#I certainly wouldn't describe it as him being “found of pointing it out” (it's more of a thing jim does)

[zirconpetals]

Somebody make some kind of smart observation about their relationship or Spock's character arc based on this

[fairykazu]

is he a dog or a cat? with childe masterlist ++ cw: this is f!reader but can be read as gn, crushing && requited feelings.

the way he trailed behind you like a lost puppy during lunch; it almost made you feel pity for him. key word, almost. whatever he tried to pull during english today wasn't cool but you didn't mind it. but the way, he's acting behind you, he instantly regretted it.

but if you think about it, childe’s like a dog, fiercely loyal to the bone and willing to do anything to prove himself. he’s kind of stupid, not in a bad way of course. it’s just sometimes he acts without thinking, swinging his fists instead of using words as a weapon. other times he’s more akin to an orange cat with the way he acts, it’s like he turns off his brain whenever he hangs out with you. 

you remember when you two were playing a game of hide and seek, in your defense, he started it! he bet he could’ve found you within a minute. could he? yes, but that’s beside the point, he attacked your honor! you juked him by running to a fork, throwing a rock at a dead end and running in the opposite direction. when he reached the forked alleyway, he heard the rock in the other side, running at the speed of light. then he knocked his head against the dead end. but did you win? 

yes, that’s the most important part (an obvious lie).

…childe was fine after he hit his head of course, after you rushed towards him, helping him up. he sat on the cement floors as you circle around him with questions, checking if he was bleeding. “ajax, are you okay?” 

he was smiling like a cheeky dog, basking in the attention you gave him. if food wasn't something he'd consume, affection would definitely be his go-to. “of course, i am when you’re with me.” 

he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, punching him playfully in the arms, "okay, from that reaction, you seem to be in good shape to me."

he let out a gasp. he fixed up his attitude, immediately switching his personality from being cheeky to being solemn, tearful even. "oh, name! my forehead hurts so bad."

you tilted your head, well, it's better to play along with his antics than to ignore them. otherwise, he'd keep it up. "oh no." you dryly replied, "do you need a kiss for your boo-boo?"

childe looked up in your direction, breaking his character a bit. he was stuttering out, his freckled cheeks flustered, "really?" he cleared his throat. "i mean, ahem, i believe thats the best way for me to heal."

"really?"

it was clear that childe wouldn't believe that you would go with the kiss. but as always, he knew if he riled you up enough, bruise your ego to prove him wrong, it could happen.

maybe... well, he hopes. "...yepp!"

“if you say so, ajax.” 

he was flustered to the point his neck reddened, he didnt think it would be this easy. you leaned in close and he squeezed his eyes. but it wasn’t even a kiss, just a brief press against his skin but still he stumbled around his words, “thank you… that would surely, i mean, i know that confidently that would certainly– i mean, i know that would make me heal.” 

he’s trying to play it off as cool but internally, he knew he fumbled so bad. who says that? 

“uh-huh, c’mere, let me take you to the nurse.” 

“oh okay!” 

huh… well, he’s kind of a mix of those animals. but how do you describe that? would he be that one show, dog-cat or cat-dog?  youve seen him in a different light before but he rarely shows you what that side looks like. only once you’ve seen him as the fearful delinquent and never again.

“childe, why are you following me? don’t you have other friends?” you asked, turning your heel to stop abruptly, facing him. thankfully the road you took to go home doesn't have any crowds. otherwise, this situation could be taken in the worst way possible. childe rested his head on your shoulder, you could feel the ambience to dampen as you met his ocean eyes. 

he looked back at you, “well, name, your bodyguard is here to protect you.” 

dog. 

you rolled your eyes, “really, thats your excuse.” 

his gaze only stayed on you, “mhm, and as your bodyguard, you need to be safer around these parts.” 

“so you’re a cowboy now.” 

“no? well, i just want to say something.” 

okay, maybe a cat? 

“go on.” 

“you know in english where i acted… weird..” oh yeah, you remember now. if you recall, he was acting off. more flirty than normal, did you hate it? not exactly… but does he really need to know that? not right now. 

“there was this group of guys who were talking about you like you were an object as if you were just the girl of the week. so that’s why i was acting like we were dating. and don’t worry, i did use my words…” 

“that’s cute of you but you also fought them didn’t you?” 

“you called me cute?” 

“that’s what you focused on???” 

“that’s besides the point, you think im cuteeee.” 

“sure whatever you want.” 

he’s a dog that’s for sure. 

[ishaslife]

Love and Deepspace : Is Caleb Evil?

My brain is a mess. I just want to make it clear that everything I say here is my opinion and things I want/wish from the game along with theories and evidence based on previous knowledge of lore and personalities. I also want to add that I hope that the people reading this are going to have prior knowledge of the game, basic lore as well as what happens to caleb. So, spoilers for all of that.

This is just me barfing onto the internet because the trailer and Caleb is all I have been able to focus on for the past few days.

So, I have loved caleb ever since I played the main story nearly a year ago and I really really hoped that he would come back as a love interest and here we are! So, when we first meet Caleb, you know, he comes off as the "protective, trustworthy, older friend to lover" archetype. We have known caleb, as the MC, since we were kids. And clearly, as is in every childhood romance, I assume Caleb has always liked us. He seems very protective over us in the main story too he almost seems scared, like the way he says, "Who's going to protect you if not me?"

Caleb's trailer had me shook, and I mean that. To be quite honest, I did not like it at first. I was so overwhelmed I didn't even know how to process it. I made a whole blog post on his character trailer, please check that out to read further or later on:

Now, the second trailer, for the main story and new patch that is: has him behaving very... Yandere? Idk how to describe it. It's very strange (in a good way) but I think that's how it's meant to be, Caleb IS possessive, and I think even more so than Xavier.

But my point being: do I think Caleb will be evil? No, I don't. I don't think any of the love interests will ever be inherently evil, this is just my take of course. The devs seem to handle relationships in this game with maturity to have a love interest that's absolutely batshit crazy. No main character in this game has come across to me as black and white, they are all morally grey and that's so amazing. Also, they wouldn't introduce Caleb as the protective type to only make him something entirely different.

I think like all the other LIs, Caleb will have his own fatal flaw.

He was a sweet boy, the boy we grew up with and he had dreams of being a pilot and that was a dream he fulfilled but... I'm sure that when Ever found out that this is the path he has chosen in life, he was recruited into the Farspace Fleet to spy on the MC. And that is the moral conundrum here, he is stuck between having to choose. Of course, he wants the MC, he always has but he likely knows the dangers of being basically forced to work for Ever and what will happen if he chooses to quit, not only to himself but also to the MC, a risk that he doesn't wish to take. Ever is is really fucking powerful after all, they could kill him if he isn't useful enough. He's stuck here now, it's like how idealism shatters when you realise how corrupt the system really is.

He's extremely soft in the trailer too and my heart goes out to him really, he seems like he's always suffering or in pain, it's like he's reaching for the MC but he never can because of what he needs to do for Ever.

This isn't here for any reason in particular apart from how fucking soft he looks? His eyes... Omg, just look at how he yearns for her. Also, he seems to have thing for holding her wrist?

Caleb seems like he doesn't want to do this, he says in the trailer, "this nightmare will be over soon," and "I'll make things right" so it's cleary something that takes an emotional toll on him.

Now, I don't think if he will be evil but I certainly think that he's been portrayed as that because he's quite literally working for this world's umbrella corporation and I believe, his whole mean demeanour is a farce, because, well double agent and also the mind control theory I presented earlier. If Caleb is a villain in the Astarion sense, nature vs. nurture. Like how, astarion isn't really a villain, he can be MADE a villain like every other person because of things they have been through, I think Caleb has had to grow some thick skin to deal with shit he's been put through and that makes him come off as mean especially since his conundrum seems to be knowing that he can destroy MC and yet he still wants her, because he loves her. Ugh, my brain is spiraling.

I don't think it'll be a toxic in the slightest. I think yes, he is gonna be very possessive but not so much so that he conflicts MC's personality and nature, also the nature of the game itself. With a game like this, it's difficult to have a LI that's completely evil and black and white because, all their characters are very fleshed out and I don't know why they wouldn't make Caleb so. Caleb's battle also seems to be that he thinks he's decieving MC, that he isn't who she thinks he is and that difficult for him to cope with, like he's been lying to her all their lives and that hurts. He almost sounds angry at the MC in the trailer.

He seems as though he's trying to de-establish (idk if that's a word) the relationship he had with the MC in the past as a brotherly figure and instead establish one where she sees him romantically. Or, he's mad at himself but that is rubbing onto the MC for thinking he's a nice guy, reliable and always expecting him to be the best when he isn't. It's almost as if he's crumbling under the pressure of having to be the best for HER and for her seeing the best in him. I see a guy with deeply ingrained psychological issues, he seems to have a very low opinion of himself and thinks that MC's perception of him is based on a lie.

Not to mention that their reunion is gonna be extremely emotional and likely even explosive on the MC's part because, what the fuck? He just up and left, made us think we're dead and now he's... Well... Just different. There's the whole bite mark on his hand too so I assume the MC got into a huge cat fight with him but he calmed her down?

Either way, no matter what happens; I hope that they'll do his character justice and not ruin him, even if he is made a villain. I have trust enough in the devs to handle their characters with maturity and I can only hope the same with Caleb.

[lafaiette]

Based on this post by @wendynerdwrites: Solas treating everyone at the Lighthouse except Varric like complete morons, but becoming a puppy as soon as Lavellan shows up.

Spoilers for Veilguard!

Davrin was used to facing dangerous situations - the life of a Warden was not an easy one -, but no fight against darkspawn, no exploration of dark, damp roads could compare to the horror of sharing a place with the worst enemy of his people's lore.

Solas, the Dread Wolf, was... a cold man. No unnecessarily cruel like old Dalish legends described him, but certainly ruthless, ready to make sacrifices if it could help finally defeat the Evanuris.

There was a certain distance in his eyes and tone whenever he spoke with the new guests of his old base - that, and badly hidden rage, boiling just below the surface. He was haunted by the failed ritual, by Rook's intervention, by Varric's wound, by years of regrets.

Davrin's superiors had always insisted on a particular point: don't fight battles you can't win. Giant ogre making its way through a narrow tunnel? Run, or you will die under the rubble. Too many darkspawn surrounding you and your fellow Grey Wardens? Retreat, and plan a better strategy.

The Dread Wolf haunts your dreams, turning them into nightmares? Be respectful, da'len, do not enrage him further, and avoid him.

So Davrin did just that. He greeted Solas, but didn't dare ask him questions. He wasn't scared of speaking up in his presence, but he did so with an even tone, not really wanting to attract his attention.

Unfortunately, his being a Grey Warden was something Solas simply couldn't understand - or forgive? -, for the Dread Wolf once found him in the courtyard, taking care of Assan's feathers, and spoke to him without hesitation, without mercy.

"That is a beautiful creature."

Assan chirped happily - he was one of the few ones in the Lighthouse, Varric and Manfred included, who wasn't scared of Fen'Harel.

"Ah, thank you." Davrin nodded at him, then went back to brushing the griffon's feathers. "He's growing up so fast."

A moment of silence, then Solas spoke again, a thin veil of ice in his voice:

"I could not help but notice he fights with you."

"Well... Yes?" Davrin didn't turn back, increasing his focus on the least oily feathers, the ones that needed more care. "Grey Wardens and griffons fight together. We're supposed to build a bond."

"Why would you bring your beloved companion into battle?" Solas sounded furious, now. "Among the Blight and the darkspawn?"

"Because that's what Grey Wardens must do." Davrin did turn around this time, hoping his glare directed at Solas wouldn't condemn him to a week of nightmares. "It's not like Assan fights at my side for the whole time. He flies above the battlefield, and attacks only when I call him."

"Because he is still young. But he will join you once he is older, and ready, and your bond strong." Solas shook his head, distaste clear on his face. "And then he will risk getting blighted, poison in his veins."

"It's terrible, I know," Davrin agreed, for the thought of losing his friend in battle had kept him awake many nights in a row, "but it's a risk we must run if we want to fight the darkspawn."

"Did you ask Assan if he wants to run this risk?" Solas arched an eyebrow. "Or did you decide for him?"

"What-"

Solas walked away, uttering a "tsk", and Davrin was left there, open-mouthed, shock and pain making his head buzz.

Assan let out a sad squeak, bumping his beak against his cheek.

--------

"You are doing it wrong."

"O-Oh?"

Bellara turned around, the elven device she was tinkering with falling on the ground. Solas, standing under the doorframe, looked at it, then at her, and she shrinked under his cold, almost disappointed gaze.

"What... What I was doing wrong?"

Oh, she hated how thin her voice sounded, but she couldn't help it! He was one of her gods! The deity of lies, trickery, and rebellion, the creator of the Veil, the reason why a breach in the Fade had appeared in the sky ten years prior! He scared her!

"Everything." Solas narrowed his eyes, then walked away, heading to his original destination, leaving her there, fuming and confused, angry at him and herself, angry at the device and its secrets, angry at her mind for not being able to understand them.

She picked it up from the floor, but didn't tinker with it again, leaving it on the table, like a forgotten relic.

--------

Harding gently closed the door of Varric's room, so that he wouldn't wake. The wound was getting better, but he was still weak, frail. His fever had broken just the day before.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Solas walked out from the shadows just around the corner - seriously, wasn't a lighthouse supposed to be well-lit?

"How is he?" he asked, almost whispering, dark sorrow on his face.

Harding glared at him, torn between telling him to shove it and answering in a civil way.

In the end, her polite side won, prompted by the memories of their days in the Inquisition, when Solas would accompany the Inquisitor in all her trips and explorations.

He would often narrate beautiful stories at dinner, when the Inquisitor decided to stop at the main campsites where Harding was stationed. He was always kind with the Inquisition soldiers, and once he had complimented Harding's study of a map.

But he had hurt the Inquisitor, and now Varric, and she found forgiveness hard to find in her frightened, enraged heart.

"He's alive." She shook her head. "He's sleeping now, so come visit him later."

"And the wound?"

"It's healing, but I don't like the look of the skin around it. It's getting inflamed, I think." She sighed, making a mental list of all the plants in her room. "I might have something to help him, but I'll need to check and-"

"My magic may help."

Her rude side won over the polite one. Oh, how her mother would scold her if she knew.

"Your magic? I'm sorry, but your magic is what caused all this in the first place!"

She approached him, teeth gritted, fists clenched, and he didn't move, staring down at her with that cold pain that morphed his face into a pale, ancient expanse of regret.

"Your magic almost destroyed the world ten years ago! Your magic almost destroyed it now! Your magic maimed the Inquisitor-"

Something passed over his face - more pain and sorrow -, and she realized she had gone too far, for his next words were too controlled, too calm. He was about to explode just like she had.

"Enough, child of the Stone."

"How dare you!"

All the pain, fear, and shock Harding had packed away in her heart - like many jagged rocks she wanted pick and examine in peace in the quiet of the room - erupted from her. Her eyes burned.

"How dare you call me like that, after what my people lost!"

"Your people are not the only ones who lost everything."

"Well, at least we're not the ones trying to destroy this world to bring it all back!"

She stormed away, hoping her outburst hadn't caused Varric to awaken.

--------

"He's here!"

"What?"

Lucanis looked up from the pot of soup he was preparing for lunch, and lo and behold, the Dread Wolf was indeed there.

Spite respected him and feared him in equal measure. He was the only one who could speak with the demon in a real, coherent way, and make it listen.

Sometimes Lucanis envied him.

"May I help you?" he said, stirring the pot after adding more salt. "It won't be ready for one more hour, I think."

"Spirit, how are you feeling?"

"It's not a spirit." Lucanis spat out before Spite could answer. It was standing next to him, not slouching as usual, but standing tall, almost proud. "It's a demon."

"That's a matter of debate."

"A matter of- it's possessing me!"

"It does not wish to be with you just as much as you do not want it with you." Solas glared at him, before setting his eyes on Spite again. His expression changed, turning kinder, more patient.

"How are you feeling?"

"... Constricted."

Lucanis gawked at it.

"Oh, for... Constricted by what? I bring you everywhere!"

Solas ignored him. "Have you tried shaping the world around you? We are in the Fade here, after all."

"I have, but it doesn't listen! Not as long as I am..."

Spite growled and glared at Lucanis, who glared back, stirring his minestrone with more rage the recipe requested.

"I see. I promise I will try to find a way to help you. It might be difficult, due to your particular circumstances, but..."

"You want to help it?" Lucanis dropped the spoon into the pot, staring at the tall elf with disbelief. "Do you know what this fiend did to me while we were locked away in Renata's prison? What about helping me get rid of it?"

"It tortured you because it was tortured. It still is."

Solas' eyes looked cold even under the light coming from the fireplace. Lucanis realized he would probably never convince him, nor understand him.

"Bah!" He went back to his dish. "No wonder nobody here likes you, lupo."

Solas went away, quiet, his steps the lightest Lucanis had ever heard.

--------

"You remind me of an old friend."

Taash looked up from the axe they were polishing, hoping they had heard it wrong.

Solas was checking some supplies. They hadn't exchanged a single word when he had entered, and Taash was glad of it, because they really didn't know how to act around that guy. Plus, their mood wasn't exactly the best these days, after a hard defeat against a particularly stubborn dragon that had badly burned their leg.

But now, this.

"How old, exactly? Millennia old? Decade old?"

"Decade. Do you know the Bull's Chargers?"

"I heard of 'em. Mercenary group led by the Tal-Vashoth who joined the Inquisition, yeah?"

Solas nodded, still checking the contents of an armory chest.

"So... I remind you of that guy?"

"Sometimes, yes."

Taash blinked. And waited.

"Why? Just because we're both Tal-Vashoth?"

"No." Solas barely looked at them as he closed the chest. "He also deeply admired dragons."

"Oh. Sounds like a cool guy, then." Taash grinned, dipping the cloth into a pot of oil and starting to polish a new area of their axe. "I bet he'd have enjoyed fighting that dragon from the other day."

"Oh, yes. But unlike you, he would have definitely prevailed."

"Why, you little piece of shit!"

They rose, furious and embarrassed, cheeks on fire and axe ready to be used, but he had already left.

--------

"What is that supposed to be?"

Neve almost dropped her pencil.

"A map?" She narrowed her eyes at him. She had tracked him down in Minrathous, yes, but he had still escaped her, in a certain way. She hated that.

"Of course it is a map." Solas' tone was as icy as hers. He knew it was her fault Varric and Rook had found him. "But what are you drawing on it?"

"Possible places where the Evanuris may be hiding."

"Hiding?" He snarled, letting out a disgusted noise. "They are not hiding. They are preparing, setting the stage, gathering power-"

"One more reason to find them as soon as possible, then."

"-And those are not the places they would choose for such a purpose."

Neve felt her right eye twitch.

"Well, since you know them so well," Solas' face turned into a mask of pure outrage at that, "perhaps you could kindly share your opinion so that we may find them sooner."

"How am I supposed to know? Don't you think I would have already done something, had I known where they are?"

He scoffed at her meticulous drawings and walked away. She gritted her teeth, frustrated, then looked back at the map, feeling almost embarrassed.

She refused to erase her marks, though.

--------

Emmrich believed himself to be a patient man, but oh, every time the Dread Wolf was involved he could just feel his patience run thin.

"Manfred, could you please hand me that book? Thank you."

A groan, rattling of bones, and Emmrich smiled.

"Indeed, it is quite interesting. I will give it back to you as soon as I'm done with these notes."

He heard footsteps coming from the staircase, but he ignored them, too engrossed in his research. He heard Manfred prepare more tea, sure it was one of their friends come to visit, but then...

"This is wrong."

Startled, Emmric raised his eyes. Solas was looking at Manfred, watching him choose the right leaves.

"I assure you, Manfred's tea knows no equal. Everyone in the Mourn Watch loves it!"

Solas glared at him, jaw tight, and the very air around him seemed to quiver. Emmrich realized he had said the wrong thing, and slightly bowed his head.

"I apologize if my words offended you, Solas. Is there something I can help you with?"

"You are torturing this poor spirit."

Manfred groaned, shaking his head, and Solas scoffed, shocked by his words.

"This is not your place! You are not supposed to be bound to a corpse!"

"I would let Manfred make that decision."

"How could he do that? You already did it for him."

A pang of pain, like the sting of a thorn in his heart, then Emmrich took a deep breath.

"You are mistaken. This is what Manfred wants."

Solas couldn't hide his disgust, his contempt, as he stared at him. Then he turned to Manfred, sorrow and grief replacing his ire, and he shook his head.

"This is wrong," he repeated, and Emmrich wondered whether he was still talking about Manfred or everything else, the Lighthouse filled with strangers, the Evanuris running free, the world on the brink of destruction.

"I am sorry." Emmrich said, but Solas ignored him and left the room, his steps heavy like those of the corpses that roamed the Necropolis.

--------

"Tell him to stop!"

"Tell him to leave."

"I can't do this anymore, Rook, I really can't!"

"He criticizes everything. He's always there, judging us, and nothing is ever right!"

"Doesn't he have another base he can use? Or maybe we should move."

"Varric, perhaps you may talk with him?"

"Don't worry." Varric smiled from his bed, tapping his fingers on the heavy blanket Harding had found for him. "I sent words to a certain someone just a few days ago. She will join us tomorrow."

Rook looked at him, confused.

"Who are you talking about?"

Harding gasped, not sure whether to grin like a madwoman or scold Varric for his insane idea.

"You did not!"

"I did." Varric looked extremely satisfied, his smug smile almost hiding the gauntness of his cheeks. "Wear your best outfits, guys - the Inquisitor is coming to visit us."

--------

She stepped out of the main eluvian, and the first thing she did was smile at everyone. And everyone thought she looked young, very pretty, but also sad, and a bit tired.

"Inquisitor."

"It's an honor, Inquisitor Lavellan."

"My lady, thank you for coming."

They bowed to her, except for Harding who got a hug, and she told them all those formalities were not necessary.

"I'm not Inquisitor anymore." Her smile was small, but sincere and warm. "Please just call me Scarlet."

Bellara admired her prosthetic arm, and promised her to show her the special gauntlet she used in battle. Davrin tried not to stare at her bare face, but everyone had heard the rumors - how the Inquisitor had come back to Skyhold after a trip with her beloved Solas, face free from vallaslin, her eyes filled with tears for weeks, her lover staring at her from a distance with grief in his eyes.

"How is Varric?" Worry and sorrow made her look older. "May I see him?"

"Of course. This way."

She didn't try to hide her awe and curiosity as they led her through the Lighthouse to Varric's room. She devoured everything, eyes setting on every minute detail.

She gasped when she saw the murals in the library, and it was clear she was looking for traces of Solas, too. She searched for him with her eyes, hoping to see him appear from behind a door or around the corner.

The more they walked, heading to Varric's room, the more she grew disappointed. Rook hurried to reassure her he wasn't hiding, not this time.

"Solas went to one of his old hideouts to retrieve some useful parchments. He believes they could be useful to track down the Evanuris."

"Oh." She blushed, pleased.

"He should be here soon."

"I see."

She was shaking due to excitement and anxiety. Ten years had passed since their last meeting, after all. Rook and their companions led her gently through her lover's Lighthouse, hoping she could be the change they desperately needed.

She gasped when they brought her outside, in the courtyard, and she stared at the giant wolf statue that stood at its center, right above the Caretaker's workshop, for a long time.

The spirit observed her in silence. She saw it and smiled, greeting it with a bow of her head.

"You are finally here, after all this time," it said, and her smile widened, looking almost impish.

"I never give up."

She hugged Varric with all the delicateness, love, and care of a daughter. He held her true hand as she sat next to his bed, patting it between his calloused ones, and tried to reassure her that he was fine, that he was recovering nicely.

Guilt and pain never left her face as they spoke.

"Shy, it's not your fault." Varric smiled at her, while Davrin and Rook prepared the poultice he needed to apply on his wound twice a day. Emmrich checked his temperature and pulse, and used a spell to soothe his fatigue.

The others stood around, ready to help, wanting to spend more time with that famous figure, with the woman who had stolen the Dread Wolf's heart.

"I never should have sent you and Harding on that mission."

"I would have gone regardless."

"Me too!"

Scarlet sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, then." She tried to smile again. "Tell me everything."

Neve was just about to share her theories about the Evanuris' possible locations, when the door opened.

"Why are you all here? Is Varric alright-"

Solas froze, staring at the Inquisitor, mouth slightly open. He looked on the verge of a panic attack, thought Harding and Bellara; or a heart attack, thought Davrin and Taash; or perhaps even a stroke, thought Lucanis and Neve.

Emmrich thought he looked ready to crumple on the floor and cry.

Scarlet stared back, cheeks red, then she slowly relaxed and gently said:

"Hello, Solas."

He let out an odd sound, something between a sob and a croak. Then he ran away, and they all shared looks with each other, bewildered.

They had never seen him like that. So... vulnerable. Soft. Inoffensive.

"You really tamed him, Inquisitor." Lucanis snorted, earning himself a smack on the arm from Bellara.

"Don't worry, Shy, you will catch him soon enough." Varric said, smiling at the empty space where Solas had stood. "He can't run from you anymore."

--------

Rook gave the Inquisitor one of the best rooms of the Lighthouse. She retired there for an hour or so to recover from her long journey, and in the meantime the other guests went to the dining room to prepare dinner.

"Do you think he's visiting her right now?" Bellara asked, smiling brightly, for she found the whole situation pretty romantic. Harding sighed, shrugging.

"Who knows. Maybe? I don't think so, to be honest. He needs to recover from the shock."

"He's probably hiding in a broom closet." Lucanis snickered while cutting the vegetables for their salad. "Or rehearsing their next conversation."

"Assuming he'll be able to speak this time." Taash mumbled, making Neve chuckle.

The door opened, and Solas entered, looking almost haggard. His eyes scanned the room, and he didn't hide his disappointment when he didn't see the Inquisitor.

It was rare for him to join them at dinner. He would usually eat his food alone, either in his room or in the library.

And it was definitely rarer for him to help them set the table, but he did so this time, making sure to choose the best plates, and placing a bowl of berries and fruits at the centre.

"Don't we have any cake?" he asked, heading to the pantry and glaring at the shelves filled with cheese, bread, and ham. "Not even sweet tarts?"

"I don't think so." Lucanis said. He raised an eyebrow when Solas went back into the dining room, a storm brewing on his face. "Is it for the Inquisitor? I could bake something special next time."

"No." Solas narrowed his eyes. "I will take care of it."

Lucanis swore in Antivan under his breath, ignoring Spite's protests to shut up and let the Dread Wolf be.

The door opened again, and this time the Inquisitor entered. Solas' demeanor changed in an instant - one moment he was a surly, grumpy old elf, the next an excited, timid puppy, looking at her with big eyes, drinking every detail of her.

"Good evening." Scarlet greeted everyone with her warm smile. She blushed when she saw Solas, and repeated, softly: "Good evening."

"Good evening, vhen- Inquisitor."

Her blush deepened, and they stood there, awkward and shy, until Emmrich took pity on them and cleared his throat.

"Lady Scarlet, dinner is almost ready. Where would you like to sit?"

"Oh, I have no preference."

She walked around the table so her back would be to the fireplace and approached the first chair on her right, but Solas anticipated her: he pulled out the chair for her and gently pushed it back until she was comfortable enough.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him, and his face turned pink, his eyes the biggest puppy eyes the group had ever seen.

He stood next to her, probably not sure whether she wanted him to sit at her side or not, until she noticed his weird behaviour.

"Solas, are you eating with us?"

"I... Yes."

"Then you should sit." She nodded at the chair next to her, and her smile was gentle, but also a bit amused, and he hurried to do as she said.

"Of course."

He sat down, clearly happy she had given him permission to be at her side, and they were so busy dealing with each other's close proximity, that they didn't see the look Davrin and Neve shared, nor heard Taash's snort and Lucanis' "Maker, aiutaci".

"How was your journey?" Solas asked, fidgeting with the napkin and the cutlery, his tone apparently neutral, but not really.

"Long." Scarlet sighed. "I'm not used to traversing such distances anymore. And I'm not a twenty years old Inquisitor anymore."

"You are beautiful." Solas murmured, and everyone around them froze, studying Scarlet's reaction.

Her blush reached her ears, and she breathed out a soft, flattered laugh.

"Thank you."

"Oh my." Emmrich whispered to Harding as they poured the stew - her mother's original recipe - into each dish. "He is truly smitten."

"If anyone can stop him from being an absolute ass, it's her."

--------

"Aren't you a cutie?"

Scarlet laughed and giggled as Assan chirped and rubbed his body against her legs, looking for pets. She gave them to him, stroking his feathers, his head, and Davrin smiled proudly at the scene.

"I have never seen a griffon before. Are they all as beautiful as you, Assan?"

A negative chirp, the little rascal puffing out his chest, and Scarlet laughed again.

Solas was standing a few paces away, also watching them, awkward and quiet, yearning for her touch. Davrin glanced at him, and his previous fears suddenly evaporated.

"Pity Solas said he might die soon."

"What?"

"What?"

The Dread Wolf went to them, his strides long and hurried, panic on his paling face.

"I never said such a thing!"

"You said I am risking his life by taking him into battle, where the Blight is." Davrin gave him a flat, cold look. "And I know you're right. I know I'm being selfish, following centuries-old traditions that make little sense to anyone who isn't a Grey Warden. But this is part of our sacrifice, of the grief we must carry."

Solas took a deep breath, visibly torn between arguing with him and not wanting to do so in front of Scarlet. But she intervened, her voice calm and solemn, and Davrin realized she must have spoken like that during her time as Inquisitor, too.

"Once the Evanuris are finally dead and the Blight is no more, you won't have to sacrifice yourselves and your companions anymore."

She stroked Assan's head, cupping his muzzle and looking into his big eyes.

"There will be finally peace, and griffons will be able to fly alongside people without fearing any corruption. Isn't that right, Assan?"

He squeaked happily, and Davrin felt a rush of gratefulness and hope invade his heart. But what most shocked him was Solas' reaction: he stared at Lady Lavellan with big, awed eyes, his expression the most stricken and softest Davrin had ever seen.

"You are right," he said to her, and the Grey Warden blinked, not believing his ears.

"I know!" She grinned at her lover, then went back to petting the griffon, while the Dread Wolf watched her as an once blind man would watch the first sunrise of his life.

--------

"I'm sorry, lethallan, I fear I don't understand how this works yet." Bellara fidgeted with her many pouches. "But...! Let me know if you have any ideas! Two minds are better than one, after all!"

"I'm not an expert by any means." Scarlet shrugged, turning the little elven device in her hands over and over again. "I could ask Solas, if that's alright."

"Oh." Bellara's face fell. She couldn't help it. "That would be... I don't think he would agree."

"What? Why?" Scarlet looked genuinely surprised. "Nonsense, he loves sharing knowledge and helping people learn!"

Bellara felt her face shift into a grimace, the one she would make whenever she ate something sour or her research didn't proceed as smoothly as she liked.

"I'll go look for him- oh, Solas, you're here!"

Scarlet rose from her seat as he appeared from behind the open door - had he been nearby for the whole time, watching them, waiting for her to call him!?

"Could you please help us unlock this? I fear neither me or Bellara know how it works."

"Of course."

There was a warm, pleased smile on his face. Bellara shuddered, not used to such a sight. Scarlet shared some of their theories with him, and he listened, proud and patient, soft and sweet, before gently taking the device from her hands (their fingers brushed, and they both blushed) and showing her how to activate it.

"Just like that!?" Bellara spluttered, shocked by how simple it had been. "You just needed to press it like that!?"

Scarlet gasped, curious and in awe.

"Oh, it's beautiful, it opened like a flower! What does it do?"

"It's a catalogue." Solas used a bit of magic to further activate it. "A small portable archive."

Bellara bit her lips, trying to contain herself, then she acted, unable to stop herself: she snatched the archive out of his hands and stared at every minuscule detail, overjoyed and excited.

"This is incredible! I can't wait to read everything it contains!"

She beamed at the Inquisitor, admiring her even more than before.

"Thank you, lethallan! I was going crazy over this!" She turned to Solas, giving him a flat look, which he returned.

"If only someone had deigned to explain how it worked sooner."

Bellara left, but not before turning around to see Lady Scarlet fold her arms and scold Solas with a simple, but very effective look. Bellara could almost see his ears drop and his shoulders slump.

--------

Lucanis sighed, rolling his eyes.

"My lady, Spite wants you to know you're very beautiful."

Scarlet smiled. He had explained his delicate situation to her, and even though she couldn't see the demon, she acted as if she could.

"Thank you, Spite."

Lucanis frowned, then growled.

"No, you little piece of garbage, I'm not telling her that!"

He grunted when Spite hit him, making his nose bleed again. Scarlet gasped, babbling something.

"Are you alright!? What happened?" Then she turned towards the door and called out: "Solas, come quickly!"

Before he could understand what was happening, Lucanis felt the Dread Wolf's hand on his head. The pressure caused by Spite's outburst vanished, and he could finally think clearly again.

"Oh. That was..." Lucanis stretched his neck. Spite was still with him, of course, but it felt as if he were sleeping, taking a much needed nap.

Scarlet beamed at Solas.

"Thank you."

Solas blushed and returned the smile. Lucanis glared at him, and the lupo had the gall to ignore him, completely enraptured by Scarlet's smile.

"Stronzo figlio di puttana, grandissimo figlio di buona donna..." the Crow muttered for the whole evening while reading on his cot in the pantry.

-------

"Bull would have liked you."

Taash's mouth was set in a thin line.

"Because he liked dragons, too, right?"

"Not just that. He would have loved fighting with you against one. It's clear you deeply respect them, too."

Taash glared at Solas, who was pretending to check the weapons and armors, but was actually accompanying Lady Scarlet wherever she went.

"I couldn't defeat one the other day."

"Oh, that's totally normal!" Scarlet laughed. "We couldn't defeat one in Emprise du Lion the first time we tried either! It almost burned us to a crisp, and Bull and Cole had to carry me and Solas all the way back to camp."

She giggled remembering the scene.

"Do you remember that, Solas?"

He cleared his throat.

"I do."

She laughed again, the old memories of better days making her face glow, and Solas' face as he looked at her was so sickeningly sweet, Taash felt a shiver run down their spine. They had never seen the Dread Wolf act like that.

"Is that right?" they drawled, judging him hard after their last conversation - but he had eyes for Lavellan only.

--------

"Thank you, Manfred. Your tea was delicious."

Manfred rattled happily, and had he been able to blush, he would have done so. Emmrich smiled at the scene.

"He thanks you in return, my lady."

"You can understand him, then?"

"Oh, yes! We hold many interesting conversations. Manfred is an excellent herbalist and alchemist."

"That's wonderful." Scarlet smiled at the skeleton, but then her expression slowly turned into something more pensive, kind of melancholy.

"Are you... happy like this, Manfred?"

He nodded, the green gems of his eyes shining brightly under the lights of Emmrich's study. Scarlet studied him for a second, then her smile returned, filled with trust.

"That's wonderful. I wish you all the best - should you need anything, just let me know, alright? Maybe I could find a way to understand you, too."

Ah, Emmrich could see why Solas loved her so much.

Manfred gurgled a "thank you, my lady", and when Emmrich raised his head to the spiral staircase, he saw Solas watching them, pining and yearning, the rage from their old conversation completely gone, replaced by wonder.

--------

"What about the High Reaches you marked here? I feel like they might be a good hiding place, too."

Neve scoffed despite herself. She wasn't angry at the Inquisitor, of course, but at her lover and his dreadful lack of tact and good manners.

"Solas said the Evanuris aren't hiding, but gathering more power. And that they wouldn't do that in places like this."

She raised an eyebrow when she spotted him on the railing above the library. Maker, he really followed Lady Scarlet everywhere, like a lost puppy.

"Oh." The Inquisitor looked back at the map, worried and deflated. "He's probably right. He knows how they think better than we do."

"That's...!"

Solas walked down the stairs - no, almost ran, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Let me check, vhen- Inquisitor. Perhaps I was mistaken."

Neve's eyebrows reached her hairline.

"You mean here?" he asked, pointing at the range of mountains near Minrathous. His hand slightly hovered over Lady Scarlet's back, almost touching it.

"Yes. It's near Tevinter's capital, so I thought..."

"That is an excellent idea. Yes, they might be commanding their minions from there, close to their main objectives."

Neve snorted, not really angry and annoyed anymore. In fact, she was amused, and she realized she had found one more piece of evidence that proved how smitten, how sappy the Dread Wolf was when it came to Lady Scarlet.

--------

"How can you..." Harding sighed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "How can you look at him, talk with him, without feeling the urge to... to..."

She groaned, tossing a pebble into the pond in her room.

"I love him." Scarlet said, simply, softly. "I know you're very angry, Harding. I am, too. But despite all the rage, all the pain, I love him."

"I know."

Harding looked at their reflections in the shallow water. She looked grumpy, tired, a smudge of soil on her cheek. Lady Scarlet still looked a bit too pale and tired, but it was clear Solas' presence had rejuvenated her.

"If we survive all this..." Harding vaguely gestured at the air to indicate that whole mess. "What are you going to do, Inquisitor?"

"You mean...?"

"With Solas, yes."

"Oh, it's easy!" She grinned, suddenly very cheerful. "Once I save him from himself, the marriage is back on!"

She said that with so much sincerity, with so much candor and innocence, Harding couldn't help but cackle, falling backwards on the floor.

The Inquisitor laughed, too, but Harding knew she was serious, that that was indeed what she was planning to do. Always so bright and hopeful, looking for the best in every situation - one of the many reasons why people had loved her as Inquisitor.

They heard a sound just outside the door, and Scarlet sighed fondly, shaking her head.

"Eavesdropping on us? Really?" Harding said, but she was not really angry, just resigned and even amused. That stupid man couldn't stay away from Lady Lavellan for more than ten minutes, now that they were finally together again, with no more secrets between them.

"I think I'll go to sleep. Goodnight, Harding."

"Goodnight, Inquisitor." Harding gave her a lopsided, impish smile. "Sweet dreams."

--------

Someone knocked at her door, and she already knew who it was.

"Solas."

Scarlet smiled at him. Part of her wanted to drag him into the room and finally, finally hug him and kiss him after all those years, but she didn't wish to scare him. She could see and feel he still loved her, just as she still loved him, but she wasn't sure he was finally ready to let himself go.

"Vhenan." His voice was soft, a whisper carrying all his love and guilt and pain and adoration. "I missed you."

She swallowed her tears, but they spilled from her eyes all the same.

"Oh, Solas." Her real hand trembled as she reached out to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, sighing happily, never breaking eye contact. "I missed you, too."

"I want..." He took a deep breath. "There are memories scattered around the Lighthouse and the Crossroads. Scenes from my past. I want you to see them, all of them."

Eyes wide, she could just stare at him, at a loss for words. He rested his hand upon hers, clearly determined, fully resolved to finally share everything with her, the good and the bad, Fen'Harel included.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness nor your love." His hand on hers trembled, and a tear ran down his cheek. "But I love you, vhenan. I always will. If the world truly is going to end, if we won't survive this, I wish to die by your side."

He smiled, that sweet smile he had for her only.

"But should we survive this second catastrophe, too, I wish to walk with you wheresoever you desire, to share everything with you, to live with you. Not as Fen'Harel, not as a god of rebellion, but as Solas." His lips quivered. "Your Solas."

She sobbed, a luminous smile on her face. She nodded and a "yes" had barely left her mouth, when he stepped forward and crashed his lips against hers, holding her tightly. He peppered her face with kisses, smiling as well, their laughter and giggles filling the corridor, before scooping her up into his arms and entering the bedroom, their hearts the lightest they had ever been, soaring with hope and love.

[bedoballoons]

AFTER SEEİNG THE MİTSURİ READER ONE I HAD TO ASK FOR THİS

So hear me out

On a reader like shinobu, i mean like her intelligence and teasing ykyk

W genshin bois

(especially tighnari if you write for our fox boy 🤭🤭)

I love fox boy!!! I hope you enjoy! <3 Also incredibly sorry anon if you sent this a long time ago!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Shinobu Kocho like reader!~༺}

CW: Fluffy! Reader calls Lyney dearest and he calls them ma chérie! A little bit of teasing! Technically this is a part 2!

(Includes: Lyney, Gorou, Tighnari, and Scaramouche!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You looked up at Lyney, watching with intrigue as a blue winged butterfly landed gracefully on the top of his hat, it's presence entirely unknown to him as he continued to walk beside you, making the situation that much sweeter. For a second you thought about letting him know, but then a idea started to formulate...perhaps you could tease him a little, get him back for all the teasing he had done. "Lyney dearest, you might want to clean your hat, I swear I saw something move amongst all that dust."

He stopped mid step, raising one of his eyebrows at you in curiosity and you could only chuckle in response, watching the butterfly on his hat open and close its wings peacefully without a care in the world. "My hats never dirty, ma chérie how could you say something so cruel." Lyney pretended to act offended, deciding to play along in your little game and you couldn't be happier. "I think you might want to check again... your hat certainly isn't free of live creatures.." You giggled cheerfully as his face went pale, uncertainty in his eyes as he lifted his hat of his head slowly.

The second he saw what you were talking about he couldn't help but laugh, a blush of embarrassment coating his cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lip, the two of you watching as the butterfly flew away.

𑁍༄Gorou:

You looked at the bottles in front of you, examining their multi coloured exteriors that concealed the various deadly poisons you'd created, each one perfected and ready for you if you ever needed them. To anyone else, this collection would seem terrifying, but in your eyes it was a wall of achievements, of trails and tribulations....and only one other person seemed to understand, his support enough to keep you experimenting even when everyone else acted like you were insane.

"Whatcha working on now?" Gorou appeared next to you, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy, a big happy smile on his face that was one hundred percent contagious, forcing you to smile along with him. "Actually I'm not working on anything currently, just spacing out until you got home. Did everything go well with Miss Kokomi?" You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder and absorbing his warmth, his tail wagging slightly with joy at your cuddles.

"Mhm! Her excellency has everything prepared for the trip to Inazuma city...and I'm hoping you'll join us..." He pulled away so he could look at you, his eyes wide and pleading, begging you to come with him so he wouldn't have to be away from you for such a long time,...how could you say no? "Alright alright...calm down doggy, I'd love to go with you." You placed a kiss on his cheek, watching in delight as he blushed lightly and hugged you in response, clearly excited to take a trip with you.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was more than impressed by you, in fact awestruck seemed like a better word to describe his current state of being. He'd never met someone like you before, absolutely beautiful in every way, with butterflies as your source of inspiration when it came to clothing and your intelligence when it came to alchemy absolutely blew him away, not to mention you seemed to know a few things about being a doctor too!

It seemed like you had him wrapped around your finger, to the point he found himself thinking about you in his spare time and wondering what you could be up to, just like he was now. His heart tempting him to go find you and ask if you'd like to go out for lunch, or maybe have dinner together, but he also felt nervous...would you catch onto his feelings?

"Tighnari? You alright?" Your voice knocked him right out of his thoughts, disbelief taking over his features at the realisation that you'd snuck up on him...how has he not noticed you? "Yes Im alright. Sorry I was...thinking about something. What're you up to?" His eyes met yours, sending warmth to his cheeks and making his heart race, he hoped you wouldn't notice the change in his mannerisms..."I noticed you sitting here spacing out and I figured maybe you'd like some company, wanna go grab a bite to eat? We can talk about the new medicines you've been working on. I figured out a alternative for capsules!"

He smiled happily, his tail wagging with excitement as he nodded, his little crush growing with every moment he spent with you...to the point of no return.

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

You narrowed your eyes, your attention trained solely on Scaramouche, his usual smirk replaced with pure focus and neither of you moving a muscle, the stakes were high this time and you weren't going to go down without a fight. You could feel victory was on its way though, the match of true champions coming to a end as the seconds ticked by...and then it happened.

"You blinked Scara!" You jumped up from your seat at the table, cheering happily and feeling quite proud of yourself for besting such a high ranking harbinger, proving power wasn't enough to win everything. "I did not! I say we have a rematch, clearly you weren't paying good enough attention! Worthless being!" Scaramouche stood up too, his cheeks red with anger and slight embarrassment, he knew full well he had lost fair and square, but he couldn't just let you win that easily!

"Nope absolutely not. I won and that means your power isn't as strong as my intelligence, remember that was the deal." Your crossed your arms, smirking at him playfully as he tried to come up with some other excuse or reason to play again. When he didn't respond after a few moments you started to wonder if you'd gone to far...only to be proven entirely wrong, "Fine...my turn then...if I win you have to give me a kiss..." a devious look flicked across his features and it made a shiver run up your spine.

"Alright what is it?"

"Let's play the game of whoever is taller wins."

"Hey!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[heylavellan]

Happy Friday! For DADWC, I took a prompt from one of your lists, for a pairing of your choice:

⇴ person a and person b are partnered up together in some context, and they try their bests to act as normal as possible (hint: it fails hilariously)

Have fun!

thinking about tarquin and ashur for this. so veilguard spoilers abound! written as a part of @dadrunkwriting.

business as usual

rating: e

words: 709

additional notes: e for i am describing sex but not in graphic detail. tarquin is my favourite whiny bitch

Ashur was lucky he wore a damn costume, because after last night Tarquin's not sure he could look him in the eye. Not because he was embarrassed or wanted to break things off. No, his mind would simply drift to last night, which meant he would cease to function and would try to steal the Viper for himself.

And if he had him? They could recreate the events of the previous night. Ashur's face between his legs, until they shook so hard they gave out. Fucking Ashur's stoicism out of him, until he was babbling and whining. For his own sanity, the templar needed to hold himself together until there was a good time to talk about... whatever was going on between them.

Never that easy though. If it was, he certainly wouldn't trust it. Mae needed backup today, and even if he trusted Ashur to keep her safe, he didn't trust Ashur to keep himself safe. Leave it to a singular guy to protect two important Shadow Dragons.

"Good to have my two favourite men with me," Mae purred, leading them to the Shambles. Officially, it was liberati housing. But everyone knew that liberati barely scraped by in Minrathous. They'd be lucky to land a job with the templars, and a military salary wasn't enough to support a family here. Often the kids were working and so were the parents. And most missing people cases originated from here.

"I don't trust the two of you on your own," Tarquin complained. "I take my eyes off either of you for a minute and then you're playing in the rafters." To accentuate his point, the Viper dropped down from a roof beside him.

Mae laughed, drawing Tarquin close beneath her arms. "You two have gotten quite close since I last visited," she remarked with a wink. Tarquin knew he was blushing bright red. Ashur was a bastard for wearing a mask. "I have someone to talk to in their shop. Be a dear and don't let anyone in for me," she instructed, planting a kiss on the Viper's cheek before ducking into the building.

The pair leaned against the door frame, blocking the door. A small awkward gap was between them, while they waited. The silence wasn't comfortable, at least for Tarquin. He could scarcely look at the Viper, much less think about what being this close meant. Or what it reminded him of. Maker, he needed Ashur back in bed after this.

"You can talk to me, you know," the Viper commented. Asshole. Bet he was looking down at him wearing that ridiculous hat. Talking would make him want other things, and a safe place for that was far away.

He shook his head. "You know better," he replied curtly. Short. Succinct. Hopefully he'd get the hint.

The small rumble of laughter beside him suggested no. He had not gotten the hint. "She just likes ruffling your feathers. Her way of saying she appreciates you," Ashur explained, a smile in his voice.

"We have a job, unless you forgot," he stated, imbuing his words with all the vitriol he could muster. It wasn't much, and if the sparkle in Ashur's eyes were any indication, it came out more petulant and whiny.

"Was it the kiss?" Ashur teased.

"Stop it."

"It was, wasn't it."

Right. The Viper needed to shut up. He plunged his hand into Ashur's shirt and pulled him closer. He closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against where he hoped Ashur's were. That ugly mask made it impossible for the templar to find his lips, but that was more Ashur's problem than his.

Even through the fabric, he found Ashur's lips with ease. Tarquin surprised himself when he moaned into that kiss, the brief peck that it was. "Don't try me," he grumbled, looking into Ashur's eyes. Damn him.

"Save that for when you don't have an audience, boys," Mae tutted, walking out of the building. She pressed a piece of paper into the Viper's pocket and shook her head. If he wasn't flushed from kissing the Viper, he certainly was now.

"I hate you," the Viper complained, before wrapping an arm around Tarquin's shoulders and leading the trio back up to Dock Town.

[winchesterscorner]

[Castiel] - Here For You

♫ - Trying - Cavetown

TW: This fic deals with mental health/depression themes, if that makes you uncomfortable or upset, please skip this one! <3

Lately, you hadn't been yourself. You would never admit that, but Sam and Dean could see it from a mile away. Normally, you would be engaging, sarcastic and full of life. But at the moment, you were quiet and drawn into yourself.

"Hey, Y/N," Dean started, setting down a glass of orange juice in front of you. "Doin' okay?" 

To anyone else, it didn't seem too sincere, but you knew him well enough to know that it most certainly was. The boys cared about you as though you were their own sibling. Dean loved you, and so did Sam, and it broke Dean's heart to see you so closed off.

"Yeah, all good." Your voice was blunt, but still held a cadence that told Dean you were trying to tell him otherwise. You were fiddling with your hoodie sleeve, and passing one of your rings through your fingers as though you were anxious. Dean looked at you with a sad expression, but you didn't catch it as you carried on looking at the table.

"I don't believe you sweetheart, but I'm not gonna push you, okay? You need something, you call. We're all here for you. Me, Sam, even Cas. We've got you."

With that, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and left you be. You took a sip of your juice, and sighed. You knew you probably should open up to them, but there was just something stopping you. This time, you didn't know what it was. Maybe it was because you knew Sam and Dean had so much on their plates, and adding your own worries on top wouldn't help. Maybe you didn't want them to worry. Whatever it was, it was getting you down more than it probably should. 

You hadn't felt like this before. Other times, you hadn't had a problem opening up; you'd cried with Dean multiple times, had Sam help you through numerous panic attacks, even gone for coffee with Castiel once or twice. Which got your mind wandering.

Castiel, the angel. You were too old to have a crush, but it was the closest thing you had to describe how you felt about him. You wouldn't dare voice it, though you were worried at certain points he probably felt it. You found something that felt right about being around him, though what it was, you were uncertain. Maybe it was his nature, how kind he was. He was always gentle with you, and understanding of your situations. He's never once judged, always offering you advice. Snapping out of it, you rubbed your eyes and finished your drink.

You stood, and grabbed your jacket. Shouting up to Dean that you were going for a walk, which he acknowledged and told you to be careful. Grabbing your jacket was the smartest thing you'd done, as it was a very cold Kansas evening.  Snow hadn't quite fallen, but the air was misty and the bite of the cold comforted you, in a weird sort of way.

Walking for a while, you happened on the park, which was fairly empty, save for a few children and their parents in the play area. You chuckled to yourself a little, sitting on the bench.

'Man, nothing stops kids, does it?' you thought, shaking your head humourously.

You sat back, savouring the warmth of your jacket against the weather, and just listening to the sounds around you. Birds chirping, children laughing, parents chattering away whilst the children played. A sense of comfort and calm hit you, for the first time in a while, and you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you nearly jumped out of your seat.

"My god, Cas!" You placed a hand on your chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

"My apologies, Y/N," he genuinely looked a little saddened. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine, don't worry. Probably shouldn't have had my eyes shut that long, anyway. You could have been anyone."

Castiel sat down next to you, and you wondered why. Cas rarely stopped by unless necessary, and only then it was usually with everyone. He never talked to just you. 

"If you're looking for Dean, he's back home reading up on some stuff, I think."

The angel shook his head. "No, I'm not looking for Dean, I'm here for you."

You furrowed your brow, not in an angry way, but in a confused way.

"Do you need something?" you inquired, assuming it was probably something case related.

"No, actually I'm here to just... talk."

This was a foreign concept, to the both of you. Cas wasn't one for small talk, and you weren't one for opening up much. So, to hear that he wasn't here to talk demons or ask about Dean was strange. In your normal mood, you wouldn't have minded. You thought the angel was cute, you just never knew how to talk to him.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Cas questioned, his voice low and concerned. 

"Did Dean send you here?" You sat up a little more, annoyed that it could be a possibility. 

He looked hurt. "No, I'm here on my own accord, I just want to help if I can."

You looked up at him, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked back. He wasn't lying. He did just want to help.

"Sorry, Cas. I really didn't mean that." You looked down, ashamed you thought such a thing of him. "I'm just having a really hard time, right now."

"I'm listening."

You really didn't want to talk, but there was something about him that made you want to all the same. Maybe it was the fact he was an angel, or perhaps that he had a different aura than everyone else. You knew Cas really well, and you had often had personal chats where it was just you and him. You cared about him, whenever he got hurt, you helped fix him back up. The opposite was true, as Cas had healed you more times than you could remember. You pondered, and gave in. There was no reason to stay silent.

"I just feel... really sad. Like, I don't know - like I don't really belong, at the minute. I don't feel great about myself, I feel like I'm annoying, that I just get in the way of Dean and Sam, I'm more of a burden than I should be. I think I get on your nerves, always wanting to be around you. Right now, I'm sick of existing. I feel like I'm in a cage, and I don't have anyone to help. But, even if I did I wouldn't know what to say..."

You trailed off, tears in your eyes but none falling. You didn't have the energy to cry.

"Well," Castiel started to speak, placing a hand on your knee. "I'm sorry you're feeling sad. You don't deserve to feel like this. You might think you're in the way, or you're annoying, but as someone who sees you on the outside, you aren't. You're a valued member of the team, and you're a great person. Sam and Dean think you're incredible, and so do I. If I'm your safe space and you want to be around me, that's fine, I'm more than happy."

His admission brought you out of your haze. "You think I'm incredible?"

Cas nodded. "I do. You're always supporting everyone, you're kind, caring. It's no wonder you're feeling the weight of the world right now. You do so much for others that you haven't been taking care of yourself enough. You might not say it, but I can sense it, you know? I just wanted you to be able to say it, so we can start healing."

"We?" Your voice was almost a whisper, those tears threatening to fall. Cas smiled at you.

"We. I'll be here for you through everything. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise I'll do anything in my power to help you. Which starts by getting you home, it's raining and cold and you don't need to get sick on top of all of this."

You giggled, and nodded. You were so caught up in Castiel's words you hadn't even noticed the rain. Your tears were falling, but you hoped with the rain he wouldn't notice. You also forgot Cas was an angel, but were swiftly reminded when he took your face in his hands.

"I know you're crying," he wiped under your eyes with his thumb. "And that's okay. It's a good relief. Promise me one thing, promise me that whenever you feel like this again, you'll try and call on me? I don't care what time it is or whatever is happening, just call. I'll sit on a park bench with you for as long as you need."

"I promise, Cas. I'll do my best."

He smiled and kissed your forehead, your face still in his hands. Without thinking, you kissed his cheek and buried your face into his chest. His arms folded around you, casing you in his warmth. You felt at peace, listening to the beat of his heart and sighed.

"Let's get you a hot drink and a change of clothes, shall we?"

Something about this felt right, and felt normal. Nothing about anything in your life was normal, but being with Castiel and walking in the rain hand in hand, knowing that you weren't alone no matter the pressure life put on you, was the best feeling you could have asked for.

You felt a weight off your shoulders, and knew that with your angel by your side, anything was possible.

A/N: Thank you for reading. This was more a project bc I'm going through it, and writing helps me heal. I hope you enjoyed, please remember you're always loved and cared for, my dm's are always open! <3

If you enjoy my content, you can buy me a coffee here :)

[jadeyarts]

two years ago i drew art to ... "celebrate" (if you can call it that) the release of fairly odder, and i was asked this question:

truth was i hadn't actually watched it so i couldn't actually answer the question fairly. but now that i've actually watched it: apparently, yeah.

i wouldn't call it a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination - it's a relatively mundane nickcom that just happens to feature cosmo and wanda. its not as funny as drake and josh or icarly, but not as terrible as sam and kat or... the... superhero nickcom? i definitely like it much better than i liked victorious. and i do think it's a lot more creative than it was initially given credit for when it first released. it doesn't come across as trying to devalue animation as a medium but rather an experiment in blending the two mediums. though the 2d animation in the series is a little wonk when it's more than just cosmo and wanda.

some jokes are really, really miss for me - but a lot do make me laugh. the acting is decent - they're certainly no emmy or oscar winners with these performances. but i really do think they're fine. campy and hammy and perfect for a nickcom. if this had come out around in the early 2000s, 2010s maybe, i could see it doing well - doing better than it did in 2022, at least. it's absurd in all the ways i personally find entertaining in a series. despite everything i see wrong with it and the ways i think it's not good, i'm liking it.

i love the way the plot is introduced adds to timmy's character - emphasizing that empathy and kindness he's always shown in the original series that i loved so much. that he wanted cosmo and wanda to look after his younger cousin he knew would struggle to adjust to a new environment, with her entire life being flipped upside down - wanting them to comfort her and be there for her during this period of her life... it reminds me why i've always loved timmy so much as a character. i love that they establish he's still a good-hearted person.

yes, timmy suddenly having a cousin is a little jarring but i always found it unrealistic that he didn't have any in the original series when he's meant to be an average kid - the average kid has a ton of cousins! - so i think her existence is a good call! sure, i wouldnt call viv or roy (viv maybe, roy definitely not) miserable enough to really need fairies the way timmy ever did, or the way chloe did, but honestly at that point i genuinely believe jorgen would be willing to let the family do what they want as long as they otherwise followed da rules and stayed out of his way. and i like the idea that cosmo and wanda can be godparents in ways that aren't the norm for other godparents anyway.

i'm also liking most of the new characters introduced in fairly odder and i could easily see them fitting into the original series! rachel and zina in particular make me laugh out loud. when they're not making weird jokes about zina's obsession with roy's scent, she cracks me up. i like the way she is confident and charismatic but also a huge obsessive weirdo, but mostly not in a way that made me uncomfortable like tootie. her back and forth with roy is actually entertaining and if she ever actually got together with him i don't think i'd mind at all. in fact maybe i'd even be a fan?

and i like how absolutely inconsiderate and uncaring and truly sick in the head rachel is - she is a bitch in the most literal sense. she barks at people. ty seems a little more considerate considering he realizes he was impulsive and should have told viv about what was going on then apologizes. but rachel is dramatic, describes herself as nuts, and selfish. she's mostly not making much of an effort to bond with viv - it's not like shes a horrible stepmother or anything, she clearly doesn't dislike viv and treats her decently. she's not antagonizing her or going out of her way to be horrible to her - but she is also nuts and rude. and she barks at people constantly. she's fucking weird and self-absorbed and i love her so much.

and roy - i love the way he mirrors timmy's character as someone who is self absorbed and tactless, irresponsible and impulsive... but ultimately extremely caring and loving. he's easy going, and easily accepts the unexpected and strange. the difference is he's exactly as popular as i think timmy realistically would have been, being a charismatic and natural leader. he's not as quick thinking and cunning as i think timmy is, but viv kind of makes up for it, i think.

viv is... a little more... normal than i was hoping for. she's fine, and i think she makes a decent foil for roy in that respect. much like i think chloe made the perfect foil for timmy. but i kind of hoped that viv's neurotic social-awkwardness and people-pleasing would be more exaggerated like chloe's was. not in the same ways, of course, it'd be boring to have an exact duplicate of chloe when roy isn't even an exact duplicate of timmy per say. but i just feel like viv was far more normal than timmy and wanda's conversation about viv being a mess lead me to believe she would be. and while i like the idea that it's cosmo and wanda's influence that helped bring her out of her shell and helped her adjust to dimmsdale, i do wish it could have been shown more.

with their parents' love of dancing and highly dramatic demeanors, combined with the characterization for their children, the whole family kind of has the vibes of a remix of early series timmy's parents, chloe, and timmy - even being in a family set-up similar to what i personally wanted to happen with timmy and chloe - but despite their similarities theyre also different enough to stand apart! i can see them being family because they're similar without being carbon copies. it's fun for me, personally, because exploring extended and blended families and the ways they can be similar and different is something that i like.

i also liked nate buxaplenty! i never liked remy, but nate was funny.

the only real objection i have is the subplot where vicky has a thing for crocker. though i guess honestly thats just because i personally always headcanoned crocker as her uncle but that's not canon so thats not really substantial grounds. the fact theres an age gap would really only be terrible if crocker actually reciprocated but he doesn't so it's weird, but honestly fine. my second instinct is to say it devalues her as a character but she had weird taste in men in the original series and she was repeatedly shown to be exactly like that when infatuated so it fits her character. i still don't like it... but its fine. could do without, though.

[jgabriel1920]

JESUS CHRIST I ALMOST DIDN'T POST TODAY. Literally almost immediately failed Johnnytober. Anyway.

Johnnytober 1°: double penetration.

Martha x Miss.Mayberry x Blackwater(oc)

what went wrong?

Seriously, Blackwater had to wonder. He had a simple mission: get the territory on the border of pride. Straight to the point, all he had to do was convince anyone that lived there and kill who disagreed or was too wild.

There weren't even many people there, just a couple near the imp town and some World War stragglers in a poor made bunker.

Yet here he was.

"Fucccckk~ Go harder~"

"Yeah cmon speed up, donkey~!"

Urgh.

Yes, he was fucking two women at the same time. Rather crude, but there wasn't any better way to put it.

Well, there was. Like he could describe double girthy and lengthy dicks stacked on top of each other, constantly entering and leaving the ladies cunts, even frictioning between them as a bulge appeared at their belly each time in went deep.

Perhaps, he could explain how the both women clashed tongues between them, doing the equivalent of a tango by how much they twisted together, minus of course the saliva dripping from their mouths and sliding to one of their chests, as their breasts clashed together and sometimes rubbed together their hard nipples.

All things he wasn't a fan of. He wasn't homophobic, just not found of this intimate connections, no matter the gender, specifically if their happening only because one of them has the ability to shapeshift.

One million dollars to guess who it was.

"Fucking hell I said faster!" One of the women, Martha by her thick southern tone, exclaimed while kicking his ass. Literally.

"If I do it any faster I will hit your organs." He said in a matter of fact tone. Maybe better description would be sarcasm but he genuinely was surprised by how both were alive to this point. There wasn't even any need, he knew from biology books that the female g-spot was located near the entrance, and certainly didn't need to be poked by a 20 inch pole the size of a light machine gun.

"Does it look like it m-matters~? Mmmh~ just do it~!" Miss.Mayberry said weakly, more like one would dealing with a monstercock (he couldn't believe that though occurred in his head.)

"If I want it you two dead I just shoot you." He warned yet again. Couldn't both wait? It was just a war of attrition at this point.

"All I hear is a little coward~!"

"You think this insults will work? I not doing it."

"Cmon boy~ won't you do it for mommy- AH~!"

"I don't have any masters to control me." He snarled through his teeth as he pushed the top one down, pounding fervently at them. "If I have to prove it throught your ruined guts then so be it."

These imbeciles thinking they could talk him down? Him? He was the one that planned for 30 years the fall of the hierarchy of hell, he was the one so close to proving even destiny wrong, and he wouldn't be outsmarted by a couple of freaks in the middle of nowhere.

The wet slaps reverberated though the house, the two ladies moaning and whimpering like bitches in heat. Stench of sweat stung around with the smell of sex, and the smell of cum when he finally climaxed.

His vision actually went dark for a moment, but it went back to normal... Which was just the corners being black.

It took a few seconds, long seconds, but it all went all. They all breathed heavily and deeply, seeking for air like they ran a marathon.

In the end, Blackwater got out as quick as his trembling legs could, morphing into a more discreet figure to get out, basically having nothing down there since if he had a pussy it would drench his pants the moment he completed formed it. Speaking of which he was fully clothed and on the exit door in seconds.

"W-Wait a second-"

"No. Calm me only if you die, please."

Oh, the sacrifices he made for democracy.

Did someone miss the manhunt gifs~?

...

No?

Awh okay :( also wrote this in a cocaine fulled streak at 9 pm. And maybe sparrowrye might be a bit traumatized in seeing Blackwater this way-

[kalcifers-blog]

Dead Mans Switch - A Void Silver/ALTRverse FanFic

Angst, Hurt/Comfort Fic

CW: implied attempted execution, blood, injury, near death experiences, almost major character death (he doesn't actually die but he definitely thinks he's going too) self loathing, self deprecated thinking, major sacrifice

Also implied Sunday x Marvin because I want people to see them in the way I do

Word Count: 1, 643

If you had told Marvin only a year ago that The Magic Circle, the people he trusted the most, would be the ones to put him in grave danger, he wouldn't have believed you.

It was almost like some kind of cruel joke, it rang out in the back of Marvin's mind as the red hot pain of his injuries bled through the fabric of his now bloodstained and sticky clothes. A very small part of him grimaced at the thought of peeling said fabric off his wounds- but a bigger part of him wondered if he would be allowed to live that long.

A sadness and fear blossomed in his chest as Marvin started to come to realise that he is going to die. His mask layed shattered in half in front of him- his aid being stripped away and broken into pieces as the Twins first attack. One that left the left side of his face burning in an agony he couldn't even begin to describe- his left eye filled with red and began to darken. Marvin wondered if he'd be able to see from that eye again if he somehow managed to get out of his situation alive.

The face of one of the Twins- whom he never was able to discover the name of- stared back at him with a cold, uncaring expression. It wasn't even like she particularly cared that he had betrayed The Magic Circle, or her by extension, or that he mattered any more to her than some pest that needed to be dealt with.

He stared back at her with the one eye that could still see with as much sorrow and pleading as he could muster. If the mage had any compassion for the man at any point she certainly did not show it. There was a cruel nothing behind her gaze, something that only cemented Marvin's fate in the form of a stone cold headstone.

He should've been smarter- been more vigilant, consulted and found more allies. He shouldn't have looked into the void of a man in the first place. It wasn't his business and now he was paying the price for it.

He had Sunday- the one person who truly stuck by his side through all of this. He owed Sunday everything for the sacrifice the man made for him, Sunday had everything to lose by putting his trust in Marvin and he did so without a second thought- how Marvin could've ever repaid him he had no idea. All he knew is that, even if he escaped this situation, he'd never be able to.

Sunday was apprehended by the other twin- his magic had a stronghold on the man, forcing him in a stone like stillness, watching the brutal execution take place. Marvin wished nothing more than to spare the man the view, but paired against both of the twins, even at his full ability, Marvin didn't stand a fighting chance.

Marvin was not a pleading man, up until this point there was nothing you could have done to convince him to be vulnerable in any sense of the word. But today was not like most days and Marvin feared what would become of not just himself but of Sunday- and of the people that will no doubt be affected by the man who is void of all space.

Marvin looked back on Sunday- his eyes were glazed over in the same purple glow as the Twins where, his face frozen in horrified shock. It was then Marvin felt the warmth of his own tears sting the deep cuts on his face- It was his fault- all of it- he should've done or said anything, Sunday would've been spared if he hadn't. Marvin didn't want to think of what would come of his friend if he died.

Would they kill him off for helping him?

Marvin couldn't stand the thought- he had to- no he needed to make sure that this would not happen. His fear and sorrow gave way to the last resort Marvin had- a dead man's switch of all mages when they get to a certain level of their ability, only to be used in the most dire of situations and not recommended if you plan on continuing on having magic.

It was a true last resort. Marvin would never be the same if he did this. He would never get back to the level he had spent his entire life building up too if he even attempted this. But how much life does he have left? He's almost dead as it is- it would be the only way he could ever repay his debt to Sunday…

Marvin's magic erupted in a fiery blaze of agony- every last fibre of energy and magic left in him exploded into a wave of electrical rage. Marvin kept his eyes shut, only looking at Sunday to assure himself the spell wouldn't harm him.

There was a look of shock and rage that flashed on the faces of the Twins. The male Twin dropping his hold on Sunday- who collapsed to the ground in anticipation of the spell rushing past him. The spell hit both of the twins as they both attempted to stop Marvin. Neither of which succeeded.

As the magic settled, Marvin fully collapsed to the ground, feeling the life bleed out of him slowly. The pain even started to fade- he couldn't give up now- but he just could not move, he was so tired…

“MARVIN?”

Sunday's voice rang out- Marvin couldn't move or speak to settle his fear, but he felt him roll his body onto his back as his breathing, rugged as it was, came out in slow and painful waves. He felt the coldness of Sunday attempting a healing spell.

"Healing spells always leave such a minty taste at the back of your throat", Marvin thought- as he tried to cough up words to reassure the other with. All he could muster was his blood soaked hand lazily reaching out to the other- it landing on the side of Sunday's face and it stayed there until Marvin didn't have the energy to keep it held any longer-

Healing spells could only work on wounds that the body could naturally heal by itself, the spell essentially only sped up the process. Both of them knew that, it didn't stop Sunday from trying.

Marvin felt the world start to move around him as Sunday picked him up- was he planning on taking him to a hospital-?

The world went blurry…

And then it went dark.

There was a harsh light when Marvin woke up. A blinding light. For a second he almost thought that he was dead and had passed on to the afterlife. But as his vision came too, he was definitely in a hospital bed- a faint droning beeping of several machines he was hooked up to played in the background as he weakly took in his surroundings.

Sunday was asleep- a book half open still in his hand. The desk next to him had a small pile of books, most of them on healing spells- a small few being graphic novels Marvin recognised from his own shop. Had Sunday tried reading to him? The idea pulled at Marvin's heart in a way he couldn't describe- his attention pulled to Sunday himself. His clothes were in a state, bags under his eyes heavy and his demeanour just screamed that the man had barely slept.

The guilt of everything started to set in- even now Sunday was giving more of himself just to help Marvin. Probably not knowing if the man would live or not. Marvin couldn't help but feel a crushing sensation wash over him- he won't be able to protect him now- of course Sunday could protect himself, he was at the same level, if not deserved a higher level of magic compared to Marvin. Sunday was strong and resilient and Marvin knew that.

But the idea of him not being able to do anything to help Sunday- without his magic how could Marvin even begin to protect or to help Sunday.

He deserves better than this- he shouldn't be wasting his time with me- the warmth of his own tears poured down his face. Marvin couldn't help but collapse under the realisation of everything that had happened.

It must've been the sounds of his sobs that woke Sunday up-

“Marv you- oh thank fuck-” Sunday crashed into him in a strong embrace, he held onto Marvin like he was about to slip away again. Marvin clung onto his friend's shirt, all he could do was bury his face into his shoulder and let himself cry.

“You had me so worried- the Twins they've gotten off, I can't track them with a scrying spell so I don't know what they're up too but we're protected right now don't worry. You've been here for nearly a week now by the way..”

Sunday trailed off with a yawn. Clearly his nap hadn't helped with his clear exhaustion at all.

“Why are you here Sunday..”

Marvin asked, his voice broken and hoarse. The look on Sundays face in response pained him-

“You've done so much for me- I don't deserve it-”

“No- none of that”

Sunday cut him off almost immediately.

“Marvin I'm here because I- because I care.”

Sunday pulled Marvin back into a hug. Marvin tiredly accepted it without question. Maybe for just a moment he could let himself feel the warmth of the other man and let himself feel lost in it.

There was an uncertainty in the air. About the twins, the magic circle, the void man, his magicless future- everything. The only thing he could be certain off is the comforting liminality of this moment, just waiting for whatever happens next to arrive.

[thatgirl4815]

I found it hilarious that Jojo has been loosely touting a Taylor Swift parallel when it comes to Mew and his relationship with Top (and it's obviously a surface level joke) but if you actually listen to the songs in Reputation and Lover...the storytelling is 100% Ray. It's finding love at your lowest. The self-loathing, seeking love as salvation, blowing up good things in fear and realizing too late, secret rendezvous where neither knows what game is really being played, finding their purported last love in a world that hated them--who is all of these things but Ray?

The Taylor Swift thing is mostly just an entertaining observation for me but the thing that the thematic elements and imagery in her music prompted me to re-think was that famous final scene in episode 10. While you watch Ray's eyes morph the therapist into Sand, there's a stoic golden glow to imaginary-Sand as he sits in the therapist's chair like a throne, as though you've walked into a temple dedicated to him--a temple Ray has dedicated to him. It's almost like Ray has always seen Sand as a god.

Throughout the confession that follows, Imaginary-Sand is mostly emotionless, minimally responding to Ray as Ray maintains an incredibly reverent face despite breaking down in tears. The apology contains so many reused phrases as though Ray were reciting some sort of prayer, and even while sitting in the sofa, the camera kind of points up at Sand rather than at the even level he is really at when you see things through Ray's vision. Finally, when Ray gets on his knees and imaginary-Sand appears to console him, it's not clearly romantic or friendly. There's a godliness to it. The point is, the whole thing just felt akin to a religious awakening to me. And then I realized I felt those same feelings emanating from Ray in the caravan, in the music room, at the party, drunk in the parking lot, on the rooftop, in the kitchen(s), when they wake up together for the first time...

I don't know what this means for the relationship Ray and Sand have and whether it will ever really be healthy, but it certainly made for poetic cinema. Has Sand eclipsed the unattainable Mew? Has he become the unconditional heavenly father (I say, mostly in jest)? Another point of consideration is that Ray always seems to be wearing a cross. Just saying.

Anyway this theory is pretty out there, and in any case, it's less about proving the idea and more about seeing what others thought about it as a vantage point of discussion, and whether it colors how Ray, and Sand and Ray as a couple, are interpreted.

Those are such great observations! Taylor Swift's lyricism is so fascinating and complex to me, and I agree that there are so many lyrics that could easily apply to Ray.

In my opinion, Ray is easily the most complicated character in this show. It's no wonder they chose Khaotung to play him because there are so many feelings he has to work through, especially in these emotionally-charged scenes. When the camera pans behind Ray's head and Sand appears, Ray slowly looks up at him with tears in his eyes. That first moment when he meets eyes with him and says his name just speaks to how agonizing this confrontation is for Ray, because he's confronting himself through the image of Sand. This entire scene is the acceptance of just how much Sand means to Ray, just how badly Ray has screwed up yet again, and just how much gratitude Ray has for Sand in his heart.

Your analysis of the religious aspects of the scene is so compelling. The golden coloring behind Sand echoes a lot of what @thewayuarent has analyzed about the contrast between cold blue lighting and warm gold lighting for both Sand and Ray. Also interesting your point about how the camera is slightly angled up at Sand rather than at eye-level. Originally I wouldn't think too much of this but contrasted with the shots of Ray at eye-level, it seems super intentional.

"Religious awakening" is a great way of describing it. There's been a lot of discussion about Ray putting Mew on a pedestal and idolizing him, but I think we see a similar kind of reverence being displayed here, but with some notable differences. With Mew, it felt like he was always something distant, something Ray wanted but could never quite touch. But in this scene, we have Ray facing Sand, on his knees for him, embracing him. Despite the whole thing being imaginary, it feels very real in a way I struggle to articulate. There's a worshipping aspect, I agree, but there's also a realism in the way Ray is very honestly considering his emotions. With Mew, I'd argue those feelings of idolization were allowed to grow out of Ray's fantasy, but with Sand, it isn't something Ray has blown up in his head. My main point being--I don't think it's necessarily suggesting an unhealthy power imbalance with Ray as the worshipper and Sand as the godly figure (in the way we saw with Ray and Mew), though I think this scene does an excellent job of emphasizing how Ray views Sand as someone honestly and purely good.

Another reason I think Khao delivers this so well is that he speaks through his eyes in every one of those scenes you mention. He sees all of Sand's goodness, but I don't think he's directly confronted his own behavior until this moment. Yes, he's apologized and yes he's realized that he was in the wrong. But here he is laying it all out on the table. Following the topic of religion, it almost feels like a confession. In Ray's imagination, this is a space where he can expel all of his feelings to the image of Sand. It's almost better that Sand can't react here (seeing as he's imaginary) because it brings the focus back to Ray. Even though Ray is crying to Sand and about Sand, it's all a reflection of his own flaws in their relationship and otherwise.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 2)

previous // next // story index

__________

Despite blatantly violating the posted speed limit, Beth-Anne feels as if the drive between her house and Nikolai’s is taking far too long. She’s terrified of what she might find when she gets there, and her mind is flooded with worst-case scenarios like an unending reel of nightmares playing in her anxious brain. She questions everything; her decision not to stay on the phone with him, the extra minute she’d taken to text Stan, each tiny action or choice she’d made since hearing his voice tonight.

Anything could have happened in the last several minutes. Anything.

You have to calm down, she orders herself. You aren’t going to be of any use to him like this.

The problem is, she isn’t confident that she knows how to calm herself. She’s faced a lot of loss in her life and she’s never coped particularly well with it. Losing someone she loved had nearly sent her over the edge before, and the recollection of that makes the thought of losing Nikolai even more unbearable.

What would Stan tell her to do in these circumstances?

Think of something positive. A good memory. A time when you were hopeful and happy.

Yes, that’s it. She's had many happy, hopeful times over the past ten years. Being able to come back to the figure skating world after believing that part of her life was over, working side-by-side with her friend and former coach, getting to know Nikolai and watching him grow as a person and flourish as an athlete; all of that camaraderie, love and support has sustained her and taught her how to find hope and happiness within herself.

Everything will be okay. It has to be.

She remembers the day she first met Nikolai Pavlenko. It was on a Thursday in late July. School was out for the summer and most skating lessons and group classes were on a pause as well. Only the serious athletes were still at the rink when everybody else was at the park or the beach.

Beth-Anne herself had been spending as much time as possible at the beach. As a physical education teacher at an all-girls private school, she was largely free during July and August, and she preferred to spend the time outdoors, hiking, swimming, puttering around in her garden or working on her tan. Although she still skated at her local community centre for fun and exercise, going to the rink in July wasn't anywhere near the top of her to-do list.

So, when she'd received a call from Stan, asking if she'd come and join him at a practice session for a couple of his students, she was intrigued. Slightly suspicious, naturally, but certainly intrigued.

"Why would you want me to do that?" she asked.

"I have a very unique problem," Stan told her. "I have two potential champions on my hands. Absolutely top-tier talent."

"And?"

"I can't manage them both, can I? I thought you might like to meet them. Maybe pick one."

"Pick one? For what?"

"To coach," Stan said, his tone implying he shouldn't have had to point that out.

"I have a job, Stan."

"This Thursday at ten o'clock. Be there," he said. "Or not. It's up to you. I personally feel like it's a golden opportunity for you, but—"

She hung up on him.

But, she went to the rink that Thursday anyway.

If anyone asked her, she wouldn't have been able to describe her feelings when she stepped through the doors of the arena where she used to train. It was strange, coming back to a place she hadn't been to in over four years. It felt familiar, like coming home, yet at the same time she got the sense things had changed enough that she really couldn't call this her place any more.

She made her way to the rink area, where she found Stan out on the ice with two of his students. Stan was fifty, with a lot more salt in his salt-and-pepper hair than he'd had when Beth-Anne was first introduced to him.

How long ago had that been? Beth-Anne had been seventeen when Stan took her on as a student. Had they really known each other for fourteen years at that point?

That'd make it... twenty-four years to the present day. Nearly a quarter-century. God damn.

She recalls observing Stan and his students for a few minutes before announcing her presence. Stan looked healthy and fit, and she was glad to see he still put his skates on and went out there with the kids instead of coaching from behind the boards.

Both students were teenagers. The girl was clad in a form-fitting turquoise top and black athletic pants, and had a long rust-coloured braid secured on the end with a wide turquoise elastic. She was tall and lanky and moved as if she couldn't wait to unleash her power. The boy had a smudge of a moustache, and out of control hair that Beth-Anne guessed he'd allowed to grow a bit too much to compensate for his lack of success in growing facial hair. He was wearing the ubiquitous close-fitting black athletic pants and a baggy forest green sweatshirt with the tongue-in-cheek slogan 'I heart this shirt' emblazoned on it in bold white lettering.

Beth-Anne almost lost it when the boy called out, "Hey, Uncle Stan! Check out what I learned from a video!"

"Don't you dare—" Stan began.

But it was too late. He was already skating backwards, and with the momentum he'd built up, he leapt off the ice and into a heart-stopping back flip. He landed on his feet, arms spread wide and face alight with a rascal's grin.

The girl let out a whoop. "I knew you could do it, Nik!"

"Nikolai Pavlenko, don't you ever do that again!" Stan yelled.

Both Nikolai and the girl were laughing so hard that they fell to the ice in their mirth. They grabbed each other's hands and did a little cheer.

Beth-Anne didn't need to see Stan's face to tell that he was torn between being exasperated and being entertained. She could see it in his body language. These two were most certainly a handful, but she knew he loved them nevertheless.

Seeing her opportunity, Beth-Anne said, "I guess I'm not interrupting anything important."

Stan turned at the sound of her voice. He gave her a little wave and started skating in her direction. "Beth-Anne, you made it. Great!"

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," she said.

"Well, I guess you're getting an eyeful." He glanced over his shoulder quickly as he stepped off the ice to join her. "You two, get up. Practice what we were working on yesterday, and no more dumb shit, please."

"That means you, Nik," said the girl, and her companion rolled on the ice, taken over by another laughing fit.

"Nikolai!" Stan shouted.

"Sorry, coach," said the teenager. He rubbed briskly at his face with his palms and took an audible breath before scrambling to his feet. "Practice what we worked on yesterday. Got it."

Stan sighed. "I'm telling you, Beth. These two are going to be the goddamned end of me."

"I can tell you really care for them," Beth-Anne said.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they're not a massive pain in my ass," he said. "Especially that one." He jabbed a thumb into the air, pointing behind himself at Nikolai.

"That one," Beth-Anne echoed, gesturing at the young man in the green sweater. "Tell me about him."

"Nikolai Pavlenko," Stan said, pronouncing the name in a way she was certain no non-Slavic language speaker could do. "Seventeen years old. Had his debut in the senior division two years ago, and was honestly pretty unremarkable. But, I think that had more to do with inexperience and poor coaching than lack of talent. He came here from Ontario last year, and placed fourth at Skate Canada with me."

"You saw something his last coach didn't?"

"Obviously," Stan said.

"And the girl? She's the one who came from the UK specifically to train with you, right?"

"Vivienne Holmes. Yeah, she's my girl," he said. "We call her Ginger."

"Because of her hair?"

"No, because she's full of it. Full of ginger, I mean. That kid is like the Energizer Bunny and she's cheeky as hell, especially when she's with Nikolai."

"Sounds like the perfect match to me."

"Only if you think two troublemakers are better than one," Stan scoffed. "Anyway, Ginger's going to be sixteen in a couple of months, and she's having her senior debut this season. I need to separate those two so she can focus. I'll be damned if she flops in her first year at senior level just because she was too busy joking around with her buddy to concentrate on skating."

"So, you didn't actually ask me here to pick one of them, did you?" Beth-Anne said. "You want me to coach Nikolai."

Stan smiled at her. "You saw right through me."

"Wily bastard. How did you know I'd even come?"

"Because you can never say no to me." Stan held up a hand. "Now, shh... just watch. There goes your new boy. He's about to fly."

Beth-Anne found she couldn't take her eyes off Nikolai, momentarily stunned into silence as she watched him perform a flawless quadruple toe loop. His form was excellent and he made the difficult jump look almost effortless.

"Well done, Nikolai! Very nice!" Stan called to him. "Way to impress your new coach!"

Beth-Anne let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Holy shit, Stan."

"I taught him that," Stan told her, clearly pleased. "It's his first quad, and he just started doing it around the end of May, beginning of June. You should've seen the disaster it was when he first tried it this spring."

"He's only seventeen?"

"Hmm," Stan hummed in affirmation. "He'll be eighteen in December. He's got amazing potential and I can see him going all the way to the top some day, but I really don't think I'm the right coach to get him there."

"Why not?" she asked. "You coached me to gold once."

Stan looked amused. "You practically coached yourself. I was just along for the ride."

"That's not true. You were always—"

"Look," Stan said. "Nikolai is special. He and Ginger both are. They could be world champions, but you know working toward that takes a big commitment of time and effort. With all my other students, I can commit to one or the other of them, not both, and Nikolai is... Well, he's a charmer and he knows how to get what he wants, whether it's good for him or not."

"You mean, he walks all over you."

"With his skates on," Stan said. "Got the metaphorical blade marks on my back to prove it."

Beth-Anne laughed. "So, it's like that. You want to foist your problem child onto me."

"Foist? Is that even a word?"

"Learn fuckin’ English, Stan."

He snorted in his effort not to laugh, but soon turned serious again. "Nikolai needs a firm hand. A coach who's going to love him and let him have fun, but also who's gonna keep him focused and isn't going to put up with his usual shit."

"And you think that person is me?"

"I do."

"Are you forgetting that I've never coached before? You say this kid's got enough potential to possibly be a world champion, and you'd let him risk all that on a green coach?"

"You're not green. You teach P.E. for fuck's sake, and don't you coach volleyball and run the dance club at your school?"

"That's not figure skating. It doesn't count."

"Like hell it doesn't," Stan insisted. "You've got experience working with teenagers, and you sure as hell know about figure skating. Just put the two together, and you'll kick ass as a skating coach. Plus, I saw that article in the paper. The kids love you, and clearly the board of directors of your school does, too. I mean, they don't give out Teacher of the Year awards to just anybody, do they?"

"No, but... I don't know about the whole coaching thing," she said. "I never thought about doing that."

"Tell me something. Do you like being a teacher?"

"Yeah. I like working with the kids, but..."

"I knew there was gonna be a 'but'. Go on."

She sighed. "How the fuck can you possibly know me so well?"

"I'm waiting for the part that comes after the 'but', Beth-Anne," Stan prompted.

"Fine," she said. "I guess you know I still skate."

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

"I wasn't ready to give up competing. I still dream about it."

"Do you?"

"I really do love teaching. I'm proud of the girls when they win a volleyball game too, but it doesn't actually mean anything, you know? Some of those girls might go on to play volleyball at university, but none of them are going to make it their career. It's just something to distract them from math and English and history."

"Right," said Stan. "What I'm hearing is that you're feeling unfulfilled."

"I wouldn't say unfulfilled," she countered. "Just... maybe not as fulfilled as I wish I was."

Stan gazed at her for a second or two. "You want to know what watching your kid win a medal feels like? A kid you've trained with day in and day out, who you literally think of as yours because you see them more than their parents do?" He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You talk about fulfillment and doing something that means something. That's it, right there."

"I don't know..."

"At least meet Nikolai, yeah? Maybe skate with him for a little bit? If he likes you and he agrees to it, then come and join us at practice for the rest of the summer. Call it a trial run to see if it's gonna work for you."

"Okay," she said. "But no promises."

"You don't have to commit to anything right this second," Stan assured her. "Just try it out, and if you do decide it's what you want, I'll be here to help you. I promised you a long time ago that I'd always be there for you, didn't I? You're not gonna be in this alone."

And she hadn't been. Stan had been there every step of the way to help her and give her advice when she needed it, to keep her on track when she got discouraged, and to remind her that she and Nikolai were doing amazing things together. "Your Nikolai is going all the way," he'd say. "I can see it."

My Nikolai, she thinks now. When did that happen?

She'd liked Nikolai from the moment she met him, and it'd only taken her a week to make up her mind to resign from her teaching job and become his coach. She adored his personality and was enchanted by his big blue eyes and devil-may-care grin, but most of all she was inspired by his passion for skating.

Stan hadn't been wrong. Nikolai was a charmer and a troublemaker, and yes he did require an application of verbal discipline from time to time, but he was bright and genuine and had the greatest capacity for love that she'd ever seen in a person of his age, His obvious joy on the ice filled Beth-Anne's heart with a kind of reflected happiness that she hadn't felt in a very long time, and she knew she wanted to keep that sentiment alive, for herself as well as for him.

There must've been a definitive point at which she'd started thinking of him as hers, when she'd ceased to be just his coach and somehow became more like a bonus mother to him. His real mother, Elena, is a good woman and Beth-Anne doesn't doubt that she loves Nikolai and his sister Natalya very much, but as long as Beth-Anne has known Elena and Mikhail Pavlenko, she's always had the impression that they were emotionally unavailable for their kids.

From the start, she knew sweet, sensitive Nikolai required someone who’d try to understand all his feelings without judging him for them. For him, skating was more than just a technical sport. The rink was a canvas on which he painted his innermost thoughts. He poured out his soul onto the ice, and she stood by his side, cherishing him and the artistry of his emotions, hearing the things he couldn’t say with words alone.

In his own way, he'd done the same for her, offering his faith in her and his love for her as priceless gifts. God knows, she'd been desperate for someone to believe in her back then. Without doubt or judgment, Nikolai became that someone. He never saw her as a failure or a has-been. He'd opened up his heart and mind to her and let her guide him toward what would become their shared dream. Together, they found a connection beyond words, where the rink became an almost sacred place.

The first time he won gold in a competition with her as his coach and they placed that medal around his neck, Beth-Anne felt as if they were giving her an award too. She'd never been so proud of another person's accomplishments in her whole life. Even her own lone gold medal from long ago hadn't felt as good as that, and she could hardly wait to thank Stan and tell him he was right.

After the medal ceremony, Nikolai came down from the podium to find her at the edge of the crowd. He was practically bouncing, and the smile on his face could've lit up an entire room. He threw himself into her arms with a jubilant exclamation of, "Beth-Anne, we did it!"

She hugged him tight. "You did it, sweetheart. It was all you."

"No." He shook his head, causing his floppy brown hair to brush against her chin and cheek. "We did it. I couldn't have got here alone. I couldn't do any of it without you, and I'd never want to."

"I'll be with you as long as you want me to be," she said.

He leaned close and whispered. "Forever, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and deep inside she knew she meant it. She never wanted to leave him, not ever. Even when his competing days were over and they'd both moved on to other things, she hoped she could still be his friend, his confidante or mentor. The truth was, he'd saved her. He'd given meaning and purpose to her life when she felt it had none. He brought her back to the sport she loves, and she’ll always be grateful for that. She doesn’t consider it a sacrifice to do whatever she can to repay him for offering her that precious second chance.

After a moment, they let go of each other, and Nikolai took a step back. Then, he did the most extraordinary thing. He lifted the ribbon of his medal from around his own neck and placed it around hers instead.

"For you," he said. "Keep it."

She touched the cool metal disc. "Nik, I can't keep your medal. You earned it."

"You helped me earn it." He offered her that mischievous grin of his. "Besides, I'm going to win lots of them in the future, so I'll have plenty. You should have this one. You know, to keep yours company, because two together are always happier than just one alone."

To this day, she doesn't know if he realized the allusion he'd created. She is happier with him, with Stan, with her two up-and-coming junior skaters Brett and Mariah, and all her non-competitive students from her group classes.

Almost no one is better off alone. That was a lesson she had to learn, and she's thankful the ones who taught it to her were Stanislav Kovac and Nikolai Pavlenko.

She took Nikolai's medal home from that competition, and she hung it on the wall of her den, next to her own gold medal. Over the years, the display has grown with coaching awards, as well as photographs, newspaper clippings and framed magazine articles all featuring the successes of her students. The collection always expands outward, with the two gold medals eternally at the centre.

Wait... this is Nikolai's street!

Her truck's tires shriek as she takes the corner way too fast. Fortunately, the pavement isn't wet and nothing goes awry. She can't believe she’d distracted herself so successfully that she had nearly missed turning in the right place. She swears aloud, exhaling a string of foul language that'd doubtless make a dockyard worker blush.

Nikolai's house is the only one on the street with a light on inside. She parks her truck at the curb and sprints across the yard and up the front steps. Her heart hammers against the inside of her chest.

When she tries the door, she discovers it's unlocked. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she eases it open and steps inside. The air in the house is damp and cold as if there's a window open somewhere, allowing the chill February night to impose itself like an unwanted houseguest.

She doesn't have to look far to find Nikolai. He's sitting on the floor no more than two meters from the doorway, head down, staring at some undiscernible spot on the polished hardwood floor. It seems he'd done exactly as she instructed. He unlocked the door for her, and then did nothing else until she arrived.

She experiences a little pang of heartache as she takes in the situation. Nikolai is wearing the same red gym shorts and loose grey t-shirt he'd been wearing when she'd last seen him in person three days ago, and his overabundance of chocolate brown hair is dishevelled and stringy. His right knee — the injured one — is badly swollen, and she doesn't see his crutches anywhere. She knows his leg hadn't looked that bad the last time she was here, and she wonders what might've happened.

She says his name softly, and he looks up. His face is tear-streaked, and the edges of his eyes are red as if he's been rubbing at them.

"I'm cold," he says.

She shuts the door quickly. A thousand questions tumble through her head, but she rejects them all as either inane or inappropriate. At last, she settles on, "Where's Anya?" Somehow, she stops just short of adding 'What the hell did she do to you?' or 'Why the fuck would she leave you like this?'

Nikolai shakes his head. "I don't know. I... I'm alone."

"Sweetheart, no," Beth-Anne closes the distance between them in two long strides and then drops to the floor beside him. She takes him in her arms, and he instantly collapses against her, weeping. He's shivering. She thinks she should try to get him into warmer clothes, but first she has to make sure he's going to be okay. She strokes his back, just as she'd done a few weeks ago in Taiwan, like she's probably done a hundred other times. "I'm here. It's all right. You're safe, and you're not alone. I said I'd always be here for you, remember? I promise, you never have to be alone."

[bthump]

saw this comment on Reddit about the latest chapter and thought it was interesting:

“The shot of Rickert kneeling down over Guts lying face down on his stomach saying “Guts, is that really you?” parallels the scene of Guts finding Griffith in the dungeon, also lying face down. Just swap the names and they essentially say the same thing.

Personally, I do think the behelit will activate for Guts sometime before the story is over. Or at the very least, it will start reacting, seeming like it wants to activate.

Thematically, I just can’t see it belonging to anyone else. It’s our Chekhov’s gun.

I see only one of two things happening:

The behelit activates for Guts, and obviously he will refuse.

Or

He finds a way to infuse it into the dragonslayer to make it have the same potential as SK’s sword of actuation.

I’m leaning towards the former.

Though, there is one more possibility that I’m just now starting to consider: that the behelit belong’s to Rickert.

It seems like Rickert might become a major player for the final act. I think they might be building him up to be Griffith’s true foil. He evens looks a lot like a young Griffith with his new hairstyle. I’ve always felt like Rickert is the story’s moral center. He might not have directly suffered as much as Guts and Casca, but he still lost all of his friends — all of his family — and was betrayed by the man he once looked up to above all others. However, unlike Guts, instead of running off to seek revenge, or spiraling out into self-destructiveness, he faced the pain of his losses, honored the memories of his fallen friends, and turned his focus towards those precious few he had left in his life. The kid has been through a fucking lot, but he hasn’t let his pain harden his heart or crush his soul. Now, just like Griffith, he went from being a total nobody to an incredible leader at a very young age. But unlike Griffith, his reasons are not vain, selfish ones.”

Obviously there are elements in the comment that I know you will disagree with like the Griffith being selfish and the part where they say guts would never sacrifice. but I think the thing about the parallel with Griffith and also the stuff about Rickert is a thing I haven’t seen people consider yet. Sorry if you don’t like other peoples comments being posted here, I know you don’t like what happened with the metas but my intention isn’t to criticise this comment I just found it interesting and I kept them anonymous

Yeah no, I personally don't see anything wrong with discussing comments made publically, and yeah nothing about your vibe comes across as malicious or anything. I don't want to encourage these kinds of asks because they obviously do bother some people, but I'm not gonna turn them down either unless I get bad faith vibes from the asker, or whoever originally posted it makes it clear they don't want others discussing their takes.

So yeah my thoughts on the subject:

Basically I see their point about Rickert being the moral centre of Berserk - idk if he's a prominent enough character for me to describe him that way, but he's definitely meant to be a foil to Guts in how he handles the Eclipse and losing all his friends, and to illustrate a much healthier method of coping, forging new relationships and goals.

I think it's a stretch to suggest he's meant to be a foil to Griffith, a better version of Griffith in any sense. Like there's no indication that he's leading the troops here first of all, he's just one of them. I wouldn't describe him as a leader, certainly not without further information.

And I doubt the behelit is Rickert's, for the same reason I doubt it's anyone's except Casca's, possibly Guts', or mmmmaybe Serpico's: there's no foreshadowing of a despair condition or sacrifice material. It's possible Miura was just gonna cram it all in at the end, like surprise! lol, but idk, that feels cheap to me. It'd be disappointing if so, imo.

Also I do think there are Griffith in the dungeon parallels right now with Guts falling apart lol, so maybe that's purposeful? But I think Guts' despair is more likely to lead to the armour taking over than the behelit opening. Mainly because Guts doesn't need two separate ways to give in to his inner darkness lol, and now that he has the armour the behelit is both redundant and probably too permanent for a protagonist. The armour is perfect in that he can succumb and then be pulled back to himself after crossing a moral event horizon. The behelit is a little too conclusive whether he says no or yes to monsterism. Also the armour is just Guts' style. Passively make an agreement to become a monster? No, but lose his shit and start ripping people apart? Absolutely.

[willel]

ST Play Theorizing

Feel free to join in in the comments. I will be putting this under a read more because I am literally doing everything possible not to spoil anyone who doesn't want to know stuff.

A couple more hours have passed and as I listen to the Persona 3 Reload Soundtrack on repeat and eat ice cream, I have some more thoughts.

Henry

What I take away from Henry at this point is that while he's not a good person, he was also in a no-win situation. Henry was purposely and intentionally shaped into the person he is today by Brenner, the Mind Flayer, his mother, and himself.

I can't exactly fault anyone being influenced by a demon from an alternate dimension, but it's just that. Influence. His symptoms, while similar to possessed Will, doesn't seem to match. It seems like he's in the same position as non-possessed Will. Unlike Will who can just feel its presence and understand its intentions, it seems Henry can actually "hear" it.

From what we've seen of other possessed people, they are pretty much incapable of functioning like normal human beings after a while since the mind Flayer is not human. They also begin to look sickly and pale. Like zombies who stare off into space.

The Henry was saw in the lab in season 4 was not like that. Certainly he wasn't right in the head but I wouldn't classify that as a normal Mind Flayer possession.

No, there's something else here. We have two people so far who were in the Upside Down for an extended amount of time and SOMETHING was wrong with them that isn't exactly possession. They become connected to that place and change mentally and physically.

It's not just mental and physical trauma, it's something else.

Could it be simply breathing the air too long is enough to do this?

Could it be eating or drinking... whatever substance that can be found there is the culprit? What exactly is there that changed Henry and Will's nature?

Will was there for like..... 7-8 days I think? And they say Henry was there for 12. Could it be those 4 to 5 extra days caused the Mind Flayer to have more influence over Henry's Mind than Will's?

Anyway, to summarize, what I take away from Henry's story here is "No one is born evil, they become evil." He was probably once a normal kid and maybe in an alternate world where he was able to make some slightly different choices, he could've gone down a different path. Like most other humans.

But now he is the way he is, killing teenagers for power and revenge, obsessed with making the world his playground. Although his goals line up with what the Mind Flayer wants, I don't believe the Mind Flayer is the ultimate source of his "pain" so to speak.

Will's Disappearance

I haven't really found enough people describing Henry's disappearance. So I'll just draw the conclusion that Henry was out near the Nevada desert or something star gazing with his spyglass and accidentally got swept up in one of Brenner's experiments. We he just casually star gazing or was he an adventurous kids that came across a secret government facility and curiosity killed the cat? I dunno.

This disappearance I think we can for sure call an accident. I don't know how he got back to the real world, haven't read that either. But he did.

So this leads me to question Will's disappearance. For the longest time now, I've had the theory that Henry/Vecna kidnapped Will. I don't mean that literally, I mean Henry controlled the Demogorgon that night looking for El and Will got mixed up in that.

Whether he mistook Will for El for a moment, realized it wasn't her, but took him anyway OR thought it was her the whole time and didn't realize it wasn't until afterwards. Either way, I was thinking he controlled the Demogorgon.

Now after this play, I have two different minds.

It's possible that it was the Mind Flayer that took Will. Apparently the Mind Flayer has experience messing with little kids heads and making them into pawns. Vecna might not be able to survive outside the Upside Down, so a new vessel for the Mind Flayer is a given. So I guess Will was a suitable victim for their needs.

It still leads me to wonder if something particular about Will made him suitable for this. Surely Barb or those hunters or so many other people sitting in Hawkins would've worked? So why follow this kid around for a week when getting someone else would've been easier?

The other possibility is that it was still technically Henry/Vecna that orchestrated this. His goals are aligned with the Mind Flayer and his reasons for needing a vessel are the same. Plus, if there was a particular reason to take Will, Henry would have a better idea why since he can get into peoples minds and all. Maybe their similarities is what made Will the ideal candidate.

[habibite]

title: bottoms up pairing: tahno/korra (legend of korra) word count: 2.1k

posted on ao3

23:30

“I’m hungry.” “Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken the lock.” “I said I was sorry.”

xxx

21:30

He had purchased the eyeliner because it had been advertised as 100% smudge-proof. 

It was a claim that Tahno had found to be entirely untrue as he leaned over the cool, ceramic countertop, carefully eyeing the black lines that smeared, if only in the slightest, and if only in the sight of his trained eye.

He gave a heavy sigh as he stood straight once more, having done all he could do to attempt fixing the smeared eyeliner, chiding himself with a quiet click of the tongue  for switching from a brand that he had come to trust, to a new brand that he had just heard of the other day. 

“If ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  The old adage ran through his mind, one his mother frequently quoted, one he fervently hated. 

His hand ghosted over the brass doorknob, and he was almost out, when...

She happened. 

It's the only way to describe it, really.

One moment he was on his way to freedom - sweet, sweet freedom - and the next moment, the door opened on him, the frame hitting him square in the forehead and pushing him back, while a mess of sniffles and tears hurrying in, slamming the door behind her. 

By itself, it wouldn't have really been a problem. He had never seen her cry, and didn’t particularly care to, and was planning to quietly slip out of the bathroom and back into the crowd upstairs. However, when he heard the door click, and  though he didn’t try to open it, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that - given his luck - he might be stuck with the mess of sniffles and tears for a while.

And that was a problem.

He had come to socialize (if only briefly), to get drunk (well, not drunk drunk. He never really did like the taste of alcohol, per se, but it was a 21st birthday party - and not just any 21st birthday party, but Miss Asami Sato’s 21st birthday party -  so what else was to be expected?  … Not to mention that just a sip more of the wine he had previously been nursing on would have substantially improved his current mood, and to have a good night in general. It had been so long since he had actually been out and about and enjoyed himself. He had quite been looking forward to this night.)

He had certainly not come to be trapped in a bathroom with her. Not under normal circumstances, and certainly not when she was upset. 

Tahno was, by no means, a big believer in Fate. 

He did, however, think that someone, somewhere had a twisted sense of humor. 

It's the only way to explain how it came that he was staring down at the distraught girl who only grew more confused at the fact of another person would be in the same room. 

Hurriedly, she wiped away her away her tears with the back of her hand, crossing her arms defensively, looking up at him with the most annoyed look on her face. 

"What are you doing in here?" And though she wanted her question to come out with a bite, her voice still wavered. 

Tahno's eyebrow quirked as he leaned against the cool counter once more, supporting his weight with one hand, ignoring the stinging sensation that came from the door imprint on his forehead.

(And he hoped that she hadn't seen the tears that had welled in his own eyes upon the contact, and the way he hissed - and, well, he may have cursed, but that's not the point because it didn't hurt that much.)

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted. His voice was smooth, a practiced tone, despite himself being mildly bewildered. "Don't you know what a closed door means?" 

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout as she moved just a step closer to him, as if challenging him. "I know what it means," she huffed, "But it wasn’t locked.”

“It was locked.” His lips curled into a frown, his own arms crossing over one another. “Before you knocked it in.” 

Because, really, that was the only plausible explanation. Tahno getting older, though… certainly he wasn’t becoming so scatter-minded so soon. 

He huffed at the thought (though perhaps she thought he was huffing at her, because her mood only darkened to the point where Tahno could actually feel it.)

(And it felt mildly frightening.)

“Is there something you needed?” He asked, dry humor edging into his voice. “Or did you just come here to bother me?”

“I didn’t come down here for you.” Her eyes narrowed - he had never seen her in such a foul mood before - giving him one last look before turning on her heel for the door. “As much as I know that hurts your feelings.” With the off-handed comment, she twisted at the handle and -

Ah.

Just as he had thought, it didn’t budge. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

In spite of himself, Tahno chuckled. The exasperation in her voice, mixed with her vocalization of his exact thoughts, was oddly funny. 

"You broke it."

"No, I didn't."

"You came in like a rhinopotamus. You broke it."

"If it had been locked, I wouldn't have come in."

She had turned now, looking at him, her hands balled in tight fists at her sides. He still hadn't moved from his spot against the counter. 

(And, the pain in his head had gone down quite a bit, thank you very much.)

"It was lo-" He stopped himself mid-sentence. Again, he huffed, the sharp exhale blowing at the strands of fringe that had rested against his forehead. "It doesn't matter." Though the tenseness in his voice made her think that it did indeed matter, and it gave her some small pleasure to know that it seemed to irk him. "What matters is if you can unbreak it." 

"I already tried, Pretty Boy." Her hands unballed - thank you - and rested on her hips instead. "Unless you'd like to try."

"I'll leave the brute force to you." His lips pursed, briefly. "I didn't come to throw myself against the door. But, I suppose I also didn't come to spend my night with you." A smirk tugged at the corner at his lips, not entirely from good humor. "Tonight's full of surprises, isn't it, Uhvatar?" 

If her mood had lightened any, it was gone as soon as he finished his sentence. 

"Apparently."  She shifted, turning towards the door as if, by sheer willpower, it would open. 

22:15

"No one's coming." 

"Shut up."

She had taken up a perch on top of the counter, watching as he paced, worrying tracks into the plush carpet. 

"They would have come a long time ago."

"I said, shut up."

Though he was a bit hurt that Ming and Shaozu hadn't come after him.

"Whatever, Mr. Grumpy Hair."

(He found that he liked it much better when she had taken a vow of silence against him.)

22:30

"You're going to burn Asami's rug."

He looked at her - still on the counter - and frowned. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Not yet."

22:35

"Have you tried yelling?"

He groaned. Loudly. 

22:37

"I have to go to the bathroom."

 "... Are you kidding?"

"Yes."

22:40

He had given up pacing for sitting, the tips of his toes touching the bottom drawers of the cabinet. 

"This is ridiculous."

"I agree."

"This is your fault."

Korra scrunched her nose - again, ridiculous - and he second guessed his position on the floor when she had to look down at him. "So call your fan club to bail you out." 

22:45

"How much longer do you think the party will last?"

"You don't know much about parties, do you?"

"No." 

"A couple more hours. At least." 

She sighed, sliding off of the counter and onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest - and how she did it with the dress she had on, he wasn't quite sure. 

Of all the pranks that life had played on him in his twenty-three years of living, this one, by far, took the cake. 

Had he known that, when the Sato princess invited him and the Wolfbats to her birthday party, he would be where he was right now, well… 

He might have rethought his RSVP.

They had been in the small bathroom (that seemed to be getting smaller) for at least an hour now. Maybe two.

(….Had it been three?)

(Surely not.)

Tahno tried to think of the longest he had ever spent with her, and his mind could only recall the brief moments in the locker rooms before a Pro Bending match. 

(Because somehow the Fire Ferrets were still a team.)

(And, though he would never admit it, she was an enjoyable opponent, and seemed to be the one person he had found in his career that could evenly matched against him.)

 23:00

"I'm sorry." 

"Yeah."

23:15

Despite the thickness of the walls, the rain fell heavily enough for them to hear, and lightning hit hard enough for them to feel the vibration of the thunder. The flickering of the lights gave him enough of an excuse to pretend he didn't notice the momentary look of fear in her eyes. 

(Not that he had been looking at her eyes.)

"I didn't know it was suppose to rain." 

"So it seems."

"... Do you think the lights will go out?"

 "I'm not an electrician, Korra."

"Oh."

"Are you scared?" 

"No!" 

He laughed a laugh that made him throw his head back. "I can't believe it -"

"Shut up."

"- Our Avatar, afraid of a thunder storm." 

She turned her head, unwilling to meet his gaze. "I'm not afraid." 

He hummed, the reverberation getting lost in his throat. "If you say so." 

And that was that.

23:20

"Hey. When you came in here, you were crying. Why?" He hadn't really meant for the words to come out. It wasn’t that he really cared. Girls cried all the time.

(But it was something different when Korra cried.) 

And besides, it was boring to sit in silence.

(And she had seem really upset.) 

"I wasn't."

A quirk of his eyebrow challenged her words. 

"Mako broke up with me." Her voice made her seem smaller than she already was with her knees pressed tightly against her chest. 

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." 

"Surprises, right?" She looked over to him, a crooked grin on her face. (Though it wasn't one he knew her to wear.) 

      "Yeah."

"Mako's surprised to see Asami in that gown - " And it was a nice gown, Tahno mused. It fit in all the right places and - "And my surprise when he tells me it's over. Just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. 

23:22

"Don't worry about him." 

23:30

“I’m hungry.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken the lock.”

“I said I was sorry.”

23:40

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“What were you doing in here?”

Tahno frowned - he really needed to stop doing that - as he thought of the hateful, overpriced, falsely advertised, pencil stick that brought him here.

(But it hadn’t turned out all bad.) 

“What do you think, Uh-vatar?”

“... I feel like it has something to do with the stuff you put on your eyes.” 

23:32

“I could always burn the door down.”

“No.”

“But -”

“No.”

“I thought you wanted out.”

“I do,” Tahno’s voice was curt - he hadn’t moved from his position on the floor and was starting to feel a tad stiff - and he eyed her warily, as if the very moment he took his eyes off of her, she would ignite the room in flames. “However, I would like to leave without this house burning down.”

“Suit yourself.” And she only sounded mildly offended when she shrugged her shoulders. “Priss.”

23:35

“It’s still raining.”

“Yes.”

“...It never rains in the Southern Water Tribe.” She stretched her legs out so that they were parallel to his, her hands resting on her thighs. 

“I hear it’s a desert.” 

“So I’m not use to it.”

“Are you admitting to being scared?” The lack of taunting in his voice surprised her.

“No,” She replied evenly, drawing out the syllable, her arms coming up and over her head, awkwardly stretching before her hands settled back in her lap. “I’m just… not use to it.”

“Okay.”

As if on cue, the roll of thunder - that had quieted down- rumbled, loudly, making her at-ease posture fade quickly as she jumped. Her eyes widened, if only for a moment, frantically scanning the room before locking on his form.

(Honestly?)

“I thought you said -”

“I’m not afraid.” Though the whine in her voice suggested otherwise to him.

He laughed, nudging the tip of his boot against her leg. 

“Okay.” 

(He couldn’t wait to tell Ming and Shaozu about this.)

(Then again…)

(They didn’t need to know, did they?)

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link's deconstruction, 3 years later

This is coming a month too late, but it was sitting half-finished in my drafts, due to little time and then a bombardment with other very intriguing RandL content that distracted me.

Rhett’s deconstruction:

There have been a few things Rhett and Link had said the last months that made me assume they were very slowly returning to their religious foundations or, rather, mellowing down their atheism/ agnosticism. One of them, for example, was Link bringing up Christianity with no significant reason in the Last Meals with Josh. Other examples is that Rhett and Link refer to Christianity more naturally and easily lately, unlike shortly after their original deconstruction, a period during which they avoided religious and especially Christian topics, sometimes with a vibe of internal turmoil at the mere mention of them, especially on Link’s side. Turns out my impression was mostly true although more hesitant than I assumed. To be clear, I consider this a good thing. Yes, a good thing. They still reject steadily toxic teachings found in the gospels. However, they now seem to be making their peace with religion as a concept and are able to explore it more openly and calmly, which means their trauma is healing.

Yes, trauma. While Link's trauma has been easily discernible and not really denied by himself either, Rhett also suffered from trauma, despite his insistence that he gave up Christianity strictly because things did not add up based on science and his logic. Here's the thing: when you give up on something because you realise it's dumb or doesn't make sense, then you don't waste more brainpower on it and you certainly don't have strong feelings because of it anymore. What Rhett described was full of emotional fluctuations: first a stage of outraged atheism, then hopeful abandon, then inquisition, an effort and need to reinterpret, and again to hope. If Rhett gave up on Christianity or religion in general because he thought he wasted 35 years in a dumb and illogical fairytale, then he simply wouldn't have tried to find ways the fairytale can be reinterpreted in one hopefully better - better for Rhett - way a few years later. Because even if Rhett's new interpretation works for him in specific, that doesn't change the fact that it remains a "fairytale" of sorts, that can't be backed by science. Therefore, the whole original statement that Rhett gave up on Christianity because it can't be scientifically proven and contradicts the evolution etc falls apart, and with a bang. This shows Rhett is driven by emotion, hope and his own private circumstances.

It was the first time that Rhett admitted that his alienation from his religion was in parts determined by his own circumstances as a person.

Another way to tell that Rhett too was personally traumatized was the level of abstract vocabulary he uses in this podcast. He used so many long and hard words, and such complicated sentences that I, as a non-native English speaker, had trouble following him in certain parts. He acknowledged at some point that he was speaking in code and vagaries and he needed Link's encouragement and support in a few occasions to speak more clearly and reveal more. So, this shows his emotional investment and turmoil, which does not align with strictly scientific inquiries or simply being an ally to other people. Rhett at some point realised that the religion he was practicing was harmful to himself or to someone he loves a great deal, i.e a family member or a very close friend. Or all that together.

The most interesting part in this EB was when Rhett narrated a recent event he could not explain by logic. Initially, he did not intend to speak about it but it was Link who urged him to, and his encouragement sort of visibly helped the words start rolling off Rhett's tongue. Still, Rhett was being vague enough that I couldn't exactly understand what happened so I will just write down their dialogue and what I understood.

Link: I think you can tell, I mean, just like the general principle of, like uhhh... you know, having someone getting a sense of us, like it was a new friend we made, who was like, a very gifted musician, and was able to translate...uhm... Rhett: He can translate- L: - their experience of a person or us into music improvisationally. R: Yeah. L: And it was... it was extremely moving. R: Very, and also like very specific in shocking ways to the individuals who were present, given the type, like, some of the music he played. L: Right. R: But also there was a moment in which, like, an album cover that had been created a few years ago for a moment that he had planned for in a specific month, while we were all looking at a specific thing. And then he played the music and then showed us the album cover, and it was too much for me to handle. (*barely holds it together*) As Rick Ruben says in another chapter; "There become these things that you, that randomness doesn't provide an adequate explanation for these things, and you eventually sort of acquiesce".

The way Rhett speaks about this incident is as if there were more people experiencing it but Link’s way of phrasing it suggests it was just the three of them or the shocking part was mostly about the two of them. I have trouble understanding Rhett’s borderline incoherent explaining here but I assume the music this musician improvised for him or for both him and Link resembled very much some music that has special significance to Rhett or them both. Furthermore, Rhett talks about a mysterious album cover the musician had created at some point a few years ago and what I understood is that the image in the cover reminded Rhett strongly of something that happened to him or both him and Link around the time the musician was making this cover and Rhett couldn’t handle the coincidence. Anyway, that’s my best shot at it.

What I found a little odd was Rhett’s intent to pursue spirituality as an element of creativity. As in, a concept that the creativity itself is the manifestation of the spirit world / magic / spirituality in general in our mundane world. I will not repeat Rhett’s admission that all this sounds like “new age shit” (sike I just did hehe) but I couldn’t really get to the bottom of his reasoning. It was a little helpful though when in the end they made the seemingly out of place addition that they are now trying to accept the way fans view them (??? they don’t explain what the way is???) and they try to embrace it, by leaving the control and the worries to the employees, while they will just experience what they are receiving in the show. Now, all this together seems pretty disconnected with the themes of spirituality and creativity they were discussing but I have a theory, which might also be some wishful thinking, no objection. I believe what they say is that they come to grips with what their real strength is; the dynamics of their relationship. Instead of getting annoyed at the fans for being so much more interested in this, they choose to accept that there might be some very solid reason behind this. Perhaps they slowly start realising that they are being their most creative when they are their real selves and when they are being candid with each other. Maybe they also realise that instead of being antagonistic towards how their bond translates in their job, they should appreciate it as much as people apparently do. They will let go of worries or image making and experience in the moment, be recipient to all signs between each other and from the viewers, and this will be the road to creative success after all. It is a little wild but I also don’t reject the possibility that Rhett, in his fervour to find meaning and in his determination to receive all the signs of something superior and collective, he starts believing or hoping that their is something fateful about his rare bond with Link. And you know, maybe this ideal spiritual guidance he is in seek of views this bond in a type of positive light that Rhett couldn’t find in Christianity.

Link's deconstruction:

Link's episode starts a little differently, with Link still riding a high from the previous days. He can barely hold his excitement about whatever was so good these days. Sorry for putting this into words, but the way he was exlaiming that his day was so full of great moments "and right now, and right now, and right now, and right now" made this sound like a physical type of happiness. I am not saying this is what happened but it definitely seemed so. Rhett is torn between Link's infectious enthusiasm and a vague discomfort, but he points out that there were apparently multiple happy moments.

To make an already long story short, Link explains he is at the end of his deconstruction. No more turmoil, judgement, concern or analysis. He intends to live his life simply and fully, with love as his guide. And the simple philosophy “if it is good or beautiful or true, do it”.

He decides to live his life inspired by his beloved pets, how they live in simplicity and authenticity. He says he sees himself in Jade. He is inspired by her ability to give and receive love. Interestingly, Jasper inspires him with his "infectious enthusiasm and curiosity" while he also jokes Jasper likes to pee on things a lot, a type of joke in which of course Rhett sneaks in. From Sakka the cat, or however it is spelled, he is inspired to take the sense of finding your center, of being yourself and setting healthy boundaries to relationships. Link brings up both Christy and Rhett in this case.

Link is so tender, passionate and intense in his expression of adoration for his dogs that you can see Rhett being both amused but also half-melt on the spot.

Link then sort of reinforces what Rhett had been saying in his own episode, not way more coherently either though. He too connects a sense of spirituality in what they do and explains how they only recently started realising how their work has been healing to people. He decribes how they always strived for something ambitious without realising they had always been telling a story simply through who they were, how they evolved and what they chose to do. Here's an interesting part from Link's speech:

Link: So I think when I look at our work, I've just been able to see it with fresh eyes and it was just kind of coincidental that it happened. It wasn't planned. I just feel very fortunate that it happened. And I don't believe that it's just a - well, it is a reflection of who we are but it's more than that. Is there something else going on here? Is there something else at work? We didn't do it on purpose. Maybe so. I am open to that, you know? I kind of lean towards that being the conclusion, that there's something else at work here. You know, I hope it doesn't sound like I'm building us up as something awesome. Again, I think this is really just a conversation for me and you. If people, anybody listening-

Rhett: (half-joking, half serious) So we shouldn't release this?

Link: Well, they can do whatever they want with it. So I am hoping that people don't think of it as "Oh my God, these guys think they are saviours". I just feel that when you find that you're... - me being me and not being what I am not is a sweet spot. Only I can be me and I can let go of the things that aren't me. Some of which are you, by the way, so it's a great partnership.

I would say, they don't think they are saviours, but they do think that whatever it is that has happened with or to them (and about which they do not talk about, otherwise this podcast wouldn't need 17 academic decoders on average each time) is special and rare, and a story that perhaps should be told.

"I need to dance like nobody's watching. I need to feel the rain on my skin", Link says. Rhett shifts with a low sound, a litte affected by this.

Then something beautiful Rhett says: "I hear what you are saying and then the way that I work, me being myself is hearing the things that you are saying and synthesizing it and creating a way of expressing it, and thinking about it. That's how I sort of latch onto things and carry them forward for me personally. " That's kinda to show the tremendous impact Link has in Rhett's brain and expression as well, because many people tend to think the impact is one-sided. It is not. If you watch Rhett and Link since their beginnings and the stuff they did prior to 2012, it is unbelievable how much they have changed and grown as people, together. And it is clear Rhett's change was responsive to Link's change. I think what Rhett also explains here also explains the process behind some of their biggest projects like TLCOBC or Hazel. Rhett listens to Link and then tries to express it through art.

Much like everything they say in these two episodes, Rhett says something very vague that however gets a very enthusiastic reaction from Link. Rhett says how he's a person who wants to "understand", analyze, explain, exhaust and defend every new experience he is having but he sees how perhaps the right way forward is to just leave things unfold naturally without "editing" or "processing" them too much. Link agrees animatedly to this very vague statement, like he understood the full underlying point. However, even without being sure what this was about, I have a feeling Rhett soon retracted on this impulsive decision of the moment.

Link wraps this up by stressing again that this might be the happiest phase of his life. He's not willing to elaborate on this at all but he says it again and again. Rhett is not inquisitive at all and apparently he knows what Link is talking about. But he doesn't ask or comment on it, except to say he's happy to be here for it. Rhett does not make equivalent statements, though perhaps it would be a tad suspicious if he did. In any case, we can't know what 's the phase Rhett's been going through.