#the first time she's had enough to live for and enough belief in her self worth to think she shouldn't have died there

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls Lore Concept- The Oracle and Bill

The Oracle:

I was initially inspired by the Twitter user @SUwu159's depiction of the Oracle in their take on Relativity Falls, and made my own adaptation as I learned about her in canon.

(Assume she can change colors because I couldn't pick what I liked most)

This version of The Oracle isn't malicious per se, and does not desire the same conquest or chaos sought out by Bill. But she likes universes to be organized and quaint (or answers to another high power that demands it), and finds fulfillment in achieving these goals through any means necessary.

The Oracle and Dipper:

(Sorry if this dialogue tastes like a corndog in your mouth. I just needed to write a semi-resolution to Dipper's side of the relationship, ha.)

Getting into the real struggle with the Pines family. Dipper and Mabel don't fight and hold grudges like the Stans (that we've seen of), so my opinion is that they drifted apart in their late teens and twenties, both feeling pressured to be less attached at the hip. My current belief (though I'm very willing to rewrite this section) is that Mabel and Dipper both poured a lot of energy into pretty niche fields, and being very busy meant very short and rare windows to reach out. Both assumed the other was doing bigger and better things and felt self conscious / childish for wanting eachother's company.

I'm still considering Mabel's backstory, since I think she probably hit lower points than Dipper. You know. Starving artist, lol. But Dipper entered into paranormal investigation, pest control, etc. before his ghost + monster catching went far enough for his name to gain some notoriety. Hell, maybe Pacifica's family reached out to him to take care of "rats" that were actually ghosts, cementing his interest in Gravity Falls and giving him a window inter supernatural work.

Dipper was taken on as something of an apprentice to the Oracle 30ish years before canon as word of his good and dangerous deeds spread. However, what was at first a personal dream come true (saving lives with nerd magic) soon became a personal hell as the Oracle began to overwhelm Dipper with knowledge of various futures and universes where everything he cared about could be destroyed. He's always been over prepared and incredibly paranoid, and became obsessed with protecting the world by acting as a partner to the Oracle.

He ends up doing- or not doing- a lot of morally ambiguous things and gaining a lot of enemies. He is too ashamed to face his family- especially Mabel- with what he's done and burden them, giving the Oracle more to use against him to keep him working for her. Basically "you've already done all this and risked it all, there's nowhere to go if you stop now." Eventually this ends in her seeing him fit for her work and convincing him to hide out in and save other universes, which he gets trapped doing for the next three decades.

Little throw away idea: Pacifica could have been an investor or partner, but left as they uncovered secrets about the Northwest family. Maybe she wanted to undo something (debating making any of the Oracle's powers time related just because I hate time travel) or stop a current show of corruption, but Dipper had to stop her for the "greater good."

In the main universe, Mabel goes to Gravity Falls upon news of her brother's disappearance, searching for any loose end to trace back to him.

I love that in canon, Dipper is willing to do anything for Mabel, and Mabel gives it back. Dipper here spends all of his life keeping as many versions of her as safe as he can, and she spends all her life trying go seek him out- maybe even dropping a larger opportunity outside of Gravity Falls for her art and settling on business at the shack. Dipper wants Mabel alive, Mabel wants them both happy. I like the idea that it's Dipper and Mable vs. The Future but the future is a demon, alien thing.

Which leads me to...

Bill Cipher:

I'm actually gonna cover a couple versions of Bill I think are fitting for this AU, because I initially wasn't sure if I wanted him here at all.

Child Bill:

Pretty straight forward. Bill as a baby, child thing is tempting and this is the au where he'd exist. Personally though, I think Ford's friendship with Fidds would be more enriching to his growth, and Bill's personality is so close to Stan's they would likely be competing to fill very similiar roles. (If Bill behaves differenty as kid, I don't know about it.) Honestly, Bill is super similiar to Ford and Stan, and works better as a kind of foil or antagonist because of that (imo). I do find the mental image of Ford carrying Bill around funny. I do not enjoy human bill like, conceptually, so I'm probably never gonna design one as an adult or child, lol.

It would be cool to see a world where Bill didn't accidentally kill his parents though.

Bill - Reincarnated Original

Technically I guess they could all be reincarneted (especially baby Bill), but this version of Bill experienced and holds memories of the original canon events in GF. Beings like Bill and the Oracle can remember recent/soon approaching lives, and catch glimpses of more distant cycles as well.

What I like about Bill's recent role as an antagonist to Ford and Stan is that he constantly describes them in the terms of their worst traits, and sees them through the lens of the roles the world placed on them. In this AU, Bill is the epitome of the past (in this case a past life) coming back to bite the twins. He rattles their progress in communication as well as their sense of inner peace by bringing old Glass Shard Beach issues into Gravity Falls.

(Depicted here-> moments after Ford summons Bill using the same ritual as Gideon.)

The drawback to this is that it feels a lot like covering old ground.

Simply Bill:

This is pretty much just regular old Bill with the same fresh perspective as everyone else, and also the one I'm going with. He tried and failed to get Dipper's trust in the past and had to lay low at the arrival of the Oracle. Once they left, Bill targeted Mabel. I think it could be very interesting for Mabel and Bill to either have a fresh relationship wherein Bill is actively taking advantage of her desperation to find Dipper, or for Bill to be an old betrayal (not romantic, but not dissimilar to the opportunistic exes Stan and Ford have to be wary of and beat back under the rug regardless).

Either he shows himself to Mable early on, or decides that Gravity Falls is both Oracle-free and worth the time after either Ford or Mable summon him. Afterall, 30 years isn't much to him.

Maybe he exists in the background like he's always done, or the kids (being snoopy and disrespectful of Mabel's secrets) discover what Mabel's doing and run into him on their own.

Whether Bill is aware of the original series or not, I think he could be neat to stick in between Stan and Ford again for conflict. My favorite aspect about Relativity Falls is the prospects of the Stans having a larger support system and better tools to help themselves with. Beating Bill faster and better would be the ultimate testament to Mabel and Dipper's skills as functioning role models, even if Mabel is currently blinded by her focus on Dipper.

Stan and Ford will fight and they will make up, but this time maybe they can overcome it on their own.

I also think a good idea is having Ford and Stan's issues be completely Bill free (outside of like an episode or two's worth of relevance, unless he put them into a particularly stinging situation). It would feel fresher and also streamline the plot, lol.

Overview:

- Dipper is stuck travelling the multiverse with the Oracle and keeps himself sane by thinking of Mabel and protecting various versions of her.

- Mabel is investigating his disappearance in Gravity Falls and is working on a portal/portal equivalent with Bill to bring him back.

- The kids may or may not be aware of this.

Looking at the main series of events, I think it'd be neat go back to the apprenticeship conflict, where Ford could be approached by the Oracle (or something else that makes sense) with the promise of being a "hero," but knows better now because of Dipper and his experiences with Bill. It's kind of a more convoluted version of Ford's proposal to Dipper in canon, and they basically learn the same thing, lol. You can hang out with ghosts if you want, but demons are gonna get you. Maybe being a child with siblings is all you need.

(Stan could also be offered this, given the Oracle already knew he- or at least someone with his face- would beat Bill, but I think it's well established he isn't very interested in doing anything without family.)

All in all, things might be a bit crowded with two antagonists. But I do like the concept of Bill's arrival and subsequent chaos triggering Dipper and the Oracle's return to Mabel's dimension. I also love the idea of Bill, the Oracle, and some secret third thing all trying to pull the Pines family apart, and it's like a Man vs. God turned into a Family vs. Destiny thing, idk. Just trying to make it feel bigger.

Thank you for reading all this. It was a lot to draw. Next time I do anything for Relativity Falls, I'm gonna go back to the smaller things like Mabel bonding with the kids and stuff like that.

[goldsbitch]

Open your eyes

Everyone is self-conscious about their body sometimes. For Y/N's it's always been her small boobs, living in the belief that this would make her unattractive. Can her best friend help out?

warning: light smut, nipple play, blindfold

this one is for the flat chested girlies out there

If only teenagers knew how all of their peers are just as insecure as they are. Might have saved a lot of trouble, sleepless nights and maybe even stop everyone from overthinking and living more of a "just finally kiss me" life.

//

It was a sunny summer afternoon, as per usual, these two late teens, would spend it in a room with all windows covered up, eyes glued to the screen and hands gripping gaming consoles. They grew up as close friends, in fact he was the only one she ever potentially felt comfortable enough to admit her insecurities.

"Still don't get it why you said no," he noted, once again, to the situation where one of his racing friends asked for her number and she declined without providing a reason.

She ignored him the first time he'd address it, hoping he'd just let it go. It was frustrating how much invested he was in that. With a big sigh, she replied the same as she did before. "We are just not the right fit."

Lando, a teenage guy with a massive crush he had yet to decipher, was not satisfied with that answer.

"Don't get it," he said nonchalantly as he blew her head off in the game they were playing.

"Fine!" she responded and nearly threw away her console. She locked eyes with him, still not sure if she wanted to share her deepest insecurity.

He knew her, in the light reflected from her screen he could see on her face that the mood in the room has changed drastically. No more casual fun and games.

"Spill it," he dared, perhaps realizing for the first time why he craved her presence so much. "Was this it?"

She took a deep breath, trying to somehow ignore Lando's intense stare. She would always closed her eyes when something "scary" was in front of her. With her eyes shut, she finally spoke. "It's, um...You know," she said, vaguely pointing around her chest. Poor Lando was so caught of guard he forgot to breathe for a moment. "What?" he said, confused as ever.

Another annoyed sigh. "Don't make me say it, Norris."

"Well, you're really bad at pantomima thing, so I'm afraid you'll have to," he said, keen on not letting this go, his mind trying to ignore his inner disappointment.

"Fine. But promise we will never address this again."

"Promise."

"He just, he seems like the kind of guy who would want a more developed girl..?" she said, still not sure how to communicate it.

"As in all the braincells? I see your point now," he couldn't help himself from teasing her. Ever.

"Dickhead. My boobs," he almost bursted, once again gesturing to her chest. "They are so small. Why would someone like him find that attractive?"

Now, he was truly taken of guard, no idea how to respond, because he could hardly understand. It made the wheels in his head spin. Only at that moment realizing he'd do anything to see her small boobs one day. Y/N mistook his surprised silence as a confirmation of her own insecurities.

//

Once his brain processed the newly found information, Lando understood, as best as he could, where Y/N's insecurity regarding her boobs came from. While he'd never admit it, he often wondered whether he himself was "developed" enough. He had always been smaller than guys his age, something that is hard to hide. Same with breasts, unless you really wanna fake it, you can just tell from the outside.

Ever since that summer afternoon, he started to notice things he did not before. How could he not hear the subtle comments she made so often?

He was hanging out in her room, the last evening before he parted to several races. They were suppose to meet some friends later, so he stopped by, expecting her to be ready, while she was busy trying on a seventh top and still not liking it.

"This one has just too low of a v-neck," she whispered, perhaps more to herself, but ultimately, he did hear her. It's been weeks since the first and last time they spoke about it, Lando managed to pass many comments she made about herself.

But, fuck it this time. It was bothering him endlessly that she was insecure like that.

"That's it, Y/N. You know that the size of the boobs does not matter, right? Guys don't care about that," he stood behind her, locking eyes with her through the mirror she was standing in front of.

She froze, staying silent.

He continued. "Tell me, did a guy ever complain when you slept together?" They would usually share stories of their "achievements" in the past, so he was aware that she was sexually active. It was just that recently, that thought became sort of uncomfortable. Other guys touching her.

She snapped back. "Well, they never complained, but the also never even looked at them, so how could they know!"

"What does that mean?" he asked, once again confused.

She wished her mouth would wait for her brain to approve sometimes. Especially with Lando. There goes nothing. "'I've always kept a shirt on."

Baffled Lando wondered how could those other guys allow it. "So you've never shown your tits to a guy?" he said, almost astonished.

"No...It's not my asset and I know it. My, um...my ass is pretty good?" she defended and he had to try so hard not to picture her, on all knees, spine bending and her ass perked up towards him.

He swallowed, barely believing the words he was about to hear coming from his mouth. "Then show them to me."

Her eyes went wide. "Lando!" They had a close friendship, but not the kind where walk around naked in front of each other.

He held his arms up in defense. "No, I mean...hey, you know me. You have to show them to a guy one day anyway. And I promise I'll tell you the truth. No bullshit." He knew he crossed a line. Which was why he almost did not believe her next word.

"Ok."

To be fair, it did make some sense. If you really look for it. But while he was crushing on her without realizing, she had been crushing on him for months, fully aware of it. There was a tingling in her stomach when he made this suggestion. Unfamiliar, exciting tension. As if she wanted him to stare at her tits, no matter how insecure she felt about them.

"But I can't watch you," she added, turning around to face him. "I'd be too embarassed."

"So close your eyes?" he noted the obvious.

"No, you gotta tie my eyes," she said, making his cock twitch in his pants.

//

It was hard for Lando to wrap around his head what exactly was happening. As he was tieing up a band around Y/N eyes, she accidentally touched his hands when she was checking it.

"It is too tight?" he asked softly, waiting for her to deny it.

"All good."

He stepped away and turned her around so that she would stand face-to-face with him.

"Um, whenever you're ready, I guess," he announced. Part of him could not believe what was happening, another part of his was scared she's back out and another was terrified of himself. And how much he craved to see her.

She took a deep breath and tried to block all her thoughts. And boy, were there many. The strangest one was the excitement.

With one swift move she took her shirt off. Lando's pupils were wide and he probably didn't blink for minutes now. She bit her lower lip and turned around to face him. He had seen her in a bikini before, why was this so much better. She put her hands back and finally took her bra off.

He should have never suggested it. He knew he'd not forget the sight of her small, perky boobs with perfect nipples anytime soon. It was better when he did not know. He stared in silence, while she stood there, blindfolded, nervously rubbing her fingers.

"Gosh, say something, please," she pleaded impatiently.

"Um...No, um," he said, getting his voice stuck for a moment.

"Oh shit, it's bad, right?" she asked, while her heart sank in.

"No!," he immediately reacted, somewhat coming back to Earth. "They are...nice," he said, trying to downplay his own excitement. "Small, but nice. Firm...I guess."

She sighed. "Ok..."

He shifted himself, gaining more presence again. He was aware that what he said would affect her deeply, so his plan was to fix his initial reaction, not to make her wonder. "Seriously. If a girl I was on a date with had your boobs, I'd be more than happy. Trust me."

She relaxed a bit and instinctively went to somewhat cover herself up again with her hands. "That's good to know. Thank you."

He wanted more. To see more. His hormones acted before he did, shooting the boldest test of their friendship.

"There is one thing my sister mentioned few times..." he said before he managed to stop himself. "Apparently...if you massage them, it helps the blood flow and helps them grow," he stated, almost ashamed of himself for making things up like that. It was wrong. He should have just tell her upfront just how much he wants ti touch her.

She knew well enough that was some bullshit. But it was a chance. To know what if feels like when a guy like Lando touches you.

"Um, this might sound weird, but, um, can you show me?" she asked, blinfold giving her the courage she normally lacked.

He could not believe he had standing in front of him, bare-chested, blindfolded and oh so innocent. This sight was awakening parts of him he did not know existed. At that point, he was hard as a rock.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that. But, you should probably lie down," he suggested and took her hand in his, leading her slowly to her bed. She could already feel the fire of his touch when he touched her shoulder. Lando shamelessly watched her nipples harden once he did. The blindfold was a miracle.

He laid her down on her back and popped himself up on his elbows on her left side. Now that they were on the bed, he started to feel more at ease and all of it felt less wrong. She couldn't see him, but his warmth radiated on her naked chest and his intoxicating cologne hit her nose once he put her down.

What she couldn't see was the way he smiled softly at the sights in front of him, taking his time to create as much imagery in his memory as possible. She shivered with cold.

"You should start, I'm getting cold," she said impatiently.

"Anything you want, baby" he replied absentmindedly, not noticing the way he addressed her. The word would ring in her ears for days on. Lando completely forgot what game he was suppose to play. His brain left the conversation a while ago and he was fully focused on the picture in front if him. He had lying down and waiting for his touch.

He started with her left nipple, lightly, feathery, almost non existent touch. His eyes were flashing between watching her chest rise up and down and her face. She bit her lower lip, as if she was trying to hide the way it affected her. He couldn't help but smile and lick his lips. He began tracing little figured of eight on the top of her nipple and when he was sure he got her sensitive enough, he pinched her for the first time. A soft, surprised sigh escaped her mouth. He did not have think about his actions at all, it was all so natural and easy. He pinched her nipple once again, harder this time, before he moved onto cupping her breast and giving it a squeeze, while watching her attentively. She pulled her head back a bit and he knew he had her. Afraid to speak, he continued to squeeze her and then traced her up and down, making sure not to miss her nipple anytime he did.

"The other one," she whispered so quietly he nearly missed it. But he didn't. With a smirk, he kept his hand on her left nipple, and reached over to her right breast. All of the adrenaline hitting up, he leaned over and when his mouth was almost touching her, then carefully licked her nipple. He watched her, half expecting her to freak out and send him away. To his satisfaction, she flinched in a way he never saw he before. There was something sensual, primal about the way air exited her mouth. Still blindfolded, she had no idea his eyes were glued on her face. If they weren't, he'd probably miss out on her soft "More...". He started kissing and gently biting the rest of her boobs, painting pictures with red bruises. She arched up a bit, as if her body was trying to get closer to him. First moan escaped her lips like a shy whisper. The rest that followed were unfiltered, mindless proof that she was fully in the moment. He got more and more excited, his cock hard as a rock, begging to get released. But he was afraid anything more would cause her to back off. So he continued with this actions, switching up between her nipples, breasts and sometimes roamed over to the neck. To get carried away was the easiest thing ever. As he tasted her skin, he got intoxicated. She surprised him when her hands reached out to his own body, done playing the passenger and joining on action. First she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing him more to her chest and then her soft fingers reached over to his shirt, movement suggesting to pull it off. This sort of woke him up back again. He pulled his shirt off and watched her smile when she noticed his bare chest.

"Now we're even," she commented and with no shame touched all around his muscles. A small alarm was going off in Lando's head. He was enjoying this a little too much. The realization that the line that got crossed was out of sight at that point hit him. So he chose to try and get even further. He leaned over to her face and licked the line of neck, stopping right at her ears. Then he bit her earlobe before wetting it with his tongue and blowing lightly on it. The shivers again. He could watch that all day. She melted into his embrace, arching towards him once again. Lando placed slow kisses on her cheek, one by one, until he got so close to her lips he could feel her breath mixing with his own. He hovered, prolonging this moment, the last seconds before it inevitably all fell down. Her chest was rising up and down rapidly. "Do it," she whispered, their lips almost touching accidentally. He waited for few moments, biting his own lip while wishing it was hers. "Not like this," he said, catching her off guard. Before she had a chance to respond, he reached over to her blindfold and removed it. Their eyes met for what felt like the first time. He saw high, excitement and a hint of fear, as she adjusted to the light and to the sight of him being so close. Reality check.

"Can I kiss you now?" he pleaded softly, staring at her, desperate for her answer.

It was all very different and very much real when she could see him. She gulped before taking the leap, falling into the trap that were his incredibly blueish green eyes.

"Yes."

[igotanidea]

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

 sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

 Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

[luvsophen]

The romanced Inquisitor and the Redeem ending (Veilguard spoilers)

I often see misunderstandings and critical comments, especially on Reddit, about the role of the Inquisitor in the redemption ending. I want to explain how I see it from a narrative designer's perspective. I'll approach the topic from a broader angle, so I ask for your patience and understanding. Long read.

To understand the ending and why the Inquisitor is written the way they are, we need to revisit Solas's motivation and psychology as presented in the game. Even in “Inquisition”, it’s clear that Solas clings to the past as if it were the ultimate truth. He asks the Inquisitor to prove him wrong, but that idea feels doomed from the start. Just as I thought ten years ago, I still believe that his primary motivation isn’t solely about his people but rather a deeply complex internal crisis. Solas is a complex and layered character, and his motivation should reflect that complexity according to all the rules of storytelling. It’s incredibly unfortunate that the story arc involving the rebellion and the spirits was cut, as this truly simplified his character and didn’t give players a chance to ponder his beliefs more deeply. But we know that this motivation exists in the background and is alive. We only hear about his motivation related to his people, that is, the spirits, in the final choice with Rook. Naturally, the fact that Bioware put his personal regrets and trauma front and center is psychologically accurate, but the player should have come to this conclusion on their own, discovering it themselves. It’s too obvious, but such are the modern trends in storytelling.

Now, regarding Lavellan. The ending with a romanced Inquisitor suffers from the same issues as the rest of the game — lack of variety and exclusive choices.

I see that some people are disappointed with the ending because the Inquisitor's love and pleas were not enough. I assure you, it was never intended to make it enough. If the Inquisitor’s love/friendship had been enough, Solas's story in “DAtV” wouldn’t have even begun. Solas is as immersed in his past as any millennia-old being could be, leaving no room for anything but his burden, guilt, and despair. Left to his own devices, he will always choose the path of least resistance to his trauma, repeating his mistakes in what he believes is for the greater good until he reaches the point of ultimate self-destruction. He is truly a broken man because of all the terrible things he has done and the horrors he has endured.

The point of the storyline was to showcase the depth of his regrets, the weight of his burden and moral downfall. The Inquisitor (friend/lover) affected him in a way that no mortal ever could. Solas runs from them, and there are objective psychological reasons for this beyond simply not wanting to hurt someone he cares about. Lavellan isn’t wrong when she says she could influence Solas. Yes, if they had years and time for such conversations, but that opportunity doesn’t exist. He doesn't leave her a choice and decides for both of them.

The logic of the ending is that you need to peel back Solas's “layers”. In the finale, Solas is deeply wounded and exhausted, and it’s the perfect moment to play on his emotions while he’s so vulnerable. From a dramaturgical perspective, the focus was correctly placed: the present, future, and past must come together to lift the burden from his shoulders, show him a new path, restore his wisdom, and give him a new purpose. This is how the writers envision his salvation without killing him or distorting his spirit.

Rook represents the present — the modern world and its people. And the modern world asks Solas for mercy, pleading with him not to destroy their lives even more, reminding him that more violence won’t make “the flowers” bloom as Solas wishes. Rook delivers the first logical blow: “Who benefits from tearing down the Veil —you or all of us? You’re lying to yourself and drowning in regrets”. Solas knows this, but knowing and accepting are different things for the psyche. That’s why Rook, as a representative of the world Solas aims to destroy for the “greater good”, steps forward first, asking him to reconsider his true motivations. And Solas does ponder. By this point, he’s already filled with doubts, born long ago, but he’s still not ready to make another choice. The massive burden of the past and a graveyard of sacrifices remain on his shoulders. Solas rejects Rook, rejects the desires and opinions of the present, the modern world, just as he always has. As he must. For now.

Then the Inquisitor steps onto the stage. Whether a friend or a lover, the Inquisitor was the first to show Solas during their time together that he was wrong, cracking his convictions. This is especially clear in the letter to his beloved Lavellan.

Look at how he acts in this scene. How he freezes upon seeing the Inquisitor, how he lowers his head and dagger, the sadness and regret on his face, the tears welling up. In Lavellan’s case, he exhales painfully: “Vhenan”. After all these years of separation and his betrayals — “My love, my heart”. For me it was a emotional moment of vulnerability.

The Inquisitor is here to give Solas two things: forgiveness, which Solas cannot grant himself, and a reminder of who he is, who he dreamed of being, offering him a choice for the future. But even these gifts may not be enough for Solas because a person trapped in the past and overwhelming regrets, committed to self-destruction and mass deaths, sees no reason to choose a different future.

He has lost all hope for it. He believes he deserves neither happiness, love, nor forgiveness. And when Lavellan says she forgives him, Solas doesn’t understand why. What’s the point of forgiveness after all he’s done? Look at his face in that scene. He can’t forgive himself. He tries to prove to himself that he doesn’t deserve forgiveness: “I lied, I betrayed you”. The contrast with his self-justifications in “Trespasser” is stark. And yet, she forgives him. It means a tremendous amount to him, and he turns away from this gift in disbelief. It will take years before he truly forgives himself.

This scene is meant to show how deeply he’s sunk into his past, into his own darkness, unable to step back even for the sake of his beloved or a friend, for another path and future. He’s filled with self-justifications.

Solas explains why Lavellan’ forgiveness isn’t enough: “And then I... and then she died for nothing”. No, not because “she/Mythal” died for nothing. Everything he’s been through, everything he’s done to the world—everything—was for nothing if he keeps the Veil. And how can he live with that? All the suffering must be justified. His millennia of fears, pain, and guilt—these are stronger than his feelings for the Inquisitor. This is realistically portrayed, even if it hurts his beloved, even if it hurts you as a player. He can’t release himself from his burden and guilt. He’s come up with a thousand justifications. You hear this throughout the game from Mythal, Ghilan'nain, Morrigan, and so on. Solas is an unreliable narrator.

The present, the future, the past. Mythal is the catalyst for everything. That’s why she has to deliver the final blow, and she breaks him. For the last time. I won’t touch on the ethics of this moment. His entire tragedy began with her; his downfall started with her. He ties all his burdens to her. She embodies all his past and all his pain. Through her more benevolent version in Morrigan, Mythal shares the burden of their joint crimes with him. She doesn’t apologize or express remorse to him but directly destroys his last justification—that it was all for her. She no longer needs it. He is free. The world has suffered for too long, Solas has suffered for too long. It is time to stop. And in the finale, there’s no time for him to create another reason to justify his “delusions” and mass deaths.

Solas no longer has the strength to fight himself, and he agrees to stop. His past, present, and future simultaneously redefine his purpose. Now he has a new goal. This suits him as a spirit bound to serve his purpose. But he can't forgive himself and that's logical. The romanced Inquisitor is here to demonstrate for him immense wisdom and generosity by mortal standards, a deep understanding of Solas's spirit, and the strength of her love for him. It should break through any rational defense of his psyche. He is seen, heard, forgiven, given hope and purpose, his fear of being alone is shattered, and he is loved so deeply that he can hardly believe it. These are all the needs and desires of Solas that we have learned about from the two games. He desperately needed it and Weekes gives it to him with the help of the Inquisitor, his beloved. This is intentional. Solas is so disoriented and broken that he can't say anything to her except to give her a choice, one last chance to turn away from him, because he himself will no longer turn away from her.

Narratively, the Inquisitor, friend or lover, represents a bridge between Solas’s past and future: a factual happy future and a new purpose if you are his lover and leave with him; or you grant him a new purpose, reminding him of who he is, if you do not leave with him or are his friend. Solas faces dangerous work both on himself and on the Blight; this is not a respite.

The Inquisitor, however, will never be freed from their religious and mythical role. This character will always be tied to that role in the story.

Lavellan here embodies almost a religious myth about the great power of love that surpasses all contradictions, a bond stronger than rational reasons. It’s pointless to rationalize, and you won’t find solace in that process — their relationship is meant to be a deeply emotional romance with an irrational, mystical and mythical connection between two lovers.

Lavellan performs a strictly narrative function here, but out of respect for those players who cannot associate themselves with such an Inquisitor, there should technically have been an option to not go with him into the Fade right in that scene, instead of at the tavern.

Narratively, the writers are concluding the arc involving the story of the Evanuris, Solas, the Blight, and the Veil. Above all, the writers focused more on this overarching narrative than on how to incorporate the player's various choices into the plot. Therefore, the canonical character of the Inquisitor takes precedence here — that's how the writers envision this character.

Canonically, The Inquisitor like the HoF, is a hero with a specific, grand purpose in the plot. This is a character who brings order to a world on the brink of madness. They think on a global scale and resolve global conflicts. They don’t create problems, they solve them. The same approach is shown with Solas. He is both a global and personal problem for Lavellan. Solas forces the Inquisitor (any of them) to endure a lot of pain and unpleasantness, turning their life upside down.

Lavellan’s resentments, wounded pride, and sorrow may later be expressed or dealt with differently, but right now, the fate of not only Solas but the world is being decided (quarrels will not help anyone solve the task on a global scale; Lavellan will not be petty, nor will she be too proud, just as she won't think of herself first when faced with the world's fate; she will only think about it once the world is no longer in danger). Lavellan cannot convince Solas, but will keep trying with the influence she has.

Personally, I believe that this type of love (type of the lover) is exactly what Solas needs for his personal growth.

The Inquisitor offers him forgiveness and understanding because that is their role here — to be above it, to be wiser than Solas, to show more mercy, patience, and understanding toward others’ nature and spirit than Solas ever did toward the modern world and mortals. And this is especially valuable for the narrative. Mortals (Rook, the Inquisitor, Morrigan) give Solas what he couldn’t get in the past: the freedom to be himself, and salvation and/or love. This idea is even repeated in the game’s cut files.

According to interviews, Bioware wanted to level the playing field so that any player with any world state/choices could choose the redemption ending — I'm not a fan of this decision from the perspective of character development, but after all, this is a game, not a book story.

I’m not too critical of the Solavellan ending, even though I’m not a Solasmancer; I just like him as an antagonist and a character. I don't find the ending with his solo redemption psychologically credible. I'm sorry they didn't add at least Cole to the game to help him on this painful journey.

In my opinion, Solavellan ending is the best thing that happened in the game for Solas (and in his whole life). At least somewhere, he was given happiness and something he didn’t even dare to hope for.

The game itself is a big disappointment in terms of narrative, but I don’t want to criticize Bioware too much without knowing the reasons why it turned out this way. And for this reason, you should try to look beyond the execution and focus on the content and context of the story to understand the writer’s intent.

Thank you for reading to the end!

[thatnonameuser]

You said something about Azul's darling having children healing his childhood trauma. ANGST WARNING!! AND BULLYING!

This gave me an idea, he was bullied for being slow and different from other kids from the original plot. In this yandere au, that can be twisted into how he's such a loser, he'll probably never be good enough for a darling to accept him. He's so fat, not even a kind and pitiful darling, would want him. How the other mers think he's so stupid that he'd fumble trying to catch his darling and that they'll just be claimed by another, cooler, yandere. Laughing at him all the while so and flexing how their wonderful talents and skills would be enough to steal away a darling's heart, unlike him.

I can imagine how much this'll break his self esteem and brand him as a "weak yandere" to the other fishies. Azul would strive to be the opposite of all this, he would plan to take away their special abilities to "win a darling over" and make it his own, as his unique magic forms through sheer spite. He's so jaded and the thoughts of not being good enough to have a darling still ingrained in him. He probably won't fall in love with MC until after his overblot. Having the internal belief that, no darling would want a loser like him.. He probably won't care that MC is a darling at first and is just planning to use her as leverage against the other yanderes. Hence, taking over her only place to live. It benefits him as well since he'll be able to open another branch of the Mostro lounge and attract the other yanderes.

But then something changes. MC does something while they are inside the blot space. He realizes that.. she sees more in him than anyone ever had. Even if MC says so only in passing cause she's reasonably pissed- He can't help but focus on those specific words, ignoring the rest of her rant. Suddenly, he feels whole, and he knows she doesn't want to share this feeling with anyone. Suddenly...

He's already drafting a contract after their visit in the coral sea museum, giggling to himself as he marks that day their first date....

I hope you find this idea as interesting as I did!! I love Azul 😁

I really love asks for the yandereverse, because there are so many ways that the charas’ backstories can change. Azul’s bullying making him insecure when it comes to his darling is perfect, and it kind of works with how the Coral Sea sees yanderes and darlings. I also love Azul, I love me an evil mafia man.

The Coral Sea is an anti-darling rights area, so yanderes have more freedom to do what they want in order to take their darlings for themselves. And yanderes are supposed to be strong and tough, how else do they keep their darlings safe and with them? The kids of the Coral Sea know that well. 

And Azul wasn’t that. He was slow, and weak and a scaredy-catfish crybaby who hid inside a pot. HE was supposed to be a yandere? That was genuinely surprising to nearly all his former classmates. And they made sure he knew that. Their teasing was relentless….

‘Are you sure they weren’t wrong? You’re not supposed to be slow and stupid if you’re like us.’

‘He’ll probably lose his darling.’

‘I’d hate to be them, he’s so fat and icky.’

….And at the same time they rub salt into the wound. After all, they’re fast and strong and smart and talented and good looking. They’ll get their darlings no problem, while he will be left alone and broken hearted watching his darling being with someone else. All the bullying broke him down over a while, he started to think it was right. 

But despite all the bullying, Azul still tries his hardest to stop being the weak yandere his peers deemed him as. And in a form of vengeance, he’ll take away the special abilities they shoved in his face to remind him how inferior he was, After all, the yanderes that bullied him have their own insecurities that they want to hide from their darlings, so he’ll take their very best away to make himself better for his future darling. He’ll make himself better so that whoever he falls for won’t have to be disgusted by him. (While making his bullies as disgusting to their darlings as they said he’d be .)

But… He just can’t forget the years of bullying ingrained into him. What darling would want him? What darling would love him when he’s just a dim-witted octopus? That denial blinds him up till when he finally meets you. 

Once he’s aware of you being a darling he sees the opportunity, not love. (Because he doesn’t deserve you, so why bother?). After all, what would all your yanderes do or pay to have you for themselves? No price is too high when it comes to a darling, and so, getting you under his thumb is his first priority. Getting you out of Ramshackle and under his control/ownership will make this so much easier. But there’s one big problem. 

You won’t sign his contracts. You told him you’d rather never go home than sign one. I imagine after that point, he starts trying to find loopholes to get you to sign. And your friends are his best bet. So he tricks Ace, Deuce and Grim into being indebted to him, so that you’ll feel obligated to help them. But that didn’t work, because (to be honest, you’re grateful for the alone time) you just let them be stuck in a contract with him. Fortunately, Crowley got involved and you had to go into a contract with him. 

But unfortunately, instead of accepting his offer to stay at Octavinelle till the time limit was up, you proceeded to stay over in Savanaclaw. He’d never been more angry before in his life. The idea of you sleeping with and doing seven-only-knows with those beasts never made him more jealous. The smell of Leona Kingscholar on your skin made him want to add onto the debt the prince owed in vengeance. 

But not wanting to spoil anything more, in the blot space your attempts to pull him out of his self-loathing, change him. He sees that you care about him, that you don’t think he’s a not a stupid, ugly octopus and that instead you see him as something more. Someone who’s hardworking, intelligent, and even cute. And that moment, he truly realizes his love for you. You’re not like the others, you see something in him that no one ever had before. He doesn’t get that you’re saying it only for the sake of your, and maybe a little of his, life. Those words echo in his head. You love him, all his bullies were wrong, his darling isn’t disgusted by him. He feels whole….

…..And he doesn’t want to share this feeling. This complete joy.

He needs you to be his. He’ll draft another contract, one intended to make sure no one else will ever be able to steal you from him and ensure you’ll be by his side, on the land and in the sea. The museum will be like a date to him, hearing your kind words about his childhood appearance makes that younger self cry with joy.

You, quite literally, became the center of his world. And he intends to hold that same place as he becomes a part of your world. Whether you like it or not.

[writerspirit]

Dance With Me, My Melancholy Baby

Pairing(s): Avis Amberg x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Both you and Avis have a long day.

Themes/Warnings: 18+, implied smut, fluff, angst, sad/anxious reader and Avis

A/N: I thought I’d try writing comforting Avis and Y/n. The title is inspired by Ella Fitzgerald’s My Melancholy Baby. Thank you, @delusionalforolderwomen for reading first! Working on other wips for now. Enjoy!

WC: 1.84k

Taglist: @live-laugh-love-lupone @lalchimiedecupid

— — — —

Music sings through the radio. The melodic rhythm of the song gently wakes you from your slumber. Light beams in through the curtains, splaying its warmth upon your face.

A chuckle beside you prompts you to open your eyes. A reflection of the brightness from the light, Avis’ lively brown orbs take in your sleepy ones.

“You’re radiant in the morning, dear.”

Your eyes scan her features—her wild curls, her bare face. The sunlight spotlighting her features as though she is an art piece, and you are the historian, inspecting each of her features through your microscopic orbs.

“Only in the morning?” Your voice raspy with exhaustion hits Avis’ ears like fresh morning dew against a dry freshly-cut lawn.

She leans down, placing a few gentle kisses against your chest, still barren from the activities of the night prior. Her lips send shivers down your spine, tickling the sensitive skin.

“Good morning, Avis.” A stifled giggle leaves your lips.

Her lips, unrelenting, continue their adventure down your body. Giggles are exchanged between you. Every kiss sends tingles through your body.

Your hands bring themselves to her cheeks. Your thumbs feel over her skin, as if trying to memorize each and every pore across her flesh.

“Was last night not enough?” 

“With you, dear, it’s never enough.” Her words spill sweetly from her lips. A complete contrast to the harsh dominance of her words last night.

Her lips come to a patch of swollen, bruised skin. A small groan is heard from you. “Did I go too hard last night?”

You giggle. “I’m not complaining. Although, Ellen might when I show up doubled-over in pain for my screen test later on.”

You feel Avis’ smile against your skin. She lightly nibbles at you. “What can I say, dear? I like others to see what’s mine.”

You giggle. “The makeup artist is going to have to cover my whole body with how wild you were last night.”

Avis pulls herself up next to you. Her elbow holds her up to see you. “Can you blame me? You looked ravishing in that dress. It’s a wonder you were in it for as long as you were.”

You pull her in for a kiss. One not of desperation, nor need. A right, morning kiss to start the day. Surrendering under your touch, Avis lets out a soft moan. Her tongue lightly swipes across your lips, asking for entrance.

You part your lips, immediately feeling her tongue’s exploration of your mouth. Her hands find themselves at either side of your head, steadying her from falling on top of you. Avis parts from you, earning a sigh.

“Are you hungry, darling?”

“You can say that.” Your cheeky grin shines through. Your hand makes a slow trail down Avis’ body. Your journey ends when your hand grazes her front, stopping before she can feel you where she wants you most.

“Darling, teasing won’t be wise for you,” she growls. Her lips hover over your ears. “It’d be a shame for me to have to punish you so early in the morning.”

You whine. “Avis…”

“What, darling? Too much already?”

“You and I both know that once we get started, that’s all we’ll do today. I really need to be ready for the screen test later.”

Avis scoffs. “You are prepared for it. You and Ellen have been going over the lines for days. I’ve even heard a little of it from her office. You’re golden.”

“Even so,” you place a peck on her lips. “Your confidence in my abilities doesn’t hold a candle to my belief in my own self-sabotage.”

Avis’ smile falls into a slight frown. “Why are you being so cynical about this? You’ve had screen tests before, and each time you’ve been a dream.”

“And how many of those screen tests led to the role I’ve aimed for?”

Avis quiets, succumbing to the heft of the reality of your circumstances. She shifts in discomfort.

“There have been whispers, Avis. Whispers of me. Who I am. What I am.”

Avis gasps. Lowly, yet loud enough that your heart breaks in defeat. Your shoulders slump, along with your face as the weight of your anxiety takes over.

Avis’ hands reach for you, pulling you into her lap. You don’t fight her, as you know if you did, you’d likely lose. Your head lay on her chest, while her hand strokes your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” your voice breaks, along with the dam you’d held up for the past few weeks. “I really, really want this, Avis.”

There’s a quietness that fills the room, both you and Avis being shaken up. And in a moment, a sniffle is heard from the older woman. Another moment passes, and again, a sniffle is heard by her. The hand smoothing your hair comes up to her face, wiping away the tears that have escaped her.

“Why don’t you go get ready for the day? I’ll be sure to have breakfast here for you when you’re freshened and ready for the day.”

You nod, slipping from her grasp. You grab the bed sheet and wrap it around your body. “You won’t be here after I shower?”

“I should be heading out myself. I have a long day ahead.”

You nod, almost unnoticed by Avis.

“Will I see you later?”

“Maybe,” you utter, disappointment seeping through you.

Not unnoticed by Avis, her heart breaks for you. Frustration and worry fills her, as she hasn’t heard any of these whispers you speak of. 

How could she not have? Avis Amberg has eyes and ears all over the studio, so how could she not have heard about this? More importantly, how could she not recognize the worry from you? The woman who knew your body like the back of her hand—your tells, every blemish, freckle, birthmark��why hadn’t she suspected anything?

“Well, go get together, doll.” Avis walks over to you, placing a small kiss on your lips before starting to gather her items.

— — — —

“Ellen, hello.” Avis sets herself next to the older woman. Both ladies look at you getting ready for your screen test. Straightening your dress, which you’ve done a few times already, you feel the clam of your hands. Worried that you may have spread your sweat through your dress, you curse under your breath.

Avis feels your anxiety radiating off of you, now mixing with her own. The energy goes noticed by Ellen, who reads over Avis’ unusual demeanor.

Ever the polite woman, Ellen sends her a kind smile. “Avis, dear, how are you?”

Avis smiles, unable to speak due to the sudden restriction of her throat catching.

“She’s ready for this. Right?” Avis’ eyes turn to Ellen, who immediately sees the water coating her friend’s eyes.

Ellen gives her a gentle nod. “She is.”

“She needs this.” Desperation seeps through her words. “I don’t know if she’ll survive this industry if she doesn’t get it.”

Ellen brings a gentle hand to Avis’ shoulder, giving a squeeze. “She’s an overcomer. I’m sure she’ll get the opportunity she deserves. I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t feel the same.”

— — — —

Avis sits at her desk, reading through a script for a possible film. A knock takes her out of her focus. “Come in.”

You walk in, the morning’s gloom still prominent in the hesitance of your actions. “Am I disrupting work?”

Avis sighs. “I surely hope so,” she quips. “This script is nothing short of garbage. This day has exhausted my patience.” She rises from her chair, and moves to meet you at the door.

“Come in, dear. Don’t be shy.”

You close the door behind you. Arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against her. The warmth of her breath causes hairs on the back of your neck to rise. Her lips press softly against your skin.

“How was your day?”

You slowly turn in her arms, now facing her. Rather than an answer, you look down, lowering your head. Your arms run up and down her arms that hold you.

“No, I haven’t heard anything regarding your screen test,” her words are cutting, but you understand that Avis has trouble separating the boss and lover roles at times. “I know your mind is set on it right now.”

“I think I did good. They were smiling before I was excused.”

She gives you a smile. “Good, dollface. That’s good.”

You faux a grin that not even you would buy. Avis places a kiss to your temple, and unwraps her arms around you, making you sigh. She makes her way to her desk, pulling together the loose papers and stacking them.

“Have you eaten lunch?”

You shake your head, expecting a scoff from the woman. On the contrary, her face lights up with excitement. “Well then, why don’t we get a bite down at the café? You can tell me all about it.”

“Work,” you mumble.

“Can hold off for a while. I deserve a break too. What do you say?”

You nod, earning a smile from her. 

— — — —

Avis stares in awestruck at you going on about your day with every detail you can spare. As if your words are a cliff, and her heart is holding on, she never wants to let go. 

Suddenly, Avis’ face gets flushed with the realization—she never wants to let go. 

Oh dear.

She clears her throat with a sip of her cocktail. “You’ve hardly touched your food, dear. It’s going to get cold with your rambling.” 

— — — —

The day’s events suddenly wash away for the time being, awaiting your attention tomorrow. And again, a melody sings from the radio—a love song—as if just for you and Avis. 

Avis lay on the couch, a cigarette between two fingers, and a martini glass in her other hand. She watches as you dance along to the music. Like prey to her eyes, she can’t help but gawk at the scene in front of her, playing for her and her alone.

“Dance with me?” Your hands reach for her. Her eyes taking in every inch of you, raking up and down your figure, she sits back weighing her options of either enjoying your performance from a far, or feeling you under her touch. “Please, Avis? Dance with me as if the world was watching.”

She stalks over to you, making sure to take her time in her efforts, hoping not to disregard a second of this. Getting closer, she reaches out for you, gently placing her hands on your waist.

“I lead, darling.” Her words are commanding, yet soft. An opposite of her usual dominant tone. The corner of her mouth quirked. “When we dance, I lead.”

You comply, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, placing your hand on her back. Your other hand finds hers, which she brings closely to her chest. She places a kiss to your lips before your bodies start to slowly sway with the music.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you, Avis.”

[tiramisuwithmascarpone]

Hello! I'm a 15-year-old devotee of both Lord Hermes and Lady Aphrodite who is raised in an extremely Orthodox Christian household, and I would like to share my story with you ⋆˚ʚɞ

Hi! for safety reasons I will not use the name I usually use online for this account, but you can call me Jellyfish. I live in Eastern Europe, more exactly Romania, a country whose population is 98% devoted to Christianity at the time of speaking. My mother is a perfect example. She wholeheartedly believes in God, I grew up with pictures of him and the Holy Mary all over the walls, which I wouldn't escape even at my grandparent's houses. My house always smelled of myrrh, I would carry a picture of God everywhere I went, I would pray to him before bed, go to church on every holiday, but I never felt fulfilled or connected to him in any way. I didn't truly know what I believed in. My mother was telling me all about how should I praise God, but I don't think I ever did it because I wanted to or felt connected to what she was telling me or felt like it was the life I wanted to live. When she would fight with my father, even now, she would threaten that she would run away to a monastery and become a nun. She thinks you cannot change your religion and you can not be Christian if you were born with Christian parents and raised in that environment. I did not have faith in God because I wanted to and felt connected to his message and wanted to worship his divine being, I did it because my mother felt that way. And that destroyed me.

As I grew older, I started believing less and less in God. I was struggling with going through teenagehood, fighting my own inner battles, and dealing with friendship that slowly felt like they were taking away my lifespan, and it wasn't just that I didn't have faith in a divine being (which is completely alright. Please do not believe this monologue is Anti-Christian, I believe everyone is allowed to believe and worship the one who they feel most connected and inclined towards.) I didn't have faith in anything anymore. When my brother reached 15, he hated my parents for their beliefs. I will not get much I detail since his story is not mine to tell, but he had battled with alcohol and substance abuse. And I was his only shoulder for him and my parents to lean and cry on. My mother told me to pray for our family, she would pray to god every day, light up myrrh, take me to churches, and I would feel miserable. I felt like an imposter in that church. I truly wanted to have faith in a god, anyone, but I felt like my only choice was God since that's what my mother taught me. Both my parents trust God so I cannot be different, can I?

How foolish I was. I can only look back to my past self and wish to embrace and hold her till she cries all her sorrow out. She was so confused.

Back in 2022, I had first heard of Aphrodite. My brother was sent to a mental hospital for his substance abuse when they caught him on the verge of overdosing. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder after a suicide attempt, autism and ADHD, but my father (who already couldn't accept the fact that my brother has ADHD) fought with them saying they ,,don't know me well enough" and,,there's nothing wrong with me". And he's right, there's nothing wrong with me. Not even If I am neurodivergent. I was at my lowest, I felt disgusting, I fought with my parents and was their therapist every single day, I stopped going to school, I was a mess. But, I was heavily active on social media because I had tons of online friends. While scrolling on tiktok, I found a video of an Aphrodite devotee. My interest was piqued. I heard about Greek Mythology before but never actually researched it. I liked the video and commented, talking about how gorgeous their faith sounds, and that's when it all started. I started getting more info about Aphrodite, the swans swum by me every time I would go to the lake with my family so we could ,,get some fresh air". I started getting lots of pins on Pinterest with her. I always had a desire for water and the beach was my safe place, where I felt fulfilled and free from all I'm feeling. I had a Dove make itself a nest on a tree next to the window of my classroom which I would always sit by while having lunch (on the rare occasions I would drop by to school). I started researching more about Lady Aphrodite, loving her story, beliefs, ways of worshipping, how it felt like silence was washing over me when I would make a non-physical offering to her. Her tales. The way it felt like she was always there to give me a warm hug and squeeze me while I was crying. I also felt a boost in my confidence! I started loving my features, taking care of myself again, etc. It wasn't always just sun and rainbows, I would still have breakdowns and wish it would all just end and all that, but it was more bearable with her. She made my life more bearable. I love, worship, and adore Lady Aphrodite for that. I worshipped her till this year when I officially felt strong enough to devote myself to her.

This year, actually, I started noticing my strong connection to Hermes. I was always attracted to the kind-hearted, mischievous, kind-hearted, highly intelligent and funny thieves. I always idolized them and wished to be like them. That's how I feel about Lord Hermes. I feel like he was reaching out to me all my life. Everything he is associated with I had an inexplicable obsession with for pretty much all my life. Turtles, golden or silver, travel, learning new languages, astronomy, astrology, everything you could think of. I have been devoted to him since last month, that's when I officially started labeling myself as a Hellenic Pagan, but I am still a beginner, and I need to hide all of this from my mother since I am afraid of what she would do if she were to find out I have another belief since she reacted super badly back when I was an atheist :( I set up the first altar for Lady Aphrodite, and the second one for Lord Hermes. I always had been an artistic soul and loved making my room all pretty randomly so I told my mother this is one of those cases and she believed it. She does not know english and is not at all cultured about any beliefs besides Christians, Muslims, and Jews. They are both hidden in my closet. I feel very bad for not being able to make them a bigger and more obvious altar, I hope I'll have that chance when I move out from my parent's house..

I wanted to ask if Lord Hermes would be mad if my mom kept setting random things on his altar? she even put a picture of the Holy Mary. I moved it to the other side of the closet and made a DIY necklace for him out of orange garnet or beads to apologize to him, and he didn't seem mad, but I'm not sure...I sketched drawings of both of them and rested them on their altars. Everything you see are either offerings I heard they may like or things that reminded me of them! the little notebook on Hermes's altar is specifically made for learning new languages and thought he would enjoy it. Do you guys think any of my offerings are disrespectful? or should be removed? I'm open to any advice! Thank you for listening to my story <3

[rustbeltjessie]

I haven’t made a pinned post in a while, but since it’s my birthday month and I’m struggling right now, I figured it’s a good time to make one.

First, let me introduce myself. I’m Jessie Lynn McMains, aka Rust Belt Jessie. I’m a writer (poetry and prose), artist, zine-maker, spoken word performer, occasional musician, small press publisher, and general jack of several creative trades. I’m queer—bi/mspec and nonbinary (I use they/them, she/her, and he/him pronouns). I’m disabled and neurodivergent, and the parent of two kiddos. Politically? Well, I consider myself an anarchist at heart, but I still vote in every election. I think everyone should be able to have enough food, and a safe place to live, and yeah, even a few ‘unnecessary,’ fun things, just by virtue of being alive. As for the rest of my beliefs, you can probably garner a general idea if you peruse my blog even a little.

Now, onto the nitty-gritty. We had about ten days between when our last month’s food money ran out and when this month’s came in. It has been refilled as of today, so I don’t have to worry about that for the moment, but because of that gap, I had to spend money I’d set aside for other stuff on food. I paid our rent and energy bill for the month, but I’m a couple months overdue on our Internet bill, and I don’t want to risk that getting shut off. And then, well, it’s December. I’m trying to buy my kids some Christmas presents, and it’s not just my birthday month—my youngest kiddo’s birthday is four days before Christmas. Because of all this, I’m also way behind on writing stuff. I owe my zine subscribers a new issue (I didn’t send anything at all in November), and I’m trying to finish up some pieces to record for my new spoken word EP, but I’ve had to focus on day job and side-hustle stuff that’s more immediately lucrative, so I haven’t been able to dedicate much time to finishing these projects.

If you’d like to throw some $$ my way so I can get some gifts for my kiddos, keep my Internet on, get back to my writing, and maybe have a less-stressful birthday month than I did last year, I have V*nmo (JessieLynnMcMains) and P*yp*l (coeur.de.fantome [at] gmail[dot]com).

But hey, hey, I’m not just asking for something for nothing! I have a lot of stuff available on Ko-fi (rustbeltjessie), including print books and zines, ebooks and zines, and pins, and you can also hire me as an editor or commission a custom mini-collage. And almost everything is sliding scale/pay-what-you-can, some with a minimum price, others starting at $0.

And that zine subscription? It’s still not too late to get in on it, even though the year is almost over. If you sign up now, you’ll receive all previous issues, along with this month’s when it’s finished, and the final two will be mailed out in January.

Or perhaps you’d like to buy or commission something I don’t officially have for sale. Maybe you’d like to buy one of my existing pieces of art? Or commission a custom pin, designed by me, based on the band/film/fandom/whatever of your choice? Or commission a custom postcard poem/art piece, on the subject of your choice? Or have me write you a custom mini-zine, on the subject of your choice? I can do all those things! DM me, and we’ll work something out!

Oh, and I mentioned above that I was working on a new spoken word EP? Go check out my full-length spoken word album, Self-Portrait With Ghosts and Trains, which was released by Hello America Stereo Cassette in July 2021. You can find it at helloamerica.bandcamp.com. (I do get royalties from that release periodically, but it’s not as immediate as if you purchase something directly from me.)

All that said, I know times are tough for most people right now, so please don’t feel obligated to purchase anything or otherwise send money my way. And, as always, even just a few dollars helps, as does reblogging/boosting this post. 🖤

[acesw]

The Grecos, Schneider, and her Religious Trauma

One of the characters I really find interesting is Schneider. There are strong signs that she has religious trauma, which ties really well with the neglect she's experienced growing up and the way this trauma reflects her behaviors and words.

The Grecos are known to be really religious, and they're quite devout to Christianity as a means of life. It does not mean that they wouldn't do things to ensure that they're able to at least eat. Living in Chicago of all places is already one struggle enough, making sure they get by despite having bad relationships with gangs adds so much.

Prior to moving, they were more devoted to God as coming from a community in Sicily. They moved because of how bad the poverty situation had been (the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s), hoping to seek a better life in America. Of all places though, they moved to Chicago, where there were crimes and gangs all about. This resulted to the Grecos having to pull strings to keep their head up the water, and they still practice Christianity as a means to maintain morale.

We then have Schneider. The youngest and most neglected child of the Grecos. She was barely fed and paid attention to among her 11 older sisters. The Narrator also notes that she was even neglected from the start, as she turned a year old before her father realized she wasn't baptized.

Now, there are two main instances that showcase Schneider's religious trauma peeking through are the traces "From One Castle to Another" and "Long Night Trip". Both of which are very much talking about Schneider's past. There are parts of the dialogue that stick out to me.

-From One Castle to Another

"It's impossible to keep every child well-fed. Schneider could not even get a piece of bread in the Eucharist. But a good daughter would not let anyone worry about her. She sat on the bench outside the church and hummed. She found a way out for herself."

"The Grecos are among them. They're covered by the dark cloud of long-handed umbrellas. [...] But you can't find Schneider. [...] It rains heavier. The priest opens his arms to embrace the sky, 'The Lord be with you.' " " 'And also with you.' Schneider responds in a voice that could hardly be heard. She puts her hand on her heart. This is the first time she responds to the Lord. And it will be the last."

-Long Night Trip

The Narrator talks about Schneider's slow descent into losing her faith in these conversations. She used to pray and hope that God would fix things and give an answer for her and her family's suffering. And all that happened was that it got worse.

It only ever makes Schneider question and doubt, and eventually she stops believing in God. But everyone around her, her family in particular, still maintains their strong belief that he'd guide them out of struggle. Meanwhile, she take things into her own hands for that matter.

And again, everyone would resort to praying, praying, and praying. Yet Schneider wouldn't dare try. Because if he listened to her this one time then they heard all the other times and never cared to help. That rubs salt in the wound.

So with this, we see how Schneider creates her newfound identity. She starts frequenting underground markets and doing certain odd jobs. She is able to make amends with other gang leaders and grow her own strong faction in Chicago.

All so she makes enough money for the rest of her family to eat and thrive. It showcases her sense of selflessness, her full care for her family despite how they treated her. She cares for them more than anything, because even with barely receiving love, they're the ones that raised her. Schneider actively does it all to prove that she can give.

Even in the main story there are those hints of that trauma seeping through. Throughout the game she refers to her bosses as "My Lord", a name that's usually reserved for God.

In the 'Green Oranges' segment of chapter 2, we see that Schneider's younger self describes America as a new world. A place of wonders, where blessings will be given and all sins will be forgiven. There, "God loves the world". Because back in Sicily, she believes that God does not love her and her family here. This ties back to the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s, where again, the poverty situation had been so bad. Not to mention the overpopulation and the natural disasters that came with it.

Meanwhile, her adult self is heavily injured from the gunshot wounds and Vertin stops shooting her. She expresses her frustration of being unable to die fast, which then turns to this: "Or did God finally forgive me...He allowed me...to stay alive!!"

"God would never make or guide one to that first action," Schneider thinks, because only she alone did it. She decided to step in, with no guidance of the God she once loved. The God that never forgave her.

The entirety of chapter 1 and 2 shows that her trauma runs really deep. The youngest and most neglected child turns into the most diligent and faithless Greco. She expresses her clear disdain for God, and does everything in her own power to do what "he never did for her and her family."

[hrizantemy]

What did she deserve?

For so long, Nesta had believed she deserved nothing. Nothing but the emptiness, the isolation. She had told herself, time and again, that her existence was a mistake, a burden. What was there for her, after everything she had done? After the mistakes, the anger, the bitterness that had poisoned everything around her?

She should have died. She used to think that, with a conviction that had driven her to dark places. That the world would be better without her. That the people she had hurt, the people she had pushed away, would be better off without the weight of her presence.

It wasn’t just the memories of that time; it was the constant reminder that she had failed so many—her family, her people, even herself. When she closed her eyes, it wasn’t the laughter or the good times she remembered. It was the yelling. The coldness. The disappointment. It was the sharp sting of guilt that never seemed to fade, the feeling that she would never be enough, no matter how hard she tried.

For a long time, Nesta had thought that death was an escape. A way to end the agony of being a shadow in her own life, of being a person who only took up space. She had been so certain, so sure, that the world would be lighter without her in it.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted. A small spark of something she couldn’t name had kept her from that final step. And that spark, no matter how weak it felt at times, refused to go out.

What did she deserve?

She still didn’t have the answer, but maybe, just maybe, it was something more than silence. Something more than pain. She had a lot to make up for—she knew that. She had a long road ahead, and the journey wasn’t going to be easy, but for the first time in a long time, she felt the faintest stir of hope that maybe she was worthy of something more than she had allowed herself to believe.

Maybe she deserved to live. Maybe she deserved something like peace. Maybe she even deserved love—though she had no idea how to accept it or what it might look like. But she would find out, one step at a time. She would have to. Because what else was there to do but move forward?

At least, that’s what she told herself, even if she wasn’t entirely sure she believed it yet.

Nesta didn’t truly believe it. She couldn’t. The doubt was too deep, too ingrained in her. But that didn’t mean she stopped hearing it. Because she did hear it. She heard it every time Taryn spoke, every time she said something kind, something that didn’t come with a catch or a look of pity. Taryn’s words were always steady, always filled with conviction, as though she genuinely believed Nesta deserved something more than the endless self-loathing she had carried for years.

It wasn’t just the words themselves—it was the certainty with which they were delivered. Taryn never faltered when she spoke to Nesta, never looked away or hesitated. She said what she believed, and it was enough to make Nesta question her own narrative, the one she had crafted for so long, the one that had kept her trapped in darkness.

“You’re worth it,” Taryn would say. “You’re not broken. You’re not a mistake.”

Those words echoed in her mind, louder and louder with each passing day, as if Taryn’s belief in her was strong enough to outlast her own doubt.

But Nesta couldn’t shake the disbelief. She couldn’t imagine it was true. She had been too damaged, too far gone for too long. But still, Taryn’s words lingered, even in the silence between them. They wouldn’t let her completely forget, wouldn’t let her stop wondering if, just maybe, there was something she was missing.

Cassian’s words lingered in Nesta’s mind like an echo she couldn’t escape. “I don’t know why your sisters love you.”

She didn’t have the answer. She didn’t know why Feyre and Elain had loved her, not truly. She never understood why anyone would. She wasn’t someone worth loving, not in her eyes. Not after everything she had done, the ways she had pushed them all away, the bitterness she had held onto for so long. But then there was Taryn, and Nesta couldn’t figure that one out either.

Taryn had said it before, had told her that she loved her. She had said it with such conviction that it felt like the air around them had shifted every time. Taryn said it in the morning, with a soft smile and sleepy eyes, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She said it before bed, every night, as if she needed Nesta to hear it one more time before she could sleep. Taryn said it when Nesta was leaving, when she was walking out the door, as if there was no question that she’d be back, as if there was no reason not to. And Taryn said it when Nesta came back, with the same unshakable certainty, as though Nesta’s return was the most normal thing in the world.

It was different. So different from anything she had ever felt. Taryn spoke it with the same intensity every time, no hesitation, no doubt. As if Nesta were something to be cherished. Worshipped. Genuinely loved.

And Nesta couldn’t grasp it. She couldn’t understand it, not when she had never been able to see herself that way. How could Taryn love her like that, with such certainty? How could anyone love someone like her? But Taryn never faltered, never pulled back. She said it, again and again, as if it were truth.

Cassian’s words lingered in Nesta’s mind like an echo she couldn’t escape. “I don’t know why your sisters love you.”

She didn’t have the answer. She didn’t know why Feyre and Elain had loved her, not truly. She never understood why anyone would. She wasn’t someone worth loving, not in her eyes. Not after everything she had done, the ways she had pushed them all away, the bitterness she had held onto for so long. But then there was Taryn, and Nesta couldn’t figure that one out either.

Taryn had said it before, had told her that she loved her. She had said it with such conviction that it felt like the air around them had shifted every time. Taryn said it in the morning, with a soft smile and sleepy eyes, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She said it before bed, every night, as if she needed Nesta to hear it one more time before she could sleep. Taryn said it when Nesta was leaving, when she was walking out the door, as if there was no question that she’d be back, as if there was no reason not to. And Taryn said it when Nesta came back, with the same unshakable certainty, as though Nesta’s return was the most normal thing in the world.

It was different. So different from anything she had ever felt. Taryn spoke it with the same intensity every time, no hesitation, no doubt. As if Nesta were something to be cherished. Worshipped. Genuinely loved.

And Nesta couldn’t grasp it. She couldn’t understand it, not when she had never been able to see herself that way. How could Taryn love her like that, with such certainty? How could anyone love someone like her? But Taryn never faltered, never pulled back. She said it, again and again, as if it were truth.

Even if she didn’t say it often, Taryn knew. And Taryn would wait for the day when she could hear it again.

Nesta walked along the Sidra, her steps slow and deliberate, the bag of books swinging gently in her hand. The scent of the river mixed with the crisp evening air, and for once, she didn’t feel rushed. It had been a long day, one filled with the familiar hum of the bookstore, the rustle of pages, and the occasional, welcome silence that came when customers found their way into their own worlds.

The books she carried were new — a mix of stories she’d been meaning to read, some old classics, and others she picked up simply because they felt like something she needed in that moment. She had grown fond of reading in the quiet hours after work, when the world around her slowed down enough for her to escape into someone else’s life, someone else’s pain, someone else’s triumphs. The weight of the bag felt like a quiet reminder of how far she’d come — from the days when books had been the last thing she wanted to hold, to now, when they were one of the few things she knew could help her make sense of her own scattered thoughts.

As she walked, Nesta thought about the day. She didn’t really talk to many people at work. She liked it that way, liked the solitude that came with shelving books or helping a customer find exactly what they were looking for. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was hers. It was stable, and it was enough.

She passed the small shops along the Sidra, the ones that glowed in the evening light, their windows framed by the glow of lanterns. She didn’t stop to browse, her mind too preoccupied with thoughts that swirled like the water by her side. She thought about the life she was building, how much it had changed in the past year.

Nesta hadn’t seen Feyre or Elain since Solstice. No letters had been sent either. For a moment, she’d considered writing to them, inviting them out again, maybe to a tavern or to spend time together. But the thought faded as quickly as it came, overshadowed by the memory of all the times she had reached out before, only to be met with rejection. The silence from them had been a constant reminder of the distance that had grown between them.

To be honest, Nesta was tired. Tired of being the one to try, of always putting herself out there and never receiving what she needed in return. It felt like the weight of their absence was too much to carry, and she was done bearing it alone. She didn’t need to fight for their attention anymore.

Nesta knew she hadn’t been the easiest to deal with. She had been cruel, she admitted that to herself. Her words were sharp, biting, meant to hurt. Every time she had lashed out, it was like she was trying to keep people at a distance, even those she cared about most. She didn’t know how to show vulnerability, how to ask for what she needed without fear of being let down. So, she shut people out, and in doing so, she pushed them away.

She owed Feyre an apology, and perhaps Elain too. She hadn’t given them a chance to show they could be anything more than what she had assumed. She had seen their love and concern as pity, or worse, as a reminder of her own failures, but maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe she had failed them by not seeing them for who they truly were, by not acknowledging their care as something pure and genuine.

Despite everything, Nesta knew she didn’t deserve the way she had been treated, not by her sisters, not by the so-called family she had. The veiled insults, the passive-aggressive comments—those had been there, hanging in the air like a cloud she couldn’t escape. When her sisters had tried to stop them, their attempts were often ignored, as if their voices didn’t matter. Yet, when she had lashed out, when she had finally reached her breaking point, it was always her fault. She was the one to blame.

But, as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t believe she deserved that treatment. Not anymore. Taryn had told her she didn’t deserve to be treated like she was less than, like she didn’t matter. And even though Nesta had wanted to argue against it, to believe the awful things she had told herself for so long—that she had been a wretch, a leech, that she deserved every cruel word thrown her way—something inside her questioned if that was truly the case. Did she deserve to be cast aside, to be treated as nothing more than a burden? Did she?

She didn’t have the answer, not yet.

But she was trying—really trying—to be better. That had to count for something.

Nesta turned into a small café, the kind tucked away on a quieter side street, its warm glow spilling out onto the cold pavement. She hadn’t intended to stop, but something about the cozy interior called to her. She stepped inside, adjusting the bag in her hand, and stopped short.

The sight before her was unexpected.

Feyre and Elain sat at a table near the window, a pot of tea between them, soft laughter filling the air. They looked… comfortable. Unfamiliar. Their faces were relaxed, easy, not like the strained encounters she’d had with them since Solstice. It was a strange feeling—seeing them like this, without the tension, without the constant underlying friction that had always existed between them and her.

But then they saw her.

Feyre’s eyes widened in shock, her hand pausing mid-air as she had been reaching for the teapot. The moment froze. Nesta felt a quick, unbidden surge of heat flush her cheeks, but she didn’t let herself turn away.

Feyre shot up from her seat, her chair scraping against the floor, her expression a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t place. Elain looked up too, her eyes flickering between Nesta and Feyre, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in energy.

The air thickened with silence, and Nesta stood there, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this. But there they were, in front of her, waiting. Waiting for her to say something, do something. And for a brief, flickering moment, all she could do was stand still, uncertain, not sure of how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions that had been left unresolved between them.

Feyre’s voice broke through the silence, tentative but steady. “Nesta… I didn’t expect to see you here.” Her gaze was softer than Nesta had anticipated, though there was still a hint of uncertainty, the kind that only comes from unresolved hurt.

She stepped closer, her fingers nervously clasping and unclasping in front of her. “Are you—are you alright?”

Elain remained seated, but her gaze flickered over Nesta with the same mix of surprise and caution. Feyre’s question hung in the air, waiting for Nesta to answer, and as much as Nesta wanted to pull away, to escape the sudden confrontation, a part of her longed for something—something that resembled understanding, or maybe just the faintest trace of connection.

Nesta held up the bag of books she had been carrying, her voice firm but guarded. “I was just coming in to grab a coffee,” she said, as if the simple statement could somehow shield her from the tension building between them.

Feyre’s eyes softened, but there was a hesitation there, like she wasn’t sure how to approach Nesta. “Would you… like to join us?” she asked, her words tentative, almost as if she was bracing for rejection.

Elain’s eyes were equally cautious, glancing back and forth between Nesta and Feyre. It was clear they expected her to say no, to make some excuse and leave. But instead, Nesta surprised herself. She felt a quiet defiance rising within her, the quiet strength she had nurtured in her.

“Yes,” Nesta said, her voice steady but quieter than usual. “I’ll join you.”

The surprise flickered across Feyre’s face, but it quickly shifted into something softer, almost relieved. Elain gave her a small, encouraging smile, and for a moment, the weight of all the time apart seemed to lessen, if only for this small exchange.

Nesta set the bag down by an empty seat, her back still a little tense, but she stayed, sitting down with them. She wasn’t sure where this would lead, or how she could navigate what had happened between them, but for once, she allowed herself to take a step forward instead of retreating.

Feyre took a slow breath, her eyes flicking to Nesta as if weighing her words carefully. “How have you been?” she asked, her voice gentle. “I know… during Solstice, the tension between us all was high. And Morrigan… she didn’t mean what she said. But, well, I suppose we’ve all been wondering what you’re going to do about Cassian.” She paused, hesitating for just a moment before continuing. “He… well, he’s been asking around. We all know it’s not just about the bond anymore. It’s more than that.”

Elain’s gaze flickered briefly to Feyre, but she remained quiet, allowing the conversation to unfold.

Nesta could feel her jaw tighten, her thoughts swirling. She had expected this conversation, even if she didn’t know exactly how it would unfold. Cassian. Always Cassian. It had been a constant presence, even in her silence, and she had grown weary of it, of him.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Nesta replied, her voice steady but her eyes sharp, like she was holding something back. “It’s not just Cassian’s decision, or anyone’s. I’ve had to figure things out for myself, in my own time.”

Feyre nodded, understanding but also concerned. “I know. But we’re still your sisters, Nesta. And Cassian… he’s never stopped caring. He wants to fix things with you.”

Nesta’s gaze shifted from Feyre to Elain, her eyes narrowing slightly. She leaned forward, her voice steady but sharp. “And why don’t you have the same attitude about Lucien? You and Feyre are always telling me to fix things with Cassian, to put the past behind us. But I don’t see you two getting scolded about fixing things with Lucien. I mean, how many times have we seen the lingering stares between you and Azriel? But you don’t hear people demanding that you make amends with him, do you?”

Feyre’s face flushed with discomfort, and she shifted in her seat, clearly unprepared for Nesta’s accusation. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “That’s different,” she muttered, clearly struggling to find the right words. “It’s not the same, Nesta.”

Elain, who had been silent until now, looked down at her tea, her hands nervously clasping around the cup. She didn’t want to be dragged into the comparison, but Nesta’s words had hit a nerve.

Elain stumbled, unsure of how to explain herself. “Well… because Lucien… and we’re… trying to understand everything, and… we’re still figuring things out. You know? With him being bonded to me and all.”

Nesta didn’t blink. “And so you think that makes it okay? That it excuses the double standard? Or is it just because it’s easier to focus on me, to point out everything I’ve done wrong?”

The air around the table felt thick, as if the tension between them had somehow gotten heavier with every word spoken. Feyre seemed at a loss, glancing at Elain for some kind of backup, but Elain remained quiet, still not meeting Nesta’s eyes.

“You know, I’m tired of the constant expectation that I have to be the one to fix things, that I’m the problem,” Nesta continued, her voice quieter now, though still tinged with frustration. “You’re both allowed to make mistakes, but somehow when I do, it’s a reflection of everything wrong in this family.”

Feyre bit her lip, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but her gaze softened with guilt. “That’s not what we meant, Nesta. It’s just… we want you to be happy. And we don’t want you to carry all of that weight alone anymore.”

Nesta sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as the weight of her words pressed on her. She shook her head, looking at both of them, and for a moment, she felt like a stranger to herself. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, almost too quietly for them to hear. The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but they were true. She hadn’t expected to say them.

She looked directly at Feyre, her heart aching in a way that made her throat tighten. “I’ve been cruel to you,” Nesta said softly, the sincerity in her voice unmistakable. “I hated myself, and I took it out on you. You always tried to care for us, to take care of everything when Father wouldn’t. And I… I couldn’t stand it. I resented you for it.”

Feyre’s expression softened, her eyes filling with an understanding that made Nesta feel even more vulnerable. She wasn’t sure she deserved that understanding, but Feyre’s gaze didn’t waver, and it made Nesta feel both small and incredibly exposed at the same time.

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” Nesta continued, her voice rough. “How you just took on everything. And I… I didn’t want to depend on anyone, especially you. But I shouldn’t have been so cruel. I should’ve tried to understand.”

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from tension. It was something more fragile, like a crack in a wall that had been there for too long.

Nesta turned her gaze to Elain, her heart heavy as she watched her sister. She hadn’t expected this conversation to go the way it had, but now, with Feyre’s understanding, it felt right to do this. It felt right to face what she had been avoiding for so long.

“I’m sorry, Elain,” Nesta said, her voice quieter this time, almost unsure. “I never expected anything from you. I thought you would always stay the same, that you’d always be… the one who would just stay in the background, waiting for everything to pass. I never really saw you—saw who you are now. I was wrong.”

Elain’s expression softened, her eyes wide as she looked at Nesta. She had always been the more gentle, the more patient one, and Nesta had never truly acknowledged that. She had always taken her for granted, assuming Elain’s kindness was constant and unchanging.

“You’ve changed, Elain,” Nesta continued, her voice thick with emotion. “And I didn’t give you credit for it. I should’ve seen that you’ve been through your own struggles, your own growth, and I haven’t been there for you the way I should’ve been.”

For a moment, there was silence. Elain’s face softened, but there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Nesta hadn’t expected instant forgiveness—she didn’t deserve that. But the weight of her apology hung between them, genuine and real.

Nesta straightened, her shoulders stiffening as she looked at both her sisters. Her apology felt like it had been a long time coming, but there was something else—something she needed to make clear.

“That’s all I’m sorry for,” Nesta said, her voice firm. “But there are only two of you I owe anything to. Feyre’s family, your mate—” She shook her head, frustration bubbling in her chest. “I can’t for the life of me understand why I’m made to feel like I owe them something.”

Feyre opened her mouth to respond, but Nesta cut her off, her emotions running high.

“Why am I supposed to walk on eggshells because of their pasts? Their pain? I didn’t cause it. I didn’t do anything to them. Why should I be the one to tiptoe around them, to make them feel comfortable? What happened to them had nothing to do with me.”

Feyre’s gaze softened, but she still looked conflicted. She exhaled slowly before speaking, her voice quiet but steady. “It’s not that simple, Nesta. It’s just… how they live, how they’ve always lived. Their backgrounds, especially Morrigan’s—it’s not an excuse, but it’s the reality. They come from places where those wounds run deep, and sometimes… sometimes they want to protect each other, to make sure no one repeats the mistakes of the past.”

Nesta’s chest tightened at the mention of Morrigan, but her anger hadn’t dissipated. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to keep explaining herself, apologizing, for something that felt like it wasn’t her fault.

“Protect each other?” Nesta said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “By treating me like I’m the one who needs to change, the one who needs to make amends? I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for them to judge me for something I wasn’t even part of. And I’m tired of being made to feel like I’m the one who’s supposed to fix things that have nothing to do with me.”

Elain shifted in her seat, and Feyre sighed, looking at Nesta with a deep sadness in her eyes. “It’s not about fixing, Nesta. It’s about understanding each other, trying to heal as a family. They can’t just… ignore the things that have happened. We all carry those scars in one way or another.”

“But I’m not them,” Nesta shot back, the sharpness in her voice echoing. “I’m not their past. I’m not their family’s mistakes. And I’m tired of carrying their burdens too.”

Nesta sighed, the weight of everything she’d said settling in her chest. She didn’t come here to rehash old wounds, to argue, or to dig into the past. She came for something different. But she could feel it—this unspoken distance still hanging between them.

She stood, brushing a hand through her hair as she glanced at both Feyre and Elain. “I didn’t come here to talk about this,” she said softly, the exhaustion in her tone barely contained. Her gaze softened for a moment before she met their eyes again. “I really do need to go.” She forced a weak smile, a smile that barely felt like hers, more of a pale imitation.

“I wish you both a good day,” Nesta continued, her voice quieter, as if offering a peace she didn’t quite believe herself. She took a step back, her hand resting lightly on the chair, her eyes lingering on Feyre and Elain for just a moment longer before she spoke again. “I assume, by the lack of letters, that you won’t be coming to the tavern anytime soon.”

Feyre’s face softened, her brow furrowing as if she wanted to say something, but Nesta’s words had already pushed her back. “Elain… she’s still uncomfortable there,” Feyre said, a hint of regret in her voice. “But… maybe we could all have dinner together at the river house? Even Taryn could come along, if you’d like.”

Nesta’s smile faltered immediately. She looked down at the ground for a moment, feeling the weight of her thoughts pull her deeper into herself. “I appreciate the invitation,” she said, forcing the words out through a tight throat. “But… I think Feyre, Elain—you’re the only ones I would want to see there. And I understand they’re your friends, really, but they’re not… mine.”

She took a deep breath, as if trying to steady the shaking in her hands. “Perhaps we could have dinner another time,” Nesta said, her voice a little firmer now. “You two could come over. But… the invitation is really only extended to you.” She met Feyre and Elain’s eyes, her expression soft but resolute.

Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, her footsteps steady as she left the café behind.

As Nesta stepped outside the café, the cool breeze greeted her, and for the first time in what felt like a long while, she found herself smiling. It wasn’t a wide smile, but it was there—soft and genuine, a fleeting moment of peace she hadn’t known she was capable of. The tension in her chest had eased just a bit, the weight of everything she’d been carrying seeming a little lighter.

She hadn’t expected to feel this way. She hadn’t expected to feel anything but exhaustion and frustration when she walked in. But now, with the air around her and the quiet buzzing of the city, she couldn’t help but feel like she had taken another small step forward. Maybe she hadn’t fully figured out everything yet—maybe there were still things left unsaid—but she was moving.

And that was enough for now.

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 176 spoilers except its mostly me having a great time bc the panels this week were incredibly fun YAY and thoughts below the cut

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oh my god these motherfuckers are up to their scheme again. LMFAOOOOOOOOO LOOK AT THEM HAHAHAHAHAHA

IT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY THAT THEY'VE MASTERED THIS ROUTINE. THEY DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TAKE TIME TO PREP ANYTHING JAVIER JUST KNEW. THAT'S SO GOOFY LMFAOOOO I LOVE THESE TWO SO DAMN MUCH HAHAHAHAA

also obsessed w javier's expression. whenever he has these moments his expressions are always the BEST because theyre SO MINIMAL. the slightest curl of his lip,,, the menace in his eyes,,, compared to lloyd's expressions, javier's are always technically lowkey, but the artist always gives that lowkeyness an extra edge in the art that completes the entire panel. i love javier's expressions so much WAHAHAHA THEY'RE SO GOOD

LOOK AT THEM BEING MENACES ADLFKJSLDJKF absolute thugs. god it's like when they're together they sync a braincell that tells them to go Scheme mode. they're so ridiculous i love them sm,,, alicia ur gonna have to get used to this LMFAO

ALSO I AM SO SO HAPPY LLOYD IMMEDIATELY WENT TO COMPROMISE W THE SPIRIT KING. I KNEW U WOULD THATS MY BOY ILY BUDDY!! i really like how nice his expressions are here,,, i want to think that there's a part of him in there that's actually genuine abt this. esp w the panels that are upcoming,,,

like he looks so soft here! it's sweet,,, i'm really glad he's doing this,,,

AND THEN THIS. THIS PANEL OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. THIS IS GORGEOUS I HAVE TO SHOW IT

REALLY enjoying all these soft lineart from lighting moments that the artist is putting in. god i love this so much,,, there's a metaphor in here somewhere,,, idk,,, i like this a lot!!! alicia seeing pieces of suho's heart poking thru,,, like sunrays,,,, hehehe sweet,,,, so sweet,,,

i love this panel to pieces but i do think its funny af that in this panel lloyd is crouching like that LOL what a creature ily bud

ALSO. ALSOO lets talk about what alicia's thoughts are here as she's looking at him,,, she says smth along the lines of "ur interesting to me bc i cant figure u out,,," and i love that a lot,,, maybe im looking too far into this but i read this as her saying "im seeing pieces of who u really are, i want to figure u out / explore ur true and honest self". she's learning more abt the side of lloyd thats empathetic, thats selfless, that brings out a good outcome for everyone,,,, she wants to see more of that side of him methinks,,,,, regardless of what she actually meant by this, it's a very cute moment and i really like it,,,

it again makes me think that alilloyd as a ship has soooo much potential. it could be so so good,,, this moment especially helps give it a little ground to stand on,,, i just wish there was a stronger foundation,,, it could be even greater,,, ohhh,,,, maybe in future eps who knows? we'll have to wait and see,,,

also hi artanis!! this line from her caught my eye i wanted to bring it up

im willing to bet that this belief is also one that was sourced from credos/jang-cheol, just like the rock paper scissors game and just the farming/pacifism schtick as a whole. it probably played a part in how he had to convince the demons to follow him in the first place,,,

this could also indicate that living honestly and working to earn is a principle that jang-cheol followed in korea, and he decided that he would stick with it when he became credos. alternatively, he had the complete opposite principle (he was a gamer after all, with a max level character,,, could imply that he spent all his time on the game) but when he got transmigrated, he realized that he had another shot at making a living honestly and decided to commit to that. there isn't really enough to make a solid conclusion on how jang-cheol lived, but this is an interesting indicator and i think it's worth a bookmark! i hope the prequel gets a manhwa so i can read it,,, manifesting,,,

oh also the railroad! yay!! y'know idk if this is quite the preservation of nature i had thought they would do LOL this,,, could be considered manipulating the ecosystem too much,,, but also i am not a biologist! so i wouldn't know! it looks nature-preserved so i'll take it!

seems like the demons won't be too far from home too, since they'll probably be the ones employed to run the railroad tracks once it's complete. lloyd essentially gave them jobs! yahoo!

AND THEEEN THE SECOND REALLY NICE PANEL FOR THIS WEEK YAYAYAYY WAAAAHHHH LLOYYYD LLOYD

i will be honest the glare is pretty uh. harsh but i dont mind at all bc YAYYY YAYYY NICE MOMENT WITH LLOYD YAHOO YAHOO. he seems and looks super tired here too,,, one of the panels before this was his heart freezing up again and alicia asked if they should stop bc of his heart, but he refuses,,, ghhh,,, stupid fucking martyr i love you stop doing that though please take a break

this panel is again another alicia pov panel and i really really like it,,, he's so Sun character to me idk how to explain that (javier is Moon to me). maybe ill break that down in a different post another time but yeah,,, yeah,,, sun and moon,,, yeah,,,,,,, also alicia is Comet. one day ill elaborate

and then there it is, goofy lloyd panel HAHA there's the greedy front he always puts on, welcome back! alicia's reaction too LMFAOOO she's sick of his antics /lh

like bud u dont have to say anything else,,, we know u care lloyd u dont have to put up the money part at the end anymore,,,,,,, goofy ass

their lil moment here was also rlly cute,,, alicia laughing at lloyd's antics and just. his big ass smile HAHAHAHAH so so cute i love this a lot,,,

and then the railroad got completed YAYY YAYYYY YAYYY ONE STEP CLOSER TO A HAPPY ENDING!!!

lloyd got like a jump ability and according to my mutuals thats not in the novel? so im curious as to what thats for,,, lloyd says it already but yeah he's a swordmaster now and has tons of other skills and summons too. what would a super jump be useful for,,,? so far, most if not all of his skills have had some use in the story,,, skills that are deliberately brought up like this are always used eventually. what in the world will a jump skill do??? what kind of situation will lloyd find himself in?? is this not almost over??? i'm so curious,,,

also this panel lloyd looks really tired, exhausted even,,, his irises look dulled and theres slight bags,,,, the construction plus the effects on his heart is probably doing him in,,,

and then we see him keel over LAKDFJLSDKJF

I GASPED SO LOUD WHEN I SAW THIS AND IM NOT SURE IF ITS OUT OF WORRY OR IF ITS OUT OF GIDDY. bc listen, on the one hand, oh my god im so worried for lloyd please be okay dont DIE. on the other hand,,, on the other, fic-brained character interaction-pilled hand,,, WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP CHARACTER WHUMP WHUMP MOMENT HURT COMFORT. YAHOO FIREWORKS EVERYONE CHEER!!! WHUMP!!! WHUMP IN MY TGED!!! WAOWIE WAOWIE WAOWIE!!!

sorry. my demons. anyway

alicia catching him is so good,,, sweet,,,, so sweet,,,,, ANOTHER POINT FOR ALILLOYD. again i wish the foundation for alilloyd was stronger, bc if they had established it in a better or more solid/connected way this moment would hit even harder,,, BUT NO,,, its missing impact for me simply bc alicia and lloyd do not talk/share/save each other enough. but it's so cute,,, sweet,,, this moment is nice,,, ghhh,,,, i feel heartbroken over this its bittersweet

and off they go,,, yes,,, a queen, her boyf, and her boyf's boyf. beautiful. alicia is carrying him again hehe,,,

off they go to get the eye of summer!! YAYYY!!! lloyd will stay alive!!! YAHOO!!! we are one step closer to beating fate and getting that happy ending,,, hold on lloyd, hold on everyone,,, it'll be over soon! if they don't get a happy ending i am going to cry and sob for forever and ever!!!! i'm serious!!!!!!!!

i genuinely had a lot of fun reading this ep the moments were all so fun and i'm very glad that things are looking up for them,,,!!! this does also worry me that there's going to be one more final obstacle before we actually get their good ending. bc now that i think abt it, getting the eye of summer does save lloyd but it doesn't stop fate,,, so,,, there might be more trouble ahead. but i'm not gonna worry about that right now!!! i'm coping!!! i'm coping.

that's all from me tho,,, i have to get back to the school grind,,, i'll see y'all next time!!!

[halfsixwakeup]

Okay, so. Slay the Princess/In Stars and Time AU! Get ready for lots of words!!

After the 'There Are No Endings' ending in StP, The Shifting Mound and The Long Quiet emerge from the Construct as fully realised Gods. The Narrator's world, already on the verge of self-destruction, fully collapses. But like Shifty said, a new world is born from its ruins; the world of ISaT.

After Shifty and Quiet have spent however many millions of years dancing and fighting or whatever, life has developed again, and they take an interest.

Shifty doesn't much care for humans individually. They're too small to be worth Her time, not to mention how short their lives are. But they're intelligent enough to perceive things, and as a being that becomes what others perceive Her to be, that's very useful. Sure, a single human's belief doesn't count for much, but hundreds, thousands of them? That's a significant difference. So She cultivates a large following, carefully presenting Herself as an ever-changing God of limitless possibility, guiding Her followers to use their belief to Change themselves and the world around them. Her people develop, and soon enough The House of Change spreads all through the young nation of Vaugarde and beyond.

Quiet, as is His nature, does not actively seek out humans. They're interesting enough to watch, but He's happy to leave them be. Instead, a small group of humans, an island just North of Her followers, call out to Him. Or they nearly do, at least. They call out to the Universe, to the World As It Is, to the infinite dark expanse of the night sky. They ask, they beg, they Wish for help; help with their struggles and challenges. He feels pity for them. He'd never truly been mortal, but when He was first created He'd certainly thought He was. He can relate to them in some ways. So He responds, and the Country of ✦ prospers with his help.

Shifty and Quiet aren't the only ones to have left the Construct though. The Voices, eleven fragments of Quiet's mind, eventually become tired of the empty ruins of The Narrator's little bubble, and make their way to the world of humans. Instead of returning to Quiet, though, they follow He and Shifty's example, picking a group of humans to guide. They settle in a country far to the east of Vaugarde, where they advise people as and when they're each needed. They become known as the 11 Expressions of Ka Bue, and the people around them grow.

Everything's going fine until one of Quiet's followers Wishes for the color yellow to disappear. He'd been so used to the endless black-and-white of the Construct, He hadn't consciously noticed these new 'colors'. And as soon as He does notice, they all disappear, replaced with what his subconscious says is Meant To Be There. And try as He might, He can't bring them back. So instead he limits Wishes. Only those who know the correct rituals can Wish for things from Him. They're overly-complicated, but they're a protection.

Meanwhile, The House of Change is developing further. Worshipers now use idols, small statues of Shifty's infinite forms. They're diverse and intricate, each one unique to what each follower Perceives Her to look like. The only common features are a vaguely feminine appearance and some form of crown. Copying Her example, the people of Vaugarde learn to Change themselves, in mind and body, and to be accepting of that Change.

In Ka Bue, the Voices have multiplied. Originally they had each chosen a host, a single person for each of them to help. But as they did so, new Voices appeared, splintering from the original eleven in the same way they had from Quiet. Their numbers grew until it was decided that they wouldn't be 'with' someone all the time. Instead, a human would request the company and help of a specific voice they needed the help of.

Eventually, Quiet's 'ritual' idea stops working. Wishes are still harder to make, but the knowledge of them keeps spreading, and soon enough they're just as common as before. So He takes more drastic action. The world forgets the island of ✦. It's still there, carrying on as normal. But its location, language and culture are lost to the rest of the world, and the memories of Wishing and rituals quickly fade.

In Dormont, a small town in Vaugarde, Shifty finds something special. There is a House there, like most Vaugardian towns, filled with Housemaidens Changing themselves and the world around them. But there is one who does not want to Change. She adores Change as much as any other Housemaiden, both watching it and bringing it about personally. But she feels no desire to Change herself. She also loves the stillness of knowing just who she is, and knowing that she will stay the same. Something about it feels right to Shifty. It reminds her of what They once were, that beautiful Whole that She and Quiet had been before the Narrator split them apart. This Housemaiden, 'Mirabelle', is by far Her favourite follower.

One day, Quiet hears a Wish from beyond the island of ✦. It rings out, carrying an intense desperation. A man from ✦, now in Vaugarde, has lost who he is. He cannot remember his old home, and he is terrified that his new one, Vaugarde, will suffer the same fate. Quiet feels guilt over the man's fate, and grants his Wish. He gives him a power that reflects His nature as a God of Stillness; the power to pause time itself, so that he can preserve a moment for longer before it inevitably changes. But the man takes this power and pushes it further. He sets about using it to freeze all of Vaugarde.

From there it's pretty much just the events of ISaT, any actual AU story I write would be post-game stuff with the Gods talking to Siffrin and the Party.

Also! Odile brought several Voices with her to Vaugarde!

The Voice of the Curious

The Voice of the Determined

The Voice of the Skeptic (The Original!!)

That's all I've got for now, but I'm planning on adding some original story that's not just using StP to explain ISaT's timeline, so I'll post that when I figure it out! Hope you enjoy the silly crossover!

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us. 

[voltronisanobsession]

Miguel codes Lyla a Friend

I had this idea since I was thinking maybe sometimes Lyla gets lonely being the only hologram in the spider society apart from Spider Byte. So I decided to do this and show what it could be like if Miguel finally coded and programmed Lyla a new friend!

This also might be the very few writings I’ll do for this fandom since I wanna focus on the ones Im active in now :D

For this to even be CONSIDERED a possibility, Lyla would have to have been annoying Miguel for awhile, complaining about how oh so lonely she’s gotten being the only hologram

“Come on.”

“There’s Spider Byte.”

“She doesn’t count, plus she’s still a spider. Come oonn.”

“Is my company not enough, Lyla?”

“Look me in the eyes and you tell me. Come ooonnnnn.”

In the end Miguel will succumb to Lyla’s persistent complains much to the her delight

I can already see her excitedly yapping away while Miguel begins programming her new ‘friend’

I totally see Miguel just copying and pasting Lyla’s original coding while making some changes like the personality and appearance just because he didn’t want to spend too much time on this

It takes a couple of runs before both he and Lyla are satisfied with the final outcome, you😍

Miguel made it so that you were the more compassionate and kind one between the two of you while Lyla is the honest and blunt one

You chose your own name, which surprised both him and Lyla since you were already adapting and growing as an intelligent form of tech

“Well then Y/N, welcome to the team.”

Cue Lyla grabbing your arm and disappearing to who knows where while Miguel sighs

Omg she would totally give you star glasses so you could match with her heart glasses!!!

You guys are rarely seen without the other ever since your arrival

Lyla would show you all the ropes to being Miguel’s assistant and would be so proud when you help file your first report on an anomaly :,)

“They grow up so quick.”

“But I can’t ‘grow up’ Lyla.”

“You’ll understand those sayings soon.”

You guys do everything together, like karaoke nights with Miguel, make friendship bracelets for each other and take silly pics with that one bunny filter Lyla’s obsessed with

It’s like you’re Thing 1 and Thing 2 according to Peter :]

Because this is technically your shot in ‘living’, you definitely look at everything with stars in your eyes

Everything is still so new to you and so exciting that you often get carried away with rambling about how fascinating life is

Which causes Miguel to raise an eyebrow at times because it’s almost like your becoming more self aware of yourself, gaining more… human emotions despite you being only a hologram

And he isn’t wrong

Once learning of Miles Morales’ story and how he’s essentially going to destroy the multiverse according to Miguel, you can’t help but feel for the boy

Your traits grow from being compassionate to feeling real emotions which confused you at first when you began feeling so different at times

(You asked Lyla about the weird feelings you’ve been getting but she only looks at you weirdly so you don’t bring it up again)

You make it a habit to mention every now and then that Miles had no control over what happened and how you feel sorry for him

How you even theorize that with him, the cycle of Spiderman could possibly be broken!

Lyla would 100 percent lecture you on how that would be terrible and all that fun sunshine stuff which you definitely don’t listen to

Hobie would be around when you’re on one of your tangents on how Miles could be the change the multiverse could benefit from, capturing his attention

“Rebellious one, aren’t you?”

“Oh Hobie hello! What do you mean by that?”

“I sure as ‘ell know bossman wouldn’t program your own ideas to go against his, now would he?”

After that small talk, your hologram self would realize ‘hey! Im thinking for myself, I have my own ideals and beliefs!’

Cue you acting out against Miguel cuz you’re in your rebellious phase

Bro would totally tell Lyla to control you

You’ve been giving him more headaches than Lyla has and that’s saying something

I think Lyla would try to tap into your programming to see if there was something wrong only to find out you put a PASSWORD on that file LMAO💀💀💀

Her reaction: 😦

Besides that concerning factor that is making itself way more known after Miles arrives, most of the spiders do enjoy your company

They love how you just float around them as you beg to hear more of their stories and fights they’ve experienced

You have an almost childish light because of how interested and amazed you are at them

You love being around Peter B. though because of Mayday

She loves just swishing her hand at your frame, giggling as you reappear in a different spot, your soft glowing light capturing her attention every time

Overall I think being Miguel’s second assistant isn’t the most terrible thing in the world

Lyla’s sarcasm has rubbed off on you so you both like to make Miguel’s job a little more difficult than it needs to be

But he definitely has a soft spot for both you, especially since you often sympathize with him whenever he watches those videos of his past life

You’re just a silly member of the society trying to learn more about life and the special moments it holds

You want to be apart of the real world instead of being confined to the digital world, which Lyla and Miguel don’t realize is a problem until you finally go against them

DUN DUN DDUUUNNNN

[pagannatural]

1.06 Skin

-Dean tries to say no to Sam about going to California but it’s a losing battle because Sam has the puppydog eyes which are lethal.

-Jared Padalecki is very good at platonic chemistry. He had zero sexual tension with the mom from Dead in the Water, for example, even when he pulled her out of her bathtub and she was lying on top of him naked and panting. It wasn’t a romantic moment. Likewise here he hugs his friend Becky and is obviously happy to see her, but they have zero sexual chemistry. It makes the sexual tension between Sam and Dean stand out and feel significant.

I also love how unhappy Dean looks seeing Sam’s friend from his time at Stanford.

-Sam’s “you’re not my brother” when he catches the shapeshifter kills me.

-“He’s sure got issues with you” SAY MORE. It seems like Dean’s memories or whatever it is are being melded with the shapeshifter’s, because he only talks about things that he can easily relate to. I bet there’s a ton more Dean stuff that the shapeshifter just doesn’t assimilate.

-“Dean stay out of the sewers alone I mean it!” “Sorry Sam, you know me, I just can’t wait.” Sam does worry about Dean. And Dean is kind of a reckless act-first think-later type and I bet that drove little Sam crazy. Did younger Dean kind of enjoy Sam’s concern? I bet he secretly relished it.

-during their fistfight Shapeshifter Dean says “not bad little brother” and Sam says “you’re not him” with such fire. It feels possessive.

-It recalls their first scene together when Dean breaks in and Sam says “Dean?” with such eager disbelief- like, Is it really you? It makes me wonder if Sam kept hoping to see Dean while he was at Stanford, if he kept hoping he’d visit or call, or if he did a double take every time he saw a broad-shouldered guy in a leather jacket.

-“even when we were kids I always kicked your ass” between fighting and cuddling and moving so much they must have had more physical contact with each other than anyone else in their lives.

-Dean walks in to find his own likeness on top of Sam, strangling him. I can’t remember him ever looking as murderous again as he looks here

He shoots the shapeshifter and goes to the body. This is how the brothers look at each other before Dean rips the amulet Sam gave him off of the shapeshifter and puts it back on.

What even IS this? What is this moment between them?

The episode explored the isolation and intensity of the brothers’ relationship. Their desires for lives of their own exist in opposition to their lives together.

But for Dean the main issue is not his desire for a separate life, it’s the desire for Sam to be his even though Sam left him. They both fight their gravitation pull toward each other for different reasons. The shapeshifter fed Dean’s abandonment fears by taking everything that Dean loves- his appearance, his car, his amulet, his brother. His self loathing comes from his belief that everyone will leave him, that he’ll never be enough to make them stay. Sam still has a foot out the door, in the lives of his Stanford friends.

This specific moment though. When Dean kills his double, saves Sam, and takes back the amulet, it feels like he’s reclaiming Sam. Early in the episode Dean told Sam that hunters can’t really have friends. He’s saying You’re mine and you can really only either be mine or be anything else. For Sam, the world is divided between My Brother and Not My Brother. Dean has just killed the thing which is Not His Brother.

And Sam ACCEPTS. He chooses his brother. Becky tells him it must be lonely hunting monsters and he smiles and says not really, looking over at Dean. He says what can I do, it’s family. He lies, but he’s not going to stay in touch with her. He’s in for however long this takes with Dean.

At the end of the episode Dean tells Sam that he’s sorry he can’t have the college life he wanted. Sam tells Dean it’s okay, he never really fit in at college. They always come back to each other. They only really fit in with each other.

[iconsumedmygoldfish]

I. AM. WRECKED.

DRDT CCHAPTER 2 EXECUTION SPOILERS AND MORE

just watched drdt chapter 2 episode 16. you know what that means!! time for a rant!!

LEVI TAKING BULLETS FOR TERUKO??? I WAS SO SURE IT WAS GONNA BE ACE THAT DID IT AND HE CAME OUT OF NOWHERE

HE'S MY FAVOURITE I AM ACTUALLY SO WRECKED

also may make a seperate post about this but whit is WAY too chill. this is the first time we've seen him lose his cool briefly, and it's when they're locked in. i think he could have some form of claustrophobia.

ace's execution was so fucking cruel. in the end, he got himself killed because he was so scared. it was anticlimactic, it was immediately overshadowed by someone else, nobody really mourned him at ALL. ace didn't get a buildup, and he died knowing that the one person he considered a friend could die the longer he lived on. that is FOULLLLL.

also. ace said that he'd have a third murder on his hands. arei, levi and.... who?

veronika was so annoying this chapter. im sorry but she actually got on my nerves so much. girl. shut up im trying to watch my doomed yaoi

i still don't trust eden

hu jing kinda average, j kinda average, nico kinda average

david not much screentime, but he seemed shocked when monotv was actually unconscious at first. maybe he genuinely believed that couldn't happen? does he have a reason to think so?

im not sure whats up with arturo, smth to do with his sister, not being able to save someone? i actually missed most of the arturo lore and i dont care enough about him to look back

sucks to be charles right now, but i was more confused as to how whit was more concerned about CHARLES than the classmate(s) in front of them literally about to DIE. i know the fandom loves whit but he is giving me so many red flags i have to say it. ill make a post on him soon. i DO NOT TRUST WHIT YOUNG.

eden kinda mid rn but i just don't like her so im biased..

it was very interesting to see teruko's self-blame this chapter and her beliefs coming out more to the viewer. her talk with monotv was so interesting. so monotv really is just a robot - but why was it so sinister in that one scene very early on in drdt? yk red face smile face. we haven't seen that come up again, and monotv hasn't shown many more examples of sinister behaviour. i wonder if that was an example of monotv being controlled maybe??

im wondering if ace helped to kill mai? she could be the third death? i saw someone say that the game could be punishment for them all for what they did to/their connection to mai, and i think that's an amazing idea

also another part on levi. he's trying his best to understand ace, so much, and yet he just can't. i was very intrigued to see how frustrated he was (ha. divorce arc.) but also the fact that he put teruko's life before his own despite having more difficulty than the others is just. wow. like, anyone else in that room had the opportunity to save her, in the same way, but it was LEVI that stepped forward. and for teruko of all people.

i may have to make seperate posts i just wanted to get this out quickly while the episode is still fresh!!! ^^ sorry if missed anything!!!