#I tried to go with some lesser known names + a few more known ones

[magma-club-kinhelp]

Name idea for Cuteguy

Dart

Archer

Koral

Ivory

Iole

Aleron

Alula

Clover

Theora

Ward

#I tried to go with some lesser known names + a few more known ones #hope this list might help you find your favorite! #and if you want to use this as a jumping off point; feel free! #<come get your snacks :D> - request completed #cuteguy kin #fictionkin #hermitcraft kin #if you want me to remove the hermitcraft kin tag just send in an ask!

[littlestpersimmon]

Guy with cataracts and scarred from an explosion has a fail toymaking shop in front of a rundown temple and he has a crush on a disfigured lowly priestess whom he suspects is a stealth trans guy because she always picks the boy option when they play board games (he’s right btw)

He's from Kalantiaw, but his mom is diaspora, and I thought her to be half "Japanese" (coded) - still trying to figure out how japanese ethnicities come to play.

She was a sailor turned pirate. She didn't know the language spoken in Kalantiaw (more akin to Khmer), and she spoke a different language (more austronesian), and she named him Kahilingan, which means "wish". But in Kalantiaw, where she settled, his name means "curse" or "bad omen" 💀 it doesn't help that her life ended with the beginning of his. So.

Kahi spends much of his life chasing the image of his mom and trying to.... live up to her- because sailing is the most esteemed occupation in their world. Only very very very very very few people have managed to work on "dragonships".

Basically, their world is physically broken (like living on an asteroid belt) and they sail to and fro each sundering / country on specialized stone ships called "dragonships" / "bakunawa"- and the ships themselves are semi-alive? They're like.. Stone ships laminated with the spirits of devas and dragons and other great beings who have all died because of (redacted).

Anyway, his mom, Maaya, was a renowned sailor- she tamed a dragonship that was imbued with an infamously wild dragon called Duksa- Dragonships are Sponsored, but those who sponsor the ships are almost never in command, and they also easily lose ownership to their hired captains- because the ships themselves are sentient, and they never obey anyone who they deem are incapable of commanding them. Only Maaya could control Duksa hehe. So she became known throughout all their world as this wild woman who loved fast boats and only accepted voyage commissions "if they are very fun". Anyways blah blah blah she fell in love w Kahi's other parent (who is nonbinary) and she got pregnet with him. And they eventually settled in Kalantiaw, in it's countryside near the subterranean capital (Kamharik).

Kahi always annoyed his other parent abt his mom because he too wanted to meet Duksa, but his parent kept warning him not to go near the ship because after Maaya died, it went even more mad with grief. Kahi more of an engineer than a captain like his mom, but his goal was simply to acquaintance with Duksa rather than actually captain her. But Duksa did not accept anyone, not even anyone who was part of Maaya's original crew.. Kahi went to an apprenticeship on shipbuilding-

he became somewhat popular for being clever with his hands, and all around Kalantiaw, everyone thought of him as reliable and very creative when it came to problem solving. So he went from normal ships to fixing dragonships.. ..

The Greatest dragonships are ones that are imbued with the spirits of actual ancient dragons and qilin, bc some are imbued with "lesser" dragons or false dragons, and some are with non-dragon albeit great spirits- like minor gods, wind spirits, phoenix,naga, etc etc..

Duksa was a true and great dragon, and Kahi knew that she was suffering from severe neglect, so all he wanted was to patch her up-

Everyone, every single one of Kahi's peers discouraged him, bc it is known that anyone who even approaches her is immediately kilIed by her; but Kahi, he is different. When he approaches Duksa, she was a shadow of herself, a ghost ship- She senses Maaya, and she even thought that Kahi was her at first- so she lets Kahi patch her big crabclaw sails, fixed her boilers and really tried to replicate how she used to look when Maaya lived.. and Duksa didn't know it wasn't her, because her eyes were covered in barnacles.. The "eyes" of a dragonship is its lodestar, and Kahi was purposefully saving it for last because he is frightened of what Duksa could do to him;;

But before that, Duksa spoke to him, joked like "ah beauty, what happened to you?! Your voice sounds like you swallowed a frog.. are you ill? Why did you abandon me?" Fhjsjs

"Why are your hands so gentle now? I want you to be rough!! Stop this at once! I am not old!"

But when Kahi started scraping finally at the lodestar, and he opened Duksa's eyes to the world once more, she cried in great anger because who tf was this intruder! And why did he carry Maaya's spirit with him !!!

Her entire deck creaked so hard the floorboards broke again, and she swayed her whole body so Kahi nearly fell from the lodestar;; he tried to reason with her, and it sort of mirrors how his mom tamed Duksa. She barrelled in head on and confidently, but Kahi was meek and gentle.

Eitherway.. an angry dragonship is like highly radioactive, its like being in a storm in a contained environment, and she started puffing steam- it's like microdosing being in fukushima; And she called Kahi a fool, he'll never measure up to Maaya, he will never be her- aaaah, but she didn't kiIl him. Maybe because she knew he was Maaya's boy. She warned him never to return, and tossed him into the open shallows. So, he was absolutely brokenhearted. He was 19.

~intense lonely lovestory between him and a closeted trans guy raised by mean transphobic priestesses in a cult the antithesis of a loving and wise lesbian death goddess occurs.~

There she is.. her name is Viharana Magayarin

Names-

Maaya's name is spelled a certain way in kanji, I want it to mean "True"

Duksa's name is Tagalog, it means "grief"

Kahilingan's name is tagalog- and it means "wish". Inspired from.. in tagalog, "curse" is a contronym of sorts- "curse" and "promise" is the same word ("sumpa")

Kahi's trans boyfriend's name is Tala, and it means "star" 😌

#dalayangan

[princess-ibri]

For the Descendants kids with horrible and trashy names, how would you name them? From books and movies.

So I'll just go ahead and give how I changed each name for My Canon Descendants AU, to make them feel more like their own character/fit better with the og movies time periods/cultures. I didn't give them all unique names as the point of the project was to translate the Descendants kids into the actual movies, not make full OCs, (though I did end up making a few of those anyway xD) but I tried to at least adjust them.

Mal--Mallow (to go with the Nature name theme the Three Good Fairies had going on with their own names/Briar Rose)

Audrey I kept as it was actually a Medieval name!

Evie-- Eva, it's a pretty easy fix to more period accurate/Germanic sounding

Doug -- Doleful, to fit better with the Dwarfs Attribute names, plus he seemed kinda down in the first movie so the meaning felt like it fit

Carlos I kept because honestly I felt like it could fit in universe if Cruella's husband was a Spanish man, which he conceivabley could be

Jay--Jaamil, and no not because of Twisted Wonderland that just happened by accident xD

They orginally had Aladdin's deleted sin be named Aziz but there was already an Aladdin character named that in the TV show who was a villain so I changed it to Ahmed, like one of the other Arabian Nights heroes

Ben--I changed from Benjamin to Benedict as that was more French/period appropriate

Honestly I could 100% see Gaston naming his sons after himself so I kept Gastons 1 and 2 but I changed Gil to Gilbert (French pronunciation of course)

Lonnie...oh Lonnie. I changed her name to Chi, as with her patronymic of Li she would be Li Chi, which sounded similar to Lonnie but would actually be Chinese and is the name of a girl in a Chinese legend who slays a dragon, which was what I based her hypothetical movie plot on

Chad I changed to Charles, easy enough. Much more elegant and formal

Jane I just changed to Janet to make it a little fancier/Frenchier as well xD

Dizzy I changed to Daisy (though I suppose since she's French based, it really should be Marguerite...eh Daisy can be the nickname)

Uma I kept cuz honestly its a good name and her song is a banger 👌

Harry is fine, good pirate name, short for Henry, which also works. Harriet was fine too, just made her and Harry twins and made CJ go by her first name only of Calista.

Honestly with a pirate dad named Smee Squeeky and Squirmy also work, though they're definitely nicknames.

Celia works fine, it fits with the time/culture of 1920s New Orleans, though I did change Freddie to Frederique.

Getting into some book characters now:

Artie I changed to Amhar, a lesser known son of Arthur (could have done Mordred but as the kid was meant to be heroic I decided to go with Amhar, plus it started with A x)

Mad Maddy honestly isn't a bad name, but I did change it to Matilda to be a bit more Medieval sounding, plus linked her to Matilda of the Night, a Medieval witch legend.

(And apparently there's gonna be a son of Morgana Le Fay in the new movie named... Morgie. My gosh. Well we'll change that right back to Yvain. Her actual son, no she's not Mordred's mother no matter what the movies try to tell you she's his aunt and I will die on this pedantic hill)

Hadie I instantly changed to Zagreus. He's the literal son of Hades and goodness its such a better name. Same with changing Herkie to Hyllus. Also an actual son of Hercules and doesn't sound like a euphemism for throwing up.

Allie I changed to Mary Jean after the Real Alice's grandaughter, and when I made my Queen of Hearts Kid D4 hadn't been announced yet so I named her Aceline (a pun on Ace of Hearts)

Ruby and Anxelin weren't terrible names so I kept them, just made Anxelin a Dark Kingdom name xD (and apparently they're giving Rapunzel a third daughter in the new movie? Her name is just Zellie though...so I think I'll just keep these two. Zellie could definitely work as being short for Anxelin and hey, Rapunzel had twins in the actual fairytale so two just works)

Wrapping it up:

Claudine isnt too bad and fits the time period but I changed her parent from Frollo to his brother Jehan cuz that man should never ever get to be with any woman.

Clay Clayton I changed to Cecil after the actual Clayton character in the books who wasn't that bad of a guy.

Yzla works fine as a name for Yzma's daughter. I just changed Zevon to Yzon to match better and not sound so much like he escaped the 23rd century

Ginny Gothel I just lengthened out to Ginevra to sound more fantastical

I didn't actually do anything for Pocahontas as it always kinda controversial to touch. But if I did I'd of course just make her descendant her actual son Thomas Rolfe and apparently they gave Ratcliffe a son named Rick? So...we'll change his name to Richard or--well one sec let me see if Actual Historical Governor Ratcliffe had any kids.

OK! Looks like he didn't but he did die horribly. My Gosh.

Anyway I think that's everyone!

#asks #disney #Descendants #canon descendants #descendants rewrite #vks #hks #disney princesses #disney villains #disney heroes #disney movies

[moonlight-tmd]

Oh? God Bee?? Please tell us more.

OOOH BOY I WILL TELL YOU MORE AND BEYOND-

SO- In this AU, Bumblebee is secretly a lesser deity (more known as celestial lords). One of many that guard and sometimes interact with the mortal world for fun. Nobody knows about the lesser gods anymore because their cults have died out and worship was forgotten long ago and the knowledge about religions is only kept in deep archives for the sake of keeping track of history. The only knowledge about gods that survived to this day is about Primus and Unicron- the "good" and the "evil" halves that function and fight with each other to maintain balance, kind of like Yin Yang.

Bumblebee's god name is Beisilan, he's a Celestial Lord of Dreams and Wishes, Patron of misfits and all things out-of-place. His domain is Dream Realm and his duty is to make and keep guard of dreams and nightmares. He is also the one the mortals summon to make their wishes come true- signing pacts, deals, etc. He's the most social of the deities, per se.

He's known to be mischevious, curious and playful (and deranged) but also dangerous- he's the one that tugs at the strings of luck and steers the wind that pushes you in certain directions in life.

I've allowed myself to sketch a little something for the reference-

In his god form he's a tad bigger than his mortal frame (although he can change size at will), he has additional arms and 5 eyes cuz as stated previously, he's with misfits (plus he likes to be the odd one out). He also has 6 glowing ribbons that he can control like tentacles sticking from his back. He's levitating most of the time because why should he be restricted to ground. He also has that godly glow to him, you ever seen Disney's Hercules? Kind of like the gods there have.

So- I imagine he comes down to mortal realm and gives himself a mortal frame to posses until it dies. And this continues on, with some neons of breaktime between each lifetime, and currently he's Bumblebee-

The way he met Team Prime is very much different from the original events- it was Optimus, Ratchet, Bulkhead and freshly picked up and intergrated Prowl on the team. Their ship was drifting in space so theu could do some stuff and something hit the wing, Bulk and Prowl were send to check and maybe fix the damage but instead of an asteroid they saw a little yellow bot, frosted over and greyish in color limply hanging from the wing. Of course they pulled it into the ship and got it to the ship's medbay immediately. When the bot woke up few joors later they got to learn his name was Bumblebee. He didn't remember what happened, only that he was thrown out of the ship and left to die. The team kept him, Bee was very adamant on staying with them and from what he said his skills could come in handy for them.

They become closer and end up on Earth afterwards. Everything is quite normal no once but them is on the planet yet,... until one day Team Prime goes to investigate some strange activity and find a group of stray mechs trying to do a ritual of some sorts- turns out they weren't the only ones on the planet, just the area. And that group is seemingly trying to do some cult stuff. They have few encounters before the cult group captured Team Prime to use in the sacrifice to summon something. And so coincidentally, the leader chose Bee to sacrifice. (Inspired by Bad Feeling by Jagwar Twin)

They place him in the ritual circle with all the sigils n stuff and do the rites. Team Prime tries their best to get themselves free while Bee seems more awkward than scared- then teh whole area inside the circle dills with white fire... nothing happens. The leader glances at the other cult folks and tries to figure something out. In the meantime- Bee pokes his helm up from the fire and stands up while shaking his wrist free off molten metal that used to be stasis cuffs. "Yeah, this sacrificial ritual really lacks the 'sacrificial' part..."

He bickers with the leader who tries to go near and grab him, thinking the fire is safe. But the moment he sticks his servo inside the circle the flames burn and melt half of it off. Everyone just stares shocked and quite alarmed as to why the fire harmed the cult folk and is not harming Bee- a minute later Bee snickers and burst out laughing... but then the laugh glitches a bit and he sounds like he's laughing his insanity out. He throws his servos up and falls back, after he submerged in fire there is just silence. The same leader cult folk that tried to grab him goes near, carefully looking if the bot is dead already- but the moment he gets too close some yellow figure launches out, grabs him and pulls him into the fire with it.

The fire that was once white turns vibrant yellow and with a small explosion, a figure emerges... at brief glance it looked normal but no... the figue stretched, its 4 arms making sure they were seen. Then 2 of its eyes blink open before the other 3 open as well. Its mouth forms a big almost-painful-to-look-at grin, sharp teeth glaring at them. The thing's build was odd, almost resembling a build of someone starving. But most noticable detail- the one that told them this somehow was Bee- was the voice; it was choir-like, few tones of similar voices speaking at once but one tone prominent the most, the tone of Bumblebee's voice. "It feels good~... Been a long while since I done this."

The creature didn't introduce itself, only seemed curious and kept guessing what the summoners might want- which resulted in a rather annoying and disappointed moment when the summoners had no idea who they summoned instead of whoever they tried to summon. So obviously, it had to explain. And what a better way to explain that a musical! (Alastor's Game by The Living Tombstone. The song is exactly the same with exception of few words; "-give mr. Alastor Beisilan a call."-be your sweet, radio mischevious demon.")

As the song goes on Beisilan show different aspect of himself- from proposing a pact scroll to the cultist folks to making everyone delve into the odd nightmareish plane for brief seconds before pulling them to a side and showing them all the things they want. Team Prime has a brief moment of seeing their perfect world before it turns to dust and flees to the cultist who do their things and then they see them 'get posessed'. ("did i mention that you're cursed?")

Then they have a brief flashes of places that match the lyrics and at the end, Team Prime is not chained up near the ritual site but instead standing free some distance away from the summoning ring and watches as the mindless cultists stand around the circle and have stringst wrapped around their necks as to show they are bound. The creature finished singing and bows and then just like it appeared, it disappeared in a burst of flames along with the cultists...

Team Prime had a short moment to recollect and try to think what happened before, even when it said its leaving, the same creature that sang comments something from behind them. The reactions are amusing to it. After a bit of wordplay and insane giggles, the creature introduces itself as Beisilan. He explains that he's Bee and not Bee and all that confusing stuff but he does like the bunch so he is their friend and they are stuck with him. He doesn't say what happened to the cultists, only that "they paid the price a little early" and that they shouldn't worry about them. Team Primes leaves as told so Bei can 'clean up' the ritual site, he also tells them to not speak of it again. They only see Bee again next morning.

Sari wasn't there so she never knew. Or at least until some other events in the future that i will save for another post cuz this one is fucking long. I still kept it as short and on point as possible.

Hope you enjoyed reading my nonsense. Expect it to be added to the AU list now that you made me write about it.

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #tfa bumblebee #tfa au #celestial!bee au #long post #moon derg art

[genshin-scenarios]

Reunion: Preparations for a Trip [Part 6]

Read the first series (Adopt a Wanderer) here! An AU where Scaramouche/Wanderer gets isekaied to your world - a found-family series.

Summary: You have an audience with the Dendro Archon, and make plans to travel to Liyue!

Warnings: contains spoilers of Wanderer’s story in the archon quest!

Wordcount: 1473

Part 1

Part 5 &lt;-

After deciding that you’d like to travel to Liyue since you were already in Teyvat, Kuni was quick to find an excuse to leave Sumeru and accompany you. One condition he hadn’t foreseen though, was Nahida asking to be introduced to his ‘new friend’.

The dendro archon is not what one would call severe or intimidating. Despite her powers over dreams and reading people’s minds, she is known as a benevolent and kind god. You said the same when Kuni asked for your opinion on Nahida, which is how he finds himself in his current predicament - watching you and her hit it off in conversation. Namely conversation about him.

Nahida has the gall to ask you about what foods he likes, what he does in his free time, and other meaningless details that you for some reason are perfectly happy to divulge. Kuni thinks this is an invasion of privacy, while you think Nahida is just asking this for fun, seeing as anyone that observed him for long enough would know the answers to these questions.

“Are you done?” Kuni speaks up from the side of the room, where he’s been lounging in perfect distance to overhear everything. “When you said you wanted to meet Y/N, one would expect you to ask about them rather than me.”

“But they’re the only person that knows you so well! How could I pass off this chance?” Nahida chimes back with a smile. “I’m just glad that your relationship seems to be good. You hadn’t thought of anything particularly negative even though we were gossiping about you.”

“And tell me why were you reading my thoughts instead of theirs?”

“Because I can’t.”

The surprise in the room echoes with resounding silence. Nahida muses to herself, placing her teacup back onto its saucer.

“Lesser Lord— Nahida.” You try to suppress your confusion. “You can’t read my thoughts?”

“Nope. This is the first time I’ve encountered this, too.” She taps her chin. “Perhaps it simply has to do with your origins from another world. I’m a little disappointed, seeing as your dreams would’ve been very interesting to explore. With that said, this means my ability to help you find a way back home might be more limited than I thought.”

Kuni tries not to appear too relieved at that statement. You do the same, though both reactions don’t go unnoticed by Nahida, who takes another sip of tea to mask her amusement.

“Well, would you look at that?” Kuni says. “You’re not as un-extraordinary as we both thought.”

“It’s good to know you’re always my number one supporter at times like these.” You deadpan.

True to her prior agreement, Nahida doesn’t push about your mysterious source of information or attempt to seal you away. She can tell you don’t pose a threat to Teyvat in general, and seemed to be quite conscious about guarding your knowledge about the future.

All in all, a responsible person. Nahida arrives at her verdict. “Your condition seems healthy, so there should be no issues with you traveling around nations. So long as you don’t do anything that spreads the awareness of your knowledge to other parties, Kuni should be able to keep you safe. Just let me know if you ever need help with anything! I’m willing to write off the next few weeks as community service on his part.”

Nahida really does feel like Kuni’s guardian figure at times like these; their interactions are pretty wholesome.

“Thank you so much!” You bow your head in respect, before turning to Kuni. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself.” He rolls his eyes before walking towards the exit. “If that’s all, I’ll just wait outside. I’m sure there’s stuff you want to ask the God of Wisdom.”

“We won’t be long!” You call out to Kuni, who waves his hand over his shoulder dismissively. Once he’s out of the room, you peer at Nahida - your previous confidence and bravado settling into something more nuanced. “I… I’m sorry if my presence here - in general, causes any complications.”

“I already said that you’re welcome to continue your stay, and I meant every word.” Nahida meets your gaze warmly. “Though I do not share the same burdens of knowledge as you do, my intuition tells me that you mean well. And if you could earn Kuni’s trust, that only furthers my judgment.” She trails off, refocusing the conversation. “...But that’s not what you wanted to ask me about.”

There are a hundred questions you’d like the answer to, such as the science of what allowed you and Kuni to meet all those years ago. But instead, you ask Nahida something that only you can decide for yourself. Such are the woes of human worries, to hope for an outside source to reassure or make grating decisions for you. 

“Do you think I should distance myself from all this?” You purse your lips. “I’m sure you can tell that the Traveler will be an important part of this world’s future. Maybe I should just live a quiet life until I’m returned home, and avoid interacting with those who are a part of their story.”

“Would that involve leaving Kuni behind?”

Feeling a lump in your throat, you look down at your lap. “Technically speaking, none of us would remember anything once I go home, if things worked the same as before… It’ll conclude like none of this ever happened.” That would also mean we’re spending stolen time.

Nahida reaches across the table and places her hand over yours. It’s small, but comforting. Like a leaf offering shade to a tiny animal. “Is that what you want, or are you simply feeling guilty about gaining positives from this situation?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Think about it this way.” Nahida says. “In a world where so many things are out of our control, would it be so selfish to claim what we can as ours, and spend our time doing what makes us happiest?” Her voice falls quieter. “Sometimes it’s not about what’s wrong or correct, but what’s right for us. You would not be the worst person for living by that reasoning.”

What decision would make you happier, and what feels right to you?

Dropping Kuni all of a sudden without asking for his opinion beforehand… after all he’s done for you, would most certainly feel ‘wrong’. Treacherous, even.

It seems you’ve come to a decision after all.

-

“How was the talk?” Kuni asks as you pick out supplies from a shop. You seemed a little happier after leaving the room with Nahida, who bid the both of you a safe trip in advance.

The Dendro Archon also asked for a souvenir as part of his ‘assignment’, but that’s the least of his worries for now (he’s quite sure you’ll end up buying things for Nahida anyways, with how fond you seem of her).

“She really is wise - and kind.” You smile, a bit of cheek entering your tone. “It does feel a little like nepotism to have the chance to meet her, though. You’re quite connected, ‘Hat Guy’.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know that nickname.” He sighs, but is otherwise satisfied with your answer. Looks like whatever question you had for Nahida has been aptly answered. “There’s still an entire day ahead of us. If we leave now, we can arrive at Liyue before dinnertime.”

“Sounds good! Just let me pack some items from home and I’ll be good to go.” Your chipper mood comes to a pause as reality hits you. “W-Wait… we’ll be walking, right?”

“The entire way. Running included for you if we run into any monsters.”

“Suddenly, I’m starting to feel like being a homebody isn’t so bad after all…”

“If you hurry we can hitch-hike on someone’s carriage.”

Giving Kuni a salute, you duck into the treehouse as soon as you reach the door. “Aye aye, captain! Ow!”

Kuni gives you the grace of ignoring how you ran into the table. “By hurry, I meant under fifteen minutes. I’d like to not lug an unconscious person to Liyue.”

“You should’ve said that before I mortally wounded myself!”

“If you can still talk, you’re fine.”

Shenanigans aside, Kuni realizes this would be your second time going on a trip together. There’s no train to take or websites to book last-minute accommodations, but the look in your eyes says you have a pretty solid idea of where to go and what to do.

Hah, it seems that even now, you were still the leader in some ways. It doesn’t feel too bad, though. Things are a little less boring when he’s around you - whether it be in the way you treat him, react to his comments, or your outlander origins. It feels a little bit like having a ‘home’.

.

.

.

-> Part 7 (finale)

#genshin scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer x you #genshin impact balladeer #genshin x reader #genshin writing #genshin reader insert #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x you #traveler wishes

[sophieinwonderland]

Here's an ask that (probably) stands out: Tell us, your followers, about a time where you or someone else from your system rolled a natural 20. (Figuratively speaking.)

Ghost: Soph spent a long time trying to figure out a good answer to this and drew blanks. She did come up with several but they all seemed too boring to her. So I'll snag this one.

And share a picture of my Maleficent!

I don't collect Funko Pops. Never had even the slightest interest in them. But Maleficent here is surprisingly one of my most cherished possessions.

Something you need to know about me is that I don't put myself out there. Ever. I like Reddit because it's safe. Nobody knows who I am there. Nobody even remembers my user name. Even on here, there's a reason I was more than happy just being known as "the host" for the first year of Soph's blog, only settling on Ghost when we decided to have a system blog.

The few times I've tried to dip my toes into something, I get scared and back out.

Being like I am, I don't actually have many accomplishments to speak of.

But I do have this one so I'm going to talk about it.

Some years back, I signed up with a fan website called... um... you know, I can't for the life of me remember what that site was called.

But that doesn't matter. There was a fan website where you could post articles, and I had recently read about The Disney Theory. This theory attempted to link together all Disney movies into a shared universe, using cameos from the various films to tie them together.

Now I grew up in the 2000s, with cartoons like Lilo & Stitch, Kim Possible and American Dragon: Jake Long. All of these shows crossed over, placing them in the same universe. And with Lilo and Stitch, they could be linked to the wider shared Disney Universe.

In American Dragon: Jake Long, there was a character called The Dark Dragon. As you can see here:

The Dark Dragon's color scheme bears a striking resemblance to a classic Disney villain. I'm sure you can guess who.

The Dark Dragon ends up getting a makeover in season 2 with a different color scheme with the purple replaced by dark blue, but the sharp purple spikes on his back get replaced with jutting black spines resembling Maleficent's dragon form.

They clearly wanted the Dark Dragon to retain his Maleficent influence, even if in a different way.

Additionally, Maleficent functions like the dragons in ADJL, having both a normal form and a dragon form.

Working off of these intentional design motifs and their connection through the Disney Theory, I theorized that the two were related somehow.

The theory that I presented was that Maleficent is the half-fairy daughter of the Dark Dragon.

And she likely would have been the World Dragon of her area. A World Dragon is a dragon that presides over a specific country in ADJL. I don't recall if the term "world dragon" is used in the show or if it's just a fan term, but the concept is very much present in the show. It's why Jake isn't just an American dragon, but he's "The American Dragon."

This would further contextualize Maleficent anger at being snubbed from Aurora's birth. World Dragons are supposed to be guardians of the magical. And during this period, humans and magical creatures were closely connected. One would imagine that a World Dragon would be highly respected, making it a severe insult when lesser fairies (who she refers to as "rabble") are invited but Maleficent is snubbed.

The site's staff would select a number of articles every week for their top list, and mine made it!

And then they sent this Maleficent Funko Pop with a letter congratulating me for making it into the top 16.

It may not be a huge accomplishment, but I'm proud of it. And I think it was really cool of them to personalized the Funko Pop to what the article was about.

To someone else, that Maleficent is a $10 toy. But to me, it's a trophy.

Unfortunately, despite common wisdom, things on the internet are not, in fact, forever. I believe the site I posted that theory on no longer exists today. But I still have my Maleficent.

#ghost post

[pengychan]

[Baldur’s Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 9

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.

*** Well it took only 50k words but here we are, time to go to Hell. It's probably not going to be smooth sailing from here is it. ***

For the first few weeks in the Hells - in Mephistar, he’d been told, the citadel from which his sire ruled Cania - Raphael read and read and read until he felt as though his eyes would fall out of their sockets. And then he’d read some more. 

Back-- home -- in the Material Plane, he’d thought he’d done a good job at learning all he could about the Nine Hells of Baator. Direct sources from witnesses who returned to tell the tale were admittedly rather scarce, for several good reasons that started and ended with ‘it’s the Hells’, but if any books or scrolls on the subject existed, he’d read them.

He’d learned of the nine layers and their differences, the many kinds of fiends that inhabited them, who ruled each layer. He’d learned of the Lord Below Asmodeus, of the Frozen Prince Levistus, the Iron Duke Dispater and the other Archdukes - including, of course, Mephistopheles. Second to Asmodeus alone, Lord of the Eighth, Archmage of the Hells, Lord of Hellfire.

Raphael had known his many monikers, but he had never in his wildest flights of fancy imagined the Cold Lord of Cania, of all devils, may be his sire.

As it soon turned out, there were many things he did not know. His knowledge of the Hells, which had seemed so impressive, was nothing compared to what he had yet to learn. He’d been shown to his rooms, with a window outside which he could see nothing but icy mountains; he’d been given books, and told to learn. Even what Infernal he had managed to learn back-- I want to go home -- in the Material Plane did not suffice. It was a variant used by lesser baatezu, he’d been informed with a scoff, and unsuited for Mephistopheles’ court. Of course, the variation that was required just so happened to be a great deal harder to master.

A preceptor, a tall and thin devil who looked as though a stiff gust of wind may knock him over and whose name sounded very much like the noise a cat would make while retching, came every day to check on his progress, and answer his questions. Of which Raphael had many, but one above all.

“When will my father see me?”

The answer would always come after a few moments of silence, and with a contemptuous look that told him clearly he should know better than to ask. “Lord Mephistopheles will call upon you when the time is right, little duke,” he said, using a moniker that, Raphael had quickly picked up, was meant more as mockery than as a true honorific. He wasn’t truly a duke of anything.

Still, after a few weeks, he’d tried to protest. “But he gave orders to bring me here. Surely he wants to see me?”

“It is not up to you to presume what Lord Mephistopheles wants. He will make his wishes clear when he--”

“But I’m his son!”

This time, there had been no attempt at feigning respect: his preceptor had just laughed, an unpleasant barking sound. “You’re but one of many whelps. The Lord of the Eighth shall see you when he wishes to. His right to collect what’s his doesn’t entitle you to his time. Now,” he’d added, pushing the open book towards him again before standing to leave, “do keep trying to make yourself worthy of his attention. Your pronunciation of Infernal is still woefully lacking.”

When he left, however, Raphael made no attempt to pick up the book. He huffed and pushed the door of the room open, to wander outside and distract himself from his own building frustration. Despite the howling wind and ice outside as far as the eye could see, the inside of Mephistar was heated, and the luxury all around made Fort Starspire look like a fisherman’s hut by comparison. The carpets, the tapestry, the statues - it was almost dizzying. 

And then there were the portraits. 

There were so many on nearly every wall, and many of them had the same subject - his father, Mephistopheles - but not two of them looked exactly the same because, he’d been informed, his sire could change his visage on a whim and that whim took him often enough. 

Still, there were two portrayals he saw the most. One showed a devil with huge ram-like black horns, the same crimson skin as his own, long black hair, and a pointed beard on his chin. He wore an unnerving smile as he seemed to stare back at him from the painting with dead, white eyes. Most times he was shown holding out a hand, palm up, white-hot flames dancing upon it. The Lord of Hellfire, the plaques beneath such paintings read. 

The other visage of Mephistopheles he saw portrayed the most was the one with blue skin, deep blue horns that looked more like jagged peaks, and pale blue eyes with blood red pupils. The long black hair was the same, but he lacked the beard. In these portraits, he sat upon a throne of ice. The Cold Lord, as the plaques declared.

Both portrayals were terrible and fascinating to behold, and Raphael often struggled to tear his gaze away. Especially from the former, where he’d often find himself looking for familiar features, carefully going over every small resemblance… but not that day. That day, he’d wandered among mostly empty corridors, ignoring both the mortals souls who fretted about - debtors, he’d been told, no need to address them unless you need their services - as well as the curious gazes of devils talking amongst themselves in that strangely melodious version of Infernal he so struggled with. He pretended not to notice the sneers from those who clearly knew who he was, too, even as he felt embarrassment and frustration turn to anger. 

It was all wrong. This was supposed to be his home. He was supposed to belong here, in a way he never did in the Material Plane, and yet it didn’t feel like it at all. 

Why take me here if he won’t see me? 

“It's time to join your kind,” Chamberlain Barbas has said, but Raphael had never felt more out of place, he who'd been out of place from his first breath.

At least they wanted me, in the end, he thought. Something burned in his eyes, and Raphael was quick to shut down that line of thought, because he’d open a window and throw himself off the glacier before he let anyone see him cry. 

Just as he began to think he should head back before he got lost and made a fool of himself, he suddenly heard it - a music he’d never heard before, played by some kind of instrument he’d never heard before in his life. It was a rich sound, now bright and now dark, the music trying to soar like a bird only to be shot down the next moment and flutter onto the ground, the sound now solemn and almost mourning - and then taking flight again, defiant and imperious. 

The closer he grew to the source the more he could feel the power of it, until he could think of nothing but finding out what it was that could make such a sound. Finally, he found the richly decorated double doors of the room the music was coming from, and pushed them open without thinking, just as the music faded.

The room inside was not small by any means, but much of it seemed to be occupied by the largest… something Raphael had ever seen. It looked something like a harpsichord, but much bigger and with pipes that took most of the wall. On the floor and on every surface of the room there were scattered music sheets, and on a seat in front of the instrument, hands still on the keys as the music began to die down, sat the player. Raphael opened his mouth to call out, but the door behind him closed loudly before he could, causing her to wince and turn.

Raphael did not know enough about his own kind to know exactly what they would consider beautiful, but he found she certainly was, with high cheekbones and delicate features, her hair all silver. Her skin was red as his own, her eyes pale green irises on black sclera, and her horns a paler red than the rest of her. She looked young, but… well, most devils did.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Raphael said, or at least he tried to, with very little success. Infernal was still clumsy on his tongue, the cadence all wrong, and he didn’t remember what Infernal for ‘interrupting’ even was. All that came out of his mouth was a cacophony of grating noises. He trailed off, biting his tongue, rather thankful he was no longer in his human form. Flushing did not show on crimson skin, at least. 

There was a startled pause, then a chuckle. The devil cocked her head to better look at him, moving the long braid of silvery hair from one shoulder to the other. Finally, she smiled in a way that didn’t seem to hold any of the scorn he’d seen up to that point. 

“Ah, but I have heard about you,” she said in his own language, with only the slightest hint of an accent, and Raphael breathed a little more easily. “The little duke from Tethyr. Don’t you have the most lovely set of horns,” she added, causing Raphael to blink. His horns were not something anybody had ever thought to compliment before; in the Material plane, the fewer people saw them, the better. He was again very, very glad his skin could not visibly flush.

“Thank you,” was all he could muster, feeling rather stupid. Someday not too far in the future he’d be able to let words slide off his tongue like silk on skin, no matter in what language, and the right words at that - but not just yet. Still, he had enough presence of mind to remember he should bow his head and introduce himself. “My name is Isr-- Raphael,” he said, bowing his head. If she noticed the slip, she said nothing of it. “Very much at your service.”

Another chuckle, oddly musical itself, and she turned fully on the seat, hands folded on her lap. She had long, elegant fingers. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Raphael. I am Lady Antilia, High Cantor of Mephistar. Although,” she added with a sigh, turning to glance at the instrument she’d been coaxing notes from. “I may not hold the position for long, if inspiration keeps escaping me.”

“I-- heard the music. I think it was beautiful.”

“Thank you, little duke.” For the first time, the moniker was not spoken like a mockery. “But I fear it is not quite enough. Writing hymns falls to me, and your lord father is a difficult master to please. You certainly have gathered that by now.”

I might have if he bothered to see me, Raphael thought, but he knew better than to voice his thoughts. Instead, he turned his attention to the instrument she had been playing when he let himself in. “What kind of instrument is this?”

“It is an organ. Are you not familiar with it?”

“I have never seen one. I can play the lyre and the lute - the harpsichord, too,” he added. He’d started to get a hang of the violin as well, but he had yet to learn how to get a decent sound out of it, so he didn’t mention that.

Lady Antilia chuckled. “Ah, another musician at long last. Well then, come sit with me,” she said, moving to the side and patting the seat. “May as well learn how to play another instrument, no? If you know how to play the harpsichord, then you’ll be able to play the organ as well in no time.”

He wasn’t supposed to accept: he wasn’t supposed to have left his rooms without finishing the day’s lesson, he knew. Still, he didn’t so much look back at the door: he nodded, thanked Lady Antilia profusely, and went to sit by her. For several hours he listened, mesmerized, as she coaxed music out of the instrument that seemed to fill the room, reverberating in his chest, the high notes and the daker, lower ones. He watched too, the movement of feet on pedals, and fingers running across the keys so effortlessly. Such a delicate touch, and such powerful music. 

He did not learn anymore Infernal that day, but he did learn to play the organ.

***

The irony of the two of them sharing a tent - the devil who used to be a man, and the man who once was a devil - was not at all lost on Wyll. 

It was a little crowded, although probably not as crowded as the other tent they had left, where he suspected Astarion may have ditched the bedroll entirely to lay down on Durge and Halsin. Still, it wasn’t too bad. Raphael was determined to ignore him - seeing his horns seemed to particularly displease him - and that was fine by Wyll, who was happy to settle on his side of the tent and ignore him right back.

Until the devil who was no longer a devil began tossing and turning and muttering in his sleep, of course. Most of the words he uttered were grating noises that he recognized as Infernal, even if he could not catch the words, much less their meaning. It was when the mumbling turned to a low, keening noise that Wyll entirely gave up on the idea of catching some sleep and sat up. 

“Raphael?”

No response, only a choking noise. Wyll frowned and reached over to grip his shoulder and shake him awake. He’d barely touched him when he muttered the first, clear sentence since whatever dream he was trapped in had begun. Or at least as clear as a sentence can be when choked in one’s sleep into the pillow.

“I want to go home.”

Wyll knew that giving him the House of Hope back was entirely out of the question; Karlach was going to have enough issues with their unexpected new companion without adding in the mere idea of putting Hope back in his grasp, which none of them was going to allow in the first place. And he certainly could not understand how anyone could miss the Hells - any layer of the Hells. But desperately wanting to go home… well, that was something he knew more about than he’d have liked.

And he’d dreamed of home too, of course, especially during that first year on his own. He’d missed the familiar sights, his friends, the father who’d so loved him and yet had turned away when he’d seen the mark of the Hells on him. In his dreams he could speak the truth of what happened, he could explain. In his dreams, Ulder Ravengard embraced him, thanked him for saving the city, and welcomed him back as his son. 

But then the dream always, always changed. The smell of sulfur replaced the familiar scents of the city, his father’s embrace turned into an unyielding grip, and Mizora laughed against his ear. Leathery wings enveloped him, blotting out all light, and he’d wake up with a scream in his chest and a lump in his throat. And sometimes, depending on how far he’d allowed himself to sink into the illusion that all was well again, with tears on his face.

Another muffled noise from the man who was a devil no longer snapped Wyll from his recollections. He sighed, waved goodbye to any chance to go back to sleep, and grasped Raphael’s shoulder.

“All right, you had enough sleep. Wake up.”

“Wha--?”

It took Raphael a few moments to regain the bearings of his surroundings. Wyll sat back and waited as he did, pretending not to notice the quick gesture with which he wiped his face on a sleeve, and grinned as soon as he turned to scowl at him. 

“What, pray tell, was that supposed to be about?” Raphael snapped, only to blink when Wyll held out a rapier for him to take. He raised an eyebrow. “If this is an invitation to skewer you with it, I shall be happy to oblige after you have held your half of the bargain and--”

“Get up. We’re having a sparring match.”

“... Surely you jest.”

“It always takes my mind off things.”

“I am beginning to question whether you have a mind to take off anything.”

“We’ll be heading into the city come morning, and then it’s straight to Avernus,” Wyll reminded him. They had arrived in Rivington in the middle of the night, and had agreed to get a few hours’ rest before heading to Devil’s Fee as soon as the sun rose and the shop opened; Astarion would wear a cape and hood for the remainder of the way, and they’d keep to the shade for good measure.

Wyll wished he could spare the time to visit his father, or see for himself how the rebuilding was going, but it would have to wait. Now the thing he was most eager to do was get back to the House of Hope and see Karlach again; he only hoped she hadn’t keeled over and died of sheer boredom in the time it had taken him to gather their available allies and come back.

Unaware of his thoughts, Raphael scoffed. “All the more reason to let me rest,” he bit, as though he was having any good rest at all. Wyll shrugged. 

“Surely, you want to be ready to fight your way through it with us, no? One more chance to practice is not something you should let pass by. Go on, take the rapier.”

“I can fight well enough without the aid of toothpicks . I’m a spellcaster. I have no need--”

“Well, this kind of toothpick is always useful. Even when you’ve run out of energy for spells, it still works to skewer the opponent. You should take at least a dagger. Even Durge carries a shortsword, and they’re the finest sorcerer I’ve ever met.”

“You haven’t met many sorcerers, I see.”

Wyll raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that downplaying the power of the one who bested you reflects well on you?”

“They hardly bested me alone,” Raphael snapped, but he did snatch the rapier and got out of the tent with a huff. “... Very well. If you insist on sparring, we shall.”

Wyll sighed, and followed him outside. There was probably little more than an hour left until dawn, so at least he got some rest. He could tell from Raphael’s grip on the rapier alone that the sparring would do little to help him fight - he was really much better off relying on spells - but it was a way to pass the time, he supposed. 

Plus, watching him fumble with a rapier while trying to look like he knew what he was doing was a lot more entertaining than listening to him crying out in his sleep.

***

Dalah knew that the-- thing was there before she even turned from the already perfectly clean artifact she was dusting. There was the noise of course, the crackling of flames and scraping of claws on ice, the oddly mechanical clicking and chirring noises it made as it stalked the hallways of Mephistopheles’ vault. 

Except that now it-- he was not not stalking the vault’s rooms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him standing by the doorway, staring at her with entirely too many eyes set deeply in the fused misshapen skulls. He followed no one in particular, as far as she could tell - he was there to guard, and guard he did - but whenever he came across her, he did come to a stop. Even if she hadn’t called that name again-- Israfel -- he still paused to look at her, as he was doing now.

He made no noise other than the fierce crackling of the flames that shrouded him, the occasional clicking and skittering of claws on the ice floor as he shifted, as though craning his neck to see what she was going - cleaning, what else? - without getting too close.

Dalah paused for a moment, looked around to make sure they were alone, and turned slowly. He was still a vision of horror, but knowing she could stop him by just speaking his name had made the terror fade. “You can’t talk at all, can you?”

The creature looked back, with those fixed and thoughtless eyes, and-- wait. Was it her, or - had that been a shake of its heads? Dalah stilled, staring, before she wet her lips with a nervous tongue and tried to address him again. “Can you understand me at all? Can you… do something, if you understand?”

A long pause, long enough to make her feel foolish, then the creature seemed to nod, chittering and clicking without so much moving his gaping maws. He crouched and a flaming, clawed hand raked across ice, leaving deep marks on the icy floor; the ice magically began to freeze again within moments, erasing them, but the message was clear. It was too slow a gesture, too deliberate, to be an accident. Do something, and he did. 

He understood. How much he understood was debatable - it may be very little - but despite Barbas’ boasts of having turned the devilish half of Raphael’s soul into a mindless, perfect machine made to think of nothing but maiming trespassers and thieves, it was obvious that something else was still there. Something intelligent. Something that could respond . 

Her work entirely forgotten, Dalah dared step closer. “... I’m sorry if hearing that name hurt,” she heard herself saying. “Was it… did Rahirek call you that? Did he keep you?”

A chirring noise, and the creature seemed to nod before he lowered a claw to the icy floor once again. This time, he used only one claw to crudely carve something in it. A line, then more intersecting lines at the very top, like… like…

The spire. The star. Her husband’s family crest - she had almost forgotten what she looked like, after so many centuries. But she recalled it now, on his armor the day he’d left and on the brooch he’d gifted her on their wedding day, when they were but two strangers thrown together by his widowhood and her father’s political calculations. Starspire, after the mountains that towered above Rahirek’s ancestral home.

She had loved those mountains since the moment she’d laid her eyes on them: they reminded her of the Storm Horn Mountains back home, in the land that would one day become Cormyr. As soon as she’d arrived, before she’d learned to love her new husband in that quiet, desperate way that would be her undoing, they had made her feel at home again.

“We always pretended they’re named after our family, but it’s the other way around,” he told her with a chuckle on their wedding night. He did not touch her, then. He never would touch her, not that way, until months later when she reached out for him first, and found him willing.

Dalah’s eyes burned, and she wiped them quickly as the drawing faded. “... I should have known he would. He was a good man,” she murmured, and looked up again. The creature-- Israfel -- kept staring at her, heads tilted. She drew in a shaky breath. “... Do you know who I am?”

A chittering sound, and a shake of those heads, flames dancing as it moved.

She managed a weak smile. “No, you wouldn’t. We only met once, so to speak. But you were tiny, then. I saw you from afar when they took you here, though, a few times. You were taller than me already, I think. I am not sure, I didn’t want to look at you. We never--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Dalah recoiled and stepped back to see a devil - one of the cambions who kept an eye on the debtors cleaning the vault, as if any of them would dare steal, as if an ascended fiend wasn’t enough of an incentive to do their work quietly and quickly - stepping closer, a scowl on his face. He paid no mind to Israfel, and why would he? Barbas had been clear, he had been conditioned to obey the guards. He would not intervene if not by his order. “I was just--” 

The guard scoffed, walking up to her, and raised a flail as if to strike her. “You’ll go back to work now, if you know what’s--”

He never got to finish the sentence. A shrieking mountain of fire, claws and sharp thorns of black bone was on him the next moment; the devil had no time to force out a scream, or even to fully turn. There was no fight, and all was over the second it began, flesh torn apart by claws, throat ripped out by tusks. Steaming dead flesh and guts littered the ground, all that remained of a devil, but that was not there for long either. Fiends had no need to eat, but they had appetites all the same - and this one was no exception. 

Within what felt like less than a minute, nothing remained of the guard but a pool of blood watered down by melted ice, and flail burnt to a crisp. Only then did Israfel turn to look at her, bloody jaws clacking and wings fluttering a moment, hesitating as his flames dulled. 

She could see why: he’d broken protocol and there would be punishment, surely, when they found out what he had done. 

If they find out. 

“... Get that blood off your face-- faces. I’ll hide this,” Dalah heard herself saying, walking up to the bloody pool and causing Israfel to step back, claws clicking on the ice. Mopping up the bloody water was painfully cold on her hands, but once that was done and the ice reformed, no trace of blood remained. The flail broke apart into ash the moment it was touched, and once she scooped that up… well, no one could tell anything had happened there.

Low level guards did defect, sometimes. Not unheard of. As long as nothing was missing in the vault, they would look for him outside Mephistar, and not too hard. Dalah breathed out, and turned. Israfel was still staring at her, head tilted as though waiting for something. When she met his eyes, he made more clacking, echoing sounds.

“Won’t tell if you don’t,” Dalah said, and found herself smiling faintly as she looked down at the pulverized remains of the guard had lifted against her. She had spent a long time knowing she ought to fear every devil, no matter how low-ranking, for any of them could end her on a whim. One powerful enough strike and what remained of her would be lost, bursting into blood and guts to let out some sort of hellish creature. 

To see one who’d so much threatened to harm her annihilated in instants had felt… good. Even if somewhere, in the back of her mind, she wondered whose son that cambion had been, what mortal had died to give him life. Some, she knew, did so willingly. 

“... Thank you. Now go, before someone notices you’re no longer patrolling.”

Israfel hesitated, but there were steps and he did not wait to see if it was another guard or a debtor. One last look and it left the room, through icy corridors, ever patrolling - his presence alone enough to strike terror into every soul bound to endlessly cleaning the vault and its contents.

Almost every soul.

Only later would Dalah pause and realize that, when he turned to her with his victim’s blood still dropping from his jaws, she had not for a single instant felt fear.

***

“Give me a good reason why I should open any portal for you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Astarion’s voice was full of indignation. “We’re going to pay you, is that not reason enough?”

Standing behind the counter, Helsik scoffed. “You were also supposed to pay me last time, if you recall, with the Gauntlets of Hill Giant Strength you took from the House of Hope.”

“Were they now?” Raphael asked, arms crossed. Of course, he didn’t look like himself now: revealing his continued survival to a warlock of Mammon liable to immediately relay the information to anyone who may care for the right amount of coin would be, to put it mildly, sheer idiocy. A simple disguise spell had turned him into an unremarkable enough half-elf, and thank the gods Helsik seemed none the wiser. “I may have heard of those gauntlets. Extremely rare indeed. And what, pray tell,” he added, shooting a pointed look in Durge’s general direction, “has happened to those?”

Fervently hoping Raphael would shut his damn mouth before he gave the rouse away, Durge shifted a little. To be entirely honest, keeping them had been Astarion’s idea, but… well, they hadn’t protested too much, either. “It’s, you see, we figured we may put them to good use, they fit Karlach really well--”

“So they broke our deal,” Helsik spoke, her own arms crossed, and looked back at Totally Not Raphael, who was still glaring at Durge. She seemed glad to have found someone who sounded as outraged as she did. “They went ‘I just killed a devil, do you really want to argue’ at me, and just kept the payment for my services. Can you believe it?”

“I can, actually. They rather make a habit of it, I see,” he replied, his voice flat in a way that clearly suggested he had carnage on his mind, and was really quite cross that he could not enact it. He seemed about to add something else, but Astarion suddenly threw his arm around his shoulders with a laugh, cutting him off. 

He also stomped on his foot, discreetly but hard, causing him to yelp. 

“Yes, yes, it was very naughty of us, and we’re sincerely sorry.”

Helsik narrowed her eyes. “Does that mean you’re giving me the gauntlets?”

“Oh dear, we’d love to! But, they’re currently with our friend in Avernus,” he added, gesturing rather meaningfully towards the floor. “See, if you open us a portal, we can retrieve them…”

“Try again.”

“Hey now--”

“It’s an upfront payment. Forty thousand.”

“FORTY--”

“Twenty thousand for the portal I opened last time, and twenty thousand for this one.”

“We need you to open two portals this ti--”

“That will be sixty thousand, then. Upfront.”

Astarion let out a noise of pure distress. “You can’t be serious!” he protested, only for Helsik to raise an eyebrow. 

“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” she asked. She did not, in fact, look like she was joking. 

Astarion scoffed, obviously scandalized at the notion the diabolist would demand upfront payment for her services to someone who scammed her once before, and turned to the others. Before he could voice what would probably be his suggestion - ‘let me drain her a bit and see if it mellows her’, Durge suspected - Raphael stepped forward. 

“I do understand why you’d mistrust these miscreants, as they already took advantage of your services without paying their due,” he said, gesturing towards them. “However, I hope you can extend me some grace, as I have done no such thing. I have a proposal.”

“I will hear you out, nothing more. And you are…?”

“Israfel will suffice. I’d rather not disclose my business in the Hells, as I’m sure you understand. It will not matter either way. Once I’m there, the two of us will never have laid eyes on each other, as you will have had no part in getting me there.”

Helsik nodded curtly, arms still crossed. “Good to see you know the rules,” she said, “but I have yet to hear your proposal.”

Raphael nodded. “Of course. The gold we have at our disposal to pay is, in total, thirty thousand gold. It is enough to cover the debt for the services you provided last time but, I understand, not enough to open a second portal now. Let alone a third.”

“Sound math. Still waiting for the proposal.”

Clearly disappointed by the refusal to play along, Raphel sighed. “As direct as your patron, I see. Very well. While these-- people owe you a great deal for your services, I believe you’re overlooking something that comes quite close to canceling out that debt.”

Helsik’s eyebrows went up almost to her hairline. “Oh,” she droned. “Am I now?”

“Indeed. You did not ask to be indebted, yet indebted your are.”

A scoff. “And what, exactly, do I owe them?”

A smile, and Raphael leaned against the counter, turning to gesture at the collection of artifacts all around them. “Why, isn’t that obvious? The continued existence of this fine establishment of yours, of course. The reason for their previous visit to Avernus was the retrieval of an artifact which, as it happens, was vital to their goal of taking down the Netherbrain. Had they not succeeded in the endeavor-- well. Baldur’s Gate would be no more, along with much of the Sword Coast, and your establishment with it. Of course, you could have set up shop someplace else if you managed to escape - but how many of these treasures around us would have been lost? I am certain you have a very good idea of what the answer would be. The answer, and the cost.”

For a few moments, Helsik said nothing. She ran her gaze across the shop, obviously running the numbers in her mind, then turned that gaze on Durge. A frown, but not quite the glare they had given them before. In the end, slowly, she nodded and turned back to Raphael. 

“... Very well. Duly noted. Your proposal?”

Raphael smiled. “My proposal is, we hand over all of the thirty thousand gold in our possession for you to open a portal to Avernus, and as payment for services rendered previously,” he said. “I do understand this means a significant discount on your usual rates, but it would be thirty thousand gold more than you’d get otherwise. And, I believe, it does account for the role they unwittingly played in keeping the Devil’s Fee in business.”

“Hmm.” Helsik seemed to think it over, and glanced past Raphael. Astarion smiled, and held up two bulging sacks of gold; she stared at them a few moments before nodding and turning back to Raphael. “You said you need two portals opened. I will not do it for thirty thousand gold.”

“But, for thirty thousand gold and the gauntlets you’re owed?” Raphael countered, smiling. “If we don’t survive our little vacation in the First, you’ll be thirty thousand gold richer. If we do survive, we will come back and hand you over the Gauntlets of Hill Giant Strength currently in the possession of our dear friend trapped in Avernus.”

There was a sound much like a barely restrained laugh from Wyll, and Durge almost chuckled himself. Karlach would not be pleased to hear Raphael, of all beings, had referred to her as a ‘dear friend’. She wouldn’t be happy to see him at all, most likely, and much less to learn she’d have to bear his presence until they either died or completed their mission. She’d have many good reasons to be displeased, of course… but needs must when the devil drives. 

Quite literally, in that instance.

Unaware of their thoughts, Helsik was nodding. “I see. If you come back, and hand me the gauntlets you promised, only then will I open the second portal for you. It makes sense.”

Raphael’s borrowed face opened in a smile. “I knew you’d see reason.”

“And where would this second portal need to lead?”

“Cania. Mephistar, to be precise.”

���Ugh, again?” A sigh, a shake of the head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Since the gentleman over there and the late Lord Gortash raided the vault, Lord Mephistopheles has upped the magical defenses. I have been trying to find a way around them for months, but so far I’ve had no success. I cannot open a portal anywhere in Cania as of now.”

For a moment, the features of Raphael’s borrowed face twisted in aggravation; it was almost funny, really, how even in this disguise he scrunched up his nose. Then, as quickly as anger had come, it faded. “... Well then, we shall content ourselves with the closest you can get us to it. The second portal will be to Maladomini.”

Helsik raised an eyebrow. Hard to tell whether she was impressed by the boldness, or unimpressed by the madness on display. “Lord Mephistopheles and Lord Baalzebul are hardly allies. You really think you can sneak from the Seventh to the Eight and keep your life?”

“My friend,” Raphael said, smiling, “I cannot possibly overstate how little I have left to lose.”

Another pause and, finally, a shrug. “Hmm. None of it is my business as long as I’m getting paid, so-- very well. Avernus first and, if you live and give me the gauntlets, Maladomini it is. I’ll go fetch the necessary items. You wait here - but first, the gold.”

“Half the gold now,” Raphael countered. “And half once you hand over the items we need.”

“Distrustful, aren’t you?”

“You shan’t take it personally, I hope. You may consider it practice for the Hells.”

“With the company you keep, you have reason to be distrustful in any plane.”

“I am well aware, believe me.”

The first half of her payment taken, Helsik disappeared in the basement. As soon as she was gone, Wyll let out a low whistle. “All right,” he conceded, “that was really good.”

Raphael scoffed, walking away from the counter and right past him. “It was a child’s play. But I had no doubt it would impress you.”

“... Still mad because I knocked the rapier from your hand thrice this morning, huh?”

“Don’t be absurd. As I believe I made plain, I don’t need to carry a toothpick in bat--” Raphael began, only to trail off suddenly, freezing mid-step. He was staring at something on a table, and it took Durge only a moment to see exactly what it was.

The Orb of Infernal Envisioning. Last they had gazed into it, Durge had seen Raphael himself, covered in blood, dangling above Mephistopheles’ maw. Now, however, they saw something else. It was still Raphael in the Orb, or at least his ascended form, wreathed in flames, standing amidst walls of ice. It towered above a human woman who stared up at it, making no move to run. On the contrary, she was reaching up, as though to touch the creature.

“What is it?” Astarion spoke up somewhere on their left. “I can’t see anything in it. Halsin?”

“Not a thing.”

“I see Mizora,” Wyll said, stepping closer. “She’s holding some kind of contract, and… bowing? There is someone else there, but it’s just a shadow. I can’t see their face… are you seeing this too?” he asked, only for Raphael to ignore him and Durge to shake their head.

The Orb shows you what is fitting for you to see, Helsik had said once. It seemed they were not all seeing the same thing, after all - even those among them who could see something in it. Durge frowned, and looked back at Raphael. “... I see your Ascended form, and a woman. Inside Mephistar’s vault, I believe. A debtor, perhaps. Is that what you see?”

Wordless for once, eyes fixed on the orb, Raphael nodded. The two of them, it seemed, were indeed seeing the same thing. “I… have seen that mortal before. It’s the debtor who helped me escape,” he murmured. Slowly, he lifted a hand towards the orb, as if to touch it… and then there was the sound of a trapdoor to the basement being pushed open. Raphael pulled his hand back as though burned, and they all turned to see Helsik was back, a bag in hand. 

“Here’s all that is needed, and you know your way upstairs. Remember, you have never been here. Now hand over the rest of the gold, and scram.”

Gold changed hands, despite Astarion’s slightly pained expression, and Durge took the bag. “Before we go, we could use some supplies,” they said, and held up their bag of holding. Collecting just about anything they came across in their travels did pay off; by the time they were done trading, they were… reasonably well-equipped to survive Avernus. Hopefully. They closed the bag, and nodded towards the stairs. “All right,” they said. “Time to go to Hell.”

“Not a moment too soon,” Raphael muttered, and headed upstairs first without another word, a stiffness in his back that wasn’t there before.

*** If you're wondering who Antilia is:

*** [Back to Chapter 8]

[Back to Start]

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #raphael bg3 #astarion ancunin #halsin bg3 #wyll ravengard #haarlep bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 astarion #antilia dnd #mephistopheles dnd #raphael the cambion #baalphegor dnd #hell to pay

[wandersoul8]

Eyyyyyy it’s finally time to share DM-664’s new reference sheet alongside her backstory (I finally got the confidence to share itt!) hope you like it and I hope you like my beloved Kaled-Dalek Hybrid OC 💙✨⚡️

———————————————

Name: DM-664

Nicknames/Aliases: 664, Hybrid, Creature, Failed Experiment, Lightning Rod, Muto, Dalek Mutant 664, Death Merchant 664

Species: Kaled-Dalek Hybrid

Home Planet: Skaro

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Them

Height: 6’5

Sexuality: AroAce

Neurodiversity: On the Autism Spectrum

Personality traits

When interacting with 664, It really depends on who you are most of the time. Though geelllbut some 664’s traits that she tends to show the most are her aggressive, loyal, blunt, violent, and is more reserved. She will occasionally be sarcastic if she feels the need to.

She has a lot of sadness and insecurities within herself which she tries to supress whenever around others and let it out when alone and can’t be seen or heard. though she’ll occasionally let it slip.

As well as that she often tries to hide her fear when encountering people like The Doctor and honestly Davros as well when she eventually encounters him again.

Some of her lesser known traits and traits she’ll grow to have) are currently

Empathy towards others, she’s slowly been developing this since Earth and when she crossed paths with the Doctor.

Only people who manage to get to know her properly will find out that 664 is actually quite respectful to those she likes or she seems as “superior”

Strengths

- Loyal to those she supports, will go to most lengths including putting herself at risk in order to protect those she is loyal to

- Physically strong & great at combat

- Very knowledgeable and smart when it comes to her interests (Creating and using weaponry (specifically long range, bombs, and electrical weapons) Dalek Kaled History, Flora and Fauna of Skaro and select other planets)

- High endurance levels to physical pain, especially high voltage electric attacks/shocks thanks yo the experiments she was put through.

- She also has a natural tolerance to some radiation

- Self Aware of her actions & has her own moral compass

Weaknesses

- Suffering from Long Term Mental Illnesses being Deppression & PTSD

- Forced emotion suppression that can lead to extreme anger outbursts and mental breakdowns

- 664 can be incredible destructive both to herself and to others and at times is often merciless

- can *rarely* handle and process compliments from anyone, especially her superiors (or those she sees as above her)

- Struggles trusting others as she is well aware that most either try to use her for something or backstab her. It takes a while for her to trust a new ally/friend fully because of that

- Despite having skills in the weaponry field, she isn’t very good at using heavy weapons while in battle as they are “too slow” for her to use

- 664 while holding respect for Davros and other Daleks, she does genuinely fear them from time to time

Goals/Wants/Needs:

- To die in a way that she seems “honourable”

- Somewhere to belong & feel welcome

- To be seen by those who know of her as more then just a failed experiment (wants to be seen as powerful & reliable)

- Getting some form of vengeance on those that have betrayed her

- For Davros to recognise her notable achievements & for him to see her as one of his own

(Keep In mind that while Davros has grown fond of 664 over time due to her ability to survive, her loyalty, and skills in weaponry & combat. Even though they haven’t interacted in a long time- when they do eventually cross paths, He’ll rarely show it as it would be considered “weak”)

Backstory:

DM-664 is a genetic experiment created by Davros on Skaro a few years before the Time War broke out. The Hybrid was supposed to appear more Dalek then Kaled.

Due to unknown circumstances she ended up resembling more like her a Kaled Ancestors.

Despite her mindset and speech was more like that of a loyal Dalek.

Following the first days of her existence, DM-664 was experimented on daily by Scientific Daleks as well as Davros and endured many kinds of experiments such as bone removal, replacement and implantation (including one that prevented 664 from screaming even though she always stayed silent), fusing Dalekanium into her bloodstream, and was even used as a live subject for some weapon testing.

664 though, was able to somehow endure it all.

664 was also used as a scapegoat for Davros, and often would get struck on the back from afar by his electrical manipulation which is where she got the lightning flower burns on her back from.

She was also put into areas with other Dalek experiments that would always try and kill her and each other.

After a few more years The Dalek Empire at the time had no more use for her & exiled her into the radioactive wilderness of Skaro which actually turned out to be much better for her in some ways.

During the time she was there she taught herself how to scavenge for small insects & create primitive weapons such as spears & daggers to hunt out of bone that would be used for hunting.

It didn’t all go well though as she did get sick when she had to drink the poisoned water.

the adapt in the different biomes as well as functioning on limited resources.

She traveled a lot in the span of 2 years, even coming across ancient wreckage from the 1000 year war, especially weapons, which sparked her interest in both Skaro's history and weaponry.

664 continued her journey along Skaro and eventually came across a small Thal colony camp (6-10 Thals) that was secretly trying to monitor what was going on in the Dalek city from a distance.

664, despite everything she had been put through was still extremely loyal to the Daleks, devised a plan and eventually took them out mercilessly one by one using the weapons she had created from the bones of animals she had previously hunted. She then raided the camp for what she needed and left.

Eventually the rotting bodies and raided camp from the small Thal colonies got found by a few Daleks while on patrol in the wilderness. A few days after the discovery they were able to trace the cause of the Thal’s deaths back to DM-664.

The higher ups decided that 664 could prove some use to The Daleks.

She was eventually located & was found mildly injured with a broken leg not far from a cliff face.

She was taken back to the city, healed , questioned, cleaned & after 2 weeks of having some of her more “feral” like behaviour being “corrected”.

DM-664 was questioned again & then given a small cell to live in within Davros' lab as well as getting her own custom Dalek like amour and a custom modified gunstick as her new weapon.

From there, she didn't do too many notable things aside from getting frequently used as a test subject and would occasionally be allowed to help Davros out.

She also got proper training on how to use her gun properly and other forms of Dalek weaponry.

At the time, the Daleks didn't have too much of a use for DM-664 just yet.

So they decided to cryogenically freeze her and store her on one of their more secure ships until she had some form is use.

Davros, at this time has actually began to slowly grow fond of 664 due to her interest in weaponry and her survival abilities, though it was never shown.

He ends up giving 664 his sonic screwdriver by slipping into the chamber 664 was stored in while she was unconscious, as he believes that she may get more use out of it.

About 1000 or so years, right at the very end of the Time War. DM-664 is unfrozen & re-awoken.

While she was little confused about the sudden appearance of the sonic screwdriver, she kept it close to her.

She then gets briefed about the current situation and then is put straight onto the frontlines in Arcadia.

Her purpose there was to back up Dalek squadrons and to take out powerful gun towers used by the Time Lords.

Towards the final days of the war, while patrolling with 3 Daleks. They cross paths with the War Doctor who kills all 3 Daleks instantly, leaving 664 the only one standing.

Confused the two stare at each other waiting for one to attack the other for a minute before 664 silently retreats in the other direction confused as to why he spared her life.

On the last very last day of the Time War. 664 having an instinct that things will get much worse from here decides to check out and see what sort of technology from some of the fallen.

She scavenges a small emergency temporal shift device from a casing of a dead Dalek and while toying around with it, accidentally activates it, sending her to Earth in the 2010's.

Unknowingly to 664, the temporal shift device she activated was slightly damaged was able to sub-consciously open her mind slightly to new, “impure” emotions.

DM-664 ends up detained, gun confiscated, & stranded inside an Extra-Terrestrial Detention Centre run by UNIT’s Australian Branch in Melbourne. Thankfully due to 664 looking more like her Kaled Ancestors, she was able to deceive her captors into believing she was something else more humanoid.

Over the span of 8 years, she and many other detained aliens that were considered “low risk” by UNIT were put on a study/re-educational like program where they were made to learn about Human societies & history & other misc skills.

One day, The Doctor eventually gets word about this UNIT run detention centre in Australia and decides to show up to try and put a stop to the operations of the centre, unexpectedly crossing paths with DM-664.

The Doctor confronts and exposes 664’s Skarosian origins in front of UNIT & the other captive aliens.

This news caused mass panic from the UNIT soldiers & a riot from the captive aliens.

While the masses were distracted, 664 and a couple of other aliens slip out of the crowds and head towards the highly secured room where their confiscated alien technology is stored, attacking anyone that tried to stop them.

664 was able to break into the room & retrieve her gun while the other aliens with her armed themselves too and they continued with their escape attempt. Unfortunately the escape attempt was foiled as the Doctor was able to calm both UNIT and the rioting aliens down.

664 and the few aliens with her were located and reluctantly surrendered.

The UNIT centre admins after all of the chaos decides that 664 was “too dangerous” to be held in the centre and they forced the Doctor to take 664 with him in the TARDIS.

The Doctor was open to the idea, though 664 reluctantly agreed and left with what little belongings she had.

She ended up traveling with the Doctor & his small group of companions for a number of years. Seeing new worlds, crossing paths with new enemies,as well as gaining some allies/friendships.

Eventually 664’s time in the TARDIS ended after an unexpected encounter with multiple incarnations of the Doctor and some Daleks shook this current TARDIS team & left DM-664 more traumatised after it had finished.

The Doctor ended deciding that it would be best to say goodbye to 664 for now.

He ended up leaving 664 on a quiet habitable alien forest like planet known as Icarro that was uninhabited by any alien civilisations, only a few species of animals.

DM-664 while still mentally recovering from everything that has happened before, began to take on this new stage of her life & see where it would take her.

#dm-664 #doctor who oc #doctorwhooc #kaled dalek hybrid #kaled #dalek hybrid #dalek hybrid oc #doctorwho #Dalek #Davros #Daleks #Skaro #Dalek oc #doctor who original character #doctor who #doctor who kaled oc #Doctor who hybrid oc #I worked so hard on thissss #wandersoul8 #wanders art

[deafmangoes]

An Album of Christmas Carols - 4

This time I'm going to cover the, I assume, lesser-known musical adaptation of the classic story, the 2004 A Christmas Carol based on the 1994 stage musical by Alan Menken.

"A Christmas Carol" (2004, Kelsey Grammer)

To be honest, the whole vibe of the film really betrays that it began as a stage show - sometimes it's endearing but in other places the stage directions don't translate to the film format that well.

We open not in Scrooge's counting house but the Royal Exchange, where a conspicuously underdressed Cratchit (feat. influenza) runs around after his employer and a definitely-not-Cratchit expy asks for a loan extension for himself and Tiny Tina.

I mean look at her. Girl has a withering scowl that could peel paint. She is apparently "Grace Smythe" in the credits but the only time she's named is kinda muffled by the singing.

In this opening monument to raw, Victorian capitalism, I admit I do enjoy the lines:

"Thank the Lord our profits have been huge / Thank the Lord we're not in debt to Scrooge".

Anyway! On to the...

Ghosts? Ghosts!

In an unusual twist we're introduced to the Ghosts before Marley - Past is a lamplighter, Present is a ticket hawker for a charity pageant, and Yet to Come is a blind beggar woman (Incidentally portrayed here by Charlie Chaplin's daughter, Geraldine!).

Marley himself appears in theatrical manner not through the door but popping out of the wall. This Marley has a jovial tone, genuinely happy to see Scrooge, and seems more resigned to his fate than lamenting it. He (and some of his and Scrooge's former business partners) perform "Link by Link" with a mix of moral haunting and... just being very extra.

Christmas Past... awkwardly appears as an attractive younger woman poledsncing on the end of Scrooge's bed. I suspect in the original stage show they had a professional dancer for this and the actress tries but doesn't quite nail the graceful movements. Rather than whisk Scrooge from his bed, she shoves his astral projection into a photo album.

This version gives us the "Scrooge's dad went to debtor prison" excuse, which I'm neutral about. Comes up in a few adaptations, and it works but I'm just not fond of Freudian excuses.

The Fezziwigs (here a banking firm) dance, romance occurs, blossoms, we see Scrooge and Marley set up their business and become increasingly more ruthless.

Now I just want to comment on one specific bit that really falls flat, in my opinion. Fezziwig comes to the pair for a loan to save his failing business. Scrooge refuses on the basis that it won't prevent the bankruptcy, merely postpone it.

Then both Fezziwigs turn on the emotional manipulation - "I helped you both get started", "he treated you like a son", etc. I hate this. It cheapens both Fezziwigs as characters and actually Scrooge is right to refuse the loan. But we're meant to see this as him becoming hard and uncaring. Ruins a core moment of character development.

Anyway - engagement breaks off, Marley dies of a heart attack, yadda yadda, Past leaves in a puff of smoke.

Christmas Present puts on an agonisingly long stage show and... comes off a bit like a pimp, with the staging and the chorus girls. And the cane. And the fur-lined robe. It's not great. We see more of Tiny Tina because Tiny Tim had supernatural scheduling conflicts or something.

The Cratchits have their deep emotional song about shoes and counting your blessings. I'm normally not a fan of these bits but... Actually I'm okay with this one. There's a big medley of people celebrating across London, and I think it does a way better job than "Abundance and Charity". Nephew Fred's party segues in at the pre-finale lull - and incidentally this is the only version I know of where Fred has a kid. He gets one line, in which he's a snotty-nosed brat. We return to the Cratchits, then close out on a brief Ignorance and Want looking... I'm not gonna lie, they look like they're completely out of it.

It's time for some real trippy haunting.

Christmas Yet To Come transforms from the blind beggar woman into a white/grey banshee figure who takes Scrooge into another musical number a confused amalgam of visions. I really like this! I know it's being done for practicality, but it helps get across this idea of the future as being shadows, shifting and changing, still malleable.

Also the song's a bop.

Another small detail I like is the undertakers attacking and robbing Mrs Dilber Mrs Mops for pennies after they've hawked Scrooge's belongings to Old Joe. It's quite visceral in the middle of the song, and each time I see it, it reminds me how women like Mrs Dilber may be easy to judge, but in Victorian society they really had a very fragile existence. Nobody cared for the widows and elderly. After all, are there no prisons? No workhouses?

Scrooge's redemption is indicated by a much softer and happier round-up song in which he sees a vision of his departed mother and sister. Aww.

We close out on Scrooge temporarily kidnapping a child, finally making Tiny Tina crack a smile, passing the three ghosts in Incognito Mode, trolling Bob and going to Fred's for dinner. Then it snows on cue.

Highlights & Humbugs

The film's not one of my top favourites but it's still in my rewatch cycle. The songs are catchy, as you'd expect from Disney veteran Menken, with some clever reprises. Marley's "Link by Link" is good fun, but the Ghost of Christmas Present's "Abundance and Charity" really overstays its welcome, especially since the song immediately after it does a better job at getting the point across.

I think I've already commented on what I think works and doesn't work in this version, but I have yet to mention the most haunting image of all.

Kelsey Grammer's hairy chest. Be glad I couldn't find a higher quality snap.

Overall, a jolly musical with some flat notes, but a pretty good jab at the story. 6 out of 10 Humbugs.

#deafmangoes #a christmas carol (2004) #a christmas carol #scrooge #ebenezer scrooge #dickens december #kelsey grammer #jacob marley

[danmeitickles]

Tickletober 2022: Ticklish Kiss

Am I using the tickletober event to write some self indulgent fanfics? Why yes, yes I am. There’s not enough danmei tickle fanfics, there’s definitely some good ones out there, but not enough for the lesser known. Anyway hope you all enjoy some tickle fun with yanshen! Edit: just realized an entire paragraph was missing at the beginning so I just updated that part, oopsy.

Tickletober prompt 10: Ticklish kiss

Pairing: yanshen

lee!shenqiao, ler!yanwushi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ticklish kiss

It was early morning when brownish-red eyes woke as he usually did before his beloved. His favorite morning pastime is watching the precious man in his arms sleep so peacefully, proof that he felt safe in his embrace. Yan Wushi hasn’t always been a sentimental person, it was only because of Shen Qiao, he started to discover new things he always thought to be pointless. But now as he rests his gaze upon the resting beauty, his beloved, he allows himself to cherish every moment he shares with his precious A-Qiao.

He couldn’t help it, most times he lets his husband sleep, knowing that with him is the only sleep the daoist gets. When the two are apart the daoist meditates instead of sleeping. However, this very morning he wanted to touch him, he began tracing fingertips along his face, gently caressing the jade-like skin as if it would tear. The sect leader is wearing a tender smile, rarely without any mischief, an expression reserved for Shen Qiao only, he presses the first kiss on his forehead, then his eyelids, nose and finally a chaste kiss on the lips.

Normally, Shen Qiao would stir with the ongoing affection. However, after last night’s activities he was reduced to a heavy sleep. “A-Qiao A-Qiao, you don’t plan to sleep all day do you?” He teased while trying to coax his lover awake. “This venerable one is only here for another day, why sleep when we can go play?” Nothing seemed to be working. Yan Wushi sighed, but he’s not one to back down from a challenge. He continues to place kisses around the daoist’s face and venturing down to his neck.

When he reaches the nape of his neck he kisses every place he can reach without any motive other than to wake the other up, however something happened when he placed a few just a little too light around a sensitive spot. Shen Qiao, still in sleep, instinctively scrunched up his shoulder and let out the tiniest of a chuckle, so faint that if Yan Wushi wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have heard it. Yan Wushi’s mouth curves into the most mischievous grin, knowing exactly what caused such a reaction and now he has the perfect plan to wake the sleeping beauty.

Focusing on the spot that caused the reaction before, Yan Wushi buries his face into that beautiful neck and places teasing kisses, with the precise pressure and lightness. He takes pride in knowing Shen Qiao’s body more than his own. Another scrunch of the shoulders, however blocked by the face currently placed there, and a precious giggle could be heard. Fueled by wanting to hear more he continued the ticklish kisses along the beautiful neck.

“Yahan Lahahng?” Shen Qiao sleepily giggled his beloved’s name and it made the heart of the demonic sovereign skip a beat, “stahahp ihihit tihickles” the daoist couldn’t stop the squeak that came out of him as his lover began nibbling against his sensitive skin. Shen Qiao tried to push his husband off or to roll away, but having just woken up, his strength hasn’t fully recovered. “Ahh, how can this venerable one stop when a-qiao is making such cute noises?” Now that his beloved was awake he held more firmly onto him so he wouldn’t escape and continued the onslaught of ticklish kisses and nibbles, going up to his ear even and nibbling a particular spot that had the daoist giggling like crazy.

If he couldn’t get away then he was at least covering his face and trying to stifle the noises coming out of his mouth but the gentle affection was too much as his ears and neck were just too ticklish for his own good! “Don’t hide from this venerable one or else I’ll have to make measures worse for you” Yan Wushi teased relentlessly as usual, and worse he indeed made it, when he brought his lips to the daoist’s neck once again and blew raspberries all over.

“NOHOhoho Yahahn Laahahng stahap stahahp” When a squeal broke through those pretty lips, Shen Qiao really wanted to get away before more embarrassing sounds were made, but his lover really has him trapped and forced to take the nonstop ticklish affection. Fortunately they have been married long enough for Shen Qiao to know how to play in his favor against the demonic sovereign. Anything to get the tickling to stop.

Yan Wushi was having the time of his life causing the most beautiful laughs and noises and reactions coming from his beloved. It was music to his ears and definitely worth waking up his lover for. He always enjoyed invoking any kind of reactions from his precious husband, whether it be him flustered, angry, pleasure, or laughter, he was not a sentimental man, but for Shen Qiao, he took every reaction and stored it away in his memories and cherished them.

He was so lost in thought and tickling his beloved that when his husband said he nearly didn’t catch it, however, what he said was intriguing enough to pull him out of his thoughts. Shen Qiao trying to curl away, and tears threatening to fall from the laughter, he cries out, “yahahan lahahng pleahahse ill dohoho ahahanythihihng! Aahahanythihing!”

Most times when Yan Wushi would tickle Shen Qiao, he would ignore such pleas and begs, however, whatever “anything” entails has Yan Wushi curious. “Anything?” Yan Wushi raises his head up and raises an eyebrow with a wolfish grin, Shen Qiao knew what the consequences were for using that excuse, but at least the tickling stopped. “Mn” Shen Qiao reluctantly nodded as he was a man of his word.

“Alright” without another word Yan Wushi scoops up his beloved into his hold as Shen Qiao doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at what the “anything” will entail today.

#danmei tickle #danmei #thousand autumns #qian qiu #千秋 #Shen qiao #Yan Wushi #ticklish shen qiao #ler yan wushi #yanshen #sfw #my post #augtickletober2022

[patchesproblem]

tell us more about the immortal cat au

BET ACTUALLY

So to start off with it happens more in the future after Honkai was eradicated / sealed away. More than likely a few years after it after everything calmed down and they weren't on the constant verge of deadly threat every five seconds.

There's actually a first draft and a second draft when it comes to this. The original idea was that they figured out a way to replicate their immortality and just kinda tested it on a cat and kept it, but it was scrapped because I doubt they'd actively be trying to replicate immortality when it's more of a curse than a blessing lmao. It originally was from like Novemebr or December I believe, so it's relatively old.

For now the immortal cat doesn't really have a place of origin. The current ideas are maybe that it was created (think kinda like Theresa?? But also not really because this is a literal animal) or that some freak accident happened. It doesn't really matter because the cat itself is what's more important because it terrorizes everyone and everything in it's path.

Imagine if you took everything that makes Einstein and Tesla menaces to society but put it into a cat that doesn't have to face consequences or societal shame.

The cat can be really sweet yes, but it can also ruin your day. It can and will knock anything it feels like over. It's definetly ruined electronics before.

Tesla and her are besties but they are in a constant war with each other. When Teslas had a bad day it'll curl up with her and comfort her, but on any other day it'll be knocking stuff off of her desk or nightstand and running off with her glasses without a care. She's probably ran off with her tools at some point tbh. Also has probably knocked several screwdrivers underneath things and neither Tesla nor Einstein can reach far enough to get them back. Anti-Entropys funds are having to be put towards buying new equipment because of their pet they refuse to get rid of.

The cat is at war with Einstein too except on a lesser, less destructive scale. Their war is exactly like how Einstein chooses to mess with people. It's clear. It's subtle. It will drive you insane nonetheless. It'll stare at her dead in the eyes flicking its tail having a staring contest. They both know it's about to do something the only question is when and what. Minutes later she's chasing it around their dorm trying to get her sandwich back that it stole.

Basically it kinda mimics each of them. It's also just a cat and cats are just like that tbh (source I have a menace of my own that has destroyed many electronics and has shoved her face in my food when I glanced away.)

Though it's not all chaos. They see her as their kid and actively make sure that it has the best life they can give it. Probably one of the most spoiled cats known to man kind. It sleeps with them and just kinda chills with them most of the time when it's not being a destructive unstoppable force.

It also really enjoys chasing the laser pointers and tries to play with Einsteins hair and probably attacks Teslas pigtails LMAO.

Also does not like men. The cat just stares at them and hisses before running off. It does not care for Joachim in the slightest.

Oh and her names S'more. She's a tortoise shell and Tesla 100% put a bow on her. They take her out with them sometimes and she goes on buisness trips with them.

I think Tesla probably brushes her often too and makes sure that her furs pretty and soft. Don't know why I just think she would. They treat it like it's their child so nothing would surprise me. Probably say stuff like "go harass your mother" or something like that.

#nikola responds to asks #fluerdriviere #sorry for the long response but this immortal cat is very important to me #S'more makes guest apperances in other things I write occassionally too #she's a re occuring character in the Patches einsla-verse ig #einsla #nikolas posts

[layeredwanderings]

Going back over my logs of EastEast. A lot of thoughts below the cut. Edit: Fixed the uh. text duplication. I think.

Thoughts on characters:

Camille [17] is “a Corpse from the Neck Down” and yet most of Doc Slaughter’s notes on her focus on her psychological issues. Is this just something normal there. Ria [R5] tries to control/destroy reality to avoid the inevitable pain of being disappointed. #girl.

Not sure who “Ms Closer” and “Ms Flower” are. Unless Flower (who “says Reality is an Illusion”) is Ria? Unsure, though - in MHT3, Slaughter says there’s no artifact presence among her clients. And in MHT1 she says that Closer and Camille are both paying for the same work... maybe Closer is a friend of Camille’s who wants her to get therapy?

Neville [R2] is actually doing well and just getting therapy because “you never know”. His twin Devona [R4] has problems, albeit relatively normal ones. Not sure if they actually are twins, or just friends and are called “The Twins” for some reason.

Someone called “the Killer” refuses therapy, and Doc Slaughter is more curious about their fear of being known than the whole being called The Killer thing. (Then again, her own name is Slaughter... but names and titles are probably different things.) I wonder if this character and “The Eye Killer” are the same or different.

Doc Slaughter will get deported from “this layer of Reality” if she interacts with Witherby [R1]. Wonder why that is. Also, is he the only one who doesn’t commit tax evasion? Or just the only one who has anything to file taxes on? :thinking: Possibly similar to him, Doc Slaughter isn’t supposed to think about Vik or, presumably, she goes all weird in some sort of way. Are they a living cognitohazard or does she just have a weird thing about something to do with them?

Yongki [I1] [47] got his mind completely wiped every time he saw his own reflection in a mirror, until the Captain showed up. Kinda fucked up. Is the 47 the number of times it happened while Slaughter was treating him? Is the Captain his roommate or headmate? A few things imply the latter.

Parker [21] knows he’s in an isekai setting, and has hopped multiple universes. And has no impulse control. Get this man some ADHD medication stat. He has a “proclivity towards deep tunnels into the earth”... I have no idea what that means but it sounds fun. Minecraft.

Khana [I3] is pretty much a Beholding avatar, whose coping strategy is violence. He seems like an interesting character.

The concept of this “Shambling Horror” guy [C-003] is interesting. I think at some point I read something in which Slaughter mentioned that the Horror was wearing her face? Could be wrong on that, though. She also says that "Lesser" horrors don't have the ability to fit into society better than anyone else. His partner Tyrfing has some interesting aliases. "That Guy With The Sword, That Guy With the Worm Babies". Wonder what his deal is.

Overall, the characters that interest me the most are Yongki, Parker, and Camille. I'll have to keep reading through the site for more.

Thoughts on other things -

“The 12 Call To Me.” I wonder what this means.

Slaughter says “The Whispers Within me call for Ronin.”

She casually mentions "a few minutes of lost memory" upon questioning the Captain a bit too hard... is that normal for her, or one of his abilities?

All of her patients have been in this universe for "centuries" before she arrived, and she mentioned something about "Loop[s] of the Spiral". Timeloops?

The patients all worked for a corporation that benefited from "Employee Trauma associated with Containing Horrors." I wonder if Horrors here includes the Shambling Horror guy or if he's just called that. There’s someone named Wanda [Last Name Unknowable], and someone named “Not-A-Minotaur” so clearly names are just weird in this setting.

#User: Pilot #zampaniosim #EastEast #if the readmore on this post doesnt work im going to bite something #writing this up as a distraction from my current struggles with Unity. why is animation so got damn finicky #been nice to read something other than Lovecraft. I've decided to read all his writing for some godforsaken reason and like #I understand how he became so influential in the field of cosmic horror #but also the dude literally could not stop being racist for five minutes. and his writing style started getting annoying #around the 45th time he described somethign as unnamable or by briefly listing everything that it wasn't #not that those aren't useful techniques. but theyre better used in moderation

[braverytattoos]

ooh i have true crime/paranormal podcast recs! (similarly i used to listen to morbid but just can't lately) i like crime junkie, though they can be hit or miss - especially in more recent episodes, they try to focus on cases that are unsolved or underreported. lore and unexplained are good paranormal ones, though they can be a little slow. and i know it's a big name but i have to say last podcast on the left. their style takes a little getting used to, at first it comes off as very crude and disrespectful, but i actually think they're some of the most empathetic true crime hosts i've listened to. i think the jack the ripper episodes are a great place to start and demonstrate what i mean about being crude but still being really empathetic to the victims. they also, in my opinion, are the best at not glorifying the serial killers or making them out to be evil geniuses and instead show how they're mostly just like, shitty pathetic men.

glad you can relate, i tried to go back to listening to morbid after like a year of not and i found they there is just no effort put into their episodes anymore, so annoying haha. i've listened to a few episodes from all of those podcasts you mentioned and i agree, last podcast on the left is my fav out of all of them, crime junkie used to be good too but i agree, its a little hard to get interested in the more "lesser known" crimes but its still interesting. thank you for the suggestions! i'm def going to have to give last podcast on the left another shot!

#annonymous #true crime

[veetlegeuse]

hit me with some lesser-known lore about the harlow siblings?! i Miss Them. hehe <3 luv, court's main

oh man i am gonna have to dig deep down with this one because i feel like i’ve shared so much about them over the years lmao

mabel:

— mabel keeps everything anyone has ever given her. even insignificant things, like wrappers from sticks of gum queenie has given her or bottlecaps from all the free sodas she gets at pop’s because of this, she has half a wall of shelves over her bed just cluttered with trinkets and things, and any flat surface is also just Covered in stuff. she’s a maximalist, for sure. (she also has a small stuffed to the brim with fortunes from fortune cookies.)

— mabel is the kind of person who quits if she’s not immediately good at the thing that she’s trying to do. maddox has tried to teach her piano several times but she can’t figure out how to get one hand to do something while the other one does something else.

— mabel can recite the entire script from she’s the man. she believes it’s one of the greatest movies ever made.

maddox:

— sometimes during the off seasons of all his sports (which are few and far between) maddox participates in community theater. it serves as an outlet for him to let out all of his feelings without actually having to, like, go to therapy. (even though he knows he should.) he’s even convinced mabel to join him a few times. his favorite role was marius in les mis.

— maddox acts as lux’s handyman as a thank you for letting him move in with her. (he definitely did more damage than fixing at first, until he gave himself a crash course on youtube.) it wasn’t long before word got around the southside that he was actually pretty decent and didn’t charge, so he does a lot of work around sunnyside.

— maddox is the only one (besides reggie, obvi) in the southside friend group who doesn’t have a bite mark scar from fangs, who used to bite as a kid, hence the name fangs. (thank u @waterloou for this headcanon) (reggie does have a bite mark scar but that’s from mabel and obviously for another time lmao)

#oc: mabel harlow #oc: maddox harlow #vee answers

[vaeltan-louxser]

Vaeltan Lore

(this looks like a school portrait lmao)

Name: Vaeltan (approximate IPA pronunciation: vˈa͡ɪeltɑn), aka Vae, Vaeltan Loux, Vaeltan the Dragon-Hearted

Age: Early 30’s during game events

Height: 5’6’’

Weight/build: 160 lbs, built like a sprinter

Favored weapons: Dragon Communion/Cult incantations, heavy thrusting swords, and curved greatswords. Signatures are Dragonclaw, Ancient Dragon’s Lightning Spear, Dragon King’s Cragblade, Bloodhound’s Fang

Personality: Big ENFP, chaotic optimist, restless, curious, looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll

Likes:

Those rolling sheep in Limgrave

Food (especially Big Boggart’s cooking)

Stormy weather

Jolly Cooperation! Making connections with people and finding common ground (to a certain point - there are things he doesn’t tolerate) to work together is important to him, as he wants so desperately to avoid falling back into isolation

People in general? No one is unimportant to him, and he actively tries to get along with everyone he meets (again, to a certain point). He can be a bit of a people-pleaser/yes-man as a result

Dislikes:

His height and/or alopecia being rudely mocked

Condescension

The Outer Gods (all of them, especially the one responsible for the Frenzied Flame)

The Golden Order. An ideology that treats some people as lesser/unimportant for superficial reasons? Not into it

Solitude and silence (he’s extremely restless and doesn’t like being left alone with his thoughts, having had more than enough of that in his youth)

Manipulators with obscured, ulterior motives. In fact, he’s terrified of them

Being controlled: “I don’t fear death. I fear a life where I am not in control of myself or my actions.”

Fate is an iffy one for him, given his headfirst dive into dragon communion without knowing the consequences

Spark Notes background below:

The son of Hoarah Loux and a woman formerly of the Grand Caravan known as Saira, Vaeltan was born in the Badlands outside the Lands Between. His mother had floated between different territories for years as a loner, and, though her tryst with Hoarah Loux was short, it was neither a secret that it was going on in the first place nor that she became pregnant as a result.

Initially, his mother was welcomed among the tribe with open arms, both her and the remnants of the Great March being outcasts sticking together. But, after she suddenly announced that her and Hoarah Loux’s son had been stillborn, she all but disappeared and a strange string of other disappearances began to plague the tribe.

Worst fears were confirmed one day when the missing people were found, their eyeless and near-lifeless husks contorted into a crucible to hold a budding Frenzied Flame, Saira meticulously tending to it.

The flame was snuffed and the surviving tribe cursed her name, not understanding that, in truth, it was she who had died in childbirth. Upon her death, something or someone else had begun to puppet her corpse, constructing the crucible and tending to her and Hoarah Loux’s son.

Those who had found the crucible also found a toddler, tightly blindfolded and extremely malnourished, sleeping in a corner of Saira’s former dwelling. At Hoarah Loux’s demand, this child, his son, was spared and brought reluctantly into the tribe’s fold.

The tribe’s last impressions of his mother soured their first impressions of her son, despite the other half of his parentage. Vaeltan was nameless for the first years of his life. Rumors abound that he was given a name by his mother similar to her own, but the few who agreed to care for him refused to address him by any sort of name. It would be years before he chose the name ‘Vaeltan’ for himself.

Once he was better able to fend for himself he was kept at axe’s length, and allowed to live only on the fringes of the tribe’s territory. There, he carved out a meagre existence, raising himself while also attempting to survive the harsh environment. But, survive he did.

And, not without help. As the years went on, Hoarah Loux had another child, Nepheli, who didn’t listen to the things whispered about the ‘feral, cursed son living on the fringes.’ Knowing he was her half-brother (something that was no secret), she sought him out, finding him wan and sickly. He was, of course, intensely distrusting of and even hostile towards her at first, but after several offerings of food, he warmed up to her.

From the angry and bitter loner who flinched every time anyone got within arm’s reach of him, a surprisingly kind young man emerged, one who desperately yearned for a connection with his family and tribe. Nepheli, in reaching out, befriending him, and treating him not just as a person but as a brother, effectively saved him.

With Nepheli’s encouragement, he would make a tenuous connection with the rest of the tribe, and was employed as a gatherer and scout for several years. His death would come the same day as Hoarah Loux’s death, when the tribe was attacked by a rag-tag army of frenzyflame-wielding raiders. He made his last stand defending the few survivors of the attack (Nepheli among them), earning himself a Hero’s sky-burial.

The call of long-lost grace, however, would kick him back to life.

Fun(?) facts:

Vaeltan went mysteriously and quickly bald (actually a case of autoimmune alopecia totalis) in his early teens, and became unable to grow anything beyond very sparse stubble, to his dismay. Since then, he’s obsessively hidden his head under hoods, scarves, and helmets. Ironically, his alopecia comes from his father’s side of the family (who would’ve thought, given that ol’ Dadfrey Loux has as much hair as he does). Headcanon time: Mohg is also hairless/bald for the same reason and became so in his own teenage years. Before going bald, Vaeltan had very thin and wispy platinum blond hair.

He’s the shortest and smallest adult in his immediate blood family, by far. Younger half-sister Nepheli? She’s nearly a foot taller. Older half-brothers Morg, Mohg, and Godwyn? Twice as tall. Dadfrey Loux? Vae fits easily in one of his hands. Even his mother was taller than him. All jokes and memes aside, he was incredibly malnourished as a child (the, uh, particular entity puppeting his mother’s corpse after his birth fed him mostly grapes) and his growth was stunted as a result.

He has awful Madness and Sleep resistances. Like, barely any.

Getting stabbed in the chest by Morgott’s blood sword during their duel at the Elden Throne prior to reconciling cursed (blessed? Blursed?) him with Omenhood and all the horns, nightmares, and pyrophoric blood that comes with it. When his horns eventually do sprout, they’re are extremely brittle due to his alopecia. His nightmares, which began immediately, often feature people with their heads replaced with roiling spheres of yellow flame. What makes his situation particularly uncertain is that he’s simultaneously fighting impending communion-based devolution into a wyrm at that point. Who know what will happen and when?

In VaeCanon/GGGAU, he and Roderika have two kiddos post-game events. They’re fraternal twins, both Omen (taking after Vaeltan in that department), and are, of course, far taller than both their parents. Gratia, the slightly older sister, is bald n’ buff and punches Leyndell’s problems away, whereas Hewgwyn, the slightly younger brother named after the late master smith, is a scraggly-looking beanpole who becomes a librarian and has a mild talent for spirit tuning.

#Elden Ring RP #Lessons from a Louxser #Vaebes #munart #tarnished OC

[quirkthieves]

he overheard something from kaminari earlier.  something about how ibara was kind of…  weird about the holiday, which made it harder to gift anything to her.  apparently, the person in question had some lesser-known traditions and connections to the day beyond the usual, and katsuki has taken it a challenge to find out just what.

of course, katsuki does not plan on going cheap;  if he’s going to give a gift, then he was going to make it decent.  it’s easy enough to get a hold of some high-quality chocolates for ibara  -  though he isn’t sure which flavours.  he guesses caramel.

“oi.”  it probably doesn’t surprise anyone that the young bakugou doesn’t have any particular nickname in mind for someone he doesn’t interact with on a regular basis, fully prepared to default to his usual ‘extra’ term  -  but he does brainstorm a few while he does this.  plantlife?  no, boring.  jungle-hair?  hm.  it’s more creative, at least.  “here.”  whatever the case, katsuki shoves the box one-handed into her arms, though his gaze doesn’t quite match his.  “don’t mention it.”

What a surprise!

Ibara can't help but feel a little guilty when she realizes the name of this student has entirely escaped him, as well as where they knew each other... Surely, he must be in the hero course... Full of burrs of his own...

Ah, yes. This was Kaminari's friend. The boy that always smelled like bread when he used his quirk. (Ibara did not know or care that Bakugou did not actually smell like bread, but rather it was simply her quirk responding to all the carbon dioxide he put off by giving her the vague impression of food.)

"Thank you very much." The polite response comes quickly, because he is a polite boy, but there's an undeniable curiosity in her gaze as she tries to figure out what the motivation behind the gift could be.

She simply settles on the fact that this boy must just be rather kind underneath his prickles. The nectar within a cactus.

Well, it was only the good and proper thing to do to reciprocate Cactus Boy's kindness. Reaching into his bag, she pulls out a few Valentine's cards-- but instead of the usual messages, they're covered meticulously in messages wishing the recipient health and warding away wicked spirits. The handwriting is obsessively neat, and quite small, allowing for line after line of the mantras to be wrapped around each other and fill the space. Clearly, a lot of work went into these.

"Take these. They will fortify your heart and mind against illness, and in turn, your body." An awkward pause follows, but Ibara finds the words.

"I know... You probably don't celebrate Feast Days... But if you'd like, I am putting together something in the name of Saint Valentine," she says. "I would be honored to return your generosity there, if it is pleasing to you. There will be honeyed rolls... and honey buns... and chili flake honey loaf...and honeycomb bread with cheese..." It was quite the spread planned. But mostly bread and honey.

#dynmghts #for once bkg is the one being nicknamed #PIERCED GOSPEL://IBARA IC #FROM BELOW HOSANNA://IBARA MAIN VERSE