I'll recommend Mysterious Lotus Casebook as another good cdrama with a secondary villain with red eyeshadow that I'd risk it all for.
The show is also about a protagonist who was presumed dead and then returns with his appearance altered (although they use the same actor for his before and after situation and you have to use your imagination), and he is trying to discover ten years later what happened to his sworn brother's remains from the time of their defeat; all while he and his travelling companion (one of the 2-3 big ships of the series) solve monster of the week style mysteries.
Jiao Liqiao has a psychosexual obsession with who I'll call the secondary antagonist (with her being the tertiary antagonist despite being the secondary villain). The running gag with the fandom is if she knew gay men existed that she could've adjusted her plans and would have succeeded in her goals, but even while trying to force him to acknowledge her (incredible) beauty and (flawed, but not insignificant) strategic prowess, she does come to the conclusion that there's no reason that she shouldn't be emperor, with him as her wife, and also later teases the protagonist that he can also be her wife (/consort).
And despite how this is done to build her as a villain, I also think (from my western perspective) that her choice to use feminine language for her prospective ... "lovers" (?) is very wlw of her.
While she is (perhaps) less sympathetic than Qin Banruo (or any villain in Nirvana in Fire, since this can be very comedic and exaggerated in its fantasy in comparison to how grounded NiF can feel), she's still a very fun character that made me want to root for her on many occasions despite being at odds with the protagonists.
what's your favorite shoreline (including rivers, lakes, oceans)? what's your favorite dessert? what's your favorite revenge story? what's your favorite sea creature?
No shoreline I can think of because I haven't been to many, and the Atlantic ocean looks like gray sludge.
Favorite dessert is so hard to pick!😭But I'm always up for some basic vanilla birthday cake.
Favorite revenge story...honestly none I can think of offhand because most revenge stories aren't done very well? Maybe Astarion's since him getting revenge doesn't magically fix all of his problems.
Favorite sea creature is probably the blue whale because they're so big that I can't even process how big they are.
da:o's horror is so special to me. even The Dread felt in all that remains in da2 isn't quite the same. at least in retrospect. it's hard to remember my first experience as vividly.
do you or does mavis have any lasting impression of Something Wicked from da:o? the quest with the half-blind templar, Ser Otto and the one elf who survived the fires, labelled only as "Deranged Beggar"
dao's horror is the BEST, i really miss the body horror and how the game handled the blight. all that remains is horrifying to be sure but it's such a personal and tragic turning point for hawke, it doesn't have the same punch as the horror in dao. dragon age games have been getting less and less mature, i've noticed. in its script and settings and graphics. veilguard simply did not feel like it was Rated M For Mature, but maybe that's just me...
and to be honest, i don't remember much about this quest... if i'm being honest, i think i've only played through it once! it's been a hot minute since i've played dao, i think i'm past due for a replay 🥲
this is a piece for the lovely @omgkalyppso, go show them some support!
pairing: dimitri x neutral reader
word count: 1048
warnings: none!
Though it hadn’t been dark when you had first sat on the bed, you realized with a start that it was now. You’d been sitting on your bed for hours, it seemed, staring blankly at a wall as you tried to find the energy to get up and do something. But you had few responsibilities today, and you and Dimitri typically took your dinner in your chambers anyway. What harm could it do?
Snow had started falling in the early morning, and it was now piled high on your balcony, the top layer likely coated in a thin sheet of ice. You weren’t cold, per se - the fire in the hearth prevented that - but the persistent chill of Fhirdiad winter had long since seeped into your bones, hardening itself in your war-worked joints. It seemed the chill had invaded the edges of your mind now as well, clouding your thoughts with an ever-present exhaustion.
You heard the door to the drawing room open, looking up to see Dimitri standing there, removing his shoes with the shoehorn you kept just outside your chambers. You didn’t realize you’d forgotten to close the door when you stepped in hours before, but you supposed it didn’t matter now.
Dimitri looked up towards you, eyebrows furrowing when he realized you were sitting on the bed, still in your day clothes and likely looking somewhat dazed. You tried to smile at him, but felt it fall after a moment.
“Beloved? Are you okay?” Dimitri’s voice was soft as he walked toward you, sitting on the bed next to you.
You shrugged, not meeting his eyes and instead staring down at the bedspread. “Just tired, I think.” It was only somewhat a lie. You did feel tired, that much was true, but not necessarily in the traditional sense. It was more like your conscience and responsibilities as the King’s partner were weighing more heavily on you than they usually did, sapping at your patience and strength even despite the lack of physical exertion required.
Dimitri opened his arms to you, and you fell into them, wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his around you. You fell against him, broad chest and strong arms enveloping you in comfort. You buried your face in his shoulder, and he tightened his grip on you gently, holding you close. You felt yourself smile slightly, proud of the progress you’ve made together, proud of the way Dimitri no longer fears his strength and has enough of a handle on it to do this for you.
“It’s more than that, isn’t it?” His words were gentle, curious but not prying. It was an open invitation, a lifeline of sorts. Gratitude filled you, thankful that he understood approximately what was wrong even despite your inability to voice it aloud.
“Yes,” you admitted.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” you said, shaking your head. You heard a soft chuckle, and you had no doubt it was because your face was still pressed into his shoulder.
You lapsed into silence for a while, Dimitri rubbing your back gently as you basked in his warmth, feeling a little bit of the ice at the edges of your consciousness melting away. It had been a while since you were able to do this, sit together without a purpose other than to simply exist together. It was nice. It was what you needed, even if you hadn’t known it before now.
“You’re doing so well,” Dimitri whispered out of nowhere. “So perfect for me, for the country. I never would have made it this far without your support. You’re so strong, Beloved.”
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, and you burrowed further into his warmth, making yourself as small as possible. Dimitri just hugged you closer, surrounding you yet again in his comfort. You had no doubt he knew you were smiling, and you were sure he was smiling in return.
“You’re so wonderful,” he whispered. “So smart, so powerful. The way you’re able to balance everything is awe-inspiring. I love you so much. So, so much.”
“I love you too,” you murmured.
Dimitri leaned down to kiss your forehead before resting his cheek on the top of your head. “I’m always here for you, darling. Always. No matter what.”
“I know,” you replied. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, and the earnestness in his voice made you smile despite yourself. “I want to be here for you. Every moment of every day, for the rest of our lives.”
You hummed, snuggling ever closer to him, ever so grateful for the comfort he provided you just by being there. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“Me too,” Dimitri said.
“You don’t have anything else to do, do you?” you asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“I don’t,” Dimitri said. “Even if I did, you’re more important. You’ll always be more important.”
“I hope there are some exceptions to that rule,” you said.
“None,” he replied. You would have laughed if his tone wasn’t so serious. “You will always come first, Beloved. No matter what. The world can wait.”
You felt yourself flush again, but a broad smile was splitting your face now. You pulled away so you could look at him, Dimitri lifting his head from where it was pressed against yours.
“I love you,” you said, appreciating the way the corners of his eye crinkled with his smile.
“I love you too,” he said. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your lips, pulling away with that same beautiful smile. “Always and forever.”
You stayed in his arms for a while longer, falling back into him. He hummed a lullaby, the one he had taught you in the early years of your relationship. You smiled at the memory, teaching him the words to the tune your best friend had taught you decades before, worlds and iterations of yourself colliding in the best way you could have hoped for.
You felt your exhaustion begin to tug at your eyelids, felt yourself relaxing even more in his hold.
“Sleep, Beloved,” he murmured as he noticed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Was tagged by @omgkalyppso to take This uQuiz as an OC to assign them a patron sainthood.
These are all my dnd OCs
Bubbles
patron saint of relics
patron saint of remembering. patron saint of holding something close. patron saint of holding on for too long. for a saint, a relic is often a part of the body, kept for some physical memento of their holiness. they are all in your hands, now: does it feel like remembrance? does it feel sanctified? are the dust and blood as precious as they're supposed to be?
Zeke Zaleski
patron saint of houses
but not of homes. only the shells of what keeps us enclosed. houses can be decorated or well-built or crumbling or haunted but only a home can truly be warm; you are the patron saint of that lack.
Membrillo Frambuesa
patron saint of obsession
patron saint of devotion. of dedication. of passion. of everything you won't call it, in the spaces between. patron saint of holding tight to it until it bleeds. patron saint of pushing it too far. patron saint of staring into the sun until you're blind. patron saint of gazing onto beauty until you can't see anything anymore.
I'll tag @bosspigeon @doctorsoup @dangerous-disposition @thequeervampiric and anybody else!
🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love
🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them
🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it
Thank you so much my love! ;v; ❤️
Answering asks from this fic ask game here!
🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis
Can do!: 🤠💀🎩👻💍
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love
I'm going to use this opportunity to recommend a couple of fanfics and authors!
I've recently been reading the Sandrock work of author @zyikic and it is fabulous. Zyikic has written some gorgeous work for other fandoms as well, including Horizon: Zero Dawn, but my recommendation goes to her My Time At Sandrock soulmate fic, Blue Skies.
Author and artist @mancatrex has written (and illustrated) one of the most brutal, extensive "what if" AUs I think I've ever read: HADES, a Horizon: Zero Dawn AU that details what might have happened had HADES not been stopped in the first game.
🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
I'm going to be super obvious here and call out @poetikat who has been with me through fanfic hell for more years than I care to count at this point. She's an extremely talented writer, smart as all hell, a lot kinder than she gives herself credit for, and the absolute best "the world is rough, come sit down and rest your head for a while" conversationalist a girl could ask for. We met through fanfic Reddit writing for the Witcher and Dragon Age fandoms and she's been stuck with me ever since. I couldn't get through a day without her excellent takes and delicious salt. 💜
🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them
I'll never say no to more pictures of my girls! Peep (left), Pru (right).
🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it
Answered this one here... unfortunately I can't quite choose a favourite currently! The curse of having too many good things!
8.Durge is clearly a skilled master of their craft, but would they ever consider taking an apprentice? Perhaps they already did? Or would they absolutely detest those who yet lack skill and prefer they attain it on their own?
11.Bhaal is widely hated or feared, as are Bhaalspawn, but what does Durge think about that notion? Would they hunt down anyone who dares speak I'll of their father, or could they not care any less? Do they perhaps revel in that fear and hatred?
12.If Durge knew they'd lose all their memories in the future, what would they think? Would they weep for their treasured moments or perhaps even feel delighted about forgetting a dreaded past?
16.In general, how does your Durge cope with stress, life, and the things that happened? How did it affect them? Are there any lasting effects from an outburst once?
20.Bhaal was a netherese arcanist. Does Durge, considering they're made from Bhaals flesh, consider themselves to be netherese? Have they ever thought about these things or do they simply not care?
8. I don't think Moss (he who will eventually be called Moss) ever really thought about it, mostly because in his eyes, nobody could do it the way he does. The only "apprentice" he could even consider taking would be another Perfect Bhaalspawn, crafted from Bhaal's flesh--and that's more likely to be a Rival than a potential apprentice. the other Bhaalspawn he knows? Orin? Clearly she is good enough for jazz, but she's not him. I feel like there's a level of well-earned arrogance when you have a job like the Durge.
11. I think Moss would have been largely indifferent to that hatred. The way i imagine him Pre-Lobotomy, he's very... Straightforward. Brutally efficient, but also kind of numb and stoic when he is not basking in the joy and ecstasy of Actively Murdering. Bhaal doesn't care whether or not he's popular. Bhaal doesn't care about being liked. Bhaal cares about one thing and one thing alone, and that is murder. To his Chosen? Those that hate him and those that love him are all the same at the end of the day--Warm Bodies.
12. I think if he knew he'd fight like hell to stop it from happening in the first place. Take Orin out before she could get him first. He'd kill the both of them before he let it happen willingly.
16. Um. Murder. Murder is how he coped with stress. More along the lines of study, though? Moss is curious, before and after the lobotomy. He likes to know things. One of those things he likes to know is the way bodies work. What makes them tick. Might take some time to himself (and Sceleritas, though often he'd prefer to do things Alone than have that creature Nattering In His Ear) to select a victim and take them apart slowly, study the muscles and the sinew and the way the blood flows and congeals. Activate raw nerves with the scrape or brush of a blade to see what reacts. Watching every reaction with those big black eyes and taking it all in. And then afterwards? When the victim finally succumbed to their wounds? He would use his magic to expedite the process of decay and watch that too.
20. Before, I think Moss considered himself first and foremost as Coming From Bhaal. What Bhaal was means very little to Moss. What Bhaal is is all that really matters. Bhaal is the beginning and the end, after all.
