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railingsofsorrow · 13 hours

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don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” pairing: s.reid x gn!reader w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst. A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight.

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—”

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.”

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.

“I'm gonna drive.”

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.”

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more.

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out?

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.”

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly.

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.”

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.”

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed.

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense.

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.”

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.”

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;

#spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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forkloverr · 1 day

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MORE OLDER LEON HEADCANNONS!!!

I thought I would take advantage of me and @thebiscuithater 's older Leon brain rot AND also answer this ask that had been sitting in my inbox (SORRY!!) anyways.... infinite darkness Leon supremacy <3 🤍 - No silliness (if you know what I mean) but Leon gets a little mischievous 🤍 - An older Leon was in mind while writing this, but to each their own :)

stubble.

The moon is piercing through the windows, various lamps and small lights illuminate the space around you. Soft jazz is quietly playing in the background. It’s approximately 2 AM, and instead of being honked out and snoozing in your warm comfortable bed, you’re hunched over the stove, cooking a warm meal for your husband, Leon, to come back to. He had been called to an impromptu mission earlier that day, and you just knew he wouldn’t be coming home at a reasonable time. So, you sacrifice your precious sleep and prepare a home-cooked meal for him to enjoy as he rests his aching body. You softly rub your droopy sleepy eyes, picturing a sad Leon standing in front of the microwave heating up some instant ramen. That is NOT how your husband is going to look tonight, and you were sure of it. Who knows how much time had passed, it seemed like these noodles would never be done, and maybe, just maybe, you could rest your eyes a little…. It couldn't hurt, right?

As sleep seductively enchants you, a hot prickly sensation overtakes you as haunting lips plant on your neck. Large sturdy arms slither around your waist, and just before you could scream bloody murder, a familiar husky voice appears. “Well well, what is this? Isn’t it a bit late for a princess like you to be awake?” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek as those last words exit his mouth. Your body immediately relaxes, the threat of a (very hot) murderer killing you as you're making homemade ramen no longer exists. Through an obviously fatigued voice, you reply, removing your hand from the pot to rest upon his scarred hand. “I didn’t want you to come home lonely and hungry..” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing how corny that sounded out loud. (Or maybe it was the steam from the noodles) Leon’s arms squeeze you gently, his head moving back to your neck. “Mmm… How sweet of you, now I feel guilty for not bringing you anything as a repayment.” Then and there you could tell what mischievous plan he was formulating in his beautiful brain. He knew your weakness, HE KNEW very well what it would do to you. And perhaps just wanting to see you squirm, he did just that. Once again pleasant goosebumps arise from your neck as Leon kisses your neck, purposely letting his stubble graze your sensitive skin. You can't tell if you want to scream or say other things that will not be mentioned. You start to giggle, his touch heating up your whole body. Just like he imagined, you squirm beneath his touch, softly grasping at his arms that were keeping you captive. Oh but he doesn't stop, in fact it almost encourages him to keep going. It feels like lava is pooling in your stomach, and butterflies are traveling up your throat, transforming into those sugary sweet giggles he craves to hear. His steamy breath ricochets off your neck, teasing you for more. “Have I messed with you enough dear? I don't think so… maybe just one mor-” The sound of bubbles boiling over the stove interrupts his snarky torture, and immediately reminds you that you were supposed to be watching the noodles. “Oh..” You squeak. Leon finally releases you, spinning you around to look at him while also turning the heat down on the stove. Placing one calloused hand along your jaw, he kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for this love, but after we eat, don't think I’m done with you..” He winks.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy infinite darkness #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #made this for my wife

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 4 hours

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[The Last Dance] Simon “Ghost” Riley*Reader

Hurt and a bit of comfort? maybe?

poor Simon, someone please send me some fluff ideas for him or I’m unable to stop writing angst about him. (cuz that’s the only thing in my note for him)

word count: 744

You never visit his dreams.

Every day he’s a walking corpse, mindlessly doing what he should done, saying goodnight to his teammates, and coming back to his quarter, hoping he can see you one more time.

but he never dreams of you these days, despite how desperate he is.

“You need some rest, I can give you a few weeks of leave, Simon.” He simply shakes his head at Price’s suggestion.

There’s no home waiting for him anymore, a haven for him to sleep soundly.

Until the night Simon deems he hit his limits, you finally appear in his dream.

There stood you, at the quiet bay you two always date, your usual smile lingering on the face imprinted in his heart.

He runs, stumbles a few times maybe, but he never stops his feet until he’s in front of you.

“Simon.”

“I fucking miss you... god...” He pulls you into his arms immediately, squeezing hard so you won’t flee from him by any chance.

He just buries his face to hide his sobs as you rub his back comfortingly.

“You should move on, honey.” You break the silence first.

“How am I supposed to?” He can feel his face stained with tears, but he pays no mind to it, eyes never leave yours, letting them stream his sorrow down.

“Remember the dance we always do?” As he leans into your fingers that are wiping his tears, he hears you ask softly.

“I never forget.”

“Hey, let’s do it again, yeah?”

Your soft hands — cold, he notices — guide him to the proper posture, and leads the dance start.

He remembers the first day you tried to teach him the dance, and he reluctantly agreed.

He remembers the first time he didn’t step on your toes, and you praised him cheerfully.

He remembers those days he held you close and giggled with you during the dance, at here.

Swaying slowly along you, waltzing in a graceful circle, you sing the music just like you always did when dancing with him.

As you breeze to the last tone, both of you stop at the same place, nothing moves except the waves hitting the cliff beneath.

“Better now?”

“No.” He admits through a hiccup.

“Still so honest huh” you laugh “but listen to me, Simon.”

He lets you cradle his face in your palms, he hates that your hands are so cold, unlike the warmth he stole from you in winter.

“You can find a way to remember me, but don’t let me leash you in the past.”

“Keep going, my love, protect those people that you love when they’re still aside.”

The seriousness on your face is what he never gets from you before, he just stares at you, and eventually, nods his head.

“That’s my man.”

You let go of him, satisfied.

“Time to go now” you take a look at the sky and face him again. “before that, can you smile for me one last time? You know I love it.”

“I’m bloody ugly right now.” He sighs, but he still manages to pull his lips into a contorted grin.

“Well, true”

“but still the most handsome man for me.”

- - - - - -

Simon opens his eyes.

4 am, the clock indicates, earlier than the alarm he set, but he has a plan today.

“Only one day off?” Price crooks his eyebrows when he signs the paper for Simon to have permission to leave.

“Yeah, one day’s enough.”

Walking to the parking lot, he jumps into his car and starts driving to his destination.

The tranquil feelings he hasn’t experienced for months accompany him on his journey to the bay.

Everything’s the same as he visited here last time. Still a silent bay without people, the sea spuming over the cliff, filling the air with soothing crashes of the surf.

He’s afraid of visiting here after you leave, the emptiness is deafening without your singing.

Unsurprisingly, the hollow in his heart becomes more painful as he steps to the same spot in his dream last night.

Yet still, he gazes at the ocean for a good while, and chants out the song lowly.

The cavity in his bleeding heart starts healing.

#cod imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley angst #queued post

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mikkomacko · 2 days

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After reading the recent chapter of Him & I, the image of teen Nico and the others trying to adjust to life in NJ has me in a chokehold lol

May I request for any shenanigans our boys may have gotten into during their first few months in the states? 👀

Stop I love this request! Just a bunch of silly teen boys in a new country together haha

Thanks so much requesting! Let me know if you want some more funny moments between the guys

~~~~

“Nico, I love you man but when am I gonna get my own bed?”

Timo is sprawled out across the queen size bed, McDonald’s fries and a burger resting in his lap. It’s been his obsession food for the last month they’ve been in Jersey and Nico is patently waiting for the day it all makes him sick.

“I’m trying Timo,” he huffs, looking up from the hoard of emails he’s been sifting through. His first order of business when he got to Jersey was finding something in the area to invest in. That something was a beloved bar in the area that had been shut down a few years ago and now he’s trying to build it all back up. “A few more weeks and I’ll look for somewhere new, ok?”

The apartment is nice, not a penthouse but large and luxurious. Enough to keep them all comfortable until he can afford an equally nice place for everyone. Technically leased under Nico’s name, it’s his permanent home now. And the home of the friends he brought with him. Three bedrooms in all, but Jesper and Jonas brought their girls with them, and Nico felt it was best they got rooms for themselves. Leaving him and Timo to double-up unless someone wanted the couch.

“Not that I don’t like the bonding,” Timo laughs, shoveling fries into his mouth. “I just didn’t realize how much of a cuddler you are.”

“Shut up!” Nico grumbles, cheeks heating up. He’s not that much of a cuddler, it just happens. It doesn’t help that Timo is such a bed hog either. What else is he supposed to do when his friend is rolling onto his side of the bed?

Timo snickers, hitting play on the next episode of Friends. Nico goes back to work, approving orders and installs for the bar so that it’ll be ready to open by the end of the month. Eventually the loud, smacking footfall of Jonas float in and the elder Swiss boy’s head is poking into the master bedroom.

“What are you watching?” He ask innocently, and Timo pats the bed next to him. That’s all the invitation Jonas needs before he’s crashing into the mattress, settling against the headboard and stealing some chicken nuggets from Timo.

“Ladies at work tonight?” Timo asks him, and he nods. Nola and Nicole had both gotten work together at a fancy clothing store a few streets down. The pay isn’t great, but they’re able to save up and support themselves with Nico taking care of housing and food for everyone. And once the bar is up and running, him and the boys will have more work to do.

Jonas pulls out his phone, sending a text that’s barely buzzed in the group chat before Jesper is running into the room as well. He shoves Nico’s beanie down over his eyes, leaping onto the bed with the other boys.

Nico yanks the hat off, tossing it towards the closet and refocusing. He doesn’t even get five minutes of work done before Jesper is calling for him.

“What?”

“Come on boss,” he teases “working too hard. Join us in bed.”

Nico rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You’re not my type.”

“Which one of us?”

“All of you.” Nico deadpans, looking up over his screen to find them all staring at him with puppy dog eyes.

“You love friends, come watch.” Jonas tells him. “I’ll let you sit next to Timo so you can snuggle?”

They all bust out laughing and it’s enough to get Nico to close his laptop. Rising from the desk, he pads over to the bed and knees his way up between Jonas and Timo.

He settles into the pillows, crossing his arms over his chest. Timo and Jonas are warm on either side of him, everyone’s biceps pressed tight against each other as they squish together.

Sometimes when Nico’s here, just him and his friends from home without thinking of everything he has to do, everything that comes with being the boss, he remembers his age. Still freshly 18 with too much money in his bank account and a responsibility to take care of the five other people he’s drug into this with him.

It makes him feel small. In a safe way though, because he’s got the people that believe in him and have his back. He’s got the Devs with him.

Maybe Jesper is right, maybe he is working too hard to make this work because he wakes up in the morning to a photo of him sleeping on Timo’s shoulder, a an arm and leg thrown over his best friends body.

#him and i #mob boss Nico blurb #mob boss Nico hischier #timo meier #jonas siegenthaler #jesper bratt #him and I blurb #requested

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kernyen-xo · 16 hours

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Here we go. It’s a long one.

My aunt is dying. Any day now, her son told the family. So, everyone flocked to see her, including mom, which entailed a 17-hour train ride from San Diego to Sacramento. My brother and I usually meet up in Bakersfield to deliver the momster because she refuses to fly and now refuses to take the train. Of course, doing the Bakersfield thing is a pain, especially if you’re not a morning person because I have to leave by 4:30 am to make sure I’m in Bakersfield by 10. Now, really, I’m glad for it in the end because I’m back home by 2:30-3p.

This time around, mom had to take the train because she was afraid her sister would die before she got to see her. So, mom was insistent she had to leave asap, which meant no Bakersfield trip since my brother and I had to work.

Easy-peasy.

That is, except this last weekend. Mom arrived Friday night near midnight (17-hour train ride, remember?). The next day we see Auntie Sally. That night, I go to the birthday celebration for me, the kid, and grandkid. Mom didn’t want to go.

Anyway.

I assumed my brother and I would meet up in Bakersfield the following weekend, which is a-ok. I have plenty of time to rest and mentally rev myself for the trip, which is something I need to do. Otherwise, without this precious time, I don’t handle it well.

Guess what? Mom wants to leave the next day. I’m like, wait, what? But, I just say ok and quietly freak out inside. This really changes everything. I tell my granddaughter, who is staying the weekend with me to shower at night, that all she has to do is roll out of bed the next am and get in the car where she can sleep.

Easy-peasy, right?

Except, when we arrive in Bakersfield, my brother is not at our meeting place. He’s always there first - always. The guy is an extreme morning person, up every day by 4am. In fact, I thought it was weird that he didn’t call once asking me for an update of my progress.

Long story short. I know, too late.

He thought the mom delivery wasn’t taking place until the following weekend. I was thinking, ok, we’ll head back home and try this again next weekend. But mom? No way. She refuses to go and suggests I leave her there to wait for my brother. Really? Like, I’d do that, and she knows I’d never do that.

So, after drinking a lot of beverages, shopping at WalMart and Nordstrom’s Rack, my brother arrives. He must have booked it because what’s usually almost a 5-6 hour drive, he made it in 3.

The grandkid and me were home by 6:30. I apologized to her for how the day went. She said, what a day! I agreed. We really didn’t get to spend quality time together. I was supposed to take her home that night, but I was so exhausted that I asked if the kid could take her instead, which she did.

The last-minute trip was hard on me. I remember the days when I could drive in a pinch no problem! Those days are gone. I missed work on Monday to recuperate. Ya, this old gal ain’t what she used to be.

And now, I need to get ready for work.

Thx for reading.

Have a good day :)

Toods!

#this has been a kernyen update #20240425

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 9 hours

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So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?

Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.

If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.

Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.

What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).

On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.

Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]

The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.

Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.

Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]

She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.

Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.

If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]

Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.

So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.

And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.

Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:

Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.

Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]

Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]

Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.

Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.

#sorry this took so long!#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dame aylin #isobel thorm #lorroakan #datamine #voice lines #audio #i'm stopping myself here but i could go on about this FOREVER #time for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort let's goooooooooo #oathkeeper replies to things

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