#its so embarrassing to not have any experience at 30......

[skunkes]

is anybody sooo stressed out

[greeniegirl23]

Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.”

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it…She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

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

(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot 💜

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

[darlingdreadwrites]

This Halloween is Crazy

THIS IS A SECOND PART OF AN AU. IF THIS IS THE FIRST POST YOU SEE, I SUGGEST YOU CLICK ON THIS (“MAIN STORY”) TO READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS AU!!

pairing: BEN x GN!Reader

summary: After arriving at Mr. Mann’s Manor of Frights, you decide to go to the arcade.

contains: arcade stuff, mini date

warnings: reader gets kinda hurt, I don’t know how to describe games right

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

a.n: this is not a Benjaman Lawman fanfic, I am writing for the AI BEN. I use the ben drowned tags for exposure.

“I want to go to the arcade,” you say excitedly. You’ve heard and seen how huge this place was, you can’t even begin to imagine having an arcade in your house. Your friends nod and tell you that they’ll be heading to the haunted experiences.

Something in the air feels electric as you pass through the crowds of people and scare-actors. As you approach the entrance to the arcade, the environment is livelier and more upbeat than the rest of the manor. The contrast was a little funny. At the other end of that hallway, you just came from, they put so much effort into making the place look so spine-chilling. Here, in the entrance of the arcade, there were a few bat and spider-shaped wall decals. The lighthearted atmosphere drew you in, and you were excited to spend most of your time there.

A foldable table, draped with an eye-catching orange tablecloth with print of back pumpkins, sits beside the entrance. The table has a short line in front, where two guys were trading coins for tickets. They both seemed to be dressed like Link from the Legend of Zelda games – though the taller one had a lazier execution than the other. But your face would meet the floor before you even got in.

You barely registered that a fake skeleton had tumbled from its perch and crashed down directly on top of you. Your reflexes worked faster than your brain did, and you used your hands to stop you from fully faceplanting. The sound of plastic bones rattling and the startled gasps of nearby guests have you begging for any higher power to help you melt into the carpet. As the embarrassment washes over you, someone pushes the skeleton off you and grabs your arm.

“Hey, you okay?” You look up to see that the taller employee was now helping you up.

You try to look grateful, and not as if you want to die as he places his hands on your shoulders and inspects you. His blue eyes roam over you, blonde brows pinching together in concern. You blink, realizing that he was expecting you to reply.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands from your shoulder to run one through his hair, stopping at his neck. “How bad of a lawsuit is this gonna be?”

You can tell that he’s joking from the flicker of humor dancing in his eyes.

“Just 30 billion dollars,” you say as seriously as you can muster, and his features twitch into a look of shock. When you laugh, he seemed to relax into a laugh of his own.

He scratches at the back of his neck as a thought passed through his head. Neither of you notice as the teenager who was helping hand out coins strolls over. The blonde man before you seems to only be focused on you - somehow managing to hold eye contact even when his cheeks are turning a light pink.

“Uh, so,” he starts, trying to sound casual as he clears his throat. “Okay, how about I just let you go into the arcade. For free.”

As he flashes you a hopeful smile, his counterpart crosses his arms.

He scoffs, raising an eyebrow and casting an unimpressed scowl. “Dude, you can’t just give her free –“

“Shhh, don’t mess this up for me, man,” he says as he interrupts the boy with a hand almost bumping into his nose, and the man’s eyes are still locked on you. He’s unbothered by the protest, being entirely captivated by you. “I’ll let you play whatever, I promise.”

“Sure,” you giggle, taken aback by the unexpected attention that sparks excitement in you.

“Great,” he breaks out into a grin, his nerves softening. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

“I’m Benji –“

“This isn’t about you,” Ben interrupts him again and grabs your hand.

As Ben walks you over to the entrance of the arcade, he has the biggest smile on his face. He grabs a big bag of coins, and they clink from how quickly he picks it up. Benji continues to argue something behind you two about “rules” and “not wanting to be the only one working.” Ben waves him off as he barely glances back, and his hand feels warm in yours.

The neon blues and greens from the arcade lights draw you in, and the room looks like it’s pulsing. The beeps and electronic music mix with the energetic excitement of the people around. The room had a mix of every era of arcade games – from flat screened racing games to the nostalgic pixelated classics and their chunky buttons. Ben holds up the bag of coins with a victorious look, and the air suddenly feels a competitive shift.

“It’s free reign, dude,” he says as he places a couple coins in the palm of your hand. “I’m warning you though. I’m kind of a pro.”

“Really?” You give him a skeptical look, pocketing the coins.

“Yes, really,” he sounds too smug for your liking, and you make a very determined goal to wipe the floor with that egotistical little smirk of his. “You pick first.”

You suppress an eyeroll and scan the area. Maybe if you picked air hockey, you could use it as an excuse to throw projectiles at him. But, no, you wanted to be nice to the person that let you in for free. Even if you think he wouldn’t mind having a black eye from the puck. Your eyes land on an old-school shooting game and you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie in that direction. He looks down at your hand for a moment, his eyes lighting up, and he follows you without a word.

You slip a few coins into the machine and pick up a neon orange gun and try out a few test shots. As the game begins, you slip into zombie-fighting mode. Your heart races as you take aim and fire at the targets, keeping your pace as the images flash on screen. You steal a quick glance in his direction, and the intense look of determination on his face has you taken aback. Snapping your attention back onto the screen, you realize that no amount of skill you possess could beat the way he seems to effortlessly rack up points. It was kind of hot. But you were too competitive to let him win all night.

Despite all your efforts, the screen flashes your score to be respectably high, but much lower than Ben’s. He places the gun down with a confident ease and turns to you.

“Not bad,” he drawls.

“Oh, we’re not done,” you chuckle dryly, and he smirks. You want to keep up the act of being annoyed, but it’s impossible not to smile when he offers his hand for a high five and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Didn’t think so.”

After a few rounds of different games around the arcade, you can’t tell if he’s going easy on you. Sometimes you win, sometimes he does easily. But each game is filled with laughter and light jabs, making the losses seem insignificant. One thing you’re certain of, though: the times he loses or even falters, it’s because he was sneaking glances at you. You’d call him out on it if you weren’t doing the same thing. Finally, he stops in front of a two-player fighting game.

“This one’s my favorite,” he gives the side of the arcade machine two loving pats.

You each choose your character, and the game begins. As your fingers hover over the buttons, you brace yourself for the most fast-paced game you’ve ever played. This being Ben’s favorite game told you that it would be nearly impossible to win. And you were right, for the most part. You basically had to abuse the poor buttons to keep up with the heavy blows he dealt with you. Even then, you were somehow keeping up with him, pulling off moves you didn’t even know you could do.

But since it was Ben’s favorite game, he figured he could slack off a little to watch you. He had played this game for hours, even forcing his siblings to play with him. His name had been on the score board for years. But he was too confident, it seemed. Because every few seconds, he would glance in your direction, barely paying attention to the game. Looking at you made his heart feel like it was fluttering. The way the screen illuminated your features, the concentrated furrow in your forehead, and the way your tongue poked out from between your pretty lips captivated him.

“K.O.,” the machine announced.

What? Ben shakes his head as he looks back at the screen. He watches the way your character shifts back and forth in that idle animation, while his fighter lies defeated on the floor. You let out a little cheer, half in disbelief.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, his jaw dropping a slightly. He couldn’t even be a little upset. Not when you were smiling at him like that. “C’mon, I wasn’t even trying.”

“We can do another round,” you offer playfully, shrugging like you were sure you could easily do it again. “I think I can kick your ass again.”

“If you win again,” he starts, pressing on a red button for a rematch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

And, with that, the two of you ended up playing almost the entire night.

[foulfeast]

Deeply embarrassed to ask this, but I looked away about a month back and clearly missed something important; who is Pluto?

OH GOSH DONT WORRY! :] i havent added any info on them yet in my pinned either, i really need to. I actually just explained this to a friend on discord so ill just copy it w some small corrections. Heres the babygirl themself:

Tjey are a sorcerer in a world where like... magic is more treated as a science, just one that has for years been near impossible to control, replicate etc- incredibly unpredictable and ENDLESSLY complex. IT IS a collection of different energies that we dont have in our world, comparable to things like gravity, electricity, magnetism... idk what yet but i am working on it 🫡 ive been putting a bunch of finnshit in there so i think smth will at least be based on singing spells, so maybe some kind of a force similiar to vibrational energy? Vibration is smth that exists but a form of it that can change the physical aspects of smth or call to the physical elements/nature of smth- singing the ground into a swamp etc

And there is like a lot of lore starting to form about differemt eras of how people approached it - in short Pluto "grew up" on a version where people made an attempt to control it. They slid into a more modern thinking of "moving with it, communicating with it"- however, that is a bit surface level, and they still in actions do seek to control it.

They live in an old church like building- basically an old hospital, now a "town witches" home. Old people still come by to get help with things - so do some younger people who have exhausted other routes

(To be clear- it doesnt always work. Because of the whole unpredictability thing.)

However like... the last 30 yesrs people have moved more towards "modern scientific diciplines" like electricity, whixh is far easier to control

Magic is more powerful but only when successful

Modern sciences and old ones are NOT COMPLETELY SEPERATE! Magic could be ccompared to just electricity, igs just an exra energy in this world (there are different forms of it)

Like medicine & chemistry is closer to old sciences than the use of electricity

Pluto is a smooth charming motherfucker. Huge control freak and saviour complex, but they hide it well. Genuinely well meaning!!! A good person but deeply needy and it makes them capable of causing damage.

This is a lot of... me looking at nostalgia and how things were never fairytales, but there was still a sense of fancy to things when i was a kid - and in recent years it has made somewhat of a return, but i sometimes worry that that kind of nostalgia and openness can also be a way to regress. And then looping back to - how its also important to understand and parse past in a way that helps us learn from it, and take the good parts while mutilating the bad parts into a better shape, no matter how it hurts.

It is about time but "My Moon", a character whose design i need to fuck around with also brings an element of toxic codependency, where Pluto gets to act their chivalrous games and know things and guide someone and My Moon gets to stop growing and developing on their own as they get to always be saved.

So i guess thats still about time... two people who the time will pass by

Not as like, h8ing on tradition, on god, im someone who loves history and seeking answers in it. But like as an exploration of some of my experiences w wanting to regress to this state of helplessness and certainty of what has already passed. Maybe makes no sense :] ill work on explaining it better.

Allthough I wil say,if i ever do some full project w pluto, it will be more wholesome, at least on surface! There is a lot of love in their life.

[plasmaapologist]

...just realized i left my introduction in the drafts. oops. at least i have a better photo now.

my names tula, and i'm a registered pokémon nurse with a horrible tendency to ramble. i live in unova and do some work here, but i mainly travel to other regions for this.

i am a former member of team plasma. former. my username is ironic because i cope with humor.

i ran away from home at age 14- it's a long story - and ended up being indoctrinated in. i, like many others, were lucky to have a sort of "snap to reality" moment after ghetsis' first arrest, before the formation of neo plasma, but not before i spent 10 years of my life working for him. many people are shocked by how open i am about my experience, but i think its extremely important to talk about these things: if i could help just one person leave this cycle, or keep someone from entering it, then it would make the shame worth it.

i have dedicated my life to helping pokémon, as a way to attone, i suppose. my darling solosis, mini, travels with me, though i must admit she's quite the spoiled brat. to have such an innocent creature love and trust you is the most healing experience someone can ask for, and i acknowledge that i was so very lucky. i had a home to return to, i was able to find work despite my history, and physically, i bear only a scar on my back and a missing finger... also just so we all know i am a natural ginger and i am not going to dye my hair please stop asking thanks

feel free to ask me any questions you may have: about pokemon, about myself, or my experience with team plasma, any of the sort. and if you need help leaving neo plasma or a group like it, please shoot me a message, i'll give you all the advice i can.

- tula ☆

ooc and admin info:

hi! im cassini, im 21, and i have not rpd since middle school. please be nice

im okay with joining events and plotlines! but i do not know how to join in naturally and get too embarrassed to ask. please shoot me a message/invite! muse list bellloowwwww tulas info

im not lore compliant at times and am even willing to bend (most) of my own headcanons bc multiverse and the likes! very flexible in general

okay more important tula things:

- sapient pokemon interaction is okay! tula will generally believe them. shes seen weirder. legendaries will be met with much more scrutiny, but kindness.

- i keep her age purposefully vauge for "pokemon timeline makes no sense" reasons, but you can generally imagine her somewhere between 26-30, probably.

- shes been through a lot and often copes with humor, which means she tends to come off the wrong way a lot of the time

- though open about her time in plasma, she doesnt like talking about how it affected her

- she speaks before thinking and often posts in bursts do to this

- she has a pretty shitty memory

MUSE LIST:

Timeline 1:

Tula Gagnon - @plasmaapologist (OC. 📍Unova. Birthday: January 1st)

Callisto Aoki - @cherishcherubi (OC. 📍 Kalos. Birthday: October 25th)

Iolana Kealoha - @teamskullkalos (OC. 📍Kalos. Birthday: April 12th)

Timeline 2:

Mari Pijotto - @marifromkoto (OC. 📍Paldea. Birthday: December 18th)

Katy - @patisserie-soapberry (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Atticus - @navisquadatticus (Canon. 📍Paldea.)

Larry - @medali-gym (Canon. 📍Paldea. Half joke blog.)

Robin Lusk - @absolsrenegade (OC/Self Insert. 📍Unova. Birthday: July 5th)

Timeline 3:

Timeline Unknown:

Grise (Hilda Lewis) - @driftingtrainer (Canon. 📍 Vagabond. Birthday: October 5th)

Rochelle Ichihara - @basaltpowder (OC. 📍Hoenn. Birthday ??? )

Barbie & Ken: @championbarbie-swimmerken - (It's fucking Barbie. Yeah, the pink one. 📍 Everywhere. She's Barbie. Birthdays: March 9th, March 11th)

Ice - @rottenice OC. 📍Primarily Sinnoh, but travels a lot. Birthday: December 21st. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

Miki Nakajima - @nakajima-lgm OC.📍 Johto. Birthday unknown. Please read content warnings in the pinned post.

@galacticfoundation - Team Galactic AU blog.

@twotoypokemon Pokémon Rumble based blog. Sapient Pokémon OC. 📍Axel Town

[hisui555]

Hazbin Hotel Thoughts : Alcohol 3 !

Part 1 (Hazbin crew) here

Part 2 (Vees + Overlords) here

Masterpost here

Now lessee how well Heaven can hold up its booze. While Ep 6 implies there's no (or very few) alcohol in Heaven, there's this funny concept called "let's pretend". Again, as seen with Charlie and Vaggie, part-angel or fully angelic people aren't immune to alcohol, so, let's go !

First of all, Emily, and I think that the complete irony is that she can hold it even better than Charlie. Ten glasses and she'll still be standing, excitedly asking for more - might even find the experience a brand new one and enjoyable, blissfully unaware of what awaits the common mortals after that (being a Seraphim, she ain't a common mortal). I peg her for the "curious" type of drunk, constantly asking the living hell out of everything and what's this, what's that, why is that guy falling flat on his face and not getting up ? Nor moving ? For hours ? but also hyper and super-excited. She already loves everyone and everything as her sober self, imagine when tipsy. Sliding down further that wonderful realm of drunken stupor might also make her the "sleepy" type, but contrary to Carmilla's "tired" drunk type, she's just yawning and wanting a nap, instead of being exhausted with everything.

Her filter pops like a cork, but given that her demeanor is mainly positive, she'll just shower everyone with praise and love, and at worst embarrass herself with oversharing - a bit of Anna's attitude around Hans in Frozen - so expect a lot of verbal backspace and realizing mid-sentence what she's currently saying, try to cover it up, only to have another slip of the tongue. I think she'll start to feel something around her 10th glass, and by the 16th or so be definitively at least tipsy, but might surprise everyone by tanking a full bottle before giggling at the pretty colors on the ceiling.

And as much just for irony, Sera won't be able to hold that well. She'll struggle to keep her head screwed on straight and try to maintain her usual poise, only to burst out one hysterical laugh ("HA !") at something at the least expected moment, and then snap back to regal and dignified again. While not a total lightweight either, she'll throw in the towel earlier than Charlie, so maybe she has around Vaggie's tolerance. Both the "tired" and "mood-swinger" type of drunk, in a sense that a constant battle to keep up the façade exhausts her pretty quick, and control slips, showing sudden bursts of wheezing hysteria. She'll sway a bit in the air, wings discoordinated, and might have trouble with distance estimations : grabbing something a wee bit too much to the left and patting around to grip the next glass. Might launch into lectures into the void, or talk to herself, both as an effect of the alcohol and to try to focus on something. Most of the time, people don't even peg her for drunk because "drunk" and "Sera" don't compute in their minds, but when you know where to look, you can see the signs that she's definitely wasted.

Might be able to hold 6 or 7 glasses, but by 10 it's over for her. She'll just wander aimlessly and come pretty close to smacking herself into a wall, talking to people that aren't there and being fairly disoriented. Really, the only saving grace is that she doesn't look as stupid as she's feeling, and that nobody will ever believe that the High Seraphim became a high seraphim in the span of an evening : they'll think they were drunk.

Adam. Ha, do I need to say more ? In any case since he's been seen scarfing down food and drinks and pretty much stuffing his face, I'll be lying if I said he isn't a party enjoyer. And he does hold his alcohol pretty well... but less well than he thinks : guy would bet on downing 30 glasses no problems only to get smashed by the 17th or so. Kudos to him, he will reach his 30th, but at that point he's only half-conscious. Verbal coherence goes completely out of the window, luggages included, and physical coherence is not far away, bending over said windowframe to look down and ask how was the landing. This guy is 100% the "rambling" and "complainer" type, because, c'mon, you've seen him when sober, right ? Expect a lot of "in MY time" and "when I was alive" comments, also being the "flirting" type (except nobody can make out what he's slurring, it's as if he's talking sideways from his mouth and sounds like a walking blooper reel) to various results. At its worst, and most inebriated, just before passing out and forgetting this ever happened, he'll also be the "crying" type, all insecurities coming back up, and suddenly the First Man looks like a sobbing child in search for a mother figure (Sera is the unfortunate target), spouting out all what he finds unfair (be it justified or not) and how nobody listens to him nor stays, and that they should obey because he's the dickmaster, and that has to count for something, fucking dammit. (...I didn't expected the swerve into sad, then the even heavier counter-swerve into stupid. Wow.)

However, to get to that point, you'll have to pass layers and layers of "agressive" drunkness, because Adam, being Adam, is gonna look at the lights on the ceiling and decide to fight them, because nobody's supposed to shine brighter than him. That's from glass N° 10 onwards, more or less. And you better let him think he outlasted everyone, or you'll have a whiny bratty fratbro on your hands.

Lute, well. Lute wouldn't want to drink, because Lute is an angel and angels aren't that unbecoming, but Adam already handed her a few and coaxed her into it. It could go both ways : first route, she has uncanny resilience and while managing a tipsy state around 20th shot or so, never really gets to the point of being outright sloshed. Or second, and funnier route : she isn't used to it and is an actual lightweight. Imagine Lute, drunk off her monochrome ass, saluting at nothing and thinking she's in a training session where the 'enemy' has drugged her, and takes on fighting her own chair because it looked at her weird. She'll mix up locations for sure, fuck up distance estimations, pounce on everything, and literally Adam has to be the responsible one for once (with one or two stupid comments of "yeah, women can't hold alcohol" while Emily is drinking him under the table). She'll still be deadly with a weapon, but that's more years of training and her body being honed to the point of it being automatic - because if she had to count on her fuzzed brain and cross-eyed sight alone, she wouldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo. However, she might also show her more affectionate side to those she likes (like Adam), and definitely be less composed overall, but not relaxing, because Lute wouldn't know relaxing even if she were to be drowning in a beanbag on a nice summer day with a cat on her stomach.

On the second route, 5 glasses and she's toasted, three more and it's over for her. "Violent" and "agressive" type for sure in all cases, though, with a side dash of "sour" and sprinkles of "confronting" sprayed over.

St-Peter would tell you that he doesn't remember being ever drunk in his existence, and he'll be right, because the keyword is remember : he'll go from sober to blackout torched while skipping all intermediate steps after one or two glasses. The guy just blips out of consciousness like the last spark of intelligence behind a Queef's eyes : poof ! gone. His alcohol tolerance would be in the negatives, and the problem is, he doesn't even know it, since he can't ever recall whatever happened. And for fun, nobody tells him, because it's so amusing to watch him eagerly want to participate in the common merriment, even shyly accept a drink to join, then observe the phenomenon the moment he downed the glass : frame one, he's sitting and conscious, frame two, he's very much not anymore, on both accounts. And then wake up, remember nothing, get invited to the next party, and doing it all over again. At least Niffty can boast being awake (even if not really aware) and active, but St-Peter will just go out like a lightswitch.

After a while - and once the fun subsides - people take pity on him and try to experiment with hybrid drinks (mundane + alcohol), but the only effect it achieves is apparently for his mind to spirit away from his body, and he'll just stay there sitting like a statue, smiling into nothing with a thousand yard stare. They call it "good enough" and throw a sheet on him, because the soulless staring can get creepy. Usually, they'll prepare non-alcoholic mimics of the real deal for him from then on : a party's only a good party if everyone has fun, after all.

Aaaand that's a wrap ! Hope you enjoyed !

Again, Masterpost here.

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

@ficwip's 2024 in Review Questions Answered!

This will be long since there're 30 questions, and we all know I have a tendency to talk a lot. Fear not! The first three questions will be above the cut, and the rest under the cut, so's to save your dashes, lmao. (Also, I hate how you can't just type “1.” at the beginning of a line without having it automatically turn into a Numbered List. I'm just now realizing as I type this that I could have done “1:” but I've already done the Roman numerals now, so we're just gonna roll with it I suppose.)

|/|\/|\/|\|

I. How many fics have you worked on since January?

An embarrassing amount, let's call it. Perhaps too many for me to have to remember to be counted.

II. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

Non-linear narratives. Most of the stuff I've written on my ao3 has been fairly linear with clearly defined flashbacks, but I've experimented a bit. I also tried my hand at drabbles again and have successfully done three so far, which I never thought would happen!

III. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

Unequivocally The Goes Wrong Show and its related plays Peter Pan Goes Wrong and A Christmas Carol Goes Wrong. I have not had creative brainrot this much in so long. Mischief Theatre really came up and fucking walloped me with a hockey stick and it shows.

IV. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

I wrote for a whopping twenty-five different fandoms this year! Very exciting.

[New Girl, The Blooms at Ruyi Pavilion, Derry Girls. Ready or Not (2019), Seraphina by Rachel Hartman, Miraculous Ladybug, Calvin & Hobbes, DC Comics, Pride and Prejudice, The Goes Wrong Show, Peter Pan Goes Wrong, The Witcher, Criminal Minds, Percy Jackson!verse, A Love So Beautiful, Professional Single, Mr. Bean, Wicked Little Letters (2023), Danny Phantom, Over the Garden Wall, Love O2O, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Red One (2024), and several k-pop and c-pop groups.]

V. What ships captured your heart?

So many, oh my god. But I think the strongest ones have been Chris Bean x Vanessa Wilcock-Wynn-Carroway, Max Bennett x Vanessa, and though I didn't write anything, Ben Affleck x Matt Damon. The tag on my main blog is Full.

VI. What characters captured your heart?

Lydia Bennet, the entire cast of TGWS but esp Chris Bean and Vanessa Wilcock-Wynn-Carroway.

VII. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Five new fandoms: The Goes Wrong Show, Peter Pan Goes Wrong, Mr. Bean, Wicked Little Letters (2023), and Red One (2024)

And so many ships, it's embarrassing if I cared.

VIII. What fic meant the most to you to write?

OUGH, what a question. I think maybe the ones I did for Calvin & Hobbes because I've adored the comic for so much of my life? I got to see some of Bill Watterson's original archived work in Columbus, Ohio at the comic book museum in the spring this year, which was fucking incredible.

IX. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Oh, I loved working on the main narrative of my this peace is fragile au, If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. I had so much fun creating the cultures of both Kingdoms, and playing around with what the Cornley characters would be like in this situation. I just loved everything about it.

X. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

My Pride and Prejudice modern day AU I wrote for Whumptober 2024, Little Girl, You're in the Middle of the Ride. I really was so invested in what I was writing, and seeing it all come together at the end was so satisfying.

XI. What fic was the most difficult to write?

Oh, hands and above, the first prompt fill for Cornley Christmas Chaos. I can't even remember how many times I restarted the damn fic before throwing in the towel and just deciding to make it a drabble. Which was another added difficulty because I am so bad at keeping my thoughts short. I was successful in the end, though, and the amount of victory I felt was hilarious. (Read it here!)

XII. What fic was the easiest to write?

I think maybe When You Give a Robert A Spell Book… or The Golden Goose. I just remember banging them out in a surprisingly short amount of time.

XIII. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Longest: If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me with 11,650 words.

Shortest: Three drabbles this year. A PJO Pipeyna fic entitled a happiness not elusive; the infamous C Cubed Day One prompt fill in the blink of an eye; and a Love O2O fic entitled and i retrocede as if i was swimming, which is a friendship fic between Sīsī and Yìrán.

The difference between the shortest and longest fics are an incredible 11,550 words.

XIV. What were your go-to writing songs?

Whatever was on my Spotify On-Repeat playlist or my playlist “my emo phase pt. ii”. I wasn't super picky with the music this year.

XV. What was the hardest fic to title?

Probably my Ready or Not (2019) pre-canon into canon fic that focuses on Daniel Le Domas thinking about how he got to bleeding out on the floor towards the end of the movie. Nothing I came up with felt right for the longest time, which was annoying. I eventually settled on a dangerous, dangerous game, one that i am definitely losing.

XVI. What’s your favorite title of the year?

Oh, I can't choose just one aldjf;ds. I have a handful that I enjoyed so much.

Younger Family Members Meddling Offers Surprisingly Good Results (not clickbait)

TFW You Find Out You're Marrying Your Brother-in-Law

“Sorry” is a Five-Letter Word (and never does enough)

Hal Jordan Makes a Good Call, Bruce Wayne Found Shocked and in Disbelief

it's hard to speak with a sob in your throat

XVII. Share your favorite opening line.

It was stupid, he knew, to get distracted while one of his hands is inside a piano and the other is hitting keys.

From TFW You Tune Your Strings to the Sound of Her Voice

OR

Róng'ér watches with disbelief as her older sister once again misinterprets Bái-gē’s words and turns his invitation of a date for two to the movies that night into an invitation for their friend group to go out to the movies. Granted, “Would you like to go to the movies tonight?” is a pretty ambiguous statement on its own.

From Younger Family Members Meddling Offers Surprisingly Good Results (not clickbait)

XVIII. Share your favorite ending line.

There’s a streak of blood that almost looked like one of Mom’s arrows on the floor, by his stomach.

From a dangerous, dangerous game, one that i am definitely losing

OR

And if his solicitor couldn’t help… There is hell to pay, and Darce has always been good with money.

From Little Girl, You're in the Middle of the Ride

XIX. Share your favorite piece of dialogue.

“I don’t know,” he said, his tone a touch defensive.  “I told him that I was fine.  He just had to stick his nose into my business.  I was only telling him to buzz off.” Hobbes gave Calvin a dry look.  “By calling him a noodle-necked, muffin-brained, straw-for-arms, nosey jerk?” “… Maybe I was a little harsh,” Calvin admitted, magnanimous in demeanor. “You should apologize,” Hobbes said, ignoring Calvin’s faux humility.

From “Sorry” is a Five-Letter Word (and never does enough)

OR

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” Trevor said, “magic doesn’t exist.  Not really.” Jonathan gave him an unimpressed stare.  “Explain why I’m a metre tall, then.”

From When You Give a Robert a Spell Book…

OR

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but you’ve only seen him in his uniform.  He’s bound to look different in, say, trackies or something.” “If you’ve set me up with a secret chav, I might genuinely push you into the Thames.” “Isn’t that how Ed Gamble says he got his diabetes?”  Kitty asked, frowning as she tried to remember what his stand-up routine was. “I’m pretty sure Jacaster or Nish said that,” Lydia corrected, silently willing the path to the ring toss to get longer rather than shorter, as it was currently wont to do. “Never getting over the fact you call him Jacaster,” Kitty giggled, doing a poor job of not looking a little moon-eyed about her celebrity crush. “Never getting over the fact that you audibly squeaked when you saw him in that one Mock the Week episode,” Lydia fired back as only little sisters can. “Oh my god, shut up, I didn’t!” “Right,” Lydia pretended to agree, “and Jimmy Carr doesn’t whiten his teeth.”

From Don't Write Yourself Off Yet

XX. Share your funniest line.

Heresy and Elsie rolled their eyes at the same time.  “That’s because you have the unfortunate taste of being into older blond men.”  Heresy snarked over her shoulder as the quartet started to ascend the stairs.

From I demand euphoria

OR

“Your coworkers aren’t as bad as I feared,” Calvin said, turning to Hal. “You haven’t met all of them,” Hal said, smirking. “You haven’t met my Dad’s coworkers.  Talk about corporate zombies.  Yeesh!”

From Hal Jordan Makes a Good Call, Bruce Wayne Found Shocked and in Disbelief

XXI. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I think for some of them it was that the fic suddenly kept getting longer and longer and I was surprised that I had so much to say. I think that i might've changed it in some of them, giving it greater emotoinal depth, but in others I think it was probably just unecessary descriptions. Well, not unnecessary, but perhaps superfluous in some cases.

XXII. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I used the age old, ever important to the writing process tumblr drafts, along with my computer's notes program, and google docs. I think there was one that I started in docs, finished in ao3 then posted it, and then copy-paste it to the original doc, lmao.

XXIII. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Ohhhh... Maybe how I somehow wrote 11,650 words in one fic? It's my longest oneshot currently, and I didn't realize how much I had been writing.

XXIV. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Not really. I post about it, and if I can be arsed to do it, I post the link. But for the most part, I just finish it and move on to the next thing.

XXV. How did you recharge between fics?

I got really into watching New York Ballet's videos about The Nutcracker, as well as watching a lot of British comedy stuff.

XXVI. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

I made some neko edits of several characters but nothing much other than that. One of my sideblogs orginally started out as a Danny Phantom x DC Comics crossover-specific blog, now with Over the Garden Wall and Calvin & Hobbes, and I made themed icons and headers for it.

XXVII. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH so many

Fictober 2024, Whumptober 2024, Cornley Christmas Chaos 2024, 76 Kisses to Valentine's Day 2024-25, Arrowed AUs (a prompt meme list I found a few years ago with little arrows as the bullet points), and Ninette Week 2024.

XXVIII. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

Definitely my friends and mutuals that I talk to a lot since they got to be witness to my writing process of screaming about how I have no idea what I'm doing. I also owe a lot to @baobeejun who helped "Britpick" my Pride and Prejudice modern day, half-Chinese Bennet daughters AU. Anna has been witness to my nonsense going on five years this spring, and I love her dearly.

XXIX. What’s left on your to-do list for 2024?

I am behind on so many things rn LMAOOOO It's a lot of writing challenges I'd started and not finished, haha. And seeing as I'm posting this on the first day of 2025, I feel like it's very on brand for me.

XXX. What would you like to write next year?

I have the rest of the 76 Kisses left to do, as well as catching up on the other challenges I'd not finished. I do have a prompt meme which I've decided to do this summer entitled "a summer of intimacy", but I'm leaving talking about it more to the early spring!

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

do u believe in the 27 forever curse? and how did u survive being 27?

in a way i believe it, but i dont see it as a curse, i find it to b more mathematical, as, you see: in astrology there is something called the progressed chart it'd take too iong to explain here but. when you're 27/28 u experience a transit called the "progressed lunar return". Having to do w the moon, it brings up unresolved pains from childhood, it's also seen as a precursor to ur saturn return that happens when ur 28-30. Like that wound u become overwhelmingly aware of at 27 is the set-up for what saturn's about to obliterate in order to redirect your life in alignment w your highest self. its all just math xD

No but it is sad how age 27 has bcome synonymous w /the curse/ as many ppl cant cope w their pain so they end up taking drastic measures. Thats why i like learning abt systems such as astrology cus when i was 27 it was an absolute nightmare but i kept reminding myself its temporary & this difficulty is just what the forecast called for. 27 rly was the grand culmination of all my fuck ups & childhood sadness especially revisiting death + immigration pains.

i survived it by ummmm having a huge embarrassing unrequited crush on slimbo that i fantasized about all day long xD and taking a lot of sedatives. i barely made any art or posts that year. it was complete hell! towards the end of it my friend saint died which catapulted me back into action. idk if i wouldve started using tumblr or getting serious abt art again if it wasnt for saints passing. cus i was in such a defeated place, but i rly wanted b the person they once saw me as. so i pulled myself up i guess and tried to do some saturn shit..And thats how i got thru it

Now 3 yrs later my life completely different. And way better! but still hard. it never gona b perfect. just keep going even if u have to b a shell for a while. Fight! On! Fight! On! -PMD9

[chrryblssmninja]

top nine first time watches of 2023 tagged by @dizzymoods

this accidentally posted while I was working on alt text during a work break, so not everything is complete but the photos align with the text below.

#1 top film and theater experience of the year) watching Fremont in Fremont as a former Fremont resident

(2023, Babak Jalali)

2) Animalia (Parmi nous) via Sundance streaming

(2023, Sofia Alaoui)

becomes a truly mystical experience. like ppl are gonna make comparisons with certain Soviet films but let this one stand on its own pls

3) Bravo, Burkina (2023 , Walé Oyéjidé) via Sundance streaming

4) Cry of the City (1948, Robert Siodmak) at Noir City.

My fave of the films I was able to catch at the various festivals here throughout the SF Bay, though for top experience I was grateful to finally get to the Castro Theatre for two SF Silent Film screenings before Another Planet changes the seats...

5) The Blazing Sun (Siraa Fil-Wadi) (1954, Youssef Chahine)

screencap found here

6) There is No Evil (Sheytân vojūd nadârad)

(2020, Mohammad Rasoulof)

The "Bella ciao" scene alone is iconic! Yet it is just one moment within a devastating and strident cinematic statement.

7) And Then We Danced (Da chven vitsek'vet)

(2019, Levan Akin)

If you have had any rigorous dance training, you can tell how good this film is- down in the details, telling story through movement.

8) Journey to Epcot Center: A Symphonic History

(2023, Defunctland/Kevin Perjurer)

screencap found here

I SUPPORT KEVIN IN ALL HIS ENDEAVORS

9) Baticano (2023, Stillz)

Imagine my surprise when I turn my TV and one of the best modern homages to German Expressionism and 30's-50's Western studio horror, starring Bad Bunny as Nosferatu and Steve Buscemi as a "mad scientist." The depths of the black parts of the screen alone... pure! black! contrast! Not the telltale flat digital black-gray!

Benito may be no Max Schreck, but Stillz was on a roll for the rapper's videos last year, and now I feel less... embarrassed? that I was repeatedly hypnotized by the hyper-Coachella vibes of the "Where She Goes" video... Stillz has skills.

Or at least knows how to shoot what I like.

Runners-up are many, but I want to highlight:

a) a small but solid run of horror viewing in October, from the adrenaline of As Above So Below to all the subtext James Whale snuck into The Old Dark House. Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde should be counted as one of the best Hammer horrors imo. On the borders of the horror were Mother Joan of the Angels, La Llorona, and the more witchy fantasy The Five Devils.

b) sidestep into Indonesia with May the Devil Take You, which may not be at the tip top levels of Impetigore but still a uniquely wild ride. Headshot sets standards on the action side, and you can definitely spot Gareth Evans' Indonesian industry training in his English folk-action-horror foray Apostle.

[dont-worry-honey]

OK

WHICH ART MATERIALS DO YOU USE?!

LIKE, HOW DOES YOUR PEN.. PEN LIKE THAT. THE LINES ARE SO AKHSOWHSIWHISJW

AND YOUR COLORS ACTUALLY COLOR

Please. I need to know.

Hi!! So I’ll be very honest I don’t use anything fancy!

So here’s the list and a funny story along with them! (You’re getting the whole experience)

INKING:

STA Pigment Liner Pack. (I found one in the street and I liked it so I went to look for more online. Almost died for picking up something from the street counter: 1)

- Pros: Waterproof! (For a while) And since it’s a pack, they come with many different sizes

- Cons: after some time the ink does erase a little, and loses its waterproof….

Sharpie Permanent Marker Ultra Fine (I was in desperate need for new inking pen.)

-Pros: Doesn’t ERASE!! Very strong pigment. Water proof. Lasts!!

-Cons: smell…

COLORING:

Royal & Langnickel 18 watercolors: (I just wanted to have something to do in school since I never had much work to do)

Pros: Very Travel Friendly

Cons: idk!! I’m not a watercolor person !! It’s the first time for me!!

Aenart 36 Dual Pens: (I was gifted this from the school!! The embarrassing part was that I sleeping when it all happened. They stormed in the classroom with a camera in my face saying: “YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED.” I practically jumped out of my chair! Apparently my teacher bought it for me!<3)

Pros: MANY COLORS!! VERY PRETTY!! White marker is perfect for shading white!! (I know nothing about shading)

Cons: none I love them

Staedtler 10 Triplus fineliner: (no story)

Pros: very fine! Very pigmented!

Cons: I don’t remember… maybe don’t put them near watercolor if not dried or applying?

Crayola Color Pencils: (I do not have a full pack. The ones I have are from elementary. I’m currently in college.)

Pros: I like them :) very affordable

Cons: idk! Maybe a professional knows…

Imperial Color Pencils: (I only have ONE! It’s the red one. Almost died for picking up something from the street counter: 2)

Pros: The red one is very nice! Very pigmented!

Cons: idk… I don’t have the full pack…

U Brands Gel Pens 30 Count: ( I got this from a secret Santa! A YEAR LATE. A YEARR!! So when I received it I was very pleased. The year wait was worth it)

Pros: many colors!! Glitter!! Metallic too!!

Cons: does NOT dry fast. Need to wait for it to dry or it will smudge everywhere. The white gel pen doesn’t work well. Get a special one for that! (Someone told me here which one but I already forgot….)

PROCESS:

So ofc sketch first!!

Inking: I use the STA pen for face and face shape. Since I draw Fukase (mostly), I use it for his face markings too. (After erasing sketch, I advice to touch up anywhere you used the STA Pen) For the Sharpie Pen I use it for the the rest. Background, body, clothes, etc.

Coloring: First I go over it with my watercolors. I put them down before I put down the markers. For example, I use the watercolor first for Fukase’s hair. Then I use the Staedtler Pens to get that bright red! For clothes (or anything else) I use Aenart Markers. For the background, I put my crayola/ imperial color pencils on top. Depends on the feeling I want. Then I usually like to outline my drawings with the U Brands Gel Pens. When I tell you I put glitter on all my drawings, I put it on ALL my drawings!! I LOVE SHINY!!

Conclusion:

I really hope this was able to answer your question! I’m pretty sure most of the things on my list are affordable! I also hope my process was able to help explain how I make coloring… well coloring (English is not my first language I apologize. I suck at my first language too, though). I also hope you enjoyed the bonus stories (I didn’t want to make this whole thing boring). If you have any more questions I’ll be happy to answer them!! Also THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I never thought someone would actually like how I color since I struggle big time with it,,, I’m self taught so I have no idea of the art basics of coloring.

Anyway, thank you so much again!!

- Honey

P.S. Due to legal reasons, not sponsored.

[patchbadger]

Hello it's been 7 years on this website and I come with raccoon paws scratching at your window pane.

TLDR: I'm supporting 3- 6 humans, a mortgage, inflated electric bills, student loans, basic needs, and working as the sole provider and now I cannot afford my medicine that prevents my migraines. If you want cheap art I am here hi just remember I'm colorblind so colors won't be perfect.

I take many medications for my migraine condition. I take a daily preventative, an abortive when I have a migraine, and then I have a monthly preventative that is an injectable. I need all of these to get me down to 6 or 8 migraines a month. If it rains I have more but this is with medication. If I do not have one of these medications I have migraines daily and if I encounter a trigger like not getting enough sleep, the weather changing, smoking, etc I'll get knocked out.

Unfortunately I have brainstem migraines which impacts my speech and ability to move in my environment. I continue to work through my migraines because I have literally no choice. I basically look and sound drunk it's horribly embarrassing.

This impacts my ability to drive too. If it strikes at work I need to uber home because my coworkers won't drive me home and no one else has a license.

If I miss one dose of any of my medications it sets off a migraine conga line qs I like to call it and I begin having migraines every 2- 3days and the longer I am off it the more migraines I steadily have.

It's hell.

My migraine medication is 208$. I am currently the only working adult for a household of three and there will soon be three children here for the summer.

Unfortunately I had serotonin syndrome a few weeks ago as some of you know and that had me out of work for a week and a half. Meaning I lost a week and a half pay check. Which may not seem like much but we live in constant poverty and are food insecure.

Literally every dollar counts in our precarious position.

The electricity company in western New York is super charging its customers so a regular electric bill for a house using less electric than average is 300- 500$ a month. Which is just a little less than our mortgage

We currently owe over a 1,000 in back pay, there isn't any relief for individuals who cannot pay the inflated rates. It's totally crazy but I need my medication. I can call the electric company and beg but I can't beg for my medicine.

My field also experiences a drop in attendence in the summer and due to my health my boss I'd trying to reduce my hours to help my body recover. That's great and all but it doesn't help me get the money I need for my injection.

My student loans are 875$ a month and I'm on the lowest payment plan and the government just sold my loans to a private company so I will be paying additional loans soon.

As you can see I have a lot on my plate but I just need that migraine medicine so I can work through it. I do a lot of passive income through survey junkies but I can't do those activities when I'm migraining.

All the images below are works in progress

Basic pencil and ink illustration

Comic book pages 15- 30 depending on content and number of pages.

if you want a comic badly and feel OK with my abilities we can work on a manageable and low price to make multiple pages happen. So bulk pages will be cheaper.

Comic book featured custom outlets??? Just resin customized outlet covers???

Can do

Painting I mean I'm trying it but if you'd like one hmu man

I tinker around with a lot of stuff

I also like to find old toys/statues and remake them so if youre interested in my raccoon art that stuff is up for new homes that will appreciate their unique beauty and love them for who they are.

Thanks for your attention and happy scrolling!!

[bangers2]

Beyoncé - Cowboy Carter (Long review)

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

This ain't a country album, this is a Beyoncé album.

100th post! That's crazy. Ok so here's what I'm thinking of doing now. Obviously I don't listen to enough music to keep doing a song a day. BUT. I want to branch out more and listen to some new shit. Thus I am going to try to listen to a new album every couple days / weeks and post a song from it, giving you my initial thoughts on the record. I like having this account very very much and don't want to kill it! This will allow me to write reviews without embarrassing myself on AOTY lol.

Let's start easy: A highly anticipated album for me, from my childhood hero: Beyoncé. I do not like country music at all. I like Dolly Parton and the one Carrie Underwood song. Sometimes I SLIGHTLY enjoy Taylor Swift's country stuff. But it's never been a genre that I've voluntarily listened to or explored. The two singles Bey released for this project, "Texas Hold 'Em" and "16 Carriages" were a lot more palatable to me, but I kind of thought that I only liked them because they were Beyoncé. I get attached to artists whose work I usually enjoy, and end up enjoying their music even if it's totally different to what I usually like. Going into CC, I had low expectations, but remained a bit hopeful.

I think the most accurate description of this album is that it is a Beyoncé record with a bit of a country twang. On this album are guitars, real instruments, country-style melodies, and lyrical subject matter which has the soul of country music, but labelling it solely as a country album is maybe the most diminutive thing you can do.

Genres are a funny little concept, aren't they?

On Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé explores so many different musical styles: traditional country, but also classic rock, gospel-style balladry, little ditties, and even Jersey club and a little bit of trap (there's a D.A. Got That Dope-produced track on here!?). She sings about her father, her family, her children, and her confidence, but also addresses not winning AOTY (a crime.), as well as making a reference to "Becky with the good hair" right before covering Dolly Parton's "Jolene."

This album is overwhelming. There are so many songs, so many different sounds and emotions, and yet I can't say there's any I'd get rid of. My one criticism is its length, but at the same time, every song contributes to the emotional journey this album takes you on, and pruning the tracklist would make for an incomplete, shallower experience.

She's reached new heights. She's made one of the best albums of her career, nearly 30 years in. She's also done the impossible: she got me to sit through an hour and eighteen minutes of "country" music. And I enjoyed it! Yeehaw!

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

As of right now, here are my standout tracks:

AMERIICAN REQUIEM ★ BLACKBIIRD ★ BODYGUARD ★ JOLENE ★ DAUGHTER ★ ALLIIGATOR TEARS ★ II MOST WANTED ★ RIVERDANCE ★ II HANDS II HEAVEN ★ TYRANT ★ SWEET HONEY BUCKIN ★ AMEN

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

I encourage anyone who likes the music I usually post to check out "II HANDS II HEAVEN." I saw someone compare this one to Four Tet. I have never listened to Four Tet, but I will after this LOL

[farmerlesbian]

I’m turning 30 this year and I’ve never had a relationship, never had sex, never even been kissed… this is embarrassing to admit and at the same time, I’m not ashamed at all. This whole time I was trying to date men and ignore my natural instincts so of course it never worked out… but also… what will people think of me when I try to date for real? I think I’m asking for advice

i think its good that you feel no issue or shame with it, that’s a good energy to carry into pursuing dating folks. i don’t think it will matter to people that matter, that are right for you. for some people, they might not be cool with it, but ANYTHING can be an issue for any person for any reason. also, you are surely not the only one without a lot of experience. the thing is you don’t have to attract EVERYONE, just maybe a handful of people that are right for you.

[filmperidot]

High School TV Show Top Picks

Shows set in high school can be delightfully funny and bittersweet, or horribly embarrassing failures. Nowadays (it seems more often than not) your classically fun ‘teen show’ is a rare find. In a sea of shitty, and bizarre shows (looking at you Riverdale), there are still some good ones out there. As someone currently in highschool, I’d like to share a little guide to some of my top picks.

Before we get started, I also want to note that I think there’s a pretty big difference between shows that happen to be set in highschool/feature teens, and shows where their highschool experience is a large part of the plot. Coming of age is really a blanket term that can take a lot of different forms! For this post, I’m going to give my top picks for coming of age shows that are actually dedicated to the high school experience. While I love coming of age shows such as Stranger Things, and intense dramas like Euphoria, the main focus of those shows isn’t actually the fact that they’re in highschool. So this list is going to largely feature slightly more grounded comedies and dramas.

Derry Girls (2018-2022, 3 Seasons, TV-MA)- Derry Girls follows a teenage friend group in Ireland during The Troubles. It’s honestly one of the funniest teen shows I’ve ever seen. Each of the characters are nothing short of delightful, and their families are just as fun. To this day, it’s shocking to me that the cast are in their 20s and 30s- they truly nailed what it is to be a teenager. At only 19, 25-minute long episodes, it’s a pretty quick watch for a TV Show, but an endless source of serotonin. It’s extremely enjoyable for any age.

Sex Education (2019-, 3 Seasons, TV-MA)- Sex Education follows Otis, an awkward teenager who’s mother is a sex therapist, and his friends he attends school with. This show is a similar delight. It’s laugh out loud humor is well balanced with true poignancy, and it’s actually quite educational. Give this a watch if you feel like your high school health classes failed you!

Heartstopper (2022-, 1 Season, TV-14)- Heartstopper is a romance between two teenage boys set in England. This one was mostly included because of its overall sweetness. Its incredibly heartwarming, and quite refreshing to see such authentically kind and honest characters in a teen show centered around romance. This show is perfect for you if you enjoy teen romances, but are tired of seeing them portrayed as overly edgy, dramatic, or heavily sexualized.

Freaks and Geeks (1999, 1 Season, TV-14)- Freaks and Geeks tells the story of two groups of friends in the late nineties. Sadly, this show was cancelled before it could get a second season, which I consider a true tragedy. It’s funny, authentic, the characters are great, and the storylines are still as relatable and relevant today as they were when this show first aired.

I Am Not Okay With This (2020, 1 Season, TV-MA)- This show is about a character named Sydney, who’s dealing with highschool, family drama, romance, and superpowers on top of that. I Am Not Okay With This is really the outlier of this group of shows, since it does have a supernatural element. But I decided to include it here anyways because (as I stated previously) the actual highschool experience is still relevant and very relatable. Sadly, this is another show that was canceled after only one season. Now, I’m typically doubtful of most shows that have gotten canceled by Netflix. I watched a few of the ones that have received outrage for being canceled, and let’s just say I wasn’t impressed, which has made me a bit of a skeptic. But I can say, wholeheartedly, that the outrage was deserved for this one. The humor is fantastic, the actors perfectly embody their characters, and much like the rest of this list, the comedy is well balanced with deeper themes.

Please give these shows a try if you haven’t seen them! I’ll probably be making a post for my favorite broader coming of age shows, or maybe one for coming of age movies?

[limpfisted]

wyll and romance! (spoilers for: wylls romance! its VERY cute. i recommend spoiling urself for it tho unless u plan a whole wyll specific playthru bc there r. very few scenes lol. like less than 30 minutes total.)

so i did not get this on my playthrough bc i felt weird to try to “persuade” wyll to kiss astarion on that save, but the fact that if u do, the next day he has a specific exclusive dialogue where this grown ass man says “my cheeks feel warm. am i blushing? i must be blushing.” with like the giddiness of the debutante ballerina he is, tells me that.

wyll loves when other people make the moves on him n are the “initiator.” he also doesn’t disapprove when ur slightly mean/overtly rude or call him a devil in his romance scenes, which means that, he has a good sense of humor, he likes em mean, or soft, as long as they’re giving him attention n he gets to see them smile and feel joy around him.

i feel that wyll has spent the great majority of his life alone exploring the world. some days mizora was his sole company, n only then thru his seeing eye, n thats not company he cares to keep despite his great yearning for the power she gives him. his experience romancing mostly comes from his teenage years—and while he has stoked his fires at a tavern or two or with a grateful survivor of misfortune, there’s a lot of time spent alone, thinking, playing pretend in his head, fantasizing. not always about romance, mind u—he’s not THAT much of a schoolgirl, n there were powers to master and training to be done even on his own. but under the stars—sometimes he dreamed of the ballrooms, even tho he danced alone.

i think he imagined a great love like the player character would come along. i imagine a part of him wished to be saved, and loved, despite or because of mizora. he’s not used to tender care, used to playing the charming hero, never being protected himself

when he is expressly sought after he gets embarrassed and extra romantic. he swoons when seduced. he can dish it out—see: his banter with SH and lae—but he can barely take “being taken care of”—especially when it’s so genuine, and he’s hurting so deeply, n his passions are stoked by a devil’s cinders…. n by a disgust with himself that only feels fixed, really, when they let him know his body and presence still make them feel “safe.” that he’s not an abomination or a monster—they’re still interested, they still care, he’s worth loving, or maybe, in wyll’s eyes, still turning their gaze upon, a summer setting sun.

he appreciates you so, so much. but also it’s a sistraction from the way his body n mind have changed. one he welcomes. one he craves, but can look upon with wonder instead of guilt. u save him from himself and his wallowing. u let him be a simple, ordinary fairy tale, even tho a devil cannot be a prince. that’s all he wants. maybe some u know, forbidden tomes n noble delights n excess as well, but mostly just a fairy tale. he promises!!!

in addition, and this is random, but i think wyll would be so good to be in a relationship with if u have mental illness. he doesn’t understand some things—like gale’s sacrifice—but he is so kind to dark urge. he knows you are not your intrusive thoughts, u just need help, and u can fight or overcome any feelings or thoughts that would harm u, n he thinks ur so brave for it, n he trusts u completely, like he hopes u trust him. hes no stranger to depression n self loathing n a lust for darkness after all, wyll sold his soul for the stuff, even if it was for all the right reasons tho i maintain the details r sketchy as hell.

if this all seems overly poetic its bc im practicing wyll’s voice here, a mini sample of what shipping would be like, LOL.

and this is with only two romantic scenes. then sixty hours later he proposes marriage with a magic acorn so full of love u can feel its magic warmth beneath the shell. i would love to see romances with player characters (companions included if they are “the player character) where we flesh that shit out! lmao

[serensama]

In Sacrifice, Glory: Chapter 14 Read on Ao3 The journey to Crestwood was different from what Elissa had expected. She had grown accustomed to only having a small team with her, not a small regiment, and it took her time to adjust. There were at least 30 soldiers that accompanied them along with the Commander, and their normally intimate and quiet camp was filled with the bustling noises of Skyhold, albeit on a much smaller scale. All that was missing was Maryden singing and more ale being consumed, and she could almost believe she was still there. Except for all the rain- somehow, once they crossed over the Crestwood border, it just would not stop raining.

The introduction of the near-constant wet weather meant that she was spared from her nightly training sessions. She hadn’t minded when it was just Solas or Cassandra individually- and she certainly did not mind any time she got to spend time with Cullen. It was when one of them decided they needed to train her together that her grief began (“Hahren, it was you, wasn’t it!” “I have no idea what you speak of, Da’len”). It would not have been a bad idea if not for her getting pummelled every night.

She had previously thought she made great strides since first waking up in Haven, unable to conjure spells at will. Under the tutelage of some of Thedas’ best mages, she quickly learned and gained such control that none would have assumed she was still relatively a novice. It was abundantly clear, however, that her abilities with a sword and shield were already ingrained into her, deep within her muscles and safe from her locked subconscious. She danced about like the weapons were part of her, an extension of her arms that moved without the need for thought and reliant on instinct alone.

Whilst they tried to keep the training a private affair, away from the prying eyes of the soldiers, it became impossible when the two mages started to fight each other, bright sparks of their mana clashing and revealing their location. It was not long before these lessons for Elissa turned into master classes for the soldiers, learning how to take on a mage or two at once, watching each of the combatants with fervour, eager to absorb as much as they could. After all, who knew when they’d get another chance to travel with the Inquisitor? Although it embarrassed her to no end to have everyone witness her spectacular failures – and so often- the experience only endeared her further to the troops. Knowing that even their leader could learn something meant that they, too, should not rest on their laurels and always be willing to improve.

Their final training session was particularly humbling for the Inquisitor. Her confidence had been dashed the moment Solas threw a stonefist in her blind spot at the exact moment Cullen and Cassandra had decided to land strikes on either side of her. They were so powerful that even when she blocked them, the effects of their attacks left her reeling. The Inquisitor was left with a very large bump on her temple and a thumping headache, both arms still up and struggling under the pressure the warriors were still submitting her to.

“We should stop here. The Inquisitor is a stubborn creature and will not give up until she passes out, and I should check on that head wound,” Solas advised, the Commander and Seeker immediately stepping back at his words. The soldiers who had been allowed to watch all voiced their displeasure at the abrupt ending but still praised them all for their efforts.

Frustration bubbled beneath Elissa’s skin as she stumbled through the camp, the stonefist spell having hit its mark a little too well. She could hear Solas apologising for it, but she waved him off, knowing that the enemy would not miss any opportunity to catch her unaware. He taught her a lesson she would not forget. The sadistic trio pushed her, each instructing her in their own way: Cullen imparted lessons about power and form, Cassandra about discipline and tenacity, and Solas urged her to feel the Fade and react to it, so even if a fist made of the earth were to be hurtled at her when blinded, she could still anticipate, evade or nullify it.

With each bout, Elissa had to remind herself that she was growing sharper, better. Even if, in the meantime, improvement meant she had to fall before rising stronger. It was becoming apparent to her that her strengths lay in not being the best swordsman or mage, but her ability to adapt and bring out what was required of her.

Solas fussed over her, ensuring the knock to the head didn’t leave any lasting effects. The sting rapidly subsided as he finished up and regarded her thoughtfully.

“Worried, always worried, Eyes watching over and ready to teach, ready to catch. The responsibility of the world in the palm of her hand, not fair, not right.”

“Cole,” Solas chided gently as he tested the tender spot behind her ear, “what have I told you about just saying people’s innermost thoughts and feelings?”

“... Not to do it,” the young spirit pouted, running his hands through the damp grass he sat upon.

“I understand you want to help people; it is the very core of your being, but people keep things guarded for reasons all of their own. And sometimes, they keep things to themselves to keep others safe,” the apostate explained, trying to press the lesson upon the rogue.

Elissa turned to appraise the spirit. He unsettled so many people with his ability to pop in and out of visibility and his innate ability to listen to their secrets and divulge them to the world. It was how she had originally learned of Bull and Dorian’s blossoming relationship, much to the Tevinter mage’s mortification. It was how she had learned that Vivienne approved of her recent reading material and Blackwall’s want for a better knife so he could whittle a toy for the stable hand who was expecting their first baby in a couple of months. However, it was not hard to see that Cole’s intentions were pure and he told her that information to help her feel closer to her companions.

He was also wicked talented with daggers, a jarring contrast that a spirit of compassion could be such an efficient assassin in the shadows. He took no joy in the lives he took; in truth, it pained him. He would often find the greater good in things to help reconcile the acts his hands committed, understanding that if he did not act, those he granted mercy to would not afford it to their victims.

“I killed the Red Templar, but the man inside- Garrick- he cried with joy. He was free; he was not hurting anyone anymore.”

“That bandit did not know kindness. It was all gone. He was in pain, and so the rest of the world had to be in pain, too. He would not have learned. He would not have stopped. So I stopped him.”

It was the main reason she always opted to keep him in Skyhold; she did not want to place him in any position where his nature had to continue being compromised. She could not fathom anything worse than for an embodiment of compassion to have to twist themselves to inflict pain on anyone, let alone kill them. She had wanted him safe behind the walls, to do small deeds that made people’s lives better. Soothe those in pain and heal the wounds they did not know they had.

Unfortunately, Vivienne had to attend to matters at the Ghislain estate as quickly as possible, and Varric was stuck assisting Leliana and Josephine in responding to the influx of communication flowing into Skyhold. More of Thedas’ faithful and nobility were learning of their new residence and quickly requesting audiences with Elissa and for the Inquisition’s assistance. With the rest of her companions out in the Fallow Mire, she had no choice but to take him along. His skills and unmatched stealth were vital in their plan to retake Caer Bronach; she could not leave him behind.

“I want to help. I can be hard to see. I can kill things that want to hurt people,” he had said simply when Elissa went to find him in Skyhold, loitering in the uninhabitable part of the tavern. She didn’t even have the chance to ask him if he wanted to come along, but he must have heard her anxious thoughts approaching him from a mile away.

“I’m sorry. I hoped to spare you from having to kill anything,” Elissa said sadly.

“I know,” he replied with an awkward smile, one hand reaching to pat her on the top of her head like she had done for him so many times. “You’re always thinking that way. You always have. Even though you can’t see it. Hear it. You feel it. You know. You always spare everyone but yourself.”

“...What do you mean by that?”

“Even without remembering, you already know. It is always a part of you. Even with magic, even with new breath, new lungs. You remain. You know.”

“This is going to be a very long trip for me, won’t it, Cole?” she asked, dread filling her gut as the spirit’s smile waned.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful.”

At the very least, the boy hadn’t been blurting out all her deepest secrets to everyone. Perhaps he considered the troops’ dependence on their belief in her alleged divinity. Knowing that they would be devasted to find their saviour was nothing more than a normal woman who had fears and doubts just like them; the spirit must have thought it best to keep his mouth shut.

She was even more grateful that the flaxen-haired scamp didn’t magically appear whenever she managed to spend time with the Commander. There was still the chance he would share her very private thoughts about the man, but at least she had a plan. She would open up a rift and jump in from sheer horror and let the demons there eat her face. It was not a good plan, but by the Maker, it seemed less painful than having to face Cullen.

All in all, the journey to meet their mysterious Grey Warden friend had been quite lovely when Elissa thought about it. Whilst she took every chance she could to speak to Cullen when she was in Haven or Skyhold, there was no time to truly get to know him. Of course, they would have a random chat, and she would say something inappropriate and make him blush, but then she would be off for weeks at a time, and they had to break the ice all over again to get the same level of closeness they had before she left. It was all probably in her head, but she knew there was something very different about being able to walk side by side with him, share each meal and spend time at the campfire every night before retiring for the evening.

During their travels, she learned he loved learning about history when he was still in the Chantry and that he tried to be an upstanding student but did get into his fair share of misbehaving.

“It’s not easy watching the candles burn down as you recite the Chant of Transfigurations, no matter how good of a student you are!” he snorted as they rode side by side. She was thrilled when Cassandra and Solas suddenly decided they should travel at the back and allow them both to lead the team just as they had when travelling to Skyhold.

“I’m not judging you, Cullen! It’s hard for me to pay attention at most war councils now, and I am not a 13-year-old boy gagging to run around and thrust my sword into everything.”

Cullen chuckled and looked over to her with one cocked eyebrow.

“I don’t know what it is about talking to you, but somehow, I always sound absolutely filthy, even when I don’t mean to. I MEANT that you wanted to get out in the training field and work on your swordsmanship,” she grinned, urging Charlotte to trot ahead, knowing that the man would not let her be alone for more than a moment. “You are diabolical.”

Elissa heard his quiet laugh followed by a command to his horse, and when she turned to her left, there was the Commander, beaming at her from ear to ear, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in weeks.

They spent their days discussing things like his love of reading and her love of the sea. She told him of her vague memories of spending hours swimming and frolicking along the beach. When Solas had briefly interrupted their talks to show her a rare variation of elfroot and inspired Cullen to tell her that had he not been a Templar, he would have become a farmer like his father. He quite enjoyed farming too; something about taking care of the crops and watching them grow and the joy of yielding their harvest was something he could have done for the rest of his life.

“Well, you still are when you think about it.”

“How... so?”

“You are simply growing soldiers instead of wheat or potatoes. You cultivate them, give them the care and attention they need to thrive and survive and in the end, you have a force that you can be proud of.”

“I guess I never thought about it from that perspective,” he admitted pensively.

“You wouldn’t. Like I’ve said time and again, you do not give yourself enough credit, Cullen,” Elissa said kindly, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

He spoke of Honnleath and let slip he had a fondness for playing chess.

That was how they had found themselves at the end of the night by the fire, the Commander borrowing a board from one of his soldiers.

It was also how Cullen discovered that the Inquisitor was abysmal at chess.

“How are you so good at adapting on the battlefield and coming up with strategies on a whim, but not be able to play chess?”

“I don’t know! How are you so good at playing the game?”

“Mia-”

“Your older sister?”

“Yes. Y-you remembered?” he asked quietly, shocked that the Inquisitor had remembered his sister’s name. Elissa narrowed her eyes at him in confusion, wondering why the man was so surprised at this revelation. Had he thought she didn’t listen to people when they talked?

“Why would I forget? You only told me two days ago. They’re all in South Reach now, right? Probably waiting for word that you’re still breathing, Mr I-do-not-write-as-often-as-I-should?” she chided as she took one of his pawns, wriggling on her seat in a celebratory dance.

“Ah, well. Yes, they are. And to answer your question, as a child, I played this game with my sister. She’d get this stuck-up grin whenever she won—which, of course, was all the time. My brother and I practised together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won...” he smiled as his thoughts drifted. “I wonder if she still plays...”

“Well, then you should keep up the practice for when you next see your sister,” Elissa advised, resting her chin on an open palm as she held his gaze.

“I should. You’re right,” he nodded as he watched her make another terrible play on the board. “You know, this may be the longest we’ve gone without circling back to the Inquisition and related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction. Ah, it’s my turn,” Cullen replied, grateful his move afforded him a moment to look away from her, any longer and he would find it near impossible to keep his word to Sister Leliana. He wanted nothing more than to lean over the chessboard, pull the Inquisitor closer to him and press his lips against hers. Especially when she worried at her bottom lip or slowly tapped at her mouth with a chess piece whenever she overthought her next move.

“Mhmm, well if you’re to beat her, we should play more often. They say that the best thing you can do to deepen your understanding is to teach someone.”

Feeling more brazen than he ever had, Cullen decided to playfully rib at her. “So, with that reasoning, I will be a grandmaster by the time you understand how to play.”

Elissa’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened with a large smile, guffawing at his cheeky comment. “See, you must get that from your sister, that smug little chess smile you’re giving me right now.”

“I am not smiling.”

“Oh, but you are; your scar is doing that adorable little scrunch it does when you smile.”

“You notice when my scar does a scrunch?” he questioned, not realising that anyone would pay any sort of attention to his face.

“Yup. I notice when you’re angry, your right eyebrow twitches a little as you fight off a frown, but you always lose, and the frown always wins. Just when I think you can’t look more serious, you always manage to surprise me. I notice when you’re trying not to laugh at something one of your soldiers did, and your ears start to turn red. I notice that you do not like to drink very often and will opt for tea or juice when you’re able to-”

“You know all this?”

“I am the Inquisitor; should I not know my comrades?”

“Of course. It’s just…” Cullen trailed off as his heart jumped to his throat, astounded that Elissa spent any time paying attention to him. He cleared his throat and scratched at his cheek, praying to the Maker he wasn’t smiling like a fool. “ It’s.. well… you take all that in, but can’t see that I’m about to take your knight.”

“My wha- Cullen!” she squealed in playful outrage, causing a few of the soldiers around them to look up at the noise. “Oh no, that’s it. We will spend every spare moment during this trip playing this game until I can bloody well play somewhat decently. We should spend more time together anyway,” she said without thinking too deeply about what her words could mean to him as she moved another piece on the board.

“I... would like that,” he replied, excited about the prospect of more secluded chess sessions together.

“Me too.”

“You said that,” he pointed out, his tone deepening as he locked eyes with her. “But we should finish our game, right? My turn?... and with that, it seems this one is mine.”

Elissa ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth and huffed in amusement as she surveyed the board. Cullen cleared his throat as his eyes followed the movement and readjusted himself on his seat, feeling more and more like a lecher each time he noticed something the Inquisitor did that turned his thoughts less than platonic.

“It seems luck has favoured you today,” she grinned, not expecting the outcome to be any different.

“So it has. Shall I meet you tomorrow night for another game?”

“Oh? So you can enjoy thoroughly decimating me on this battlefield as well?”

“Absolutely. It is refreshing to see you fail so completely at something.”

“See, I knew it. Sadist.”

Cullen laughed heartily and extended his hand over the black-and-white board in a show of sportsmanship. Elissa playfully grimaced at him but took it easily, her hand fitting perfectly in his. --- The land used to be quite beautiful. She was sure of it. If not for the perpetual storm and the ceaseless undead that seemed to spawn out of nowhere, hell-bent on attacking the living, it would have been a lovely little hamlet.

Elissa did not trust Mayor Dedrick; she desperately wanted to because he seemed to care for his people. However, alarm bells rang in her head that she could not ignore. He may have been worried for her and her team, but to see them all and not welcome them with open arms to help rid themselves of all their troubles baffled her. Even at the sight of Cullen and the soldiers that barricaded the town to fend off any stray undead from entering, he was too hesitant to accept her help, citing her safety as his main concern.

“Your people are dying. Your village will be destroyed- between the attacks of the monsters and men; there is no surviving this, Mayor Dedrick.”

The Mayor eventually handed the key to the dam, allowing Elissa access to the rift in the OId Crestwood caves, the slight tremor in his hand not unnoticed by her. Elissa thanked him nonetheless and bid him farewell, returning to the town’s main entrance to confirm how to split their teams to ensure the highwaymen did not catch wind of the large Inquisition force in town. Cullen divided the soldiers into groups, with at least ten men to stay behind to guard the town with Scout Harding’s team after seeing its dire straits. The other twenty were to split up and surround the fort out of sight and remain hidden until the Inquisitor made herself known; only then would they raid Caer Bronach.

Cullen was about to head off with the last of the soldiers when a scream was heard further up the path. Elissa bolted towards the sounds of swords clanging, frightened that the bandits had started attacking the villagers instead of just the passing merchants. Instead, she found two Grey Wardens and a woman they protected from the undead.

“It’s the Inquisitor!” the Warden archer cried out happily at spotting her.

“Then Andraste is with us!” said the other, using his body to shield the woman crouching behind him.

Elissa took in the scene and counted only a few remaining corpses and wasted no time in lassoing the monsters and sending them back to the Fade, their garbled screeches disappearing within moments. The Wardens swallowed at the green light that subsided and double-checked their surroundings to check it wasn’t some sort of illusion.

“Are you all right?” Elissa asked, offering her hand to the woman on the ground. She looked at her palm nervously before tentatively sliding her hand into the Inquisitor’s who pulled her up with a soft grunt.

“Yes, I am well now. Thanks to you and the Grey Wardens.”

“I’d go back to the village, Miss. These roads aren’t safe,” the warrior said earnestly, the woman nodding vehemently before sprinting back home. “The Grey Wardens thank you for your aid, Inquisitor.”

“They do not need to, but your thanks and assistance to that woman is appreciated. What are the Wardens doing in Crestwood? Are there darkspawn here as there were in the Storm Coast?”

The two men looked at each other, unsure if they were able to divulge anything without betraying the Order. After a moment of deliberation, the warrior finally answered, choosing his words with caution.

“Hunting one of our own. We have orders to capture Ser Alistair of Ferelden on sight. The man’s slippery as an eel; we’ve been chasing him for weeks.”

“What do you know about this rogue Warden?” Elissa asked, doing her best to hide her shock. They were still searching for him? And so close to finding him, too?

“Warden-Commander Clarel ordered his capture. I can say no more than that, but I do hope Alistair comes quietly. I’d rather not fight the man who helped kill that many darkspawn.”

Elissa’s heart started to skip faster in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm and appear only vaguely interested in their quest. She willed her mind to forget the way so many of the closed doors to her memories seemed to quake at the mere mention of Alistair. “Are you staying to fight the undead here? The people look like they could use all the help they can get,” she asked steadily, biting the inside of her cheek to stop her from acknowledging the burgeoning pain in her right eye. The last thing she needed was for the Grey Wardens to have intel that the Inquisitor was weak and prone to fainting spells- she was sure Corypheus would love that information.

“We’re sorry, Inquisitor. Our orders forbid it. Crestwood was only meant to be a detour. If the Inquisition can help, I beg you to do what you can. As your worship says, these villagers have already lost too many,” the Warden warrior said solemnly, raising his fist to his chest in a salute. We must return. We bid you goodbye, and thank you again for your assistance. May the Maker continue to guide you.”

“Farewell and safe journey to you both then,” Elissa smiled and waved them both off, thankful they were on their way back to Orlais to Warden-Commander Clarel. The mage turned to her companions and sighed in relief. She instructed them to take some time to rest and eat; it would not be long before they would make for Caer Bronach and once there, there would be no respite for any of them.

---

The air in Crestwood was thick, and the constant humid weather made the rain feel like endless beads of sweat trickling down their bodies. Days of travel in their armour, coupled with the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness from the city’s inhabitants, did little to lift anyone’s mood. Elissa stood before Caer Bronach, the fort looming ominously against the stormy sky, her shoulders set and her face tense with a mix of concentration and apprehension.

“We can’t let these highwaymen keep terrorising these people,” she said softly to herself. She had already fought her share of undead and rabid wolves, so she could only imagine how difficult it was for the untrained townspeople scrambling to survive and for the merchants trying to get lifesaving provisions and wares in and out of Ferelden. Elissa wanted to relieve her foul temper by ensuring the opportunistic bastards paid for their selfishness. There were people dying, and all they cared about was more coin.

Solas furrowed his brow and caught her gaze, the weight of the world reflected in his violet eyes. “We will not. Your mastery of magic has improved significantly, Da’len; you are truly formidable whether with your staff or your sword,” he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. “The battles to come will prove to the world why your people have chosen you to be their Inquisitor. Trust your instincts; they have served you well thus far, and know we are with you.”

With a nod and a tentative smile shared with her tutor, the Inquisitor raised her staff, flames swirling at its tip as if the fire chased after the air that surrounded it to feast upon. She ordered everyone to stand back and instinctively fell into a stance she had practised with Dorian, her legs hip-width apart, knees bent with one foot forward- and closed her eyes.

The heat is in the air, in my veins and in the palms of my hands. It’s there. And I am the spark.

Elissa opened her eyes and exhaled steadily. She reared her arm back and thrust it forward like she was plunging her blade into someone’s torso and unleashed a tremendous gust of fire that illuminated the darkened planes surrounding her. Her one attack shook the giant doors and left a deep, large fissure in the newly charred wood. She repeated the spell twice over with no hesitation, shattering the massive doors with an explosive crack as loud as if she had conjured lightning, sending splinters flying and ash billowing into the air. “Let’s go,” she commanded, stepping through the smouldering entrance, her heart pounding.

As the smoke cleared, four Mabaris burst from the shadows of their kennels, their teeth bared and growling at them menacingly.

Cassandra stepped forward to stop their advance. “Come to me, you great beasts!” she taunted, shield and sword at the ready.

“Cassandra, your bravery is commendable, but these creatures are merely following their instincts,” Solas called out while he raised barriers of shimmering blue magic that wrapped around his companions to protect them.

“I realise that, but they are not backing down, and their first instinct is to rip your throat out,” she bit back, slamming her pommel into her shield to keep their attention on her alone. “Should I just let them do it?”

Before they could act, Cole vanished into thin air, reappearing on the upper levels to dance between the hidden archers preparing to rain arrows down upon them, taking them out one by one before they could fire a shot. “The dogs are scared, just like people,” he called out, his words barely audible over the sound of his blades. “They think we’re their enemies. That we’re here to hurt their masters. I do not want to hurt them.”

Elissa ignored them and focused her energy on directing a wave of frost towards the approaching dogs. With a precise flick of her wrist, she encased them in ice, freezing their legs in place without inflicting harm, the notion of hurting a Mabari completely repugnant to her. “We won’t hurt them. We just need to get to the higher floors,” she reassured him, her mouth pressed together in a determined line.

As they cleared the entryway, Cole reappeared next to them, eyes wide with urgency. “They all know we’re here. They’re getting ready to swarm us, like ants to a wasp; they want to climb upon us and tear us apart,” he warned. “They think they’re stronger in numbers. They do not know of the lion in wait.”

Cassandra rushed out of the fort and raised her hand to signal Cullen and the regiment waiting in the shadows. Not wanting to lose their advantage, Cullen led the charge, his soldiers surging forward like a tide with their weapons drawn. “For the Inquisition!” he shouted, and the soldiers followed suit; their voices merged into a singular rallying cry as they passed the Inquisitor, knowing it was their job to take on the bulk of the highwaymen as she continued on.

Elissa’s team pressed deeper into the fort, the sounds of battle crashing around them. As arrows whistled through the air, Solas weaved his spells to shield his companions and drew crowds of enemies together for her to finish off with strikes of lightning. Their heavy armour making them perfect conduits for her ire.

“Stay close, Da'len!” Solas called out to her, his voice steady despite the chaos. The Inquisitor caught his eye and nodded quickly, her voice stuck in her throat from the rush of adrenaline, too many thoughts coursing through her head to be able to speak. Elissa forced her mind to focus on the next encounter, trusting in her training to guide her movements. She could hear their troops behind her, the din of their battle slowly coming to an end, and she did not question that they were victorious. They had their Commander there to lead them, so she could focus her energy on only what was ahead. She tightened her grip on her staff, the familiar weight a comfort in her hands amidst all the turmoil around her.

They turned the corner and saw a cache of supplies the raiders must have stolen from the countless merchants who travelled through the city. Cole had appeared at her side, his threadbare shirt torn and drenched in blood. Elissa handed her staff to Solas and ran her hands over him in fear. Did spirits get hurt, and if so, did they bleed? How do you even heal a spirit?

“I am fine, Inquisitor. The blood is not my own. But the shirt is, and it is not as fine,” Cole said, answering her unspoken concerns aloud. She was so relieved she didn’t even tell him off for invading her privacy and simply hugged the boy to her, uncaring that her armour was getting even more filthy.

Elissa forced a vial of healing potion into each of her companions’ hands, with Solas happily drinking his down while Cassandra tucked hers away in her pocket, much to Elissa’s annoyance. She turned to each of them to ensure they were ready to continue, knowing there could only be so many spots left to hide for the head of this two-bit operation. She nimbly took the stairs two at a time, eager for the battle to end. It opened into a large area, and there stood three lieutenants, not one of them standing out to her as someone who would be the leader.

Once again the warm buzz of Solas’ barrier coiled around her, reminding her that her team was still behind her and waiting for her next move.

“Cole-” she began, wanting to tell him to attack the archer, but before she could finish her thought, the rogue had already melted into the shadows, his penchant for reading thoughts on turning into a great boon on the battlefield. So long as he didn’t repeat their enemies’ thoughts aloud, they would be fine. It would be much harder for her to focus on fighting for her life when she heard about an axe-wielding thief thinking of a child back home they hadn’t had the chance to meet.

Cassandra readied her shield and threw herself into a run, knocking down the closest warrior to them, the large man flying through the air and landing with a clamorous thud. Solas aimed a spell, weaving the nearby loosened stone and bricks into the chest of the third man to their right and Elissa almost felt winded upon the criminal’s behalf. She knew firsthand how hard Solas’ spells hit. She noticed that the men were protecting a staircase behind them which must have led to wherever their boss was hiding. She made her way toward the steps just as one of the biggest men she had ever seen started to make his way down, brandishing a large maul that looked almost as big as she was.

The atmosphere shifted with the Highwaymen’s Chief’s appearance into the fray. He stood tall, a sneer plastered on his face and raised his weapon with a threatening glare. “You think you can take this fort? You’re fools!” he spat. Elissa’s heart raced; she could feel her companion’s eyes on her, their silent encouragement bolstering her nerves.

“We have already taken the fort as it belongs to the people of Crestwood. We have your men, they have been placed under arrest by order of the Inquisition. Tell me again, who is the fool?” she replied, her voice strong and clear. “Seems to me the correct answer is the cocky man who simpers in the shadow of his men and hides behind big walls, all the while flailing about a weapon to compensate for his lack of… honour; he is the fool. Last chance. Stand. Down. Or did you really want me to prove you don’t know how to use that thing apart from polishing it every night?”

The battle erupted with the Chief’s enraged cry. Elissa looked like she already knew every step of their intricate dance, her body moving naturally as if she were doing nothing more strenuous than breathing. Her staff crackled with energy each time she struck an exposed part of the man’s body, each strike sending arcs of lightning sparking into the air with brilliant flashes. She dodged all of the Chief’s blows, each one landing onto the stone floor with a heavy thud. Elissa thanked the Maker for her agility and lighter armour, which allowed her to move around him easily. “Cassandra, keep the flanks clear!” she ordered as two of his lieutenants stirred on the ground behind her. The Seeker leapt into action, her sword flashing like a beacon before running them through to keep the Inquisitor safe.

Cullen hurried up to meet the main team and aid in their fight after ensuring his soldiers had everything well in hand. He had arrived in time to witness the reason their organisation had gathered such strength so quickly, the Inquisitor and her team in the thick of the action. They cleared the path for their forces like a hot knife through butter, and apart from the assault on Haven, this was the first chance he had to watch what the woman was like in actual combat.

He did not know whether to be amazed at her and her team’s prowess or be humbled by the knowledge that he wasn’t required there at all. From what he saw, the four of them could have taken Caer Bronach by themselves if they had felt so inclined. He continued to watch from a distance, his heart pounding not just from the fights he won to get there, but also from the sight of the Inquisitor moving with such grace and power. Each hit she landed, whether physical or magical, fascinated him. Inspired him. It was not difficult to understand how she effortlessly drew people in wherever she went.

Cullen anticipated their next moves, keeping a close eye on her as she expertly countered each attack, embarrassed at the surge of pride he felt when she used a technique he had shown her only a few days before.

She really was amazing.

As the fight raged on, Elissa felt the effects of the battle start to slow her down, and she knew she did not have much more time before she ran out of stamina or mana- she had to finish it quickly. She let out a frustrated scream before releasing a shockwave that knocked him off his feet. Finally spotting an opening with her opponent down and weakened, she opened a rift to the Fade, her breath hitching as she summoned the mark’s power. The portal hummed eerily, pulling the man closer no matter how hard he fought, his hands desperately searching for purchase on anything he could reach.

He let out a blood-curdling scream as the rift ripped and stretched his body as he was swallowed into the Fade. The sound of his cries echoed through the fort, and Elissa knew it would encourage any resistance from the remaining highwaymen to fail; their bravado would crumble and their surrender all but assured.

Cullen’s gaze sharpened; he knew his deep admiration for her had long turned into something more profound, and he could no longer deny or feign ignorance toward it. He felt torn, worry swirling in his chest as he remembered his promise to Leliana, but in his meagre defence- everything about Elissa was intoxicating, crafted lovingly by the Maker to be his personal temptation. Cullen stood frozen, absorbing the scene- his vow to remain passive weighing heavily on him, but the Inquisitor’s triumph left him breathless and without a shadow of a doubt.

He had feelings for the Inquisitor. For the Hero of Ferelden. For Elissa.

As she turned to her companions and flashed them a tired smile, he knew this was only the beginning. He understood that he would only fall deeper into the rabbit hole with no way out. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that perhaps their destinies were always meant to be intertwined, that she was always meant to save the broken Templar from the tower, and he, in turn, was meant to be at her side as she saved Thedas once more. That he was always destined to be the hapless man drawn to her, his moth to her flame, even if her light would mean his demise.