#also glad I did it because there are some details in the earlier chapters that I meant to bring up later but forgot about…..
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woke up in middle of the night and couldn’t fall back asleep so went downstairs for sleep hygiene reasons
You’re supposed to do something boring so I decided to reread the path to paradise cause like what’s more boring than reading something you literally wrote
An hour later I’m like, ‘damn. It’s like it was written just for me………. This bitch knows what is up…….’ And literally read through chapter 6 ☠️
#also glad I did it because there are some details in the earlier chapters that I meant to bring up later but forgot about…..#another shoutout to tptp the most woefully underrated fic I’ve written#simply too nuanced for the average audience I guess 👄💅#shoutout to the people reading you. you’re so sexy how does it feel to be smarter than everyone else#I joke of course………….#mostly
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Matchmaker
Chapter 18: Answers
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3rd's POV
Yujin had a plan.
She made a very detailed plan to ask you to the school dance. Long story short Jiwon was supposed to take you to the classroom that no one ever used with an excuse to talk about something important and there you were supposed to find chocolates and a note with a sweet love confession that she wrote last night and Yujin was supposed to come out with flowers and ask you to the dance. A very sweet way to confess plus the plan was easy but there was one particular problem.
You weren't at school that day.
When Jiwon came up to her during lunch and told her that you were absent, Yujin knew that her whole plan failed miserably. It took her everything in her to find courage to call you during one of the breaks to ask what happened and she was glad that she did because it gave her another idea.
Apparently you overslept quite a lot and you didn't saw any sense in coming to school for only three hours. Despite her first plan failing, Yujin decided not to give up and instead she made a plan B. Going to your house after school with the chocolates and flowers she prepared before and asking you out there. She told her friends about it and waited for classes to end. When they did Yujin quickly bid goodbye to her friends and ran out of the school and in the direction of your house.
She was thankful that she was a fast runner because it didn't took her long to get to your house.
There she noticed Wonyoung who also wasn't at school that day, walking back from your house and into hers, she looked quite excited and happy. Yujin felt the need to hid the flowers and chocolate behind the pot in front of your house and knocked at your doors. It didn't took long for you to open the door and smile at the sight of Yujin "Oh unnie, hi. Want to come in?" Yujin nodded her head and you let her in, guiding her to sit on your couch. You then quickly went to the kitchen for a glass of Yujin's favorite juice and some water for yourself before you sat down next to Yujin.
"Okay unnie, what brings you here?" You smiled at her and Yujin couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face as well despite the weird sinking feeling in her chest when she remembered that Wonyoung was here "Nothing much, just wanted to see you. By the way, what was Wonyoung doing here? I saw her leaving earlier" You took a sip of your water before smiling at the mention of your best friend.
"Oh Wonyoung? Well she came over around 2 hours ago and she looked quite nervous. She asked me to the school dance"
There it was. The sinking feeling from earlier came back again but stronger. Wonyoung? Asked you to the school dance? The same Wonyoung that said that she didn't had any feelings for you? The same Wonyoung who was so set on making you and Yujin a couple? She asked you to the school dance?
"And what did you said?"
She didn't wanted to hear it. Fear settled in her at the thought of you agreeing and going to the dance with Wonyoung, forcing Yujin to see you slow dance with someone else. She was scared that her own best friend could just steal your heart just like that.
"I agreed"
Oh.
You agreed.
You were going to the dance with Wonyoung.
You were talking about something but it didn't reached Yujin. The only thing that she was hearing was a very loud and annoying ringing as her mind processed everything. Soon Yujin excused herself with some weird excuse and left your house, leaving you there confused about what happened.
Running back to her house Yujin couldn't stop the tears that started falling from her eyes. Soon she changed the direction where she was running. She stopped near Gaeul's house and frantically knocked on it. She needed to see someone, she needed to ask someone about everything. She needed answers.
Since when did Wonyoung liked you?
Since when did you liked Wonyoung?
She needed answer but she also needed comfort and Gaeul was the perfect person to provide her with both.
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Summary: First love often didn't work out. That's what Yujin always heard from people but despite that she couldn't help but still hold on to her feelings from the past that got stronger when her first love came back to her life. Wonyoung takes on a job of a matchmaker, swearing to get Yujin and Y/N together but what if during it she also catch feelings for Y/N?
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Taglist (Closed): @awkwardtoafault @zhivaxo @pandamiswifey @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @pigeonoftheskyrat @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60
#ive x reader#ive reactions#iz*one x reader#izone x reader#iz*one reactions#izone reactions#ahn yujin x reader#jang wonyoung x reader#ahn yujin#jang wonyoung#ahn yujin smau#jang wonyoung smau#ive smau#smau
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I’ve reached Chapters 7-8 in my Persuasion reread, covering both the first (renewed) meeting and first (renewed) social contact between Anne and Captain Wentworth, and I put the book back on the nightstand after these two chapters because I needed to stare at the ceiling and scream internally. They contain, of course, some of the most famous/fateful passages in the novel, but also: as Austen shows us the awkwardness of these encounters, Anne’s yearning and Frederick’s resentment, she is simultaneously showing us how in love they were, and how well-suited, arguably, they still are.
I love Anne so much, and while she may be valued primarily for her usefulness, she is in fact an extremely passionate woman. (She’s also sad.) She is genuinely glad to avoid Wentworth and to be useful to her nephew. But she’s also painfully aware that she is “left with as many sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps, ever likely to be hers.” I can’t help connecting this to Lady Russell’s earlier reflection that she thinks Anne is uniquely well-suited by temperament and habits to marriage, to the life she would have as a wife and mother. Anyway. Then we get the first meeting, and poor Anne is so overwhelmed that she can’t take everything in. But after the fact we learn that, while she is barely absorbing the words and actions of those around her, she has also noticed, in some detail, that Frederick Wentworth is at least as good-looking as he was eight years ago. Anne. And it’s her perspective that gives us the “no two hearts so open” passage, in which she also reflects that they once would have found it “most difficult to cease to speak to one another,” even in the sort of social gathering where he is currently making himself so agreeable, and she is unobserved (except by him.)
Anne cannot reason herself out of feeling as strongly as she did eight years ago. But neither, we are allowed to suspect, can Wentworth, though he has convinced himself that is exactly what he has done. Our gallant captain is extremely -- not to say somewhat disturbingly -- good at turning harrowing, or at least dangerous, undertakings into fun dinner-party stories. But there is, perhaps, some bitterness in his remark that there would have been no one to think of him, had he been unsuccessful in outrunning a storm in an old and badly damaged ship. There is definitely a catch in his voice, a break in his thought, when he reflects that when he and Harville were chasing privateers together, only one of them had a wife to provide for. When he is forced to defend his "superfine, extraordinary sort of gallantry” as an unmarried man (drag him, Sophia), he is shortly afterwards impelled to rise from the sofa where he and Anne are sitting, and go definitely elsewhere. When he assures Admiral Croft that he was indeed grateful to be sent across the Atlantic in a ship classified as being only seaworthy for short distances and for a limited period of time, he all but confesses that in the aftermath of Anne’s breaking their engagement, he didn’t care whether he lived or died. And even in cheerfully telling his sister he is ready to marry, whether wisely or no, he defines what he wants in reference to Anne, whose equal (in his own opinion) he has never seen. Frederick Wentworth, you thick-skulled genius, get it together.
#persuasion reread#*chews glass harder*#frederick 'unconsciously nay unintentionally constant' wentworth everyone#and anne </3#jane austen#persuasion#this isn't even mutual pining; passionate regret and tender attachment on one side; simmering subconscious longing on the other#this... i...
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[Baldur’s Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 11
Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast
Title: Hell to Pay
Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it?
Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll.
Rating: M
Status: In progress
All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog.
Also on Ao3.
***
I honestly don't know what Raphael was expecting his first audience with Mephistopheles to be like, but the answer is still probably 'Not This'.
***
Despite Avernus being-- well, Avernus, Karlach had recently found it had a few features that made it… not too unbearable, all things considered.
First thing first, it didn’t make the engine in her chest overheat to the point of explosion, which was a plus. Until that tin can had started overheating in the Material Plane, Karlach hadn’t even thought she could count ‘my heart isn’t threatening to literally explode’ as a blessing, but there she was. Secondly, while being pretty much the definition of a hellish landscape and a near-infinite battlefield where demons or devils or both could show up any second, it had a surprising amount of deep, easily defensible cave systems where they could set up camp in relative - very relative - safety after clearing out of their occupants, which were generally either imps or hellsboar. The latter were pretty tasty roasted on a spit, too.
And third, of course, there was the company. She loved-- well. Most of the company.
The devil tagging along - who may not be a devil anymore on a sheer technicality but was still a fucking devil as far as she was concerned, the monster who’d tricked and trapped and tormented all the souls she’d spent the past weeks with and who of course tortured Hope for no damn reason but his own amusement - had been a surprise. And not a pleasant one.
If they really needed him she could bear his presence like she’d been able to bear Mizora’s at their camp half a year earlier… but that didn’t mean she had to like it. When her turn came to stand guard at the entrance and she walked up to him, she had to really struggle to ignore the urge to grab her greataxe and give him… just a little tap on the top of the skull with the blunt edge. But, as her greataxe actually did not have a blunt edge, she didn’t.
Instead she stopped a few feet from him, tilting her head to see what he was even doing. The box she’d thrown to his hea-- given him was open on the ground, the letter he’d been reading earlier folded and placed back inside. Next to it was the Spider’s Lyre, but the strings were gone and Raphael was tinkering with the black lyre that had been in the box. Karlach frowned, and stepped closer.
“The fuck are you doing?”
The only response she got at first was a scoff. Raphael didn’t even look up, still working on the lyre. “I may be consuming the souls of the innocent, or stringing a lyre. I’ll let your intellectual prowess lead you to the answer.”
Ah, the bastard. Good thing she was there to take his place watching out, because the idiot would probably get them all killed. Half an army of Orthons could walk past him while he was focused on the stupid lyre. “You’re supposed to be watching out for dangers.”
“I cast a glyph of warding on the ground just outside. If anything steps on it, it will trigger.”
Karlach rolled her eyes, and went to sit at the entrance as well. “Oh, great. I’m sure fucking glad wings are not commonplace here,” she muttered. “Does it trigger when flown over?”
“Do feel free to launch yourself outside and find out.”
“Don’t tempt me into launching you out.”
“Perish the thought. I’d hate to tempt anyone.” Raphael sneered, like he hadn’t tempted countless into far worse fates, still not looking up. This time, Karlach’s hands really itched to grab her weapon; still, she only glared… and saw something glinting at his neck. She recognized it immediately: the locket with the star-and-spire motif on it, the one with the miniature portrait. She sneered right back.
“Kinda brazen, isn’t it?” she muttered. “Wearing a portrait of your first kill.”
Raphael’s hands stilled for a moment, still holding onto the string he was fastening, and his features twisted… but then they smoothed over again and, with another scoff, he resumed stringing the lyre. Something about his calm demeanor pissed her off even more. Just earlier that day, she’d watched souls - people - she’d learned to know flee deep into the House, cowering as far away as they could from the foyer. They all trembled, some stuttered pleas to be left alone - any peace they had managed to painfully regain ripped away by Raphael’s mere presence.
His sadness, Hope had called the box, but he didn’t seem nearly sad enough, nowhere near as sad as he’d made countless souls over godsdamned millennia. Nowhere as hurt as the souls in the House of Hope had been, as Hope herself had been… as a kid called Enver Flymm must have been, not too long ago, trapped in Raphael’s own slice of Hell.
This bastard fucked him over, and Gortash fucked others over in turn. Fucked me over sure enough, sold me to a damn devil like he was. Maybe none of this would have happened if Raphael never bought him. He’d have never grown up in Avernus, never met Zariel, never sold me to her. I’d still have my own heart and I wouldn’t be here now. But he did and here I am, and this bastard was the start of it all. Gortash is dead but the devil is still here.
Unaware of her thoughts, and probably uncaring either way, Raphael just spoke again. “As you’re so familiar with the fate that befalls any mortal mother of a cambion,” he said, voice even, “you’ll no doubt know I had no awareness of what was happening, and certainly no intention--”
“What does it matter? The plague doesn’t mean to kill anyone, but it’s still the fucking plague.”
It was a cruel remark; heartless, some might say, and very fittingly in her case. This time, she hit a nerve. Raphael winced as though struck, and the string he was securing to the lyre cut deep into his hand, near the base of his fingers. He hissed, and let go of the lyre to grasp the injured hand. Blood dripped on his trousers, on the lyre; Raphael stared at his bleeding hand for a few moments before breathing out, somewhat shakily.
Karlach expected some kind of response - a temper tantrum, maybe, or a show of indifference again - but at first there was none. He wiped blood off the lyre as well as he could with a sleeve, put everything back in the box with one hand before he picked it up, awkwardly, and stood.
“I’ll leave you to be our guard dog for the night. I trust Zariel has trained well enough for that at least,” he finally ground out, and turned away without another word, back inside the cave, a trail of blood in his wake. Fitting, that.
She found herself staring at that blood for a few moments, and sneered… or tried to. She had wanted to get a rise out of him, but now the smile felt forced on her lips. Much like when she’d taken down Gortash, it didn’t taste like triumph. It didn’t taste like anything. She’d hit the mark and made him bleed, and he’d deserved it, yet it gave her no joy whatsoever.
Karlach sighed and turned her gaze to the burning skies outside, wondering if beheading Zariel with her own hands might, at last, do the trick.
***
“You’re wounded.”
“How very observant.”
“If you need healing--”
“Vis medicatrix.”
Ah, of course he could heal himself; Halsin had almost forgotten about it. He watched the cut on Raphael’s hand close up, and held out a clean towel when he began looking around for something to wipe off the blood.
“Here,” he said. He kept his voice low enough not to awaken the others, who were asleep a few paces away from the fire where he sat. He was not quite tired enough to sleep yet, and had been whittling away until Raphael had come to sit by the fire too. When he replied, his voice was almost as quiet.
“... At least it’s passably clean.” He took the towel somewhat stiffly, and used it to wipe his hands before he opened his box and wiped the lyre clean as well. Half the new strings were on, the rest yet to be put in place; it was easy to tell now how the wound had come to be. The lyre cleaned, Raphael turned his attention to the blood on his trousers and sleeve, nose wrinkling in distaste.
“Cold water,” Halsin, who was rather certain the devil did not know the first thing about laundry, spoke.
“... Excuse me?”
“To get those stains out. You’ll want to use cold water and soap, before the blood can clot.”
A pause, a small sound that may even, with some effort, pass off as a chuckle. “And here I thought a druid would be more inclined to use stains as an excuse to do away with clothing entirely.”
“I will not deny I find clothing restrictive, but--”
“I know someone you might just get along with.”
“--You do learn how to take stains out of clothes when looking after a few dozen children.”
“A worse torture than I ever could have engineered, and you do it voluntarily?”
Halsin chuckled. “I spent time untold wishing I had a chance to become a father. I am grateful to be one to so many, now.” A pause. “... I could help, if you’d like. With the blazer. Change into your camp clothes before the blood dries and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Suspiciously helpful.”
“If you’re wondering if it’s an excuse to get you to strip, no. I’d be far more direct, believe me,” Halsin quipped, and this time Raphael’s lips actually curled into a faint smile before he nodded and went to his tent to change.
It wasn’t too bad, really: the blood was still fresh enough that some cold water, soap, and a good rubbing did the trick. After putting the blazer to dry, Halsin was satisfied to see he got all the blood out. He sat back next to Raphael, and resumed whittling. “It’ll be fine to wear come morning. If… we can tell when it’s morning. Does the sky outside always look like this?”
“Yes.”
“And the natural the cycle of day and night--”
“No such thing.”
Halsin frowned. No surprise, he thought, that Karlach had missed the stars so much. “That sounds dreadful.”
“Some would even venture to say it’s hellish,” Raphael commented. He’d resumed stringing the lyre and, by the looks of it, he was almost done. “You do get used to it, though. Or it drives you insane, I suppose. But I believe our vampiric friend,” he added, tilting his head towards where Astarion lay, head resting on Durge’s shoulder, “has reason to prefer this to daylight, at least in his current state.”
“... He does miss sunlight. I can understand. I spent years as a-- guest in the Underdark.”
“I’m going to assume you were a guest the same way Karlach was a guest in Avernus.”
“More or less. I was not forced to fight, but--” Halsin paused, and cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll never forget the moment I stepped into the sun again. I hope Astarion can feel it again soon.”
“I’d focus on getting out of here alive in the first place.”
“Heh. Fair enough,” Halsin chuckled, and said nothing more. For a time, everything was quiet again except for the crackling of fire and the steady breathing of their sleeping companions, Wyll sleeping with his rapier close at hand and Durge and Astarion sharing a bedroll. Halsin was halfway through whittling yet another duck when he saw Raphael put the lyre aside, clearly having decided to wait until morning, or what passed as morning, to tune it properly.
“You should have some soup. There is just enough left.”
“I am not particularly hungry.”
“Your body needs nourishment,” Halsin pointed out. He took the last ladle’s worth of soup out of the pot, and into a bowl. He pushed it in Raphael’s hands without waiting for a reply. “Do pretend I’m a decent cook. I’ll consider this your thanks for getting blood out of your blazer.”
“... Mph. Worse deals have been made, I suppose,” was the response, and he did drink it down, slowly, staring into the fire as though he could see something in it that Halsin could not. Halsin resumed whittling and they stayed like that for another while, without speaking, each lost in their own thoughts.
Until Halsin looked up from his work to see that Raphael had fallen asleep, back against a boulder, the healed hand holding onto a locket he wore around his neck. In the open box, next to the newly stringed lyre, there was a folded letter with some dark splotches on it, as though something had dripped on the ink.
And it was not, Halsin could tell, blood.
***
Dearest Israfel,
I hope this letter finds you well, and that you’ll forgive me for using the name I’ve always known you by: it is the name your mother chose for you, with her last breath. I feel I’d do her wrong by not using it.
I hope the Hells are the home I know you always wished they would be to you, and that you never have reason to look back in regret. I wish there was advice I could give you, more than what little I could impart to you, but I am no devil and I am under now delusion that I may even begin to understand the workings of the Hells. But I do know you learn fast, and I trust you’ll do what needs doing to thrive.
I also hope that you did not take the few words I spoke when you left for coldness. There was more I wished to tell you, yet words failed me as they often do. There is a reason why you could talk circles around me since you were a boy of ten, after all. I had known the day would come that you’d be taken to your father’s court, and it still caught me unprepared. Until you can visit us, then, this letter will have to suffice.
There is much I hope you can find in yourself to forgive me for. Our time together was always meant to be short; I am but a human in his twilight years, and you are an immortal being barely at the beginning of life. However, I was foolish enough to shorten it further. Ten years you lived under my roof before I so much acknowledged you. It should not have taken me that long - should not have taken your mother’s features in your human form - to truly see you.
I’d have seen Dalah in you much earlier if I had. The penchant for rhymes, a sweet tooth, the way you scrunch your nose when angry. (I know it annoys you, when it’s brought up; you’re doing it right now, I am sure. For this, too, I hope you’ll forgive me.)
I saw her first, and only then did I finally see you. It was my failing, not yours. It was out of grief and guilt, never hatred, but it was a grievous failing nonetheless. In a different world, I would have been proud to call you my son. I am sorry this is no such world.
I hope I could teach you something of use in the few years we did have; for the rest, I hope you know Nan, and everyone else, loved you greatly even when I could not. They still do, and we all hope to see you again soon.
I took the liberty to send you a few things I thought you’d like to have - your mother’s lyre and her favorite book, and a locket with her portrait. Only once you’d gone I realized I never showed you a portrait of her, or even so much talked about her. Again, my grief bound my tongue, but it is no excuse. I did you wrong, and I hope I may yet have the chance to rectify that mistake. When you visit, we will talk about your mother.
Until then, I hope you are safe, and happy.
With deepest affection,
Rahirek.
***
By the time he stepped before the high doors leading to Lord Mephistopheles’ throne room, Raphael was certain of two things: he was not ready, and he was about to throw up.
“Lord Mephistopheles demands your presence,” he’d been told, and that was it. Five words to answer a plea he’d repeated almost daily for… weeks? Months? It was hard to tell, with each day exactly like the last and a perpetual snowstorm hiding the skies outside. The preceptor had taken him there and left , telling him he’d be allowed inside shortly.
“If he can even understand what you’re saying, with that dreadful pronunciation,” he’d muttered on his way out. “Speak clearly, or he may make a meal out of you. He does not suffer fools gladly.”
For his sanity, Raphael had decided to take that warning as an exaggeration, and gathered up the courage to walk closer to the doors behind which his father sat on a throne of ice. All that waiting, all that yearning, and here he was. He should have been elated. Instead, he was terrified.
The towering pit fiend suddenly stepping before the intricately carved doors with a mace in hand and eyes glowing like fire did not help, either. His voice was a gravelly growl, and he had fangs easily as long as Raphael’s forearm. It took him an effort to look away from those formidable teeth and into the fiend’s eyes. They were not a much more reassuring sight; knowing who he was did little to help.
“Who goes there?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
Raphael cleared his throat, hoping fervently that words would come out right, and bowed. “Duke Hutijin,” he spoke carefully, praying whoever or whatever could hear him now that he hadn’t mispronounced his name. “It is a privilege to meet you. My name is Raphael. I have been summoned by Lord Mephistopheles.”
A few moments of silence, but that mace did not come down on him, and Raphael supposed it was something. Another gravelly sound he identified as a chuckle, and he dared look up. Duke Hutijin had lowered the mace, and was leaning over to better look at him.
“Ah, the new one. Let me have a look at you.” A huge hand with a dagger-sharp claw lifted his chin, and the pit fiend laughed when he saw him swallow. “Fear not, I’d never spill my liege’s blood unless he ordered me to himself. And no such order has been given today.” A pause, a tilt of his head. Those flaming eyes stared, but whatever he thought of what he saw, he did not say. “Well then, go meet your father. Do try not to piss yourself, little duke. You’ll find him in a fair enough mood.”
Raphael wanted to protest at the insult, say that he was not that scared, but he could tell that talking back to what was probably the most powerful pit fiend in Cania - and lying to him to boot - would probably not be a clever course of action. So he lowered his eyes, nodded, and went to the doors. A touch on the surface - ice cold, despite the warmth inside the citadel - and slowly, they opened.
The throne room was so vast it may have felt as though he’d stepped outside if not for the domed ceiling above and the columns on both sides - each of intricately carved ice, and ice was the floor, the ceiling. Two pits opened up in the floor on either side of the throne; from one rose a column of roaring fire, and from the other a stream of swirling green wisps that, he’d learned, were mortal souls. They rose up to the ceiling and fell back down into the pit, slowly, endlessly.
And on the throne at the back of the room, beneath a banner bearing the sigil of a three-pronged ranseur piercing a halo of flames, sat Mephistopheles.
He was tall, more than any mortal Raphael had ever met, and of most devils too. Even if he did not tower the way Duke Hutijin did, Raphael knew this was but one of the forms he could take. This form of his was reminiscent of the portraits he’d seen of the Cold Lord, with deep blue skin so dark it almost looked black near the base of his four ram-like horns. The horns curled backward, golden rings around each. His hair was so black and so long it was hard to tell where it ended and where the void-black cape he wore began.
And there were the eyes, pale blue, fixed on him.
For a moment, Raphael forgot how to breathe. He’d imagined meeting his father since he could understand what a father was, and why he did not seem to have one. When he was very young, he’d imagined that a stranger would approach him one day at a crossroads - it was always crossroads, in the stories - to reveal himself as his father, tell him he’d come to take him home. Until recently he’d had no notion that his sire may be an Archdevil, and that meeting him would need to wait until he could find the time for an audience.
Now he had that audience, and his tongue was coated with lead. For a few moments he could only stare, heart in his throat, feeling like an utter fool.
He does not suffer fools gladly.
Panic reared its head, and still Raphael stood frozen on the spot. For a few moments Mephistopheles’ features remained still, his face expressionless… then, slowly, his lips curled upwards and he let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Maybe Duke Hutijin was right, and he was in a fair mood after all.
“You asked to see me with such insistence my own Consort requested I grant you an audience, yet you seem to have misplaced your tongue,” he said, his voice a pleasant baritone. “Am I not as you imagined?”
The calm tone was balm to Raphael’s nerves, and he finally managed to regain his speech. He bowed quickly, and deep. “My liege,” he said, and this time Infernal slid off his tongue with practiced ease. “It is an honor to stand in your presence. I deeply apologize if my earlier insistence caused annoyance.”
A hum. It sounded neither pleased, nor displeased. “You did not answer my question.”
Raphael looked up, and swallowed. He could feel the weight of that gaze, even as no true emotion showed on his sire’s face. “I have seen portraits, my lord, of this form and others.”
“Ah, of course you’d have seen those. Were you hoping to be met with the visage that most resembles your own?”
“I wouldn’t presume it’s my place to make such requests, my lord.”
Lord Mephistopheles tilted his head, just slightly, in what may have been an approving nod. “No, it is not,” he agreed, and lifted a hand to beckon him closer. Raphael did step towards the throne on somewhat shaky legs, gaze respectfully low, until his sire’s voice rang out again. “That’s close enough.”
Standing between the column of fire and the column of souls, Raphael dared look up again. Lord Mephistopheles was looking down at him, eyes narrowed. When he spoke again it was still in that calm, even tone. “You’ll have to remind me - where and when was it I sired you?”
“In Tethyr, sir, just over thirteen years ago. My mother’s name--” he began, only to be silenced with a chuckle and another wave of that hand, as though to chase a fly away.
“You can’t possibly expect me to remember the name of every mortal who received my seed,” Mephistopheles said, obviously amused. Like the mortal who’d received his seed hadn’t also borne his son, and died for it. “But where you were born matters not, as now you’re just where you ought to be. I have been told you have a proclivity for music and poetry. Is that so?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hm. Songs of praise are always welcome here, but I do have a High Cantor and more than enough musicians, so that skill of yours is of no use to me.” A vague gesture of his hand, that unnerving gaze still fixed on him. “So tell me…” a pause, a chuckle. “Ah, but I forgot. What is your name again, boy?”
Something sank in Raphael’s chest, cold as the ice around them.
You named me, he wanted to cry out. You took away the name my mother gave me to impose another, and still you can’t recall it?
Still, he knew better than that. He swallowed the ache, and tried to keep his voice as firm as possible. “You named me Raphael, my lord.”
“Very well, Raphael. What else can you offer to serve me?”
For a moment, Raphael found himself speechless, raking his mind for a response and finding none. What could he offer? He was well-read and learned fast; he had a good memory and, back home, people always said he could have sold ice cubes to Auril herself if he wanted. But with his sire’s gaze on him, he struggled to think of a way he could put those skills to use.
I can use hellfire, he thought, but he hesitated to speak those words too. Antilia’s voice rang in his head, the warning as dire as it had sounded when she’d uttered it.
Until you are certain of your affinity with hellfire, do not speak of it. Don’t ever tell them you used it entirely by accident. Go boasting about it, and you’ll be seen as too much a threat.
It seemed almost absurd to think, that Mephistopheles could consider him a threat… but Raphael had already heard tales, whispers, of how he’d destroyed far lesser devil for little to no reason but-- well, the word they used for it was caution, but the tone made the meaning clear enough - paranoia . Lord Mephistopheles could undo him with a word and, he saw it now, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
Maybe Lady Antilia lied, part of him thought. Maybe he would be pleased to know I can wield hellfire. She did tell me I shouldn’t trust her either. But to what end?
“Come boy, speak,” Mephistopheles spoke up, his voice now curt, and colder. “Surely, you would not have insisted on being in my presence without something to offer.”
The underlying threat was unmistakable, and Raphael swallowed before forcing himself to speak again. He could keep his voice from shaking, at least, and spoke in fluent enough Infernal as he lowered his head. “As of now, my liege, all I have to offer is my utter loyalty,” he said. “But I’ve been studying as much as I can, so I can find a way to serve you.”
“Mmh.” A pause, and he rubbed his chin. Again, he sounded neither pleased nor displeased; he was simply considering . “I see. I can extend you some grace, on account of you having but thirteen winters behind you. Still, my patience is not endless.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Many of my blood possess an innate talent for arcane magic. Do you?”
Raphael looked up. “Yes, my liege. I have been able to cast spells since I was--”
He had no time to finish the sentence. Mephistopheles gave a smile that did not reach his eyes, and lifted a hand. “Show me,” was all he said, and he snapped his fingers.
With a drum-shattering shriek, two imps leaped out of the column of fire, fangs bared and yellow eyes glowing with malice. One swung a clawed hand, and Raphael scrambled back just on time for the claws to miss his flesh and only tear clothes. He fell back with a cry, landing hard on the ice, head spinning.
He’s never been in a real fight before and, aside from the encounter with perytons not too long ago, he’d never struck anything but some targets the master-at-arms back home had set up for practice, when it had become clear he wasn’t meant to hold a sword. He’d been getting good at hitting those, but they were just that - targets. Static, and very much not trying to claw his eyes out.
With another shriek, one of the imps threw itself at him. Raphael cried out and instinctively held up his hands, grasping the being’s head to keep him away. Claws still sank into his arms, tearing clothes and skin, and… and…
Flames erupted from his hands and the imp’s head was all but gone, all burning flesh, scorched bone and brain matter as it fell back motionless on the floor. Raphael choked back a cry and tried to stand up, but he slipped on the ice and fell back with a grunt. Above him, there was a furious shriek. The other imp had lifted itself up in the air on tattered wings and dove down on him, fags bared, claws out, stinger dripping venom.
What came next was, again, pure instinct: he rolled to the side and, when the imp landed with a crack on the spot where he’d been until an instant earlier, he threw out a hand.
“Gela!”
In retrospect, it was a mistake: he was too close to his target, and the result was predictable. The ice knife hit the imp square in the chest and exploded in shards, knocking them in opposite directions. Raphael could hear the imp shrieking over his own cry of pain, shards of ice cutting into his arm, his shoulder, his face. He ground his teeth, tried to ignore the smears of blood his hand left on the floor, and lifted himself on one knee before looking up.
The imp was wounded, ice shards through its chest, but still alive. It writhed on the floor, features twisted in a snarl, glaring at him but unable to stand, to fly, to attack. It was defeated. It was helpless. It was weak, and Raphael had never hated anything more. He stood with a snarl, and again he acted without much thought at all. He lifted a hand and so did the imp, in a last futile attempt at a defense. It was an easy mark, now. One Raphael would not miss.
The splash of acid hit true, and the imp screamed. It was a cry of agony, and short-lived; it had been barely clinging to life, and the acid did the rest. The creature fell back, sizzling, and moved no more. The acrid smell of flesh melting away filled Raphael’s nostrils, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from the corpse. His wounds hurt and his heart pounded in his chest; still, he smiled. The things that hurt him were dead, and it felt good. He wished he could bring them back and kill them again and again and again, hear those screams over and over. He wished--
A chuckle snapped Raphael from his thoughts, reminding him where he was, and with whom. He looked up to see his sire was leaning his chin on his hand. “I would say that was adequate enough, for a halfbreed just plucked out of the Material Plane,” he conceded, then, “was it your first kill?”
Raphael looked up, still breathing heavily. When he spoke again his voice was rougher, honorifics entirely forgotten. “No. I killed a peryton, once.”
Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow. “A peryton? That is indeed a greater feat than defeating a pair of lowly imps. Perhaps I should have given you more of a challenge.” His lips quirked upwards, barely. “How did you kill it?”
Do not speak of it, Antilia’s voice rang in his head, and he didn’t. Not all of it. “Fire. I burned it.”
“And how did it make you feel?”
Raphael closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall. He hadn't truly realized he'd killed the creature until the screams died down, until he saw the corpse. Until that moment there had only been his stepfather’s heartbeat against his ear, the protective embrace that seemed to last forever. He swallowed. “Good,” he whispered. “It felt good.”
“And this?” A gesture towards the half-melted, charred corpses on the ground. Raphael looked at it for a few, long moments.
“It feels good,” he replied again, and it was no lie this time either. I wish they screamed more, he thought.
He expected another question, but there was none: just a nod again. It gave Raphael the distinct feeling he had passed a test of some kind; not with flying colors, perhaps, but he'd passed it all the same.
“I see. If you find no other way of serving me, you may serve well in the Blood War.”
The Blood War. Raphael had learned of it, of this endless war spilling rivers of blood, from devils and demons alike, every single day in Avernus. His preceptor had made a point to let him know many halfbreeds would go on to become cannon fodder in it. For all the pleasure Raphael had taken in this kill, the prospect of being sent to the front lines was enough to make him balk. “I-- my lord, I--”
“You’re wounded,” Lord Mephistopheles cut him off, and gestured towards the slow streams of souls, which floated up to the ceiling and then back down in the pit. “You may consume a soul, if you wish.”
Raphael stared at the souls, stepped closer, and held out a hand. They were incorporeal, of course; faintly glowing wisps, all that remained of mortal beings. There was a faint warmth to them as they weaved through his fingers - each of them once a mortal life, swayed or tricked into becoming this, the most sought-after resource in all of the Nine Hells.
“Souls,” Raphael whispered, and finally looked up. “I can-- I will get you souls, my lord. I know mortals, I know how they think. I can learn all I need to learn about contracts. This is how I can serve you.”
A nod. “Ah, yes. Your kind often has a queer attraction towards mortals. It places you well to procure souls, if you’re clever enough.”
They said I could sell ice to Auril herself, Raphael thought. I am clever enough. I can be of use. I can make you proud.
His path forward now clear, Raphael breathed more easily. He turned his attention back on the souls dancing around his palm, focused on one, and willed it to come to him. No one had ever instructed him as to how to consume a soul, but it came as naturally as magic ever did. He breathed in deeply through his mouth and it flooded him, cool and soothing and electrifying at the same time - healing his wounds, feeding his powers, amplifying his senses. When he tore out the last shard of ice from his shoulder, Raphael felt no pain. There was only that sense of euphoria, the clarity that comes with finally seeing a path ahead after wandering blind for so long.
Above him, unseen, the Lord of the Eighth bared his teeth in a smile.
***
“In my world there is order, he said!”
“I specified I was talking about my--”
Raphael’s protest was cut off by Karlach’s cry as she swung her axe, cutting a spinagon in half and sending its blood and guts to spray across the ground and, well, across Astarion. Who, as a response, only yelled louder, just as he drew his bowstring to put another arrow through an imp. “WE BRING THE CHAOS OF OUR WORLD IN HIS, HE SAID!”
“I WAS TALKING ABOUT MY HOUSE!”
“YOU ARE NEVER GETTING TO-- ah, nice shot, love, thank you-- NEVER WHINE ABOUT CHAOS IN THE MATERIAL PLANE AGAIN, DEVIL!”
Raphael snorted, and cast a cloud of daggers that annihilated a pair of nupperibos before they could so much as attempt an attack at Halsin’s unprotected back. The only surviving nupperibo of the trio was promptly blasted back by Wyll, into a pit of boiling tar, and didn’t resurface again.
“This entire layer is a battlefield and I would have stopped all this with the crown, spawn!” Raphael snapped, glaring at Astarion and entirely missing the spinagon trying to dive on him from above.
Durge groaned, and dispatched it with a ray of frost before speaking. “I don’t think this is the moment to air grievances--”
“This is your doing and I’ll air all the grievances I please!”
“Oh please, let me cut him in two.”
“No, Karlach," Durge muttered, and to their relief she went to cut an imp in two instead.
All things considered, they had to run into devils or demons sooner or later; it had been a small miracle that they’d been able to go from the House of Hope to the cave they’d chosen to rest the previous night without meeting anything but a couple of hellsboars. Raphael was right when he described Avernus as one huge battlefield, and running into foes soon after setting out for the day's march was perhaps inevitable.
Luckily, they were all rather weak. Unfortunately, there was a swarm of them.
“We’ve been pretty lucky we didn’t run into these while next to that lake of lava!” Wyll yelled over the screams of a couple of spinagons trapped within the blackness of a Hunger of Hadar spell. “That would have made a dismal battlefield.”
“Oh, how lucky that we’ve met them in the middle of these delightful pits or tar and quicksand instead!” Astarion yelled, and drew his bowstring again. The arrow found its target in the throat of yet another spinagon just as Durge’s frost breath downed a couple of imps. “What were you planning to turn this spot into, Raphael? An archdevil resort?”
Raphael scoffed, downing another imp with an admittedly well-placed ice knife spell. “I’ll have you know that before the Blood War, this layer was the most wondrous thing you’d ever set your eyes on!”
Astarion laughed, almost dancing under an imp’s swing of a scimitar before gutting it with a single, swift strike of a knife. “Gods, are you that old?”
“It is a well known fact for anyone with even a modicum amount of knowledge, and I’d have restored its former glo--”
“FIREBALL!”
Halsin’s warning cut through the sulfur-saturated air, through the shrieks and clangs of the battle. Durge looked up to see that indeed, one of the fireballs that were ever streaking Avernus’ sky had taken a sharp turn downwards and was coming… directly at them.
“Shit-- we got to take cover!”
“I’ve got this - get over here, everyone!” Durge called out, and lifted a hand. “Veni et iuva me!”
The Globe of Invulnerability shimmered into being around them, and Astarion immediately leaped in. Raphael and Halsin were quick to follow, though Halsin took a moment to create a gust of wind to knock back the spinagons trying to follow.
“Oh that’s a handy one!” Karlach laughed, nearly barrelling right through the globe and skidding to a halt just inside it. “Both the globe and the fireball, I mean! There was this one time we were in deep shit, fuckers everywhere, but then this fireball came down and fried them. Remember, Wy-- Wyll?”
With a sense of dawning horror, they all looked back to see that Wyll was some distance away from the globe, one leg stuck in quicksand up to his knee, struggling to pull free while the fireball plummeted down towards the ground.
“Shit! No! Wyll!” Karlach cried out, and tried to run out towards him. Tried to, because they all could tell there was no way she could get to him and back on time, even if she could pluck him out from the quicksand at the first try. If she went, the fireball would strike both. Durge, Halsin and Astarion held onto her as one, and even then they struggled to hold her back.
“Karlach, wait!”
“Karlach, no!” Wyll cried out. “Stay back! Please, keep her back!”
A scream, holding all the anguish in the world. “No, no, no! Let me go! Wyll! WY--”
“MOVE ASIDE!”
Raphael’s voice was a roar, loud enough to drown out Karlach’s own screams. He stepped forward, almost to the edge of the globe, taking the lyre off his back to play a few notes on it, eyes fixed on Wyll. And gods, it worked: the next moment Wyll, with a grunt of effort, was able to free his leg from the quicksand. He stood, and lifted his hands to cast; Durge could recognize the gesture to cast a Dimension Door, and it was the last thing they could see at all before the fireball became too close, its light too bright, and they had to close their eyes.
“Quod dico face!” Wyll cried out, then for a time Durge could hear nothing else: the explosion was loud enough to cancel out all other noise. Around them, the world shook, stone shattered, enemies burned. Even within the globe they were thrown to the ground, trying to cover mouths and noses to keep out dust and debris with varying degrees of success.
When the dust finally began to settle and they could blink their eyes open they were still beneath the globe in the middle of a smoldering crater, faces and clothes black with dust but still all in one piece.
And among them, grinning widely, half-drowned in Karlach’s embrace as he made no attempt to pull away, was Wyll.
“Wyll! Are you all right? Are you wounded?”
“I’m good, really! Only thing that’s wounded is my pride.”
With a sigh of relief, Karlach pulled back. “Oh, thank the gods.”
Another laugh. “Afraid I’ve got to thank the devil for this one, don’t I?” He turned to look over at Raphael, who was still coughing while Astarion helped him back on his feet. “That was bardic inspiration, then? Never been on the receiving end of it before. Not bad at all.”
Another cough, and Raphael rasped out, “I told you I have no need to wield a toothpick in battle, did I not?”
Durge had no idea what that was about, but it made Wyll laugh. “Ah, I suppose you really don’t. Your spells do serve you well enough, point very much taken. Thank you for saving my skin.”
“Yeah, that was-- good thinking,” Karlach muttered, crossing her arms and looking awkwardly to the side. Her compliment, half-hearted as it was, seemed to give Raphael pause, but in the end he scoffed and said nothing.
“Well!” Astarion spoke up, clapping his hands once to break the sudden silence. “Here we are! All in one piece, enemies vanquished, ready to celebrate before we get going again. And I think we could all use a shower right about now. Halsin, if you please?”
Rainfall in Avernus had to be a rare thing indeed - a never event, most likely - and Durge enjoyed every second of it. As they glanced to the side they noticed that so did Raphael, eyes shut and face tilted upwards, palms up as though to welcome the rain.
***
[Back to Chapter 10]
[On to Chapter 12]
[Back to Start]
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#the dark urge#raphael bg3#astarion ancunin#halsin bg3#wyll ravengard#karlach bg3#haarlep bg3#bg3 raphael#bg3 astarion#antilia dnd#mephistopheles dnd#raphael the cambion#hell to pay
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Idk if you’ve answered this question (sorry if you have) before, but how do you think Renji & Rukia first met ? What do you think their life was like originally before Soul Society ?
Pardon me if I'm reading this wrong, but...Rukia and Renji's first meeting is enshrined pretty thoroughly in canon? She rescued him from a water heist that was about to turn disastrous.
This is from Chapter 98/Episode 32: A Star and a Stray Dog, which is the first place you should be looking if you're interested in pre-canon Renruki lore.
As to the second part of your question...you mean before they died? What sort of lives did they have in the World of the Living?
I'm gonna pontificate, so I'll throw that under a cut
First off, I am fascinated with the fact that Kubo gives us nothing about what anyone's living life was like. On one hand, I would like to know everyone's pre-history, but on the other, I'm glad he didn't, like as a literary choice. The slate is supposed to be wiped clean. It doesn't matter. It's maddening, but also correct.
It's also one of those places that is just ✨fanfic free real estate✨ in terms of I think everyone should make up their own version for their blorbos, so of course I have them for Renji and Rukia. I have absolutely nothing to support these, they are just what I felt in my heart.
I have actually talked about Renji's beforedeath quite a bit, here and there in various fanfics, usual under the conceit that, particularly in their Inuzuri days, he would sometimes blurt out some half-remembered thing and then promptly forget it again. Here an excerpt from Chapter 3 of go places:
It’s an Alive Memory, Rukia is nearly certain. Most souls get them. All the boys did, from time to time. To Renji, it’s just brain dust. Whatever it is in Soul Society that makes people forget their lives also makes this memory detritus slippery to hold onto. Renji won’t think of this later, or attach any importance to this conversation. The funny thing is, after ten years of watching him stumble through these moments, Rukia probably has a better idea of what Renji’s life was like than he does. He lived on a farm of some sort. A small one, or at least his family grew a lot of their own food. He died of a fever. Nearly all of his Alive Memories involve his mother. Rukia is almost positive that Renji’s mother is the one who taught him to write. The sewing scissors were likely hers. In Rukia’s imagination, Renji’s mother is very tall and beautiful and kind. Rukia doesn’t need to use her imagination to know that Renji loved his mother very much.
Just to offer a little more detail--doing the math out, where Bleach starts in the early 00s, Rukia and Renji have been separated for 40 years and knew each other for 10 years before that, it would make a lot of sense for both of them to have died in WWII. However, I like to think that time is very wobbly, especially in the outer Rukon, so I like to make their deaths a little earlier-- specifically, I think that Renji died in the 1918 flu pandemic, which may have contributed to getting a plague spirit for a zanpakutou. That being said, my general vibe for his childhood is based on Kanta, the neighbor kid from My Neighbor Totoro, which takes place in the 50s. In any case, he had a pretty small and unremarkable life in rural Japan, aside from the fact that he was loved very much, which will never be unremarkable, no matter how common it may be.
I have written less about Rukia's beforedeath, mostly because she was too young when she died to have any phantom memories. [Note: I know there are some theories out there, based on some arcane clues that Kubo has dropped that Rukia may not actually be a normal soul and may be related to Hell. That's...fine. While I'm never going to say no to a storyline that centers Rukia, I really do hope that it comes to naught. Ichigo has enough Crazy Origin going on and I like the Rukia's backstory the way it is, so I'm just going to ignore all of that for the sake of this post]. Ahem! So, infant death is not anything surprising, or even really interesting, but what makes Rukia's kind of compelling is the fact that her much-older sister died at the same time. To me, this indicates either a natural disaster or a death-by-violence.
As I said above, there are infinity ways you can go with this, but to me, there were two important things I wanted to capture 1) given Renji's descriptions of Rukia having an inherent grace and nobility, and the idea that something about Hisana caught Byakuya's eye, I thought that maybe they should have been noble, and 2) I wanted them to live by the sea. I do not actually remember how I landed on this, but in the 1850s, a bunch of sea fortresses were constructed to protect Japan by attack from sea (see here for more detail). This was the tail end of the Edo period and I liked the idea that maybe Rukia came from an old samurai family, and her father was sent to oversee one of these coastal forts. Did they die in a bombardment? A bad storm? The Kanto earthquake? I never got that far. I'm not even sure if this is a realistic scenario, if they had civilians living there, etc, this was just a half-thought-out thing I came up with for a bonus chapter of a fanfic that someone requested once. The one other detail from that that I came up with and stand by is that I think there were more siblings in their family between Hisana and Rukia. I also like that this idea that makes Rukia somewhat older than Renji, even though the math is impossible and the points are made up anyway.
#rukia kuchiki#renji abarai#beforedeath is a great companion word to afterlife which i just made up for this post but i hope it catches on
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Being sick for the past week meant that I had nothing better to do today than lay in bed and refresh tumblr waiting for chapter 34, and seeing it at the very top of my dash was the highlight of my day! The wait was definitely worth it, my health for the duration notwithstanding lol
SPOILER WARNING FOR PAST CHAPTERS IDK HOW TO PUT READ MORES IN ASKS I'M SO SORRY
You made the right call taking the extra time to edit this doozy of a chapter—figuring out how to share Dale's exposition in a way that made sense and fit into the events of the story while maintaining tonal consistency must have been quite the process, between the restrictions of Sana's POV, regency genre conventions, and the story's (heh) natural climax being Dale's identity "reveal" followed by the wedding. I'm very curious if you currently have any ideas for how you're going to tackle this exposition in the novelization, or if you're inclined to handle it differently at all!
@weasellyferret
i hope you're feeling better! i'm so glad you enjoyed the new chapter!
i hav no idea if u can even put a read more in an ask anymore and i can't hide it now but my answer will be under the read more
thanks! i think some people really underestimate how helpful even self editing is to make things coherent, especially for a long chapter like this one that covered so much but also was literally just two ppl talking to each other (ppl lov to say they'll take any update, but lik, thats cuz they dont knooow lol and i dont just want it to b passable, i want it to b good).
with lore/backstory like this i also have to make sure it makes sense to readers who havent read any of it before nor know any of the even more info that I know because there's even more worldbuilding and dale backstory that wont end up in the story.
i'm glad u think i pulled it off to any degree because i was still pretty nervous when i was posting it that it did make sense, fit in the world, was followable, interesting but not just exposition monologue, etc
yeah, chapter 30 where they have the reveal convo is the primary climax of the story and that's also 'just talking' in a sense so its interesting to write this story in that sense lol
while i had the broad outline of the world and dale's backstory from the beginning (i did a little exercise where i sketched out a sort of Dale POV of chapter 6 to get into his mindset which was super helpful) as I wrote the story a lot more of that info became fully fleshed out/defined. so for the novelization, i'll probably try to work more of the info in earlier or have better allusions to it, which will make some of the info in chapter 34 more of a quick confirmation than the exposition itself
ie i might add a chapter with more detail on Sana researching with Dale's books that Bilmont smuggles and plant suspicions of what went wrong with the summoning; i might adjust the chapter after the attack to be more of a convo about the assassination that the grandparents interrupt where Sana can suspect more of Dale's past etc and generally spread out what i can so its more foreshadowed/natural - things like that
other aspects sort of have to be told to Sana because its POV limited, evn when it is updated to 3rd POV. i'll probably do a straight POV swap and minor edit ; then take a look at it as a whole, reassess things on my own, run those ideas by some writer friends/betas and get their thoughts, and finally my editors (who i used for DSM) are also very good with making sure worldbuilding fits in right and so their advice will be helpful - especially since they will only get the draft i giv them without knowing how it was and what changed etc
once chapter 35 is out (which i'm still writing because smut is a challenge to right and i write it more slowly than other things) i'll start slowly editing and passing along to betas the rest of the story (i've got thru chap 11 done and betas who only read those and who are chomping at the bit - u think u've had a long wait? lol) but it will be spring by the time i do any big edits/revisions and then i'll giv it to the editors, who i already lik, semi-lined up for that time period and idk how long they will take because its a long book and then i'll need to process their edits too so it'll be a lengthy process, but i hope everyone knows it will 100% b a novel and i hope they enjoy it!
now back to stabbing away at the smut writing ;)
#asks#writing asks#story asks#nothing's wrong with dale#worldbuilding#exposition#backstory#lore dump#editing#my process?#lol idk - i think i went on for too long#hope someone finds this interesting#especially u#weasellyferret
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I know you have pretty much the entire story outlined for TGW so I’m not sure if you even gave much thought to this, but even if you didn’t, it’s still fun to think about ‘what ifs.’
I’m gonna split the questions up into multiple lines so it’s easier to read. It’s also been a couple months since I read this part of the story, but I was thinking about it earlier and with the new chapter posted I feel like picking your brain a little. So fair warning, some details might be off.
When Hayley offered to erase her memories of Elijah, was there any moment where you thought about actually having Hayley go through with it/Jackson not stop Klaus?
What would you have had Elijah’s reaction been like of finding out her memories of him were gone?
Would Hayley still interact with the other Mikaelsons as much?
Do you think Hayley would have fallen for him all over again had he’d actually gone back to New Orleans for good?
Would Hayley’s actions of been any different to the point Jackson knows she’s significantly different? Would he have felt guilt?
Would Klaus of been able to sit around and watch Elijah hurt, knowing he has the power to give Hayley her memories back? Or would he give her memories back even with Elijah telling him not to?
Would there be any situation that Hayley gained her memories back even without Klaus telling her to remember?
Would Hayley have kept on the bracelet that Elijah gave her?
Some other things that have absolutely no correlation with anything above.
I assumed you wouldn’t kill off cami just because of things you’ve said in other posts, but I wasn’t really sure of how just because of familial ties being required for the bind. The way you did it was absolutely perfect, but why doesn’t Cami also have to be at least part wolf for the unification to work? Given the information from Hayley and Jackson’s wedding, I thought both people had to be apart of the same pack. Im definitely just forgetting something.
Given you’re already planning a sequel(s), I’m assuming Elijah and Cami will both be fine eventually. If you don’t put it in the main story, can you please write an outtake of everyone throwing a huge party for cami and Klaus?
Are you planning the sequel to follow the basis of season 4 (moreso the hollow)? Or are you going a different route entirely?
Last question, wow this was a lot. Since you unified Klaus and cami, if Hayley and Elijah ever get married, will they also do the unification ceremony? It’ll make them stronger, so I don’t see why not.
I probably should’ve split this into two different asks, but honestly, I’m too lazy to do that now lmao.
This will have many spoilers for The Great War. If you are not fully caught up until today's new chapter, go catch up first!
Hi! Firsts, thank you for reading! I'm glad you are enjoying it.
I do tend to think about 'what ifs' a lot with this story. I've had most of it worked out in my head for so long and for the most part when I write, it goes in that direction, however sometimes side stories do sneak up on me and I have to figure out how to write them in or if I even need to include them. That's kind of what happened with the chapter where Hayley offers to compel away her feelings for Elijah.
This was always going to be a haylijah endgame and I didn't want to kill Jackson so I needed them to end someway and I wanted it to be on Jackson's terms. I always felt like Jackson's character was used as a place holder in the show rather than a character (which is why I never really liked the character), so I wanted to give him his own autonomy outside of just being an obstacle. I also hated how in the show Hayley doesn't have a backbone when it comes to Jackson. She never sets boundaries or stands up for how she is feeling. She essentially gives up her power over the pack and becomes his figurehead queen rather than the Hayley we know and love.
So in order to improve all of that, Hayley had to learn to stand up for herself and Jackson had to learn how to communicate. Meaning we needed an event that would push both of them out of the passive comfort they had fallen into after the unification ceremony. Jackson is angry about how Hayley feels about Elijah and Hayley had repeatedly told Jackson that she couldn't help how she felt in the show and then it dawned on me that, in this world, she can. We saw Elena do it with Damon. This led me down a completely different path than I had originally thought because I asked myself all of the questions you asked. I ended up not going down that path cause we were already 28 chapters in and it would have taken up so much time to get us there and back.
I also just don't think Jackson would ever actually let Hayley go through it. Say what you will about Jackson, I know I do, but he did love Hayley. He didn't always understand her but he wouldn't want her to love him simply because she forgot about Elijah. He wanted her to love him and move on from Elijah herself. And when he realized she never was going to, he decided he needed to move on.
All of that to say, I did debate going down that road but I thought it would be out of character for Jackson and any of the Mikaelsons. I never liked how quickly Rebekah and Klaus got onboard with the unification ceremony and throwing a whole wedding in their home and Klaus inviting Elijah to it like he didn't realize just how painful that would be. But none of the Mikaelsons would ever help Hayley erase Elijah.
Now if she somehow convinced someone to do it, no one would want to tell Elijah. Klaus would likely tell Astra who would then have to tell Elijah. And part of Elijah would be relieved. At this point, Elijah is holding onto his part of the white oak stake in case he needs to take dramatic measures to save his family. Part of him would be relieved that there would be one less person to mourn him. But the other part of him would be devastated. He never anticipated being with Hayley any time soon, but, as Jackson stated, he did hope that they would have their chance eventually.
Elijah wouldn't have gone back to New Orleans because Hayley wasn't what was keeping him away. And he would need even more time away because seeing Hayley look at him without the affection he was used to would break him in ways he hadn't felt since Celeste's death. He would try to get back with Astra to help ease the pain which would only make her angry because she knows exactly what he was doing. It would be a mess.
In New Orleans, Hayley would still interact with the Mikaelsons. Her relationships with each family member existed outside of her feelings for Elijah. However, she likely would feel more pulled to the pack. I think Jackson would end up even more annoyed because Hayley wouldn't just be completely in love with him. I do think Hayley loved him but was no in love with him. Simply erasing her feelings for Elijah wouldn't make her be in love with him. I never felt like Jackson did much to "woo" Hayley. Like at least flirt with your wife if you want her to fall in love with you. He went from accepting that they were just marrying for political reasons to being upset that she wasn't treating it like a marriage. So they still had their own things they would have to work through even if we removed her feelings for Elijah. But I definitely think he would have felt guilty. He would have made her remove such a large part of herself after she already had sacrificed so much for her daughter and their pack.
If Elijah did come back in town, he wouldn't try to win her back. He would check in to make sure she was happy. But they would definitely have to interact at some point. They are still family. Hayley would remember Elijah, just not her feelings. But unlike with Damon and Elena, Elijah hadn't done anything to hurt her so she wouldn't hate him. He would just be a distant family member that she doesn't have any feelings for, one way or another. But like Season 5 showed us, the feelings wouldn't stay gone for long. Haylijah developed feelings for each other very quickly and when they met up in France, it just showed that it would happen no matter what situation they were in.
Elijah would of course tell Klaus not to give her her emotions back because that's what she wanted, but Klaus would argue it's not what she wanted, it's what Jackson wanted and he doesn't care about what Jackson wants. Klaus would 1000% force them back on her once Elijah was back. Or even before that if he felt like Hayley was making decisions based on her feelings for Jackson. I could see him using it to try and manipulate them.
I would love to say Hayley would gain her memories back just for seeing Elijah or some other romantic thing. But that's not how compulsion works. Klaus would have to undo it.
Hayley would keep the bracelet on and she wouldn't be sure exactly why, but it would feel important that she did. She would still remember it was from Elijah and the letter he wrote, she just wouldn't have the emotions connected to it. But she knew that Elijah would keep her safe and that would feel important to her.
I'm so terrible at trying to scare you all because I make it so obvious what parts of the show I can't stand and must change, like Cami's death.
I had to think long and hard about how they would save her. I wanted her to be in the Chambre, but like you said it required a familial tie and unfortunately, Cami is a bit short on family. But the Mikaelsons are her family. So I just needed to make it a reality. I debated a regular marriage but felt like that wouldn't be enough for familial magic, she needed to share blood, or in this case a heart. This is where I'm deviating slightly from the lore. The lore requires it to be alphas from different packs. And Klaus isn't in any pack so logically he can just be the alpha of his own pack. Now it working on a non-vampire is completely in my head and since it's a fictional magical world I can bend things to my will. I try to stay within the rules of the world (more than the writers do sometimes), but this one I can see working. We don't know much about the wolves spreading out, but we know the ceremony was used because packs developed different powers. To me, it would make sense that in the early days, the packs would unite with different supernatural creatures and that's how the packs developed different powers. How else did they become so different when they all derived from the same original pack?
Spoilers for the next story: We will get some marital party(ies). We have not seen the last of Klamille. I just couldn't do that.
TGW is ending in August 2014 and I will not be doing a long time jump like the show did. I hated that so much. They made a whole show about a magical baby and just skipped over the majority of her life. We will have a little bit of a time jump so we will be somewhere in 2015. More spoilers, we will see some crossover from TVD if that gives you any hints of what the story will be about. Also the name of the next story is "I Know Places." All of my story titles are based on Taylor Swift songs (I did that so long ago and have committed to it).
I haven't thought about a unification ceremony between Hayley and Elijah because I need to think through what that would mean to the pack and Jackson. It would give Hayley a boost, but would it sever any ties between Hayley and Jackson as co-alphas? To me, them no longer being married didn't do anything since the magic was already in place, but if Hayley then ties herself to another as an alpha in her own right, it feels like it would get messy with her ties to her pack since she is not an alpha by herself. If that makes sense?
I know this is long but let me know if I didn't answer anything or if you have more questions!
Thank you so much for reading my story! I truly appreciate it and love talking about it.
#astra erikson#elijah mikaelson#hayley marshall#haylijah#klaus mikaelson#tvdu#the originals#tvd#the vampire diaries#the mikaelsons#tvdu fanfiction#long live the mikaelsons#the great war wp#the originals fanfiction#tvd fic#tvd fanfiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction#ao3fic#wattpad#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#fandom answers#tvd anon ask#tvd ask#fandom asks#anon ask#anonymous#tvdu metas#metas
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HELLO, ITS CHRIXYTY FROM AO3!!!! i decided to make a tumblr account just so i can interact with you on here :3 why? because i can. dont question me. i do strange things sometimes. (a lot of the time) but dont we all?
(i was serious when i said i would stop hovering like a ghost and start interacting. you better expect a LOT of comments from me from now on BECAUSE I JUST NEED TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION.)
ANYWAYS CHAPTER 13 🙇♀️🙇♀️ THANK YOU FOR THIS WONDERFUL PIECE OF ART. THIS WHOLE FIC IS A MASTERPIECE AND I LOVE THE ANGST !!! (ESPECIALLY DAZAI ANGST 🤗)
like im not even joking no fic has ever made my heart pound every second i read it before...like literally nothing could be happening and my heart is pounding at 150 bpm like damn its so good you might give me a heart attack frfr.
chuuyas so dense but i can kinda get his point of view :( UGH the slow burn is just making me anticipate the moment he finds out dazai's his soulmate even more...(betting chuuya will punch dazai out of anger because he realises dazai did all those things to himself...and then he'll feel the pain from the punch and be 100% certain and will start bawling cause idk emotion overload?? i can imagine it but yea im yapping a lot haha)
OH AND HIS FRIENDS FINDING OUT ABOUT ODAS DEATH??? AHH
also it makes me happy when authors refer to the canon universe in their fics somewhere like when dazai called his friends his "little detective agency" like its a small detail but it just makes me happy.
okay im SERIOUSLY yapping way too much but i needed to get all this out somewhere. my bsf is getting sick of me talking so much grrrrr >:(
(permission to one day when this fic is finished print it all out and bind it?? so i can forever keep it as like a memento and pass it down to future generations so they too can appreciate this amazing piece of literature??)
wow i wrote a lot. if only i could write this much for my fic in such a short time during writer's block.
WAITWAITWAITWAIT. I NORMALLY TRY TO ANSWER THESE TOPIC BY TOPIC BUT BINDING. MY. FIC???? HELL YES YOU HAVE PERMISSION WHAT THE HELL??? THAT'S SO COOL??? if i ask very nicely would you make me one too..? I'd pay postage and everything 🙏🙏 i wish i had the patience to bind fics into books but it requires so much time and patience that I don't have 😭
My only thing I would want to say is that I plan on revising some of the earlier chapters where it doesn't quite flow the way the rest of the chapters do, so if I finish it before I've done that (which probably won't happen, but just in case), I would recommend waiting a little!
ANYWAY. making an entire tumblr acc just to interact with me here? ...that's dedication man🫡 I already said it but I appreciate EVERY comment i get so i will be waiting with baited breath after every chapter!!
Glad you're loving the angst tho, I'm having a lot of the time throwing dazai and chuuya into a washing machine full of stones every chapter. great character building.
The reveals are gonna be so fun I can't wait to write them honestly. I'm so excited!!! Still got ages to go tho, so strap in it's gonna be a while.
I ALSO LOOOOVE REFERENCING THE CANON WHILE WRITING. THE NYE FLASHBACK WHERE DAZAI THINKS ABOUT HIS CONVERSATION WHERE THEY WANT TO BE DETECTIVES. OMG. I WAS SO PROUD OF THAT. AND THE 'soulmate detective agency'.
Do not feel bad about writing a lot cause I loved reading this and responding and once again YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO BIND IT ONCE IT'S DONE.
#love talking to people#please keep yapping in my asks bc they're always so fun to read#bsd#ao3 fanfic#soukoku#soukoku fanfiction#bsd fanfic#silas yaps
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Made a lot of comic progress that I've been really proud of, but it's more on the technical learning side lol
Clip studio has some really seamless comic workflows built into the program, it's really nice
re-organized the Chapter 5 file from group folders
to CSP's webtoon template. I can swap pages around freely, batch save and export all the pages at once. Copypaste elements between pages with ease. so fucking good ugh. It takes more time to set up, but the payoff is incredible and I'm so glad I caught it this early. Plus the vertical overview makes planning compositions to the script so much easier, because it will be an accurate reflection of the comic when posted on ao3.
Looking at the old group folders again and man. This was definitely a pain. Fucken...hiding and unhiding folders and trying to imagine pages in a vertical layout. how tf did I live like this.
csp has a dialogue balloon tool that can automatically link the bubble to text where you can edit them together and separately. I took some time copying my cleanup pen's settings to the freehand balloon pen so it looks more in style
Also made a font for my handwriting, so it would match the style from earlier chapters. Just cleaner and more editable. Don't have to erase and rewrite so the hands get more drawing time. Nice.
I've had Lazy Nezumi for *checks notes*....almost 3 years now. It's a windows app that's for line stabilization but it's my go to for perspective rulers since it's so robust. I haven't actually used it as much until now. And learning how to do perspective manually actually helped a Lot in deep-diving into this program. So yeah, spend a week making boxes and cylinders with this app in csp and building things. (if you made it this far here's a bonus wip pep workshop. She had me watching a lot of interesting videos of things I did not understand)
Setup a whole bunch of auto actions for repetitive tasks. We'll definitely continue to add onto this as we go.
I'm also continuing to build up my reference library from the models in-game. There's so much and I am so thrilled about seeing all the models and bg assets in detail.
on the writing side, I've pretty much laid out the whole plot line and the important beats out. Have several pages of first draft dialogue for all of them too.
I am having such a good time! I love learning shit like this!! This year has probably been the most fulfilling year I've had artistically in a long long time--Thanks game!!!
(me getting lost in the sauce of detail work. "ah yes, THIS is my happy place")
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It’s been a very long week with a lot of stuff happening, so I didn’t have the time to finish the next page, but I did finally get ask responses typed up, so the inbox should be all cleared out again!
I haven’t really decided if/how I’ll work in town pets/slimes! They’re fun, though -- I might try to work them into the background in places?
To answer your question about Andrew knowing about King Slime, though- Andrew is very aware of what happened to his brother, and it’s stuck with him as a lesson about how becoming flippant or secure in your power can lead to something as unassuming as a few slimes being able to unexpectedly defeat you.
They relationship wasn’t always the best even back before all that, but they still cared about each other.
(And thank you! I will!)
Firstly: I’m glad to hear it’s gotten you back into your playthrough! I really ought to start a new proper playthrough this summer...I haven’t played a whole much since shimmer got added! And thanks for the kind comment on the backgrounds :) I can’t always put as much detail into them as I want to due to a mixture of time constraints and my general ability as an artist, but I do enjoy making them look nice.
As for the other NPCs: I want to get more NPCs worked in here! I honestly didn’t mean to exclude them, as I meant to add them into the backgrounds of earlier chapters where characters were walking through town or at the tavern. But again, due to time constraints, that didn’t happen, because adding in any additional characters to a scene just ups the complexity a ton. But others will be joining!
…You know what? Yeah, you’re right, hahaha! Spot on. Heather’s view of the situation was that she knows Andrew used to be much more of a traveler before finding himself in Purity Town, and she knows he’s under some sort of strange, magical curse, based on the strange circumstances under which his injuries appear and how difficult they are to heal. Andrew’s also generally quite knowledgeable about Hell and its workings -- putting all of it together, it makes sense that he once either went to Hell himself and was cursed by a demon, or maybe came into contact with a cursed item another adventurer obtained there, or similar (for obvious reasons, going to the Underworld as a living mortal is a big deal -- it’s dangerous, it’s deep -- but it’s not impossible to think someone, somewhere has done it).
Thus, kill the demon → end Andrew’s curse! It’s foolproof! Unfortunately, while it’s a theory that makes sense, it’s not quite so simple in reality.
Hahahaha, I would highly recommend you not think too hard about individual background objects…I try to keep things at least a little consistent, but it’s never perfect. I was mostly intending for Andrew to have just dropped the apple and knife on the cutting board, but then forgot to draw the cutting board. His counter is also rather barren/inconsistent/missing some things it should have. At the end of the day I only have so much time to work on backgrounds, and sometimes detail is lost.
Pshhhhhhhhh, hahahaha, I can’t imagine why! What a crazy coincidence...
1) It’s variable, but in the current day (that is, Terraria has recovered to the point of resurrection being possible) it’s fairly quick. Resurrection is a strange process, with the target’s life flashing before their eyes before they’re suddenly pulled back into a mortal form, and thus it roughly correlates with how long someone has been alive. It would take much longer to resurrect Andrew or the Dryad compared to, say, Becca or Heather.
2) It’s not an exact science, but those who are resurrected tend to appear someplace close to home. Not necessarily in their bed or something to that capacity, but always in the general vicinity. Their body doesn’t physically reappear until just before they reawaken, and it can be a disorienting process.
3) Relief, lots of crying. Resurrection isn’t unheard of, but is usually reserved for those who die a truly wrongful death before their time, local heroes, and Guides. It is never a given that someone will be brought back to life, and is in fact rather uncommon.
Those closely linked to Terraria are well-used to being tugged whichever which way for whatever business. Chris got it to a more extreme extent, with a strong pull and weird dreams, while someone who’s more in-tune to Terraria’s will such as the Dryad will intuitively know and follow.
Andrew didn’t have any particular business. Rather, he was pulled to go there, and when he came, he saw many potential reasons why, including the whole “cult” thing (and the Lunatic Cultist in particular), the local Corruption, particular placement relative to certain structures in the Underworld, and so on. He even went around the region looking for anyone who fit the bill of a hero, best he could tell, but found nothing promising until Chris showed up.
Yep!! At the moment I’m planning to introduce her in the next chapter? We’ll see!
Corruption isn’t uncommon, but there are few regions that are being actively threatened by it: it’s rather stable and reserved in its growth, so beyond encouraging folks not to go to such areas, it’s mostly ignored. Most patches are also relatively small; if anything, it’s a bit larger in the area by Purity Town just because the region is relatively unsettled and has been left unchecked for years and years.
There probably is some
Pre-Cthulhu/War, the Corruption was far more common and spread more aggressively, but there were also hundreds of Dryads who could cure it with a wave of their hand to keep it in check. That isn’t...really an option, anymore, for obvious reasons, but since with most of the ancient spirits locked away the Corruption isn’t nearly as dangerous as it once was, it’s not a world-ending concern by any means.
For why Andrew came to town, see a few asks above!
I’m not sure if I’ll have Chris go through all of the optional boss fights! Maybe in a boss rush montage? Ultimately it’s just a lot of time to dedicate to something, so I would prefer to be selective in what we focus on...maybe in an addition to the ficlets series?
As for your second question -- assuming slimes are able to channel magic/absorb the power of the things they contain, then I like the idea that they can specifically hold/maintain items in them to achieve a particular effect. Such as the Queen Slime with a crystal, and smaller slimes with creatures such as zombies. So perhaps he’s more so merged/been incorporated into King Slime? Very dead, but his abilities remain.
Take that with a grain of salt, though! It’s very late and I haven’t thought it through a whole bunch.
There’s quite a list to go through, including a lot of NPCs that I haven’t thought up a lot of lore for, but to generally summarize, it’s a mix of things! The region containing Purity Town (and a smattering of smaller villages within the different biomes) is relatively new, in the sense that it hasn’t had a significant modern settlement until recently. So most of the locals have moved there to get out of their hometowns, experience something new, and so on!
This is super kind of you to share; I’m super super happy you’re enjoying this comic so much! I’ve said it before, but like -- the whole point of this is me getting excited and having fun with my ideas for NPCs, so it makes me really delighted that other folks are enjoying it too.
I do apologize for being on and off with updates as of late, but I’ve been very busy with school. Good news is that the semester is over in less than a month, and then I’ll be fully free for the summer and can work on things more!
I genuinely am so excited for those two fights in particular. Lunatic Cultist fight will have so much in the way of complex angles and spell effects...I probably wouldn’t be able to make it happen tomorrow, but we’re still quite a ways out from there, so fingers crossed that by the time we get there I’ll have had plenty of practice with all of the other boss fights!
And then the WoF fight...considering how this whole comic started because I wanted to draw my favorite NPC (Guide), if you can imagine, that whole scene has been written and re-written and planned and added on for the entirely of the time I’ve been working on this comic so far, and I can’t wait to finally get to draw it.
We’ll be getting into this more soon enough! But the short of it is that he’s always had a bit of magic to him, got involved with the dungeon cult, fell in too deep, and is now facing the consequences.
As a side note, while checking over the Old Man’s wiki page I noticed that apparently he specifically can’t drown. I’m not sure if that’s intentional or just a consequence of how Terraria is coded, but that alongside the whole ladybug luck mechanic interacting uniquely with the Clothier/Guide is now one of my favorites of the “random trivia facts that have lore implications” collection.
Well, Chris knows that there’s something up with Andrew -- and from his talks with Malik/Heather/Becca last chapter, he knows that Andrew suffers from burns that are in some way strange/inexplicable, supporting the theory that Andrew suffers from some sort of curse. Everything beyond that is…circumstantial at best.
Beyond that, Chris doesn’t want to agree with Malik’s theories that Andrew is some sort of monster -- Chris has put a lot of trust in Andrew’s character since he’s following Andrew’s guidance through all of this, and agreeing with Malik would call that advice into question.
It’s also possible that there’s a fairly benign explanation for Andrew’s current behavior; he’s honestly not acting all that strange right now. All Chris knows is that Andrew left in a hurry earlier, didn’t intend to be out for so long, and didn’t expect Chris to notice, and while coming off the heels of the previous night it’s a little questionable, Chris is more concerned than anything.
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Oh my god…I just read chapter 12 and I CANNOT I REALLY NEED TO WRITE THIS ONE OUT 😭😭 CHIP IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS STORY BUT THE WAY THIS LITERALLY RIPPED ME APARTTTT THE PAIN IS TOO GOOD 🥲
Your story writing and symbolism never ceases to amaze me. The bits and pieces of significant object or events that references the earlier parts of the story and makes the pieces fall into place are so DELICIOUS like idek any other word for it because it’s just so *chefs kiss*
I’m just gonna point out a few I’ve noticed because it’s honestly wrecking me internally so much and I need you to know that 🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻💖
1) THE FIRE
The way demon Jungkook just spawns these little flames out of nowhere and MC is like ??? But it turns out it’s just smth he’s been doing THEIR WHOLE FRIENDSHIP TOGETHER AS A WAY TO CALM HER ANXIETY LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THAT ONE RUN ME OVER WITH A CROP DUSTER
2) THE VASE
that little vase that Taehyung gifted her after her miscarriage that she smashed 😭😭 why just whyyyyyyy stop making these little objects the cause of my mental breakdown (jk ily and your stories 🥺)
3) THE TREE SCENE
I’m not exactly too sure on this one tbh but that scene when she was in hell and weeping over the forest as she hugged the tree, was that supposed to represent the imaginary friend she had been talking to all along? Or did it remind her of them? But still the chills 😩 also I wasn’t sure if that little girl she saw in the tunnel was supposed to be some evil version of her daughter 👁️👁️ but also was her daughter actually her daughter or an Angel that took on the form of her daughter
4) DEMONS AND THEIR DEMON BUSINESS
THAT CHAPTER WAS JUST A HUGE RECALL TO AN EARLIER SCENE IN THE STORY, when demon JK made a deal with a woman but her partner ended up dying. It’s almost like they intentionally give them hope only to crush it and take it away from them, even more so because it’ll be too late and they can’t do anything having given their soul. The event of MC being cured only for her to become sick not long after and dying are literally paralleled with that woman, only with JK being the demon. But also FUCK Jisoo and that stank ass kid I could never be as kind and gentle as MC like YOURE ON YOUR MFKN OWN 👋
5) LUCIFER
The way I KNEW that he was gonna be the one to make the deal with Jungkook like THE SECOND THAT SLUT WALKED IN AND YOU DESCRIBED HIS TATTOO ANSJDJKFJF
5) THE KISS
oh god I saved the best for last… this one broke me because I KNEW IT I KNEWWWW THE SECOND MC WENT LIKE “is that all I get? ☺️” MY SOUL WAS GONNA BE BLENDED, JUICED AND THROWN DOWN THE SINK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 AND THATS NOT EVEN THE WORST PART, BECAUSE THAT DIRECTLY TIES INTO WHY ANGEL MC STOPPED DEMON JK FROM KISSING HER HOLY SHIT YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND 😭😭😭 THE WAY I STARED INTO SPACE FOR A WHOLE MINUTE WITH WATERY EYES 🥲🥲 her going “not yet” and him being confused asF. SHE WANTED TO BE ABLE TO FINALLY KISS HIM AS JUNGKOOK, HER LOVER, WHEN SHE SUCCEEDED IN REACHING THE FLAME
That took so much out of me omg 🧌 I really hope I’m not bothering you with my essays 😭 I typically do this when I read writings that have a lot of puzzles and important details like just add my little thoughts and things I love- there’s a term for it but it’s slipping my mind 😭 ty so much for gifting this amazing work of art for us to read 💖
HAHAHA I love how enthusiastic you always are 😭 it's amazing 💝
There's a lot to unpack here!! Let's do it^^
1. THE FIRE:
I'm so glad you picked up on that!!! LOL run me over too while you're at it 😭 🔥
2. THE VASE:
Yessss Tae's wedding gift 🥺 again I am so so glad that you recalled her smashing it 💔 that hurted me to write ngl 😔
3. THE TREE SCENE:
This is actually a really cool theory! The tree actually represents someone who committed violence against oneself. It's part of Dante's Inferno with my own little twist. Our lil angel just felt grief for the soul 💔
THE TUNNEL and BABY ANGEL: Again, another cool theory! The demon in the tunnel is just a demon tho! It was briefly mentioned on kookies 17th birthday that she was spooked in the woods. I didn't find it necessary to go all into that since it was just a ghost story that was explained in the tunnel :) Basically it was one of Apple's childhood fears that manifested in the tunnel 🥲
As for the two scenes with the angel that looks like Aera, it is her! Sweet baby girl is an angel now 💞😇
4. DEMONS AND THEIR DEMON BUSINESS:
Babe you hit the nail right on the head!!!! Ahhhhh I'm so so glad you mentioned it! I was hoping that came across, we'll get more into it in future chapters as well 😫 as for Jisoo, fuck that bitch. Her poor lil boy tho, hims didn't do nothin wrong 😭 but fair enough!!!
5. LUCIFER:
Yeah fuck that bitch ass ugly ass hoe 🖕🏻🤢
6. THE KISS:
STOP IT IT'S TOO SOON EVEN FA ME 😭😭
Thank you so so much for sending this! I truly truly LOVE seeing what you have to say and your theories and takes on different scenes, I always look forward to it!!
I hope you have the loveliest day 💖💖
ILY 🔥
-chip
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re: re: the love letter (details)
that quote is so good... but it's true... we're all haters.
hating danny is easy! you're right.. but i think that's why i love his character.. because... he's very obviously... seemingly selfish.. but that makes him human. especially when he tries his best to reason for all of the things that happened. and also the reader! and how you actively.. made them think thru it but selfishly still turned it back onto danny. (read, both danny and reader are human with realistic traits and emotions and i love it. oftentimes people write characters as one sided... so i'm just really glad yours have more dimensions!)
also i definitely don't view danny as an antagonist btw! i don't think anyone could be in such a story like this, but again... s'why i like all the characters so much. they all have their sides to the story. he's just is who he is. as the reader i feel like i should dislike him for what he's done though, especially when he asks the reader to.. keep it a secret??
and yes. leigh is. (i'm repeating myself.) selfish- i was gushing to my friends about this fic earlier before i wrote the love letter, i kept.. describing leigh's character in this as... bitter. (using danny, putting on a show for matt's spirit) and mean.. (when she finds out there's more things being kept from her and she lashes out to - anyone and everyone, etcetc.) and well yeah. leigh is just as flawed as danny and the reader, but it’s like you wrote “Her... directness is refreshing. In a world full of people trying to sugarcoat everything, Leigh just says it like it is. And yes, it can come off a bit strong, but there's something genuine about it. — Formidable.” and ahhh i could pick apart the little things you wrote for paragraphs and why it scratches my brain so good but alas.
long response, stort reply; i don’t hate danny. hate was too strong of a word. danny is human, so is leigh. and we’re all guilty to being selfish at some points in our lives, whether we like to admit it or not.
and honestly, i felt a little silly after submitting the long ask, but i’m glad you had a positive reaction to it. (plus!! you tagged it as a love letter— i know i called it that on a whim, but it made my heart flutter when you tagged it as such.)
thank you for taking time to read my words and respond to them! i also figure.. i’ll be back in this inbox with more love letters when the next chapter comes… so maybe i can claim an anon spot…?
Yes, exactly. I think he needs to do more growing up. I've been around enough to realize that men mature more slowly than women. which is explains why im so appalled by men my age and younger lol
him asking reader to keep it a secret was him not seeing that leigh has become important to reader, or that their relationship is, while still on an acquaintance-level, is layered with something magnetic.
i think when i wrote leigh, just piled on how the show wrote her. they did an incredible job on her. and i was also sourcing my from own experience with this girl i used to like.. who isn't the most pleasant person to be with and kind of aloof and standoffish. and that's what made her so charming to me. so im glad you're noticing that leigh's imperfection is actually her attractive trait.
I'm sorry if it took a bit longer to reply to this one, i was just working the whole day and working on chapter 7. so i set aside specific times of the day to check out tumblr and reply to asks :)
once again, thank you for your thoughts. keep them long, i love reading feedback no matter the length :D
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A new chapter! And again such a long one! 😃
And - wow! - thank you for your detailed answer to my question. 😃 It's really interesting to hear how you approached this big story. I too think, that it's really important to be aware of each character and their development and to maybe write it down to keep track of everyone. One can tell you're doing this because the story has never lost its thread.
And I have to say: I think the same can be said for your Oneshots. Yes, each and every one is complete in itself, but so is the big picture. Due to the fact that I discovered them not so long ago, I was able to read them all in one go, so that they really seemed like many small scenes from yet another big story. Which was great! 😊
But now to the new chapter: Alfie!!! You wanna shake and hug him at the same time. But then you get to know the complexity of everything. At first you think: Just lie down, damn it, Alfie! It can only go wrong… But then reading your/his thoughts on the subject that Tommy will of course relate it to himself when Alfie is exhausted and as a result will not ask him for help again puts everything into perspective. As already described above: One can tell how much effort you put into it and the development of the characters, which makes them incredibly alive and deep! And of course it goes wrong... but luckily there’s Esther! ❤️ I'm really glad you decided to keep her in the story. She is so great! ☺️ And such a nice ending, even if you want to shake Alfie again so that he finally says what he thinks! Things are looking as if they miiiiiiiight get going uphill. 😀
Thank you for the chapter! I am excited for the next! 😊
Thank you for another incredible message! ❤️ And here’s a very late (and again, very long answer, bear with me)
I’m very happy to hear your thoughts on my one shots in the wtma-AU, because writing for that AU was very different from these long stories, since they’re not written in chronological order. I wrote most of them based on requests, and sometimes I got a request for something that I thought would fit better earlier in the timeline, so I had to do some planning and thinking to make it feel cohesive. Though when I think about it now, I’ve always taken requests sort of ’in bulk’ so I did have a chance to plan them out and make them work in relation to each other. I didn’t have quite the overview I’ve had with Breathe Again and Home to you, but I’m glad they feel like one long story, because that’s always been the goal. (And just a little note for anyone who enjoys the wtma-AU, I actually might have a story planned out for that, because I re-read them the other day and realized how much I’ve missed writing for it, and a little idea came to mind. We’ll see what happens.)
But back to the current story: your kind words mean the world. Alfie slowly but surely wearing himself out is something that’s been in the works from the moment Tommy got injured and had to be taken to the hospital way back in the beginning. And in some ways from the very beginning of Breathe Again. But I’ve tried to portray Margate as this sort of safe haven, where they’d gotten into a working routine of sorts by the end of Breathe again and the beginning of Home to you, which helped Alfie (and Esther) to care for Tommy. And of course Tommy’s recovery has taken a toll after so much new trauma. Which is part of the core of Alfie’s current struggle, seeing so much of the progress gone, like they’re worse off than when they started. While he’s also grown to love him deeply, and that makes it all the more painful to witness, especially since he feels guilty for being unable to protect him.
Right I could ramble on about that forever, so I’ll just wrap it up there.
I’ve been struggling with the new chapter, but I’m working on it, and it means a lot to know you’re excited for the continuation. Thank you again for your kind message ❤️
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Okay so i realised im a fucking idiot and that i’ve been sending you shit through “?” And i have no idea where those messages go through so whoopdy doo ig but in my defence i wasnt able to send anything any other way bc.. uhh.. yeah my email wasn’t confirmed n all that. Im telling u man i’m a whole ass boomer rn🤦♀️ can’t even remember how to send an ask smh.
Anyways i only now finished reading svs because i’ve been putting it off in favour of reading different fics (works from other fandoms and… ooc soukoku fics. Listen i hate mischaracterisation as much as the next guy but i find them very entertaining okay) and AAAUURGGHH WHAT A BANGER. The way you write is immaculate if svs was a food it’d have a savoury taste like i’d be liking my fingers n shit. I found out about it when you posted on twitter you updated it (it was the smut chapter, by the way) and i was like “huh” and decided to read it and my god am i glad I didn’t skip over that tweet.
Idk if this was on purpose or not but verlaine is kinda cringefail in your fic and i love it. I am a firm believer that as badass as verlaine is he is undeniably embarrassing and i need MORE of that.
My one criticism for svs is that we needed more adam scenes. He should have been added like really, unnecessarily early on in the fic and act as a third wheel in the fic. But like a third wheel soukoku did not want or ask for but he’s just kinda there they can’t really get rid of him. Chuuya and dazai in their divorce arc arguing and adam is in the background thinking “i could crack a really funny joke from this” (on that note i added the lines “Adam’s blabbering makes more sense now, so they act as if nothing has happened. “When I lift this veil, you will seal the deal with a kiss.” He can’t stop himself from laughing, “I hope you enjoyed that joke too.” “We didn’t,” Verlaine says from across the shrine. “Paul be quiet.”” In my “collection of fanfic lines I chuckled at” in my notes. He’s so silly i love him. I love how he laughs at his own jokes he just like me fr.)
Anyways here are like two extra svs doodles. I keep thinking about how you said that chuu can fluctuate between genders (literally) and its so… zamn.
And reading the scene where verlaine is brushing chuuya’s hair inspired me to draw this
I have no idea how long chuuya’s hair is supposed to be like idk if it’s “yeah his hair is a little longer than it is in canon haha” or “yeah mf got some LONG ass hair looking like rapunzel”. Also I don’t remember if his lil ribbon was red or blue but.. i jus went with blue and i didn’t know if the pearls were supposed to be like on his head or woven into his braid so i just went with the latter. And again ALSO i know he was barefoot but i’m not drawing his fucking dogs okay.
This ask is long as hell never let me talk again LMAO
Currently looking at a detail i forgot in the drawing… not pointing it out in hopes you don’t notice it either smh but GOD DAMMIT 🤬🤬🤬
DAWG I OPENED THIS YESTERDAY IN SHOCK IA M ALWAYS BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR ASKS AND ART IT MAKES ME FEEL SO LOVED AND SO CRAZY LIKE!?!?! I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT ENOUGH TO MAKE ART I SAVE IT AND LOOK AT IT CONSTANTLY ;_; IM LIKE.....
AND ALSO THANK YOU. I need svs criticism and ur right I should have introduced more characters earlier I just got carried away with skk because...IDK BUT ADAM WAS MY SAVING GRACEE. He was so silly I wanted to add him sooner but I was like wait....no... BUT HE IS IN THE SEQUEL!!! DW!!! His silly ass is there and he's cracking them jokes and Verlaine is like o_o. THE ADAM LINES WERE SO FUN TOO CAUSE HE'S NOT CRINGE HE'S JUST....HIM.
Verlaine is cringe-fail on purpose tho and I'm glad you saw that because I see him as an incredibly pathetic person who can't do normal human things. He would like bite open a metal can or rip it open with his hands because he doesn't know what a can opener is. He is that type of guy.
The art is just immaculate bro like straight-up BEAUTIFUL. Chuuya's literal genderfluidity is something I'm glad people like cause when I imagine divinity I think of someone not bound by sex or gender and whatnot plus I just don't think he'd give a fart. so like....world's most wonderful tits...but he's shorter.
THE WEDDING OUTFIT IS SENDING ME TO THE GRAVE THO LIKE. IT"S PERFECT AND IDK WHAT DETAIL YOU MISSED CAUSE I FORGET EVERYTHING BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT I"M. THE HAIR LENGTH I DIDN"T SPECIFIY !!! He looks so *crying emoji cause I don't have my phone* you don't have to draw his toes I just think barefoot chuu running up the stairs to meet dazai is very him. perseverance.
BOYCACA WHAT IS YOUR TWT LET ME FOLLOW YOU AND BOTHER YOU THERE AND SPREAD THE BOYCACA AGENDA
#asks#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#dazai#chuuya#silver soul#my writing#boycaca#boy caca art is so juicy AGAIN
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No pressure if you don’t want to share, but I’m so curious what you do for a living and/or what your educational background is. I’m so impressed with your storytelling skills that I feel like it cannot be accidental. I have a fair amount of experience as a reader/writer (though not professional) and have a college level writing/English degree and again I’m just so impressed. I wish I had the patience like some to bullet out specifics within a chapter but it’s like moment to moment you just don’t miss.
The exchange with Tommy and Joel in this chapter was superb. The way you write sometimes there isn’t much explanation needed, you do a beautiful job of showing vs telling. You let details unfold in such a subtle but very intentional way. I never feel like, “Oh, here’s the exposition”.
Beskar Doll and Lavender have been two of my absolute favorites and truthfully the initial plot around Yearling didn’t interest me but I trusted you based on the others. It’s becoming my favorite of the three. Like I don’t even care if it gets smutty (and… I usually want that), the story and character development are enough.
Anyway none of this to say skip the smut 😂 But please you how talented you are, especially considering your writing speed. You’re cranking shit out fast and nothing ever feels rushed or unintentional❤️
OMG Hi Bestie!
I totally don't mind sharing! I work in communications now (I write a lot of emails and blog posts, the occasional journal article, etc.) but I was a journalist for a decade before I sold my soul to the PR gods. I have a degree in journalism so my background is definitely all writing! And I have always done creative writing for fun. My mom went through boxes of my elementary school stuff like a year or two ago and found a little novella I wrote when I was like seven lol. I started writing my first novel (it's very bad though I did finish it) when I was 11 and writing novels has been my primary hobby ever since, really. When I got into fan fic earlier this year, I just kind of picked up what I do in novel planning and whatnot and plopped it into the fic space. It means so much that you think it's high quality work! I'm so glad you've enjoyed it!
And OMG this is so exciting about Yearling lol. Yearling has made me so nervous from the start? It was a story I really wanted to tell - trauma, recovery, finding home and family, forgiveness, growth - but it was the first fic I started writing that I thought people might be reading from the beginning and I didn't want to disappoint anyone. Every other fic I started writing thinking no one would read it so the stakes were INCREDIBLY low lol it was just for me! It's a little different now because so many kind, wonderful people have read these stories. Yearling is obviously a slow burn, which I know isn't what people always go for, and there's a LOT of plot - again, not always what draws people into fic! - so I'm thrilled that people have connected with it. I'm extra happy that you're a convert to it!! That made my day, for real!
Don't worry, smut is coming soon in Yearling lol! Smut is never the point in my fics, more just sprinkled in for spice (not that there's anything wrong with PWP!! I love that! I'm just AWFUL at writing it) but I love having it. I may not be as explicit when I write books but I find stories for and about adults unrealistic if it doesn't include sex or romance as some kind of driver (unless the characters are aro/ace) so it's a safe bet you'll find smut in my work! Also love that you think I'm writing fast lol I feel like I'm going so slow compared to Lavender but I really needed to have better balance between life and fic writing this time. While it's not written yet, I do have the whole fic story mapped so there's a plan for every major plot point. It's definitely intentional! I hope it keeps coming off that way and that you keep enjoying it!
Thank you so so so much for reaching out and for spending your time reading these fics. I loved reading your thoughts!! Love you!!
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Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 38
Lin told Al and Winry stuff. I'm glad Lin took off his shoes before placing his feet on the bed.
This is the first time Winry was around when something happened. The danger Ed and Al are putting themselves in is suddenly less abstract. It's been three days since she found out Hughes was dead.
Lust is certain in Gluttony and Envy's skill. Cut to Envy and Gluttony getting beat. With the Gluttony fight, it was fun to pay attention to Private First Class Black Hayate. Not only did he bite Gluttony's shoulder, he also spooked him by jumping and yapping. Then he jumped out of the way when Hawkeye and Fuery opened fire on Gluttony. And then there's his reactions to everything after.
Lan Fan and Lin can both detect the Homunculi. This is the first time we get explicit confirmation they have a Philosopher's Stone in them so now I can say that's what they're detecting. So when the Xing characters start talking about weird sensations about Amestris, a vigilant reader might start connecting some dots.
No matter what he looks like, Lin will always be my babygirl.
Roy was surprised Alphonse showed up so that means Lin bringing him along was not part of the Super Heist. But Al is welcome to join.
When we get these little moments of information exchange, I like to try tracing things back to how did they get the info. For a moment, I wandered how Al knew Envy's name. Al had seen him before when Envy brought Ed's unconscious body from Lab 5, but it took me a moment to remember Ed heard his name and shared it with Al, Armstrong, and Hughes later. So that's how Al got the info. Nobody connected any dots from Envy's transforming powers to Hughes's death though. No one in the car knows Maria Ross was witnessed killing him.
A nice little miscellaneous thing during the car ride and info-sharing scene is we see Hawkeye and Havoc reloading their guns.
Is that a "Cat Crossing" street sign?
Barry's pursuit leads closer to the middle of Central so that means Lab 3 is in the inner city.
Roy uses Barry's rampage as the perfect excuse to head into Lab 3 without needing a warrant or anything. Roy brings up an incident at the penitentiary earlier that day and refers to Barry as the murderer. I wanted to make sure this wasn't some translation error and Roy wasn't referring to the guy who broke Maria Ross out, and I think this is a separate incident because Barry didn't kill anyone there so the perpetrator being a murderer is not applicable. (I mean, yes, Barry is a murderer, but the details of the breakout wouldn't imply that.)
Alphonse seems nervous playing along with Roy's ruse. He's not military personnel.
From this shot when the team splits up, we can tell the hallway is slightly curved.
This is a seemingly irrelevant detail but I'm going to build on this in the next few chapters so keep this in the back of your mind. The room Roy and Havoc find in the long hallway appears to have been to their right.
I hope Mustang and Havoc got treated for potential infections after all this was over because there's no way that water was sanitary.
That move Roy used to break the water down into hydrogen and oxygen, that could just be some Alchemy stuff or he could have been applying a real world technique called electrolysis.
Electrolysis involves channeling a direct current through substance to trigger a chemical reaction that otherwise wouldn't happen. For water, electrolysis requires the current to travel through an electric conductor in the water. Oxygen gathers in the positive side of the conductor while hydrogen gathers in the negative side. If that was what Roy did, then he was likely able to achieve it using something in the room as a conductor and himself as the battery.
He probably wouldn't be able to use it to dry his gloves though since the conductor can't be touching other materials, otherwise the current would flow into them instead.
I wonder if this is an error caused by the translation process. There's a blank pixel on one panel.
Roy does that eye thing a few times but he does it in bursts. His eyes are obscured when he shoots Lust in response to her taunt about Hughes. He does it when she shows her Philosopher's Stone (That was probably shock). He does it when Havoc gets stabbed (shock again). He does it when he grabs Havoc's gun, but not when he shoots Lust. And he does it when he rips her stone out of her body and they go back to normal as soon as he rips it out.
The part where he was shooting Lust to demand information was personal business. The part where he blew her up was professional. And his reaction to Havoc getting hurt made it personal again but he calmed down to make sure he could shoot Lust.
Unlike Greed, Lust is able to use her powers and regenerate at the same time. It might be possible she, and by extension all the homunculi, can wait to regenerate because she was able to lie in wait to ambush Roy and Havoc after being blown up.
And when Lust's stone is ripped out, her body disintegrates only to build a new one around the stone. So the stones are their actual "bodies" and their physical bodies are just vessels for them. Lust commented on what Roy did just before destroying her old body so her memories are stored in the stone.
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Spoiler Discussion
Lin most likely told Al about the heist to smuggle Maria Ross out of the country and that Ed was taken away so he could safely give Roy information.
When Ed and company infiltrate the Lab 3 hallway late in the series, Hohenheim takes the same route Roy and Havoc took and got to Father's lair with no trouble. Presumably, this means the door Lust was guarding leads straight to him.
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