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revvethasmythh · 2 months

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I do find it really fascinating, per Marisha's statement at ECCC, that she interpreted Laudna holding onto Imogen during the flare as "literally, physically holding her back." Having now seen the moment, it's obvious that a) Marisha is thinking about this as the moment happens, and b) that Laura seems to be interpreting the event rather differently. Laudna is clinging onto Imogen and looks worried as she tries to keep her close. Meanwhile, Laura seems to just use it as an opportunity for Imogen to reach out to Laudna for an embrace.

Laudna perceiving the moment as "holding Imogen back" is interesting for a couple reasons, but first: because the power Imogen is getting from these flares is not necessarily a good thing. Yes, it is good for them to have currently because it makes Imogen (and Fearne) stronger. But also, gaining strength in her powers, reveling in the joy of floating into a flare, feeling at home and welcomed by Predathos' embrace--those are causes for concern, which Laura confirmed on the panel as well (i.e. her discussion of Imogen's increasing desire to give in to Predathos). But it does pair perfectly with the ideological track Laudna seems to be on, as she willingly feeds Delilah to gain power, that something that isn't good, per se, can still be plenty beneficial. Her stated willingness to stay by Imogen even if she does give into Predathos, her questioning whether Predathos is Imogen's ultimate destiny--those things feel very at home with where Laudna is standing mentally right now.

It's also, however, somewhat at odds with the defining trait of their relationship: tethering. That was the thematic crux of their relationship for a very long time, this idea that they could tether each other to something better than the forces trying to tear them apart, whether that be Imogen's Ruidian connections or Laudna's relationship with Deliah. What Laudna did for Imogen in that moment was quite literally tethering her. So the fact that Laudna felt negatively about the moment, that she was holding Imogen back instead of keeping her grounded, feels like a major shift in that conception of their relationship. It does also feel consistent with Laudna's perception of power and how much she wants Imogen to have it. How can you tether someone when you want them to be chasing power like that? Is your tether a noose or a lifeline? Because Laudna seems to be thinking of it as the former, but I'm not sure that's how Imogen sees it at all

#writing any meta about these two is such a crapshoot about who is going to do what in your notes #so just. be normal and the reblogs stay on #okay? okay #cr spoilers #anyway it WAS a really interesting character insight from marisha and I like it a lot #though i'm not sure i wrote out my thoughts all that well but that's the best i've got right now

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polaroidcats · 6 months

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Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)

Abstract

In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.

Introduction

In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.

Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).

Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.

The ugly crying parameters

(1) Unbecoming facial expressions

James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.

Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.

(2) facial swelling/blotching

While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.

(3) unsettling noises

James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.

With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.

(4) snot factor

The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.

It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.

James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).

(5) tear volume

Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.

(6) general loss of dignity

@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.

I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.

The pretty crying parameters

(7) glistening eyes/lashes

Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.

(8) Victorian heroine factor

It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:

“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”

(9) elegant tear-wiping

There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.

(10) post-cry glow

Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”

Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).

Additional parameters

I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:

(11) explosiveness of cry

@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.

Further opinions & conclusions

The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:

“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”

This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?

While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.

#marauders #idek what to tag this as lol #i don't write fic i only write pseudo scientific papers on fandom analysis (apparently) lol i had so much fun writing this #even if just 1 person reads it i'll be happy i know it's ridiculous #scientific analysis of ugly crying #akso i tried to tag everyone i mentioned to make it feel more like i'm actually quoting them (which i am) but if anyone doesn't want to be #tagged in this lmk and i'll remove it haha #anyways okay i'll post it now #this is what happens when i go on tumblr during work hours and then keep thinking about how much more fun editing papers would be if they #were about the marauders instead of the things i have to read/edit at work #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #(this thing has almost 2k words and i wrote it in 2-3hours)#idek what that says about me #that this is how i chose to spend my tuesday evening #but i love it

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mattodore · 21 days

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salt in our memories

#river dipping #matthias evanoff #theodore doe #echthroi #ts4 #ts4 edit #ts4 cas #simblr #editing recent-ish cas screenshots of them in outfits and poses that everyone has already seen before. groundbreaking.#i was just trying to make myself feel better by doing something mindless for a bit but it didn't work so . now i'm just sitting here #there are two more screenshots that i edited but tumblr keeps crunching on them and tbh i just want to go lay down #maybe i'll add them here later but probably not i love wasting my own time <3 new edits after three weeks tho so there's that #caption is just a quote from salt by chelsea wolf which is one of theo's playlist songs #bc i fr had nothing else in mind for it 🤷#ik i said i'd get to my activity but i really don't feel up to it #i'm just gonna read i think and maybe write a little later #okay. bye 👋

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benevolentcalamity · 7 months

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I'm Quite Ten-tickled. [Mindflayer x Fem!Reader]

Cause I know a few people that would shout at me 'YOU NEED TO DO A MINDFLAYER' if they knew I existed. (That being about 1/4 of the Baldur's Gate fandom.)

Warning: This fic contains smut. I dunno if this equates to dubcon or what, but proceed with caution cause I have no idea what I'm doing.

There will be inaccuracies because I've only scanned a wiki and seen BG3 clips. Hopefully you guys still love me!

CURTAINS!

Come.

As though responding to the order tugging at your brain, the writhing tendrils part like a sentient curtain, before unwinding from around your arms. When the writhing prison at last gives way you're sent onto all fours, limbs limp from lack of use if only just to wriggle away from your tormentors. A cruel joke, this place, so wondrous and fascinating in its almost otherworldly structure... Yet, the moment you were pulled up by that grotesque tendril you regretted your brief study of them.

Was it a mistake, then? To push your brother out of the way even though he was the paladin? Surely he'd have laid waste to this ship by now - you simply doomed yourself to the fate he would have destroyed.

... It wasn't. At least this way he can go back to the church and mount a rescue. Not for you- alone, anyway. Everyone here that's still alive.

T'was the firelight outside that woke you to the siege. Buildings were being destroyed to kill the weak or scare the potential test subjects out into their range. You and your brother were two such folk - or to be more accurate he was the one. They always did look for the strong ones with 'potential', according to the horror stories of those that survived.

Did they know they were being researched? Or were they simply combing the continent for prey? ... Is this worth wondering if you're not sure whether tomorrow is what will be destroyed?

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

A scream, unholy and thick with suffering, pulls your hairs on end, your feet fusing to the floor for just a moment. Your heart leaps into your throat, hands growing so cold they could sustain ice-based sorcery. With a deep breath heat slowly creeps back into your fingertips, and a harsh swallow commands your legs to keep moving as though nothing's wrong.

Again, the order: "Come to me."

For the guided it isn't a long walk, any passing faces blurred or forgotten, the near and distant screams falling mute. In fact, as you get closer, only the order - and in turn the Mindflayer responsible - remaining. You hardly feel how your back straightens like a stiff beam as you prepare to be obedient.

To the rhythm of the squirming sound in your head, his elation pulses with the order in repeat. That he will rise above, and command the shared mind of his kindred...

How do you...?

A dizziness takes over, wavering your steps a moment, as the flesh doors open. The moment that his mind reaches you, you're again steady, as though his hands themselves guide you in this moment.

"There you are."

Tendrils flexing and curling, he stands, and for a moment they reach toward you. Before long they echo the movement of his hand, beckoning you with a roll of the fingers. Watching you cross the squishy floor he hums, voice digging into your mind fully as his innate power wraps around your mind.

A break from this is visible solely in how there's a momentary hesitation in your hand reaching for a tentacle. That disgust fades in a blink, however, as momentary as he'd allow. Only he can feel that, if anything at all, in the turmoil that is his kind's heart. They have one, beating in only the Queen of their collective consciousness. All else is simply them following nature's grand design.

Impatient, a tentacle reaches and wraps around your neck, cueing you to simply shed your clothes. Without hesitation you follow the order, some stray tentacles wandering about your body as they pull you yet closer. Further imprisoning your mind where it should be, the rest of them wrap about your head, loosing your hair from the ribbons as his hand guides your legs apart.

Curiosity is shared between you two, the tadpole shivering in fervor as his cold gaze pierces your own.

"If yours is the body I require..." You're turned around and guided onto his lap, legs split and held up in the air. "Then through you, I'll hold the key to my ascension. So, rejoice now, for I will become the Absolute, and your womb will bear Illithid that will see my will enacted."

Clouded, you swallow. "... I will be... of service," You breathe. "My Emperor..." A thrall, yet your form hasn't changed - it's simply too sad to see tentacles spring from your flesh. Well and, you're appetizing simply in more ways than satisfying one's hunger.

Guided by his desires, your head tilts back with the opening of your mouth. Pleased, he allows a tentacle to slip inside, which you suck on as another wraps around your hand and holds it up so it can be caressed. In the meanwhile his mind engulfs your body, the very will to pleasure you seeing your insides squirm and pool warmly. Without complaint or hesitance he watches, amused, as your skin flushes and your every muscle bends to his will.

"A-aah!"

Slipping through his pants with unceremonious mucus, his cock slips inside of you with the help of a tentacle or two. It's big enough, lumpy and undulating, slipping in and out as though with a mind of its own. His powerful hands keep your legs high up, another tentacle pushing into your mouth as it throbs, swirls, and churns inside of you. With each thrust it hammers in his dominion over you, the voices of the other Illithid fading out as his own mind worms its way from the collection.

Merciful he tugs the tendrils from your mouth, save for one at the tip of your tongue, and lets you breathe. As the engorging and pulsating cock pounds all the way to your cervix, your mind grows foggier until he's all you can even feel.

I... I can see it now...!

From your body, eggs the size of your fist, squishing and squirming with new life ready to form. They'll grow into an army, nay, a legion, that will serve the new Absolute. Never will you die, for only you are worthy of this blessing - and thus the only one that should be seated upon the blessed cock of the Emperor.

Sucking that tentacle back into your mouth, your moans are silenced once again, thumb rubbing the tentacle guiding your arm around his neck.

Undulating further, his cock squirms and engorges until it settles in for what feels like eternity. He lowers your legs to hang them over the arms of the throne, familiar tendrils wrapping around your ankles. Anticipation sees your body arch, his arms wrapping around your waist as the rest of his tentacles tighten around your head. Not in hunger or malice, but an overwhelming possessiveness that will never see you be rescued or taken from him by another.

Lowering to grab your hips, his own snap up into them, and you squeal, mouth gaping open as he mercilessly pounds into you. Pleasured cries and pleas for him to never stop reverberate through the ship, him not interested in silencing them. Encouraged by your pleasure he continues his powerful claiming of your womb, his own arousal and satisfaction stoked by your flaming hunger for more.

"Yes-! YES!" You cry. "Ohhh, my Emperor! Oh, my Emperor!" Your one hand caresses his slimy head, one of his hands coming up to hold yours. "Aaah! Aa-aaah! Aaaah! Gh- fuck! Ahhh!!!"

Your back arches, and light flashes in your eyes. After too short a time he shoots a load into you, neverending, until your stomach expands and then hangs. The hand holding your precious head falls to hold your belly. In what feels like no time it feels lumpy, already hard at work in proving he made a good decision keeping you alive after you'd robbed him of the paladin.

"There. Now, you will bear the trueborn, and with me rule this world and all beyond. May our bodies never age or fall to mortal malady, for we will be the architects of a world befitting only our ilk."

He reaches beneath your body, cock sliding back into its slit, and an egg slides into his palm.

"Until time itself withers."

#egg laying #monster story #mind flayer #i'm not tagging bg3 because this isn't bg3 #my writing #monster x reader #mind flayer x you #mind flayer x human #help #monster x human #monster x you #writers of tumblr #i will never be okay :D #dnd fanfiction #hey i can tag that #ok thanks imma go now

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prince-liest · 1 month

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Current writing priorities, should they manage to stay the same for any reasonable length of time, in no particular order:

666 #7: genderfuckery + Vox finally realizing his dreams of getting fucked

666 #8: drunken antics + electrostim, finally

I put Alastor and Lucifer's post-finale traumas into a box and shake it violently

Al and Mimzy's final convo in I Love Her, I Love Her Not

#personal #nsft #I just always desperately want to write more Lucifer POV fics but I'm lower on ideas for him than I am for Alastor #so to resolve that I'm bodily throwing Alastor directly at him like an improvised weapon LMAO #also I love how vague the ideas for the 666 fics fundamentally are vs how the final fics turn out ehehe #eg. number 5 was “Alastor puts a dress on + wireplay” and number 6 was “hypno-assigned praise kink + PTSD”#technically not inaccurate!#okay now I go to bed

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siliconforbrains · 3 months

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Okay, it's like 10pm on a work night and I haven't had any coffee today so my thoughts are a little scrambled BUT. I WAS THINKING.

(About In Stars and Time of course I'm always thinking about that game)

A couple of years ago, at the height of Steddie -my sister was big into it and recced me some fics okay- I read this fic about Steve dealing with time loops ("The one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting" by badpancake) and there was this specific detail about the epilogue that stuck with me.

It was the idea that, once the time loops were done and over with, people would slowly start to remember bits and pieces of what happened in earlier loops. After being fractured for so long across dozens of timelines and experiences and outcomes, time was finally healing, and broken shards of lost memories would find their way back into people's minds.

And that got me thinking about a post-game what-if scenario where the same happens to the gang as they travel through Vaugarde.

Like they still don't remember everything -just bits and pieces. Experiences so emotionally charged that they found a way to cross the sands of time and reach them again.

The question is, what would those memories be? The first answer that comes to mind is some of Siffrin's deaths, of course. I can't imagine watching your friend get pancake-d by a boulder would be pleasant, nor witnessing them turning their own dagger to themselves. Or offering him a slice of your favorite snack only for him to go into anaphylactic shock in front of your very eyes, for that matter!

But there would be other instances too, wouldn't they? Death is not the only thing that shook them to their core. What about their first death to the King? Or Bonnie's fate at the end of Act 3? What about basking in the blissful feeling of victory against the tormentor of your land only to turn to look at your friend and know something is very, very wrong?

What about fighting through the House with a party of 4 instead of 5, bloodied, confused, staring in the face of the King knowing you're about to die and wondering why your friend left you all when you needed them most?

I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I've been rotating this concept in my head since this morning and thought I'd get it out on here so y'all can suffer with me tehee

#maxisrambling #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #isat siffrin #i genuinely don't know if i'd ever write a fic about this concept #esp bc i already have like 3 wips im working on and i don't need another #but if i ever were to it would be like. a post-game fic where the party realizes just how bad the loops were #how they affected siffrin and how they mightve affected /them/#(bc love this found family to death but siffrin probably downplays a lot of the loops stuff until confronted /lh)#and meanwhile sif has to deal with the knowledge that his family is remembering things he never wanted them to remember #seeing things they never shouldve seen #and is probably filled with a fuckton of guilt about that bc even now that the loops are broken they're hurting them #they all need a hug oh my god #OFC it would have a happy hopeful ending but NSDJKVNDJKFV angst hurt/comfort <3 #okay im done rambling hopefully this makes sense #im gonna go pass out now id say sorry but I'm not lmao xoxo

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willowser · 1 year

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Can you write ex husband Bakugou a happy moment please? 😭

LMAO poor thing !! 🥺

it's after coming back from your weekly dinner. you'd driven to the house to begin with, so that the three of you could all ride together, and now that it's over, you're meant to be taking your son back home with you.

but katsuki manages to wrangle him from his car seat with little resistance and—your baby looks so cute with his head tucked into his dad, thumb in his mouth as he blinks sleepily. and yeah, you could easily strap him into the seat in your car, but now he's disgruntled and grouchy from having been woken up, and once you get home you'll have to get him up the stairs and into his pj's and—

so you offer to let him stay another night, just so he doesn't get too worn out. katsuki's not gonna say no, especially not when you follow him inside and into your son's bedroom, watching as his little jeans get tugged off and replaced by something a little comfier, and then they're going through their little routine:

it's important to katsuki, to talk to his son. he'll sit at the head of the bed and speak to him, in his low and soft voice, calmly asking if he's okay. if there's anything he needs. if there is anything he wants to talk to his dad about. if he's done anything to upset him. and then katsuki will tell him goodnight, that he loves him, and that his room is just down the hall if he needs anything.

he's a far different man than he was when your son was first born, when he would scream and cry and katsuki didn't know what to do or how to help. and there were times when he was crying just to cry, and your husband couldn't stand it, couldn't stand to have to listen to him knowing there was nothing to do but hold him.

"what the fuck 'm i supposed to do? tell me what he wants! i don't—i can't tell, i'm not cut out for—"

when he stands from the small bed, he joins you in the doorway, switching the nightlight on before bringing the door as you both step out, cracking it just a little.

and you're both left in the silence of the house, staring at one another in the hallway, and—he's a different man than he was when your son was first born, when being with him was harder than being without him.

now, you think, watching as he fiddles with the bare spot on his finger where his ring once sat, maybe it wouldn't be so painful.

"i guess i should head out," you whisper, offering him a soft smile when his eyes dart to your lips. katsuki goes a little stiff—like always—when you move in to hug him, wrapping your arms tight around his neck as you squish your body to his.

and your little baby looked so comfortable tucked into him, and so you do, too; face against his neck, feeling more than hearing the hitch in his breath, the beat of his pulse in his throat.

"thank you for dinner," you tell him, and then when he only nods: "he's so lucky to have you as his father, you know?"

it disarms him—completely; things of this nature always have. father's day has never been anything but challenging to him, struggling to keep a lid on all the emotions he's stuffed away. his first little handmade card, signed by your son with a splotchy blue handprint, had him in the bathroom with the water running for nearly fifteen minutes.

katsuki doesn't say anything, but dissolves into you, the tension in his body slipping away as he presses his face into your hair and holds you even tighter, hands splaying wide across your back to keep you close.

now, you think, maybe it wouldn't be so hard.

#okay okay i'm going to quit clogging up the dash for the night with this LOL #ending—for now—on a hopeful note !!!#our boy deserves some love 🥺🥺#that first father's day he reemerges from the bathroom with a red face and swollen eyes #sniffing and acting like he doesnt know what you're talking about LOL #cw children #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: dad bakugou #✿ theme: ex husband bakugou

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artfulacrostic · 2 months

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memes for The Bad Batch 3x05, "The Return" PT 2

told y'all i'd be back here's ur second delivery

*SPOILERS*

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blackjackkent · 2 months

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Jaheira's office does indeed look completely overgrown, which is apropos to be honest.

There's several notes in here from various people regarding her investigations into the cult and the shadowlands prior to her departure to Last Light. Also a note from the Flaming Fist indicating that Rion and Jord have been helping to "settle street disputes" in a fashion the Fist disapproves of, and a clipping from the Baldur's Mouth Gazette relating to the Beloved Ranger statue (which was actually Minsc) disappearing.

There's a button operated by the pin Tate gave us on the side of her desk; it opens a pathway down into "Jaheira's Hideout" beneath the house.

Whoa.

There are quite a number of these traps set up. The Narrator informs us, on a passed arcana check, that these are attuned to the druid who set them - Jaheira - but that they can be overwhelmed by being hit with the same element.

I trust you implicitly, Jaheira, and also I can't figure out what pressure plate you're talking about. So I hope you're right. XD

At the bottom of the hill is... well, a sort of paradise.

A gorgeous green lagoon rounded with trees and plants and a run-down but sturdy house of wood and thatch. Next to it is a badger, labeled "Postmaster Badger", and several "Messenger Rats."

"The only patch of wilderness this city permits me," Jaheira says wistfully. "There ought to be supplies here to aid us."

"You know this place, Boo?" Minsc says indignantly. "Hmph. Minsc has never been invited."

Everything inside the house is trapped. XD I quicksaved aggressively while disarming everything because I was very afraid of exploding Jaheira's sanctuary by accident.

In disarming the traps, Hector finds a hidden door behind a bookshelf.

Jaheira reaches out and puts a hand on his arm before he can proceed. "Keen eye," she says quietly. "But if it's supplies you seek, weapons to aid in our fight - you won't find them behind that door." He can hear a sudden effort in her voice, one he knows all too well - the struggle against sudden emotion. "There is nothing back there of worth to anyone but me."

Hector looks at her thoughtfully. His curiosity is piqued, certainly, and it is a powerful force on its own - but more than that, he has been fascinated, over this past hour or so, at seeing beneath the brittle shell that Jaheira always presents to the world. "If it matters to you, it matters to me," he says earnestly.

She looks away from him, her eyes flicking rapidly around the room. "On my word," she mutters. "All you will find inside is dust, and the mouldering keepsakes of a much younger woman."

"Jaheira," Minsc rumbles gently. "Our friend has put their trust in us. Boo thinks it only right to return the gesture, no?"

For a moment, Hector thinks she is going to lash out, defensive-- but then she hesitates, and smiles ruefully. "You so rarely make a habit of being right, ranger, that it puts me ill at ease when you are." She sighs, looks back to Hector and nods. "Pass, then. Go on. See what it is a foolish old Harper thinks worth hiding away."

Hector holds himself still for a moment, giving her the chance to change her mind. He is curious, and he welcomes the chance to connect with her here-- but he will not push where he isn't wanted.

When she doesn't object, he leans over and pushes the bookcase aside.

It's an unassuming little area, really - no more than a dirt cave behind the house. A large chest, several display cases and crates and a table covered in scrolls.

-----

The table first, and the scroll on it:

"Rite of the Timeless Body," Hector says thoughtfully. "What's that about? I'd best ask Jaheira."

"I found a strange scroll in your sanctuary. Something about a 'timeless body'?"

She snorts. "The threat of spanking never kept the children from poking through my things. Why should it deter you." She glances at the paper on the table. "It is... a ritual. Or it describes one at least. Practiced by druids of certain esoteric circles. If they be learned and powerful enough, the practitioner of this ritual might slow their aging, extend their life well beyond its natural reach. In greener days, I might have been strong enough to do it. I might be yet, with the right preparations."

Hector blinks. "So you plan to do it?"

Jaheira hesitates, shrugs. "I make no plans. Only... contingencies." She scowls, seeing the expression on his face. "Do not look at me like that. I have been content to see the span of my natural years - a privilege far too few in this world can claim. I do not speak of clinging to life for its own sake. I just... look back on that life's work and I wonder... is it done?"

She lets out a heavy breath and leans against the wall of the building behind them. "The Dead Three plague the world still. The city still falls prey to small minds like Gortash or lost souls like Orin. It is every Harper's hope to be a light that drives out darkness. But I've lived long enough to see so many of those lights burn out, while the shadows cling stubbornly on. Knowing that, isn't it our duty to burn on if we can? To fight for as long as we are able?"

Karlach gives a sudden, sharp laugh at Hector's side. "You're preaching to the doomed choir, ma'am," she says sardonically.

Jaheira smiles sadly. "You've done more than your share of fighting already, Karlach," she says. "If there is one person I would trust to make the most of a longer life, it is you."

Hector knows he shouldn't ask, he knows it isn't fair with Karlach standing right there to hear him... but the words slip out anyway. "Would you live on at any cost?" he asks.

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "In truth, I had put this ritual from my mind - until Last Light. Trapped in that darkness, I turned to my research again. What if I was a little stronger? As fast as I once had been?" She shrugs. "Then you came, and made the question moot. But I kept this. Just in case, I told myself. A final resort. Perhaps you were not the savior you seemed. I had learned better than to think of life as some simple tale, after all. There is no guarantee of happy endings, or true heroes."

She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment before going on. "I believe that still. But when I look on all we have achieved since, I wonder... perhaps it is not heroes we need. Only people who are willing to try. I do not know what manner of story that makes. But I do know that, without an ending, it would be no story at all." She gives a short, sharp nod. "So I will accept mine, when and however it comes. As for this city's story, well..." She grins suddenly, pockets the scroll. "Well, that is entirely your problem now, cub."

He smiles slightly. "I'm honored you think of me that way."

"Hah. Do not thank me for slinging a weight around your neck," she says dryly. "I might start to feel bad." She huffs out a breath and shakes her head. "I do mean what I say - but I am also a Harper. In every honeyed word, there is a hook. But I do not plan on going anywhere just yet."

She pauses, and then grins with gallows humor. "And besides, you still have a tadpole in your skull. You are almost certainly going to die first."

Hector doesn't really think that's particularly funny.

-----

(A/N: Time for some incredibly self-indulgent headcanon - in this worldstate and in my particular headcanons for Jaheira post-BG2, you cannot convince me that she didn't obtain the information on that ritual partially for Rasaad, knowing she was going to outlive him by a century and not wanting to face losing another man she loved. Though I think the more altruistic explanations for her wanting it still also applied. (And perhaps Rasaad wouldn't have accepted it anyway even if she'd been able to figure it out.) She does say she put it aside for quite a while, until Last Light. Probably after Rasaad died.)

-----

Throwbacks!

There are two Very Rare quality weapons in the chest opposite the table:

This is a scimitar first found in a haybale near the Druid's Grove outside Trademeet, in Baldur's Gate 2.

This staff is obtained in Watcher's Keep in the Throne of Bhaal expansion. Caden (to my recollection) never went there during my playthrough, but that doesn't mean he didn't while I wasn't paying attention. ;) Cespenar also apparently can upgrade it in the pocket plane.

I miss Cespenar. I hope he's doing well.

-----

Finally, at the back of the room is a slightly dusty-looking display case.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Aw man, c'mon, I just teared up. You can't hit me with a throwback like that and expect me to remain normal.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

This is the necklace that Khalid makes for Jaheira (if you help him) in the Siege of Dragonspear expansion between BG1 and BG2. He was incredibly cute about it and talked about how he declared his love for her for the first time. SHE was incredibly cute about it and talked about how lucky she was to have him. The item description was also incredibly cute and talked about how just wearing it revitalized her.

HNNNNGNNNGHHHH I NEED TO GO LIE DOWN.

*quiet wailing*

We can ask her about it further, too.

"About that amulet I found in your house..."

"Oh dear," she says, looking at him warily. "Should I brace myself for some fashion advice?"

She pauses, then sighs. "But I suppose you have earned better than glibness from me. It was a gift from my husband, Khalid."

He can hear the emotion that rockets through her with the single word. He is sure he sounds much the same when he speaks of Karlach.

"He was a Harper," she goes on. Her expression grows distant, lost in memory. "A better one than me, truth be told. Any idiot can swing a sword. But to believe in the cause, with the whole of your heart? A much trickier thing."

She draws a breath and lets it out shakily. "He died. Alone, in pain, and far too young. Murdered by a mage who craved immortality." A muscle works in her cheek. "I'll not grant it by naming him in the same breath as my husband."

[HISTORY] Recall what you know of Khalid.

Narrator: The quiet, unassuming shadow to Jaheira's strength, Khalid was another warrior who helped end the Bhaalspawn crisis. Shortly after, he was murdered by the mad mage Jon Irenicus.

Hector and Jaheira have spoken of this a little before. Jaheira first mentioned him in the context of Karlach's engine, and the impending similar loss that Hector faces himself. In that moment, and in this one, he felt and feels a sudden deep surge of connection with her, a terrible bond that steadies and reassures him even if he wishes neither of them had to bear it. He is not alone, and neither is she. He hopes his presence gives her similar solace.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I hope I didn't bring up any bad memories."

She smiles weakly. "Nothing that wasn't already there, fear not," she says. "But I've lived many lifetimes since Khalid died. You, ah..." She trails off before the slight shiver in her voice can take root and blossom into tears. "You twine your life around the people you love. And when they are gone, you grow around their absence instead. It is just another way they shape you..."

She swallows, then goes on suddenly louder, faster-- "Which is my sage way of saying... I am in no danger of forgetting how my husband died. But I choose to remember how he lived."

(A/N: God, the writing in this game is gorgeous.)

Hector wonders, briefly, what Karlach thinks of this conversation, but he does not dare to look at her, or that same emotion will rise into his own throat and choke him. Instead, he focuses on Jaheira, listening intently. I choose to remember how he lived. "Tell me something about him no one else knows," he says, tone deliberately light.

She gives a slight laugh. "Most Harpers swagger and flash their feathers to catch your attention. Khalid was of a quieter sort," she says. "I have never known a warrior who would go so far out of his way to avoid a fight. Which meant the few he chose were usually the right ones." She pauses, and then laughs again, shakier this time. "And when we were married... on an upturned cart in the rainy Dalelands... he stammered so much, I've never been sure if our vows actually counted."

Hector smiles. "You seem an odd pairing," he says, gently teasing.

Her eyes narrow, taking on a sudden almost playful air. "The druid in me would like to say it was a thing of balance. The younger woman recalls rather more about a fine bottom-- and the habit not to speak unless he had something to say."

This comment is so unexpected that it startles a laugh out of Hector - and he's relieved to hear Karlach laughing too, behind him. Jaheira looks rather pleased with herself at the reaction.

"The songs make much of Khalid's meekness," she goes on after a little while, more seriously. "The quiet little Harper who had to keep a tight hold on his courage. But he had it when it counted. And more than that-- he had compassion. When you live a Harper's life, see all that a Harper sees, that is by far the harder thing to hold onto."

She looks down at the aquamarine pendant in her hands, then slips it around her neck. "But a bard can tell you all the rest," she says, turning away. "As for all the things they cannot... well. I shall just have to keep those for myself."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #AHHHHHHHHHHH #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #y'all i love jaheira so much okay #and i'm having so many feels and this post is enormous and and and #i'm a mess #weh #yes this is all massive fan service but i am a fan and i am here to be serviced #so thank you larian #i will probably have to write some drabbles or something about followup to this #either hec talking with jaheira or hec with karlach #or karlach with jaheira :O #oh man having ideas #but it's 1am so i should go to bed right now XD #jaheira #jaheira bg3 #bg3 jaheira #khalid

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