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probablybadrpgideas · 2 months

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Inverted metagaming. The players aren't allowed to know what the characters do, but their characters know everything the player does.

#Tick here to allow us to use in the podcast #Generic #Meta #Rule Idea #submission #Potentially Impossible #Mind-Bending

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tmarshconnors · 4 months

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"Truth is as terrible as death but harder to find."

Philip Kindred Dick, often referred to by his initials PKD, was an American science fiction writer. He wrote 44 novels and about 121 short stories, most of which appeared in science fiction magazines during his lifetime.

Born: 16 December 1928, Chicago, Illinois, United States

Died: 2 March 1982, Santa Ana, California, United States

Influential Works: Philip K. Dick's impact on science fiction is profound, with several of his works adapted into popular films. "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" served as the basis for the iconic film "Blade Runner," directed by Ridley Scott. The movie's success helped cement Dick's reputation in mainstream culture.

Personal Struggles: Dick faced numerous personal challenges throughout his life, including financial difficulties and mental health issues. His struggles with mental health and experiences with hallucinations and visions heavily influenced his writing, contributing to the surreal and introspective nature of many of his works.

Prolific Output: Despite his personal challenges, Dick maintained a remarkably prolific writing career. He wrote 44 novels and over 100 short stories during his lifetime. His ability to produce imaginative and thought-provoking content at such a high volume is a testament to his dedication to the craft of writing.

Philosophical Themes: Dick's works often explore philosophical and metaphysical themes, challenging the boundaries of reality and identity. Questions about what is real, the nature of consciousness, and the impact of technology on humanity are recurring motifs in his stories, reflecting his deep interest in these subjects.

Posthumous Recognition: While he faced financial struggles during his lifetime, Philip K. Dick gained increased recognition after his death. His influence on science fiction literature and the exploration of complex philosophical ideas have earned him a lasting legacy. The Philip K. Dick Award, established in 1982, is given annually to outstanding science fiction works in paperback original format, honoring his contributions to the genre.

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howtocarveroastunicorn · 1 year

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If "Life on Mars", "The Matrix" & "Inception" had a baby...

WAKE UP - white injection T-Shirt

WAKE UP - black injection T-Shirt

#1899 #DARK #German #TV show #period mystery #supernatural #mind-bending #science fiction #sci-fi #TeePublic #tee #Barn Bocock #WAKE UP #Life on Mars #The Matrix #Inception

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writingforevren · 1 year

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WIP Intro - Eldenstow Creek

{ Story Description }

A drive through the empty roads of the countryside, along the edge of the woods and away from everything they'd once known. Sounds nice right? well not when you're running from something, something far more sinister than what they were about to encounter. The world was not as it seemed, there was another side, a side where strangeness & evil resided. Circuses popping out of seemingly nowhere, pools of mystical water trying to pull them in, unintended consequences after trying to fight this higher power. Everything had seemed normal but then they’d made one mistake, messed with the wrong person, spilled the blood of something they never should've. So yeah. They were in the same car and driving along the edge of the woods. Nothing to it.

{ The Basics }

Genre - Urban Fantasy & Mystery

Themes & Tropes - Mystical, Supernatural, Adventure, Unlikely Friends, Unintended consequences, Derealization, Fear of The Unknown, Dark Imagery, LGBTQ+ Characters, POC characters, Dreamlike Descriptions, Mind-bending, Self-sacrifice, and Horror.

Setting - Fictional locations in Eastern U.S & Fantasy Locations

Status - Plotting & Drafting

Point Of View - Third Person Limited

Content Warning - Contains Dark Topics such as assault, violence & murder.

{ Spoiler-Free Synopsis }

Shae Brooks is just trying to live a ‘normal’ life, at least not one full of fantasy creatures and a girl who seems to be more full of bullshit than anyone else he’d ever met. He makes one mistake, he interacts with the wrong person, but instead of just letting him deal with his own problems like a normal person, a girl named Ruby Gardner comes along and decides the best course of action is violence.

Not wanting to be arrested for a crime he didn’t commit the best course of action is to go with her right? And when things go south from there the only choice is to follow this lunatic girl who seems to be stuck in her head far more than the real world wherever she intends to take them. The further they venture, the weirder things get, pools of mystical water, creatures from the unknown, woods that seem to be unending, bottomless creeks, and a journey they’d truly never forget.

But the question is... why? why any of it? Why does he choose to go along with this girl who is the exact opposite of himself, whom he never in a million years thought could be a friend. What is this girl hiding and why did she do something so unthinkable such as spilling the blood of another?

There’s love and there’s loss, but nothing is as it seems and that stands true for the happy ending as well.

{ Eldenstow Creek Playlist }

Mysterious & Unusual, the perfect accompaniment to this story.

{ Notes & Conclusion }

I was inspired to write this story by two very different stories, one of which is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman where it starts off seemingly normal and gets more and more strange as time goes on, and the other is The End of The F***ing World mostly in writing style and also the whole- murder thing y’know? So if like those, you might like this one.

Character Intros will hopefully be soon (if I get any interaction that would help motivate me to share) for the two main characters Ruby and Shae who are complete opposites but both have very strong personalities.

This story is early in development, I’ve just written bits and pieces here and there but I did want to put an intro out there so if you are interested in this idea, you can watch as it develops.

{ General Writing Taglist }

{ Eldenstow Creek Taglist }

this one’s empty for now but if you’d like to be informed of updates and shared excerpts feel free to send an ask and I’ll add you :)

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #creative writing #original writing #wip: eldenstow creek #wip: roadnoise #renwrites #mystery #urban fantasy #mind-bending #supernatural #adventure #I know I said I wouldn't be posting much but I remembered this was in my drafts and had to

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writin-kusu · 1 year

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Surreal Depth

The day had started out like any other. The sun had risen, birds had sung and the world had seemed like it always had. But as the day went on, things began to change. The sky grew darker and darker until it was pitch black. The air grew colder and colder until it was like ice against my skin. I had been walking for hours, searching for any sign of civilization, but all I had come across was the river.

I had heard stories of this river before, rumors that it was cursed and that those who entered its waters never came back. But as I looked upon it, there was something that drew me in. The water was still, not even a ripple disturbed its surface. I could see straight to the bottom, the sand and rocks below clear as day. I stepped closer, ignoring the warnings in my mind that screamed for me to turn back.

As I reached out to touch the water's edge, my hand went straight through. Panic surged through me, but I couldn't move. The water was beckoning me, pulling me towards it. I stepped closer, my feet sinking into the soft ground beneath me. The water grew deeper and deeper until it was up to my waist.

Suddenly, the fish in the stream began to swim towards me, their eyes glowing an unnatural shade of red. They swarmed around me, their sharp teeth bared. I tried to back away, but the ground beneath me gave way and I was pulled under.

The water filled my lungs, suffocating me. I could feel something pulling me down, dragging me deeper into the depths. And then, all of a sudden, I was alone. I was back on the bank of the river, gasping for air.

I looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But nothing made sense. The trees were gone, the sky was black and the only sound was the silence that surrounded me. I realized then that I was trapped in this surrealistic world, a world where nothing was quite what it seemed.

As I wandered along the bank of the river, I saw things that made my blood run cold. A woman standing in the middle of the water, her face twisted in agony. A man hanging from a tree, his eyes staring back at me accusingly. Everywhere I looked, there were signs of death and despair.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The sky turned blue again, the sun came out and the world was back to normal. I stumbled away from the river, my mind reeling from what I had just experienced. But as I walked away, I knew that I would never forget the horrors that had occurred along its banks. The river had changed me, and I knew that I would never be the same again.

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kyoshi-lesbians · 2 months

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The Blind Bandit | The Bullpen

[video description: an amv of Toph as the Blind Bandit set to The Bullpen by Dessa, focused on her earthbending skills fighting in Earth Rumble VI. the ending sequence shows her leaving her home to join Aang, Katara, and Sokka. end description.]

forget the bull in the china shop / there's a china doll in the bullpen

#toph #the blind bandit #just a simple little vid this time #an ode to my favorite earthbender :)#but not a thesis statement. yk?#ive had this amv idea in my mind for Literal Years. crazy that its here now!#amv #she literally found this here ladder (earth bending as a mobility aid) and got glass floors (became best earth bender in the world)#is the thing!#vid #r.post

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sensitiveheartless · 2 months

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Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.

~*~

Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.

Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.

His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.

Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.

Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.

And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.

In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.

In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.

Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.

For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.

Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.

As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.

Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.

“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”

Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.

“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”

Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.

“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.

Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.

…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.

“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”

Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.

One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.

Nothing happened.

Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.

His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.

It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.

After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.

When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.

His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.

At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.

“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”

“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”

“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”

Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”

There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.

It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.

“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”

That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.

After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.

“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.

“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.

“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”

Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”

“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.

“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.

“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.

“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”

Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.

“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.

“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”

Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”

“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”

Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”

Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”

Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”

Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff.

Hiding again, Chuuya thought.

For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.

Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.

But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.

Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.

And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.

Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.

“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”

That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.

“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”

“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.

“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.

“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”

Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”

That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.

All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”

Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.

He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.

“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”

Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”

Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.

Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.

“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.

Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”

“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”

“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”

There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.

He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.

“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.

Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”

Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.

Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.

And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.

So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”

Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”

Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.

And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.

The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.

“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”

A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”

At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”

A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”

“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”

#...possibly I should also put this on ao3 for ease of reading #do I know what I'm doing? nope #no thoughts only vibing #but anyway I hope this was an enjoyable explanation of the Creature in the horrors comic!#'A Face Like Glass' is a book I absolutely adore by Frances Hardinge :D It's got a lot of mind-bending concepts in it!#so it seemed like a fun thing to turn into a bsd oc monster #can you believe this started as an attempt to give Chuuya hugs lol #technically succeeded! but at what cost #the horrors comic #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #soukoku #skk #senhart's writing

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robo-beasty · 5 months

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Tepid, miserable child. Enver Flymm.

Then, a warlock offered us a pretty penny for Enver's service. He was a smart boy —too smart. It was give him up —and all of us live— or refuse, and die.

#oh enver #fear not child #if they will not accept you for your mind #then they must bend to your power #one day they will all be under your command #and you'll never have to feel fear again.#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #lord enver gortash #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #lord gortash #my art

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amygdalae · 6 months

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I think ppl who defend or handwave all of Astarion's evil cunt moments as just being cuz he's a Helpless Victim with Trauma are kidding themselves and not giving him enough credit. He's also a bitchy mean-spirited sicko who lives for chaos and drama entirely of his own volition

(Disclaimer: I like him a lot he's a fun well written character please do not kill me)

#do u truly even like a character if u gotta bend over backwards explaining away all of their flaws to justify your enjoyment of them #anyways. definitely not putting this in the main tag lol #its also why i feel no impulse to get defensive when ppl say they dont like him because i fully understand someone not finding him endearin #even if personally his romance is like crack to me #bg3 #<- changed my mind im putting this in the main tag

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