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I've been thinking about how rather than a butler sent by Bhaal, what if Scleritas is the physical/hallucinatory manifestation of the 'Dark Urge' itself. He's our roommate in our brain. Like we named our urge and gave it a top hat. He communicates to me his needs like "hey master, my love language is acts of service and you haven't murdered anyone lately for me and I've been feeling disconnected from you"

I bet when we got tadpoled it was Scleritas that was squaring up with the worm to keep us from being completely taken over before we got close to the prism.

#bg3

deep-dark-fears

Mirror mirror, on the wall. A fear submitted by Frederick to Deep Dark Fears - thanks! You can find original artwork in my Deep Dark Fears shop!

dove-hearts

When you play as Durge, you learn that Orin tadpoled you. Which I find so interesting because Orin, as a bhaalspawn who grew up in the temple, definitely knows the ordained fate of all bhaalspawn to eventually kill one another (so sayeth the wise Alaundo). The poor bhaalspawn souls and whatever echo left of them there is has to return to Bhaal and his plane. But in tadpoling us, she subverts the one very thing our dear father Bhaal compels us to do, murder.

Withers tells us that ceremorphosis and being tadpoled basically takes our souls out of circulation, and that the gods can't use it anymore. Bhaal, can't use you anymore. Who knows if Orin would even know that, but I want to say it feels like a mercy, especially since I play from a resist/unwilling Durge perspective.

She had prepared her whole life to be of service to Bhaal, her grandfather always whispering her claims to her destiny. But you arrived, a newcomer. You had only recently begun to hear the voice of Bhaal in your adolescence, only recently acquired your first kills, and yet you were already the favorite. And you didn't even want to be. And maybe Orin was bitter and angry, dreaming of the eloquence in which she would orchestrate your murder. But perhaps all the same, a sigh escaped her lips when Bhaal named you his Chosen. That through the cracks of Bhaal's and Sarevok's hold on Orin, we formed a bond. She knows the flicker of a sick smile on your face, blessed by Bhaal's ecstasy after a kill. She knows what follows is your frown of disgust, then a hollow mask of resignation. And on the night we infiltrated Moonrise Towers, after we placed the crown atop the brain, she holds her knife steady. She is always precise, but tonight it will not be deadly. A little hole, big enough for the worm. She knows that her soul was tainted long before her birth. But you may yet have a chance.

dove-hearts

I've been thinking about Cazador's ritual and 7,000 spawn, because theres no way someone like Gortash wouldn't know or take a great interest in something like that. He keeps intel on all the other patriars and nobles, and surely he knows Cazador is a vampire since it doesn't seem to be too tight-lipped of a secret in some circles, considering Cazador has mortal fanboy servants vying to be turned

I really like this idea from this reddit post:

We know why they captured Shadowheart on the nautiloid, we pick up Gale and Lae'zel on the way to Yartar since they literally live right there, and we know Wyll and Karlach hop on when the nautiloid teleports to the hells. But Astarion's always in Baldur's Gate though so his abduction doesn't make sense unless he was placed on the nautiloid before going to intercept the artefact.

I haven't been able to find something in the game that acknowledges this link but I really think Astarion's presence on the nautiloid itself is good evidence that it was a strat by Gortash as a means to disrupt Cazador's ritual. Whether it was Astarion specifically they chose or he just happened to be the first spawn they found, we prolly have Gortash to thank.

dove-hearts

headcanon: when its bathing time, everyone asks Karlach to take a quick dip in the river to warm it up for them

dove-hearts

playing wyll origins rn, good to know karlach

dove-hearts

Some Selunite jewelry I picked up around act 2.

this is the first time I found the Brooch, it made me realize that the room next to Ketheric's was Isobels 😭. (i reverse pickpocketed Isobel to give her the brooch and her mom's letters, i like to think she would appreciate it)

dove-hearts

Y'all ever just have so many ideas for one oc that's it's becoming too much and too conflicting so next thing you know you make them commit mitosis and now there's TWO characters so you can split all your feelings and ideas between them.

And then the process repeats itself and now you have THREE or FOUR oh no

aquuaryo

"Earthshaker, stormbringer, father of horses. Hail Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God." 🌊

princess-bel

So I was rereading Harry Potter, when I came across this and thought- what if instead of Cedric Diggory, Cassius Warrington had been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?

Imagine Dumbledore calling out the name of the Hogwarts champion and it isn’t a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw, or even a Hufflepuff, but it’s a Slytherin. A student from a House most people hate.

Imagine Cassius Warrington getting up, and three out of four Houses are booing at him and shouting things like “NO!” or, “We can’t have a Slytherin champion!” or demanding a retry. But he’s a Slytherin- he’s been dealing with this shit since he got sorted, so he keeps his head high and joins the other champions.

Imagine Harry trying to catch Warrington alone because he doesn’t really want to associate with Slytherins (plus Malfoy has this tendency of being around the guy ALL THE TIME since he got chosen), but at the same time he’s also fair enough not to want him to walk into the first task unprepared.

Imagine Warrington walking over to Harry a few months later, and Ron and Hermione both jump into a protective stance, wands out, but instead of attacking Harry he just tells him to stick the egg underwater. (Because Slytherins don’t forget those who helped them out).

Imagine Warrington and Harry helping each other out in the labyrinth.

Imagine Harry being devastated when Peter kills Warrington- because Voldemort doesn’t care what house they’re form, a spare is a spare.

Imagine the uproar that causes among the Slytherins, because some of their parents really are Death Eaters and they know what really happened.

Imagine Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts and shouting “This is for Cassius!”

aplatonicjacuzzi

Imagine Harry returning with Warrington’s body, and the crowd realizes what’s happened, but Warrington’s parents don’t show up. There’s no one to mourn him, to cradle him in their arms and cry for their son. The Slytherins know why. His parents were Death Eaters, too.

Imagine Slytherins reaching out, asking for help from classmates from other houses. They’re terrified, truly terrified because the being their parents claimed would never hurt them because they’re pureblood, they realize that he does not care.

Imagine Slytherins in the 5th book sneaking off to join Dumbledore’s Army, to learn more about who Voldemort is without their parents acting as a filter.

Imagine the shock when they’re told what he’s really done.

Imagine that a few talented Slytherins went with Harry and the others into the Ministry of Magic. The others are a bit wary but they prove themselves as friends.

Imagine them being confronted by Lucius Malfoy in the the Hall of Prophecy, and when the Death Eaters descend, they know that any one of them could be their parents.

Imagine the shocked gasp of a Death Eater as they realize their own child, a pureblood, is standing defiantly with Harry Potter. They choke back a cry. They can’t let their child know that they were about to duel to the death.

Imagine a DA Slytherin facing off against their own Death Eater parent. That they make the decision to let their child defeat them, because in that moment, they realize that they love their child more than they fear Voldemort. They go down, mask unveiled, and the Slytherin kid has to be dragged from the fight before he gets killed.

Imagine Book 6 Slytherins getting more friendly and cooperative with the other houses. Two years of Voldemort terrorizing the muggle and Wizarding world, two years where their parents just up and leave some days, cringing from the pain in their arm, two years after the death of the first Slytherin pureblood, Cassius Warrington, killed by Voldemort’s right-hand man, and they’re slowly hitting the breaking point.

Imagine Slytherin kids keeping tabs on their parents, sending the information to Harry, who shares it with the Order of the Phoenix, and hoping that their parents won’t be killed.

Imagine Book 7 Slytherins low-key rebelling against the new oppressive Hogwarts staff.

Imagine the final siege on Hogwarts, where Slytherins stand proudly by their fellow houses, knowing full-well they could be fighting their own parents. Some Slytherins know their parents were in the fighting. They hope to find them first and sneak them away. Their fellow students understand. Professor McGonagall allows 7th Year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, to duel a death eater in her stead; her father is under that veil. She knows it.

Imagine the aftermath of the battle; every house suffered loses. Slytherin students crying over the deaths of friends they made in every house.

Imagine a Cassius Warrington statue made in his honor, the first Slytherin to fight and die nobly with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, in the face of ultimate evil. He was a true Slytherin, and it’s in his name that Slytherin children and their families have cut all ties with the Death Eaters, denounced Voldemort, and are finally living in peace.

cinematicnomad

#i do enjoy cedric #but this would have been immensely wonderful in many ways (via batty4u)

prismatic-bell

Imagine a story in which Harry wasn’t in love with his fellow champion’s girlfriend, but after her boyfriend’s death just hugs her so long, so hard, and says “he wanted to win for you. You should know–you should know he won, he did it for you” and gives her the best hug and shoulder he knows how to be because her parents aren’t there either and she must know why.

Imagine Harry staring over her head at everyone else until Hermione steps up–it doesn’t take long, but it takes long enough that when she does all eyes are on her as a source of motion–and says “we’re never going to forget this. They’re not going to get away with it” and the girlfriend just latches onto Hermione and everyone is in wands-out stance convinced she’s about to attack the shit out of Hermione, and then the girlfriend stares into her eyes and says “do you promise me” and Hermione just gives her this super-firm nod and says “I promise” and the girlfriend just collapses on her, sobbing.

Imagine Dumbledore trying to give some flowery speech about inter-wizard solidarity while glossing over why, because Slytherins have always been a touchy subject, and Ron gets to his feet and says “Professor, I need to say something important” and Dumbledore is so surprised he just cedes the floor, and Ron–after that awkward moment when he realizes everyone is staring at him–says he didn’t know Warrington particularly, but he knows how Warrington and Harry played. That each was always cheering on the other. Both wanted to win, but neither was willing to undercut the other by underhanded means. He finishes up saying “I think–I think it’s important everyone should know he died being what a champion should be. Because he could have abandoned Harry and instead he stood up with him to play the game the honest way, and he died for it. And–and Slytherin House should be proud, and we should all be proud, because Warrington was a good bloke.” He sits back down all flustered because he didn’t actually stand up meaning to make a speech. And then Pansy Parkinson stands up before Dumbledore can take back control of the room and says “I want to tell Weasley thank you.” And all of Slytherin House raises a glass–to Warrington, to Weasley, to Potter–and the other houses follow suit. Many years later, Wizarding scholars will say that was the moment Voldemort truly lost.

Imagine later that summer. Harry gets several owls on his birthday, all unsigned. The birds are plump and pretentious and well-cared-for. He will never know which Slytherins sent him their treasures: parchments with hexes developed by the Death Eaters; a strange locket that will only open if he whispers a special spell but that always shows him the picture he most needs to see; a page torn from a potions book that, brewed properly, will allow him extra time to summon a Patronus by giving him a few crucial seconds not just of happiness but of bliss. It doesn’t matter. Harry knows these gifts not as birthday gifts but for what they really are, and he treasures the locket and copies out the potion to send to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, and when first summoned by the Order of the Phoenix he marches straight up to Dumbledore with the hexes and says “I can’t tell you where I got these, Professor. But they’re in use by the Death Eaters and I think you should have them.” Months later, Sirius will recognize the spell Bellatrix shoots at him, and will dive out of the way just in the nick of time.

The final battle. Everyone is there. Sirius somehow ends up herding a group of Slytherins. They all stare at him and he at them, across a centuries-old divide Voldemort has only succeeded in deepening. Then he remembers the hexes. Harry’s locket, now tucked under Sirius’ shirt because Harry’s friends are with him in this battle but most of Sirius’ are dead. The moment that happiness potion saved Remus’ life, his very soul. Snape’s final words to Harry, finally seen not as mockery but real true advice. What Harry said Voldemort said–his first words in his new form. They are kids, and they are sharing the same kind of hurt he once wouldn’t admit to, watching his mother burn his name off the family tree. “When we go in there, it’s going to be hell,” he tells the Slytherins. “Some of you are probably going to die. I might go down too, and if I do I want your best curser in the front. But I want you all to remember one thing. There are no spares.” Later retellings of the battle never fail to mention the moment a group of angry, screaming teens burst into the Great Hall, wearing their green and silver as the badge of honor it should be, shouting NO SPARES, NO SPARES at the tops of their voices in between hexes and curses and the occasional physical punch. When Hermione is present, she always interrupts the storyteller to be sure everyone knows about the moment Blaise Zabini shoved her to the floor, dropped on top of her, fired off three curses in rapid succession and said “stay alive, Granger, we need you” before jumping back to his feet and vanishing into the melee–how, for all anyone knows, those may have been his last words, and she will not let his sacrifice go unnoted.

The aftermath. Malfoy holds out a hand to Sirius, badly injured on the floor. Sirius asks how Malfoy is willing to trust him. Malfoy nods at his chest. “You’ve got my godfather’s locket,” he says, and when Sirius and Harry finally speak after the battle Harry gives his full agreement to the very first thing out of Sirius’ mouth. They give the locket to Malfoy. Sirius grits his teeth and closes his eyes and opens them and says “He probably saved my life, giving Harry that.” He doesn’t say thank you. Malfoy hears it anyway.

The school reopens under a single banner: the four Houses united. The House rivalry is reduced to just that–a competition in fun–with those deep divides slowly healing to scars, and eventually away to nothing at all.

Imagine it.

When we stand, we stand united as one

blueboxbellethethird-deactivate

And then there would be no hope for any uprising of evil, no users of the dark arts would dare to attack. There would be no neglected Slytherins turning to a darker cause. The unity Cassius Warrington’s death caused would come to save the world, time and time again, as would-be-Voldemorts find no followers. No children will ever have to fight their parents, or family. There would always be peace.

peaceheather

oh christ somebody added to it and now i’m a soggy emotional wreck

parseltonquinq

I’m crying because this is what slytherins should have been and truly are

madoneworld

This is beautifully written and I wish it was in the books xx

sprout2012

This is such a fantastic read. A Slytherin triwizard champion sounds awesome.

bait1598-blog

Best Harry Potter post

secretlycrazyhummingbird

I’m crying of hope and happiness

randomslasher

This. This post here is why I don’t bother with the books anymore. This is a better, more fulfilling outcome than the books could ever be (haven’t read the last one yet, probably now never will).

ragingrapidz

The 7th book ends as Draco, Harry, and all of the other living 7th years are standing at their graduation, listening to Nevil (who was elected to give an end of year speech) thank every one and end his speech by saying “and remember, there are no spares.” Hats fly up and some sobs are heard throughout the crowd. In the midst of it all, Harry and Draco bump into each other one last time and smile. They talk about their future aspirations and jokingly, Malfoy smiles and says “Scared, Potter?” And the book ends with a smile from Harry and the words “You wish.” There is no 8th book, no random tweets, but an open ending. A happy one.