on my tongue, but the words remained trapped, unspoken. Instead, I shook my head slightly and murmured, "Never mind." 

A glimmer of appreciation flickered amidst the shadows that engulfed us. With a smirk, he acknowledged the sentiment, though it was left unspoken.

Upon our arrival in Aeglesburg, we were cautiously permitted entry by Aldhelm, Aethelred, and Steapa, albeit without our weapons.

I drew my sword and handed it to Steapa, who positioned himself in front of me, expectant. "I don't have anything else," I fibbed, meeting his scowl with a nonchalant gaze. "We both know that's a lie. You carry at least four different weapons on you at all times," he retorted, his tone stern. I rolled my eyes in response.

Reluctantly, I retrieved the dagger concealed at my waist and extended it to him. However, Steapa remained unmoved. "I don't have anything else. So unless you plan on conducting a thorough body search, this is the best you'll get," I asserted, my patience waning.

"Don't argue with her, big man. We both know who will lose," Finan interjected. Steapa, hesitatingly, allowed me to proceed, acknowledging the futility of further resistance.

"No one wants to experience the wrath of the little devil today," Sihtric remarked, his smirk trailing along as he followed behind us.

The summons to the witan, where Edward stood in lieu of the king, prompted my inquiry. "Has Alfred finally bit the dust?" I asked only to be met with reproachful gazes from Beocca and Pyrlig, to which I merely shrugged, unfazed by their disapproval.

Aethelflaed's report of nearby Danes, accusing Haesten of assault, incited further tension. Aethelred and Aldhelm's interrogation of Uhtred, suspecting his collusion with Haesten, only deepened the animosity in the air.

Alfred's confrontation with Uhtred marked the breaking point. 

"Ragnar is dead," I declared, watching as Alfred's countenance faltered. "My brother is gone, I'm sure it brings you joy," I sneered, my voice laced with bitter conceit. "The Dane army is now halved," I added, the desperation in Uhtred's plea resonating in my own heart.

Despite the raw truth laid bare and Uhtred's desperate plea, Alfred rejected our proposal. He then offered us the ambiguous refuge of outlaws under Aethelflaed's protection, allowing us to depart at will.

With raw, bitter truth and the searing fury of a woman scorned, I unleashed my condemnation upon Alfred. 

"Your dream of a united England will remain just that, a dream," I hissed, each word dripping with the venom of betrayal. "You are a cowardly king, unwilling to take risks and relying on others to pave your path to success." My words cut through the air like a blade, leaving no room for misinterpretation as I stormed away from the witan, knowing no words could assuage the gaping wounds in my heart.

"Well, Alfred surely felt the weight of your fury," Sihtric remarked, settling across from me in the alehouse with Osferth by his side and Finan at mine. 

"Uhtred has offered nothing but his unwavering support, and this is how he's repaid," I spat, my voice laden with disillusionment and resentment.

"I pray the gods grant him no mercy, for his path leads only to death," I confessed, the fervour of my words echoing the depths of my despair. Around the table, silence reigned, and all I could do was bow my head, closing my eyes against the tumult of emotions swirling within.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

As the haze of sleep lifted, I found myself roused by the insistent shaking of my shoulder. Blinking groggily, I peered through half-opened lids to see Sihtric standing before me. "What?" I grumbled, my voice thick with drowsiness.

"Edward has pledged his support to Uhtred. Expect an army at Beamfleot," Sihtric announced, his words snapping me to full alertness. With a sense of urgency coursing through my veins, I rose to my feet, brushing aside stray strands of hair that clung to my face.

"Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth have already departed they're convincing Haestan to fight," Sihtric continued, his tone brimming with determination. Without hesitation, I declared, "I won't waste another moment waiting. Let's move" and with that, I set off, Sihtric close on my heels.

As we joined the others, gathered in anticipation of Haestan's arrival, I couldn't help but inquire about the time spent in idle vigil. "How long have you been waiting?" I queried, drawing my horse alongside Uhtred.

"Half a day," came his weary response, prompting a resigned sigh to escape my lips. Dismounting, I allowed Finan to tend to my steed, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Why wasn't I woken up for any of this?" I demanded, turning my gaze to Uhtred, who met my inquiry with a knowing look. "You hadn't slept in three days, and I could handle it," he explained, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"Well, then I'm ready to shed some blood let me have at the men whose greed caused my brother to leave this world thinking I betrayed him," I said determination in my eyes. 

"She looks like she's ready to carve up anything in her path," Finan muttered to Osferth, a wry smile playing at his lips. "I'd tread carefully if I were you don't let her mistake you for one of them," Sihtric added, eliciting a nervous glance from Osferth as he clutched the cross around his neck.

The tension hung thick in the air, anticipation mounting as the silhouette of Haestan's approach loomed on the horizon, signalling the imminent clash that awaited us all.

He finally arrived, accompanied by Skade and an imposing army. Uhtred's command was clear. Form two lines, build a shield wall, prepare for the impending clash. Yet, despite our efforts, the odds stood dauntingly against us. Our numbers paled in comparison to the enemy's, and the realization weighed heavy upon us all.

Haesten's offer of surrender hung in the air like a foul stench. "I would sooner face death's embrace and the halls of Valhalla than kneel before you," I retorted, my voice dripping with defiance. My gaze pierced through the ranks, landing squarely on Dagfinn, whose smirk only fueled my ire.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you," I growled, levelling my sword at Dagfinn, whose grin only seemed to widen in response to my challenge.

"I haven't forgotten about you either," he retorted, his voice dripping with sinister intent. "In my dreams, you belong to me, you do everything I desire," he added, his words laced with a twisted fascination. "One way or another, you will be mine," he proclaimed, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

"The only way she'll be yours is if you can pry her from the cold grip of death, and even then, you'll find yourself in a fight you won't win," Sihtric interjected, his voice a low growl that resonated with an undeniable authority. His gaze burned with an intensity that matched the fiery chaos surrounding us.

As the words left his lips, Sihtric found himself grappling with a profound sense of confusion. He couldn't quite comprehend why he felt compelled to make such a promise, especially for someone who, by all accounts, has considered him his enemy. 

Yet, in that fleeting moment, it felt unquestionably right, as if some unseen force had guided his actions and imbued them with a sense of purpose beyond his understanding.

Perhaps it was the shared moments experienced in the face of adversity, or the unspoken bond forging. Whatever the reason, Sihtric knew one thing for certain, despite our differences, he felt a newfound consideration for me and felt a desire to defend me.

With Haestan's command, the battlefield erupted into chaos. Men clashed with the ferocity of beasts, steel meeting steel in a cacophony of violence and death.

Every fibre of my being thrummed with a potent mixture of fury and rage as Haestan's men pressed their assault. The air crackled with the intensity of battle, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I fought.

Amid the frenzy of combat, a grim realization settled upon me like a shroud, our forces were being slaughtered, the men falling before the relentless onslaught of Haestan's. The bitter taste of defeat hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over our once defiant resolve.

Where was Edward ? Where was the promise he had made? The questions lingered like a bitter refrain, echoing across the blood-soaked battlefield, as I grappled with the harsh reality of our desperate situation. 

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

it's so hard trying to write his feelings because the whole story is written in the first-person BUT Sihtric realising a little something at last, it obviously isn't love (yet) but at least he knows he wants something😋 

[7official7moose7]

Here's a Chase doodle and some headcanons because he is seriously my favorite

He always has a pack of mentos mints on hand. No matter the circumstance, there's always mints in his pocket

I think its because he used to smoke cigarettes

He calls them "cancer sticks" now

Speaks pretty good english, but forgets some words/gets them mixed up and often just opts for replacing it with the French word

This is more common when he's tired or frustrated

Julia often corrects him with the english word he was looking for

"Miss Argent, could you pass me the- uh. The um. What is the word..."

"The white board?"

"Yes that thing. Thank you."

He's a bi disaster and didn't even know it until fairly recently (Ivy told him she was dating Carmen and it made him do some reflecting)

I honestly don't know if I hc him as trans or not, but I really love the concept and all the fanfics that come with it jgdgjhkdsh

Chase probably didn't have the nicest family

He has a sister named Angeline that he hasn't spoken to in like. Seven years or something

He rarely speaks about them to anyone, but when he does, it's either a very brief/vague mention or a whole oh shit that got real moment

Chase is very aware of his arrogant/egotistical tendencies, and he has a lot of guilt about it

("I feel like Im the worst so I always act like I'm the best" - Oh No! By MARINA)

He is very prone to migraines (especially after the truth extractor) but often works through them until someone forces him to stop or he is on the verge of Death Itself™

Same thing with sickness in general, despite taking days off with that excuse, you would never ever catch him taking an actual sick day off

He treats Zack and Ivy like his own kids despite claiming he's terrible with children

They get up to extremely stupid shenanigans and Julia is the mom friend that pinches the bridge of her nose in the background

CHASE DEVINEAUX PLAYS ANIMAL CROSSING AND SPLATOON, DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME

He and Julia both moved from Poitiers to San Diego to be closer to team red and ACME

They live in the same apartment complex, you can pry this one from my cold dead fingers

He's honestly just a silly goofy man with an unknown traumatic background fr