a taz headcanon I've really grown fond of is that during the preparation for the lich ceremony, Barry was given multiple Best Days Ever just like Lup was, but one of Barry's first actually came from Magnus.
and not even because Magnus knew exactly what Barry and Lup planning, but because Magnus canonically pays a lot of attention to when his crewmates are spending a lot of time in their room or their lab, working themself to the bone on some top-secret project. and when he notices this, he always tries to plan something to cheer them up!
I think that Magnus would've taken some time to get Barry to relax, and get outside away from evil necromantic tomes to have some fun, and that in doing so, he inadvertently gave Barry exactly what he needed to make his plan work :)
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writers who are like "we have to subvert all expectations or else the story is too predictable and not marketable or whatever" are extra silly to me because like. have you SEEN how excited fandoms get when a popular fan theory is confirmed canon?
i'm currently thinking about the adventure zone fandom with the "taako has a twin" theory. i wasn't super active in the fandom at the time (iirc i started listening around suffering game or maybe 11th hour and had just recently caught up) but i remember when it was just a popular fan theory alongside "angus is a dragon" type theories. and just how excited everyone got when not only was the theory confirmed, but she got officially introduced and was an amazing character from the get-go
this has happened with other fandoms i've been in, too. like steven universe with the "garnet is a fusion" and "rose quartz is pink diamond" theories, or the owl house with the "emperor belos is phillip wittebane" and "hunter is a grimwalker" theories
fans love when their hard work analyzing stuff pays off
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Barry takes his glasses off and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’s been staring at his computer for far too long today. The computer in question sits on the couch next to him, screen obscenely bright in his dim living room.
He’d been ignoring the emails that infiltrated his inbox with growing frequency and urgency, all of them riddled with subject lines like “Payment Plans for Upcoming Semester,” and “Payment Due Soon,” and “Seriously, You Owe Us Tens of Thousands of Dollars and We Aim to Collect.” You know, normal stuff.
He’d always figured that actually doing the coursework would be the hardest part of grad school, not figuring out how to fund it without owing his soul and first-born child to the federal government. But the fact of the matter is that he’s reached a dead end; most of everything his mom left him was used to pay off his undergrad loans some years back. His university has mentioned scholarships and work study but he’s convinced the scholarships are a myth and also his university declined to mention that the work study they offer doesn’t actually pay him in money, rather they just pay for three course credits. Don’t get him wrong, that’s better than nothing but that doesn’t help pay his rent or buy textbooks.
Once again he mourns the fact that the only applied arcane theory program that accepted him just had to be a private university many states away.
He returns his glasses to his face and pulls his laptop closer to him. He’s about three modules into his ten-module long loan counseling. It’s basically an online program that explains in excruciating detail just how deeply the federal government has his future in their pocket. “Oh, hey Barry! If you Ever fall behind on your loans, we can garnish your wages that already probably won’t be able to pay for a studio apartment in Neverwinter and also you’ll be paying these back for anywhere from ten to twenty five years! You also cannot declare bankruptcy because you live in hell!! Only way to get off the hook for these is if your school shuts down before you get your degree or you die! Now sign on the dotted line after you hyperventilate a little when you look at just how much money you’re going to be responsible for!”
The whole process makes his stomach hurt; there’s no good reason education should be this much. He’s going to be saddled with loans worth more than any yearly salary he could hope to have and now he’s gotta pay them back or die.
Wait.
He rereads the loan forgiveness terms. “If your loan servicer receives acceptable documentation of your death, your federal student loans will be discharged,” he reads to himself.
He's got it.
He lets loose a laugh that borders on maniacal and roots around for his phone. It rings once before someone picks up on the other end.
“Lup!” He whoops.
“Bear? What’s up? You sound extremely excitable right now.”
“Okay, remember when you wanted to get married for tax benefits?”
“I do! I also remember you turned me down because you didn’t want to our marriage to be for convenience.”
Barry laughs to himself. “Yeah, I still stand by that.”
“You sap,” she sighs fondly.
“Well, I think I found a way to scam the federal government through a loophole.”
“Gods I love when you talk dirty to me!”
“We can talk more when you come home but I can almost promise you neither of us are paying off our student loans.”
“Barry, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about and I can’t wait to hear your devious plan. Love you!”
“Love you.” He clicks end on the call and looks around for his theoretical necromancy notes from a few semesters ago.
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I really like this one, it's a classic
@taznovembercelebration Remember or forget
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Dirt crunches underfoot as Lup and her new friend Barry walk along in silence. It's strange, she thinks, how easy it is with him. Her whole life she's fended for herself, never allowing anyone too near, but then she ran into this fumbling, mediocre fighter. He's a little gruff and a bit of a jackass sometimes, but she can't find it in herself to ditch him. He asked her to go on some quest that he said "might be super dangerous," and she didn't even hesitate to say yes. The fact that he's handsome might have swayed her a little bit.
Conversation with him was like they'd known each other forever, falling into a comfortable rhythm. They talked about their pasts, not that either of them had much to talk about, they talked about magic, about their travels. Barry even confessed to her that he had no idea what this quest was actually for, he was just following instructions he never remembered leaving for himself. Lup felt compelled to be vulnerable with him, despite rejecting vulnerability whenever it tries to rear it's terrifying head. She told him about her aunt, being on the run, surviving by herself, she even told him about how it always felt like she was forgetting something. As if she'd left her oven on before going out, but a hundred times more intense. She was surprised to find out he had a similar feeling.
Then the conversation settled some, and now they walk in a comfortable silence. She feels an urge to reach out and take his hand, and she kicks herself mentally. That's too much. What would they do then? Swing their arms like a couple on their honeymoon? Weird. Gross. Get it together.
They come to the mouth of a cave, and Barry checks his map. "Alright, uh, I think- I think this is it."
"And you have no idea what we're looking for in here?"
"Well, it's- the instructions said that it's some sort of treasure keep, hoard, thing, and it might have... whatever I'm looking for. And I'm supposed to know it when I see it?"
"Great, so we run in head first? No plan?"
"The plan is don't die."
"Love it. This'll be easy."
It is not, in fact, easy. They manage to get through the first few sets of bandits guarding what must be a treasure trove hidden deep in the cave, but round three is proving itself to be difficult. Lup's running low on spells, Barry's running out of stamina, and they're both pretty beat up. They've taken out one bandit, so now they're each one-on-one with another. Lup's got the ranger, and Barry's got the fighter.
The ranger, evidently, has a bit of multiclassing up their sleeve when he turns invisible. Lup scans the room, hoping to spot a shadow or a ripple against the wall, anything to give away their position. Unfortunately, what she spots is an arrow, sailing straight towards Barry. She doesn't have time to scream before it lodges itself in his back, right through to where she knows his heart is.
He collapses unceremoniously, and Lup just knows he's dead. Her heart races, and she wills away tears that prick at her eyes. She's upset that he died, of course, but she still has a fight to win. And she's not even, like, that sad. It sucks that he died, it's upsetting, but it's fine.
The fighter bandit praises the ranger, and then starts to advance on Lup. She brandishes her wand, and tries to brace herself as the fighter gears up to charge her, when the cavern fills with red light. A spectre all in red floats above Barry's body. Lup grins, and starts laughing, almost manically. The two bandits turn to see what she's looking at and get struck down instantly by two streaks of red lightning.
"What the fuck!" Lup says, still laughing.
"Lup-" the spectre has Barry's voice- "holy shit, you- you're alive! You're here! With me! Where have you been?"
Lup brushes some tears off her cheeks and catches her breath. "Didn't I tell you my whole life story on the way up here? The fuck do you mean where have you been? "
"Right..." he says, sinking a little closer to the ground, mimicking his normal height. He seems pensive for a few moments, looking at her, then says, "Lup, I'm wicked sorry about this."
Her vision fills with red before she can even ask what he means.
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what if we were twin siblings and we were elves ( and we were definitely narrative foils to the other pair of twin elves in the story ) and we absolutely slayed on the runway but we were really a pair of liches, the oldest living things in this world, and we had given up our mortality in an ill-advised necromancy ritual in an attempt to bring our beloved little brother back from the dead? what if we had lived so long that our love for one another and our little brother, the emotions we used to keep us tethered to our humanity, were no longer strong enough to keep from losing ourselves entirely in the raw arcane energy, so we moved on to subsist off of the suffering of others, using more and more elaborate means to extract it from unsuspecting adventurers? what if we lost ourselves in that suffering too? what if we can’t remember what our brother’s face looks like or what the warmth of his embrace felt like? what if we’ve lived too long to let go of our empty, wretched existences? what then?
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