#another change that she would have to adapt to that would be hard for her at first... getting sick so quickly and so violently...
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on top of everything else that being exploded and then doused in radiation would probably do to you, sometimes i ponder about how solaris would get by post the death engine incident and think about general health... the sort of stuff that most would consider very basic, or mild.
typically, those who suffer from either bone targeted radiation or full body radiation are incredibly likely to have a very weakened immune system. and i wonder how that must affect solaris' day to day life... inside of zoraxis and out.
does zor have good health insurance? honestly, a part of me doubts it. does she get paid sick leave? i'm not sure how efficient she would be coming into work looking like death warmed over... and how must she be faring post quitting? she lives in the mountains, now... it's cold up there... and if she gets sick all the way up there, there's no one to take care of her but herself
#ieytd#commander solaris#okay i got my pizza. yay. post time.#idk its something else i think about a lot#another change that she would have to adapt to that would be hard for her at first... getting sick so quickly and so violently...#its so... *lame*. catching a cold isn't scary... it isn't threatening...#i guess this would apply to phoenix too but this isn't abt them
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from pregnancy freak to postpartum freak — satoru finds himself in a tough spot while your body is recovering from giving birth to his child. he tries to be patient but motherhood looks so beautiful on you… and unfortunately, after you’re ready to have him again, there seems to be another little issue — one that likes to cry and disrupt the moment satoru has been longing for
MDNI, established relationship, f!reader (she/her), pregnancy and postpartum, you have a beautiful baby daughter, mentions of breastfeeding and satoru being really really weird about it, mentions of male masturbation, somno if you squint really hard (just to be safe), pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart), nothing too explicit going on here tbf, but there’s a sweet little hint of a potential breeding sesh at the end, not proofread, wc: 1.8k+

your husband (gojo satoru) and you have always had a marvelous sex life, one that would naturally induce a sense of envy in anyone who came to know of it, accidentally or not — the walls were thin, but sometimes it was the mouth of your husband that was too big.
but in all honesty, there has never been a day in which you didn’t desire each other carnally, even after so many years.
you thought, maybe, this might change after he knocked you up with a baby — you had read a handful of articles on the topic and how some men become more distant during that sensitive timeframe — but as it turns out, you could not have been more wrong. either those magazines sucked or your husband was some sort of mutation. maybe, it was both.
your pregnancy could be, in fact, easily considered the peak of your sex life — that round belly of yours really did a number on him, as well as on you. well, with you it was the hormonal changes your body was going through that made you so borderline sexually insatiable, and the mood to bounce on him would strike you more often than ever. at some point, your sex drive went off the roof — you’d ask him to fuck you multiple times a day and satoru couldn’t be more fortunate — he’d drop everything and oblige in an instant, like that was all he had been waiting for, which was not so far from the truth. it was safe to say that you enabled the freak in him, and he was grateful.
“thank god… i don’t know how else i could survive those 9 months with you glowing like this, becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day”, he’d say to you every time you pressed and rubbed your ass against his cock in the middle of the night, not so innocently waking him up because you had a craving.
you had a lot of sex, but he was always careful with your aches and pains, no quirky positions until the baby was born — your physique didn’t allow it as the pregnancy progressed anyway. but the passion was always there, undeniably so, growing along with you.
but things changed after you went into labor and your daughter was born. the perfect little angel, his and his baby’s baby. satoru has never been happier.
to be honest, he didn’t think about sex at all in the beginning. he was on cloud nine, overjoyed. every second of his day was spent exploring this new light in his life and taking care of the both of you.
after you got discharged from the hospital, he took it upon himself to look after the house and deal with the chores — he handled the cooking, he washed the dishes, cleaned, did the laundry and everything else that needed to be done — while you were healing and navigating through motherhood. he helped you nurse your daughter, there wasn’t a single night where he didn’t wake up along with you whenever the baby needed feeding or randomly started crying.
but soon enough, after he adapted to this new pace, his sex drive started showing signs of its return. it came back strong — in fact, stronger than ever, and once again it was none other than you to blame for it.
…because, being a mother looked so good on you.
you have been his wife for years. but now, you are the mother of his child, and that is a title that somehow makes you his even more than ever. it is so permanent. because, even if you leave him one day — which you never would since he would simply never allow it — being the mother of his child will always tie you to him, he will always have a place in your life. that’s it, you just made it impossible for yourself to run away from him. like it or not, you will be his eternally and irrevocably.
he liked watching you be a mother and couldn’t help but get bricked up each time you held your daughter close to your chest, revealing your breast and holding it to her mouth in order to feed her.
was this normal? to get this hard? now of all times? — he didn’t know, and honestly, he didn’t bother finding out. because, when was he ever normal about you to begin with?
all he wanted to do in those moments was pin you down and fuck himself into you. you could see it in his eyes and in his bulge that he was trying to readjust.
“don’t try anything funny in front of the baby”
“i would never — i am simply watching and engraving this scene into my mind, for later”
‘for later’ obviously meant when he was jerking off.
the doctor said “no sexual intercourse for six weeks”
your body needed time to heal after giving birth, and that was only natural. and it was okay.
but it didn’t mean it wasn’t arduous for him. he had to watch you day and night without being able to touch you in ways he wanted to.
and now it’s been two months. two whole months without him laying a finger on you. his urges were back with full force, but yours? not really.
sure, you cuddled plenty while the baby was sleeping, which made it even harder for him. but you never got sexually intimate after you gave birth. he was well aware that you needed more time, that your body was still not ready, that you were exhausted physically and mentally because, once again, you were going through all these changes — because of him.
he understood that. but still, he missed you so much.
he’d jerk off whenever he got the chance, more than once a day, in fact. religiously so in the shower, it was a must — or else he would find it more difficult to manage himself around you.
sometimes he’d watch you breastfeed the baby and secretly sneak into the bathroom midway through it to rub one out, because if he didn’t — he’d bust right then and there. but can you blame him? you looked so maternal, so ungodly and unapologetically beautiful. the way you hissed whenever the baby sucked too hard on your nipple made him wish it was him dragging those sounds out of you…
fuck. he was becoming a freak again.
there were nights when he would wake up, as hard as a rock, and watch you sleep while fisting himself in the spot next to you in bed. he would be careful not to wake you when pushing the cleavage of your gown down, just enough to take your breasts out. he’d peck you softly on the nipples and that would inevitably and always lead to him uncontrollably unloading himself inside his palm. sometimes he would make a mess of the bedsheets, other times — of your nightgown.
“shit— if simply touching your skin does this to me, then i don’t want to think what will happen to me the second i slide it in”, he’d curse under his nose while washing off in the bathroom. “fuck. i miss you, baby”, he’d brush a hand over his face. “look what you made of me…”, and he would get hard all over again, just because for a split second he thought of being inside you.
luckily, you soon started dropping subtle hints of desiring him — initiating longer morning kisses, biting your lower lip and giving him the look whenever he walked out of the shower, saying his name in that same sweet voice with an undertone of fake innocence you would use in the past every time you wanted him to do things to you, rubbing his chest as you cuddled in bed or on the couch, sometimes your hand would slide a bit lower down his abdomen… but, that was it.
satoru never saw past the pearly gates, because his sweet angel of a baby would always start crying in the most inappropriate of times, as if on purpose.
“you go — i don’t want to face my daughter with a boner”, he’d whine, and you’d chuckle.
he loved his daughter more than anything, but he was genuinely bummed out and he had to do something about it.
one afternoon, after you fed the baby and left her in the care of your husband to go and take a shower, satoru put his daughter in the crib and leaned over with a serious expression of a parent about to lecture their misbehaving kid.
“listen, little miss, because we have a problem”
the baby chuckles in response.
“…and apparently, you know it”, satoru snorts. “but listen here, i know you love mama and you want her all to yourself. but what about papa?”, he pouts. “papa loves her too and wants her all to himself, at least once a day, but you’re not giving him a chance here. it’s not like i am asking for an entire day, just stay put for 15 minutes — 15 minutes is all i am asking for. deal?”
his daughter lets out another sweet chuckle.
“i’ll take that as a yes”, he caresses her cheek before leaving the room with the baby monitor in hand to join you in the shower.
finally. it was happening.
he stripped out of his clothes and walked into the bathroom, placing the baby monitor on the sink countertop before stepping into the shower cabin, letting the hot stream wash down his body as he reached for you.
“hello, beautiful”
“oh—“, you jolt. “you’re here? but what about the ba—"
“shh—“, he puts a finger on your lips, his free hand snaking around your waist to pull you close. “don’t worry, she’s fine. if something happens, we’ll know it from the baby monitor — so just relax”
you smile against his fingertip and softly peck it before sucking it in between your lips. his cock, already hard and squished between your naked bodies, throbs with a powerful twitch. a low growl rolls out of his mouth.
“god… i’ve missed you so much”, his hips involuntarily push against you, a desperate attempt to seek more friction by humping himself on your stomach. with how starved he was for you, he could probably finish just from this. but he wanted to take it slow and savor every second.
“it’s been so long, isn’t it?”
he nods. “i thought i was going to die”
you laugh. “you’re exaggerating”
“i am not… i never thought our tiny little angel could be such a huge devilish cockblock”
“you shouldn’t speak like that about our kid”, you snort.
“but it’s true. she’s a sly one, and obviously she’s obsessed with you”, he pouts.
“i wonder who she took it from…”
“she’s going to cause me a lot of trouble, isn’t she? but maybe, if we gave her a friend, she wouldn’t feel as lonely. maybe then, we’d get to have more alone time — like this. what do you think?”
“she’s too young for a pet, satoru. you know that”
he laughs. “i didn’t mean a pet, sweetheart. but we can get that too at some point”

#ઈઉ — ai writes#[ ♡ ] — satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader
él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.
summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?
wc: 975
warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.
A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.


now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta
The fight was stupid, really.
You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment.
After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday.
Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander.
If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off.
You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was.
For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears.
You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more.
To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing.
“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation.
That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder.
Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.
And you wondered if you would ever be again.
The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship.
Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory.
[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ]
[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ]
You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi.
“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied.
He hadn’t even read it.
Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home.
You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe.
“I’m sorry.”
Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies.
Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this.
Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you.
“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs.
“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly.
“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been.
“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly.
“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting.
“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug.
“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.”
Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.
A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip
#𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham angst#football x reader#football blurb#football fic
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Jason is a Teenage Dad Part 5
(So this part might be a bit wonky in some places, I did write a portion of this while in the hospital on pain meds so.)
Keeping the family business from Danny? Yeah that didn’t happen. The child could go ghost whenever he wanted and use his invisibility to sneak around the manor. He knew about the Batcave and how everyone else in the house was connected. What impressed Jason the most is that he didn’t need to ask any questions to understand what was going on. He had met Babs, Cass and Steph and immediately knew who they were. He knew Jason used to be Robin. He knew Tim was Robin now.
It had only been 4 years and Danny had improved so much. His flashbacks had toned down significantly and he was running around like a normal 7 year old. Well as normal as a half ghost 7 year old who used to be 15 with ghost powers could be. He adapted well.
Things were changing in the household constantly, people coming and going from the house whenever needed. Jazz Sam and Tucker only stayed in the manor half of the time, having the Manson estate that the three of them also shared. Steph on the other hand, was living with them full time. She had gotten pregnant by her boyfriend who dumped her after finding out. According to Steph, she wasn’t planning on telling anyone except Tim but Clockwork had left her a note telling her move in with Bruce and that he would handle everything else.
Clockwork did that sometimes. Like with Cass. She had gotten one of his post it notes one day and it had spooked her enough to turn around instead of following her orders. She had gotten another one when she was saving Commissioner Gordon, telling her to let Batman take her in. Not all of the notes were on big things. Sometimes they would get one just because. The latest one Jason got was telling him to remind Sam to eat lunch. It was almost as if the family had gained an all seeing, overpowered, ancient being uncle.
Ever since learning about Danny’s halfa status and his own…. whatever he was? It’s hard to pinpoint. He wasn’t exactly a revenant, didn’t fit the requirements of a liminal and didn’t possess the full capabilities of a halfa. But he was still some sort of ecto based being. Tucker had taken it upon himself to try to give it a name. The closest thing Tuck had suggested so far was a zombie but that was flimsy at best. Anyways, after learning the truth, Jason was doing his best to provide for the slightly different needs of himself and Danny as ecto beings.
Bruce had been nice enough to let them put their graves in the Wayne family cemetery. Since Jason hadn’t been dead for very long before he came back so Bruce had never had the time to give him one. And Danny had gone far too long without one according to Jazz. It means a lot to the dead to be honored with a grave, even if they themselves weren’t in it. Bruce had let Jason and Danny design a mausoleum for their name stones to be in. With compartments as if their bodies were in there and everything. Jason tended to just store things in his while Danny sometimes felt better to sleep in his. Jason admitted, being near his grave made him feel better but he was far too big in the shoulders to fit in the compartment. Danny and Jason designed the structure to fit up to 6 bodies, incase anyone wanted to be buried with them in the future.
Jason also started working with the JL to try and dissolve the Anti-ecto Acts. The SCP Foundation was fighting against it hard. Apparently, they saw ecto beings as SCPs that should be under their jurisdiction. Danny’s friends were helping out the case together. Since ecto beings were technically under the rule of their own government. Apparantly JLD was cooking up something so the Ghost King could get involved personally with the help of Sam and Tucker who were on good terms with the guy.
The ambient ecto in Gotham was enough to live off of so it wasn’t too bad but others like them that didn’t live in high ecto areas like Gotham or Amity Park didn’t deserve to not have access to ecto and even more didn’t deserve to hide who they were in order to survive. The ecto in Gotham wasn’t as pure as Jazz said Danny used to work with in Amity and the purer the ecto, the better for the environment and their health.
Danny was turning out to be the little genius. Jason knew that he could still remember things from before he was de aged and apparently, he had a lot of experience with mechanical engineering. He was working with Tim and Tucker to try and develop a filtration system of sorts to clean the ecto in Gotham. At first, Jason wasn’t so sure about leaving Danny all by himself on the lab. He was only seven after all. But after talking to Jazz about it… he was concerned about other things.
“Well I love his enthusiasm and these blueprints look… oddly professional but he’s only just a kid and if something goes wrong and no one is in the lab with him…” Jason said, sipping his coffee. He wasn’t lying, Danny couldn’t draw artistically to save his life but the moment he needed to draw a blueprint he was suddenly DaVinci.
Jazz who stayed at the manor almost exclusively except for nights where her work took her to a part of town that was closer to Sam and Tucker’s place and it was too late to drive all the way home, looked at the blueprints over Jason’s shoulder while she headed to the kitchen to pour herself her own coffee. “Looks like he never lost that talent of his. Danny could build anything he put his mind to back then. He was even more talented than Mom and Dad. It was too bad that he was always so busy being Phantom that he never got to… well you know… spend time on the things he liked.”
And with that, Jason watched as she walked away to the kitchen. Jason and Jazz were friends. Very good friends. Maybe even best friends. Well… something like that at least. She was nice enough and helped him raise Danny as a mother figure and the two of them hung out a lot. Her room was next to Jason’s so she could be close to Danny but most nights she just crashed in his room. He had an extra bed for her and it was easier to switch out who got up if Danny had an episode in the middle of the night. The two of them had talked about it. It wasn’t like Jason was blind, he knew she was very pretty but he didn’t feel any attraction toward her that went past platonic. She had said she felt the same way and the two of them agreed it would be too weird anyways since he was her brother’s dad. Not many really understood their dynamic but that was okay. It worked for them and Danny.
Jazz came back from the kitchen with a mug of coffee and the coffee pot. She filled Jason’s since it was low and he nodded in thanks. He had told her countless times that Alfred preferred to do that stuff himself but honestly this was just their routine in the morning now. He would get coffee and then she would join him, stealing the coffee pot until they were done with it and it was time to wake Danny for the day.
“I know that… but I don’t know… I worry,” Jason said. He knew it wasn’t a logical fear that he would get hurt. Halfas didn’t get hurt because of mortal causes like metal or, well, a stab wound. Jason may or may not have tested it on himself and sure enough he was also pretty immune. Just needed some ecto and it healed right up with no pain like it never happened.
Jazz just smiled softly, “I know you want him to have a normal childhood. As much as we can give him. But given both of our pasts, I’d say we are far past that. All that matters now is that he gets to experience the things he never got to the first time around.” She was right of course, sipping her coffee lazily.
“Okay yeah… in this family I have seen kids to weirder things. Once we wake up our star for the day, we can tell him he can build his machine. I would just prefer that he had someone with him while he tinkered,” Jason responded. When it came to things like this, he knew that Jazz knew Danny better than he did. She knew him before he was deaged and knew what kinds of things he missed out on.
She smiled at Jason, “You are a good dad Jason. I can see your self doubt in your eyebrows. You are doing just fine.” She rubbed his back comfortingly while the two of them looked at one another, Jason acknowledging that she’s right and that he needed that, Jazz acknowledging his need for comfort. After the moment passed, Jazz left to wake up their little star.
“Well then,” Jason turned his head to see Stephanie indulging in her peanut butter and oreos craving. She was standing next to Tim who had just stolen the coffee pot for himself.
“What now,” Jason asked.
“I just don’t get it is all. She likes you and you like her. And yet you refuse to fuck!” Stephanie shrugged as she shoved more cookie into her face.
Jason simply gestured toward her belly, “I don’t think you get room to talk right now.”
Tim spit out his coffee laughing.
…
Tim was at the Batcomputer looking over the next case he and B were gonna looking into. It was fun and all but he almost felt like he needed more of a challenge… like… something to do. School was too easy and he ahead already finished the work for the rest of the year. He was even considering starting next year’s work but he was going to have to ask Babs or Tucker to hack to the system into letting his online course end early so he can start the next ones. He could do it himself but he was going to be busy on patrol tonight.
As of right now though? He was playing babysitter so Danny could nerd out on his ecto machine. The “lab” Danny asked for was just a small corner of the Batcave that Danny had set up with an almost kitchen like feel except instead of an island in the center, it was a hunk of metal pieces fused together that made weird noises sometimes. Tim understood the bare bones of what Danny was building, it was a typical filtration system but how it was supposed work with ecto? Not Tim’s area of expertise. He was just there so that if Danny needed help or if something happened, he could call Jason. Nothing had ever happened before and Danny was fully capable of handling it all by himself but it was mostly so Jason wouldn’t have a heart attack.
Tim was pulled out of his thoughts when her heard a swoosh next to his head. “Danny, what did we say about flying in the cave?”
He watched and Danny became visible, his head poking out from behind the massive screen, “Give a warning and don’t touch anything that’s not mine…” Danny said, pouting, “But I have something to tell you Tim!”
Tim thought about this for a moment. Knowing Danny, it was either something interesting, what category of interesting was yet to be seen but Danny wasn’t like normal kids that said things that had no meaning. He could hear Danny out. Now was there a large chance that something very concerning about his past life was about to come up that he couldn’t share with Jason lest his brother have an aneurysm. Tim was willing to roll those dice.
“Okay Spooky, what’s up?” he said.
Danny clapped happily, phasing through the computer to fly right up to Tim’s face, “Stephanie needs your spleen!”
Well… not what Tim was expecting. But it was worth asking about further. At the very least he wanted to know what this child had to say about it before coming to his own conclusions.
“Elaborate?”
Danny laughed, unnervingly happy about this whole thing, “I asked this doctor ghost I know to watch over Stephanie for me! He’s very nice! Told me about how he used to treat Grand-B when he was sick before he died! Anyways, he told me all about Stephanie’s condition and he says that even though most people can live without a spleen, Steph’s blood is kind of weird so living without one isn’t possible for her. She’s having her baby right now upstairs and even though the ghost doctor said that she will okay after giving birth for now, her spleen will eventually finish necrotizing and once enough of it is gone, she will probably die which sucks because she’s going to be a cool mom. Anyways, you’re the only one in the house that is enough of a match that can save her and can also live without your spleen because you’re really healthy! It’ll be super easy though since I’m a ghost, I can do it super quick. Steph might be more liminal after and her eyes might glow sometimes, but that’s okay!”
Tim jumped out of his seat, “She’s having her baby RIGHT NOW?!”
Danny nodded smiling, “Yes! Upstairs! She went into labor really fast so she didn’t have time to go to the hospital.”
Tim shook his head, running toward to the stairs, “Priorities Danny! I promised her I’de be there!” Tim ran as fast as he could into the manor and through the halls.
“Is it because you like her?” Danny asked while flying along side him.
Tim scoffed, “Danny, my wildly inappropriate crush on who’s practically my sister has nothing to do with this!”
Danny’s smile never left his face as he kept flying along at Tim’s side, “It’s okay, I know you like boys too so you can just get a boyfriend and get over her!”
Tim almost halted in his steps but he didn’t, “Danny! Not the time!”
Danny laughed in that spooky way he did sometimes, “Okay!”
Tim kicked Stephanie’s door open and ran to her side, holding her hand, “I’m here! I’m here!”
Steph shot him a glare as she immediately began to squeeze his fingers, “You are late Timothy.”
Tim apologized as the blond began screaming in pain. The only one in the room besides the two of them was Alfred who had decided to deliver the baby himself. Was there anything that guy didn’t know how to do? Steph didn’t seem to be on any pain meds or any sort of epidural so she was muscling her way through this like the women of old, and she was handling it pretty well even though she was screaming bloody murder.
Tim tried his best to be as supportive as possible, telling her to breathe and ignoring her as she cursed him out repeatedly for telling her what to do. She squeezed his fingers tighter than Tim thought was humanly possible, to the point where they actually went numb as she pushed over and over.
There was no doubt that the entire household was just outside the door waiting for news on the baby’s arrival. The birth seemed to take forever as she kept pushing. Tim had read about how sometimes births could take a while so he wasn’t concerned about that, but he was very concerned about how the longer Stephanie pushed, the more color seemed to drain from her face. She looked as though she was starting to lose consciousness, probably from the pain.
Finally, Tim heard the cry of an infant. The baby was born. Tim looked away as Alfred did what he needed to do to prepare the baby for being held and made sure Stephanie didn’t have any tears or bleeding. He felt as she finally let go of his hand. As the feeling came back to his fingers, he was hit with the realization that she had broken 3 of them.
Once Alfred said everything was covered, Tim looked to Stephanie once again, She was covered in sweat and there was almost no color in her face. It was almost deathly pale, making Tim very concerned. He could see her starting to dip out of consciousness. Was that normal? He took her hand again wit h his unbroken one and tried to get a response from her. He didn’t get it.
“Alfred, I think something is wrong,” Tim said, looking to the butler.
“The Ghost Doctor says that she will be okay, she’s just in shock from the pain. But he also says that her immune system is really weak right now and since we aren’t in a hospital, she has a high chance of getting sick,” Tim heard Danny’s voice say as the boy appeared at the foot of the bed.
“Is there anything that can be done about this Young Master Danny?” Alfred said as he finished cleaning the baby and wrapped it into a blanket.
The seven year old nodded, “Ghost Doctor says that if I help, she will stabilize. I think I should take Tim’s spleen now too.”
Tim just nodded. It wasn’t the craziest thing he’s ever heard. This was the Wayne family. Shit was always crazy.
By the early hours of the morning, Stephanie was happily holding her baby girl that she had named Kore. Jason and Jazz were scolding Danny for not sharing information with them but also telling him how proud they were for helping. Bruce was breathing for the first time in hours. Cass was wrapping up Tim’s fingers. Tucker and Sam were on their way to greet the newest addition to the family. And Tim? Had never been happier to lose a spleen.
Part 4 Part 6
#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#dc x dp crossover#dcxdp#batfam#dad jason#danny fenton#dead joker#Tim loses his spleen#stephanie brown#mom steph#jason is a teenage dad
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The Mighty Nein: Weird Coincidences.
I've been compiling these here and there when I've had time, but there was a particular reason I wanted to get this post out of the way now. And it's this.
There's been some nervousness surrounding this, and I'm of two minds about it. On the one hand, people overstate just how hard the Nein's story would be to adapt and how much it would need to be changed for another medium. Can it be one-to-one with the original? Absolutely not. (Just as TLOVM couldn't be one-to-one either.) But the main issue is editing; the content is fine on its own.
And if this is the CRew themselves thinking the same thing, that's a little troubling, because it makes it sound like they might be changing more than they need to out of that unfounded fear.
On the other hand, all they might be talking about here is hindsight. The Mighty Nein's Campaign had a lot of strange coincidences, fortuitous thematic consistencies, and one-of-a-kind moments. The CRew is poised to reap the benefits of having these in mind ahead of time. This allows for some remarkable set-up and payoff if those involved are up to the challenge. Which, in the end, could be all they might be augmenting the story to do.
So maybe it's a good time to get into those weird coincidences, huh?
(Spoilers for basically all of Campaign 2 below the cut.)
Names
Veth Brenatto, her alias Bren, and Caleb’s original name: Bren. (This may have been inspired by the German word "Brennen", which means “to burn”. Thanks Liam.)
Fjord Stone. Cad’s families: Clay, Dust and Stone. How the Wild Mother fits the story of an orphaned sailor like a glove. And how Cad, his family history, and likely the Wild Mother herself never would’ve entered the story if Molly hadn’t died.
A Mollymawk (spelled with a w instead of a u) is a type of albatross. Albatrosses are supposed to be unlucky, but only if you kill one. Per the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, everything goes to shit after a sailor kills an albatross. Molly’s death is just as unlucky, as it paves the way for Lucien's and Cognouza’s return. (In a meta sense, it’s also unfortunate for Matt and Taliesin, as it derails whatever plans they might have had for the character.)
Nine
Whelp.
Nine. Lots and lots of nines. And while Nein doesn’t mean nine in German/Zemnian (it means no), the wordplay works.
Nine schools of magic.
Nine people killed in Obann’s attack on the Cobalt Soul in Zadash.
The three titans (Uk’otoa, Quajath, and Desirat) collectively have nine eyes and nine crystals to unlock them and set them all free.
Nine hells.
Nine betrayer gods as of Vecna’s ascension.
Nine eye tattoos on Molly, each a mark of the Somnovem, the sleeping nine.
And of course, eventually, nine members of the Mighty Nein.
(Just for fun, Tharizdun’s sacred number in its premier in Greyhawk was 333. [3+3+3=?].)
Nein and its actual meaning work thematically as well. The Nein repeatedly clashes with forces and entities that want to mold them against their will into vessels they can use for their own purposes. And the group repeatedly says “Nein!” to that.
Tarot Readings
Molly deliberately pulls specific cards for his readings. Taliesin makes that explicit. However, some folks have pointed out that you can interpret his original reading for Jester where he tells her “You’ve already found what you’re looking for,” to be true in a few different ways. (She’s already found the people who will help her find her father. She’s discovered the company she sought that she only ever had with her Mamma and the Traveler prior, etc.)
But once we get to Jester’s readings, things really pop off. (Pop-pop off?)
Fjord's Reading
In episode 110, Jester draws two cards for Fjord: one for his present and one for his future. His present card is the Eye, which has two hands holding an eye above a restless sea.
There’s no need to elaborate on how that relates to Fjord’s then-present.
His future card is the Home And Traveler. This card could work for all the Nein if you interpret it as someone who will find or reach their home after some travel. But it hits especially hard for Fjord, who finds a home with Jester, the devotee of the Traveler, on a ship that travels up and down the coast.
And then...
Lucien's Reading
The three cards Jester pulls for Lucien are his past, present, and future. Even at the time, they seem pretty fitting.
His past: History and a Dream, which Taliesin clarifies as depicting the Calamity. This fits perfectly with the Tomb Takers’ previous job for DeRogna and their coming into the Somnovem’s patronage.
His present: the Tyrant. We don’t know either Lucien or his goals too well at this point, but we do know he and his troupe kill indiscriminately and he holds an unnatural sway over the other Tomb Takers.
His future: the Death Card. You can attribute that to the upcoming fight between him and the Nein.
But in hindsight...whoo boy. In hindsight, not only do we know of Lucien’s plans to dispatch the Somnovem and become the Tyrant king of Cognouza and all its lost, broken souls, but we know of his fall. More specifically, who he falls to.
Jester, sitting across from him, pulls his last card and tells him “Facing you is Death.”
And then it’s Miss Lavorre who ends him for good.
Divine Intervention
Generally, a Divine Intervention is a Hail Mary. You roll a d100 (or an equivalent combination of dice) and only if you roll a number below your level do you trigger it. Logically, this gets easier the higher your level gets, but you can’t rely on it until level 20.
Taliesin rolls three of these for Cad in the last quarter of the Campaign. And that’s cool enough. But what’s even better is the Wild Mother’s Grave Cleric rolls successfully for Divine Intervention every time he makes a request (knowingly or not) relating to Cognouza. The city that's coming to swallow Melora's Exandria whole.
The first successful roll comes when Cad seeks info about Vokodo, the pseudo-god of the island of Rumblecusp. Vokodo, it turns out, punched a hole through the Astral Plane to escape the hunger of the lost ward of Aeor. And upon its death, it gives a vision that sets the Nein on Lucien’s trail.
The second success comes when the Nein is attempting to uncover the Tomb Takers' secret entrance to Aeor so that they can use it to set a trap. Cad’s success tells them exactly where they need to go. This allows them to get Zoran, Otis, and Tyffial out of the way early, even if it doesn’t stop Cree and Lucien from continuing towards the city.
As for the third, well...we all know what the third does. That it prevails after Critical Role’s first Resurrection Ritual failure, (due to a natural 1 no less!) is just the icing on the cake.
Caduceus even makes the point that Cognouza had functionally become a corpse that was unable to die and that he was uniquely called upon, given his family’s business, to put it down for good.
Odds and Ends
Nott distracts a Manticore from killing Fjord by killing its baby. Her own child ends up in need of a resurrection later on in the story, during their trip to the Fire Plane. Speaking of which, a painting of said Plane can be observed in Trent's house. You know, the one he would end up chasing the Nein to?
Fjord loses his chance to break the first seal to Avantika; he lands the first attack on her Revenant incarnation when the Nein catches up to her after she escapes with his orb, and he gets the final blow on her there, recovering said orb as he does.
Yasha and Caleb are the most susceptible to the Succubus/Incubus mind control. In the former's case, this could be chalked up to her low Wisdom score...but it also serves as some neat accidental foreshadowing for her time with Obann. And for Caleb, it can be a callback to his time learning under Trent.
The Circus Kids' stories sync up perfectly. Both of their bodies end up puppeteered by someone from their respective pasts. Both of them are used to try to end the world. And, probably once Matt noticed this synchronicity himself, both are revealed to have fallen under the sway of the Chained Oblivion. And their stories didn't have to go this way. Molly didn't have to die, and Matt revealed that Yasha could've theoretically made that wisdom save against Obann's control in the King's Cage. But that's not how things turned out.
Accidental foreshadowing:
Episode 19, Molly and Yasha, after acquiring an item from an Orc hermit living somewhat off the side of the road:
Molly: We made a friend. Jester: Did you kill someone for that? Molly: Yes. Yasha: He’s dead. Molly: He’s very dead. And then he rose up from the grave again and we had to kill him again. Twice. Same man.
Also, in episode 23, after meeting the Syphilis Bandits again and leaving one of them out cold:
Jester: What if we put some flowers in his hair; so when he wakes up, he looks really pretty? Beau: That’s good. Let’s do that. Molly: There’s nothing better than waking up in the morning with no pants and flowers in your hair.
In episode 48, Yussa and Caleb have a conversation:
Caleb: Sometimes I follow my friends places I shouldn’t. Yussa: That might someday get you killed. Or may one day get you what you seek.
Following a certain Tiefling up to Eiselcross got him both.
Nott also asks Caleb in this episode if he has an eye on his forehead. This is probably a callback/joke about Scanlan’s blessing from Ioun, but it foreshadows what happens to Veth much later.
Episode 49, about Ludinus Da’leth and in particular, Vess DeRogna:
Fjord: Then we kill the two elves. Jester: Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Maybe we go up into their room at night or something and just, you know... Stabby stab.
Episode 70:
Jester (to Essek): Maybe you’ll like us so much you’ll just hang out.
Dramatic Irony:
Everything the Nein say about Molly after his death and at his grave is, in hindsight, an awful twist of the knife, as his body's former life is far from finished with him.
Episode 41. The Nein learns Orly can make magic tattoos. Beau talks about getting an eye tattoo on her back to mirror Molly’s:
Jester: I mean, I don’t know, maybe it was really sacred to him and he would be really super offended by it. Beau: Oh, yeah, maybe it would, like I stole it from him? Jester: But it’s fine, I’m sure. Beau: Yeah, you know, he’s dead, so, what’s he going to do?
Almost a hundred episodes later, Beau's new tattoo gets a little addition...
Episode 65
Jester: Are you nervous? Yasha: Yeah. Yeah, I’m nervous. I just don’t know what we’re walking into, you know? Jester: Yeah. We’ve got your back though. That guy isn’t going to do anything bad to you.
Episode 91
Veth asks Essek at dinner if he’s heard of a Nonagon, or someone named Lucien. Essek says he hasn’t. This won't be the case for long.
Episode 95
Jester, talking about Cad and the Wild Mother:
Jester: Yeah. So like, when he asks her questions, you know what she does? Artagan: “Nothing?” Jester: She blows the wind. Exactly, she does shit. So and he’s like, “I sensed, you know, I understand what she’s saying.” She’s not doing anything, but he thinks she is.
This commentary is particularly delicious, considering which Cleric's Divine Interventions end up working.
And there's probably some I've missed! These are just the little bits and pieces I jotted down during a rewatch. It wouldn't surprise me if there's more.
But that's to say, just what we've got here is a monumental amount of things to build off of and play with. The Mighty Nein's animated series has the potential to be something extraordinary if the CRew can make use of all these little gifts deftly and with subtlety. There's power and potential here, and I am nervous as hell about whether or not they can tap into it successfully.
#critical role#travis willingham#taliesin jaffe#liam o'brien#ashley johnson#marisha ray#sam riegel#laura baily#matt mercer#critical role campaign 2#campaign 2#the mighty nein#caleb widogast#veth brenatto#jester lavorre#nott the brave#caduceus clay#mollymauk tealeaf#fjord stone#beauregard lionett#yasha nydoorin#essek thelyss#cr2 spoilers#c2 spoilers#the mighty nein animated#animated#critical role meta#campaign 2 spoilers#critical role campaign 2 spoilers#tm9
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Your name is Nepeta Maryam.
You hail from a vengeful bloodline. You’re well aware of your ancestor and how much shit she ended up causing for the empire. The caverns she escaped from eons ago is your former prison. Former because on this night 9 sweeps ago you became a free troll, escaping and taking some of the most valued treasures from Alternia’s history with you. Your cloister was meant to guard them for when the pretentious bitch became leader. Something you didn’t care to let happen, you had places to go and a massive fucking mess to leave in your wake for having been locked into the damp and cold caverns.
Your escape wasn’t all easy though. Your cerulean friend, or rather partner in disaster, made a few blunders getting you out. He lost a finger and you lost your life. It’s all water under the bridge though, he was with you until you woke up, somehow knowing you would wake up in rainbow drinker form. You stayed with him for a bit before you found your hive. It’s safe, it’s secure and you got your shit together in a big way.
Deciphering her diary wasn’t too hard on you, you did need the teratoma and the forgotten glass. It’s a funny story actually. You’re the only jade who thought to look through the glass at the teratoma. The voices you hear now and the answers you get from the teratoma are irrefutable. You know and your beloved cerulean matesprit knows, making you quite the power couple. Your FLARP days aren’t behind you and you compete in a number of bloodsport events together. So far you’ve racked up enough to spend the rest of eternity not having to worry over anything your heart desires. Not even a minor injury as touched you two in all your sweeps playing together.
Your other passion is ballet. Your kismesis helped get you into it and you love her, in the hate you still but I’m grateful way, for it. You often like having fire during your performances if you do any. You do get asked frequently to perform for higher bloods as a jade out the caverns is a spectacle the rich and powerful want to play with. You might be a cat pushing a candle into a haystack with your craft but it’s one hell of a show. If they survive.
You mostly have your shit together and you’re proud of that. There are limits of course. The voices aren’t easy to adapt to, but you’re not one to let the teratoma’s “gifts” disillusion you. You also find yourself in frequent pain, some things were never healed with your change into the undead. You don’t really talk about that to anyone but your moirail. It stays that way, it has since you’ve known him. The olive is someone you could never replace, nor would you even consider that. He helped get you back to reality after your death. The time is largely a blur to you now and you prefer it like that, the only thing you DO recall is the pain. You don’t think anyone in the history of forever felt that amount of pain. He was there for you when things went wrong and he kept to his word that the intense agony would stop. You know somewhere that it was a promise that could’ve been empty but the fact he cared enough to promise and get it right overrules logic.
On sunny days like this you often paw over more of your ancestor’s diary and ask the teratoma for certain details you want from it. They are after all, your legacy. She got it from the mutant’s guardian as a prize after her death. You’re fully aware of her blood but haven’t told her you do. You know of the rot in your friend group, you’re all cursed in one way or another.
But that’s not gonna stop you.
happy 4/13 here's something i've been fucking with for ages
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So so you wanted a small town reader request so I thought of this one. She she’s from a southern small town and plays basketball for the SEC team of her state, she really made a name for herself there, but wants to broaden her horizons so she enters the transfer portal and somehow ends up in Iowa where meet Kate who is OBSESSED with her southern accent. Then it’s just Kate trying to show her interest bc reader is totally oblivious until one of their teammates says something
Southern Charm . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: after transferring to iowa’s basketball team to broaden your horizons, you end up meeting someone who changes your life
A/N: i got a request to do another country fic like this one with kate, so expect one with ‘country kate’ here soon!
also, i’m not very proud of this one so i’m sorry if it’s genuinely shitty lol :’)
NOT PROOF READ
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
ever since you were little, maybe 7 or 8, you were fascinated with basketball. growing up in texas you were exposed to a large following of sports and hard core fans. your family was always repping the pro and college teams of your state with pride, attending several games throughout your childhood. basketball in particular held a special place in your heart. you remember watching the university of texas’ basketball games with your dad, absolutely enthralled by the game. it didn’t take long for your parents to get you involved in the sport. you played in small teams as a kid then on your schools girls basketball teams in middle and high school. and with a lot of hard work and determination, you got into the university of texas to play on their women’s team.
while playing for the university, you made quite the impression on basketball fans. you were quick, had unbelievable stats, and extremely adaptable. you were a pretty valuable player in most eyes. but after two years at the school, you started to feel restricted. there wasn’t a whole lot for you to improve on your skills so you made a drastic decision to enter the transfer portal.
it was an emotional decision. realizing you would be leaving teammates behind as well as your home state was hard, but you longed for something greater. not long after entering the portal, you had transferred to the university of Iowa. you were ecstatic despite having to move away. it was time to broaden your horizons and hopefully expand upon your skill set.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
you had arrived in iowa around a week ago and you were still adjusting. figuring out where all of the buildings were, where the dining halls were located, was a lot for you to handle. hell you could barely remember how to get to your dorm at this point.
you haven’t even met your new teammates, practices not starting up for a couple of days. the anticipation had you extremely nervous.
what if they didn’t like you?
what if they thought you sucked?
the days leading up to your first practice were consumed with these uncontrollable thoughts. but as you laced up your shoes and grabbed your duffel bag, heading out the door, you felt those nagging thoughts dissipate.
when you arrived for practice, opening the large metal doors to the gym, it almost felt like you were right back at home. you wandered over to where the team was warming up, hearing the squeak of the polished floors. quickly, looking up from her clipboard, bluder spotted you a few feet ahead. she met you on the sidelines to officially greet you for your first day.
“ah, YN!” she announced, grabbing the attention of the other girls “nice to see you again, glad you could join us. let’s get you introduced and settled in”
her smile was welcoming as she motioned for the girls to huddle up. everyone gathered around, you being the center of attention as you looked around awkwardly.
“team, i’m sure you’re all aware of our newest member, YN” lisa said “let’s be kind and supportive and help her get settled in on her first day alight?”
everyone nodded “great. YN, would you like to introduce yourself?”
you took a deep breathe as you studied their faces timidly, fidgeting with your fingers and trying to think of something to say.
“um, yea” you managed, hoping you sounded confident “i’m YN, i just transferred from the university of texas..and i’m-uh-really excited to get to know you guys”
the team offered their hello’s, walking up to you one by one to shake your hand politely and introduce themselves. they were all incredibly sweet right away, telling you you’d fit right in and complimenting your skills. you went down the line, excited to get acquitted with the team.
then, at the end of the line, stood kate martin. you had seen her play and you thought she was amazing so you were excited to finally meet her. she approached you with the most genuine smile, eyes lit with zeal.
“hey,” she spoke up, offering her hand to you “i’m kate, it’s nice to meet you YN”
you smiled back at her “it’s nice to meet you too! you’re a fantastic player, i’d be lyin’ if i said i hadn’t been excited to meet you!”
“i’m flattered, really, thank you” you could feel her hand linger on yours as she pulled away from the handshake “so texas, huh? i caught onto the accent!”
you both laughed “yea, i’m from a small town not too far from campus, so i got that signature dialect”
“i think it’s really cute,” she looked down, avoiding your gaze “think it suits you”
“thanks, kate” you blushed, smiling at her once more before bluder summoned everyone to resume warmups.
what a sweetheart.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
it had been quite sometime since you had finally settled into your new team. there was a lot of awkwardness and uncertainty, but you had started to feel like this is where you were meant to be. and like you had hoped, there was so much more room for you to improve rather than back in texas. you were playing amazing games, beating your own records and personal highs on a regular basis. going to iowa was truly the best thing for your career.
you had also grown really close to the girls since arriving. kate, especially, was like your best friend. she had always been so kind and sweet to you. at some point in your friendship, you started to develop a decent crush on the girl, but you had always assumed that she didn’t feel that way about you. so you stayed quiet as to not distrust your connection.
but recently, things have been a little off with kate. she often avoided you during practices and didn’t stay to say goodbye when you left. both things she did on a normal basis and now she just stopped doing it all together. she didn’t even bother to text you or ask about your day, nor did she laugh when you said things funny (she’s always giggled to herself when your accent was thick). you were beginning to wonder if you did something wrong.
it had been weeks of her dismissive behavior and you were starting to miss your best friend. your heart ached at the thought of her not liking you anymore. so you devised a plan to meet her during her extra early practice one morning and confront her, hoping to figure out why she wasn’t giving you the time of day.
it was about 7:00 in the morning, much too early for your liking. you’d never understood why kate, amongst others, wanted to be at practice an hour earlier. but you had managed to get out of bed at 6, suiting up and sneakily heading to the gym. you hoped you could catch her off guard, maybe surprise her so she’d have no choice but to deal with your confrontation head on. you were approaching the doors of the locker room, about to open the door, when you heard kate’s voice echo from inside. freezing in your spot, you shamefully eavesdropped to see what she was talking about.
“no! i’m not going to do that!” she exclaimed.
“why not?” you heard another voice, from the sounds of it, it must’ve been gabbie. “you’re like obsessed with her, just go for it!”
“i’m not obsessed, ok? there’s just something about YN that drives me crazy and i like her so so much, but i’m sure as hell not going say that right to her face!”
you went numb hearing your name fall from kate’s mouth. you tried to move closer to the door, wanting to hear what she was saying a little bit better, but you tripped over your own foot causing you to lunge forward. the doors to the locker on went flying open, your stiff figure busting through the entrance as you immediately gave yourself away.
you stood, completely unable to move as you looking up into the vastness of the locker room. sure enough, there were gabbie and kate, sitting in front of you. their eyes were wide seeing you burst through those doors, realizing they had just been caught talking about you. and it was no secret that you had heard almost everything they were saying.
“i’m so sorry!” you rambled an apology “i was just about to come and talk to kate, but then i heard my name, and i really didn’t mean to intrude like this i’m so embarrassed”
kate sat, also embarrassed as gabbie spoke up.
“i’m going to give you guys some privacy” she said “i think there’s a lot that kate needs to say”
and with that, she walked out of the locker room, leaving you and kate in awkward silence. you walked over to where she sat on the bench to take the seat next to her. she looked at you, hardly able to make eye contact.
“i’m sorry”
“for what?” you asked
“i shouldn’t have been talking about you behind your back. i had no idea you were gonna be here, not that that makes it ok-”
“kate, it’s ok” you placed a hand on her shoulder “i was here early cause i needed to talk to you, but i shouldn’t have stuck around to eaves drop”
“what did you need to talk to me about?”
you sighed, suddenly wishing you didn’t have to bring it up in the first place “it’s just that i’ve felt like you’ve been avoiding me and purposely not talking to me so i wanted to ask why…but i think i already kind of know why…”
“yea” she replied, voice cracking “you weren’t supposed to find out like that”
“if it’s any consolation…i feel the same way” you removed your hand from her shoulder, taking her hand in yours. gentle fingers ran over hers soothingly.
“you-you do?”
“mhm” you grinned “i’ve been too afraid to say anything cause i didn’t know if you felt the same and i didn’t want to ruin our friendship”
she didn’t say anything, just sat looking into your eyes. there were no tears, no anger in her eyes, just a certain longing that only you could recognize.
“i think im in love with you”
“you don’t have to say-”
“no i mean it” she continued “everything about you, from the moment i met you, i’ve been in love with. you’re perfect and funny and gentle, you have the cutest accent i’ve ever heard, and i don’t think i can handle being just friends”
“kate i think i’m in love with you too” happy tears welled in your eyes as you inched closer to her, feeling her breathe on your skin.
“can i kiss you?” she asked, but she didn’t even need to, you would’ve done it anyways.
“please”
and finally, your lips met in the most gentle yet passionate kiss. teeth clashing at the urgency of it, both of you so eager from waiting so long for this moment. you wished you could’ve stayed like that forever. nonetheless, she pulled away breathlessly, forehead resting against yours as you smiled at each other.
“it’s that southern charm” she joked, large hand resting against your cheek “you’re irresistible”
you laughed, pulling her into another kiss, trying to savor this moment for as long as you could.
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"Living with yourself is hard. Living without yourself is even harder."
Demo (release date: when the time is right)
Part One: Memories of the Phoenix
Intro: In this world, magic is split in two, no longer something one individual could wield all on their own. Instead, the art is now divided and shared between those who write spells on enchanted talismans and those who unleash the power. From this discovery, the roles of Casters and Enchanters were born. This brings us to Nanta, the ever-bustling port city near the shores of Fen – known as the sea of stars – that is home to many who seek knowledge rather than fish. Some claim that it's the epicentre not only of trade but also magic across the continent of Yulan, and they're right. Stationed on its hills is the proud Academy of Dives, which houses thousands of children and young adults of all upbringings and social standing, teaching them the art of either enchanting or casting.
You are one of those lucky students - a caster with the highest magical strength across the entire Academy paired with an equally impressive enchanter to write talismans for you. Life handed you the easiest path to glory on a silver platter.
So, what was preventing you from dominating the world at the tender age of fourteen?
Merely the fact that you want none of it.
Features:
Play as a depressed kid in a fantasy world filled with magic. It's not the best place to have mental issues. Either you or the world will have to adapt.
Try to change your bad habits - wake up on time and attend classes like everyone else. You could even show up to write the midterm exam! Or succumb to the endless cycle of running away from your problems. There's no shame in that, only consequences.
Meddle with the life of another student and help them decide their fate. You could even stop an ancient ritual from happening if you're lucky.
Mend or worsen the relationship between you and the enchanter assigned to you. Just how deep does his patience run?
Characters:
Nadir - Enchanter
Nadir is your enchanter and the first-ever friend you made after arriving in the Academy, though you doubt he shares your opinion. He is everything a student should be and everything you are not. Even though you both share a rare gift, only one of you appreciates it, which often leads to arguments between you.
Shuli - Enchanter
Shuli is your beloved roommate. She agreed to stay behind with you in the abandoned dorms, which has made your life easier. Her kindness and patience towards you knows no bounds, and when you squint, you can almost see a shining halo on top of her head. If you hadn't seen her beat up a bunch of thieves with her bare hands, you, too, would be fooled into thinking of her as someone on the weaker side.
Eris - Caster
Eris is called ‘The Darling of the Academy’ due to being everyone's favorite despite being quite the troublemaker. You even heard that so far they never lost in a single popularity contest due to their beautiful doll-like face, but that is pretty much all you know about them. That is, until - all of a sudden - they start randomly approaching you all the time.
Other Characters:
Sol & Leto
Leto and Sol - the inseparable duo with completely opposing personalities. Sol glares at people like she never had a peaceful day in her life - while Leto is a walking cloud full of smiles. People wonder how these two get along so well. You may find the answer to that soon enough.
Kara
Kara is the spirit you bonded with when you were seven. He is the closest thing you have to a family.
Gias
A carefree soul that also happens to be a teacher. Gias is a mysterious person, and you suspect they know more than they let on.
Not recommended for people that don't like:
Slice of life, age progression - or who want to play a touch-averse or a completely blank mc
Credits:
Help with the intro post @unsanctioned-if
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Belonging and humanity (some more Ivan thoughts)

There's a big difference between knowing for a fact that you're a human being and getting to FEEL part of humankind. That's a thing that I feel Ivan sorely lacked. Some of his issues can definitely be traced back to it.
There's three things we know for certain about Ivan's early childhood nowadays, so let me start from those:
There were other humans around him in the slums, at least other children (for now it doesn't seem there were adults around, or none who would approach or care for the children).
However, we also know Ivan did not learn social behavior properly; for example, how or when to smile.
Going by the lonely tone of the song Nowhere and its emphasis on having no one, plus the previous point, we can infer there was no meaningful social contact with any people he knew/saw.
Ivan has been described as someone who is always learning to survive and his time in the slums must've been the same, after all; it's most likely that the other kids were competition to him (for food or other resources), threats or simply strangers with whom connections were never made.
That's to say, there were humans around Ivan but no "human community".
And that's the thing: take someone who went through a critical developmental stage with no one to care for or be cared by, learn social behavior with or practice the emotional exercises of understanding and empathy - ask that someone what "being a part of humankind" feels like, and what can he even make of it? It must not mean much more than categorizing a species, no feeling involved. And anyway, what difference does it make if there's anything else to say or not?
It's not like those are easy questions. None of the ALNST cast, with all their limitations, would be able to respond comprehensively.
But it changes things, the differences are there.
There are things that Till knows, from having a mother, learning from her and being enriched emotionally by their interaction, that I don't think he could describe but certainly has within him. Or Hyuna, who had a brother to feel that family bond and sense of community with, learning all sorts of positive social skills and having a heart full of room for empathy as she always looked out for the little Other Person next to her.
Beyond knowing their species, they know what it MEANS to be the rare and amazing human creature from these experiences of connecting, teaching, being taught, holding things in common, giving and receiving love. On an instinctual level they accessed what it feels like to be "part of humankind", which is so cool about them!!
Then you have cases like Mizi being too trusting of aliens because she was raised to feel community with one, Sua being mostly withdrawn because she didn't have a lot of warmth and community around her, Luka who was deprived of everything and then clung too hard to his first proper bond...
And Ivan, with his empty circumstances. There are a million things Ivan didn't learn and doesn't KNOW he lacked.
Of course that with his background he'd end up 1: being defensive by nature, having selfish tendencies, trouble processing emotion and socially weird habits and 2: feeling like a twisted being because of it, which is such a core aspect of his character. A human with less humanity but no idea why or how.
He adapted himself a lot once adopted, of course, and caught up an even bigger lot in his time in Anakt Garden. But I don't think he ever understood why he was "more twisted than others" and honestly, his intelligence and observance doesn't do him any favors on that front; on the contrary, I think it made him more aware of the gaps between him and other people.
And I really have to wonder if his experiences around the segyein are all that different, emotionally speaking.
I mean, of course objectively they have to be, but… his adopted life was a matter of observing his new environment, feeling like an absolute stranger because he's another species, but learning and adapting as quickly as possible in order to make himself a desirable pet that would be kept around. His experience being sent to Anakt and put in a human group was, again, feeling like a stranger because he's different to others of his own species, but learning and adapting as quickly as possible, eventually making himself an "acceptable", charming, absolutely cagey but near-perfect man. He succeeded both times.
He never did get rid of that awareness of being "twisted", though. After all, he also didn't unlearn all his survival patterns or fix the weak spots in his emotional development. As much as he progressed, the sense of not quite belonging and the faint relationship with his own humanity stayed. (With one big exception, but I'll leave that thought for the end of this ramble.)
In a way, I feel like this is exactly what made him so successful in segyein society as far as he lived. So adaptable that beyond being a good pet, he could also be trusted with and hold down an actual job, decent (faked or not, still good) relationships with segyein and, if he had any chance of survival, probably the capacity to live in their society with moderate perks.
Being an adaptable stranger who belonged nowhere in the first place… I think it's what made him more willing, more capable and more okay with mixing with the segyein like that, paired with his intelligence to pull it off.
No human pride to sacrifice. Not much humanity in the first place.
Except for the one noteworthy exception that shifted Ivan's growth: his relationship with Till.
Not only did Till embody things that Ivan lacked, which fascinated him from the start, but through his bond with him Ivan developed a lot of those traits and sensitivities that constitute peak humanity. It's a bit of the "love will make you human" trope, but on god does it apply. Ivan learned to care, to feel and to love, at times selfishly, at times messily. Buth he got pretty good at it; so much that love made him selfless and sacrificial in the end. He became a little more human for the object of his feelings. It didn't't erase all his struggles or fix his issues at large, but it was a lot. Of course he'd die thanking Till.
Anyway, that's all I wanted to get off my chest!
Humanity is a tough theme with Ivan, so I hope my thoughts about it were an interesting read.
The usual disclaimer: I've talked about 1 aspect of Ivan in this post, which does not mean this is all there is to his character or that I aim to invalidate other aspects. Just rotating this one in my head.
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Phantom of the Opera (1990), you did Erik proud
Alternate title: Christine, we have beef!

(Meme inspired by this post.)
I have not a bad word for this Erik (and not just because I can feel a certain friend of mine holding a chandelier over my head). The 1990 adaptation made some big changes to the story, but it perfectly captured the childlike soul of Leroux's Erik that is often lost in translation but vital to him. (When I was explaining POTO to someone outside the situation, i. e. my mum, two things I kept using as comparisons were a child and Gollum - not because he's a chaos gremlin, I was trying to describe how he has a skewered perspective of the world that isn't evil but doesn't follow the accepted moral system. But that's for another time.)
I found myself trying very hard not to resent Christine - a first time for me. I will defend her choosing the Compte de Chagny over Erik, she doesn't owe Erik love, no matter what he did for her. The problem is that she took on a responsibility she couldn't possibly carry.
Never, ever assume to fully understand someone. Especially someone like Erik, who thinks and exists on a different pane as most people. Christine was wrong, terribly wrong, to assume she 'knew his heart.'
When faced with a person so sensitive, so particular, when you are the one person trusted by someone who trusts no one, don't make huge gambles like that. She shouldn't have assumed she knew what Erik needs better than he himself does - if he told you he is happy with where they were, then stay there with him! Instead, she pulled the 'I can fix him' and shattered him completely. I don't hate her for being unable to catch Erik when he falls, I hate her for blindly promising to catch him and failing him.
(I do realise how much of the above describes myself and my worries about how people treat me, so fair warning, I may be a bit biased.)
An opinion: in most versions of the story, Erik emotionally manipulates Christine, but here, Christine is the one who is emotionally manipulative. ('Manipulative' may sound malicious, but manipulators aren't always aware of what they're doing.)
In the second part of the series, she said at least three times 'If you love me...' Now, that is one of my least favourite sentences to see and hear in the best of times, but this is somehow even worse because Erik DOES do everything because he loves her. In other versions, there is the question of possessiveness against love when it comes to their relationship; in that context, I would accept her saying this, to remind him that he should love and not obsess over her. But here, Erik is not possessive.
As for Monsieur Carrière, I have beef with him, too. It's an even bigger, tougher slice of beef. He is irresponsible: not once, but twice, he got in relationships and then left his partners when they have children. The first time could be a mistake; the second time, especially when kept Erik's mother in the dark about his marriage, is inexcusable. Yes, he stayed with her till the end, but then left their son in a basement. Yes, he reached out to Erik in the end, but too little, too late. If Erik is emotional and irrational, it's because Carrière never gave him the guidance he should have.
Christine and Carrière love Erik, I don't doubt it. But it's still painful to see Erik fall down through everyone and everything that should have caught him: his talent, his parents, Christine.
If you'll excuse me, I need to cry in the catacombs and draw something miserable.
I talk about several other adaptations here!
#phantom of the opera#poto#poto 1990#erik poto#erik the phantom#christine daee#charles dance#phandom#cats#art#artists on tumblr#poto rant
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our hearts' rhythm
↳ Ch one: Midnight coffee cups
Neve Gallus x Rook
Series Summary: The quietness of the night can become something overwhelming when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Rook's nights often take a lonely and sleepless turn, but luckily, a certain detective also has trouble finding sleep when work gets in her head. Two restless hearts start finding their way to each other. Maybe some comfort can be found in the darkness of the night, after all.
A/N: So, this was supposed to be much smaller, but it snowballed into something more, as most of my works tend to do loll. Nonetheless, I think I like how it turned out! We'll have a few more chapters, a few more tales of sleepless nights. And, I am already working on your requests. ;)
Masterlist
The passage of time in the Lighthouse could be confusing, sometimes unsettling, as magic clung to every stone and vine of the building. At first, it was gloomy outside, not quite day and not quite night. Then it turned brighter, plants started growing, and what looked like sunlight remained stagnant in one part of the sky only. And lately, something akin to night started happening.
Rook didn't know if their corner of the fade was only mimicking the world outside or if the Lighthouse had somehow eventually adapted to the team's sleeping habits and created a resemblance to a night sky. Either way, she was pleased to have a calmer setting, free of bright lights, to allow her tired eyes some respite after a tumultuous day.
She thought such calmness would make it easy to rest, but apparently, her body had other ideas. For a couple of hours now, she'd been tossing and turning, firstly with eyes closed to try and fool her mind into thinking it was asleep, and then holding a staring contest with the fish in her aquarium. No luck. No matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn't come.
Maybe, Rook shouldn't be surprised. The fall of Weisshaupt had taken a toll on everyone, and it had only been a couple of days. Each time she closed her eyes, there would be flashes of the recent memory; darkspawn climbing the walls of the castle, the smell of smoke and blood as fire rained down from the sky on brave warriors who refused to back down, the death of an Archdemon, and yet Ghilan'nain still very much alive and on the loose. So many lives were lost, and a fortress that had stood since the beginning of time was now nothing more than rubble and smoke. It didn't feel like much of a victory.
And all under her command. Varric had trusted her to be the one leading their team. 'No one is ever truly ready, kid.' He'd told her once. 'But I know you have what it takes to do it.' And she misses him, out there fighting by her side. She missed the security and comfort his presence brought her in this near one year they'd spent together.
Rook sat up, burying her head in her hands before running her fingers through her hair. She mumbled curses when they got caught in loose knots. Part of her wanted to wander into the infirmary to hear what she already knew he'd tell her, but Varric was probably asleep already. It wouldn't change much, truth is that everyone is looking at her for guidance now, whether they even realize it or not. And the pressure only grows heavier.
Pressing her palms to her eyes, Rook wished to escape from this world, only for a moment. The thought was gone as soon as it came, replaced by another, one that dreaded the feeling of leaving her team alone in this battle.
Coming to terms with the fact that she'd be getting no sleep for the night, Rook got up and quietly made her way out of her room. She walked aimlessly, bare feet touching the cold stone floor as she passed by the gentle hum of the astrolabe in the library until she reached the main doors. Outside, she was greeted by another night in the fade, that strange horizon of moons and stars filling the sky in all directions, but never seeming to turn to a real night sky.
Rook walked up the stairs in the middle of the courtyard, passing by the wisps floating around Neve's study. A faint light came from inside, bleeding through the windows. Neve had told her, not that long ago, that she never could sleep once work got in her head.
Was she restless, too?
There had been so much death at Weisshaupt. And yet, Rook couldn't help but be filled with relief when, at the end of each fight, she would look for Neve and find her still standing.
What a dangerous thing, to care this much.
They hadn't acknowledged any of it, but amidst the smoke and the darkspawn and the bloodshed, whenever Rook had looked for Neve, she would meet the detective's gaze, already locked solely on her, too. Neve always caught her staring, but Rook always caught Neve staring back—a shared gaze that lingered just a little longer than it should amidst a battle.
Tonight, Rook held a staring contest with Neve's door from afar. Considered going after some kind of comfort she couldn't find anywhere else. Until she shook her head, mumbling a quiet 'no'.
Instead, she pushed open the tall doors of the dining hall, ever so slowly and carefully to avoid any sounds because of a certain assassin who insisted on sleeping in the pantry. Inside, the long wooden table still had empty plates and cups scattered around. The warm light of the fireplace bathed the whole spacious room in dim shades of orange, its flickering flames reflecting against cutlery and hanging pans. A small smile came to Rook's lips. She liked it here, the space was cozy and almost homey in a way.
Maybe she could make herself some tea, that could soothe her mind—no, the teabags were stashed in the pantry, and she wasn't about to disturb Lucanis at this hour of the night. There was a half-filled coffee pot by the stove, which seemed fresh enough. It wouldn't do much to calm her mind, but it would be a distraction.
When Rook stepped out of the dining hall, warm coffee cup in hand, she could still see a light on inside Neve's room, a mix of golden from candles and faint blue from the wisps.
There was a beat of debate and hesitation, a beat where Rook considered what-ifs and their consequences. Maybe she really was a lost cause.
Rook turned around, going back into the dining hall to heat a second cup of coffee.
─── ·❆· ───
Knocking on the door proved a little difficult while holding two mugs of coffee and trying not to spill it all on herself, but Rook managed. It was a soft touch of knuckles on metal, and luckily, with the quietness of the night, not much else was needed for Neve to hear her.
A curious 'come in' called for Rook then, with the soft melody of her favorite voice. Rook breathed out a heavy sigh, knowing she'd been doomed from the start.
Neve's eyebrows twitched upwards when Rook stepped into her room, her chocolate eyes going just a tad wider were enough of a tell that she was not expecting this. But in the same breath, there was an uncharacteristically gentle smile on the detective's lips, her freckles and a single dimple on her cheek highlighted under the golden light of the few candles still lit atop her desk.
Rook smiled, too, at how Neve's eyes softened just for her. The detective placed down her pen, notes being pushed aside as she made room for Rook in the privacy of another sleepless night. A silent 'you're a welcome surprise.'
There was no need for their usual 'you're up late', 'you're awake to notice'. They both already knew.
"Hey." Rook walked forward, placing one of the mugs on Neve's desk. "I brought you coffee."
Neve's smile became a little teasing. She blinked, slow and tired, as she reached for the mug. Faint dark circles marked the skin below her eyes. "How thoughtful."
Rook's shrug held the same kind of weight, "I try." She moved to sit on Neve's cot, back slumped against the wall, just under the gift she'd given Neve when she was hoping to get the detective to like her more.
Rook closed her eyes. She hadn't taken a single sip of her coffee yet, which was steadily growing colder.
Moments of silence followed, with only the distant sound of the wisps thrilling at the new presence in the room and the ever so characteristic hum of the fade's magic. Until Rook heard shuffling, and the familiar click of Neve's prosthetic as she walked.
There was enough space for both of them to sit on the cot comfortably without touching, but as Neve sat down, her shoulder pressed closely against Rook's. The quietness of the fade's night engulfed them in something intimate and warm, a slice of peace away from the outside world.
Rook's eyes remained closed, yet she could feel the deep breath that Neve took, and she followed suit taking a breath of her own, then rested her head back on the wall. Maybe both of them were after some kind of comfort, drawn together in the dead of night once more.
"Your thoughts are loud tonight." Neve's voice had never been as soft as it was now. Rook felt the weight of her gaze. "What about?"
Rook feared that if Neve were to ask her to spill her darkest secrets, she would, without a second thought. "I… don't know what Varric saw in me." The words simply fell past her lips. She held a pause, then opened her eyes and turned to the woman beside her.
Neve's eyes glinted with curiosity and… something more tender. One side of her mouth raised in a lopsided smile she tried to hide. "Someone who tends to think in straight lines?"
A weak chuckle escaped Rook, and she felt her cheeks warm up. Echoes of the same words from the day they'd met—the day everything went wrong—Rook's gaze followed a path from the slope of Neve's nose to the arch of her eyebrow and above, where a recent scar now marked her brown skin.
And Rook's guilt must have been clear as day on her face, because Neve's smile turned to something sympathetic and bittersweet. She bumped her knee onto Rook's, leaning a little closer. "Someone who chases… Trouble. Someone who doesn't give up…"
Rook kept quiet, only noticing how Neve traced the rim of her mug with her thumb and then looked away, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Rook couldn't remember ever seeing the detective nervous, she didn't think the other woman ever felt it.
A moment of hesitation and pensive silence lingered. Neve shifted her gaze to Rook again. "Someone with a good heart."
Was it an answer to her question, or was this how Neve saw her? Rook wasn't sure which she preferred, but the thought of Neve being so… aware of her, sent a chill down Rook's spine.
"But it wasn't enough." She muttered. If it weren't for the quietness of the night, maybe Neve wouldn't have heard her. "At Weisshaupt, I… I can't stop thinking that I could've done more. That I should have-" With a groan, Rook took a long sip of her now lukewarm coffee, only to buy herself time. It tasted bitter on her tongue and made her grimace.
"We gave our all, Rook." Neve spoke, with a kind of calmness that Rook envied. She took a long sip of her coffee as well. "You gave your all. You were- you were ready to die for it, I know." And suddenly, her voice stumbled with the words, as if the thought of speaking them out loud troubled her.
Rook wanted to ask why. But she didn't. Instead, she allowed her guilt to drip and bleed past her defenses. "And still… so many Wardens died instead." Rook's knuckles turned white with the force of her grip on the mug. She could still feel the weight of the lyrium dagger in her hand and how it almost whispered to her, taunting. A target painted on her back and still she remained. "Somehow, I feel like… part of that is on me."
Wisps stirred, they floated and roamed near the ceiling, blue tendrils ghosting over Neve's notes pinned with red threads on her clue board. The detective narrowed her eyes at them from afar. They are always restless, growing even more so whenever Rook comes around. Neve had notes about that, another little mystery.
Did the wisps know something she didn't?
"It's Ghilan'nain's fault." Neve shifted closer to Rook, her shoulder a warm and comforting presence. She wouldn't admit that Rook did the same for her. "No one else's."
Rook sighed. Placed her mug on the floor and slumped back against the wall—she's never been the biggest fan of coffee anyway.
The quiet felt almost always comfortable with Neve. Besides Harding and Varric, the detective was the only one who'd been at her side since they found Solas, and it all started falling apart. Sometimes, Neve felt like an anchor, steadying her in the middle of a tempestuous sea.
Telltales of the siege were hard to shake. If Rook closed her eyes for too long, she'd be back there, staring down a god with her heart lodged in her throat. For a moment then, she was so sure she was going to die.
But she couldn't crumble, not now. Rook knew, that Weisshaupt was far from being their final battle.
Rook chose instead to focus on the steady rise and fall of Neve's breathing that she could faintly feel, because of how pressed together the two of them were. She focused on the sweet and soothing perfume of Neve's hair. She focused on things she shouldn't be focusing on, and even so, her heartbeat calmed down. The consequences could wait another night.
Out of boldness or desperation—or simply because she'd been so tired—Rook dropped her head to Neve's shoulder.
The detective's breath caught in her throat when she felt it; Rook leaning into her and staying there. Neve sat stiffly, back straight and knees pressed together, feeling out of place in her own room because when was the last time someone had sought her out this much without asking for anything in return but her presence?
It felt… foreign, to be wanted. Not for a case, not for a job that could or could not get her killed—but simply for the comfort of existing in the same place, at the same time.
Neve's nails tapped the ceramic of her mug, a rhythmic sound following the rapid beating of her heart. Until it stopped, because close still didn't feel close enough. That same hand reached for Rook's. Neve grimaced at her own actions, but she didn't stop; timid fingers traced the skin of Rook's wrist, almost afraid.
With a long and shaky exhale past her lips, Neve willed her body to relax, told her cynical mind that just for one night it would be okay; the moment would be tucked away and forgotten as soon as the sun rose in the sky come morning. Tentatively, Neve leaned her cheek on top of Rook's head. In the same beat, she closed her eyes tight, lest tears would fall and Rook would feel them and that would be a whole other onslaught of questions none of them were quite ready for.
Because they chased trouble. And one too many times, Rook almost paid the price, right before her eyes. And Neve refused to think about how it made her feel. She couldn't afford that; none of them could. The air around them was charged with electricity; they both felt it, though none dared acknowledge it.
Neve's thumb pressed gently onto Rook's pulse point, holding there for a second or two as she felt the reassuring rhythm, before tracing a path forward. The detective mapped the ridges and bumps of the other woman's palm, memorizing how she felt beneath her touch.
All the while Rook held her breath, mouth going dry. Because she could feel Neve's lips grazing her hairline with each intake of air. Because Neve's touch was so soft, so warm against the coldness of her hand. She spread her fingers, a silent invitation that was just as shy.
Maybe a little too eager, Neve slipped her fingers between Rook's, intertwining their hands together. Her grip was strong and present, as if grounding herself.
Rook felt insistent tears welling up on the bottom lid of her eyes. Her thumb brushed back and forth against the skin of Neve's hand. Oh, she hadn't realized how much she craved this kind of closeness, of comfort. And maybe, just maybe, Neve had been just as desperate for it.
Why they had chosen each other remained as a blurry answer, almost as blurry as the lines they'd already crossed.
"I'm glad…" Neve began after what felt like hours of silence, her voice becoming surprisingly wobbly and quiet and raw. She gulped, taking a breath before starting again; "I'm glad we made it out."
In the same heartbeat, Rook was biting back her tears and nodding softly. She squeezed Neve's hand tighter. Amidst so much death and destruction, they had been lucky. "Yeah, I am too."
It was enough. For this one night, it was enough.
They held each other steady, none willing to leave the other's side, and both fell asleep at the same moment.
Restless hearts, eased into calmness when beating together, at the same rhythm.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Next chapter coming soon
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#neve gallus#neve gallus x rook#neve gallus romance#neve x rook#dragon age neve#neve gallus fanfic#neve gallus x reader#dragon age the veilguard#da veilguard#dragon age fanfiction#fanfic#imagine#angst#fluff#comfort#datv#dragon age#my story
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When Pomefiore first came out on the JP server a few years ago, I genuinely thought that Neige's cutesiness was just an act and that he was far darker behind closed doors. But, nope. Turns out that Neige is completely "what you see is what you get", and that really threw me off. I'm not the only one. I'm not the only one. Other fic writers in this fandom like LeaderPinhead have said that they thought the same thing.
While it's fine that Yana never went in that direction, she never did anything with his character either. He's just a cardboard cutout for Vil to sneer at and literally nothing else. It's so bad that Vil ironically is the better Snow White analog. Vil is similar to her personality wise, being hardworking, adaptable, assertive and at times kind. He has plenty of flaws like being overly domineering, being too blunt and harsh among other things, but that's a good thing. Those negative traits only make him feel like a real person and a modern male version of Snow White. Neige's similarities are limited to only his looks. His backstory makes no sense and comes right out of nowhere. (Seriously, why wasn't he and the dwarves taken in by Child Protective Services, if he was a minor in modern times?) That's such a waste to me. Neige is the antagonist of the Pomefiore arc, so there should be more to him than that.
However, if I wrote this story, I would do just that. Make Vil the one based on Snow White and Neige is based on the Evil Queen, being like Maurice Cole from Black Butler.
While I haven't read Black Butler, from what I heard from one of my friends and after watching a summary video of the Public School Arc, Cole is Redmond's helper (not using the manga's term because it's a slur). He has a cutesy demeanor, coming off as courteous and polite. He is beloved in the school. Behind closed doors, he's the worst, and, in all honesty, is like a modern version of the Evil Queen. He's a vain asshole, who hates hard work, and frequently leaves his duties to those beneath him. He is willing to resort to underhanded methods to get what he wants. When someone does something better than him, he will make sure to knock them down.
Why couldn't Neige be more like that? Don't get me wrong. I don't think Neige should've been a copy and paste of that other character. Hell, I would argue that differentiating them is a good thing. Not only to change things up, but according to that same friend, he's boring and lazily written. Plus, I don't see Neige doing one of Cole's despicable actions being ever greenlit by Disney. But I think giving Neige some of those same traits would be a step in the right direction. That way he would have a personality and be an actual threat to Vil.
I have seen a lot of people say similar things about their expectations for Neige actually.

Thank you for your take.
You've made a very thoughtful entry here, and I will leave it mostly for others to read and respond to because I think this is an interesting conversation to be had.
My own thoughts are short, that I definitely like the idea of Neige being more characterized so that he can be more of, you know, a character, but I never really liked the idea of him being secretly nasty. I feel like there's too much stock in the corruption of innocence and really would like to have a character as straightforward and just nice as Snow White was--though to be fair we do have Kalim already so people might not want another character too similar to him. In any case maybe a fun idea would be Vil being paranoid about Neige like "No one of his celebrity is that nice!" and part of his beef with him is being annoyed by the idea that Neige is just that genuine. TWST fails at making much out of that rivalry though. With Yana's writing history for Black Butler and such I don't blame people for thinking there should have been a darker side here.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst hot takes#hot take#twst hot take#ask response#neige leblanche#twst neige
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Hey, I found Sweet Tooth and absolutely loved it.
I wanted to ask you if you'd write an intermediate scenario or something before she's warmed up to Yoongi, where she throws a tantrum and hurts herself, and they go to the doctor, where she overhears someone advising Jimin that it's totally normal to let go of a problematic hybrid or pet especially if your partner doesn't like them, and there are shelters that take them in?
And with her heightened Cat hearing it freaks her out into shutting her tantrums down long term - but jimin is oblivious to her fear because things are going so well with Yoongi?
"So, just for protocol, how exactly did it happen?" A nurse asks, while you're being treated in another room, door slightly opened just in case she's needed at any point.
"She.. her living situation changed quite drastically. And she has trouble adapting." Jimin admits to her gently, tone soft to not be heard by you. "My partner and her.. don't get along very well. And she sometimes acts a bit out, which causes accidents like this." He further details, sighing. "They were fighting over something, and my partner accidentally closed the door on her tail as she went out. It was absolutely not intentional!"
"Hm, yeah, it's sometimes hard for hybrids to adapt. You also have another hybrid?" She asks, reading your medical info on the computer screen while she taps away some more info.
"Yes, my partner's. A canine hybrid." He informs her, and she nod.
"You know, it's a totally reasonable thing to think about moving one out." She suggests to jimin, who's face starts to become a little confused and irritated. "Giving her past history, she's a bit problematic, so her behavior is quite natural. There's tons of good places for hybrids like her though- since it's generally recommended to keep hybrids of both her category and behavioral issues in stable families as a single hybrid."
"Thats.. no, she's just.." jimin stammers, having never even thought about it once. But how are you feeling right now? Is he really doing the right thing, or is he just being selfish by hoping you'll adapt at some point?
And will you really adapt, or just admit defeat?
"I'll write down some numbers, alright? It's your choice to make." She suggests gently. He can sense that she really only has your best interest in mind. "This down here is Dr. Kim Taehyung, he's an expert in hybrid behavioral therapy. He might even take her in himself!" She suggests, before giving jimin the note. "Think about it."
He doesn't have to. He could never give you away like that.
Back home, something's definitely wrong though, ecer since that incident. You're quiet, detached, don't even interact with Jungkook anymore- the poor canine hybrid having tried everything from your favorite snacks to a collection of his personal favorite plushies. Nothing seems to get a reaction out of you anymore.
And what's the oddest, is how you just.. listen to whatever yoongi tells you to do.
Wash the dishes? You'll do it, quietly. You'll even dry them and put them away to your best abilities.
Make your bed? You even do laundry if he tells you to, even though you struggle to memorize all the different settings and programs.
Set the table? You'll just do it, robotically, not even a roll of your eyes.
One might think yoongi would enjoy this new, quiet side of you- but he doesn't. The guilt about accidentally hurting you that day still eats him alive, the sound of your painful cries still haunting him in his sleep.
Jimin, however, doesn't seem to realize the secerity of the situation. He tries to reassure his partner by saying that you'll just need some time, that hospitals just spook you, and that you maybe just want to be a good girl for once.
But Jungkook especially, is concerned. This isn't like you, and it's not a normal change of mind either. No one just flips around like a switch over night like that.
"I'll go to work now, yeah?" Jungkook tells you- but you just nod, no protest coming from you. Jungkook's ears droop down, tail limp behind him as he throws Yoongi a helpless look, before he leaves for work, leaving you and the oldest human alone in the house.
"Alright, I'm done with this." He says, and you look at him at that, fearful.
He hates it. Why are you scared of him?
"I promise you, I didn't mean to hurt you that day." Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, before he sits down on the couch next to you, with respectful distance. "I'm sorry. I really am."
"Its fine." You just state, but he shakes his head.
"Its not fine. Nothing is fine at all." He denies. "Is there anything else that happened? Something bothering you?" He asks, but you just shake your head. "If you don't want to talk to me, then talk to Jimi-"
"He wants to give me away." You say, pulling up your legs to yourself.
"...what?" Yoongi asks in disbelief. Jimin loves you- he'd never give you away- he'd probably much rather admit defeat in this relationship than give you up.
"The nurse and him.. talked about stuff." You mumble into your knees. "He got like.. she wrote down some numbers for him. One of them a doctor.. for behavior problems and stuff.." you explain, tail wrapping around yourself in comfort. "Because it's alright to give up shitty hybrids like me. You know." You shrug. "Cause I'm supposed to be alone."
"Thats bullshit." Yoongi declines, crossing his arms. "Everything about this. He'd never give you away, and neither are you shitty or supposed to be alone." He denies, getting up to get his phone- accidentally digging in the pockets of the wrong coat, fingers finding a note instead.
Three numbers. One of them labeled 'Dr. Kim Taehyung'
..are you possibly telling the truth? Does jimin really want to go this far just to save his relationship with him? He knows he should probably feel flattered. But he doesn't.
Not one bit.
"Its probably the best." You say from the couch still, looking over the backrest of it, ears down low. He's never seen you this.. insecure before. Vulnerable. "Then you'll all be happy. And maybe I can get fixed." You shrug, when Yoongi walks closer, hand on your head making you look up.
"There's nothing wrong with you." He denies, note clenched in his fist as he just crumples it up. "And you're not going to be alone." He says, walking upstairs into his office.
And you swear, just for a second, his eyes seemed to sparkle a little from unshed tears bubbling up.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts jungkook imagine#hybrid imagine#yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagines#jimin imagine#jimin angst#jimin x reader
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[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]
Digital Illustration Time: 5hrs 29min
✨ Old Design ✨
Tweak Headcanons . . .
I wanted to take another pass at Tweak but this time try for that green we all know her in. I found some references on Pinterest that really inspired me to go for this swampy, almost lichen color.
[ Headcanons Ahead ]
For Tweak's dad, Ranger Marsh, you'll see some strands of that bright green I put in her last design. I think I'll keep it as an homage to my first try. And maybe I can headcanon that he tried to dye his hair for his daughter (to stay hip as they say) but accidentally chose the wrong green so that's why it ended up being so bright.

Her mother's side of the family actually adapted to the swamp by changing their fur color to match the mud and the moss. So Tweak got her mom's fur but got her dad's eyes.
I didn't even mean for it to happen but both Tweak and her dad (we're gonna pretend that Kwazii doesn't have one too lol) have a scar under their right eye. And honestly I think it would show as a sign of how similar they really are deep down.
Maybe they don't look the same or sometimes even act the same but they both carry the same scars. They both loved Tweak's mom and tried to live the way she would've wanted them to. They both try to help people, the animals, even the environment. Sure they butt heads sometimes but what father-daughter duo doesn't?
They both care about each other but sometimes its hard to show how much they care. Especially without Terry (her mom) to merge the gap.
Captain Barnacles / Kwazii / Peso / Dashi / Shellington / Inkling / Vegimals
[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]
#octonauts#octonauts fanart#octonauts story#octonauts tweak#octonauts above and beyond#octonauts the asa#octonauts redesigns#octonauts redesign#tweak redesign#tweak bunny
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if only
warnings; discussions of death, grief, angst pairing; old man! logan x reader reuploaded from my ao3!
Your fingers glanced over the pages, turning to the next. Before you was another familiar illustration, this time of the white rabbit. Of course, you knew what was next. You were barely even reading from the pages anymore. It was easier at this point to recite from memory, you thought.
Your voice was that of a classical piano to Logan. In his eyes, you were a magnificent storyteller, even if he'd never say that out loud to protect his masculinity. What little masculinity he had left at least--from lying in his bed, coughing up blood and wheezing--was sacred. You didn't deserve to see him in that state.
You'd been reading him one of your favorite books, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, ever since the doctor told him he didn't have much longer. Looking into your eyes was so hard; he couldn't stand how much hope was in them. It felt like it was killing him faster.
Though a nonreligious man, Logan prayed he wouldn't die before you could finish the story. For your sake.
"...when suddenly, a white rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her." There came your voice again. So sweet with a melody unaware of what was to come. He held back another rattling cough as to not interrupt your fantasy.
You must have heard his wheezing breaths, because you stopped. It was a rather uncomfortable quiet, so Logan broke it. "Why'd you quit?" He rasped out. Looking over at you instead of at the ceiling, slivers of moonlight from the window reflected off fresh tears from your cheeks. "Oh, no. None of that, angel."
With a voice much shakier than before, you resumed from the paragraph you stopped at. "In another moment, down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out of it." Even on the verge of tears, you were still so pleasant to listen to.
Logan never much cared for reading. In his older age he'd adapted to a quieter, more serene life, but never once had he thought to pick up a book such as the one you were reading now. Come to think of it, he was a toddler when the story was written.
But in that moment, he found himself paying attention to the characters. You reminded him of Alice. Always in your own world, so full of hope in a hopeless situation, so eager to pursue what cannot be pursued. He saw himself as the white rabbit. Mainly because he was running away from time, and managed to catch your eye during the 200-year-long flee.
"I wish we could stay on this page," you murmured sadly. Noticing you'd stopped reading again, Logan perked up. "Why?" You brought your knees to your chest to hug them. "I don't know, it's stupid. Maybe the longer I read to you, the longer you'll be around to hear it," you paused to sniffle, "I can't imagine not having you to read to."
If he wasn't already dying, that would've killed him on the spot. Logan took a deep breath through battered lungs. "You gotta. Books don't just stop because you want them to. They need an ending, and it's there regardless of how long you wait on one page." His words sounded harsher than he'd intended, but he couldn't bear the thought of you lingering on him and never finishing your story.
As soon as he saw your lip quivering, he wondered if he should've kept his mouth shut. Still, he pulled you into one of the tightest hugs his fleeting strength would allow. The wetness of your tears were like thousands of needles in his heart. Logan patted your back softly, listening as you seemed to be crying yourself to sleep. "G'night. You know I'll always love you." Quieter, he whispered, "that's the only part of the ending that won't change."
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x y/n#wolverine imagine#wolverine#old man logan
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Some concept art for a discarted comic idea.
But I ended up adapting the script to a fanfic! (It's a little rough and I'm new to writing, so any feedback is welcome) Omori spoilers ahead.
The events of this story happens sometime after Mari's funeral.
///
It's sunset time with blue and soft pink tints all over the urban scenery. Basil is finishing tying up the velcro of his sandals to go out. Grabbing the door knob, he turns his head back to leave one final message before leaving.
"I'll be back soon, grandma!"
There's a chilling breeze outside and the streets are eerily empty. But Basil prefer this way. His head is full of thoughts, he needs the space. Approaching his destination, he stops looking at the sidewalk and lifts his head. He finally spot a living soul a bit ahead of him.
It's Kel. He's in front of Sunny's house. Kel seems to hesitate for a while, but gathers courage and knocks on the door. He vigorously give three consecutive knocks.
"That's a bit too much." Basil observes. Good old Kel.
It doesn't take too long for the door to open, and Sunny's mom appears. She has a dull look in her eyes. She's tired.
"Oh, it's you, Kelsey…" She looks over his shoulder. "and Basil."
Kel also looks back. Basil is suddenly there, a few steps of distance.
"What can I do for you two?"
"Uh." Kel is a little surprised with Basil's presence, but figured out he came for the same reason as him. "Can I- Can we talk to Sunny?"
"Hm…" She looks away before answering. "He's a little more unresponsive than usual..."
Basil feels a pinch of pain in his stomach.
"I wasn't able to talk to him since… the funeral." Kel fidgets a little. "I want to let him know he can count on us!"
Sunny's mom mouth corner's change to a soft, yet warm smile.
"Well, I'm sure he would appreciate to hear from you two, at least."
She steps back, opening the door welcoming the boys in. Kel perks up and calls Basil with a hand gesture. They enter the house.
"He's at their- at his room."
At the living room, the boys can see the glass door that leads to the backyard, highlighted with a menacing reddish orange light of the last sunrays. Kel immediatelly changes his attention to Sunny's mom back, while Basil has a hard time moving away his focus from it. They arrive at the staircase. Kel doesn't think twice and steps halfway through it. Basil freezes.
"Basil?" Kel calls out for him.
Basil tries to hide his anxiety and replies "C-coming!"
They are at front of Sunny's room, Sunny's mother a little further, to give the boys some space. Kel knocks the door, but this time, more gently.
"Sunny? It's Kel and Basil!" No reply.
Basil gives a quick look back at the staircase and Something starts crawling around him.
"Sunny." Kel starts again, leaning his hand on the door. "Sorry for not talking to you until now. But you know that we're here for you, right?" Kel sends a signal to Basil by raising his eyebrows and tilting his head towards the door, asking him to join.
Basil desperately tries to find the words. But the truth is, he wasn't expecting Sunny's mom, much less Kel's presence. It's not that he didn't have anything to say. He couldn't say anything he wanted to.
The creeping silence started to bother Kel, so he continued instead.
"Oh, I know! If you want, we can have a sleepover!" No reply. "Uh, it doesn't need to be anything fancy! We don't need to play games or eat snacks… We don't even need to talk. Just have each other's company, y'know?"
Kel smiled as he placed his other hand and ear to the door, waiting for the answer. He believed his idea was too good to be turned down. No reply.
"Sunny?" More silence.
Sunny's mom sighs, ready to call Kel and Basil back. Kel moves away from the door. He starts playing with his hoodie strings, looking a little less bright than before.
"Don't worry about it, it's okay." He did his best to hold a smile "I totally understand if you just need time alone."
"…like Hero." He completes under his breath, almost a whisper.
Another wave of silence. Is Sunny ignoring them? Is he even listening? Basil's mind go blank as he stares at the door.
"We'll come back tomorrow!" Kel bursts. The "we" took Basil by surprise.
"R-right! We'll be back tomorrow, Sunny." Basil faintly addes to the farewell.
Kel gives one last knock on the door, and starts walking away. Basil follows him.
"Oh, kids…"
"Can we really come back tomorrow?" Basil asks.
"Oh, yes, you may come… I'll let you know if he's available or not." It wasn't very reassuring.
After one last goodbye, the two boys leave the house. A few steps later, they stop in front of Kel's house. Before Basil could say anything, Kel apologizes.
"I'm sorry you couldn't say much. I hogged all the time for myself."
"N-not really. I wasn't sure what to say, anyway…"
"Isn't it strange, though? Sunny… He doesn't like to be alone, why would he…?" Kel stops and shakes his head. "We just have to try again tomorrow!" Kel smiles seems forced, Basil notices.
"W-well… See you tomorrow, then?"
"No, wait- let me walk you home!"
"O-okay." Basil let him be.
In the middle of the walk, Kel turns to Basil.
"I still didn't talk to Aubrey either. Did you?" Basil shakes his head. "I thought about visiting her too, but- I think I'm the last person she would want to see." Basil thought the same of himself, but kept silent about it.
Kel is a open book, he has no reason to hide his emotions and usually can be very blunt with his honesty. But something feels off today. Or since then. That day. Looking better, Basil notices Kel was using a navy colored hoodie at least two sizes larger than it should be. A small letter "H" was embroidered on it. Kel would use passed down clothes from Hero, but this one was clearly borrowed before its time.
He was lonely too.
Soon, Basil's home is right around the corner.
"Hm, actually." Basil starts. "I promised grandma I was going to buy a few things at the convenience store. Do you want to tag along…?" Kel snorts in reply. Was Basil trying to cheer him up?
"Sure, let's go! But let's be quick, mom won't like if I come home too late." He skips ahead.
"Wait! The store is on the opposite direction!"
"Oh!!"
///
It's night. Between the interval of a lightpost to another, Kel can't stand the silence anymore.
"Aah, I should have brought some pocket money!" He comes closer to Basil, using his hand to shield the conversation like he was about to confide a secret. "But I already spent all my allowance."
Basil wasn't expecting chit-chat, but wasn't too surprised either. It kind of gave him a sense of normality.
"…Hero always scolds me for spending it too quickly.
Like everything that happened was just a bad dream…
"But Mari would always treat me instead!"
A shiver passes through Basil's spine.
"Are you cold?" Kel opens his arms as invinting for a hug.
"No, I'm okay!"
Kel stops and rewinds what he just said.
"Sorry."
"N-no, don't be." Basil almost regrets calling Kel over. The uncomfortable silence is back, until Kel broke it again.
"I'll be more careful with my money from now on."
"?"
"So I can be the one who treat everyone out! How is that?"
"Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"
"What? You understimate me!!"
Basil slips a weak smile. Kel smiles back, like he planned it from the beggining. They continue their walk.
///
At the convenience store, Basil goes straight to what he went for. To kill time, Kel explores around until something take his attention at the candy area. Basil approaches too see what was so interesting. Kel only notices his presence after a while.
"Eek!" Kel was startled.
"…Are you going to ask for borrowed money?" Basil teases.
"No!! I was just looking… See, there's everyone's favorite flavor today…"
Basil identifies each flavor and silently pick them up.
They leave the store and Kel lifts his lollipop over his head.
"Basil, you're the best!" The compliment take Basil aback.
"It's just candy…"
"Yeah, it's just candy." Basil didn't expect him to agree so fast.
"It's the thought that counts!"
Basil just nods.
///
They arrive at Basil's house again.
"We're here!" Kel announces the obvious.
"Y-yeah."
Basil moves ahead to the door.
"See you tomorrow!!"
Basil stops.
"S-sure."
///
Basil is welcomed by his grandma with tea and cookies. Putting the groceries aside and with a cup in hands, he stares at the lollipops over the kitchen's table. Strawberry, watermelon and grape. He thinks back when Kel pointed that everyones flavors were available. All six of them. He shrugs the thought away.
Kel is on his way back, already appreciating his orange lollipop, while waving the cola flavored one in the air. He wonders when he'll be able to deliver the little gift. He wonders when he'll be able to talk to Hero again. Or to any of his friends for that matter. He shrugs the thought away.
THE END
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