#i've always seen them and thought 'well that's not how i'd do it. but cool!' and i figured it was time to show how i'd do it

[dunmeshistash]

G'day, I hope you are doing well.

Ever since I finished the story of Dungeon Meshi (all supplementary material included) I've been writing down bullet points on characters in addition to in-depth synopses as a way to tidy up my rather busy mind. To this end I've also greatly enjoyed reading other folks' interpretations of particular characters, as it gives me further insight into aspects of that character I may have glossed over.

However, there's one character I'm struggling to write a cohesive synopsis about, that being none other than 'miss enigma' herself, Falin Touden. I get that her whole shtick is that she's kind of a mystery, but I find myself drawing a lot of blanks when it comes to her as a character, and while I have nailed down some important bullet points, there are a lot of different interpretations on her, all of which starkly contrast one another. Though perhaps it's just the wording. Hard to say.

It could very well be that I'm being too dense i.e. perceiving "Falin is willing to risk killing others to save her friends." and "Falin, in the heat of the moment, when faced with certain death, was willing to face the prospect of harming potential passersby in a final Hail Mary to get her friends to safety." as entirely different observations. I have a hard time with those kinds of things.

With this being a hub for all sorts of observations, interpretations and cool trivia, I was wondering if you'd perhaps be willing to share how you yourself perceive Falin as a character, so I can compare notes and perhaps gain a more proper understanding of her as a character as a result. I know this question is very broad and kind of vague, but if you could spare the time I'd be most grateful.

Other than that, I wish you an excellent day.

Hello!!! I love Falin!!!!!

She *is* a mystery, we mostly know Falin through the perception other characters have of her instead of a direct deep look onto who she is, which I find very interesting. I think the best post I've seen about her (which as usual I can't remember where edit: someone linked it thank uu) I think called her perceived altruism/love "selfish" and I've been thinking about that ever since.

In that sense the way she cares so much about the comfort of people around her might be a way to keep *her own* comfort because she doesn't want to see other people suffer.

This girly died and came back to life from bones and the first thoughts she has is that she caused trouble for her loved ones

She probably has felt this way since she was a child, "because of her" that her family was torn apart "because of her" that Laios left, her mom was sick, her father had to send her away. (wasn't actually her fault but she might think it is)

I imagine ever since then Falin has done her best to not cause trouble and to make the people she loves happy, everything we know about her and the things she was doing was always for the people she loved, that's why I enjoy the post canon comic where Toshiro asks her hand in marriage again so much. The first time she considers accepting just because "might as well" while for the second time she finally wants to live for herself.

I think Falin herself has lost who she "really is" by trying to accommodate everyone around her and that's probably part of why we ourselves don't really know her, so much so that the most cynical character is uncomfortable around her (probably cause he notices Falin is "hiding" something)

I think Falin is quite the melancholic character to be honest, someone who has lost herself in self sacrifice and who is only now learning how to live for herself doing what she wants.

Both the teleportation scene and the bit about healing show "cracks" in the selfless front she puts out tbh. By context I don't think what she did was only due to "desperation of the moment" she says out loud "Even if I end up hurting others I want you and my brother to live on". She weighted out how much suffering she might cause and decided she wanted to save them anyway, and I'm sure in that calculation she knew that they would suffer because of her sacrifice too.

Falin is saving them for herself, I'm not great with words so this is all over the place and maybe sounds a little negative about Falin but the thing is, you cannot live your life for other people, you can't sacrifice yourself for other people's happiness, you shouldn't erase your own presence so others are happier and I think Falin is starting to learn that by the end.

I'd probably keep rambling without getting anywhere and missing a lot of more meaningful moments but I'll stop here, if anyone has recs for Falin analysis please share!

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (5/-)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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yourusername: feliz día de san valentín 💌 Liked by alexiaputellas, albaps9, bff3 and 3,927 others

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janafernandez3 I knew you were smiling more than usual lately!!!!

ingridengen Congrats, sweet girl! 😘

ona.battle Yaayy!

marialeonn16 Bambiiii, yes! 😭

salmaparalluelo Have the sweetest day!

bff3 At last 😉❤️

mikkykiemeney cuteee 🎀

marisabel_rguez Lucky girl! ↳ yourusername me or her? ↳ marisabel_rguez Uhh, trick question? liked by yourusername and 15 others

bff1 about timeeeee. i'm so happy for you 💃🤗

username1 the bracelet???? ↳ username2 THE M!! ↳ username3 the m! 😱 ↳ username1 who else do we know she hangs out with that starts with M that doesn't rhyme with visa? ↳ username4 mapi 🤣 ↳ username2 let's not pretend we don't know who it is lol

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Direct Messages marisabel_rguez Happy valentine's, mi querida. I've got a surprise for you. ↳ yourusername another one?? you spoil me too much 😠 ↳ marisabel_rguez As I should, please let me!! ↳ marisabel_rguez So, are you coming? ↳ marisabel_rguez Don't keep me waiting, guapa. ↳ yourusername fuck, okay Seen

alexiaputellas Hey hermanita, I know you were hesitant to tell us about your love life a little while ago, not wanting to jinx things and taking that time together to explore things in private before making things official.... but we will always love you no matter what and we want to love who's made you this happy too. So whenever you're ready, okay? Follow your gut and heart. I'd love to meet your special someone and learn everything about how she makes you happy, how you met, what she's like. I promise to be nice! 😉 Te quiero mucho, ardilla. Delivered

albaps9 yn i'm not going to lie, i'm hurt you've kept me out of the loop after i helped you get through it all. especially when i had to find out myself through instagram posts?? i always like to believe that you know you can come to me for your lows and your highs, so it hurts when you don't. i know you deal with these kind of things differently, especially after all that's happened, so i'll get over it and push my pride aside. but we'll still talk about this, kay? i just hope that you can let us in on your happiness once you're ready. and please don't forget that you deserve this and everything else you haven't even thought of. albaps9 btw, i'll keep my mouth shut for now like you asked, but i don't like keeping things from alexia and mama so it's best they hear it from you instead of connecting the dots as well. i won't lie to them if they ask me directly. i know you're hesitant to start anything new or to tell us so that we won't worry again. i get that you want to keep it private until you're sure it's serious, but we're here for you either way. no judgements, no standards. we just want to see you at your happiest and be there to see you like that. okay? vale. also, i love you, you fucking turd. Delivered

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Direct Messages

leilaouahabi Boooo, wrong equipo! ↳ yourusername you don't even play for barça anymore 🤣 ↳ leilaouahabi Once a culer, always a culer!!! Which you SHOULD KNOW! ↳ yourusername 😛 Seen

albaps9 lol alexia is sooo gonna interrogate you over this. good luck. i've kept my mouth so far but you're making it veeeery hard on yourself, little one. Seen

claudiaapina Just... why?! 😱 Seen

janafernandez3 Not cool 😣 ↳ yourusername sorry, lovely ): Delivered

alexiaputellas Que pasa??????? Yn...? 😟 alexiaputellas Oi, don't leave me on seen on this one!! Seen

marisabel_rguez You liked the match? ↳ yourusername sorry, what? was too busy ogling the goalie the entire match. still thinking about her, frankly. ↳ marisabel_rguez That's all I needed to hear. ↳ marisabel_rguez What about her are you thinking of exactly? ↳ yourusername well, what time she'll come back to the hotel, for example? ↳ marisabel_rguez Few hours or so, she just told me. Don't miss her too much in the meantime. ↳ yourusername welp... that's going to be hard! i need her here ): ↳ marisabel_rguez Keep the bed warm for her then. Think you can do that? ↳ yourusername on it. but tell her to not make me wait too long. ↳ marisabel_rguez Or? ↳ yourusername the door will be locked and i'll have a mighty entertaining evening all by myself... ↳ marisabel_rguez Y/n... 😫 ↳ yourusername 😊 Seen

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yourusername: found her. my missing piece 🧩 Liked by marisabel_rguez, marialeonn16, leahwilliamsonn and 4,287 others

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bff1 but you fucking hate puzzles. lockdown proved that. ↳ bff3 Because we couldn't find the missing piece for weeks, then found it in the couch!!!!!!! ↳ yourusername if i had known that’s where she’d be hidden away all this time, i would’ve deep cleaned the apartment waaaay sooner liked by 13 others ↳ bff3 🥹 ↳ yourusername that unfinished puzzle still haunts my dreams btw ↳ bff1 i too have nightmares of jigsaws, but i think that's a different sorta jigsaw entirely 👹🔪 ↳ bff2 who are you and what you have done with our friend for you to ignore that last slide @/bff1 ↳ bff1 the one time i behave and it's not appreciated? ffs ↳ bff3 I hadn't even noticed that one holy heckkk, yn!! so cute!! 🤩

albaps9 okay i see you, that’s why your door was locked ↳ bff1 be happy that it was 😬😂 ↳ yourusername um hello? can't a couple take a sweet bath together? ↳ bff1 um hi? sweet bath... my ass! ↳ albaps9 um HELLO? i'm still here?! 🤮

bff1 cheeseball ↳ yourusername only saying it how it is 🤷‍♀️

username1 still no tag?? 😫 ↳ username2 omfg leave them be ↳ username3 No need when the answers pretty clear ↳ username4 brb zooming in on that tatted hand 🕵️‍♀️

alexiaputellas Yn, everyone can see this ↳ jennihermoso You're just pressed that YOU saw it. And this was so tame. ↳ alexiaputellas Still my little sister. ↳ jennihermoso Part two: you're just pressed you don't know who she's snogging. ↳ alexiaputellas Can I dislike a comment on here, too?

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↳ 45min ago: yourusername added to their story This story is no longer available

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Direct Messages

albaps9 did you forget mama follows you too? she did NOT get the goalie joke and took it very literal albaps9 this one landed so wrong for ale too, she immediately called mami to call you 🤣 albaps9 ynn mami’s just asked me about it again. told her to text you, have fun with that. i love you but i'm not fixing your mess 🙃👋😘  Seen

alexiaputellas Y/n disculpe, but you posted it on your public story. And even if you'd posted it to your closed friends... I'm on there as well. Can I at least meet who you're seeing before I know, well... you know. Delivered

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Text Messages

○○○○○○○ mama 🌷(ICE) Why don't you pick up, laelia? mama 🌷(ICE) Mi hija... let me tell you something. mama 🌷(ICE) In relationships, some things are meant to be kept between the couple. To keep it special and protected. mama 🌷(ICE) If your story talks about what I think it does, you omg no mami, let's not, por FAVOR. i deleted it already!! mama 🌷(ICE) Vale, but seems I needed to say it to you, didn't I? You put yourself in this predicament. I see what you post too, linda. mama 🌷(ICE) Now, don't be embarrassed. When two people really love each other, that's just how things go. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to show that side to one another. you please don't, i will ignore you. mama 🌷(ICE) Y/n, there's no need to feel weird. You can talk to me about everything. About sex too. I'm your mother, I'm supposed to help you navigate these things in life. It's important to feel comfortable during intercourse with yourself and your partner and to both enjoy it. It's not good to learn everything from the internet nowadays and I would never want you feeling insecure or worried about something when you can just talk to me about it. Nothing is too crazy, vale? you ○○○ mama 🌷(ICE) But it so happens that your sister is well-known and that means that some of her audience finds your internet pages too. I'm sure you didn't mean it in a bad way, but think of it next time, okay, querida? mama 🌷(ICE) And I just want to add, a healthy sex life is important, so it's good that you have that and can talk about what you like or don't like with each other. But I'd prefer not finding out you do from the internet. Or before having met your girlfriend. This goes for Alexia, too. She didn't like it. I want my first impression of your girlfriend to be a little different than knowing what she's good at, so to say. I know, no judgements from me, but you're still our niña pequiña, laelia. you ○○○ you ○○○ Read

Text Messages

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you you free right now? albaquerque 🌼 nope. still at work. why? you ack, you butt, you're texting me rn aren't you? albaquerque 🌼 bc when my tiny munchkin of a sis needs me, i'm here. it wounds me that you still don't know that </3 albaquerque 🌼 no seriously why? you buy a shovel after work and please, PUH-lease, help and bury me alive. albaquerque 🌼 jajajajaja mami?? you si, i want the ground to swallow me whole albaquerque 🌼 well i don't have time to come and help you, but maybe your gf will help you dig it with her bare, good-working, skilled and strong hands? or are you going to say she's even better with her tongue now? 😂😂😂😂 you vete a la mierda albaquerque 🌼 now for the love of god, go and tell ale before it's too late. she knows it's a goalie now, it's only a matter of time, yn. after that i'll help you shovel both your graves. seeing as misa will likely need one too. it'll be sooo romantic being next to each other even in death 😍 Seen

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username1: Well, the match just ended and... that was intense? Wanna guess what they were talking about before the ref sent them apart? I also want to know what Alexia quickly yapped to Misa after the goal because whatever it was, it wrecked her up for the rest of the match 😬 1...2...3.. go! Liked by 120 people

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username1 rip misa ouch, she looked so hurt ):

username2 ✨welcome to the family✨

username3 Yeah that didn't look too friendly but still personal 😬

username4 i just knew alexia was waiting all evening to wipe the smug smile off misa’s face the second they all shook hands before the kickoff lol

username5 First run-in with the in-laws already 😆😆

username6 misa’s strong for still staying with yn after this, i would’ve ran and cried, tail between my legs if alexia had done this like yes ma'am, okay ma'am, sorry ma'am.

username7 this was prob just the initiation to the putellas fam 🤝

username8 “Yn babe? Do you think your sister likes me?” :

username9 Awwwkwarddd...

username10 not yn making it worse by going to misa first after the match 🤣🤣🤣

username11 alexia the entire time: 🤨😐 ↳ username5 fr if looks could kill 🥴 ↳ username10 yn would be girlfriend-less

username12 yn come get your woman 

username13 Bark bark.

username14 MISA! BAD! ↳ username10 exactly, misa’s down bad 🤪

username15 Would've killed to be a fly on the wall in that locker room and hear the goss

username16 well, looks like they were having a great time 😳

username17 not the camera panning to yn momentarily ↳ username18 the camera operator is one of us 😭👏

username19 knowing misa, no appropriate words came out of that mouth tho 🤣🥵

username20 claws out 🥊 

username21 "You fuck my little sister? I'll fuck up your saving ratio! ☺️"

username20 okay no, if my gf fought in my honour and looked this good while doing it, i’d swoon ↳ username18 she didn’t save it tho 🫠 ↳ username20 it is the thought that counts!!!

username22 Wait, what happened between them? I thought they were such good friends? They used to have all these sweet moments together. That entire pk situation seemed so hostile... ↳ username15 Misa's allegedly dating Alexia's youngest sister. But no idea why they seemed so sour.

username23 everyone always talks about enemies to friends, but what about friends to enemies🤣

username24 Who cares?? Forca Barcaaaa!

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Text Messages

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you proud of you 🖤

m 💌 Shit game, but I could hear you cheer me on multiple times. Gracias, querida.

you yeah? you did?

m 💌 Yes 😘 It probably wasn't easy for you to cheer on both teams, but thank you for having my back.

you ofc, my love. always. 

you i'll always be your favourite cheerleading wag 🤩

m 💌 My only one! And you look really good doing it.

you too bad you didn’t save that pk tho, bc i would’ve screamed your name

m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 We still have tonight, no?

you ○○○ you ○○○ you ○○○ you ○○○ you no. you not before you apologise to alexia. you i know you said some things to get her that irked

m 💌 I’m just mad she’s mad. You're finally happy and now she's not. We told her and the first thing she did was walk away and ignore us for two weeks. That hurt. I tried to mend things during camp, but she was cold the entire time. She's making me feel like I'm not good enough for you. I know I shouldn't let my insecurities talk, but I also didn't like how her reaction to us made you go back to your ways of internalising and such. I don't like seeing you like that. And maybe she wouldn't have reacted this way if you were dating someone she didn't know, and then she wouldn't have had this reaction towards you either.

m 💌 And I've been feeling this mad since that very first moment, so I guess it just came out. I feel even worse now, because I never wanted to put you in this situation or make things with her even worse.

m 💌 Dios mio, and your mother was there too. I'm so sorry, Y/n.

you it's okay misa, you're a passionate person and are loud and fierce when you love. never apologise for it, because it's the very thing i love about you. i would never expect you to change your ways for anyone. i know you've been upset, and i'm sorry that it's not something i could control. but alexia has every right to feel that way, we should’ve handled it differently... told her sooner. i could see it hurt her when she realised mama and alba already knew. we've owned up to our mistake, but she needs some time to come around and forgive us, accept this is happening. she will, in time. that's just her. she's known you for a while and now i'm with you... she needs time to adjust not only seeing you as her friend, but as my girlfriend too. she feels a little awkward. i don't know what you said, but that probably didn't help her feel comfortable about the entire thing. no matter how much it worked me up seeing you that way.

m 💌 I'm not that kind of person to talk that way about women. Or about you.

you i know, amor. you but what did you say to her?

m 💌 I asked her if she was ready to take it, if she was sure, just normal talk to get her off focus, you know? It wasn't meant as anything personal, but then she returned the question, but about you. Asked me if I was sure about taking it while you were watching. I said that it would only help me do better. Then she asked me if I was sure I was good for you. 

you you are, please don't ever doubt yourself. you so so so so are.

m 💌 I tried to, but it just hit me the wrong way. So then the whole tone changed but everyone was watching so we tried to keep it lowkey, but it was so hard. I asked what kind of sister would say such a thing when you're clearly happy with me. Probably got a little cocky and said you'd come to me when I saved it, not to her, especially after her recent behaviour with you. I might have implied something would happen tonight between us if I saved it, though. That you were mine now. And I hate myself because I keep hearing the way I sounded while saying it and it disgusts me and I made it worse and I would never talk or think about you like property but the way she looked at me and said those things I just really wanted to hurt her back and I knew that would do it. I fucking hate and regret it. 

you easy, misa, i know, love. it's okay. i know you don't see me that way, you've never treated me as such. but it's happened, don't dwell on that. we can think of how to fix things now, okay? you but what did she whisper in your ear when she collected the ball from the goal?

m 💌 It's fine, don't you worry about it, querida.

you you don't have to protect me from it, you know? it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but i'll ask ale about it either way. i want to know what hurt you so badly, and don't even deny it. i know you. whatever she said, don't take it to heart. not going to lie, you probably hit some vulnerable spots. i'll explain later why alexia's extra aggy about it all. but we need to talk about this, the three of us. and you two need to make up too. i'll coax up to her first or things might get even worse. going to her and olga's place rn.

you listen to me, everything will be okay, babe. vale? i love you.

m 💌 Yo tambien ❤️ you you can make yourself welcome at my place. dinner's in the fridge. you oh WAIT m 💌 Patiently 😇 you DON'T eat my cannoli!!!!!!!!!!!!!! m 💌 I was kind of planning on doing exactly that tonight... with your permission, of course 😉 you fuck you i love you 😩 m 💌 I love you more.

you and about that me being yours thing, if you ever say that again, i will jump your bones.

m 💌 You better hurry up then. 

m 💌 But be safe.

m 💌 You're my everything. And I really love you. Can you please never forget that?

Delivered

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↳ 49min ago: alexiaputellas added to their story 

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Text Messages

○○○○○○○ ale🐻 Home? you home! ale🐻 Safe? you and sound ❤️ ale🐻 Wish you could have stayed a little longer but today was... overwhelming and I'm spent. you it's okay, ale, everything's good again, yea? ale🐻 With you, always. Just give me a little more time. It still hurts a little, I wish I had known sooner. For what it's worth, I think you've found yourself both a best friend and a lover in her. I'm happy for you. you really? ale🐻 Yes, of course. I'm sorry my behaviour lately has made you question that. ale🐻 I realise it wasn't fair of me to not give you the freedom to decide your own life. You're your own person, no longer the little pigtailed pipsqueak hanging onto my neck with all your million questions all the damn time jaja. you don't think the pigtails will make a comeback, but i'll happily tackle your back for piggyback rides again? ale🐻 Please ❤️ ale🐻 But when you got so hurt last time around, we lost you. Lost the smiley you. The giddy you. The hermanita we knew. We couldn't reach you and that was really scary. I didn't know how to help and was not always around because of football. It's still one of my biggest regrets. I guess I'm just scared of you ever losing yourself like that again because someone broke your heart, so anyone who gets close to you like that... well, I don't like them or want them around you. But that was never fair of me. Because that was also going against what I want, which is you at your happiest. ale🐻 But when Misa made that comment before the penalty, she just sounded a lot like... you my ex. ale🐻 Si. I hate how I accidentally heard your ex talk about you like that, but then I hate it even more that that was normal for you... day in, day out. And then I hate myself again for not realising sooner and having pulled you out of that environment the second you started dating. If only I'd been around, I would've seen through her the second we met. I'm so sorry. you Don't be. She played it well. But I don't want to talk about that. What's done is done. I'm sorry you felt like that. ale🐻 Don't apologise for someone else's behaviour. ale🐻 Anyway, it was stupid for me to take out my frustration on Misa. If I hadn't, she wouldn't have caught my bait. I know Misa's not like that. It was just a little bad-mouthing to get the nerves up. But she hit me exactly where it hurt. Don't think she realised. you she does realise. she doesn't know why it hurt exactly, but she feels bad and wants to apologise. face to face. can she? not tonight of course. go get your sleep now. you just, one of these days? please. you i want you two to get along again. i don't want our relationship to ruin your friendship just as much as i don't want you to hate my girlfriend. ale🐻 Vale. ale🐻 You love her, and I've loved her as a friend before she meant something to you. I'll try, okay? you you sound a lot like mama you did she give you a lecture after the game? ale🐻 😣 you how are your ears? still hurting from the pinching? 🤣 ale🐻 I'm too tall for that now , she can't reach me😁 ale🐻 But it's okay. Go to sleep, laelia 😛 ale🐻 I love you. you i love you too you and i'll never not look up to you ale🐻 And I promise that from now on, I'll never not be here for you 😘

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enjoy your week lovelies 🌻

[eunsuri]

The Lighthouse

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: Lavellan explores The Lighthouse and reunites with her heart.

Word Count: 6,608

Warnings: ANGST. Lots of emotions. Lots of love. VEILGUARD SPOILERS.

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy 2 weeks until Veilguard! This has taken me way longer to write than I'd hoped, but I MADE IT! This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art by @pani-artz, I couldn't resist! I've kept Lavellan's description vague for those who would like to keep their own Lavellan in mind while reading! Also posted on AO3!

“We’re here.”

A cold breeze swept through the crossroads, cooling Lavellan’s skin as she stepped up the stairs, Harding, and Leliana flanking her from behind. The three stood before the Eluvian, the shimmering surface glowing faintly. The ancient mirror reflected the crumbled pieces of the ruins floating within the crossroads, flickering with ancient magic and ready to draw them into another world.

Anticipation stirred in Lavellan’s stomach, her senses heightened and glaring at her warped reflection. The faint glow of the mirror’s surface cast a strange light across the stone floor through the overgrown foliage around its frame, and the chill in the air seemed to seep into her bones. 

Harding and Leliana exchanged glances behind her, but she hardly noticed, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest like a wild creature trying to escape its cage. Harding had seen this Lighthouse before, She knew what lay behind the Eluvian, all the memories hidden in Solas’ base of operations.

Lavellan knew Solas wouldn’t be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, what awaited was everything he had left behind—his memories, his isolation, the echoes of a life spent in the shadows. The thought of stepping into his world, of facing the remnants of his past and the pieces he had chosen to keep hidden, sent a wave of dread through her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for what she might see—for how deeply his loneliness would be etched into every corner of this place

He had stopped appearing in her dreams, no matter how hard she searched the endless distance where he once stood, always watching over her from afar. Even when she reached out, he’d slip away like a shadow, yet his presence had brought her comfort. Night after night, she would speak to him—tell him how much she missed him, how she longed to change his heart. The wolf never answered, but the sorrow in his eyes cut deeper each time, and her desperation to find him only grew over the years.

Now, her dreams were empty, filled with nothing but the ache of waiting for a love that never came. Sleepless nights blurred together as she wondered if he had forgotten her, or if something terrible had happened to him. When Harding had brought news that Solas was alive but trapped in the Fade, it brought a measure of relief, yet doubt still gnawed at her. Would she find any sign that he remembered her in this place, or had she been lost to him as well?

Harding broke the silence, her voice gentle but laced with tension. “It’s… a lot to take in, but I thought you might want to see it.” She paused, then added, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Lavellan’s breath caught in her throat, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over her. Ready? She didn’t think she ever could be. How could anyone prepare to see the deepest, most private parts of someone they loved, but had lost so long ago? 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She needed to do this, no matter how much it hurt. She needed to understand him in a way she hadn’t before, to see his world, his pain, and his purpose. Where he had been all this time, if he remembered her. Even if he wasn’t there to explain it himself.

Lavellan took a shaky, deep breath and stepped toward the mirror, the surface rippling as she neared. With a final glance back at Harding and Leliana, she stepped through and the two followed.

Emerging on the other side, her breath caught in her chest. The three stepped into a realm bathed in a warm, golden glow, as if suspended in the sky. Floating islands hovered in the distance, each dotted with autumn-hued trees as if kissed by sunlight, gently swaying in an unseen breeze. Ancient elven ruins, crumbled yet graceful, drifted among them, suspended in the air like forgotten dreams.

Before them stood a weathered statue of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, positioned in the heart of the courtyard. It was a figure of a protector—his posture calm, watching over the space with an almost serene presence. Cracks ran through the stone, softened by patches of moss that had claimed him over time, as though nature itself had embraced him. The statue seemed ancient, yet resilient, a symbol of an age long past, guarding the Lighthouse like a silent sentinel.

Beyond the statue, the Lighthouse rose, stretching impossibly high into the sky, its top crowned by a bright magical light encased in a spinning golden roof. The beacon pulsed with an ethereal glow, guiding not only the lost but also wandering spirits seeking refuge. The golden accents that decorated the Lighthouse shimmered in the sunlight, long streams of green fabric dancing in the wind.

Lavellan marvelled at the beauty and serenity of the place as she continued towards the entrance of the Lighthouse, carefully stepping down the broken staircase. The large door opened as the three approached, allowing them to enter the towering building.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the faded murals stretching along the pathway, their muted colours leading into the centre of the Lighthouse. Each one told a story—Solas’ time in Arlathan, his stories of rebellion, and the ancient history of the elves, including the tale of the Evanuris' downfall.The images on the walls, the stories painted into the stone, all reflected the weight of millennia. 

Murals she had seen variations of before caught her eye, depicting Fen’Harel freeing slaves and removing their Vallaslin, as he had once done for her. Another told the story of the Evanuris’ rise to power and their tyrannical ways, with Fen’Harel’s outstretched arms attempting to show them they were not truly gods.

The Dalish legends she had grown up with had taught her to fear the Dread Wolf, to tread lightly lest the trickster god hear her footsteps. But now, knowing him as she did—not as the villain in their stories, but as the man who had fought to free his people, the man she loved—her heart was torn. The fear remained, lingering like an old scar, but it was now tangled with love, understanding, and sorrow for what he had become.

Lavellan wandered through the Lighthouse, her steps slow as she absorbed the surroundings. Relics of a world long lost lay scattered around, each one steeped in both history and longing. The air felt thick with memories—some sorrowful, others sacred—echoes of a time far beyond reach.

She found herself in a large room that appeared to be underwater, giant framed glass windows as a barrier between the water, with many schools of fish swimming through the depths. A lone green leather sofa was situated in the middle of the room, stuffed bookshelves lined the walls, and an array of candles scattered across the floor creating a cosy warmth that drew her in. 

It was then that a soft flicker of candlelight against brilliant colours drew her gaze to a mural, its glow pulling at her like a distant memory. A set of candles was arranged on either side of the mural, almost as though it were a shrine. As she made her way towards the artwork, her heart sank deep into her stomach, a heavy weight settling in her chest.

The painting depicted a woman—one hand raised high, a radiant burst of green light pouring from her palm, the other clutching a sword close to her chest. Below the hilt, the familiar mark of the Inquisition gleamed. It was her.

The weight of this realisation struck her in an instant, chest tightening with disbelief, an ache settling deep as sorrow wrapped itself around her heart. Her likeness, immortalised in these ancient halls, was a reminder of what she once stood for, of the time they shared and the distance between them now. 

Her fingers traced along the lines of the mural, imagining the strokes Solas had made, his hand dragging the brush across the stone with care. Every detail, every line, told her this was more than a mere addition to his collection of stories. This was crafted with love. He had painted her not just to remember her, but to hold onto her presence, as though each stroke was a vow to never let her fade from his memory.

Tears pooled along her eyelashes. She didn’t know whether to feel honoured, heartbroken, or both. Every detail of the mural seemed to call out to her, each brushstroke a whisper of what had been, what was lost. Slowly, Lavellan’s gaze fell to a small wooden box resting beneath the mural, its presence unassuming, as though it had always been waiting for her.

Hands trembling, she reached for the box, dragging her fingertips along the warmed wood, and gently lifted the lid. Inside, nestled among the old wood, lay Solas' jawbone necklace. The one he had always worn. Lavellan paused, inspecting the familiar necklace before  reaching to lift it from the box. The sensation of the cold bone and thick rope looped around it was almost foreign, yet the weight of its meaning was still heavy.

As the jawbone rested in her palm, memories surged through her mind—fragments of what they once had. She recalled how she’d often tug him closer by the necklace, his lips moving against hers, fervent and desperate, as though her touch were the very air he breathed. She remembered idly tracing the rigid texture of the necklace as she lay against his chest, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breath as he shared quiet stories of the Fade. Each moment felt as tangible as the cool bone now in her grasp.

She could no longer hold it with the same warmth she once had, but the connection to him, to their shared past, lingered still. The weight of the jawbone in her hand felt like a lifeline to the man she had been hunting for all these years. Desperate to keep that feeling close, she gently lifted the necklace over her head, letting the familiar curve of bone rest against her chest. It settled there, and for a brief moment, she felt as though she had him with her again.

Lavellan clutched the bone in her hand while blinking away the lingering tears which threatened to fall at any moment. As she moved forward, every step felt heavier, unable to shake the palpable sense of solitude that hung in the air. This place, with all its beauty, was not just a refuge for spirits. It was a place of mourning—a sanctuary for Solas’ lost hopes, where his memories whispered through every crack in the stone, and his loneliness lingered like a shadow.

Further in, a large dining table sat in the centre of the room. The long wooden surface stretched out before her, grand and ancient, yet only a single place setting lay at its head—a lone plate, a single cup, and neatly arranged cutlery beside them. An ache squeezed in her chest at the sight. This table, large enough for a gathering, bore only the quiet signs of one man’s solitary meals. Solas had sat here alone, day after day, surrounded by memories and ghosts of his old ambitions. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of him there, sitting quietly, the vast emptiness echoing through the room as he contemplated the burden of his mission. He had been so steadfast, so determined, yet the loneliness had seeped into every corner of his existence. How many nights had he sat here in silence, the weight of his choices pressing down on him, thinking that this was the only choice he had.

The simple setting was a stark reminder of everything he had left behind for his mission—companionship, love, the simple joys of shared moments. The pain choked at Lavellan's throat and the tears she had fought streamed down her skin as she took in the sight. She rested a hand on the back of the chair, picturing him there, staring into the distance across the table, as he grappled with the weight of millennia. He had shut everyone out, even those who would have fought beside him, and in doing so, had consigned himself to this eternal isolation.

Lavellan stood still by the table, the weight of her thoughts pushing down on her shoulders like a storm cloud on the verge of breaking. Her sadness gave way to a simmering anger that twisted deep in her chest. How could he have left her—left them—like this?  If only Solas had confided in her—trusted her with his truths. If only he had let her share the burden that had twisted his path into something unrecognisable. Things could have been different; they could have faced this together. She could have stood by his side, helped him bear the weight of his cause, find a better way, and maybe, just maybe, spared them both the pain of this isolation.

The thoughts of what could have been pierced through her, sharp and unyielding. How different would their lives have been if he hadn’t pushed her away, if he hadn’t shrouded himself in secrecy and left her to chase shadows for years? Heavy and unrelenting regret settled into her bones. They could have shared this—this fight, this journey. She had loved him enough to stay, to fight for him, but he had locked her out, too consumed by his purpose, too afraid to burden her with the truth. 

Her fingers curled into her palms, hands clenched at her sides, frustration clawing its way up her body as she thought of the pain he had caused—his actions had left Varric wounded, with the false gods free to wreak their havoc upon the world. He had condemned himself to isolation, convinced he was sparing her the pain when, in truth, he had only deepened the wound.

Maybe he had been too proud, too wrapped in his conviction that he had to bear this weight alone. He hadn’t let her love him the way she could have. If only. If only things had been different. If only he had trusted her.

Lavellan’s thoughts were then interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. She wiped at her eyes hastily, straightening her posture as Leliana appeared at the doorway.

“They’ve returned,” Leliana spoke softly. “Rook and the others are back.”

Lavellan turned, her heart still heavy from the weight of her reflections. Without a word, she nodded, following Leliana out of the room and towards the group that had gathered in the main hall.

There was more to it now—she’d learned that Rook had formed a connection with Solas. A tether, almost, caused by the disrupted ritual. She had to know if there was a way, some hidden thread she could pull to reach him herself, to bridge the distance between them once more. 

A spark of determination tingled through her skin. If Rook had found a way to connect, perhaps she could too.

Later that same evening, with the sharp sting of her discoveries still fresh in her chest, Lavellan found herself standing in the Fade. 

Rook had spoken of how they had become connected to Solas through the ritual gone wrong, their fates intertwined, and Lavellan had seized upon that fragile link. It was all she needed—a thread, however thin, to follow him.

With Varric’s warning in her ears and Solas’ necklace warm against her skin, she stepped forward, stumbling through the dark and desolate landscape of the Fade. The twisted remnants of broken elven statues loomed around her, their cracked surfaces glinting dully in the ethereal light, like forgotten memories trapped in stone. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic, a bitter tang that clung to her tongue, tainted by a ritual gone horribly wrong. 

As she moved, the ground crumbled beneath her feet, each step sending a shiver through her body as she navigated the uneven terrain. She could feel Solas’ presence—distant, yet unmistakable—like a flickering flame in the depths of her mind, pulling her forward despite the air of despair that settled around her like a shroud. Echoes of lost voices whispered through the stillness, their lamentations brushing against her ears, urging her to keep searching in this forsaken place.

She had worked so hard to find him over the past ten years, constantly reaching for him in her dreams only for him to slip away like a fading memory. Her relief at hearing he was alive warred with the anger gnawing at her heart. He had stopped appearing in her dreams, and for so long she had feared the worst—afraid he had been consumed by his mission, or worse, by his pride. Yet here he was, trapped in the Fade, perhaps lost in his own way.

The thought of him being trapped, cut off from everything, pulled at her heart. Just as she had found him again, he was suffering. But that grief mixed with a simmering anger. He had hurt Varric, who had only been trying to stop him from making a terrible mistake.

Her steps quickened, the greyed path through the Fade twisting and bending as though it were alive. She remembered Varric’s words—how he had tried to stop Solas, how Solas, in his struggle tugging at the lyrium dagger, had let it go too far. The thought stung, reopening the old wounds that had never fully healed. He had hurt someone they both cared about. Had it been an accident, or had his obsession with his plan blinded him to everything else?

It was then she saw him. Solas stood at the edge of the platform, his presence powerful and untouchable like a distant star. His eyes caught hers with a knowing look, as though he had been expecting her all along. 

His strong stance wavered ever so slightly, a near imperceptible shift. Somehow, he was even more beautiful than she remembered. He was draped in dark leather armour that hugged his frame, his broad shoulders embellished with gold which decorated his chest as well. His face remained sharp and regal, though it now carried a colder edge. The weight of his millennia-old burden clung to him, as heavy as the Fade around them.

The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, but it was quickly swallowed by the bitter pang of nostalgia and regret, memories crashing over her like an ice cold wave. Lavellan’s voice faltered, the carefully rehearsed words slipping from her grasp, lost under the crushing gravity of his presence. For countless nights, she had imagined this moment—each conversation, every plea, practised over and over. But now, as he stood before her, all those thoughts scattered like dust, leaving her speechless.

“Solas.”

Her voice trembled with the only thing she could utter, a raw mix of anger and longing breaking free. Lavellan felt the years between them collapse. The sorrow, the love, the pain, and the anger—it all surged forward, overwhelming her in an instant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Solas’ expression remained guarded, though the tension in his jaw and the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. His lips parted, as though he might speak, but the words died unspoken on his tongue. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken history.

Lavellan’s heart raced as she struggled to steady her breath, emotions crashing over her: love, anger, and grief all vying for control. She wanted to scream at him for the pain he'd caused—to her friends, to her. She wanted to demand answers, to weep for his loneliness, for how lost he had become. But she also longed to run into his arms, to hold him so tightly he could never leave again, to feel the warmth of his lips, to taste the love they once shared.

Across the distance, Solas silently soaked in the sight before him. Amidst the boundless darkness of his prison, his heart stood before him once more. A dull ache crawled from his chest into his throat as he noticed how time had touched her. Soft lines had etched themselves across her skin—subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone but him. She looked exhausted, as though the years had been heavy, yet her beauty had not faded. Her eyes still held the same fire, the same brightness that had captivated him. 

His gaze fell to her arm, the gleam of metal catching his eye—her prosthetic. The sight of it twisted his heart into a deep, bitter knot of guilt. She had lost her arm because of choices he had made. Though removing it would save her from an untimely end, her connection to the Anchor would have consumed her had the arm remained. However, that knowledge offered little comfort. 

It was because of him. she had been marked in the first place, that she had been forced to bear that burden, to lose part of herself for a cause that had never truly been hers to fight. He carefully swallowed the pain in his throat in an attempt to mask the surge of sorrow that threatened to break through.

For a heartbeat, the distance between them seemed insurmountable and never ending. Yet the connection they had forged so long ago, deep and unshakable, remained—like a tether drawing them together even now. 

Solas shifted subtly, searching the depths of his mind for words that could bridge the chasm of time and pain between them. No words could repair the damage that had been done, not a single syllable could undo the devastation he had caused.

“Vhenan…” he whispered at last, his voice rough, heavy with all the things left unsaid. It was the only word he could manage, the only truth left to him, spoken as though it held within it all his love and regret. The word hung in the air like a fragile promise.

The harsh and unforgiving hand of grief gripped Lavellan’s heart at the sound of his endearment. It had been so long since she had heard the word leave his lips, and yet it was the same—soft, full of meaning. She placed one foot in front of the other, taking a tentative step forward, her fingers brushing against the jawbone necklace, grounding her in the reality of the moment. The memory of their love flooded her, the fluttering which overwhelmed her belly when he would call her his heart, mingling with the anger that still smouldered in her chest.

“What have you done, Solas?” Her voice cracked through her cutting words, the accusation spilling through her lips before she could bite her tongue. “You stopped coming to me. You were…tearing the Veil apart, and then Varric—” She swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “You didn’t stop. You hurt him, and now… the false gods are free and ready to destroy this world.”

Her words were sharp, biting, but beneath the anger was the raw, unspoken truth: she loved him. She always had. And seeing her proud, cunning love like this—trapped in the cage of his own creation—cut deeper than any wound she had ever known.

Solas’ eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head bowing beneath the shameful weight of her words. When his eyes found her again, there was a subtle flicker in his gaze—something raw and aching, a depth of emotion she couldn’t quite define. Regret, perhaps, or something far more tangled and broken. 

“It was not supposed to happen this way,” he murmured, voice thin and weary, as if even the admission pained him, the words almost too heavy to continue. “I had a plan. The ritual, I was moving them to another prison. But Varric interfered, he disrupted a dangerous ritual. I did not intend for him to get hurt.”

The flame in Lavellan’s eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as the words tumbled out without a second thought. "Varric was our friend, Solas. You’ve gone too far. He wasn’t aware of your intentions. He tried to stop you, tried to make you see reason, and you—" She faltered, the pain caught in her throat reducing her voice to a weak whisper. 

Though Varric still lived, his fate was uncertain, the magic from the lyrium-infused dagger weaving through his veins unpredictably. Her dear friend had only wanted to help—and yet, he had paid the painful price for it. 

The hardened resolve in Solas’ eyes wavered, his brow furrowing with the slightest shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, the words quiet, but laden with everything left unspoken. 

“That’s all you have to offer? After everything that’s happened? After all this time?” Lavellan’s words sliced through the air, her voice was low yet biting. Her fingers curled in, hands tense at her sides as her frustration simmered just beneath the surface. 

She was torn between the depth of her love and the hot flame of her anger. She had missed him so achingly—every day without him was a quiet torment—but now, seeing him like this, the one she’d loved so fiercely, all she could feel was the cold sting of his absence, the ache of betrayal. He had left her, and worse, he had hurt Varric in his reckless pursuit. 

And now, after everything he had done, he stood there with regret etched into his sharp features, yet offering nothing more than a simple apology. She could see the remorse in his eyes, he meant it, but it wasn’t enough—not after everything. She longed to reach out to him, to close the distance between them, but the wound was too fresh, too raw. How could she bridge the gap when all he had to offer were those meagre words?

“Nothing can change what I have already done,” Solas sighed, the sound long and weary, as though carrying the burden of centuries. 

“I know,” she replied, her voice trembling with the heaviness of her admission. “You can’t undo what’s been done… but you can still do better. You can still choose differently.”

Solas studied her, his expression unreadable for a moment, though the gravity of her words seemed to hang between them. "Better choices do not erase what has already been set in motion," he spoke quietly, his tone almost resigned, as though he carried the inevitability of his fate like a burden.

“So what, you'll just let the world fall apart because it's already in motion? You think destroying this world will somehow lead to salvation?” Lavellan began, her voice cold and cutting. Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching as she took a hard step forward. “The elven people you’re trying to save? There’ll be nothing left for them if you don’t help us stop this madness now.” 

Her words hit him like a sudden gust, rattling the walls he had built around himself. For a moment, his defences collapsed under the truth of her words. But then, almost instinctively, he pulled them back up, his expression hardening as his gaze held hers.

”'Did you come only to scold me, Vhenan? Or is there more you wish to say?”

Lavellan’s breath quickened at his response, the fire in her eyes dimming for just a moment as his question hung in the air. The silence between the two stretched, filled with all the things that had never been said, all the pain, all the longing in their time apart. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, struggling to speak past the heaviness of her own heart. 

"There is plenty I wish to say. But in truth, I came because—" She managed to murmur, the words catching in her throat. Her feet moved before her mind could stop them, stepping slowly towards Solas. "Because I was worried about you. Because I wanted to see you." Her voice was raw, as if speaking the truth aloud burned at her tongue. "Because…even after everything I—"

Solas’ head tilted ever so slightly, his expression softening as his furrowed brows relaxed, and for a fleeting second, something in him seemed to break. The unspoken bond between them, ever-present and undeniable, pulled at him once more. He reached out, almost as if drawn by the force of her words, but stopped himself just short.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him and never let her go again. To let every thought spill from his lips and confess his love for her as if it were the first time. The warmth of her presence was only growing closer as she stepped further in his direction, her beautifully intoxicating scent stirring memories of their past together. He craved her fiercely—the softness of her lips, the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, her lovely voice whispering words of love that echoed in his heart.

But the shrinking space between them felt like a chasm born not only of time, but of all the hurt and chaos he had left in his wake. He didn’t deserve her. Not after his failure. Not after what he had done.  He couldn't bear to drag her into the darkness of his journey, a path that he believed would only lead to death. She deserved so much more than the ruins of his mistakes. 

He imagined the weight of his choices suffocating her, dimming the light that had always drawn him in. Yet as she drew nearer, he could feel the pull of her more acutely, as though the Fade itself conspired to draw them together. The ache of her absence, the torment of his own regret—none of it could dampen the magnetic force that still lingered between them.

"You should hate me," he spoke quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. "After everything I’ve done. All of the pain I have caused."

Lavellan had closed the never-ending distance between them, the air around them thick with an intensity that took her breath away. Her already racing heart quickened, emboldened by a sudden rush, a defiance against the pain that had lingered for far too long. With a trembling hand, she reached for him, her fingertips brushing against his cheek. The connection was electric, sending shivers through her, reigniting a fire that warmed her very core.

In that moment, all his carefully constructed walls began to crumble, melting away beneath her touch. She could see the tension in his shoulders ease, the weight of his regrets momentarily lifting. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, a fragile intimacy that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

It had been years since they last stood face-to-face, their encounters reduced to her lone whispers in her dreams. Each night, she yearned for the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his touch, imagining the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice calling her name. The ache of separation had clawed at her heart, and she knew he had felt it too—a longing that transcended the boundaries of their worlds. 

"I tried," she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion, barely above a whisper. "I tried to hate you, but I can’t, Vhenan. I could never."

Solas’ resolve crumbled even further, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted you to see what I’ve become. I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he pushed further in a weak attempt to suppress the overpowering love that threatened to consume him. 

“I know you cannot change what you have done,” She began through her breath, gently placing her prosthetic hand against his armoured chest and meeting his eyes directly, as though reaching into the depths of his heart. “But I see you, Solas. I see the burden you carry, I’ve seen what you hide in your Lighthouse. It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you.”

Her touch unravelled him completely, cutting through the barriers he had so meticulously built to keep her at a distance and protect her. For all the power that pulsed within him, he was utterly powerless before her. His breath was hitched in his throat, his senses overwhelmed and intoxicated by her nearness. All words escaped him, and instead, he clutched her prosthetic hand to his chest, his knuckles brushing the delicate skin of her cheek, drinking in the moment as if it were the last.

The space between the two vanished, the long-forgotten warmth of each other’s touch easing the ache of a lifetime apart. Starved of the love they had once shared, the air around them grew heavy with anticipation. The energy between them hummed, drawing them closer with each breath, until their eyes flitted shut, surrendering to the inevitable pull of their connection.

“Vhenan…” Solas found his voice once more, before the thread which held him together finally snapped and his lips found hers.

The kiss, at first tentative, quickly deepened as the years of distance, longing, and unspoken words melted between them. It wasn’t gentle; it was desperate, filled with the ache of years apart, with the pain of betrayal and the hope of forgiveness. Lavellan’s hands instinctively reached for him, fingers curling against the cool, textured surface of his armour as if he might slip away again, as if this moment might vanish like a fleeting dream. His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer still, like a drowning man grasping for air.

Solas trembled against her, the control he had so precisely maintained for years finally unravelling in her embrace. Every heartbeat, every breath shared in their kiss spoke of the time they had lost and the memories they had clung to in the dark. 

He clutched at her waist, tugging her impossibly close, as though she might disappear if he allowed any distance open between them. The taste of her lips—familiar and sweet—sent a rush of emotion surging through his mouth and into his heart, blooming with love. It was a taste he had dreamed of, mixed with grief, regret, and the bittersweet recognition of all the time they could never reclaim.

For Lavellan, kissing him felt like breaking the surface after endless years submerged in sorrow. She had imagined this reunion, longed for it in her loneliest moments, but nothing could have prepared her for the rawness of it now, the intensity of feeling his warmth, his breath, after so long. Her lips moved fervently against his, as if she could anchor them both in the present, as if this kiss could hold them together while the world threatened to crumble around them.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as their spirits reached for one another, desperate to bridge the chasm of all that had been lost. The air around them shimmered with the intensity of their emotions, the soft crackle of magic lingering like static electricity. Tears mingled between their lips, and Lavellan found herself unsure if they were born from her own heartache or Solas’ sorrow. 

When at last they reluctantly parted, it was only enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. The warmth of Solas’ skin contrasted with the coolness of the Fade around them. His fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear, his eyes searching hers with a mix of reverence and sorrow, as if committing her face to memory all over again.

“I have missed you,” Solas admitted through a trembling breath, his voice fraying at the edges, each syllable thick with longing and vulnerability. “Every moment, I have missed you.”

Lavellan’s heart stilled at his confession, the pain she’d carried for so long softening, giving way to a quiet joy she had scarcely dared to feel. It was real—his yearning, his regret. He had missed her, and in hearing those words, a wave of warmth rushed through her, filling the hollow space his absence had left behind, like sunlight breaking through a dark, heavy cloud.

“As have I,” she whispered, her voice a breath, an ache. “I love you, Solas.”

The distance between them vanished once more as she closed the space with her lips. An electric tangle of desperation and love crackled in the air, as if they could pour every stolen moment of the past ten years into this one kiss. She breathed the words against his lips— Ar lath ma. I love you, I love you, over and over, with each fleeting pause for air. One hand gripped his broad shoulder as though holding onto the thread of the life they might still have together, while the other skimmed gingerly across his sharp jaw, the cool metal of her fingertips shooting a shiver down his spine.

As their lips moved together, she tasted the faint remnants of the Fade on him—like the bittersweet tang of twilight and the warmth of embers long extinguished. The air was thick with unspoken promises, Solas’ scent enveloping her, an earthy blend of ancient forests, fragrant herbs, and a whisper of magic that felt both familiar and achingly distant. Her heart raced, a wild drum echoing in her ears, as she felt the world around them fade into insignificance. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, entwined in a dance of love and longing, the taste of their shared past lingering sweetly on their tongues.

Solas drew a tight breath, his lips forming the words in return, “Ar lath ma, I love you,” each confession fragile and tender, as if speaking it aloud made the moment more real. His hands cupped her face with reverence, fingers tracing the contours of her skin as if rediscovering her all over again, as though he needed to believe this wasn’t some fading dream. She was truly here with him, loving him still, despite all that had come between them. And with each kiss, each murmured promise of love, he felt the final crumbling of the walls he had built to protect himself from this—this undeniable truth that she saw him, truly, as he was: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. And still, she chose him—Solas.

Warm, fresh tears streamed down his cheeks—tears of relief, not of sorrow, and for the first time in an age, he felt lighter, the burden of millennia softening in her embrace. 

Lavellan’s fingers traced the familiar lines of his face, feeling the tension in his jaw slowly release. She caught her breath, pressing her forehead gently to his once more, letting the moment wrap around them like a fragile cocoon, holding them together.

They no longer needed words. There was no need for promises, no talk of what came next.

For now, they were simply here—together.

Solas’ hands held her tightly against him, as if memorising every curve of her, grounding himself in her presence, in the warmth of her body pressed to his. He drank in every bit of her, enraptured by the way her eyes sparkled with the tears she had shed. There was no one more beautiful, in body and spirit.

The world beyond them faded into the abyss—no ancient gods, no torn Veil, no crumbling ruins. Just the rhythmic sound of their breaths mingling between them, the quiet beat of their hearts within their chests, steady and sure. For so long, he had dreamed of this, and yet the reality of it was more than he could have ever imagined.

Lavellan clutched him closer, as if to say all the things she couldn’t form with her lips, as if to tell him that here, in this moment, she chose him—not Fen’Harel, not the Dread Wolf. Just Solas.

And as they stayed there, lost in each other, neither knew how long the moment would last—only that, for now, it was enough.

[reccyls]

Don't Look at Anything Except for Me (Victor story)

My translation of Victor's story for this collection event

---

Standing in the otherwise empty lounge was a tall box with a handle.

(It looks big enough to fit an entire person inside. I wonder what it's for.)

Just as I was going to open it...

Victor: Looks like you found it.

Surprised, I let go of the handle, and and approached the wryly smiling Victor.

Kate: What's this for?

Victor: A prop for my next magic trick!

He enthusiastically pulled open the box, revealing nothing inside. Just darkness.

Kate: It looks like just a normal box to me... What kind of magic trick can you do with this?

Victor: I'm very glad you asked! A trick where you can escape after being shut within a perfectly ordinary box.

Kate: Ooh, I've seen a magic trick like that before!

Victor: Since Vogel has arrived, I've been thinking about welcoming them with a little magic show. Victor: And I might as well take the chance to add a new trick to my repertoire.

Kate: Vogel did say that they want to build a closer relationship with us. Kate: I should also be talking more to the three of them!

(I am concerned about Harrison's warning, but it's important to know people, too.)

I suddenly realized Victor was staring at me...

Kate: What's wrong?

Victor: You're very kind. Always extending grace to anyone you meet, no matter who they may be. Victor: But... I want you to know more about Crown, as well.

Victor turned his gaze downwards, and his shoulders fell slightly. He looked lonely.

Victor: And of course, more about me, as well.

He gave me a playful wink, as if to say not to mind what he just said.

Victor: And now, to make sure I don't lose your attention, allow me to monopolize your time! Victor: I've never done this trick before, so I'd like your help to practice. How does that sound?

Ecstatic that he wanted to practice with me, I nodded vigorously.

Kate: Absolutely!

I stepped into the box, finding it wide enough to fit me comfortably.

Victor: There's a switch on the inside. If you flip it, the back panel should slide out so you can escape.

But inside the box, I couldn't find the switch.

Victor: The manual said it should be in there. Let me see...

Victor stepped forward, half his body leaning into the box. I watched him intently search for the switch, and then-

Kate: Ah, is that it?

Victor: ! Yes, that's the one!

Finding the slight knob, Victor met my eyes and smiled as he pushed it. And just then--

Victor: Eh?

Kate: Aah!

The door slammed shut, and trapped the two of us inside the box.

Victor: That was a shock... Kate, are you all right?

Kate: Yes, I'm fine...

(What do we do? He's way too close...!)

Our bodies were so close that I could hear the sound of his breathing clear as day. He had his hands pressed up against the back wall, so there was a bit of a gap. Perhaps it was due to the darkness, but I felt as though any slight movement in any direction would lead to us being pressed flush against one another.

Kate: Y-you know how to escape from the inside, right?

I tried to hide my nervousness with a question.

Victor: .......Unfortunately, I don't.

His answer was exactly what I didn't want to hear.

Victor: I thought that switch was supposed to be for that exact purpose. Victor: We may have no other choice but to wait until someone lets us out.

Kate: No way...

(Maybe if we press that switch again?)

Kate: Let's try pressing the switch again! I'm pretty sure it was somewhere around here...

Victor: Ahhh!

My finger poked into Victor's side, and he let out a yelp I'd never heard from him before.

Kate: S-sorry!

Victor: It's fine. I was just surprised, that's all.

Perhaps the cramped conditions were getting to be a bit too much for Victor, because he bent an arm. I stifled a gasp at how close we had become. A lock of his silky hair brushed across my cheek. His voice carried the soft texture of a cool night's air. For some reason, my face felt hot where his hair had fallen across it.

(If we don't get out right now... My heart isn't going to be able to take any more of this.)

I ran my hand along the wall again, in the hopes that I'd find something that could hasten our escape by even a single second.

Victor: Kate?

Kate: Maybe I can find the switch by touch.

Victor: That's a good idea, I'll try too-- !!

Kate: Ack!

Because of our movements, the box began to wobble, throwing me off balance. In a panic, I tried to stand, but only ended up with my legs around Victor's, almost as if straddling him.

Victor: Sorry for this. I'm going to try to get us out of here, but I'll need to move a little.

Kate: W-wait a second-- mm....

I tried to scramble for a better position, but there wasn't any space inside the cramped box. Victor's knee pressed between between my legs, digging right into where I was most sensitive...

(Oh no, I can feel my body start to respond--)

My toes curled as Victor's movements caushed his knee to continue to rub in between my legs. I gripped his shirt, trying to endure the sensations.

Kate: It's fine. Please stop moving.

Victor: !

I heard his breath catch, before his knee pushed me back.

Victor: ...I'm sorry.

As I looked up, there was an apologetic expression on his face. And then with a crash and a hard impact, throwing my face upwards. My lips brushed right against the mole at his lips.

Kate: --The door's open...?

Beyond Victor, I could see the familiar sights of the castle's lounge. Unsteadily, I made my way out of the box and collapsed on the spot out of pure relief.

Victor: Are you hurt?

I looked up at Victor's worried expression, his hand extended to me to help me up.

(Right at the very end, I almost kissed Victor...)

Embarrassed and uncomfortable, I couldn't meet his eyes as I took his hand.

Kate: ...I'm okay.

Victor: If we'd been stuck in there any longer, my heart might have exploded.

His tone was light as he turned to look back at the box. That was when I noticed.

(Huh...?)

Amidst his flowing black hair, his ears had turned faintly red.

(Maybe I'm wrong? But, if he realized what happened too...)

Victor: Kate?

The voice that called my name carried just a hint of seductiveness. And I could feel the heat we shared while trapped in the box stlil lingering.

[rieamena]

Heyhey! Can you do Billy x Reader, where reader is mostly confused (not sad or any sad emotions, just. confused) as to why Billy would like them despite looking NOTHING like his crush Monica (I think shes blonde with giant boobs which ok, I get you Billy) personally or physique wise.

(I also wanna make reader a badass sniper kiss kiss)

rooftop—

you sat on the edge of roof an abandoned building, your rifle propped up on the nearby concrete. your eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of movement, but your mind was preoccupied with a different kind of target—billy kid

billy had been acting strange around you lately, and it was starting to make you wonder. he had always been so vocal about his crush on monica, the blonde bombshell with the perfect figure. you were nothing like her—physique and personality-wise. you were a sniper, not some glamorous model

billy clambered up the fire escape, nearly tripping over his own feet. "whoa! that was close," he laughed, holding up a bag of your favorite snacks. "hey! thought i'd bring you some sustenance for your sniper duties."

you couldn't help but smile. "thanks, billy," you said, accepting the snacks. your legs kicked back and forth as you looked back at the sky. "but i've been meaning to ask… why are you spending so much time with me? i mean, monica…"

billy tilted his head, taking a seat next to you. "what about monica?"

"you had—no have—such a big crush on her," you pointed out, trying to keep your tone casual. "she's everything i'm not."

billy put on an exaggerated thoughtful pose, tapping his chin. "hmm, yes, monica. the blonde goddess with the… uh, giant… personality."

stifling a laugh, you rummaged through the bag, pulling out and opening some chips. "exactly. so why me?"

billy leaned in closer, practically forcing you to look at him, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "you think i like you any less just because you're not monica?"

you shrugged, finding it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. "i guess i just don't get it. why me?"

billy's eyes turned into little hearts. "you, my love, are a badass sniper. you can take down targets from miles away, you’re smart, brave, and you always have my back. plus, have you seen yourself in action? you're like a real-life action hero! my personal starlight knight!"

billy squirmed and squealed in his place as he thought of the many times he was blessed to see you on duty

you blinked once twice a third time, processing his words. "so… you like me because i'm… me?"

"exactly!" billy said, getting up from his seat. your head followed him as he stood on the concrete floor. "besides, monica may be pretty, but she can’t do this." he attempted a clumsy cartwheel and ended up in a heap on the ground, his electronic insides swelling as he heard your laugh—the one he loves so much. "see? definitely not as cool as you."

you walked over to him, offering your hand. "i guess i never thought of it that way."

he paused for half a second, wishing to soak in the sight of you beautifully sunkissed for a bit longer. snapping out of it, albeit reluctantly, billy took your hand, springing to his feet soon after, brushing himself off. "w-well, now you know. and for the record, you're way more interesting than monica. also, you have way better taste in snacks."

you shook your head, smiling softly. "thanks, billy. that means a lot."

"anytime," billy replied, his eyes twinkling with playful delight. "now, how about you finish this mission and let's grab some ice cream afterwards? my treat, if i have money... and maybe after you can show me how to do a proper cartwheel!"

"you're on," you said, grabbing your sniper, feeling more confident than ever

this req ATE

billy kid taglist

@pedrosimp137 @mary-moongood @linx-nyx @lemonboy011 @eisblume77

@amaryllisenvy @megan017 @astral-spacepumpkin @corrupted-tale @inkycap

@thurstonw @plapsha @lavenderthewolf @kurakusun @miymiymiy

@sweetadonisbutbetter @cobraaah @mochiitoby @clickingchip @bardivislak

@h3r6c00k13 @cozi-cofee @apestegui-y @luvuyuuji @theitdoitnobody

@fersitaam @cathrnxxo @monkepawbz @fl1ghtl3ssdrag0n @dabislilbaby

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally works up the courage to talk to you again and he's not disappointed.

Part 1

"I'm sorry, I won't." You repeated for about the hundredth time as you placed some brushes in a jar and then on a shelf.

The lesson had been over for a few minutes and your classmates were getting ready to finally leave.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he washed his hands at the sink located in the corner of the art classroom, watching the water wash the red paint off his hands, coloring the liquid as it descended.

It almost looked like blood.

"Your parents won't be home for two days. Two fucking days, Y/N. And you don't want to have a party?" He turned to you with his usual smile he used when trying to get someone to do what he wanted.

It was not going to work with you.

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not really one for parties." You shrugged.

Aaron had spent all of class trying to get you to throw a party on Saturday night since your parents were away for the weekend, your house was big, and you had a pool.

Aaron insisted. "But it will be fun. We can invite your friends, Jason and his team and-"

"Aaron, c'mon. Even if I had this stupid party, I wouldn't invite those people."

They were the last people you wanted to see at school, let alone invite them to a party.

"What's wrong with Jason? He's been one of the first people I've talked to since I moved here, besides you, and he's a really cool guy."

You liked Aaron, you had met him a week ago when he asked if you knew where the art class was and you had accompanied him, saying you were going there too, but sometimes he would say things that would skyrocket your want to slap him.

Over the next few days you'd gotten closer and closer and you'd noticed how most of the girls – and even some of the boys – watched Aaron at school.

He was new and that equaled interesting, he was blond and green-eyed, which for many cheerleaders equaled cute.

You also suspected that many of them were jealous that he was spending so much time with you instead of them.

Anyway, you didn't like him that way, of course you had to admit that he respected the canons of beauty to which people paid attention, but there were things more important than how symmetrical someone's face was.

"Cool? Do you want me to make you a list of all the reasons why I don't like that asshoke? He's selfish, obnoxious, vain, a bully....should I go on?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Nah, I'd like to listen to all your reasons but I have to go, honey. I'm going out with Jason and his friends later." He said running his fingers through his blond curls.

You raised your eyebrows, still hoping you misunderstood what he said.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I told you, they're cool guys."

"Like a stick up your ass."

Aaron burst out laughing. "Y/N, c'mon!"

"What? It's true!"

Aaron shook his head before grabbing his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled at you as he usually did, showing his perfect white teeth and rested a hand on your arm for a few seconds.

His smile was sometimes frighteningly reminiscent of Billy Hargrove's.

One thing you couldn't stand was the way he was always touching you. One arm around your shoulders, one hand on yours or your arm.

It always seemed like something too intimate, like the way he called you "honey" all the time, but you thought maybe it was your problem.

"Yeah, bye." You placed the last rags covered in color stains in their appropriate drawer.

"And think about the party!" He yelled before walking out the door, leaving you alone in the classroom.

"I won't!"

Eddie lingered in front of art class, watching some students leave after the last bell of the day rang and wondering why he suddenly had no idea how to start a conversation.

The last one to leave the class was the boy he had seen you with the day before, the one Dustin said was Aaron and that he wasn't your boyfriend.

As he walked out of the classroom, his gaze briefly met Eddie's, who was leaning back against the wall thinking about what he could do or what he could talk about with you.

And that look, it was definitely not the look of the nice guy next door who brings you cake as soon as he moves next to your house and offers to mow your lawn.

It was Jason's same look, it was the look of everyone who looked at Eddie as if he were trash.

It was the look of everyone who was sure Eddie was the leader of a satanic cult that no one would want anything to do with.

It was the same look as everyone who referred to him as a "freak."

Just the thought of you spending your time with that guy made Eddie think he had no chance with you and that he'd better go home and try to get over you. As if it was possible.

Suddenly, Eddie found himself alone in the hallway and for a moment he thought that you too had left the classroom and that he, too immersed in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed.

But no, it wasn't possible, he always noticed you.

He reached the threshold of the door and finally saw you, intent on moving a canvas in the corner of the room, on your hands there were still some traces of color that not even the water had managed to sweep away.

"Need a hand?" Eddie asked, surprising even himself.

You whirled on him, probably startled by the sudden voice but when you saw him, you smiled and Eddie almost forgot how to breathe.

"No, it's okay. I'm done. What are you doing here?" You asked as you grabbed a book off a table and stuffed it into your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards him.

What was he doing there?

He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh and talk to you about any topic that crossed your mind because he was undoubtedly in love with you but too cowardly to tell you.

"Henderson told me you were here and I thought I'd come by and say hi."

He hoped it didn't sound stupid.

"Well, hi." You laughed as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you.

Eddie watched you take a few steps ahead of you in the hallway before you turned to him.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." He hastened to catch up with you.

"Today I'm walking home. This morning I woke up earlier than usual and it was sunny so I didn't use my car. Would you like to... walk me home?"

Eddie glanced at you to meet your sincere, hopeful expression.

"I don't live very far from here, don't worry." You added.

"Yeah, yes. Of course." He answered quickly, already kicking himself for letting you think that he didn’t want to go with you. He would have wanted even if you lived on the other side of the world.

You felt good spending time with Eddie.

You didn't quite know what it was but you felt the same sensation you felt when you sat in front of a fireplace in winter with a blanket on your legs and a book in your hands.

It was a feeling of calm and tranquility. You felt like you were really being listened to when you talked about the things you liked, that you weren't judged and you simply felt safe when you were with him.

It wasn't the same feeling you had when you were with Aaron. It was not even close.

Before you rounded the corner in the hallway, Eddie heard voices talking to each other.

"Wait, um-" Eddie didn't know how to say it. "There's  someone. It's okay if you don't want to be seen with me."

It was like a reflex, a habit. No one wanted to be seen with him other than the Hellfire kids and his friends in his band.

His words hit you like a knife and your heart started bleeding for that sweet boy you barely knew.

All those years he'd spent being treated like he didn't deserve to, like no one would ever deserve, like a freak, had made him think that no one would want to be seen even to talk to him.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair for all of Hawkings to judge a person they didn't even know for who he really were.

"It's okay, Eddie." You you reassured him as you rounded the corner, finding two cheerleaders talking to each other.

And Eddie, hearing your simple words, for a moment really thought that everything was okay. That there was no social barrier to divide you, that you were really friends and that he had the possibility to become something more for you one day.

He also liked the way his name sounded when you said it.

As you walked down the hallway, Eddie suddenly felt your fingers brush his and when he realized it wasn't by mistake, your hand had already met his and you intertwined your fingers with his.

Strangely, Eddie didn't catch his breath or start sweating like he did whenever you were even near him.

He wasn't even nervous anymore. But he smiled.

He felt as if someone had lifted a weight off his chest and now he could breathe easier, as if with your hand in his everything could really be fine.

When you passed the cheerleaders your hand was still holding his, stready, secure, not letting go.

When you got out of school you kept talking all the way home and every time Eddie heard the sound of your laugh he wished he could record it so he could listen to it whenever he wanted as if it was his favorite song.

You only let go of his hand when you arrived in front of your house.

"And then I told my uncle that I'd found a job, but I actually sat on the sidewalk every day downtown and played my guitar with a hat on the ground hoping someone would leave me a dollar." Eddie finished, noting that he was talking to you about personal facts that few other people knew about.

"If I had known, I would have come and left you a few bucks, you know." You commented.

"I was twelve, Y/N. So you were ten. I don't think you had much money to waste at that time." He laughed.

"When I was a kid I had ice cream almost every day. I could have given you my ice cream money."

Eddie smiled. "Would you have given up your daily ice cream for me?"

"For you, that and more" You chuckled as you opened the gate to your house. "Thanks for walking me home." You added.

"Anytime, I like hanging out with you." Eddie still didn't understand where he had found all that courage.

One corner of your mouth curled up. "I like it too."

"See you at school, then?" He asked.

"See you at school, Eddie." You repead before disappearing behind the door of your house.

He stood there for a few more moments, even getting a glare from your neighbor watering the flowers in her garden.

When he said 1986 was going to be his year, maybe he'd been right.

Part 3

I thought I'd write a part 2 and stop but... I kinda like this. Maybe a little series will come out of this?

Who asked to be tagged in the second part will also be tagged in all the other parts so if you want to be removed, let me know <3

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee

[thewertsearch]

....well, I thought this fight was a lock in Vriska's favor, but Gamzee is the mother of all wildcards. He could be hiding anything in that Jokerkind Abstratus, and we still haven't seen the power that took out the Black King.

I do think Vriska has the maneuverability to avoid most of his weapons, but you don't know what this motherfucker is going to pull out. His mere presence is setting me on edge a little.

If only my hoard were as 8ottomless as his desire to disappoint me. He is set on cowardice, deferring to others to settle his score. Doesn't he remem8er what he's confided? It would 8e easy to give the evidence to Her Imperious Condescension, and he would 8e killed quickly for his unthinka8le presumption. He's taken a gr8 risk har8oring red am8itions for an empress who will never even know his name.

Eridan's ancestor has a thing for the Empress, which is a clear allusion to his one-sided crush on Feferi. I'd be surprised if any troll from Mindfang's story wasn't one of the twelve Ancestors, so I'm pretty sure Her Condescension is Grandma Peixes.

And I recognize that name.

Now - is it just a title, or was this literally the same Condescension?

I'm inclined to assume the former, because the modern Empress doesn't share Feferi's blood color. Still, the idea of a troll ancestor sticking around to personally witness the apocalypse they foresaw is a pretty cool idea.

Here's proto-Gamzee, clearly embodying the violent madness that his descendant has recently embraced. This juggalo cult has clearly been a problem on Alternia for a long time.

There's blood behind him that matches Karkat's non-mutated position on the hemospectrum - and also, I think, blood of Eridan's caste. This guy doesn't discriminate. He's perfectly comfortable with slaughtering his 'betters', and I'm sure Gamzee's just itching to repeat this history today.

I've learned Dualscar has reported to the Grand High8lood all the intelligence he has on me and my fleet.

Gamzee's ancestor is the Grand Highblood. It sounds like he's at the very top of the terrestrial hemospectrum, outranking even other members of his caste.

Equius did say that Gamzee had the highest terrestrial blood on Alternia. Zahhak's a hemospectrum expert, so maybe he's being entirely literal. Maybe Gamzee has inherited his ancestor's title, and is literally the Grand Highblood of Alternia - the highest purpleblood of all.

If he does have a formal role, he was obviously shirking his duties, if he was even aware of them in the first place. His hive certainly wasn't especially regal...

I wonder, though... did this ancestor leave any heirlooms for his successor? How much does Gamzee really know about his birthright?

I would have enjoyed witnessing the entertainment he prepared to please the High8lood. His sense of humor was dreadful. It would have 8een a true miracle if he survived the appointment. Funny, I always imagined a grander entry in my journal for your demise, Dualscar. 8ut I should have realized you would die as you lived. A joke.

L

[sinsmockingbird]

Aight, dis the (F!)MC family with (Yandere!)Yukong request (more like a ramble I guess which you can feel free to adapt to a request/fic as you want) :3

What do you think their children would look like? They'd probably have floofy hairs/tails like Yukong (Foxian/Kitsune genetics I've always thought are probs very strong), and they'd probably grow up very spoiled, by Qingni, who'd I'd imagine would be a great older sister, and by the Astral Express whenever they visit.

I can't help but feel like there'd be some friction there between Yukong and the crew, since the crew might feel something is off about Yukong being overly protective, alongside with Stelle's sudden decision to stay on the Luofu, and Yukong is afraid they might try to take Stelle with them.

I also wonder how Qingni would react to the whole situation in the first place. While she'd probably be very happy to see her mother happy, and to have younger siblings, she might also find Stelle's sudden decision to stay a bit weird (not that'd she'd comment on it).

If Stelle and Qingni grow close during Stelle's stay on the Luofu, I could totally see Yukong using that to further try to convince Stelle to stay, pointing out how they make such a lovely family the three of them together. Something along the lines of, It'd be a shame to throw it all away to go explore, and maybe never get to come back to see them. Who knows, maybe we could give Qingni some younger siblings? She did always want some as a child. Surely it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you somehow ended up pregnant, right?

Sorry for the mess of ideas that this was oeidfvgjherhfgu I had a lot of thoughts after the fic that you made (which I may or may not have read lots of times already). Please feel free to only adapt parts of it/segment it, I can always send other requests in the future with the other sections if they don't mesh well together/get too long if you don't mind.

"PROTECTING" PT.2 | Yukong

PAIRING: Yukong x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Slight NSFW, Yandere!Yukong, Manipulation, Alludes to smut & breeding.

AUTHORS NOTE: I love these little rambles and ideas. I tried to include as many of these as possible, and I'd love to hear any more ideas you have!

WHEN YOUR daughter was first born, she was a perfect mix of you and Yukong, with a fluffy tail and ears being the prominent foxian genes in her. She was immediately spoiled and loved by not only you two but the Astral Express as well. She was quickly welcomed into the family, dotted on by someone almost 24/7.

Welt was quickly deemed her Godfather, and was seen as her grandpa considering the fatherly relationship he had with you. Himeko was her Godmother, and she honestly almost cried when you asked her if she'd like to.

Dan Heng was surprisingly protective over her, despite not really knowing... how to treat her, yet he wouldn't dare let someone harm her, like a protective older brother. March 7th was, as expected, absolutely in love with her, declaring her the cool aunt who buys her so much toys, stuffies, clothes- you name it, March will get it.

Qingni was... interesting. She absolutely loved her little sister when she was born, always quick to care and play with her when she got the chance. She'd do anything for her, spoiling her with all sorts of things just like March.

Yet, despite being happy to have a little sister, Qingni couldn't help the weird feeling she had in her chest. Your sudden decision to stay on the Luofu was certainly... sudden, to say the least, and especially how quickly your relationship with her mother grew. While she was happy for Yukong to have found someone to love, she just found it all weird, but she didn't comment on anything, rather just enjoying the fact she has a younger sibling.

Plus, Qingni found herself getting close to you as well. She was really beginning to see you as another mother, despite not calling you mom yet. Which you didn't mind, you were simply happy to have a good relationship with her.

"You and Qingni seem to be getting along fine." Yukong mused as she moved to hug you from behind, nuzzling her face into your neck.

You laugh softly at her affectionate actions, watching as Qingni entertained her baby sister. "I'd like to think so."

"Trust me, she likes you." Yukong reassured, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple before laying her head on your shoulder. "We make quite a lovely family, don't we? Us four."

You thought for a moment, watching as Qingni stopped her sister from chewing on her tail. "Yeah... yeah we do."

Yukong lifted her head, eyeing you for a moment, seeing the way your eyebrows were furrowed together, sensing that something wasn't right. "Is there something wrong, my love?"

"Hm?" You look at her, before quickly shaking your head, then pausing as you thought for a moment. "Nothings wrong, perse... sorry, I'm just having thoughts about missing the Astral Express."

That made worry strike Yukong like a strike of lightning hitting a tree. It wasn't uncommon for you to find yourself having thoughts of the Astral Express crew as well as missing that adventure with them. It scared the old foxian like no other, because she's tried everything to get you to stay here on the Xianzhou with her.

Her ears pulled back against her head, tail swishing back and forth more behind her. She held a hard look on her face when you looked back to gaze at your daughter and Qingni, and Yukong realized what she had to do again to ensure you would stay here with her.

You let out a sudden gasp as you felt Yukong press her front flush against your back, pressing you against the counter you were both standing behind. You quickly gripped the edge of it, eyes widening and face flushing as you felt her press her face into your neck, inhaling your scent while kissing and nipping at your skin.

"Y-Yukong, the girls!" You quickly whispered it with panic, eyes wide as you watched your guys daughters, praying they didn't look over to see one of their mothers pressed so intimately against the other.

"We're fine, they're too distracted by one another," Yukong reassured, her voice low and sultry as she kissed your neck more.

You whimpered softly, before biting your lip to hold back your sounds, not wanting to alert Qingni. You bowed your head slightly, breathing heavy as you felt Yukong grinding her hips against you from behind, letting you feel her growing bulge under her clothes. Her sudden need for you caught you off guard, but you definitely weren't complaining.

"My love, let's go to our room. The girls will be alright by themselves for an hour or so," Yukong murmured, moving to suck on your ear lobe, nibbling on it and making your face flush more.

"J-Just an hour..?" You ask, tilting your head slightly back towards her.

"Just an hour," Yukong repeated, but she had other plans. She was going to keep you locked in your room for however long she wanted, thoroughly breeding you again.

Because there's no way you'd leave the Xianzhou, leave her, if you have a second, maybe third or forth child, right? You wouldn't dare do that to her.

She was going to make sure you'd never leaver.

ENDING NOTES: Sorry this is short! I wanted to keep this part mostly SFW. But I'll maybe do a part 3 if it's asked for.

[olderthannetfic]

I don't get my fandom. They want more queer rep. The main cast is a bisexual femme woman with a preference for women, an aroace gender-indifferent AMAB man, a genderfluid all-pronouns using AMAB person with a beard who wears a dress, and a biromantic asexual bigender AMAB man who is agender + male. The supporting cast has a lesbian girl, a middle-aged ace het woman living semi-romantically with another woman who is the main cast's (emotional) adoptive mom, and a ambiguously queer character whose gender is never really confirmed or discussed.

A big criticism I also see is "the writing team is all cishet". One, we don't know that, someone could be closeted. Two, why is that a problem? I think it's great that they went, "this makes sense for who this character is. We don't have to force them to be cishetallo just because that's what you normally see in animation. Web animation can be different. This is who this person is and that's fine."

I'm 19. I talked to my half brother, who is 38, about this and he actually choked on his coffee. He said when he was my age, nothing like this was easily accessible for him. It would have been jaw-dropping representation for him. I asked about the writers being cishetallo and he said, "who fucking cares? I would've moved Heaven and Earth to see these characters hanging out and just fucking existing back then!"

I know you get a metric fuckton of asks, but I'd love to hear your take on this. You've been in the queer community way longer than I have (I've barely started interacting with queer people IRL; I grew up in rural Wyoming) and I do wonder what this debacle looks like to people in other age groups. I'd also be curious to know what older people would've thought if they'd seen this friend group in media when they were younger. I know it means a lot to me. But I feel like I don't get what it would have meant back then.

--

Well, written up like this, it might get an eye-roll for sounding like Captain Planet casting. (You know "One of A and one of B and one of C" in a way that feels kind of forced.)

But yes, I think most older queer people when looking at the actual canon would be like "Sweet! A cast full of queer characters!"

I grew up somewhere shockingly liberal for the 90s next door to some old, married lesbians (who still live there, as it happens). It still sucked for teenagers. I had an okay time, but I was always hearing about other teens having an awful time even as the adults in the same communities did okay. And that's a very, very good version of what it was like in the 90s.

I did have access to queer media, vastly more access than most teens had. It was still mostly art films, boring coming out memoir, and The Pain of Being a Minority serious literature. What I wanted was genre fiction with a romance b-plot between queer characters I found hot. There was a bit of that, but not much.

I don't know that I personally would have killed for the exact set of queer rep in a modern show, but that makes sense. There are plenty of identities that present about the same but where people have internal reasons for choosing one or another. There are different forces making one queer identity or another more embattled at a given point in time. So while broadly similar queer people have always existed, there actually are fads in identity to an extent. (This is different from "wharrgarbl, the blue hairs with their pronouns!!!", which is just people being ahistorical assholes.) Modern media does and should reflect these differences. It might be for me, but it's going to be for 40-something me, not teenage me if it's coming out right now. If it's for current teens, it's not for teen me.

But yeah, in a general sense, I agree with your brother: "Damn, we have so much today! That's cool!"

The kvetching is usually people being angry that it's not representing their exact slice of queerness instead of someone else's. Or, let's be honest, a lot of it is "You didn't make my ship happen! How dare?!" dressed up as activism.

...

One thing I will say is that teenagers were extremely dramatic in my day too, and black-and-white thinking was just as common. Looking a gift horse in the mouth is not new. Yes, your fandom is full of idiots, but I wouldn't read too much into it.

[thefandomenchantress]

Chapter 2 Episode 15 Spoilers below!

Since Ace being the culprit has brought about so much pain to ace lovers, including me, I figured I'd make a list of all the good things that him being the culprit brings to us. Even though Ace will (probably) be executed next episode, that doesn't mean that nothing good came out of this, right?

-Ace's backstory may be revealed much sooner than expected! Before we would've had to wait for chapter 3 or chapter 4 and so on, but since Ace will be gone soon, almost everything not revealed next episode will get told to us in a bonus episode! (I think every dead person gets one of those? Idk if that's officially confirmed). I doubt Teruko's gonna find, like, Ace's diary in chapter three detailing his life story, so if we're ever getting the Taylor Lore™, it'll be in a bonus episode! Plus, a bonus episode would come out a lot faster than the whole of chapter three, so more Ace content sooner no matter what happens in it! And there's always the chance he gets picked for an FTE, since dead people are on the list of options.

-Ace canonically has neat, fancy handwriting. Begone rumors of Ace having illegible, traditionally boy-ish handwriting, he actually writes like a 19th century scholar and I find this very funny. More evidence for my 'Ace likes reading and writing and wanted to become a romance author' crack theory, since he also reenforced his particularness about vocabulary in chapter 2 part 2. (Our only remaining question: Does Ace actually have terrible spelling ('responsibel'), or did he just think Eden would?)

-Ace is very good at being sneaky and often overhears things he shouldn't. I can't wait for this to be used as a plot device in numerous fics ("XANDER YOU'LL NEVER GUESS THE SHIT I JUST HEARD DAVID SAY ABOUT YOU WHEN HE THOUGHT HE WAS ALONE").

-Ace will have to be included in the dead (formerly a) trio posts forevermore. Get ready for Xander-Min-Arei-Ace shenanigans.

-Now that the cast has been forced to acknowledge that being dumb and angry aren't Ace's only traits and that he's just as human as the rest of them, Ace is much less likely to be seen as just those two things by the average viewer. Ace's popularity, or at least the amount of dislike towards him, seems to have shifted since the last episode, and I'm happy more people are able to enjoy what his character has to offer now. He's a cool little guy. I've literally NEVER seen the Ace Markey tag this busy before.

-We got so many cool Ace CGs guys. SO MANY. Including one where he's hanging upside down on the swing set and looks weirdly cute for someone in the middle of a murder plan.

-Also new sprites! The DRDTdev gave Ace a redesign knowing full-well that it would only get a singular chapter of use, and I massively respect that. We already got some new sprites in part 2 of chapter 2 so far, and I'm guessing next episode he'll probably have at least one more breakdown sprite before he dies.

-For someone who no one in the cast liked, he's definitely going to leave an impact. He's finally made at least some of the cast realize what happens when they ignore the issues right in front of them. Ace shouts about how everyone hates him and sees him as an insufferable idiot? Eh, probably nothing, we don't have to worry about that. Sure, multiple people told him he's gonna die next in here, and he almost got murdered, but that won't amount to anything. What's he gonna do, murder someone--WAIT SHIT Ace step away from the Arei I repeat step away from the Arei-- (plus Teruko parallels). I'll probably go more in-depth about this sort of thing in a different post.

-WE NEVER GOT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER HIS GLOVES. Kyoko and Mukuro both had hand-related secrets that connected them to the plot later on, does that mean Ace will have some sort of relevance to the mastermind or overall lore later on? Like a Mai tattoo situation? (Or maybe it's another thing that may be alluded to or discussed in the bonus episode)(Or left to interpretation but I hope not because I have so many theories).

If you have any more suggestions for other good Ace-related things the culprit reveal brought us, let me know and I can add them to the list! We need as many good things as we can think of right now...

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT Day 1: First Pages

I was told I should write down my experiences in this journal. I'm only really doing this because I was told I didn't have to share my writings with anyone except for emergencies, whatever that means. Today is the first day of my new life, and becoming something not human anymore.

I've seen a lot of social media about species HRT. I think it’s supposed to be “Human Removal Therapy”. There’s a lot of people online bashing it, and I'm sure someone is going to try and ban it eventually, but for right now it's pretty unrestricted. To be honest, I am fascinated by it. Becoming something inhuman seemed so, I don't know, cool I guess, but it felt distant, like it would never happen to me, or I'd be labeled a freak by my friends. It was only until my girlfriend brought it up in a passing conversation that I gained the courage to admit I was curious about it. She said I should go for it. The amount of joy I felt then and there was like a 20 ton weight had just exploded out of my chest, but in a good way! We spent the rest of the night talking about treatments and articles, I never felt so happy except then and there, to be seen like that.

My legs were shaking when I met with that doctor. I was told it was normal to be nervous, but it really felt like I was going to just have a breakdown the entire time we talked. There was a lot of psychological exams and way, WAY too much paperwork that basically said I was sure I would be happy and cool with going through with this process. The doctor was patient at least, though he was rude with how little he tried to hide the boredom of his job. Besides that, there was something about him that just made him feel like this was the last thing he wanted to do, the kind of man who’s a total pushover. We eventually got to the question I was dreading “what was I here for, what am I looking to be?” My voice just suddenly stop working right there. It's so funny how I saw an actual dragon on my way here and somehow my request seemed so much more ridiculous. That stupid doctor kept prying me to just tell him until my frustration surpassed my anxiety, and I was able to blurt out that I wanted to be a slime.

I don't know when or why, but I've always liked the idea of slimes. It's their fluidity I think. Being able to morph myself the way I want whenever I want. I mean, how can I trust I'll be happy with my body shape everyday when I can't even pick a favorite color. I spent so much time writing out my own ideas of how their biology worked, or creating a bunch of slime girls for stories I never finished writing. It took me a while to realize I wanted to be just like them, like how it took me a while to realize I wanted to be a girl too.

I thought I'd get laughed out of his office, I mean I've seen the photos and stories of people on slime HRT but it just felt different, like I was going one step too far, I was probably just super anxious, I felt so relieved when he just showed me a list of slime variants instead of laughing. There were so many different options on the list, slimes made of just gel, sap, wax, and there were so many different colors, but that was the problem, they all felt right, I wanted to be any of them.

It was so selfish to ask, but I needed to know if a slime that could change color was possible, or something that could truly transform into any kind of slime. He asked what I meant, if I was looking into becoming a shapeshifter. I shook my head no and said I wanted something like a chameleon. He took off his glasses and pinched his nose, like the weight of every request he ever had just hit him. We, kind of, argued for a while. Well it was him telling me all the different reasons it wouldn’t work or how some people had set up safe LED strips to become a slime strobe globe of different colors, but for some reason it was the one thing I didn’t want to budge on. The one thing I was certain I wanted was that I wouldn’t be certain about my final choice. I was actually ready to just punch this old man until he suddenly folded to my demands and told me he'd need time to make a new variant for something like that. Something about a membrane and chromatophores I think. He also stated, bluntly, that I still needed to pick the type of slime. Being able to switch from red to blue is one thing but there needs to be a base. 

There were a lot of good options, to the point it took me an hour to go through everything and just think about it. I was probably pushing him a bit too close to his next appointment with how long I was searching through options. It certainly makes me wonder how anyone can just know the answer right away. Eventually I had to settle on one and chose the soap variant. I was told it wasn’t actual soap, but it smelled nice and helped deal with germs. I’m not a germaphobe but I like the idea of smelling nice all the time.

After that, I was told I would be contacted eventually when my medication was ready. The wait could be best be described as brutal. There were a lot of calls I made only for me to be told it wasn’t ready yet. I thought I got scammed, like I went to the wrong place and that quack doctor was just faking everything and I wouldn't ever get to be the real me. The most I got was a message once a month saying the research was going well, if I was lucky. 

It was about a year when I got a call back from him, explaining that my medication was ready. I'll be honest, I thought he wouldn't have ever completed it and just stole $600 out of my bank account for a single appointment. I have it now though, a bottle of gel capsules. They taste awful, like shoving soap into my mouth, which makes sense thinking about it. Apparently I won't need to take my normal hormone medication after a bit. Which is good because it's really expensive to pay for both. I guess that concludes my thoughts on the first day. The doc wants me to keep writing down my physical changes but also that I write down my emotional state as well. I don't really get why that’s so important, but whatever, it’s the least I can do if I finally get to be the slime girl I always wanted to be. I can't wait to see how I turn out.

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Next

Thank you for reading through this story. While I’m sure it’s obvious, this is a story inspired by @ayviedoesthings own Dragon HRT as well as @welldrawnfish Fish HRT. I’ve loved these stories ever since they first came out. But I never felt like I had a story of my own to write until I read @sandyca5tle own slime HRT. Please check out all these people’s stories if you haven’t already, and thank you to sandyca5tle for really lighting the fire in me that made me want to try my hand at this sort of thing. I have plans to continue this for a while, not sure how long it’ll be but I want to be able to write a new segment at least one post every one to two weeks. I hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know if you have any advice on how to improve my writing. Thank you so much for reading all this, seriously, it means the world to me. 

[cannedwyrms]

Spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree but...

I'm gonna talk a bit about Miquella.

So, I've seen a lot of (what I believe to be) misconceptions about what we learn about his character in SOTE. I'd like to clear them up as best I can, although I'm no expert at the lore. Still, I think a lot of people are quick to discard him as an irredeemable villain too quickly, or believe that his character in the dlc is different from how he was presented in the base game.

Now, in the base game, I too thought Miquella was pretty cool. He had the rare honor of being one of like 3 characters to not be racist, he seemed to actually care for his sister and have a good relationship with his brother, and he just seemed like the only demigod with some kind of basic empathy.

However, while I believe all of those things are true, there were signs that there was something deeper going on.

Take the bewitching branch, for example.

It's description goes like this:

"The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection."

So, basically, we already knew he could charm people.

Here, I think, is the first misconception. Miquella does not brainwash or mind control people, he just has the ability to make people like him. "He wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men," as the honorable sir Ansbach says.

Shrive, by the way, means to confess, or in this case I think absolve.

So, while Mogh is absolutely the victim, it should be noted that he didn't abandon his original goal. He just factored Miquella into it. His plan went from "rule my dynasty" to "rule my dynasty with Miquella." Still bad, I want to stress, but I think people believe that Miquella can just turn people into mindless slaves or something. All he can do is make you love him and see his point of view.

Next, let's talk about him and Malenia. In the base game, he seemed to really care for her, going as far as leaving the Golden Order when he learned it wouldn't help her.

Now, though, people believe he actually never cared about her at all and even that she was brainwashed into following him.

For this, I'll actually quote Miquella's dialogue in the Consort Radahn fight. (We'll get to him, don't worry)

"My loyal blade, and champion of the festival. Both your deeds will ever be praised in song."

So, when he says "my loyal blade," he's talking about Malenia, right? You know, Malenia, the blade of Miquella.

It's obvious to me that Miquella did care about his sister. His actions in the base game reflect this, and he's the same guy in the dlc, so of course he'd still care about her.

I suppose he could also be talking about Leda here, but what I got from her arc is that she was always doomed by her own bloodlust to be a failure to her cause. In the end, she never truly understood Miquella, and he probably never even knew she existed.

But I'll save all that for another post.

Point is, Miquella definitely cared a lot about his sister, so much so in fact that, in the moment he was so close to achieving his goals, he praised her accomplishments.

But, there's more to his dialogue, which I will use to clear up yet another misconception.

Miquella also praised the tarnished here. "Champion of the Festival," and all that.

This is because Miquella doesn't hate anyone. He doesn't want to fight us. Consider his instant lose move, where he charms you. To me, this reads as Miquella looking for a peaceful outcome to your conflict. What does he say to you?

"I promise you a thousand year voyage guided by compassion."

And

"Lord of the Old Order, let us go together."

It's clear to me that he's trying for a peaceful solution.

See, I think a lot of people have begun to believe that Miquella is some kind of compassionless robot, but, as always with elden ring characters, it's more complex than that.

Miquella obviously has a lot of empathy for the world. Maybe even too much. Instead of him wanting to rule over everything as some kind of God, he simply wants to make the world a kinder place.

Like Marika, he sought godhood not for personal power, but for a cause. But, as we all know by now, to become a god in Elden Ring is to abandon your humanity.

Miquella literally does this, while I think for Marika it's a bit more metaphorical.

Elden Ring is about how people lose themselves in pursuit of their goals, and this is especially true in SOTE.

So, with that framework, Miquella is actually the obvious choice for the main antagonist of the dlc.

Think about it.

What better antagonist could there be for a game about purpose and cause being twisted than a highly compassionate person who became a monster? It's almost painfully on the nose. (In a good way)

Miquella might even be aware that he's done awful things, but as long as it's in service of a better future, he probably sees it as a necessary evil. Still evil, mind you, but necessary.

Normally, I'd just say that if he worked on making everyone be less being racist and mean, then no one would need necessary evil, but Elden Ring avoids this because, at the time out tarnished arrives back at the lands between, racism is literally a law of reality.

It seems like the only way to change that would be for a new god to write new rules.

I don't know, that's all mostly speculation on my part, but whatever. My point is, Miquella absolutely makes sense as the main antagonist of the dlc, but he is notably not the main antagonist of the base game, nor the story at large.

Personally, I'd argue those titles fall to Morgott and Marika respectively, but I digress.

Miquella is just one link in a long chain of people fighting for a cause they believe in. Really, his actions are no worse than Ranni's, but strangely no one is really as upset about the fact that she literally had Godwin murdered to attain her goals as they are with Miquella doing the same thing to Mogh.

Something interesting that I noticed is that Miquella is actually very similar to Messmer. Whether that was intentional or not is not for me to say, but I do think it's interesting that the oldest demigod and the youngest have a lot in common.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm no Messmer lore expert , but, for example, Messmer is often described as being very compassionate and nice, only taking on the burden of being the face of the hornsent genocide to spare his mother that shame. It's an interesting contradiction, to be sure, and one that is quite similar to how Miquella sheds his humanity to make a brighter future.

Perhaps Messmer is meant, in part, to mirror Miquella to make his seemingly "villainous" turn make more sense.

Again, maybe that's just speculation on my part, but what's important is that Elden Ring stresses again and again that there is no such thing as pure evil. Everyone's a victim in some way.

All that to say, I don't think Miquella is out of character in the dlc. I think everything we learn about him is perfectly in line with his portrayal in the base game.

Alright, it's finally time to talk about the big guy with a little horse.

So, I've seen a lot of people say that Radahn was charmed and used by Miquella, or that Miquella only saw him as a tool, but I really don't think that's true.

Let's take a look at some more of Miquella's dialogue.

"Aspiring Lord of the Old Order. If you have known sin, if you grieve for this world, then yeild the path forward to us. To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

Now, I don't know about you, but of Miquella only saw Radahn as a tool, then what's with all the "Yeild the path forward to us," and "To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

If he really viewed Radahn as just a means to an end, then why specify the both of them, unless Radahn was always in on Miq's plot?

Also, if Miquella really only wanted a big guy to ride around on and fight for him, why go through all the trouble of making Radahn a promise? Why not just bewitch him from the start and just force him to follow you?

I don't know why Radahn and Malenia fought. Maybe that was part of the vow, if Miquella could grant Radahn a warrior's death, then he'd follow him, or something like that. So maybe my theory isn't totally sound, but I do still think it's just as plausible as the bewitched theory, if not more.

Another thing I've heard people say as evidence of the bewitched theory is that Radahn wouldn't have gone along with it because Leonard wouldn't be with him.

But, like, you guys, that horse is dead. You killed it in your fight with Radahn in the base game. And Radahn is obsessed with warrior's deaths and all that. He probably saw that Leonard was dead, mourned him silently, and even resolved to take take revenge on the one who killed him, which, again, is you.

And, as a side note, Starscourge Radahn did not treat Leonard with any amount of respect. Did we even see the same attack animations. He was pushing him into the ground, standing on him, and definitely not feeding him. Leonard was described as scrawny, but when we see him, he's downright skeletal. And of course Radahn wasn't taking care of him. He was a literal zombie.

So, I don't think Radahn was bewitched. I think he willingly went with Miquella, once his soul was put into Mogh's body.

Miquella, at his core, is compassion without understanding. He feels for the plight of the world and its inhabitants without having the context necessary to understand why they are suffering. It's a very childish outlook, reflected in his design and curse, his outward childlike form representing his nieve understanding of the world.

That's why he can only see godhood as the solution to the suffering. Because it's all he knows. He was an empearyan, after all.

Of course, if he was a little more emotionally intelligent, he'd realize that abandoning everything that made him who he was is a bad thing, but he's not. He can't see past his own status, not in an arrogant way, it's more like he just doesn't know or understand there's an alternative.

He's that theme I mentioned earlier, the pursuit of goals turning you into a monster, personified. I mean he literally leaves his humanity behind. Can't get much more obvious than that.

Well, that's everything I have on Miquella, at least for now. I've just seen so many "Miquella is actually super evil" type posts and videos, and just a general increase in Miquella hate, which maybe is to be expected, but I still think a lot of people missed the point.

If course, everything I've said is subjective, and if Miquella being evil is what makes you like the character, then more power to you.

But if you, like, actively hate Miquella or misunderstand what we're presented in game, then I don't know. I can't stop you, I guess, but maybe I've managed to change your mind. I think the fun of lore hunting in this game is that everyone kinda has their own version of events, it's almost like we're historians debating ancient history. Idk, I just find that cool, so if your interpretation differs from mine, I think that's fine. Just don't be an ass about it, basically.

Tl;dr: if you took a shot every time I started a thought with "now" or "so," you'd be dead.

Okay, that's all, bye.

A brief adendum to this post:

So I've done a bit more thinking, and somehow completely forgot about the fact that Miquella appeared in Caelid after Malenia bloomed, to help the wounded.

This does, at first blush, come off as quite the dick move on Miquella's part, as he didn't think to help his sister, but I do have some thoughts and speculations.

What if he couldn't? Like, he's a small guy, it's not like he could've carried her all the way back himself. Maybe he trusted Finlay (Malenia's gf, it's canon) enough to let her do it. I mean, I guess it depends on how he got to Caelid in the first place, but like how does anyone in this game get anywhere?

No one uses ships as far as I'm aware, and the only transportation we see is like horse or giant drawn carriages, which are already pretty slow. Maybe Finlay asked to carry her back. Maybe Miquella could have used Torrent, but idk. This is all just speculation on my end.

Anyway, I also think this points to my earlier speculation about Miquella's character thematically. He saw only the wounded he needed to help, but ignored the one closest to him in the process. This interpretation lends itself very well to the idea of his childlike, naive ideas of compassion.

Okay, that's really it this time. I'll probably talk about Leda and the others next.

Bye

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: Never expected I'd ever end up an art museum supporter... I'll do my best to tout the beautiful art.

Summon Line: An art museum, hm... This is a good opportunity to train up my imagination. Alright, I'm going to take a look at everything I can.

Groooovy!!: A cat that can turn invisible, huh. Ooh, maybe it's right behind you even now～ Just kidding.

Home: Celebrating the 100th anniversary is pretty amazing.

Home Idle 1: I'm not terrible at designing cakes, but drawing is a whole different matter... Even if they both require the use of imagination.

Home Idle 2: Cater told me to go on ahead, because he just couldn't get the angle right on a photo he wanted to take... How he can keep up with that for each photo, I'll never know.

Home Idle 3: I think I should be able to recreate the cake that was in the picture with the Queen of Hearts... I'll use mousse for the base, and add meringue on top... Hm...

Home Idle - Login: With all these exhibits, what's the best route to take to view them all? ...Well, I guess I'll just have to start heading towards the exit and view them all in that order.

Home Idle - Groovy: I was pretty impressed that even though we were looking at the same painting, Leona was capable of thinking on the actual story it might have been trying to tell. Art appreciation goes deeper than I thought.

Home Tap 1: Azul shared with me an anecdote about the Sea Witch that I had never heard of before. It's very cool to see the difference in which stories get told on the surface and under the sea.

Home Tap 2: Idia was checking out a painting of the Lord of the Underworld, but I don't think I've ever seen him be that focused before... He must have really liked it.

Home Tap 3: The shop had some toothpicks made to look like the card soldiers' spears. Might look good to decorate the dishes for our parties, so I think I'll buy some.

Home Tap 4: So, the magic lamp only grants three wishes, huh. I feel like even if I got my hands on it, I'd just end up asking for something worthless.

Home Tap 5: I can't help but be a little stiff wearing formal attire like this. ...It suits me? Well, that's good, at least... Thanks for the compliment.

Home Tap - Groovy: Did you find a painting you liked? You'll have to tell me later which one was your favorite.

Duo: [TREY]: I'm counting on you, Leona. [LEONA]: You owe me one, Trey.

Birthday Login Message: Thanks for celebrating my birthday. But I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to have my gift delivered to my dorm like that. You should have just handed it to me directly, since we were meeting up, anyway. Was I shocked? Well, yes... Ah, so it was supposed to be a surprise present! Haha, oh man. You're always finding ways to startle me.

Requested by Anonymous.

[rxmqnova]

Hello there!

Can you write one with Wanda x Reader, like they are together for i don't know, seven or eight months, yn is russian and practically lived her whole life in there but two years ago her parents had to move for work.

So they are in college, they knew each other in there, and then a new student came to their class, Nat.

Yn introduced herself and her girlfriend, and when Nat told her that she is russian, they inmediately became friends, the country was a connection for both of them, they missed it a lot.

Wanda was happy for Yn, because she saw the way she talked about it with Nat, but sometimes she thought Yn was happy with Nat, not because they are for the same country, she was a bit jealous, not that Yn gave her motives for that, she always respect Wanda. When the three of them went to have lunch, Wanda didn't want to go, even when yn tried to talk to her in the conversations they have, she felt out of place, she never went there, she didn't understand the things they were saying. So when they finished, they said their goodbyes to Nat and went to their room, yn felt something was wrong and then Wanda talk to her about what was bothering her and Yn reassure her that she only saw her life with her, told her about she introduced Nat to a friend of her, Maria, she doesn't have to worry about it. (You know, a little love speech) and she gave her a promise ring she supposed to give it to her in their first year anniversary.

The right one

Y/N: 20 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV It's another school day and Y/N with her girlfriend only just stepped into the classroom. As usual, they sit down at their desks and start planning what will they do after their lessons.

"Hey, hm. Sorry to interrupt. Is this seat free?" A redheaded girl approaches the pair, making both, Wanda and Y/N, look up at her.

"Yeah. It's free" Y/N speaks first, the russian accent still hearable in her voice as she's been living in New York for only 2 years. "Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you yet?"

"Oh yeah. I switched classes. I'm Natasha, by the way" Natasha smiles at the pair with hope to find new friends.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N. This is my girlfriend Wanda" Y/N smiles warmly introducing both of them to the new girl.

"Hey" Wanda smiles too, giving Natasha a small wave.

"Natasha… that's a typical russian name" Y/N tells, smiling at the thought of her hometown.

"Yeah, well. I'm Russian, so" Natasha shrugs, making Y/N gasp immediately.

"No way! Me too! I only just moved here about 2 years ago" Y/N squeals happily.

"Wait. Like actually? I'm here for a bit longer, but this is really cool. Did you move here for college?" Natasha asks, continuing the conversation while Wanda just watches them, happy for her girlfriend that she has someone to talk to about her hometown.

"Nope, my parents had to move here for work, but it's really nice here. And I ran into Wanda, so that's a big plus" Y/N says, interlocking her fingers with Wanda under the table which makes the brunette smile even more.

"That's sweet, how long are you together, guys?" Natasha asks, switching her gaze to Wanda to involve her into the conversation.

"About 8 months now" Wanda answers, her smile never leaving her face.

———

That's how Natasha and Y/N became best friends. The two constantly talk about their lives in Russia which makes Wanda really happy. She loves the way Y/N's eyes always shine when she talks about her hometown with Natasha, though she feels a bit left out lately.

"Do we really have to go, Y/N/N? I'd much rather stay home with you" Wanda sighs, holding her girlfriend's hand and trying to get her to stay home tonight.

"Wands, we promised it to Natasha. She's already waiting for us. We can't just cancel it" Y/N sighs too, rubbing her thumb over Wanda's knuckles.

"Can we at least go home earlier? We haven't really been together lately and I really want to spend some time with you… alone" Wanda gives in, knowing there's no chance Y/N would stay home with her tonight.

"Sure" Y/N smiles, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend's lips. "Come on now, we're already late and I'm hungry" She says, dragging her girlfriend away.

The pair meets with Natasha in front of the restaurant which luckily isn't that far away from Wanda and Y/N's apartment, so Natasha didn't have to wait for long.

As always, Y/N greets her friend with a warm hug on which Wanda can't help but feel a little jealous. She knows Y/N would never cheat on her, but the feeling of jealousy is just there. Especially when Y/N gets so lost in a conversation with Nat and Wanda's just sitting there and listening.

This time Y/N noticed Wanda's discomfort though, just when they sat down at the table. Y/N listens to Nat carefully, trying to find an opportunity to involve Wanda in the conversation.

"Well, and then Yelena-"

"Yelena? That's your younger sister, right?" Y/N jumps in, earning a nod from the redhead. "Cool. I'm an only child, but Wanda has a twin brother" She says, looking at her girlfriend and hoping she'd say something.

"Wait, really?" Natasha asks surprised.

"Mhm. Pietro" Wanda smiles at the thought of her brother.

Unfortunately, that's all what Wanda said, so Natasha got back to her story. Y/N tries again and again, hoping her girlfriend would eventually join, but that just never happens.

It's not like Wanda wouldn't want to, but the brunette has no idea about the things the girls are talking about. Of course Y/N told her a lot from her life, but she still can't really imagine what's Russia really like when she's never been there herself.

After a few more failed attempts of trying to involve Wanda in the conversation, the pair says goodbye to Natasha and go back to their apartment.

As soon as the door of the apartment shuts, Y/N decides to break the uncomfortable silence that's been with them ever since they left the restaurant.

"Are you okay? Is anything wrong?" Y/N asks, looking at her girlfriend with worry in her eyes.

"… I just… You and Nat seem to have such a great connection and I just… I always feel a bit left out and I'm scared that one day you'll realize that I'm not the right one for you. I mean… you and Natasha just seem to be a perfect match and I always just sit there and watch you" Wanda admits, her eyes filled with tears by now.

"What? No. Wands, of course you're the right one for me. I love you… I love you so damn much and I couldn't imagine my life without you. Natasha is just a friend and we might seem as a perfect match, but that's just because we both miss our hometown and love talking about it. We're completely different people, but you and I… we are the perfect match, Wanda" Y/N smiles softly, taking Wanda's hand in hers and rubbing her thumb over Wanda's knuckles as tears are quietly running down Wanda's cheeks.

"Really?" Wanda asks quietly, a small smile formed on her face from Y/N's last words.

"Really. Do you know Maria? Maria Hill from the other class?" Y/N asks, earning a nod and a confused look from her girlfriend. "Well, I kinda introduced her to Natasha and the two actually seem to get along really well. Natasha even told me she liked her, so you really have nothing to worry about. My heart belongs only to you" The girl smiles, making Wanda chuckle a bit at how cheesy that sounded.

Y/N suddenly drops Wanda's hands, rushing to the bedroom to take something and then quicky rushing back.

"And to prove you I'm really serious about us, I have here something for you. My original plan was to give it to you for our first year anniversary, but I think this is the right opportunity" Y/N smiles, opening the little black box she's been holding. "This is a promise ring. There's no one else I would love to spend the rest of my love with than you, Wands. I'll change it for a real engagement ring one day. I love you so much, Wanda Maximoff"

The ring is now on Wanda's finger and the brunette can't help herself but immediately hug her girlfriend tightly, pulling her in for a kiss right after.

"I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N"

----------------------

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[yokowan]

It was early in the autumn last year, just as the leaves were beginning to turn, that I found myself in the company of the most peculiar maid. Or, so I call it, for want of a better word. You see, by my very nature I am extremely disorganised. My clothes cycle between the floor and my person, maybe finding themselves in the wash from time to time if I feel so daring. Papers and writing implements are strewn about every level surface of my residence. Soiled dishes pile high and are not cleaned until I entirely run out or the smell becomes intolerable. My absent and aimless mind has led me to live in a kind of squalor that the most rancid maggots might turn up their noses at.

One weary late night, I readied myself to sleep. As I always do, I picked up the pile of clothes off of my bed and tossed them approximately in the direction of a chair. Imagine my surprise, then, when I looked over and saw the clothes had somehow perfectly folded themselves as they flew through the air and landed in a neatly squared stack. If not for the dreadful hour of night I probably would have stepped in to investigate, perhaps attempting the same a few more times. Instead I laughed at the bizarre coincidence, and collapsed in my bed.

That following mid-afternoon, after I had awoken and persuaded myself out of bed, I lumbered into the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee. As I approached the counter I stopped and rubbed my eyes. There was already a cup of coffee there, piping hot. Perhaps I sleepwalked? I've always known myself to be a restless sleeper, tossing and muttering through the night, but never have I seen evidence of myself walking about, let alone brewing an entire cup of coffee. Well, I've never been one to refuse a spontaneous gift, even one from an unconscious version of myself, so I picked up the beverage and took a sip.

It's sweet.

Perfectly brewed, just as I like it, but I always take my coffee black. In my waking state I don't even know where my sugar dish is!

I brushed the miscellaneous on papers on my couch to one side and sat down to ponder the event as I drank. Had I, in some trance, managed to go through my entire morning routine and then return to bed with absolutely no recollection of these events, I surely would have at least made my coffee by muscle memory. Somehow not only had I made the drink, but I'd also found the sugar which I most certainly purchased at one point but has never been used since. And all this done without disturbing a single thing in my kitchen! It's so unlike me!

Perhaps it wasn't me. Perhaps some strange and bizarrely covert infiltrator entered my house and helped themselves to my kitchen before being turned away by guilt. Or, perhaps I could have been under the spell of some benevolent coffee-making warlock, or possessed by a spirit, or somehow otherwise under the influence of some magicks beyond my comprehension. Or perhaps, and oh how I laughed when the thought crossed my mind, the coffee just did that on its own! Remembering the spontaneously folded pile of clothes from the preceding night, I considered that maybe the clockwork of the universe aligned just so that the moisture in the air would come to rest in my cup and powdered coffee would fall from my shelf in just the right measure and sugar would appear from God-knows-where and…

What a preposterous idea.

I arose to investigate around the kitchen some more. The dishes on the counter and items in the cabinets were all in precisely the same order, or rather disorder, which they were in the night before. Odd. Absentmindedly, my fingers find themselves brushing against the kettle. It's stone cold. Even more odd. The coffee was hot as if just brewed when I found it, surely the kettle wouldn't have had time to cool down by now. I checked the stove, too, for good measure. Cold as well.

I sighed and stared vacantly as I took the last sips of my coffee. What a perplexing mystery indeed. I set my cup down on the counter. I nearly failed to notice before walking away, but it had just barely caught my attention that the bottom of the cup was entirely clean. I picked it back up and scrutinized it further. Not only was it clean but it was completely dry. As if there had never been any coffee in it at all! Perhaps I had hallucinated the whole ordeal, maybe the beverage in its entirety was illusory? But I could still taste the coffee on my breath! I ran to the closest mirror to look my teeth and indeed the residue of coffee still stained them slightly. No, the coffee could not have been an illusion.

I sat down on the couch with a frustrated "harumph!" What sort of silly games is the universe playing on me. Perhaps this is all a dream? Maybe, but it feels much too real. And besides, it would be a completely useless wager to make; if I'm wrong I'll wake up anyways.

My eyes wandered to the other end of the couch, where I noticed the pile of papers that I'd shoved off to the side. They were organized. Neatly in a stack. The unpaid bills that I'd intentionally shoved to the bottom of the pile some days ago had all found themselves on top, as well.

What sort of treacherous divine mockery is being made of me! Is some bored ancient deity teasing me for my carelessness? Or has the machinery of creation at last taken pity on this dreadful sloven? "What is happening to me!" I cried out in desperation.

As if in response, a stiff draft blew through an open window, lifting an empty bread bag into the air, from where it drifted ever so gently into my wastebasket. I slumped back in my seat. It seems lady luck has made herself a maid.

[tahthetrickster]

a recipe for pound cake

i was born and raised in the deep south. food has always been one of my love languages. making food for someone, accepting food someone made for me, sharing meals, sharing recipes, to me, all of these are different ways to tell someone i love them.

this is especially true for any sort of treat, as i call them. any sort of confection tbh. some of them are baked, some of them are just "fixed," they are all just Treats to me. i have a vicious sweet tooth, and that comes out in the treats i like to make.

this particular recipe comes from my late grandmother's recipe book. she compiled it years ago, had multiple copies printed through some on-demand make-your-own-cookbook printing service she found online, and gave them out as christmas gifts to multiple family members. this specific recipe, she mentions in the book, comes from my great-grandmother, her mother, who we all called mi-ma.

and if there is anything that little old southern ladies know how to do, it's make a mean cake.

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 pound (2 sticks) of butter, room temperature (~227 g)

2 1/2 cups, plus 3 tablespoons, of sugar (~672 g)

6 eggs, separated

3 cups all-purpose flour (~375 g)

1 cup sour cream, room temperature (~240 g)

1/4 teaspoon baking soda (~1.5 g)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract (~5 ml)

1 teaspoon lemon extract (~5ml)

DIRECTIONS:

cream the butter and sugar together

add the egg yolks

add the baking soda to the flour

alternate mixing in the flour mixture and the sour cream to the sugar mixture

add vanilla and lemon extracts to the egg whites, and beat to soft peaks

fold the beaten egg whites into the batter; mixture will be thick

grease either a bundt pan or a loaf pan about twice as much as you think you will need to. i am not joking. this batter is so incredibly sugary sticky and you will hate your life trying to get it to release if you don't grease the hell out of your pan.

put the pan into your COLD OVEN. COLD. DO NOT PRE-HEAT IT. PUT IT INTO THE OVEN COLD. then turn the oven to 300 degrees F (~149 C). bake 1 1/2 hours

let cool on a baking rack

be annoyed because you probably didn't grease the pan well enough

this is a dense, deliciously savory vanilla pound cake with a very lightly caramelized outer crust. they freeze well for make-ahead purposes, and they ship well for i-have-a-long-distance-friend-who-needs-a-treat purposes.

the first time i made this cake was after my grandmother died days before my father's birthday. it was my birthday cake for him that year, and i thought (hoped) that a cake from his mother's—his grandmother's—recipe might ease the heartache for just a moment. i did tell him as i cut each of us a slice where i got the recipe from, and joked that i'd never made it before, so it might not be as good as mi-ma or grandmama made it. he laughed and cut into his slice with a fork and—his eyes closed when he took a bite. and another. and then he smiled for the first time i'd seen in several days.

since then i've made the cake several more times, for friends and family in grief: frightening medical diagnoses. losing other friends. depressive bouts. and while i will not be boastful enough to claim that this pound cake actually cures anything, i WILL say that being sad with a slice of pound cake is a much nicer feeling than being sad without one. and you know what? that seems to be the general consensus among the recipients, too.

this is a pound cake that tastes like love.

i hope that this recipe helps other people to pass along some of that love too, whether to themselves or to someone else.

i think mi-ma and grandmama both would've liked that. :)