#i need to like. read her dialogue as I write to lay my thoughts out bc i know i miss stuff otherwise

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

Thoughts on the New Grima Forging Bonds (Wakened Dark)

I SPENT ALL DAY GRINDING THESE CONVERSATIONS AND I HAVE OPINIONS

This is going to be long and full of screenshots, so let's have a read more...

Okay, I'm going to start with m!Grima's chain because I found it the most disappointing...

I was excited for this one before I actually read it, because they'd announced that both Chrom and Tiki would be in it, but... Unfortunately, I REALLY think that whoever wrote this just wasn't a big Awakening fan. Because it did NOT feel like Chrom and Tiki talking. Their characterization was so flat, their dialogue so generic and uninteresting... And I swear it felt like none of these characters had ever met each other before. It's particularly egregious in Chrom's case, because it was specifically legendary Chrom, and he is explicitly a version of himself who sealed Grima away. He knows Grima! And Grima DEFINITELY knows Chrom... I mean, given that we know how Grima interacts with Chrom in Awakening, I have to say it's outright OOC for Grima not to start McFreaking Losing It the moment he lays eyes on Chrom... Again, I suspect that whoever had to write this just didn't have a good feel for how these characters would interact with each other.

It's especially a shame because legendary Chrom could have had some AMAZING dialogue with Grima... The way he says "There are times when it feels as if you are entombed in darkness, like you will never see light again…" in his level 40 conversation, like he's remembering the weight of his own darkness as he speaks... I don't know, I just think it would have been really nice for him to be able to tell Grima about that. Grima seems to believe that their existence is proof that despair is inevitable, but what they assume alongside that is that it's FINAL. If Grima's existence in Askr proves that despair comes for us all, then Chrom's proves that it doesn't have to be the end, that even if you fall you can still get back up again. Sometimes you just need someone to give you their hand.

... So yeah, I'm very sad about what we COULD have got there.

BUT! All is not lost with this one for me, because MEDEUS ended up saying something INCREDIBLY interesting...

My god... "An imitation of a dragon such as you." OKAY FIRST OF ALL, WHAT THE FUCK? Medeus you ASSHOLE. I know Grima was being generally malicious and threatening to destroy, like, the one thing keeping Medeus's fellow earth dragons from going on a degeneration-powered rampage (so y'know, a bit of a sore subject for him, I would assume), but WOW it is really not cool to tell a dragon that they aren't a real dragon in your eyes! And the worst part is that he goes on to say...

He "senses" that Grima's soul and power are not those of a "pure dragon." DOES THAT MEAN EVERY DRAGON CAN TELL??? (Side note, I thought when Tiki showed up she was going to say something about how Grima's power is very similar to hers... Because, you know, that's the very first thing she ever says to Robin in Awakening and all... but alas, yet another missed opportunity).

I mean, I assume nobody can tell EXACTLY what Forneus did, but... Ugh, with this one line Grima just instantly became the most relatable character in Fire Emblem. UGH... There's something Wrong with you and everybody you know can't stand you because they just Know. Show of hands, who feels that one a little too personally?

And okay, we already knew that Grima longs to be part of humanity but was never accepted as one of them, and it was pretty obvious that he didn't exactly have any dragon besties running around either, but... this just confirms that Grima would not have been given a warm welcome from the dragon population after getting out of Thabes. Ugh... UGH!!! This HURTS!!! Grima really REALLY never stood a chance of living a normal life, huh...

So yeah, they actually hit such a home run with this scene that I can't even be too furious that they forgot to come back and finish the game. I'm... just going to ignore everything that happens after the B conversation. That wasn't the real Chrom and Tiki, it was just a nightmare caused by Grima's inner turmoil after his conversation with Medeus, naturally 🙃

Now... Onto F!Grima's conversations!

These were... shockingly good, actually??? I admit I'm a little bitter only because they're clearly and extension of the Brave Robins' Forging Bonds, which I hate with my whole heart (F!Robin's especially, which was truly unforgivable in its treatment of Grima. Like, completely out of touch with both Awakening and FEH itself's sympathetic leaning towards the tragic villain). But this one was just... SO much better that it's kind of ridiculous.

For starters, even though FEH is going with a bizarre—as in, this is the first time they have EVER said anything like this—interpretation that these Grimas' "hearts and minds have melded" with Robin's (I... think they might be confusing the original timeline with the Future Past... Again. Honestly, I feel like 99% of the reason they can't get a grip on Grima's plotline is because Future Past wasn't clear enough about what was happening and thus most people did NOT understand that Future Past is what happens when Grima wins in the Endgame chapter, i.e. the "Grima" we see there is in fact two people, the Robin who became the fell dragon and went back in time + their past self who resisted them)... Grima here is actually speaking pretty in-character and correctly identifying with the other Robins.

She speaks of "OUR purpose" so yeah, she does seem to think she's one of them. FINALLY, some good f!Grima characterization! (Rearmed Grima's Forging Bonds was also not super great, although to e fair, they retconned absolutely everything about its entire plotline, so... I think it's safe to disregard it).

And when she speaks with her other selves... Oh, it's just adorable! I especially loved Summer Robin's dialogue...

She's so cute... And I love, love, LOVE that they go on to then show Halloween F!Grima acting EXACTLY the same way.

I love her...

Okay, so we've got cute and funny and very charming writing. I would have been happy enough if that's all they gave us, but no, they actually continue and give us some really INTERESTING dialogue, too.

So... I'm speculating a bit here, because in typical Grima fashion, she refuses to explain herself, but... What I think is happening is that she was searching for a Robin who was like her.

The whole time, Grima has been aghast that the other Robins she's been meeting are so unserious, apparently just goofing around and having a good time. But Brave Robin comes in and she's very serious. She's determined, unyielding. She's what Grima wants to see in herself.

Except, she's also full of hope and love. Grima goes on to say...

This Robin is like her and this is what happened to her. Loathe as I am to return to the Brave Robins' Forging Bonds, I think we have to consider something that m!Grima (uh... that is... og m!Grima... Fallen M!Robin?) said in Brave M!Robin's conversations—"We came here to warn you, out of pity."

It seems to me, therefore, that what Grima really wanted to do here was find a version of Robin who was clearly everything she herself used to be, and... warn herself. Just give up now, because you can't escape what you are and you'll hurt all the more for trying so hard.

So, yeah... I REALLY liked this chain of conversations. I mean, of course I did. They basically boil down to "Grima is absolutely still Robin," after all.

Seriously. Like... what else could they have possibly intended the audience to understand here but "Grima is still Robin"? Not only do we have Summer Robin and Halloween F!Grima acting the very same way, we also have THIS...

Outright confirming that they're the "same soul." Now, you COULD make the argument that because these "fallen Robins" haven't completely awakened the fell dragon's full powers yet (which... is another "bizarre" thing that FEH is mentioning for the very first time right now... Like, it was pretty clear before that what HAPPENED was that Grima LOST power traveling between worlds... Like, you know, what happened in Awakening...), Robin hasn't fully melded with Grima's soul yet, but... Not only does that not really make much sense (the fallen Robin alts are always yelling that they are the fell dragon, Grima), we can also counter the idea of that being a distinguishing factor by looking at the final line Brave Robin gives...

In other words, Brave Robin is off to do with her other "good" selves the EXACT thing that Grima was just doing with the other fell Robins.

WHICH MAKES SENSE WHEN THEY'RE VARIATIONS OF THE SAME SOUL.

Ahem... Yeah. This Forging Bonds... was for me...

And finally, let's talk about the main story conversations.

I thought these were pretty interesting, because... It kind of seems like the Grimas lost on purpose?

Well, okay, actually, I'll start by saying that these conversations did seem to suffer a bit from the same problem that m!Grima's conversations did, which is that these characters KNOW EACH OTHER, but you'd think that Grima had no idea who Tharja and Noire were... Like, Grima definitely ought to know exactly what Noire's skills and abilities are, given how long they've spent hunting her and the other children down! And it's hard to imagine that they would seriously underestimate her. And on one hand, I think that part of this is just lackluster writing caused by a lack of real familiarity with Awakening itself.

However... I ALSO think that it becomes a LOT more forgivable when you consider that Grima is almost certainly faking some things here. Let's look at what Tharja says when she reveals that she has bound them...

The Grimas are not thrilled about this, of course. But... they also aren't particularly surprised or upset? When Grima is upset, they tend to get... capslock-y. And these Grimas certainly have got some capslock-y dialogue in other places. But not here.

This is their "all according to keikaku" voice. They are not actually upset.

Which, when you think about it, makes complete sense, because the idea that Tharja, known dark magic user, could put a curse on them WITHOUT them having ANY idea is... a little hard to buy, isn't it? And here's the thing, too...

They didn't even try to beat Noire.

Now, I guess you could argue that it's a tortoise-and-the-hare kind of situation, and Grima's own arrogance is their undoing, but... Again, how could a couple of extremely magically powerful dragons COMPLETELY MISS Tharja casting a spell, and how could they have NO idea how fast Noire is even though she's been running from them her whole life, and why do they so easily accept their defeat with only some minor insults? Well, it all makes sense if in fact they secretly decided to let her go.

I mean, the Grimas came to Askr for a reason... And the reason actually ISN'T human destruction. Now, I'm not entirely convinced that this "destroy all the Fire Emblems in every world" plan actually makes sense (especially because Robin needs the Fire Emblem to awaken their power... although... I DO think it would be rather compelling if that is the exact thing they are hoping to stop deep down), but I definitely thought it was an interesting idea. People would give up fighting if they had no hope to believe in, so all conflict would come to an end...

The logic is twisted of course, but it actually does make sense coming from Grima. Grima really doesn't like fighting...

Much to think about.

So yeah, that's all I have to say about this Forging Bonds (at the moment, anyway... lol I may have more to say later). There were a lot of hit-and-miss moments, but boy did the hits sure hit hard. Overall, I actually got a lot out of these conversations and am very excited to see how I can work some of these details into my fics in the future!

[lingulaca]

Whisper of Pleasure

Prince Jacaerys finds himself enamored with an angel after she helps him relieve all of his stress left behind from the living world.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ pairing - jacaerys velaryon x dara (an oc)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ word count - 1,665

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ includes/warnings - jace getting his first blowjob, light light super light angst like it's barely sad, fluffy smut

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ author's note - jacela not being endgame literally hurts my soul so don't mind the mentions of baela i need them to be together for eternity. my first hotd smut im not used to writing dialogue like this hhhhh

The Prince rose from what could only be described as a hallucinogenic half-slumber. One moment, he swore he and his consciousness had disappeared entirely and the next, he found himself on some sort of fluffy surface with a beautiful lady in front of him. He gasped, air rushing into his lungs for a moment. "Who... are you?" He started to feel dizzy, but in a good way. "I'm Dara," The grinning lady announced. "and you're Jacaerys." Jace blinked. He had half a mind to ask her where she got this information, but after observing his surroundings he ultimately determines that he's died and went to the heavens. 'Baela,' he thinks, 'I've left her all alone...'

"It's okay," Dara starts. "She'll be here with you soon. Or, um, one day I mean..." Jace shook his head as he sat up, noticing all of his physical pain was gone and he was given new clean clothes. He'd read about the heavens as a child, and prayed to the Gods more times than was probably necessary for his brothers but he never imagined the space to be so... comforting. A selfish thought makes its way to his brain, though he does not mean for it to. "She will marry someone else." He means it as a question, it comes out as a statement. "She won't, her heart won't let her. She loves you a lot." The angel, Dara, grabbed hold of both of his hands. She pauses for a moment. "You're Baela's soulmate and she misses you greatly." Jacaerys allows his fingers to intertwine with the angel's. If he'll be here forever he might as well stop being sad and enjoy his time, right? The sentiment isn't enough to stop the immediate flow of tears. He's left all his strength on Earth, he supposes.

Dara holds him closely, her body naturally molding to his. She doesn't think of herself as the calming or soothing type so she chooses to say nothing, hoping her actions are enough. Her efforts do not go unnoticed when Jacaerys' hands wrap tightly around her waist. "I miss my mother. A- and Baela... I don't want her to marry another." He sniffles, thinking of how crushed Rhaenyra will be to learn she's lost yet another son. Dara can tell he's been holding back for quite a while. During his living years, he only allowed himself to cry in front of Baela. Bottled up emotions would overflow, causing him to routinely end up sobbing late at night as she cuddled him in her chambers. "I know." Dara feels Jacaerys' hands grip her even tighter. If angels were capable of pain, it would hurt a whole lot. When he finally looks up at her, doing so as if she were the one component necessary to fix him, his eyes are red and his lip trembles. She kisses his forehead while combing through his hair with her fingers. "Everything will be alright in the end." Her protective embrace is the first good thing he's felt in a while. Ease washes over him. "You really think so...?" Dara's smile returns at Jacaerys' stuttered inquiry. "I know so."

🕊️

Jacaerys lies down on the soft, barely-there clouds upon Dara's request. She figured he wasn't quite ready to be met by all of his relatives just yet so the two were now on Mother's Layer, by far the quietest and least hectic of all the heavens. Children were having quiet time, most choosing to lay near Mother herself as she read to them. "This is where I stay," Dara got comfortable next to the Prince. "Thank you... for all this." Jacaerys felt silly thanking an angel, after all helping humans adjust to the afterlife was simply one of her many tasks. She kissed him again, this time directly on the head. Jacaerys felt his face heat up. He was never truly able to let his guard down this much when he was alive. Nights with his betrothed ended with sex more often than not, though neither of them could fully enjoy it beyond the physical aspect on account of the responsibilities weighing on both of their minds.

"You're... very lovely." He mutters. "The lovely one is you, my child." She replies. Being called a 'child' by a heavenly being who looked no more than a year under him in age made him chuckle. Dara is suddenly close, right next to Jacaerys. "I can't be as lovely as you, I..." He stops, his cheeks heating up at the mere thought of what he was about to admit. "I know." Dara places her hand in his, her warmth making him tingle internally. "I know you've sinned. All humans have." Jace sighs and clears his throat awkwardly. "I didn't mean to." He feels the need to prove himself, be more holy in the presence of someone so perfect. "It's okay... you seem tense." She observes quietly. Tense doesn't begin to describe it. At first, Jacaerys thought he could overcome his lust, thinking that perhaps such feelings went away in the heavens. Even so, looking away from Dara's angelic unclothed body and instead directing his focus to her face didn't help him any. Her eyes, colored like the moon and just as captivating, stared into his soul as if she could tell what he was planning on saying before he could. He wanted to hold her, to have her all to himself forever. He wanted to be greedy for the first time in his life.

"Jace?" Dara smirked. Since she could, in fact, read the Prince's, no, her Prince's mind she knew of his true unspoken feelings. He snaps out of it and stops making eyes at her. "Sorry..." His expression is equal parts cheeky and embarrassed. Dara giggles, standing up and turning away. "Come," Jacaerys, curious as ever, obeys her command and follows her to a large room. It had no ceiling, so Jace could look up to see more clouds and the occasional angel flying high up above.

Dara had an unconventional method of relaxation in mind, one that she was sure would work. She'd heard of it first from Father, who was swiftly quieted by Mother for mentioning such concepts within earshot of her "innocent angels", as she so lovingly called them. Dara wanted to be the best angel she could be, rising above her siblings and hoarding all of Mother's praise and affection for herself, so she couldn't possibly be doing anything bad. Additionally, she had a desire to take care of Jacaerys, which included caring for his needs as well. 'Mother knows my heart.' She told herself, 'She won't care if I indulge just a little this once.'

"Jacaerys?" She called out. He was sitting across from her bed as he observed her belongings with a look of awe on his face, being careful not to touch any of the items she had packed into the golden-red box. "Yes?" He answered, not moving from his spot. He was entranced by the glimmer of a purple harp that was placed under her bed. "I think I know what would make you feel better." "Hm?" Jace wondered what tricks Dara had up her sleeve. "You could say no if you want, but —" "Why would I say no?" Jacaerys wasn't suspicious at all of the angel's intentions. Dara takes this as a sign and sits in front of him, their knees touching in an effortlessly intimate way. She then, after waiting a moment for Jace to actually look at her even through his nervousness, pushes him down gently so he lays on the carpet.

"Dara...? What's this?" Dara's hands started at Jace's shoulders and then trailed down. She shushed him, her right hand resting on his bulge. His eyes widened. "Dara!" He whisper-shouted, sitting up a bit now so that he was leaning against the wall. Dara could only smile, feigning innocence. The two exchanged curious expressions, a minute's silence is taken before Jacaerys decides to let Dara work her godly magic. In an instant, his pants are tugged down to his knees, exposing his obvious hardness, which Dara gazes at with much interest. "Wow." Hesitantly, she takes just the tip into her mouth at first. "Mmm..." She hums, lips wrapped around Jacaerys' cock. The taste is sweet in a way and unlike anything she's ever had before. Carefully, she lets the rest of his cock slip past her lips. It twitches in her mouth as her tongue glides up the side of it. Jace's whole body starts to feel hot, hands grasping at the soft surface below to keep himself grounded. "Dara - Dara, I..." He inhales sharply, cursing himself for almost finishing so soon.

Dara handles her Prince with feathery softness, her warm and wet inviting mouth enveloping his cock each time she moves her head down. Jacaerys' noises fill the room, ranging from gasps to proper whimpers and moans. "Dara, angel, I can't..." A delicious ache once thought to be unachievable forms deep inside him. He feels lightheaded, but not in a bad way, he feels all of his troubles being lifted away and cast aside with every nudge of his tip to the back of his angel's throat. He moans her name one last time when releasing in her mouth, her fingers digging firmly into his thighs.

Dara stays still for about three seconds as to not spill any of the thick, sticky liquid before coming up for air at last. Her tongue swirls around in her mouth to savor the foreign taste. She hums, sitting up next to Jacaerys who looks her up and down with half-lidded eyes. He's completely amazed, feeling like he's just entered two new worlds in one day, one literally and one figuratively.

"I can never repay you." Dara fully digests Jace's words while watching him fumble to stuff himself back in his trousers. "You don't have to..." She kisses her Prince on his lips sweetly, making him taste himself.

[vitanithepure]

Can we talk about Gale again? And Mystra, one last time? Or at least let me vent? I know it seems like I can't shut up about it, but deal with me this one last time?

It's a long one, an fervent one, and possibly the last one on their relationship because there isn't much to tell for me after this. I just want to lay it to rest on my part, it's too emotionally draining, but I wanted to do this.

Spoilers for them ahead.

It was some time ago I did the talk with Mystra and Gale as an origin character and I needed some time to process this and gather my thoughts. Because I was left reeling with how personal it felt for me and I hated seeing that to bo honest, even though I think whoever did write this scene did it... very well. I feel a lot of thought went into it, so even though it does touch a delicate subject it does it as tastefully as possible.

Okay, let's begin with a real banger.

Why? This will forever read as "I gave you a solution, explain yourself why you didn't die when I asked you to." for me. What kind of messed up question is that to ask someone?

But can I say how there is absolutely no wrong anwser to that asinine question? You can roleplay however you wish, but none of them are bad anwsers. Some of them are more heartbreaking then the others, but none are in any way making excuses. There is nothing to excuse and I'm glad whoever wrote this dialogue recognized this.

I chose the "I have someone else to live for" one here, because I felt that Gale, at this point, really found that special someone, be it a friend or lover, to live for. It's gut-wrenching that he needed someone to keep him alive in the first place, but this is what having an abusive ex does to you.

But the other choices here? All of them fair. She absolutely had no right to ask that of him, no matter the crime, that's just a fucked up thing to expect.

Being afraid to die? Valid, this shouldn't be put up to question.

Two last ones? Pure gold. I treat the fourth one as a direct jab at her own teachings, on how all magic needs to be preserved and studied? It's like him saying "Hey, I did what you expected and now your mad?".

The very last one is poetic justice. "I owe you nothing." and if that were me this would be the absolute end of this discussion. Mic drop, I'm out of here.

And okay, I did take he self-pity route with "I let you down." here becuase this is what I believe is closest to how "canon" Gale feels about this. That's the most heartbreaking thing about it, that he believes he was not worth enough before and is even less now and doesn't deserve love, of any kind.

What are the other options? Well, all in character and each seems like a valid way for Gale to feel. But me, the player, who is fortunate to know some meta knowledge? Oh boy.

"I was a danger to you." No you weren't. She is the goddess of magic, one of the most powerful out here. She is magic. All you could do is make her day worse.

"I disobeyed you." Yeah, you did. And she sentenced you to a slow death for it.

"You were threatened." Eh, not really. But what comes after that statement? "You realised you couldn't control me."? Yes, that is the only thing she felt threatened about - loosing control.

"Our relationship bored you. The orb was just an excuse to end it." I mean... maybe? Not enough is known about it but seeing how all reincarnations of Mystra are fickle lovers at best I would say it's a possibility. Even if it is just his ego speaking here - damn, what a way to end a relationship.

She has the audacity to tell him "he only thought of himself". Pot calling the kettle much?

Oooh, but I love what we can say here. The amout of vicious call outs here is superb.

We get to call out how much of a control freak she is. Then we can say how out of place was her punishment. Because I feel like it was a fucking equivalent of throwing a child into a dark cellar for breaking your favorite cup, while all they wanted to do was wash it for you. That is how imbalanced this whole thing is and I'm not taking criticism on that.

We also get to straight up ask what was the lesson if she never let him know what he really did and left him without means to make things right?

Then my favorite. Straight up ask her how many lives was she willing to sacrifice to get rid of the problem?

And last but not least - call her out on her lies. That's what she did. Why? I don't know. Was she afraid? Possibly, because the Karsite Weave + Crown of Karsus combo could potentially threaten her. Potentially, because as we saw in one of the Gale endings, she has no problem with just getting rid of a newly ascended god wielding them. That leads me to believe she is not afraid of loosing power as much as just being rivaled with. The indignity she has to suffer, truly.

Hit a nail on the head here. Who cares about mortals, if they live or die and in how many droves? Competition comes knocking, so all gloves are off. And that is what I believe to be the crux of the matter. Mystra wants to remove the Absolute (because that's the new upstart god breaking the status quo), the orb containing he rival Weave, the Crown which threatens her rule over magic all in one swoop. Oh, and that one guy who tries too hard and refuses to die. No biggie. Who cares, she has a line of followers who would replace her Chosen at any given time.

I'm a salty bitch over the fact we can't keep the Crown of Karsus, but instead of using it - just hide it away again. Stablize Gale's Karsite Weave and keep that thing around, hidden away. Let her sweat over the idea someone else might find it one day and rival her rule.

I know I'm way too emotional about it, but like I said, it's very personal - I been there, done that, and never recovered in full after it. I'll die defending anyone and any pixels who are struggling with their self-worth and trying to get over an emotionally abusive relationships.

"Be the better person, die saving the world and I'll 'forgive' you." Fuck. You.

And a bonus, for those of you who stuck around till the end, because I was totally naming the screens and yelling at my monitor while doing this.

[jowiththeflow]

Hey. Chapter 9. Holy fuck. Once again I'm reduced to rabid chewing. I simply Cannot. There Is So Much. Shoko realising she's fucked up so tossing Yuuji to the wolves (Satoru), because for some reason Yuuji doesn't mind. Satoru thinking that he's noticed that and he's not thinking that. He's not. Ten minutes later he's in Yuuji's dorm and on his bed and Yuuji continues not to mind. And what they discuss!! That whole conversation!! That whole scene!! Yuuji can name his scars and joke about his family tree but he can't discuss Sukuna. In third person, he calls himself a "desperate kid" who did it to save his friends. "Things went downhill from there." says the seventeen-year-old time traveller discussing the future with his dead teacher's teenage self. YUUJI PUTS HIS HEAD ON SATORU'S STOMACH. There was so much. I am losing my mind. This was beautiful. Thank You

MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES. I thought I responded to this weeks ago. As it turns out, I didn't. I am a victim of my ADHD.

But I'm so glad you loved chapter 9!! Rabid chewing!!! The thing that I love about Entombed is that as I'm writing it, I tend to just be doing all my setup dialogue and plot introductions in subtle little ways. And then when I read through the chapters, part of me is always like, "Everyone is going to think this is just filler. They're going to think it's just filler and they're going to hate it." But no one ever does! And for that I'm so grateful to all of you.

I like to think a lot about characters as they become and as they are when I work on Entombed. Shoko, for instance, always gave this impression of detachment in canon, where yes you would occasionally see her talking to Satoru or Nanami or whoever, but she wasn't involved. She wasn't on the front lines fighting alongside them. And then when you see the canon version of Gojo's past and the Hidden Inventory Arc, I can see where that originates. When Satoru and Suguru start arguing she leaves the room. When they go on missions she stays home. When they train with each other she stands off to the side and records data if they need data recorded, or participates in very small ways. Obviously, sorcerers die a lot in the world of jujutsu. I think Shoko is in a unique position where she is responsible for that. She is the only person that saves these people that throw their lives at saving others, and I think she resorted to detaching herself to make that easier when she doesn't succeed. In Entombed, I think Yuuji forces her to interact with the others a little mor than she used to before, but I don't think she knows how to do it. She's always been separate from them. So, for me, a huge part of her story is this forced reintroduction, where she finds herself, more and more often, taking the role of a friend that she used to avoid.

And Satoru and Yuuji! They derail so many of my scenes from how I planned them to go (this example included) but I love them for it. Yuuji's feelings about Satoru are so complex, due to the duality of knowing both adult Satoru, his teacher, and teenage Satoru, his friend. Yuuji is so broken, and I couldn't resist the temptation of him laying his head on the part of Satoru that used to be broken like that too.

Thank you, as always, for reading the story and sending me this ask!!

[quibble-auk]

Little writing thing for my OCs part two:

Previous

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This one is a little shorter. But I also don’t like it all that much. Someone here sucks at dialogue and it shows haha

Im good at writing mental breakdowns and that’s about it…. Don’t think about that too much. I read Les mes (as previously mentioned) and those were my favorite parts of the book.

WARNINGS!: I mean there’s a description of how someone died… idk if it’s graphic but. Yk violence… death…

Valkyrie lay numbly on the medberth as Dropmix—a hulking, black-and-red medic—fussed quietly over her wounds. His movements were surgical, yet every motion seemed to carry the weight of something more. A care that felt too gentle for someone in the middle of a warzone.

And then there was the music. Always, the music. When Dropmix was around, there was always this quiet hum—gentle, melancholic notes that were soothing, an unexpected constant amidst the chaos. Valkyrie had never imagined she'd come to associate the medical bay with quiet music, but over the years, the melodies had become as ingrained in her mind as the scent of antiseptic.

“What’d you get yourself into?” Dropmix asked, pulling Valkyrie from her thoughts. He looked up at her from where he was currently cleaning up the welds from where he had reattached a leg earlier. He looked at her expectantly.

Valkyrie didn’t respond immediately, her mind heavy with the image of Bluerunner’s lifeless body. Of Sunrazor, standing above him, an energon soaked boot pressing mercilessly against Bluerunner as her attention drifted elsewhere. Like he had been nothing.

Usually, Valkyrie might have smiled and waved it off as just a standard battle injury. A Decepticon got the upperhand on her for a moment, or she didn’t react fast enough. She didn’t though, she couldn’t bring herself to smile and laugh it off. Bluerunner was dead because she didn’t shoot, because she froze. He was dead and somehow, Sunrazor lived.

She shrugged.

Dropmix huffed slightly at her lackluster response. He placed down his tool on a small tray nearby—Valkyrie could have sworn the music got quieter—and leaned forward, resting his weight on his arm, and gave her a look. The one that said "At this point, I might as well be a therapist."

“Does it have something to do with Bluerunner?” his voice was calm, though tinged with an edge of understanding,

Valkyrie didn’t bother to respond. It did have to do with Bluerunner. He was gone. She had dealt with loss plenty of times, it wasn’t new, but he had always been there. Through it all, Bluerunner had been there to help and comfort. He was the one to pull her together after she lost Sunrazor— no, she didn’t lose her. Sunrazor was alive.

But Bluerunner was dead.

“Valkyrie,” Dropmix said softly, “I’m here. You can talk to me,”

But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not about Bluerunner, not about the guilt that was strangling her from the inside out. How would she even begin to explain Sunrazor? What she was before and what she became. Valkyrie would rather do anything than admit her own faults, her failure to save Bluerunner, to help Sunrazor. Instead, she turned her attention to the music, a soft deflection.

“Where do you even get your music?” Valkyrie asked, her voice strained, trying to push away the weight of everything she couldn’t say. She needed a distraction. She needed to escape, even if only for a moment.

The look he gave her was a knowing one. Dropmix was aware of her deflecting, dancing round the topic. For some reason, he didn't do anything about it. He indulged her attempt to distract. He still answered her.

“Dubious contacts,” he said, the words flat but with a trace of humor. Then his expression shifted, something darker flashing in his eyes before he looked back at his work, a weight behind his gaze she couldn’t ignore.

She watched Dropmix, his hands moving methodically as he checked the welds on her repaired leg. He was so calm, so steady, as if the chaos of war, of loss, didn’t touch him at all. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he had found a way to keep the world at arm's length, to turn everything into background noise while he worked, while he healed. Would it have made much of a difference for him if Bluerunner had survived and she had been the one killed?

“Dubious contacts,” she repeated his words softly, testing the response. Valkyrie returned her gaze to the ceiling and allowed her thoughts to wander. The image of Bluerunner's lifeless body lingered in her mind as Dropmix worked, the memories flooding back like a tidal wave.

~~~~~~~~~

“Bluerunner!” she screamed, voice raw and static filled. She stumbled forward from the temporary cover she had found, towards where something was approaching her friend. “Watch out!”

“What-” the deep blue mech began, looking up at Valkyrie—not at the danger—but never got to finish. Within moments a large metal boot had crashed down onto his back, crushing the small thrusters there.

Valkyrie stumbled, tripping on the discarded body of some poor bot. She crashed to the ground, her wrist twisting painfully beneath her as she tried to cushion her fall. She bit back a cry of pain but kept her eyes fixed on Bluerunner. No, no, no.

“NO!” She could hear her voice box crackle as it strained. “Bluerunner!”

He was struggling now, desperate to free himself, pushing against the foot that kept him pinned. His hands scratched at the metal, reaching for the gun he had dropped, just out of reach. Bluerunner writhed under the growing pressure, shuddering as he was pressed further into the ground below, armor groaning as it buckled beneath the weight.

Valkyrie pushed herself up, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her arm. She had to reach him. She had to do something. “Bluerunner, hold on!” She ran towards him, she wouldn’t get there in time. She raised her blaster up, taking aim at the Decepticon.

At Sunrazor, her processor corrected— wait what?

The sickening crack of metal finally giving under pressure was the only answer, followed by a cut-off scream that tore through the air.

Bluerunner stopped moving.

The mech that couldn’t be Sunrazor—because Sunrazor was dead, she’d been dead for a long time now—stood over Bluerunner’s body, energon smeared over their plating, grime and dust gathering in the seams. There was no expression on their face. There was no recognition, no flicker of life as they stared at another mech, raising a massive blaster and firing with earth-shattering intensity.

Valkyrie halted and the Decepticon’s attention snapped to her. The pastel mech could feel her joints lock up, she nearly fell. She knew that mech, she would know her anywhere. No matter how long it may have been, no matter how different. She loved that mech.

To Valkyrie’s horror, it was Sunrazor who stood proudly before her, stained in her friend's energon and gaze unforgiving. With growing dread, she saw the same mech who had once been her anchor, the same one who had once looked at her with love and wonder, now standing before her as this twisted mockery of the Sunrazor she had once known.

Her finger lingered on the trigger, trembling with a brutal tension, but Valkyrie’s own body betrayed her, frozen in place.

How was Valkyrie expected to shoot her? How could she pull that trigger, knowing it was the same mech who had whispered vows of love to her, who did love her—who she had loved with every fiber of her being. How could she hurt the same mech she had grieved and had begged for just one more day with?

Primus must have been a cruel god, granting her this chance only to twist it, to mutilate and distort everything she had once known. To take someone so gentle and turn them into something monstrous.

Sunrazor lowered her gun ever so slightly, something itching at her expression, intense fiery gaze locked onto Valkyrie’s own but… She almost seemed confused. For the briefest of moments she almost seemed lost, as if she couldn’t make sense of Valkyrie.

Valkyrie hated how something akin to hope twisted within her.

But Sunrazor blinked and the dangerous red was replaced with a blinding white. Her expression twisted into something feral. Pointed teeth bared in an angry snarl. Her engine revved with a thunderous roar, plating flared. The metal of her gun groaned as her grip tightened. There was something unnatural with how she lifted it to take aim.

The pastel mech should move, she needed to move. Her feet remained firmly planted on the ground as she stared up at Sunrazor—Sunrazor who was alive and standing in front of her. Who had promised so, so many years ago that she would protect her, that she would never hurt her—Valkyrie didn’t even try to dodge the blast, it had been Saberfire who shoved her back into motion. Despite the speedsters' haste, blinding pain erupted in Valkyrie’s hip.

~~~~~~~~~

The music, ever present, decrescendoed into a soft lullaby, almost imperceptible now—its subtle change in tone seemed to match the gentle shift in Dropmix’s focus as he worked. He didn’t need to speak; the melody said it all. The silence stretched between them, but it was a comfortable one, the kind where Valkyrie could almost forget where she was for a moment. Almost. She could hear Dropmix moving, his steady hands never faltering.

Dropmix had known Bluerunner, had cared for him, had healed him. Yet he acted as if nothing had happened, like no tragedy had occurred. He acted no differently from the other times Valkyrie had found herself in his care.

"How do you do it?" she asked quietly, "How do you just… carry on?"

The medic looked up at her, face carefully neutral, “What do you mean?”

Valkyrie ignored the twist of frustration and offense that coursed through her at the statement. She let a frown tug at the corners of her mouth, “Bluerunner! He was one of your patients! You knew him, you took care of him and now he’s gone and it's like… it's like…”

The pastel mech trailed off, the once intense betrayal and irritation fading into numbness once again. She looked away from him, staring at a cabinet instead. When she finally spoke again it was barely over a whisper “How are you able to just keep going?”

Dropmix was silent for a few moments, contemplating his reply. The music trailed on in a gentle lulling. Eventually he shook his head. He sighed softly, setting down his tools with deliberate care.

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” His voice was quieter now, his usual warmth tinged with something more solemn. There was hesitance in his voice as he continued, “If I don't keep going, more mechs will get hurt, more would suffer. I can’t let that happen,”

Valkyrie turned her head slightly, unwilling to meet his eyes, though she felt the weight of his words like a blanket across her chest. Dropmix didn’t rush her, allowing the silence to hang between them, the unspoken understanding thick in the air. Any other day she may have attempted to press for more, to figure out what exactly happened. Today was not that day however, Valkyrie was in no position to press.

“The world doesn’t stop when you fall apart,” he finished, his tone more matter-of-fact than anything else.

Part of her wanted to ask him how he could stand the constant cycle of loss, of mending only for things to break again. Valkyrie wanted to demand how he could still care, still tend to the broken, while carrying the weight of so many souls lost. How could he continue knowing he had failed them?

Just like how she had failed Bluerunner. How she had somehow failed Sunrazor—allowed her to become… that thing.

[rainbowmagicmarker]

(An alternate chapter for my solavellan fanfic The Healer Has the Bloodiest Hands. I was having trouble with some dialogue from Misyl's perspective, so I ended up writing this chapter from her side as well to work some stuff out in my head. I didn't want it part of the full fic because I didn't want to change POVs but thought I'd post it here for fun.)

(This was NOT beta'd like the main fic is)

After the chaos she has been through the past few months Misyl is so glad for the peace. There is no one demanding her attention, there are no missives she must read or send, there are no soldiers awaiting orders or petitioners standing in line to request her aid. The title of Inquisitor has been lifted on her shoulders and hung away in a closet to collect dust. She has full faith in those she selected to replace her, to take on the duties that she had previously delegated. The people of Thedas did not need more figureheads, they needed practical boots on the ground now.

The only thing she must care for now is the dozing apostate laying against her breast, his arm over her body and clinging like she is a lifeline in a vast ocean. She smiles softly, stifling a laugh that threatens to wake him. She should not find humour in his panic and fear, she knows this, but the idea that he was unable to recognise simply being tired was far more amusing that it should have been. His life was going to be much different now.

She dozes herself, willing to be rid of exhaustion as a constant companion. At least until his fitful sleep wakes her up. There are words on his lips too quiet for her to hear, but she can feel the tremors in his body. Her heart pangs as she knows that he is facing horrors that she cannot touch. Not yet.

She will touch them, she will. They will have forever.

When he moved his arm in his sleep she was able to getup, quietly so as not to disturb him. She rested his head carefully on the furs and tucked the blankets around him. "I will not go far," She promises him quietly, she promised she would be there when he woke and she would hold that promise if it killed her.

She calls for embrium and poppy from the fabric of the fade, plucking and trying the leaves with her magic before tossing them into the burning fire. The smell of them filled the little clearing and after a little time his sleep was deeper and not so fitful. She lays down at his back and wraps her arms around him, resting her face against his shoulder, and lets the smell carry her back off to her own sleep.

It is the wracking coughs that wake her next, his healing lungs expelling the blood and blight from his body. She gets up again, this time to fetch the bowl from the clear spring and let it warm by the fire for a moment before cleaning his face. His eyes open, though still weighed down by sleep, as she does so.

"How long-"

"Hush vhenan. As long as you need." She sees there is fight in him, but tiredness wins out and he drifts off again beneath her careful touch.

They share these same words several times as he rests. Sometimes she gets up, she calls for a bucket to carry water to the fire and let it warm so she can wash her face. She calls forth a kettle to heat and tea to steep. She does not need the substance, but the actions of making it bring her peace and the warm drink brings her comfort. She is never away from him for more than a minute or two, either laying beside him or holding his head in her lap so he knows she is there when he wakes.

She has a mug in her hand when he wakes, and she can feel it is different this time. He doesn't say anything, doesn't ask any questions. She takes a deep drink of her tea to brace herself, not sure where they will begin. She feels his eyes on her but she must brace herself before she slowly lowers the mug to her knee and balances it carefully with her prosthetic before studying him.

His lavender eyes are bright now, and they make her heart ache as he looks her over. Everything she wants to say is wiped from her mind by the sadness she can see deep inside of him. It has always been there, to some degree or another, and she always thought he would tell her when he was ready. She never could have imagined how deep it would run, or how close to the surface it would feel now. Where did she start?

He spoke first.

"What do you have?" And a smile comes to her face. How many times has that question passed between them? It is an answer that he knows well but he asks it anyway. She sees it for what it is, a tentative olive branch.

"Tea." She traces her fingers down the side of his face, and she does not even try to stifle the laugh as his nose wrinkles in disgust and pulls that little divot of his brow down into his wrinkled brow. His eyelids seem heavy as he enjoys her touch but somehow she knows he will not be going back to sleep, and eventually she pulls back to take another drink of her tea before it grows cold.

She is saddened when he sits up and puts space between them. She wants to reach for him and pull him against her and never let there be space between them again. But that is silly, and she holds herself still. He takes stock of what is around him, of what she has been up to, and she waits for him to be satisfied with what he sees.

"You will not tell me how long I have slept?" There is a silent sigh in her lungs as he asks, though she had known that he would she had somehow hoped he would leave it be.

"I will not," She agrees with his assessment, and his shoulders shift beneath a sigh of his own.

"Vhenan you do not need to-" Her soul recoils from the words and it takes all of her will not to snarl at him, the school her anger behind a distant expression so she does not lash out at him.

"You will not tell me what I need-" He begged her not to call him Fen'harel, she cannot see those words break him again, "Dread wolf." She settles on. She sees the way that it stings him, but at least it does not break him this time.

"I'm sorry," It is all she can do not to scream at those words from his lips. How many times has she heard them? How many?

This is not going to go well, she does now know how long she can school her temper like this and he does not deserve the full depth of her rage. Not all of it is his fault, and even the parts of it that are will not help him heal now. Will not help them heal. She will have to lay boundaries now, before she hurts him even more, before she says something that she will regret.

"I did not want to have this conversation until you were restored," She starts slowly, and gestures for him to hush when he opens his mouth to question her. She does not think she can keep her cool if he insists on interrupting her. "I am furious with you, everything you have done since you left me here in Crestwood has only made me angrier." She admits forcing her tone to split the honesty from the venom that she would have used against anyone else. "I am just as surprised as anyone else that I sit here as myself and not as a creature or Rage." It was meant as a joke, but she can hear in her tone and see in his eyes that it does not land. "I won't accept your apology," She moves on quickly.

He struggles between speech and silence, chokes on his words. It hurts so much to watch him struggle so. No matter how angry she is she could never wish harm upon him, she could never wish to frighten him so. She reaches out and takes his hand in hers, trying to sooth him. Begging him to look at her, to see she has no intention to strike again or to raise her voice against him. A silent plea to let her finish speaking.

"I love you," She says when he finally looks at her, "I have never stopped loving you, not even for a second. But vhenan you must understand you have apologised so much it has lost all meaning, you apologise while continuing to take the same actions you are apologising for. I won't accept any more of your apologies." She sees his eyes widen and his thoughts whirl, and she presses on before he can catastrophize what she says. "If you want to atone for what you have done, to me and to this world, the only way you can do so is with your actions." Her breath is shaky and she can feel the burn of tears are the corner of her eyes.

Please, vhenan, understand. Please, she does not want to hurt you. She wants to help you. The bandages you've wrapped around your heart to hide the wounds are gnarled and scabbed and must be ripped away to allow for healing. The wounds must be exposed to burn the infection out.

Please understand.

She watches the struggle in his eyes but she can think of nothing more to say to soothe it. She feels the faint tremor in his hand and she grips it tighter, cursing her prosthetic that she cannot offer him further comfort.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks finally, and relief slouches her shoulders. She does not know if he truly understands but he is willing to try and that is all that she can ask for.

"Stop apologising for what you have done and let us together figure out what you will do from here on out. Let your actions speak your apologies. Never tell me again what it is that I need or what I should do. Trust me that I can make those determinations for myself," There is trembling in her hand now that she cannot hold still, she is so afraid of driving him away. She does not want her words to be so harsh that he hides himself away from her again, that she will only see the mask when all she wants is to see the man beneath. Her love.

His other hand covers hers, and they tremble together. He nods, swallowing words she knows he is compelled to speak. But he doesn't speak, he listens.

"I know what I ask of you is not easy. I did not follow you to be your jailor, I am not here to be a harsh mistress." Unbidden, the image of Mythal's sharp features flickers through her mind and she can almost feel the imposing presence of the woman. She has sworn that she will never be that to him. She will leave him before she uses him the way that he had been used before. "Please know that while it may hurt I do not want to hurt you ma vhenan. We will walk this hurt together. No matter how hard the path may become, I will never forsake you on it."

His mouth forms the shapes of ir abelas but he does not put it to voice. She will forgive that, he is trying. Her piece said she waits, patiently, for him to get his thoughts together. These are things that he must work through at his own pace, and she will wait for him as long as it takes.

"Thank you," He finally says with a shaky breath, "Thank you," He repeats like a prayer.

Tears swell past the edges of her eyes and down her face. It is all she has wanted to hear for so long, she feels his hand against her cheek before she sees it through clouded vision, brushing the tears from her cheeks. When she blinks her vision clear his expression mirrors hers, tears curling down his chin. She lets go of his hand to rest her fingers on his waist and pull him towards her, collapsing back on the blankets.

They curl there together, wrapped in each other, and cry.

It is like that for awhile. Time passes them in their false Crestwood and she watches him recover. He tries to apologise every time she tends his wounds, ever time she heals his ribs a little more. Sometimes he does apologise, and she corrects him gently. Sometimes he mourns the life he took from her, he wraps himself in his regret like a blanket and he looks at her with those same lavender eyes that turned away from her at the Landsmeet. The eyes of Fen'harel. It is an effort not to call him by that name in those moments, she has to school herself, but she knows she cannot hurt him in that way again. Fortunately 'Dread Wolf' has been enough to call him back. She worries for a day that might not be enough.

But he gets stronger, and his magic returns to him slowly. She can tell it bothers him deeply when he cannot call the smallest veilfire to his hands, but he tries to hide it from her and he does not complain. She wishes that they could stay here like this for longer, maybe forever. But there is a world relying on them to do what was promised. Without masters now the Blight could become ever more dangerous, and while she does not know how they can solve it she has vowed that she will try, with him. One morning, if you can call it a morning in the Fade, she wakes to find him standing on the edge of their little haven. He is staring out over the Fade with that troubled, pensive look he once had while looking out over the Frostback Mountains from her balcony.

It is time, then.

She stands and joins him, resting her hand on his shoulder so as not to startle him when she speaks. "Where are we going?" She suspects that she knows, that there is a place in the Fade that only he can go and that will be their destination. Wordlessly he raises a hand and confirms her thoughts, the curve of his finger directing her to the Eternal City in the distance.

"The Eternal City," She breaths, she cannot entirely suppress the shudder it brings. The stories of the Void, of the Gods being banished there, of Fen'harel's prowling form guarding it from ever being breached. She grew up with that nightmare looming in her dreams. But here she held Fen'harel in her heart, and compared to that what horror could the Eternal City hold with the wolf himself at her side?

"We can get there?" She asks as she squares herself to the idea.

"It will not be easy, but yes. I can get us there." She suspected he was the only one who could, now that there were no Evanuris inside to coax anyone to them. She did not question that it would be easy, she was prepared that nothing about her life with him would be easy. Nothing but loving him. That came to her like breathing.

With that it was decided, it was time for them to leave. They had no belongings to pack, nothing to clean. Everything here was of the Fade and would return to it as soon as they were no longer here sustaining it. But there was one last burden that needed to be left behind. She could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her, there was that fraction of a second where his attention was not on her but on the marks on her face. The oath that she would find him and she would bring him home.

Her oath was fulfilled, his home was at her side. They were here together, and they prepared now to take their future together.

"Come with me." She takes his hand and pulls him back to the glade, she sits by the water. It's the same rock, the same place he removed her Vallaslin the first time. Repetition of memory has carved that moment into her mind like marble, she does not think that she will ever be rid of it.

"I have thought about this day, this place, so often. I think that is why it was so easy to conjure it to me here." Nothing was as clear in her mind as the details of this place. She had revisited it several times, both in her dreams and in the real world, hoping to find some fragment that she had missed. Something to tell her why he had done this, why he had never told her the truth. Whether or not he truly loved her. Looking into his eyes and seeing such unfathomable sadness and, beneath it all, fear. "You removed the marks of Mythal from my face. It saddened you you so much deeper than just a twisted Dalish tradition should have. I drank from the Well of Sorrows, I wore her marks. I understand now. You did not want me to server as you had." He had been so angry about the Well, but it wasn't an anger born of being wronged but an anger born of being afraid.

Solas doesn't look at her, he looks out over the water. The words were churning in his eyes the way that the do when he is trying not to apologise. "Yes. Some fragment of her was still out there that might use you. I didn't have the strength to undo what had bound you. All I could do was tell you to be cautious. To give you the truth of her. I could take her marks from your face and set you free in that small way." He looks back to her finally, but he does not try to hide the way his eyes rove over the new vallaslin she has chosen to mark her.

"A noble marks his slaves to honor the god he worshipped," She repeats the words he said to her so long ago. "Why not tell me then, what the gods truly were? That they marked their worshippers as property?" He had given such a small fragment of the truth, she had found so much more over the intervening years. Why had he given her such a tiny fragment, if he gave her anything at all?

"If I said more, I could not have stopped." He admits with shame, and she remembers the broken way he promised never to distract her from her duty again. "You pursue the truth like a dog with a bone, you would never have been satisfied with any small bit I could tell you without revealing myself." She thinks about the unsent letter Rook had given her, tucked away in her clothes. She is not ready to go there, not yet. She does not think that he is either. He raises his hand to her and traces the lines across her forehead, his thumb brushes against the marks on her chin. She swallows the words she could say and only nods.

"Then today we start over," She declares, "You tell me the truth Solas, whatever it may be, and I shall walk the dinan'shiral with you forever." This was her oath, what the vallaslin represented to her, "Promise me that?" Please vhenan, promise her that. Promise that you will be with her, that is all she wants. She will follow you to the end of the world and into the void itself if you only agree to let her walk with you.

He hesitates and at first her stomach falls, her blood freezes. It takes a second to realise that he is afraid not because he does not want to do this thing for her, but because he is afraid that he can't. It is the same way that he re-committed himself to the Veil every time he wanted to stop because she begged him to. He only understands black and white, he does not understand the grey that she is asking him for. "There will be forgiveness, vhenan." She promises quietly, "I do not expect perfection from you, I ask that you try." Just try. Just do your best to tell her the truth, correct yourself when you find yourself lying. Give her something to work with that she can plant the seed to trusting him again.

"Ir dir'vhen'an," He says finally, his voice waivers with fear but also with the same fierce commitment with which he set himself to anything, "For you, anything." Relief floods through her body and lightens her spirit. She can have this, they can have this. This is the moment that they can start to move forward.

"Then we will stand equal," She declares, "I want you to remove the vallaslin." She had put it there knowing only he knew how to remove it, and if it was ever to be removed then it would have to be by his hand. He was the one that had to release her from this oath. There had never been any doubt that she would not wear these marks forever, but there had been fear that it would be harder to fulfill her promise than she had hoped.

He is almost eager in the way he calls the magic to his fingers, the way he traces his fingers over her face and pulls the lines free. Her skin is hot and cold at the same time, it tingles like the rawness of a healing sunburn. It hurts, but it is brief. She exhales slowly and raises her fingers to trace the raw skin.

"Ar lasa mala revas." He whispers the words and she is overwhelmed by the need for his lips on hers. She closes the space between them with desperation, she has always wanted so much of him and yet he had never been willing to give it. They had danced around the subject so long. He tangles his fingers in her hair and holds her against him, and panic flares in her stomach. It is her time now to pull away even as his touch begs her not to. Not yet, they are not there yet. There is so much more that must be open between them before she can find it in her to be open to him that way.

She stands with more confidence than she feels, and takes his hand before he can question her hesitance. She leads him back to where they stood before, on the outside of their little haven where she has nursed him back to health. He freed her. It was time she did the same.

"Solas, what you did here hurt me. I will not lie to you." He had never wanted to hurt her, but want did not make it false. He had and she had lived with that hurt for ten years. He squeezes her hand but she is proud of him that he does not say anything, that he does not try to apologise. "And what you did here healed me. For this, ma fen vhenan, I forgive you." She reaches out to the Fade, to the fire burning at the center, and stokes it. She pulls it up and out and feeds it on the terrible memories locked in this place. She releases the ashes of it back out to the fade.

"Ar lasa mala revas." She echoes his words, watching the memories dissipate in a very literal sense. A weight lifted from their hearts.

She is surprised when he grabs her and kisses her fiercely, and she cannot help but lean into his touch despite the indecision weighing heavy in her.

[thecurlyginger]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@12thhouse-sun tagged me days ago - I'm alive queen and answering this for you!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

30 which I literally cannot believe but OKAY

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

317,219... wow.

3) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Plus-One, a Parks & Rec one-shot where Leslie coerces Ben to be her date to Mark's wedding and feelings becoming revealed.

NFWMB, a Marvelous Mrs. Maisel fic from Lenny's perspective about the allure of a certain female comic.

Sweet Vermouth, another MMM fic - this time from Midge's POV, following the season 3 finale and her fall from grace after being fired from Shy's tour.

Where the Heart Is, a Parks & Rec fic that tells the story of Leslie's house throughout the seasons.

Your Protector, my Baldur's Gate 3 fic from Gale's POV that tells the story of him falling in love over the events of the game with a certain vengeful paladin.

4) What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Baldur's Gate. Been mentally cooking up a DA: Veilgard fic or two (or three) but haven't had the time to get to writing.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

ALWAYS. I love love love comments, and if someone is kind enough to write about my story, then the least I can do is answer. In my mind, it also encourages people to comment!

6) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely my WIP What Then, If the Storm Ends. Getting some words in the comments that I'm due to pay for therapy...

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly all of my Parks & Rec fics have happy endings because that's the tone of the show!

8) Do you get hate on fics?

Someone hated on how I personified Louie CK's character (that he was a dick) on Parks & Rec in one of my fics and all I could think of after the truth about that guy came out was... well, guess I was right. I get it, character vs actor, but since that show was so heavily improv'd, I felt vindicated.

9) Do you write smut?

...mayhaps. (yes I do)

10) Do you write crossovers?

No, sorry I haven't!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not stolen, but I had an idea for a story and due to not having time to write it, someone beat me to the punch!!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't, but that would be super cool! I had someone tell me they had to google a lot of things to understand my modern day BG3 fic because I talked about unions (lol).

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No but I would be DOWN TO

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Might say Ben/Leslie!

15) What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not applicable! My beige flag is only posting multi-chapter fics when they're finished. You'll get the full story but it's gonna take a LONG TIME, hence the year between Your Protector and its sequel.

16) What are your writing strengths?

I like to think it's overall storytelling? Finding conflict, laying the groundwork for there to be emotional payoff, etc. Also, finding the character's voices. People like my Gale voice, and I was told I nailed the voices from Parks & Rec and MMM.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I could be more descriptive? I tend to imagine my story cinematically (makes sense with my line of work, I suppose), so I'm often writing as though bouncing between the character's "coverage" but I need to spend more time on creating settings.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I enjoy reading it, but I would hate to mess it up.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Ever??? Phantom of the Opera

20) Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I've said it before, I'll say it again. I LOVE Your Protector and it's sequel. I spent so much time writing them and just think of them as my children. Labors of love that I'm proud of and I want more people to read them!

Tagging @optimisticgrey @morrriigan

[traegorn]

Going from Script to Page

(originally posted to my personal blog)

So the big difference between Peregrine Lake and my earlier comics is, obviously, that I'm not the one drawing it. When I was doing my earlier comics, I never wrote down what I was planning, I just had it in my head and would translate it directly to the page. At most I'd write one sentence lines about strips so I could plot out pacing. I did a few thumbnails early on to figure out page layouts, but more often than not the pages didn't exist in any form until I wrote them. That obviously isn't a way we can work for this comic. I can't sit there over Ethan's ( @wistfolie ) shoulder while they draw, since that would be weird and we don't live in the same city. So I do what comic writers have been doing for quite some time. I write scripts. That's where every page for Peregrine Lake starts. Then, if Ethan needs any clarification on a description or has an alternate suggestion for a setting or scene, we talk about it. But again, we start by my writing a script. So I thought it might be fun to take a look at a recent installment and compare the final art to the initial script I wrote. Our example is the October 22nd page titled "Greg." It is, unsurprisingly, the first page where we see the final of our four main characters. I love this page, but let's see the initial script:

Panel 1 Greg emerges from the curtained doorway. Tall panel. If this were television or film, we'd smear some Vaseline on the lens for the best gooey soft focus shot we could get. God damn, we want everyone seeing this to want a piece of Greg. Like take a second slice home in a take out box and eat it while watching Netflix. Let's make this far more detailed than any other panel. Let's get people to demand we print this man on body pillows. Panel 2 Close up of Bev's face. She wants to just lay Greg down and cover him in butter. Bev: (tiny ass words, whispering to self) Yeah... not talking good. Panel 3 Greg leans on the counter towards Lynn, Bev is... "reacting" quietly, but no one's paying her any attention Greg: Hey Lynn, Bob hasn't gotten me those antique iron nails yet. I said I'd call when they come in. Lynn: Thanks, but not what I'm here for. I may have an... off the books job for you Greg: How off the books Panel 4 Close up of Lynn. Lynn is very serious. Lynn: Off the books off the books. Greg, this is my new friend Bev. Panel 5 Back to a shot of the three of them, Greg turns to Bev smiling Greg: Hi! Nice to meet you. Bev: (tiny words) Hello tall man

Yep. That is... that is pretty close to what we got. We moved some of the dialogue around to fit better with the art (moving some of Greg's stuff to panel one from panel three), but overall we stick pretty true to it. Ethan read my ridiculous descriptions and understood the assignment. And yeah, I think it's safe to assume at least some of our audience wants a piece of Greg now.

[blackstar5078]

ECSMP Lore BTS:

Wither's character before and during the V33 Arc. (Part 1)

Usually in other fandoms, I'm the person who makes the very long analysis posts about characters. I was at my peak with the MCRP cubitos analysis last year.

Now, there's not many people who can catch the kind of subtle, for attentive people, lore that I do (inspired by certain other streamers who also manage lore this way, since I found that kind of lore the most fun I had with theorizing and following). With clues layed out, not in the form of ciphers or enigmas, but character actions, character reactions/choices, character dialogue, the way the character physically looks, even songs attached to the character.

I also work with flower language, as I'm obsessed with it.

Note: If I mention something and it looks irrelevant. It's not, it will make sense later, even during lore that has not happened yet.

With my methods now clear, let's dive in.

First of all, we have the skins, people may need the side by side comparisons, so here you go:

This series of skins had the purpose to showcase Wither's slow mental decline. By the third one, the pupils are slightly more blueish, which it is an important indicator of not only mental decline, but of her powers starting to take over.

I will divide the happenstances and details with these very same skins.

Arrival / Regular Skin

The skin she had up until Day 29.

The first ever lore drop Wither did was to Bluebell all the way back in Day 2.

It wasn't the only small little detail about her past she shared that day even.

There were also very veeery small details, like Wither immediately asking if the new people who showed up were friendly, or that she wasn't that concerned at first about the C.A.T Bluebell spotted, since she already had the impresion that cats were friendly.

Day 3, the day when Rox arrived, was the first time Wither mentioned her trauma with endermen, but it wasn't much explained as trauma at first. It was also hinted that there were certain kind of endermen she never saw before.

This was also the day when Bluebell got the name reveal of the person who Wither mentioned before, and not only that, she got to read a letter that Wither would send to him after that very same conversation.

That bit of not knowing about their past? Keep this in mind for later.

With this letter, Bluebell also learned about Soul and Fire's names and that they have conscience of their own, but they have more trust issues than Wither herself and how she thinks it's nice to find the right people to trust. Another detail to consider.

No more lore drops happened during Day 4, but in Day 5, exploring the Nether was mentioned and Wither said that she would not be able to go with Bluebell in that case.

Day 6 was when the Soul Lantern was brought to the house.

During that conversation, Wither revealed to Bluebell that soulfire was the bright blue thing on her armor.

She also had a thought about the lantern before they went to sleep, though.

The very next day, Wither had a dream related to soulfire, and woke up extremely startled.

Her hands were getting covered slowly by soulfire in the dream. But she did not mention any of that to Bluebell upon waking up, and Bluebell also didn't ask.

This day was also when they heard the Ancient City's disk for the first time. Wither heard a lot of roars, screams, fire, fighting on it, and it caused her to immediately run away to try to get air. It was a panic attack.

This was also the first time we saw her habit of clawing on the floor/ground when distressed.

Day 9 was the accident when Bluebell fell into lava in the Nether.

Wither clawed the floor while Bluebell was writing on her journal, showing her distress.

That day, Bluebell went to sleep before Wither. She said she would be awake for a little bit.

And it was Day 10, Wither wasn't back home.

Day 10 was when Rox and Bluebell found the decimated village, and turned out, Wither was the one responsible.

Over the village they found soulsand, soulfire, wither roses, explosion craters, corpses and blood, along with the burnt down houses.

Once Rox and Bluebell found her, Rox did leave them be, so only Bluebell got the information that Wither didn't mean to do this and no matter how much she cares, she can't prevent this from happening.

Later, Bluebell asked how she felt, Wither said that the injuries hurt and that she should be able to heal eventually.

And to be continued in part 2, this will have lots of reblogs lmao.

[notoriousbeb]

TTPD Thoughts - The Manuscript (Pt. 1)

TTPD Notes Glossary

"Fortnight"  

Definitely written in the spring of 2023. I think the video was shot in the fall.  

The concept of treason/being a traitor comes up in reference to Harry in 1989 as well (“you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor”)  

In the music video, the typewriter Taylor is using is missing the 1 key (like the song “The 1”?) and she leaves several blank spaces in her writing of “I love you, it’s ruining my life” (perhaps a nod to the “Blank Space” song?)  

When Taylor and Post Malone are laying in the Taylor head silhouette it's a callback to the "Style" music video from the original 1989 era, where the Harry stand in guy is standing on a beach in a silhouette of Taylor's head.  

You know who is tattooed and kinda hot and thus a good Harry stand in a MV? Posty.  

I think she's envisioning a kind of nightmare future of being trapped in the metaphorical neighborhood that is their small industry and having to watch him move on while she continues to love him (ugh. thanks, it's beautiful and sounds awesome and i hate it).  

The last new album, "Midnights,” ends with "Hits Different,” on the line, "Is that your key in the door, down the hallway? Is that your key in the door, is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away?" First line of Fortnight, the first song on TTPD? "I was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me.”  

A slight diversion into "Hits Different" and why I've always believed it's about Harry:  She's clubbing, so that narrows down the choices right away to either Harry or Calvin, but based on how she went right from Calvin to Tom to Joe and was definitely not heartbroken enough to be puking, but rather immediately enamored with someone else....We learn that, technically, she broke up with him ("curse the space that I needed") but she's devastated. Like "I broke my own heart, cuz you were too polite to do it?" This really seals it as 1989 Harry to me.  

“The Tortured Poets Department”  

Definitely written in the spring of 2023  

“Who else decodes you?” reminds me of how Harry called their back-and-forth song writing to/about each other (cue the “Fortnight” typewriter smoke battle) “the most amazing unspoken dialogue ever.”  

A “tattooed golden retriever?” I mean… come the fuck on. That’s a Harry descriptor if I’ve ever seen one.  

“You’re in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road, but I’ve seen this episode and I still love the show.” “You awaken with dread pounding nails in your head. But I’ve read this one where you come undone." These aren’t the words of someone who merely wondered about what it would be like to be with a friend or acquaintance. These are two people who deeply know each other and have been together before.  

Also, Harry has documented anxiety that she’s also sung about it previously (“did you get anxious though, on the drive home?” - Now That We Don’t Talk)  

I hate and love the fact that they both told people they would kill themselves if it didn’t work out. I hate it, because that’s a terrible, dumb plan. But I love the passion. Also, who is Lucy? Was he taking to Lucy from Boygenius? That Lucy openly dislikes Matty on main, so I think it’s weird people are using her as a proof point that this song is about him. Did Taylor change that particular name here because it would have been a dead giveaway for this song being about Harry?  (Someone like, Ed, perhaps?)

“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys  

Probably written in spring 2023  

She refers to the muse as the “sickest (I believe this is a double meaning as in cool and also having mental illness issues) army doll purchased at the mall.”  

You ever seen a G.I. Joe under the fatigues? They don’t look like a pasty ex heroin addict. They do look like a certain former boy-bander from Manchester, though. Just saying.  

“Oh, here we go again,” “put me back on my shelf,” “we could’ve played for keeps this time,” “I knew too much/there was danger in the heat of my touch,” “he saw forever so he smashed it up.” Again, these are things you say about someone you’ve been with before, on and off, not someone you saw in concert twice and worked with once. You, especially, don’t see forever with someone after only 20 days.  

“But you should’ve seen him when he first got me.” We did see Matty. Was there someone else in the background who, perhaps, we did not see? Perhaps a certain curly haired former Boy Bander?

“‘Cause it fit too right/Puzzles pieces in the dead of night.” Hmm. Doesn’t sound like the mediocre sex described in “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived” to me

Want to know what lines had me crying in the club on my sad girl walk? “Just say when—I’d play again. He was my best friend down at the sand lot.” Again, these are two people who know each other very well, and have for a long time.  

[omgkalyppso]

@sevarix-blogs tagged me for sharing some of a WIP ... and I'd said I'd share for someone else leaving an open tag for the Last Line of a WIP a few days ago and forgot. My WIPs are all a mess. Some are just dialogue, some are cut up scenes that still need to be reorganized. Still, I'll share from three WIPs here for fun.

I'll tag @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @lemonbronze, @bladesandstars and YOU.

Still working on the Astarion ate a bear conversation WIP:

Astarion had been hunting for some time, and he returned with the most graceless approach, tripping over a cauldron at Lae’zel’s tent with his arms stretched wide as if he’d been meaning to keep track of his steps. “Stay out of my things, darkling!” Lae’zel shouted, interrupting her conversation where Astarion might have otherwise been ignored. “With pleasure, gith,” Astarion said, laying one hand on his unbeating heart and stretching the other out overhead. “Alright, Astarion?” asked Shadowheart, eyebrows raised. “All the better,” Astarion’s words danced with the cadence of an elf who was far further into his cups than either Étoile or Shadowheart, “that you’re concerned for me, my sweet.” Shadowheart made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she objected. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m only worried that you’d return from your hunt with some contagion. These caves are riddled with stagnation and rot.” “Just like home,” Astarion exaggerated, arms spread wide again, hands flicked skyward. He quickly followed it up with a laugh that had the teensiest hiccough in it, lending to his inebriated air.

I started working on a WIP of Wyll writing poetry with Gale's encouragement for the prompt Modern AU for wyllweek but I psyched myself out so it is also still a WIP. Background Gale x my dragonborn Upton:

Wyll: [stating the obvious as Gale has a pen and notepad] Working on something? Gale: Mm. Well, just another gift for the dragon of my heart, as it were. There's few enough rhymes for bronze that I definitely need to pick up a pen when inspiration strikes. Wyll: How do you decide which gifts are worth giving? Gale: Now there's a telling anxiety if I ever heard one. If there's a possibility your audience is going to be disrespectful of the efforts you make, and your heart on your sleeve, Wyll Ravengard, then they don't deserve you. That said, poetry is as much about the audience and the medium as it is about the quality. I know that whatever I scribble down … Upton appreciates that I was thinking of them. The rest is imagined, I suppose I could talk to them about it — how I consider each syllable, and each revolving turn of phrase, with the hope that I can bring them new joy, that the maze around my heart, no more navigable by my manner of elocution, might be more manageable to them. They are celebrations of our bond, their love, their beauty, but they are also pleas of affection, calls to understanding, expressions of vulnerability. And those are harder to share when you put more of yourself in your writing, or when you can't trust those emotions to be well received — even when they are, the way people can misread intent or metaphor, or latch onto some throwaway sentiment you thought to include — it's hard, to write and to share, not even considering the technicalities and imagination of the hobby. Do you keep a journal? Wyll: No. I read and I can recite some poetry, but … I didn't— I didn't keep a journal while I was backpacking, though maybe I should have. I— I'm not thinking of writing for love, or to share with anyone. Maybe someday, but … The world has such vibrancy in it. I'm not a bard, but I'd think I prefer it through a poet's lens sometimes. Gale: As one should. There's a dreamer in all of us, and poetry has connected people to history, to culture, to themselves and to each other — since time immemorial. You needn't worry about sharing it with anyone, but those connections are always open to you. And it may be a tad hypocritical, having never shared my own work, but I'd love to read your poetry, if you're in need of an audience. Wyll: No, no, no. You don't get out of showing me yours by asking for mine. Not when you have the advantage of experience— Gale: Oooo. That may be the politest way I've been called old, but it still stings [holding his heart] right here. Upton: [sitting on the arm of Gale's chair] Wyll called you old? Gale: [standing so Upton can take up most of the chair's real estate] He said I had the benefit— Wyll: Advantage. Gale: [sitting in Upton's lap] The advantage of experience. Wyll: [in his own defense] In regards to poetry. Upton: [delighted, leaning around Gale so he almost falls over] Are you going to write inexperienced poetry, Wyll?

And I'll share a very little bit of my The Pale Elf vs Cazador fight rewrite WIP:

Astarion: You don't love anything. Cazador: Do you not know the meaning of the word sacrifice? One eats an apple and thinks nothing of it, a fruit made to be consumed. But what of eating a friend, a lover, a son. You were made to be sacrificed, but my love was no less true for my role in your extermination. Astarion: Fuck you. And fuck everything you ever did to me. Cazador: You are my spawn, you are my family, and you came home like a good little apple when it was time for harvest.

While it might just be bad and cheesy I like the idea of Cazador likening Astarion to being worth more to him than nothing only to immediately refute that in the next sentence from his mouth. He should have been a man of twisted love and contradictions imo, not blindly evil.

[zaftikat]

20 Questions

This is the most 2010s tumblr thing I can recall doing on this site, and I have participated in the supernatural fandom. (Tagged by @toopunkrockforshul )

ALL OF THIS UNDER A CUT

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Five, but like you know, I'm workin on it.

2. How many words?

16,320. 11.4k comes from one fic tho

Nine Worlds Series by Victoria Goddard (specifically: Greenwing & Dart and Lays of the Hearthfire)

Star Wars by way of @dangersquaremedia's Chicks with Dice

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

well, i've only got the 5 so...

1. It's just Intermundial Tax Law, how hard could it be?

2. On Escaping from Orio Prison

3. The Tanà's Daughter, or How Pinyë Got Her Groove Back (Hiatus)

4. If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward (Ongoing)

5. The Poola Blossom

No because I'm afraid it might come across as weird? I don't read a lot of fic, so I'm not sure what the etiquette is?

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Implying I finish my fics instead of losing steam and forgetting them.

That said, when its finished, How Pinye Got Her Groove Back is going to be pretty fuckin angsty

Again, implying that I finish my fics.

The one I've gotten the most "this made me so sad" comments on is actually my happiest in my opinion. I wrote Intermundial Tax Law right as I was gearing up to move countries, and the story ends with the main character feeling confident and determined in his choice to leave home. That's the happiest ending I could have imagined at the time, because emigrating somewhere new is not a simple prospect, emotionally.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I write for very small fandoms full of predominantly very nice and supportive people. I would not change that.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I, a transfem on progesterone, have written smut, yes. The armpit licking kind. What other kinds are there?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I love a good AU, but I'm not super into crossovers. Just not my bag.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I apologize to the thief for the sort of mauve hue to my prose.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but damn if I wouldn't love to have a yiddish fic

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have ideas for a cowritten fic with @toopunkrockforshul ! its a wrestling AU

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

oh, maybe HMS Agamemnon. She was a 64 gun third rate who participated in the battle of Egypt and then shortly thereafter the Nore Mutiny. Laid up in 1802 in poor condition, and then brought out of ordinary in 1804 because napoleon was going to invade and they needed all the ships they could get. She took and demasted the Spanish 112 gun Santisima Trinidad at Trafalgar which is pretty cool.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

How Pinye Got Her Groove Back probably won't ever get finished because I've lost the mindset. Its a fic about dysphoria and coming out and as I get farther away from the direct experience its harder to set in my mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk. it feels odd to talk about my strengths when I'm so very green at this. I think I'm pretty alright at knowing when to kill a darling.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to get lost in the middle between where I know I'm going and where I currently am. It slows me down a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Like, maybe I could do Jack Aubrey quality french.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Greenwing & Dart

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward its just the most complex and well written thing I think i've ever done, and I can't wait for something else to replace it as my favourite.

I don't know enough people who write fic to tag them, so have fun if you want

[indigosunsetao3]

Coming out of Anon because I want to appreciate your work and your talent as a nameless figure 😁

Honestly I am not into Gaz or the other 141 besides Soap 😅 and I read Keeping Lines Blurry because Soap was a best/good friend and I was already on a high from your writing after reading Would It Be Enough?

I have to say THANK GOD I started reaching KLB because now I am hooked! Your writing is amazing! The world building, dialogues and slow burn *chef’s kiss*

I am not connecting to Olivia as I did with Emma but I am all up for her redemption. She better not hurt Kyle because that man has been through enough already. I am curious about Abby though, I was rooting for her 😅

Anyway, excited to see what all you plan for these two and everyone involved. You are a legend!!! Hope you have an amazing day!!! ❤️

P.S: I have a grin everything Soap shows up, he is just so… ugh! 🤭😍

Hello! Nice to meet you!

Soap was my first story because he's definitely my favorite of the group. Like, I love the rest in their own way but Soap will always be my number one. He lives in my head rent free 😂 I honestly think that's why in all my stories he shows/will show up as the best friend because despite the fact he's not the main character he's going to make his presence known.

I'm glad you gave KLB a read! It's been fun to do a little bit darker than Would It Be Enough? And having to lay down more intricate plotlines/hints throughout it.

I personally connect way more with Emma myself because Olivia, girl, you need to really assess your life choices. Giving up Gaz for that? Get out of here, haha. But really, Emma is a much more sympathetic character compared to Olivia. Thoughts about her may change throughout the next few chapters...And we'll hear from Abby again, don't worry 😉

I really appreciate your kind words and feedback! Honestly this has made my day and it's only 7 in the morning haha. Things like this really keep me motivated to continue writing.

P.S. I will revisit Soap and Emma someday. I can't put them on the shelf forever, I love them too much.

[facks-stories]

Uh so I have a “story” where its just scenes and dialogue, while I was having my daily bonding time with my sister 11 at night, i talked about ai to her, and how when talking to my friends i jokily used ai to “write” a new chapter of my story [it made mimu a wizard 🥲] it was completely off plot because I could only ask it to “write” the next chapter of the latest chapter [due to word limit]

Anyway I told her that because it’s been two weeks since I wrote or even wanted to [hopefully I can post a new one soon] then I got the idea to do it again but with a different bot and we read it, this was the only version [only good and full one but the fail is there too] I could save

[I told my sister the real names and the whole plot prior to this so most of the reading was spent laughing about how wrong it was]

The point is that I’m going to post it here because it was entertaining 

What I wrote

What chat ai wrote

What ai chat wrote

(1) was walking with a book in his hand, finally getting to his house, the curtains were closed but they were a little see-through. He stopped on the sidewalk and looked if anyone was around, thankfully for him there wasn't, walking up to the window, just close enough to see somewhat silhouettes, he saw two people who seemed to be holding eachother, on the couch. He could see briefly what they looked like. With one man (2) looking like (1) did when he met him and the other man (3) looking like him before he did research. Suddenly the tv's noise stopped and one of the figures got up and started walking to the door.

(1) got back onto the sidewalk, he didn't realize that if he could see their silhouette they could see his too, he couldn't just run, that would look weird, and it was a open front yard so no place to hide. The man walked out and into about half of the yard, he was shorter then (1) but was still tall.

(2) - did you see anyone here?

(1) - uhm, sorry no I was reading

(1) wasn't panicking, but he felt his heart rate go up, and he felt happy. For the first time in years, shit he was only about 20 years old, if not more. But seeing him as when they first met made him jealous. His tail (if he hadn't cut it off) would probably give him away. Cutting his train of thought off the man said something about (1)'s hair

(2) - hey, are you ok? You look sick, and your hair is dark (color)

(1) - I- uhm..

(2) - my husband is a doctor, so I may not know whats going on but he could

(1) knew for sure (3) would know him. This world was in the book he was holding. He had to leave without bothering anything too much. But it was so nice to have (2) care for him. He felt terrible. He could have had this if he didn't test it onto himself. A (species 1) dna wasn't meant to be mixed with the kind nature of (species 2) he knew he couldn't blame his own experiments,his violent tendencies had to be just more then dna. And he doubted (4) or (3) were violent.

He needed help he was getting so nervous and he couldn't tell if it was because he thought (2) would find him out or if he just wanted (2) to himself. He knew it was just the world trying to fix things but it was making it painful to leave.

(1) - ah, no I'm ok,

(2) - alright,

All of a sudden (1) got such a urge to touch his face. without thinking for too long he started walking towards the man

(2) - excuse me

The man turned back around, quickly (1) made the excuse of 'theres something on your face' to wipe off nothing, trying to not stare he shook his hand after as a excuse to not tell him 'what was on his face'

The man said thanks and walked back inside while (1) felt great. He felt loved despite never loving anything before. When (2) walked back in he sat on the couch again, laying on his husband shoulder. With is husband patting the spot where (1) did.

(2) - why do you do that sometimes?

(3) - I just like touching your face,

(2) - It makes me feel closer to you. Plus, I think your face is incredibly soft and comforting to touch. It brings me a sense of peace and security. Does it bother you?

(3) - Not at all. In fact, I find it quite endearing. It's a simple way for me to show my affection and admiration for you. Your presence brings me so much joy and being close to you like this just feels right. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?

[I didn’t like this one because who tells someone they find them touching their face to be “endearing”-?]

(1) couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched (2) and (3) interacting with such ease and affection. It reminded him of what he had lost, what he had sacrificed in his pursuit of knowledge and power. He couldn't undo the mistakes he had made, but maybe he could still find a way to make amends.

With a heavy heart, (1) retreated from the window and headed toward the nearby park. There, under the shade of a large oak tree, he began to reflect on his actions and the consequences they had brought upon him. He had to find a way to undo the damage and bring happiness back into his life.

As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, a stray cat wandered up to him and curled up next to his feet. Looking into the cat's eyes, he felt a strange connection, as if the cat understood his pain. It was a small glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

Inspired by the cat's presence, (1) decided to embark on a journey to find the answers he sought. He would search for a solution that would allow him to reconcile the two worlds he had intertwined and restore balance to his own existence.

Days turned into weeks as (1) traveled far and wide, seeking out wise sages, ancient texts, and forgotten knowledge. Along the way, he honed his skills and learned new ways to tap into the power within himself.

Finally, after much toil and countless encounters, (1) stumbled upon an old, weathered book hidden deep within an abandoned temple. As he pored over its pages, he discovered a ritual—a long-lost ritual that had the potential to undo the fusion of the two worlds.

Fueled by a newfound sense of purpose, (1) returned to the place that had once been his home. With determination burning in his eyes, he prepared for the ritual, gathering the necessary ingredients and casting the spell in the very room where the fusion had first taken place.

As the final incantation left his lips, a surge of energy pulsed through the air. Time seemed to stand still as the barriers between the two worlds began to weaken, and (1) held his breath, waiting to see if his efforts had been in vain.

Suddenly, a brilliant light expanded from the center of the room, enveloping everything in its path. The light slowly faded, revealing a room no longer caught between two dimensions. It was as if the fusion had never occurred—a clean slate.

Overwhelmed by a mixture of relief and uncertainty, (1) cautiously stepped forward. And there, standing in front of him, were (2) and (3), just as he had seen them through the window. It was as if they had been transported back to their rightful place in this world.

As (2) and (3) looked at him with confusion and recognition in their eyes, (1) explained everything—the experiment, the fusion, and his quest to undo the damage. Expecting anger, mistrust, and rejection, (1) braced himself for the worst.

But to his surprise, (2) and (3) listened with open hearts and open minds. They understood the pain and regret that (1) had carried for so long, and they saw the sincerity in his eyes. Instead of casting him aside, they offered him forgiveness and a chance at redemption.

In the days that followed, (1) worked side by side with (2) and (3), helping to rebuild their lives without the shadows of their past. As they grew closer, (1) discovered that love and compassion were not reserved for those who were perfect, but for those who realized their mistakes and sought to make amends.

And so, (1) found his place in this newly restored world—a world where friendships were rekindled, love was shared, and second chances were cherished. It was a world he had longed for, and now, he would fight to protect it from any future threats or dark experiments.

With hope in his heart and a renewed sense of purpose, (1) vowed to use his knowledge and newfound redemption to better the lives of others. The past would always serve as a reminder of the consequences of greed and arrogance, but it would also push him forward, driving him to make a difference in the world he called home.

And so, the curtain closed on (1)'s dark chapter, and a new one began—one filled with hope, love, and the endless possibilities that life had to offer.

[Good mini plot, nothing like the character that (1) actually is but it made him a good person so good for him 🤷]

I wish I could’ve kept the first one because that was was so much more funny but it didn’t let me copy.

Also just putting this here, ai won’t replace anyones real writing, I did it for fun 🥲

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ok, I'm finished with work, I'm here! 🤣 I did read this before my shift but was waiting to do a proper response till now. It was super early and it was thundering and lightning and raining real hard outside and it was the perfect setting for reading this chapter ⛈️

The flashbacks! The way you wrote her pain was so real. Particularly her feeling paralyzed by it, both of them shells of who she thought they were. Her describing him as home, that was gut wrenching. I was hurting reading it. And then the sugar analogy, he really is gritty but sweet. this whole paragraph was my favourite part I think. You've created such good imagery, it's fantastic.

And then they get mean. I liked that she clapped back though. I've seen mean Eddie fics before and sometimes reader is kinda meek and just takes it (no shade at all, I would 200% be like this in real life) but roadkill does not. The line 'you had no intention of entertaining a conversation with someone who never had your best interest in mind' hit hard. People need to bear this in mind more often (definitely not me 👀) it's inspiring. but he really does try and that part where they're admitting they like eachother but it's all wrong because it's too late. This was 'stick a fork in my heart and just pluck it out beat it to death' angst. Just amazing writing. It's like they're breaking up and they weren't even together.

The self fulfilling prophecy situation Eddie's created for himself was hard. He's convinced he doesn't deserve love and fucks up every good thing in his life, and he makes it so. Isn't mature enough at the time so see it doesn't have to be that way, that he could make better choices. And so the kitchen scene at the end proves it. Poor roadkill. Proves that then was not the right time for them. He needed to get to the present day point to realise that he can make better choices, and he does 🖤

And now they're trapped together! And a totally different kind of trapped than just working together. Forced proximity within forced proximity. Very clever, see what you did there! I love that he's such a rock for her in her distress. And his thoughts on if she were his, how she never would be, how he's somehow fallen even harder. Stop iiiit you're killing me 😭 although this undoubtedly confirms he's got zero going on emotionally with Steve, and he even tells her that! Fist bumping the air at that! Their whole conversion after this was amazing. He's being so honest and she's clinging onto this shitty version of him she's gotten comfortable with because she's stubborn. and seems very good at holding a grudge and I relate to this so much. You have no idea. 'Don't mess me up with your niceness when I'm not used to it, I don't like change' kinda deal. The dialogue was so good here, the direction it goes. She's laying it out how awful it was and telling him how it's affected her dating in particular all this time and his reaction is perfect, it's a great take on misogyny and how that situation would have been terrifying and he understands that now. They were barking. Gross. But they end the conversation on good terms! Not forgiveness, but a ceasefire maybe? I can just see them attempting a friendship and it getting harder for him to hide how gone he is on her 🖤

p.s. them picturing touching eachothers noses the exact same way! I'm scrrreaming 😍 they're gonna be so in love and I can't wait.

Why you were ever scared to post this absolute masterpiece of a character study I'll never know. I loved it. But I guess you can tell that by now 🫣

🖤🖤

ILY IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO GET YOUR ASKS AFTER EVERY CHAPTER 😭

ugh yes that is such a fitting setting like just really setting the mood right there

IM SO HAPPY YOU LOVED THE SUGAR ANALOGY THAT WAS LIKE MY FAVORITE ugh I think that may be my favorite paragraph too 🥹

Yeah I found it really important for her not to hold back or excuse any of his behavior (even tho I’m totally the opposite idk like I’m so shy I would be like ok) UGH YES it feels like a huge breakup but there was never a relationship to begin with so in a way it’s more achey :(

I LOVE forced proximity, ik it’s been done so often but that’s because it’s so good like it just makes you yearn for them so to then double it is like YES NOW YOU HAVE TO GET YOUR DEMONS OUT WITH EACH OTHER HAHA

I’m so glad the take on misogyny landed well

you have no idea how excited I am for them to stop being idiots and just kiss BUT WE ARENT THERE YET

I WAS SO PROUD OF THE NOSE TOUCHING PARALLEL like it’s so simple but it makes you feel their yearning even if they don’t quite realize it yet SO IM GLAD YOU LIKED THAT PART 🥹

thank you thank you thank you I cannot thank you enough for your support on this fic I adore all of your feedback 😭🥹💜💜💜💜

[lovesongrecs]

god. okay, so my mutual on twt was kind enough to link me the fic she'd posted she'd been reading for sillies and shitposts but i, ever the depraved shinestar, was HOOKED on the little snippet of the end of chapter 2. it felt like the walls were closing in on me when i realized i had just inadvertently gotten scammed (in the best way possible, ofc!) because... 🫠 no smut. just unbridled edging. like omg... all that built up tension... the anticipation i had for what i thought would be the most nastiest, toe-curling smut i'd ever lay eyes on in my entire life... taken away from me within seconds. anyways, that was my fault for not peeping the lack of smut tags on ao3. nevertheless, i was absolutely enthralled by the plot progression so i continued reading and i am so so So glad i did.

my mind is all over the place... where do i even begin 😭 i quite literally just finished reading the latest chapter and. There's just so fucking much i feel just as overwhelmed as mc because... what the fuck!! like actually, what the fuck 😭😭 everyone in atz and itz need to perish omfg it does not cost us anything to be kind to each other... greek life shouldn't ever be this serious, but then again, they're mostly all filthy rich freaks who'll make dollars while the rest of us work our asses off to make dimes. such a sick world we live in... can't even escape the horrors of capitalistic greed in a frat!atz au...

but it's this greed that makes everything so interesting! the amount of layers to the plot is so sickening, i'm appalled by the reminder that this is just fanfiction and not the script of the next hit show everyone and their mom is raving about. i mean, hello? the character depth? the backstories? the way every single relationship between the characters is so intricately intertwined with another that just the slightest altercation between people tangled in this little web could (and did) set everything off? i need to figure out how to get you into the writer's room because this is insane. even just the mystery behind everyone's motives and end goals? this kind of talent is so rare that i find such immense pleasure in being able to pick it apart and put it back together in the form of a silly little review for the author to read. you all deserve to know just how in love i am with your mind!!

the way you write is impeccable. i don't ever use that word because, i'll be honest, i'm a little picky with my compliments! but i feel like you really deserve to hear that after the absolute whirlwind you just spun me through. from dialogue and nicknames for mc that are so specific to a single character, to the deliberately placed actions between them that give this sense of realism, and the endless detail used to create the setting you've envisioned for a scene... talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it – or whatever lady gaga said. everything fits together so perfectly and flows so seamlessly it imitates the state of being when you're completely, utterly immersed in a story it feels like you're actually there. this is such an important thing for me as someone who has grown up reading all sorts of literature. a fic i've read and reblogged in passing will eventually lose itself in my memory but a fic from a writer, whose voice and style is so strong it transports me into an alternate reality, will live with me forever.

i'm forever praying that there will be better days (and friends, god does she need better fucking friends) ahead for mc because so far... it's not looking too good for her. just when she thinks she can trust and open up to someone, they're already five steps ahead with their plan for her certain demise. i mean, come onnnn 😭 it's one thing to hook up with someone at a frat party, but to secretly pray on her downfall is just ridiculous. you're supposed to be sleazy, not a conniving little bitch in cahoots with this mysterious hbic, who's in close contact with the president of the sorority the girl you just slept with belongs to, and making a pledge go through the wackiest initiation for some undisclosed reason... literally what goes on anymore omfg like even the confrontation with wooyoung and hongjoong kicking him OUT of the frat? mina lying about her brother's whereabouts and creating such an elaborate sob story just to keep a two-timing jackass (according to vice president of all jackasses, apparently) who doesn't even want her? all while one of the sisters is literally fucking missing and no one has any information about her whereabouts? this b-plot is DISGUSTINGGGGGG (compliment 🙂‍↕️💗) – like it's actually so fucking ridiculous how the universe is just playing in mc's face right now... i'd have been in jail by now after putting every single one of those snakes in a saw trap. i can't even wrap my head around what seonghwa could possibly want out of this, who hbic is (i'm thinking mina or isla...), or... anything, really. i'm so shaken up with how everything's unfolding, but it makes me all the more excited for the next chapter 🫶🏼

Nasara University Home Page ✧ Meet ATZ ✧ Meet ITZ ✧ Tag

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

[one] - 'i can do it with a broken heart' ~ taylor swift

[two] - 'we can't be friends (wait for your love)' ~ ariana grande

[three] - 'tell ur girlfriend' ~ lay bankz

[four] - 'nonsense' ~ sabrina carpenter

[five] - ‘teenage dirtbag’ ~ wheatus

[six] - 'because i liked a boy' ~ sabrina carpenter

[seven] - ‘no church in the wild’ ~ jay-z/ye

[eight] -

~ more to come ~

read it on ao3 ✧ talk to me ✧ my masterlist