Amethar, A Little Prince Of The House Of Rocks, So Far Away From The Throne. Lover And Loved. He Makes

Surely it has been talked about how Penelope Everpetal and Aelwyn Abernant were definitely, 1000% a thing before she was taken to jail+kidnapped to Fallinel and Penelope died

"because you were lied to, does not mean that everything is a lie. do not take the crimes of those who have manipulated us and put them at the feet of the world."

brennan lee mulligan sometimes you say shit like this during a campaign and it makes me want to tear my hair out

Thinking about Evan Kelmp and Raphaniel

This absolutely breaks my fucking heart 💔

(Misfits and Magic, episode 4)

I have so many thoughts about Deli, Colin, Karna and Ariana that I cannot put into a coherent sentence as of current so this Tumblr post is all I have to say

A right hand man. A trusty sword. A friend.

Deli finds comfort in his new acquaintance. Colin Provolone is a sturdy and simple man— quick and skilled in battle, a loyal and reliable in service, and also a good friend. Deli, with boyhood now smudged against the edges of his face, grows into his position of The Meat Lands.

Colin keeps the promise he made years ago to a disgruntled mother in the corner of an expansive hall in Comida. He listens and enacts the advises and discussions made for the benefit of this land far from home. He keeps guard and wrestles the yawns that strangle his throat and eyes as politics are discussed. All standing, never leaving, the right hand of Deli.

Colin watches Deli through the days, this leader guided with a willpower of steel, the love and dedication to the unification of his home watering his quick growth and maturation. Two years and Deli had become a fearsome, confident and ambitious young man.

Then Deli lies a gift upon his shoulders— Skald Colin Provolone, meaning poet (sing the songs of heroes, be my witness, carve my name into history, approve of my works).

And when Deli uses this title, Colin doesn’t question. He only grips his sword tighter, stands straighter, observes steadier. Deli’s sword and shield. His skald, his poet.

And at night he meets a softer, kinder Deli. They sit on the edge of Deli’s bed, talking and laughing about smaller matters. Sweeter things, like childhood and gossip that whisper down the hallways. He watched Deli’s expressions pour out, an innocence that splays across his face. He finds delight in those times, a remedy for a past he tries to forget. Light laughter, “simple is always how we’ve kept things”, and drunkenness fills the air between the two.

Two quiet years. Then comes blood.

And blood and blood pours from a carriage and drips, viscous, hot and real from hands and blades.

A quiet shatter in friendship. A trusty sword clanks at the feet of Deli and the familiar, light scent of cheese drifts far away from the house.

For the first time in two years, Deli is alone. A void renders behind him where his skald, his poet, would be standing.

And then five years pass and Colin sees Deli again. Scars rip at his face and he explains in whispers the ambush which landed him with it. Colin examines Deli’s face and finds little. A hardened and rough man. Colin thinks Deli resembles his mother.

Colin thinks about how he might’ve been able to prevent it, how he would’ve kept his promise, how he would have been able to protect him or die trying. Deli’s sword and shield, his skald, his poet.

There, Colin watches Karna die and the light leave Deli’s eyes. He watches the replaced Skald (and he thinks about the way Deli reached out to her with this title that fit her so effortlessly) shredded into a million pieces and he hears something in Deli die along with it.

This time Colin saves him. He nurses his old friend to stability and yet the “yeah, we’ll talk later” never comes as he watches Deli walk off into the sunset, now a man that would never be the boy, the friend Colin knew five years ago. A man with a cold and lifeless portrait, his soft edges ragged and a heart half rotten.

A sword. A shield. A skald, a poet. Colin keeps a promise to a mother and son made seven years ago. A protector, dedicated and loyal. He swings his sword quietly, precisely, dangerously against the ones who killed all his friends, dead or alive. Colin Provolone, sole survivor of the Saprophus, the poet of dead heroes.

The Rook’s exchange.

Is there any greater blasphemy than that of an angel who fell in love with a demon?

He came to the earth at the dawn of its creation, his directive to enact God's will. The Archangels stressed upon him that, in so doing, it was imperative that he oppose The Enemy. They told him what he would face: one of the Fallen, a demon.

He thought he understood the nature of this creature of darkness.

But he was wrong.

Where there ought to have been ugliness, he found only beauty.

Where he expected cruelty, he found kindness.

Heaven had prepared him to thwart the wiles of a heart of evil, yet he found one that harbored goodness, gentleness.

A demon who protected the weak, the innocent.

A demon who mourned, who grieved.

How could Heaven have been so utterly mistaken? For he was assured that the demon had the devil in him.

But in this creature's soul, he can see God.

Beautiful. Kind. Gentle. Good.

To say nothing of his cleverness, his wit, his charm, his appeal.

The demon intrigues him. He subverts his every expectation. He is a fascination.

More than all that.

The demon makes him laugh.

Makes him feel.

Listens to him. Challenges him.

Saves him.

And as the centuries pass, he finds that in the demon's presence, an emptiness he didn't know he had is filled; as though the broken edges of their spirits fit together; as though they were made for one another.

He knows the Host of Heaven whisper.

They call it blasphemy. Abomination.

They wonder in horror:

How could an angel fall in love with a demon?

The truth is...

How could he have done anything else.

There are certain times of the day where the numbers align in perfect harmony and a familiar glow of magic illuminates the world for that singular minute.

It’s 7:21am and you’re running through the sweet spring fields, far away from home with the hand of your twin sister— your half soul held strong and confident in yours. Both of you dream of a life away from the responsibilities neither of you understand. You leave scarecrows in place of yourself in the classroom of your chocolate bunny teacher.

It’s 3:03pm and this is the first time you smell what you have only have heard stories of. The stink of bloodlust, of a tidal wave war, of screams and the clattering of iron, of a mother’s tears and the crackling fires of revenge. You and your people survive. An assassination attempt was made on your father. You feel rusted gears start cranking, slow and threatening, deep underneath the earth as the wails of the fallen fill your ears.

It’s 8:45am and forbidden confessions echo against the walls of the holy. Words you did not know were capable of escaping your father’s mouth, old and dusty secrets pouring out and you realise you do not know him. Your sister’s hand grip yours and your crowns spilt into two, simple metal clattering against god-forsaken grounds as everything you have known now lies at your feet. You narrowly escape the church. You witness the brutal murder of a friend. “The Bulb cares for no one.” You run.

It’s 10:05pm and you embrace your mother for the first time in weeks. You see the way she looks at your father. You see the way she scrambles to find some resemblance in him of an older lost one and fail to do so. Her soft and love swelled eyes that grace you and your sister does not land on your father and you wonder if she deserves the wordless losses she has dealt with. She demands that you and your friend go to rest but you, your father’s child, see too much, hear too much and you run away from the castle to explore as you did before all this.

It’s 12:01am and you draw your last breath. You feel yourself slip into the mist within the warm arms of your friend, your brother. “Tell Ruby that I love her, and tell her that she did the right thing.” You feel yourself loose the tight grip of your sister’s hand, your mother’s, your father’s.

Your dream of fighting for the world has been fulfilled. No longer princess, instead a warrior in war. And you remember the stories of the soldiers— you feel the warmth of your father’s arms around you, of your mother and sister’s tears soaking the earth above you and you sleep, knowing that you have protected what is most important to you and that they still have the breath to even mourn.

It’s 6:33am and you smile a little smile and sleep— a sister, a daughter, a princess and a warrior.

ive been thinking about this today and just feel the need to sing praises to it

the last stand fight is literally one of my favourites if not the favourite from D20

and, you know, its probably not the hardest or the most story important one, but god its just so good

like the fact that non of them dropped??? that they didnt even get that injured and yeah on some part it obviously was the dice as it often tends to be in dnd but it was also them showing how well they work together

i feel like they all play into their strengths very well it this fight and they even talk about it in the adventuring party like if it werent for spell casters with area of effect spell the fighters would stand no chance, but also noone else could probably tank all that shit from the purple worm like gorgug

and like the decision from emily axford to disguise herself as the proctor was so good and yeah again luck also played into that but if she didnt do it, there would be no chance at even having that luck

and also her spirit guardians (love that spell) delt so much damage, and adaine coming in with the scatter to move the proctor away, which leads to kristin coming closer to there, which allows her to see kipper whats her face and stop whatever she was about to do

and then theres the exams part which they fully blow out of the park, like im pretty sure there was at least one question from like freshman year like prompts to you for remembering, also them actually attempting the math and essay and the essay actually kind of making sense and being about something that the characters genuinely care about

even if we go back to the dice, fig is struggling it that fight (and honestly the whole season) but because of so many good strategical decisions that emily makes, the impact of the dice is not as big as it could have been, if she had done things differently

also everyones vibe is so good the entire fight, like this fight was not made to be easy, they were probably met to at least drop maybe even multiple times, but they are having fun with it, joking around about the rats and the jellies and honestly its a very on brand fight for the bad kids

i also just remember the amount of nat 20 zac rolled in that fight, like that was insane

I was rewatching the Hitting on 16 vod and holy shit I think I cracked the code to as why the dynamic between c!crimeboys in the final c!Wilbur lore stream felt off.

No, because now all of this makes sense. The finale of Wilbur’s story makes sense. c!crimeboy's dynamic isn’t what it used to be in Lmanberg. It’s changed and c!Tommy is used to the way Wilbur uses words now. It has “no effect on Tommy anymore. They just make him a little frightened”

Tommy: “You’re scaring me” Wilbur: “I don’t want to scare you” Tommy: “Well you are Will!”

This exchange makes sense.

“He felt he had done something wrong simply by posing his pov and he felt like the antagonist when all he wanted was an answer”

The entire stream, whatever felt off between them, it all makes sense now

c!Tommy wants answers to his questions. c!Wilbur is unwilling to give them to him. That is, until c!Tommy resorted to violence just as he had seen was effective all throughout his childhood midst war and more prominently in his exile

“I don’t know why I did that… I didn’t use to be this angry” Frightened of abandonment because he could see the fragments of a broken man, his brother, who had been held together with a single bandage since his revival slowly start falling out of place.

And all c!Tommy wanted was an answer to his questions.

But Tommy’s only ever been antagonised for them.