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thisblogisaboutabook · 8 months ago

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The Sprite and the Shifter

Tamlin x Original Character/Sprite - Fluff - Smut

After rescuing a sprite from the paws of a predator, Tamlin finds a friend in the most unlikely of fae. The only problem is, he’s a grump and she’s sunshine personified. Well, that and the very big (very little) problem - she’s less than a foot tall - and he might be falling in love with her.

A/n: This is one of my favorite stories I’ve written yet 🥹

Warnings: Contains Crescent City lore that could be spoilery if you think too much on it, Smut, a few little size difference innuendos sprinkled in, language, alcohol, mental health struggles, MDNI.

A tickle brushed against the nape of its neck as the beast prowled through his forest. The hitchhiker he’d begrudgingly picked up marveling at the world around her.

He’d found her under the paw of a bob-tailed forest cat, trying her best to reason with the hungry creature. It was said that sprites could wield power quite larger than their size would suggest, but this tiny, stubborn creature simply crossed her arms with brows drawn and a pointed finger, lecturing it and refusing to harm the cat that surely saw her as its lunch. With a half-hearted growl from the beast, the forest cat ran at the sight of him to which the Sprite tapped her petite foot in irritation, “I could have handled it!”

The beast only gave what appeared to be a roll of its eyes and wandered on, leaving the little fae be.

“Wait!” She squeaked. “My wing!” He glanced back spotting her through the brush, running with all her might on legs barely longer than the height of one his paws.

He thought about leaving the ungrateful female behind but… well, the guilt of leaving the it behind to fend for itself was likely more inconvenient than taking her somewhere to have her bent wing tended to.

“Please! I can’t fly like this!”

An image flashed through his mind of a fae dying on a table, wings cut off by a witch, and an act of kindness in its final moments. Not today. Today his heart wouldn’t dwell on it, but he could offer kindness to the sprite. So he lowered himself on his haunches and waited for her to catch up, giving an irritated flick of his tail as he waited for her to climb on.

The beast was beginning to regret his kindness as he let out a displeasured rumble from his throat when her small, barely perceptible voice sighed in wonder, “Look! Those flowers are almost as tall as you! Can we smell them? Please please please.”

He wanted to ignore her, he really did, but the awe in that voice made him pause. In this court now overrun by thorns and weeds, she still found beauty. It wouldn’t be long before she’d see it for what it was - a wasteland squandered by its own High Lord.

Letting out a huff through flared nostrils the beast hung its head low in reluctant deference to the tiny fae’s command, grimacing as she grabbed fistfuls of his fur, tugging herself on top of his head, an eager wing twitching with excitement brushing along the shell of his ear, with an exclaimed “oops, sorry!” as it twitched at the tickling sensation.

Apparently hauling her body up on top of his head wasn’t enough as he felt weight distributing to the right side of his head as she pulled herself up an antler, and steadied her feet on a tine halfway up. “I can smell it from here! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen one like this.”

The beast thought to itself that she’d said that about the last four flowers they’d had to stop and investigate but kept it to himself.

Hours later they stumbled out of brush into the fields leading to the Spring Court manor. Excitedly she jumped up and down with glee, pushing down on the brow of her savior. He really should have left her somewhere but there was no turning back now.

“Is it safe here? Will you be hunted?” She asked wearily.

The beast finally spoke, “I am not prey.”

Whether she was shocked to realize the beast could speak or not, she didn’t let on. Scurrying down his snout and nearly tumbling as she dropped to her knees, she pulled a corner of his lip up to inspect his sharpened teeth. “With canines like THAT, I suppose not.”

“Do you know if anyone lives there? It looks abandoned.”

The beast only prowled toward the manor the tiny fae nervously grasping onto its fur, little fingers tugging tight clumps into her grasp as if that would protect her from any dangers within.

Prowling next to a velvet lounge the beast dipped low. “Off.”

“But-“ she shrieked.

“You’re safe. Get off.” tone leaving no room for objection.

“O-okay.”

And with that the beast shifted into a rugged, beautiful male. He waited for the realization, the shock, the hate to cross her features but it never came.

No, the pixie jumped up and down shrieking with glee. “Shapeshifter! Eeeeek! I’ve never met one of you before!”

The male almost let a corner of his mouth tug upward. When was the last time he’d smiled? It felt unnatural and he kept his features neutral.

He squatted down, extending a palm. She felt lecherous admiring the muscles of his exposed chest but it was right there before her. “Wow.” she let slip, her eyes blown wide.

And he couldn’t help it, he let out a small sound of amusement. He wasn’t quite sure anyone viewed him as anything less than a male who’d let himself go at this point.

At least he had pants on. She wondered how the magic worked considering he had no clothing as a beast. “Let’s get your wing fixed.”

She took a step into his palm, grasping onto a calloused finger for balance as he carried her to a small infirmary within the manor.

Sitting on a small table back turned toward the male, he assessed the delicate structure of her iridescent wings, up close he noted that they were membranous with pearlescent veins throughout. He couldn’t help but marvel at them, wondering what colors of paint it would take to recreate such a spectrum of color. He wondered if Fey- no, he wouldn’t think of her today. He couldn’t allow himself to spiral, he’d brought the sprite all this way and her wing needed tending to.

It took much longer than anticipated but with guidance from the little faerie and his own knowledge, they were able to set the wing. Unfortunately, it could take a few days to heal. The light filtering through the windows had since become a blend of oranges and reds, night would be upon them soon.

“You may stay the night in a guest room.” his tone impassive in hopes she wouldn’t notice the shame hidden within. The rooms were hardly fit for prisoners, let alone a guest - but it was better than sending her flightless into the darkened forests. There were threats far worse than bobtail cats on the hunt under the cover of night.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

He only grumbled in dismissal of the thank you’s. Surely the manor would feel like a prison to her by the time she’d leave. “It’s nothing. Find a place to sleep and it’s yours for the night and- what exactly is it that you eat?”

The male wasn’t exactly prepared to host but surely there was something that could be provided - though he doubted his usual meal of venison would be appetizing to her.

“Do you have sugar and water? Or perhaps honey?”

With a nod, he led her to the kitchen, she sat on a counter, ankles crossed as he let a pot of tea steep, pulling out sugar cubes to melt into it and providing honey in the smallest dish he could find.

She let out a sigh of contentment as she sipped the tea - an herbal blend that would ease the aching of her healing wing and hopefully help her rest. With genuine gratitude, the faerie expressed her thanks. “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh, I’ve been so very rude. What is your name?”

Something pulled at him with the question, she truly didn’t realize who he was. “Tamlin.” he spoke curtly. “And what is your name?”

“Fleur” she smiled.

“Fleur” he repeated - a lovely flower in his palace of thorns and decay.

An oddly adorable yawn spilled from her as she began to drift off. The tea clearly doing its job. He carried her to the least objectionable room in his manor and laid her carefully on a pillow, placing a silken kerchief over her delicate form.

“Goodnight, flower.” He whispered.

————

Tamlin awoke before dawn, sleep evading him as usual, but today he felt a little lighter. Certainly it had nothing to do with actually interacting with another being, with reveling in the way she experienced the world with such joy.

As he wandered through the halls, he found himself pulled toward the room he’d left her in, his heart sinking slightly when the fae was no longer there. No note or sign of her presence aside from the missing kerchief.

Very well. Best to leave before the walls come crashing in on her. Yet Tamlin found his shoulders dropping slightly as he carried himself back to his chamber, the energy to press through the day no longer tangible.

Falling back into bed, he lay quietly as the sun began to peek over the hills, casting rays into his room. A slight shimmer glinting in the dawn. That’s when Tamlin noticed - curled up on a shredded chaise by the long burnt-out fire place lay the little sprite, sound asleep under his kerchief.

The corners of Tamlin’s lips rose slightly as he drifted back to sleep.

Smile be damned as tiny hands pinched his cheeks two hours later. “Hello! Are you alive in there? You’re sleeping the day away!”

Letting out a sigh, Tamlin sat himself up hearing an “oof!” as she tumbled off of his face.

Placing her hands on the curvature of her hips, she scowled at him. “A little warning next time, please!”

“Apologies. Perhaps you could find a gentler way of waking someone. Why are you in here anyway?”

She flushed. “Oh, I- well I got tired of waiting for you and didn’t know my way around the manor so I just came in to wake you up.”

“No you didn’t” he tsk’d.

She flushed, knowing she’d been caught.

“Oh….” She rubbed the back of her neck the rosey tint of embarrassment lingering across her delicate features.

“Well, there was a spider in my room and- well, they’re not all bad but this one was rather insistent that I was intruding in its space.”

Whatever he’d expected her to reply with was not that.

“-and, well, this house is so big and I knew I would be safe with you.”

Safe. She felt safe with him. She’d sought him out and found comfort in his presence. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, that instinct to protect roiling beneath his surface. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke.

“Show me where it is and I’ll eliminate the problem.”

“No!” She cried. “It wasn’t hurting anyone - it was just displeasured and I was a stranger in its space.”

Tamlin thought. Apparently he’d brought a pacifist into his home - first refusing to use her power on the cat and now, a spider? What an interesting little creature.

“Fine. I’ll ward the house against spiders.”

“But that’s its home! And I’m only a guest.” She retorted.

He dragged a hand across his face. Good grief, this little thing. “This is my home, not a spiders.”

“You don’t need all of this space! I have seen no others here. Surely it can take up space in your residence without putting you out.”

He should have left her in the wood where he found her. Truly. But he admired her kind heart.

“Fine, how about this? I will ward the house with the exception of that room so your spider will not be evicted. I, for one, would prefer not to have my manor overrun by the things.”

He couldn’t hear it but by the way her cheeks puffed and deflated he assumed the sigh she let out was her giving in to his solution for now.

————-

After another breakfast of tea and honey, the pixie sat straight, looking to her wings with an attempt to flutter the damaged one. “I should go and make the most of the daylight.”

A slight pang of disappointment rang through the male. Worry for her? Guilt for sending her away when he had room to spare? Sadness for the lack of her company, regardless of how pesky she was? He wasn’t sure but the words fell from his lips. “Stay.”

She jumped to her feet with glee. “Really? Oh thank you, thank you!” Springing forward, she flung herself against his wrist, hugging him. “I would kiss your cheek but… well, my wings.” Her eyes shone as she stared into his. “Thank you.” She repeated earnestly.

—————-

Tamlin had to admit that he didn’t mind her company. He carried her through his gardens, expecting her to frown at the weed-infested, malnourished state of it but she only smiled. “It’s beautiful!”

How she found beauty in such a place, he was unsure. “You should have seen it in its prime.” He didn’t mean for the words to escape him but they fell off of his lips with sadness.

“I like it now.” She hummed. “Maybe when Calanmai comes, the garden will grow further.”

He stiffened, blinking. “Calanmai has not been celebrated by the High Lord in several years.”

“Oh.. Why not?” She puzzled.

Distrust crossed his features. Was this a scheme? Had someone sent her to coax him into partaking in the Great Rite once again? His heart sunk. “I need to go take care of some things. You can find your way back into the manor.”

“Wait!” She cried but he only pivoted, taking long strides back to the house.

Tamlin sat in his study an hour later, eyes glazed as thoughts of the past spiraled. Would he ever feel better? The urge to rip the study to shreds that once would have clawed its way out of him wasn’t there, just an ache in his chest. Empty. Void.

A shadow flew across his desk overlooking the garden and again moments later, and suddenly a falcon swooped from the sky, straight toward where he’d left Fleur.

Fear ripped through Tamlin, he ran like he’d never run before shifting into his beast form to amplify his pace. He wouldn’t make it to her in time. Oh gods- he’d left her out there just for her to die.

“Fleur!” Tamlin roared as he bound into the garden, tearing through the briars, ignoring how they barbed into the pads of his paws. Exposing his teeth he launched toward the large bird of prey.

Screeching to a stop, nearly taking out the sprite and the falcon as he slowed, falling into a seated position from the velocity of halting.

“Are you okay??” She asked, concern etching her tone.

“Me!?” He asked. “I saw this falcon come swooping out of the sky to grab you.”

Fleur brought a hand to cover her mouth as she snickered. “No, silly! She came to find me. This is Perrey. I live with her and her hatchlings.” The bird clicked its beak affectionately brushing the top of its head against the faerie.

Tamlin’s jaw dropped. “How?”

“That’s a story for another time” she smiled sadly, scratching the feathers of the falcons neck.

“Perrey says she can fly me back to her nest. So I suppose this is goodbye.”

Tamlin looked to the sky, gray in the distance, grasping at straws for a reason to have her stay, regardless of her motives for being in his court. A lonely male, indeed.

With an awkward scratch to the back of his neck, and insecurity in his voice he replied. “It’s going to storm soon. I know it’s safe for Perrey but with your healing wing, it would be best to keep your wings in a dry, temperate controlled environment.”

She looked to the bird and Tamlin could have sworn the bird gave a nod of the head. After a long pause, it extended a wing and all but pushed her toward Tamlin.

With a disgruntled humph and a scowl to her supposed “friend” she looked back to Tamlin. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are in no way a burden.” He meant it.

“Okay, I think that would be good. Thank you, Tamlin.”

Letting out a high pitched whistle-cry, the falcon looked to him and then back to her and Fleur whirred around looking at the bird. “What!?”

The bird looked to him again with - yes, that was definitely a nod - “Oh gods, Perrey! I’m mortified!” The bird let out a huff and shook her head, leaving the Sprite behind before she could change her mind.

“I’m so sorry.” Fleur blurt out. “I didn’t know! No wonder you left me out here.”

Tamlin cocked his head. “You didn’t tell me you were the High Lord! I would never have asked why you didn’t partake had I known.”

Recognizing this as his opportunity to apologize he bent down to pick her up. “Come, little one. It seems we both have stories to tell.”

———————————

The pair sat by the fire. Tamlin in a large armchair and Fleur cross legged tucked into the crook of his arm. He’d added a small drop of whiskey to her sugar concoction knowing they’d likely both need it if they were to get to know eachother.

“Would you like to go first? Or me?” She asked.

Tamlin’s heartbeat picked up. She would likely hate him after this and if she left - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know her further, to have that much more reason to mourn the loss of her companionship. Now she was a pleasant stranger and knowing her? Well, that would feel a lot like friendship.

With a sigh, he muttered. “I’ll go first.”

To her credit, she only stared starry eyed at him as he spoke, never looking at him with disgust - only empathy and perhaps a bit of sadness.

He told her of love squandered and how he’d come to be the broken High Lord of the Spring Court, how he’d failed his court and mourned the male he had once been, the male he could have become.

When he’d finished she looked to him. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. I’m sure it was hard. Maybe what happened wasn’t all right, but people can learn and grow. You could even love again if you wished.”

He appreciated her effort in consoling him but mostly that she didn’t flee or reprimand him, when he’d already spent so long berating himself.

In fact, getting it all off of his chest felt good. He felt a slight relief to that ancient ache within his heart.

“Well, your turn little flower. How does a Sprite end up in the care of a falcon? Where do the Sprites hide? Truthfully, I always thought you were a myth.”

She flushed. “I- I don’t remember everything. I remember, I think, or maybe dreamed of a burst of flame, a wave of water, a flash of white light, a mother’s hands picking me up gently, and whispering.” She hugged her arms around her waist. “Her voice was a breath of life, changing and moulding, whispering of growing flowers in the darkest places. It felt like love, like a gift for a sacrifice that I cannot remember.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone because I know it sounds crazy but it’s all I know. The next thing I remember was being carried in Perrey’s talons, thinking she would kill me only for her to provide me with protection.”

She blinked rapidly looking up into the emerald- eyed male’s gaze, met with only kindness. “Do you believe me?” She whispered, averting her gaze before she could be crushed beneath the weight of judgement.

He lowered his palm. A silent offering. She took a step onto it, standing straight and he raised her with a steady, fluid motion, careful not to let her fall over. “Of course I do. I don’t know your past but I know you have a place here - if you’d like.”

She was right. He did have plenty of room in his manor. And a friend - it would be nice to have one.

——————————

Fleur - A month later

Time flew by as she reveled in warm spring days, basking her now healed wings in the rays of sun filtering down through puffy white clouds. When arriving to the manor, Fleur wasn’t familiar with her own power beyond her ability to fly, but Tamlin had taken to working with her and she discovered she had the ability to revive various flora.

In fact, after the past month of hard-work and practice, the gardens around the manor flourished.

Fleur adored Tamlin and smiled to herself one day as she watched him in the gardens. She thought he was beautiful when she met him but she hadn’t realized how much of a physical toll his grief had taken on him until he started to gain a healthy complexion, his eyes were no longer hallowed out with purple underneath, his hair was lush and shiny - she’d spent countless nights running her hands through it as they chatted.

Today he donned a flower crown she’d begged him to let her weave into his hair. He was patient with her as she did it, and she blushed at the result. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest as she admired her work. This strong, powerful male who didn’t balk from the softness and beauty of the world. The male who allowed the smallest of his denizens to play dress-up with his hair, and donned the crown proudly as they tended the garden.

Perrey - the meddling buzzard - had stopped to check in several times, teasing her for having a crush. She only scoffed at such a suggestion, things would never work between them. Based on his hands and feet his… appendage was likely as tall as she was. She blushed at the thought, pushing it far back into her mind. She’d taken to sleeping on a pillow in his room. She’d continued sleeping on the chaise for a week after her first night spent in the manor, but Tamlin sometimes had bad dreams and she’d use her powers to soothe him with the sweetest scents of spring and gentle breezes, humming soft tunes until he’d settle.

She, too, would have ocasional nightmares, those images of fire, water, and ash. They felt so real, like another life. Another world. But she’d hear a voice on those nights, when the dreams would become whimpers, not the Mother she’d once dreamed of but Tamlin’s voice. “I am here. You are safe. I will protect you.”

One night she’d woken to that voice to find that it truly was Tamlin soothing her through the nightmare. She didn’t want to embarrass him and selfishly, she ached to hear his unfiltered words. He’d told her of his days writing limericks during a war and she didn’t know what to expect - truly she’d never even heard a limerick before - that she could remember anyway. But even if she had, this one would be her favorite.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.

Take heed when things get hard and don't you ever turn around.

You'll find someone, someday, somewhere that grows you to the clouds.

Sweetest of the sunflowers, you're the sun to me.”

“Little flower?” Tamlin’s voice drew her from her daydreaming. “Calanmai is coming.”

Her heart lurched. They’d discussed the holiday and the potential of the Spring Court High Lord partaking this year. They’d surveyed the land together and while she thought the Spring Court to be a lovely place, she now understood the whisperings she’d heard from the pollinators during her time in the forest. The flowers were dwindling, the harvests no longer plenty.

She understood his hesitance to partake and would never push him to join if it was not comfortable.

An ugly part of her that she tried to push down deep tugged at her. Jealousy. She would be thrilled for all the creatures, all the residents of the Spring Court, but she would never have the opportunity to partake. As far as she knew, she was the only Sprite within this kingdom and while Tamlin was a shapeshifter, how would one approach the topic? But she was still a being, she still felt urges and desire, and Tamlin, something glowed within her when she thought of the male.

Perhaps he saw her as no more than a pest but, she had a hard time finding that to be true. She had little to no experience in romantic affairs but she had enough sense to realize that people didn’t whisper words like “you’re the sun to me” into the ears of someone they didn’t care for.

Remembering that he likely anticipated her response she forced a smile. “Oh?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. “I’ve been thinking and I have been failing my people. I have been failing my people for quite some time and need to partake for the greater good of my Court.”

An ache filled her, not the bitter ache of jealousy, but that of concern for a friend. “Are you comfortable in doing so?”

He gave a half-smile. “I’ve participated in centuries worth of Calanmai nights. I will be fine.” She looked to her feet shyly before looking back to him. “Just don’t force yourself to participate if you’re not willing. Duties be damned, your consent is important too.”

He gave a nod to her. “I appreciate your concern, little one.”

He sat in silent contemplation, words forming on his lips before pressing them into a line again.

“Fleur.”

Her heart fluttered at her name on his lips. “Yes?”

He hesitated for another moment. “Just- Please be careful on the night of Calanmai. I cannot and will not force you to do anything against your will, but perhaps you should stay here. The magic of the night is wild, primal. And you’re….”

Small. Fragile. Breakable.

She was well aware.

“You’re lovely and I don’t know how I would react if someone hurt you.”

He cares about me.

She closed her eyes, letting the thought float away. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He could never be hers.

“Oh, okay.” She whispered.

———————————-

Calanmai - Tamlin

His heart raced as he bound away from the manor. He’d reminded Fleur of the dangers. He wouldn’t lock her away or force her to stay in but he prayed that his reasoning was enough for her to do so.

A bitter thought passed through him, he didn’t want whatever maiden the basest version of himself would chose. He wanted Fleur. Fuck- he felt like a degenerate for it too.

She deserved better and they could never truly work anyway, aside from perhaps grinding against his pinky, there was no anatomical way to be with her. He knew she was an adult, that despite her lack of memories, she was mature enough and understood herself enough to know that she was a grown female with desires of her own. Hell, he’d even scented her arousal a time or two. It killed him. Why couldn’t she be his? It was a sick trick of fate to put someone so perfect in his grasp, just for it to never work.

He wanted to know what sweet sounds she would make as she came on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He ached for it. He could make himself small but- his magic only went so far. He couldn’t constantly be at her size. Was he sick for wondering if there was a way to make it work? He’d never want to push her into a relationship. What they had was too precious.

He had shrunk down to her size one day and she shared with him all the details of her world, the way the sun created prisms off the orbs of dew on blades of grass, the way she could curl up in a larger flower and nap, the pollen feeling silken against exposed skin. And that day, all he wanted to do as he watched her marvel was to take her into his arms - hold her, kiss her, submit himself wholly to her. His heart longed for it.

He knew he couldn’t shift to her size again without taking their friendship to a point of no return. He couldn’t fathom losing her companionship.

The drums rang out and he began his routine. He found the stag with ease. His bare chest covered with swirls of paint heaved as the urge to find the maiden took over. He wandered the crowd, women reached for him, caressing his arms and exposed chest with grabby fingers. He didn’t want them, the magic didn’t want them.

His body began to move on its own accord, the initial sign of setting its target, he wandered again through the crowd, closer and closer to the edge. His legs began sprinting across the field, further and further from the crowd, right toward - the manor.

Gods - no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He began to sweat, the beast warring within. He was in pain, warring against it. He couldn’t go to her. She deserved so much more than this.

He begged to the mother, anyone who would listen to hold him back. Finally, through much disdain, he found himself in the stables, using any tethers he could find to bind himself to a post. He hoped it was enough to keep him away. He was strong willed but the beast inside was strong. Perhaps his will and the additional measures would be enough to hold him back. The horses chuffed at his intrusion, doing nothing to hide the irritation of his disruption to their rest, one going as far as to let out a loud neigh.

Tamlin fought and fought, sweat now drenching him, letting out pathetic whimpers and pleas. To whom? He didn’t know. The desire within him was so strong. Images of the day he’d shrunk down to her size flashing across his mind. She was everything. Perfect. Anyone who saw her would agree, with beauty and luscious curves that would bring kingdoms to their knees.

“She could be yours.” The beast in his mind roared. “She wants you. Take her. Just shift.”

“No!!!” He cried out, tears brimming his eyes as the lust burned through him.

His pupils blew wide at the sound of a tiny voice, sweeter than any nectar. “Tamlin?”

“Fleur” he heaved. “You can’t be here. You have to go!”

“What’s wrong? Who tied you here?” She flew to him, frantic, concerned.

She cared for him.

“Fleur, please.” Tamlin whimpered. The beast requested. One begging her to leave, the other begging her to relieve him of his lust.

She sniffed the air and he knew it wasn’t the horse shit she was smelling. “Oh, Tamlin. The magic. It chose me, didn’t it?”

“Fleur, I can’t.”

“Look at me.” She placed her delicate hands on his chin. “Do you want this?”

“No! I mean, yes. Fleur, there’s nothing more in this world I want but I can’t.”

She paused, deep in thought. “Why can’t you? And not because of the difference in size, why can’t your heart?”

The silver threatened to spill over his lashes. “Because you’re everything, Fleur. I can’t ruin us, ruin you.”

“Then don’t.” She stated plainly.

He took pause at the response. The simplicity of it.

“Ask me what I want, Tam.” Her eyes searched his, wings now fluttering to hover directly in front of his face.

Through heavy breaths he rasped. “What? What is it you want?”

“I want you, Tamlin. I want your friendship. I want your love, your touch. I want to know the electricity of your fingers tracing down my spine, the feel of your lips against mine, to know your body as well as my own. I want you to feel how much I care for you in every way, not just the emotional, the physical too. I want to know what the connection between our souls feels like when you’re buried inside of me, claiming me as yours. Because that is what I am Tamlin, I am yours - if you want me.”

“You’re all I want.” He growled.

“Then have me.”

—————————-

Fuck, she was beautiful - bare before him, spread on his bed like a delicacy, his to feast upon. And he was going to, and he would take a long time reveling in the sweet nectar currently dripping before him. They’d barely made it to his room, his magic cleaning the dirt of the stables off of him and spiriting away their clothes. He’d broken through his reigns at her command, and before shifting to her size, she begged him to shift her to his size, wanting to experience the world as he does.

He wasn’t prepared for the way the shift amplified her already unattainable beauty. Her hair normally appearing a shade so blonde it was nearly light now refracted under the soft fae lights with pastel shades of aqua, pink, and purple. Her skin practically glowed with radiance and her wings, they laid spread beneath her like a stained glass blown by the finest artisan. Forget the ethereal beauty of the High Fae, she was truly otherworldly, a goddess of spring. And he was hers, prepared to worship at her altar.

Her breasts heaved with anticipation as he admired her. The base instinct in him seemed to settle now, as if even it submitted to her.

He watched her with both predatory intent and awe as her round breasts and pert nipples rose and fell with each desperate breath of anticipation.

Stopping him from his final question of “are you sure?” she raised a hand up, the other falling to the apex of her thighs. “Please.” She whispered. “Tamlin, I need you.”

He lost any semblance of control, halting her as she began bringing those luxurious thighs of silken skin together in an attempt to create friction between them. His muscled grip holding them apart. “I’m going to taste you now.”

And taste her he did, he swiped up her center with a broad, flattened maneuver of his tongue. Her essence coated him and he’d never reveled in anything so delicious. He could die a happy male knowing he’d tasted the nectar of the gods. With expert precision his tongue circled her clit in teasing motions, and the moans that fell from her lips were sinful, a siren’s song of lust and temptation, a sound he would play on repeat long after this night.

A hand flew to his hair, tugging on it, her legs falling over his shoulders as he knelt at the edge of the bed. He ran a finger, collecting her essence to ease the slide into her. He groaned at the tight feel of her as his finger slid in, sending vibrations to her clit.

He worked her open with careful diligence, her moans pulling the strings of his ministrations into her core, whatever pulled those sweet songs from her, he paid rapt attention to. He knew she’d never been with anyone and his heart selfishly swelled at the idea of being her first and last, because that’s what this was. Not a one night stand, not just a “rite”, but a claiming of body and soul.

He puffed up with male pride, reveling at the grip of her sex as he slid another lubricated finger into her, this time curling in a way that elicited louder moans from her plush lips. With the next curl of his fingers, he sucked the swollen bud of her clit, humming with satisfaction at the way her body was responding to him. The hand that wasn’t currently wringing delicious whimpers from the female, gripped onto a supple thigh tensing around his shoulders.

A low growl escaped him, vibrating through her core and she shot up, trying to push away from him. He pulled his head back in worry, “What is it? Are you okay?”

Fleur gave a wicked smile. “Yes! I’ve never been better but, when I come at the touch of another for the first time, when I come for you - I don’t want it to be alone. I want to come together. Can we?

And if he hadn’t already been so riled up by the divine female splayed before him, this would have done him in. His eyes rolled back in bliss at the sentiment, “Gods, you are truly a gift.”

With that he scooped her up in a quick motion, depositing her further back on the silken sheets of his bed. There were so many ways he wanted to take her but this first time it would be gentle, he could leash that inner beast and savor this moment with the reverence it deserved.

Purple irises peered up at him filled with adoration, trust, hope, anticipation, so many emotions swirling in those eyes. She propped up on elbows to watch as he reached down once more, filling her with three fingers, so fucking wet and ready for him.

She let out his name in a gasp when he withdrew his fingers, his arm disappearing from between her legs to cradle her neck. She gaped at where his cock stood erect and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the slit of it.

Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then taking her chin with his thumb and forefinger, emotion dancing in his eyes. “It’s okay, love. I promise I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

She bit her lower lip, the corners tilting up as her eyes raked over the gorgeous muscled male above her, taking all of him in, committing him to memory. Flashing a soft, genuine smile she nodded her head eagerly. “Always.”

With that he gripped his cock with one hand, sliding the head through her slick, and carefully pushed in.

The combined sounds of pleasure emanating from the two could have shaken the walls of the manor. The stretch of his cock against her tight cunt sending waves of bliss through them.

“Please” she whimpered, offering permission for him to sink deeper into her heat.

“Fuck, Flower. I never dreamed you’d be so tight.”

She quirked an eyebrow, simultaneously letting out a moan as he pushed into her inch by inch. “You thought about this?”

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his cock now completely enveloped by her - warm, silken walls gripping fitting him like they were custom fit for eachother.

“Oh, gods!” Fleur cried out. “Tamlin, it’s too, it’s so-“

“Shhh baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He praised with soothing coos. And oh, by the flutter he felt around his cock his baby liked to be praised. He tucked that away mentally for safe keeping.

He held still, fighting the primal urge to fuck into her until she was screaming his name. No, there would be time for that later.

He let out a soft chuckle as she shifted her hips, canting them off the bed in a desperate attempt for friction.

“You ready?” He grinned, canines flashing like a fiend.

“I’ve been ready for this. You’re not the only one with a- ooooh” she let out a moan at a slight buck of his hips.

“What was that?” He mocked.

“Mmm” she hummed. “You’re not the only one with an active imagination.”

“Hmm” he feigned consideration. “Well, let me enlighten you, little flower.”

With that he pulled back and thrust into her gently, groaning as her breasts bounced with the motion. “These-“ He rolled a nipple between his fingers, leaning down to suckle at one, pulling back to release it with a pop “are delectable”

She gasped at the sensation and before she could speak further he began moving in a gentle rhythm, her moans reverberated off the walls, a chorus for his own enjoyment.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, do with you, Fleur.” He whispered and she could read in the expression, the way he took her in with such warmth that he meant more than just sexually.

She could only manage another sweet sigh as he pushed into her, increasing his pace and the weight of his thrusts. The way he stretched her and filled her in ways she never dreamed was sending her so close to the edge. “I’m gonna come.” She cried, lips forming that telltale “O”.

“Cum with me, Fleur.” He whispered into the shell of her ear. She shook her head in a “yes”, creases forming across her brow as her face contorted with pleasure.

Tamlin placed a thumb to her clit adding just the pressure she needed to fall over the edge, causing her to shatter around him in squeezing waves as she climaxed. She looked so fucking beautiful coming on him.

Tamlin came as she fell apart around him, with a deep cry of ecstasy he found his release, the heat of him filling her. Tamlin’s eyes screwed shut at the shock running through him with his orgasm, behind his eyelids golden vines swirled and wound from the once darkened depths of his soul into… he opened his eyes to find hers blown wide, not from the magnitude of their climax but from the snap.

“Mate?” He asked.

“Yes!” She cried out. “Mate.”

Fleur didn’t know a lot about mates but she’d heard whisperings of it, a bond so rare and precious. She refused to ruin the moment by contemplating the logistics of it, they may be able to carry out the act of mating but the actual prospect of carrying a child - which seemed to be a key facet of the bond. No, instead of considering she crashed her lips into his, kissing the mate she was blessed with until he dropped his weight off of her, falling to her side and pulling her onto his chest, her wings fluttering joyously with the motion.

“My little flower.” He beamed, pressing a kiss to the top of her pastel hair. “My perfect mate.”

———————————

Epilogue

The morning after their first coupling, Fleur found herself once again tiny, curled up into the warmth of Tamlin’s neck. They found that it took considerable power to shift her size and he could only shift his for specific periods of time, though it was easier. They accepted the bond right away and never looked back. The year’s harvest was the most fruitful in Spring’s history and Tamlin took time rebuilding his court, with his little mate by his side. He was so proud of her, so enamored by the kind, joyous soul he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. He never minded their difference in sizes and quite honestly, they had fun exploring the various way they could enjoy each other regardless of size. Everything was wonderful. Until the day Lucien and Elain visited, with the sweetest baby one could dream of in tow.

Fleur doted over the child with such wonder. The joy Tamlin so often remembered filling her eyes as she took in his court, and he also felt longing flowing from her through the bond. Tamlin always wanted children and had accepted that it wouldn’t be feasible for them, the shifting being potentially dangerous to a developing child. He could shift to her size but there was always a small chance that the pregnancy could hurt her given that he wasn’t truly a Sprite. Neither were comfortable risking it.

Fleur hid the longing so well, the slight sadness she carried. He knew the sadness had nothing to do with him and that she was otherwise overjoyed with their life but he could understand the pang of grief. He felt it sometimes too, which led him to his study late one night. He’d felt her grief and refused to let his pride hold them back.

One morning, Tamlin woke Fleur early. “We have company coming today.”

She rubbed her bleary eyes as she propped up from her spot against his neck. “What? Who? Are Lucien and Elain back from the continent?”

He gave a smile. “No love, get ready and meet me in the study in an hour. Does that work? I’ll have tea ready for you.”

She gave a curious second look to him but knew her efforts to pry the information from him would be futile.

So an hour later she found herself sitting in the study with Tamlin; his ex-lover, now High Lady of the Night Court, and her mate. Feyre glanced anxiously around the room, placing a hand on her mate’s thigh and giving a soft smile, he returned it in kind. She looked back to Tamlin and Fleur with a smile, eyes alight with hope. “We think we found it. Helion helped, granting us access to dated tomes regarding shifting and ancient High Lords.”

Tamlin gave a small smile and Fleur could feel a huge wave of hope and nervousness down their bond. “Found what?” She asked, not unkindly.

Tamlin looked to her softly. “You don’t have to say yes, and you have plenty of time to think on this if you wish, but…”

Fleur’s legs bounced with excitement, anticipating the next words to fall from her mate’s lips. “We can shift you permanently to the size of a High Fae.” He looked to her cautiously, “I could try to shift to your size permanently but for the purpose of-“

She interrupted him with a squeal, flying to press a kiss to his cheek and then to Feyre and Rhysand as well. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cried.

The High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court gave her soft smiles before Rhysand asked, “I assume that’s a yes then?”

“Yes!” She squealed. With that Tamlin used his powers to shift her to her High Fae height. Feyre marveling at her wings, studying them with awe. “You’re lovely.” She spoke with nothing but kindness. “Are you sure you want this?” Tamlin asked. She shook her head eagerly. “Yes! I’m positive!”

With that, Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand each dropped a kernel of light onto Fleur.

The moment felt magical but nothing felt different afterward. Tamlin and Feyre looked to eachother. “Now,” Feyre spoke. “Try to shift to your Sprite form. Will it into your mind.”

Fleur fought for a moment. “Take a few breaths, love.” Tamlin whispered. So she did, willing the image into her mind once again. And suddenly, she was small. “Oh…” she frowned. “Does this mean it didn’t work?”

“The opposite!” Feyre spoke with glee. “It worked! Can you shift yourself back?”

Understanding fell upon Fleur and she followed the same process, imagining her larger form and taking breaths. To her absolute joy, she grew large again. “You-“ she spoke through broken sobs. “You gave me the ability to shift! I can be this size all the time and shift back into my Sprite form when I wish?”

“Yes.” Tamlin spoke gently, placing his arms around her waist. “You can be whatever you want, flower.”

“I can’t believe this. Thank you all for this gift. How can I ever repay you?”

Rhysand nodded toward Tamlin. “The debt has already been paid.”

Tamlin gave an unreadable look to the High Lord and then to his former lover. “There was never a debt.”

“Congratulations to you both.” Feyre spoke, Rhysand mirroring the sentiment before winnowing away. Tamlin paused finding a note on the chair that Feyre had vacated.

I am happy. Now, it’s your turn.

Tamlin took his mate’s hand in his, discarding the note into a wastebasket. “Shall we begin?”

He laughed as he caught his footing, barely bracing himself for his mate to jump into his arms. Between kisses, she challenged, “Give me all you’ve got, my love.”

————————

Tag: @tamlinweek for the shapeshifter theme

General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin x oc #tamlin week 2024 #tamlin in love #tamlin’s mate #tamlin oneshot #tamlin #healing #Tamlin healing #spring court #sprite #shapeshifter

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shaunamilfman · 1 year ago

Text

evermore

Summary: "She screams your name as she gathers your limp body in her arms. “Baby. Baby. Baby.” She keeps saying it, again and again as if she truly believes that you'll answer if she just says it enough. She has such childlike desperation as if she can't understand that she's broken her favorite toy.

You die out in the snow, cold and alone. You haunt so much more than just the narrative. "

A/N: Shauna Shipman x reader if it wasn't clear. Warnings for canon typical themes and violence. I have very spoilery content warnings at the very end if you think you might need to see them ❤️.

You scoff loudly, tears running furiously down your face. You rub them away pointlessly, new tears taking their place the second your hand falls. You stare at Shauna in disbelief that she could ever be this mean to you. You knew her capacity for cruelness better than anyone, but never in a million years did you think she'd turn it on you. “Oh, it's my fault is it?” You ask bitterly. “Stupid Y/N didn't give you enough attention at a party so you just had to go and get yourself knocked up with someone else's boyfriend?”

Jackie flinches slightly at the reminder but still stands firmly at Shauna's side. That one had surprised you too, but leave it to Jackie to side with Shauna against someone even if she got hurt in the process. You knew they’d probably have an argument of their own once they were alone, but you still resented Jackie for taking Shauna’s side at the moment.

“Maybe I just realized you don't deserve me.” Shauna spits out defensively. “Maybe you never did.”

You nod slowly as you take in the information. You keep your eyes firmly on the ground, desperately trying to keep a hold of your emotions. “Well, I certainly didn't deserve this.” You say quietly. Shauna flinches slightly but doesn't back down. You finally look back up, seeing the rest of your friends standing behind Shauna. You don't even have it in you to be surprised how vehemently they seem to be on her side. “All of you?” You ask.

Lottie shrugs, a cold expression adorning her face. “We're all crazy, right? That's what you keep saying.” She says. Jackie looks slightly annoyed at being included in that statement but just rolls her eyes.

“This is about your fucking cult bullshit again?” You ask bewilderedly. You couldn't fucking believe this, but that seemed to be a common issue with you. Your lack of belief in Lottie's cult only seemed to further divide you from the other girls.

“This fucking cult bullshit is the only thing keeping us fed,” Mari says, instantly jumping to Lottie's defense.

“Nat is the only thing keeping us fed.” You refute immediately.

“And where's she now?” Lottie asks.

“Why don't you go ahead and wait outside for her, since we're so crazy,” Mari says. You sigh irritably and start to respond when you catch the expression of the girls around you. You can't help but get nervous, remembering all too well what you watched them do to Travis last night. You fidget nervously with the sleeves of your jacket, your sudden burst of anxiety effectively taking the wind out of your sails.

You suddenly notice the way they've surrounded the room and you back up slightly in response. “Go ahead,” Lottie says. “Go.” You laugh nervously as you look over at Shauna, some part of you still believing she'd back you up. She looks a little unsure, but the second she notices you looking her expression hardens.

“She's not going to help you.” Someone says behind her, though you can't quite make out who as your panic rises. You slowly look around at all of them, wishing that at least one of them would say something in your defense. This was crazy, wasn't it? If someone else thought so too they didn't bother to speak up about it.

You scoff as you back up towards the door. You take one last look at Shauna, with one hand still on the door. “Well. Fuck you too then.” You say bitterly, slamming the door behind you.

You stare wearily at your fire with your arms wrapped around your knees. You're desperately cold even with the fire roaring. You stare at the front door for a few minutes as you consider just going back inside. It was late enough that you were sure most of the girls had gone to sleep already, late enough that you felt safe slipping back inside.

Still, you remembered the hateful look on Shauna's face and decided that she'd just have to come to you. You were sure she'd come after you after she calmed down. Your girlfriend had a habit of blowing up about stuff but she always came crawling back to apologize. You really do think you'd forgive her if only she'd actually apologize to you. You knew that you probably shouldn't, given that she's cheated on you at least once; Though you know I'm the back of your mind it was probably more than that, but she'd always been so good so you otherwise. Still, the longer you were out here the more your hope started waning.

You pulled your jacket tightly around you as you started shivering. You stared blankly into the fire, never once seeing the figure watching you from the attic window. Maybe things would be a lot different if you did.

You were getting pretty tired though, so for now you decided to sleep. You could hash things out in the morning when Nat got back, you knew she'd understand.

…

“Hey,” Shauna says softly, shaking you awake. You stare up at her blearily as you blink your eyes open, still shivering from the cold. She kneels down on the ground next to you, gently pulling you into a sitting position as she wraps her arms around you. You scoff and try to pull out of her arms but she holds onto you tightly, not letting you go. You relax slightly, thinking of all the mornings you’d spent trying and failing to get Shauna to stop cuddling you so you could get out of bed. You just wish she’d get over herself and apologize already.

“It’s not your fault” She admits quietly, pulling you closer against her. You’re incredibly surprised, and you don’t bother to hide it. “It wasn’t really about you, I’m sorry.” You’re quiet for a long moment, gently running your fingertips against her arm. She was so warm and it was really everything you could do not to bury yourself in her arms. You weren’t even sure if you could feel your fingertips anymore. You felt pretty strange, honestly.

“What was it about, then?” You ask. Shauna sighs, her breath incredibly warm against your neck.

“Jackie.” She admits. “I just wanted to take something from her for once, and we were fighting.”

“That’s not,” You start.

“I know.” Shauna interrupts. “It’s not an excuse, but you asked why. I was just mad and I was being stupid.” You smile softly, even though you know she can’t see it. Leave it to Shauna to act without thinking. You lace your fingers together gently, nearly groaning at the warmth of her hand.

“I don’t forgive you.” You say, honest to a fault. “But we can work on it.” You can feel rather than see the way Shauna smiles against the back of your neck.

“Okay.” She says happily, dragging the both of you to stand back up. She pulls you by the hand back into the cabin. You let the door shut gently behind you, careful to step over the sleeping girls on the floor. You climb up into the attic after her, tip-toeing over to your cot on the floor. You lie on the cot next to each other, both of you a little unsure of what you should do now.

You turn on your side to face her, throwing your arm over her when she does. It was a role reversal to how you usually slept, and you could tell Shauna was silently questioning it. You gently place your hand against her stomach almost reverently. Shauna inhales sharply as she reaches down to place her hand over yours. “You’re really…” You trail off.

“Yeah.” She says somberly.

“Hey.” You say comfortingly. “None of that now.” You rub comforting circles against her belly as you pull yourself tighter against her side, desperately trying to chase away the cold feeling that’s encased your entire existence. “Everything will be okay.” You murmur quietly into her ear. Shauna makes a noise in protest but seems too tired to really fight you on it. She pulls your arm firmly against her as she tries to get comfortable on the floor.

“Will it?” Laura Lee asks sadly. You glance up in shock, eyes going wide as you see her.

“What?” You ask bewilderedly. You look over at Shauna only to realize she isn’t there. You have the strangest realization that she was never there. Somehow, you’re still lying out by the fire. You look back towards Laura Lee in a panic to find that she’s no longer there either. You’re all alone, and you think you always have been.

…

You look down at your body somehow completely disconnected from it. It takes you a long while to realize just where you are. You stare for a while in disbelief, unable to deal with the idea that she had left you here like this. You'd truly believed that Shauna would come for you, and you're not sure how to deal with the harsh reality that she hadn't. Your dream had felt so vividly real, but you should have known it was too good to be true. Nothing good has happened to you since that plane went down, why should this be any different? Before the crash, you used to dream of dying quietly beside Shauna one day, ripe with old age. Seems like you died because of Shauna instead.

It's so cold, you think absentmindedly. You've been cold for a while, but this is different. It wasn't a biting cold anymore, the kind that nipped at your fingertips and left you shivering on the ground outside. It was a cold sort of numbness like you were standing in the abyss just surrounded by complete and total nothingness. It isn't nearly as bad as you thought it was going to be.

You start to wonder why you fought so hard in the first place. You can't help but laugh at the realization that everything you've done in the last few months was for nothing. All the prices you have paid since that plane crashed were for nothing. You were nothing to no one, not anymore. Hell, You think bitterly. You were nothing to no one long before you died.

It had been so quiet for so long, so cold that even the birds weren't chirping. Nothing but the sound of the wind through the trees. You nearly die a second time when the silence is broken by a sudden agonized scream. You whirl around to see Shauna frantically running out of the doorway and dropping to her knees next to you.

She screams your name as she gathers your limp body in her arms. “Baby. Baby. Baby.” She keeps saying it, again and again as if she truly believes that you'll answer if she just says it enough. She has such childlike desperation as if she can't understand that she's broken her favorite toy. You're never going to take in another breath, but in this moment you can't help but hope against hope with her.

She shakes your body violently back and forth; It's not like she's trying to hurt you, but rather that she seems to think that all she has to do is shake you hard enough and you'll wake back up again. It's like she's trying to restart your heart just with the motions of her own body, a fucked up version of CPR. But no matter how hard she tries you'll never wake up again. You wish you could feel her hands on you, wanting nothing more than to feel her touching you one last time. It had been a while since she did it last, and you miss it desperately. You miss it even more as you realize you’re never going to get it again.

It's too late for that even if she doesn't seem to realize that herself; You just wish she would've realized that she loved you when you were alive. You felt a lot of things at this moment, but more than anything you felt like an idiot. You couldn’t believe you fucking died because Shauna couldn’t even bother to be the slightest bit sorry until she lost you. You were being irrational, you knew but felt like you deserved to be anyway.

Jackie and Tai both desperately try to pull her off of your body– no, your corpse– but Shauna just won't budge. She holds on to you with every ounce of strength she has, but she still manages to be so gentle with you now that she's finally accepted that you aren’t going to wake up. The expression on her face as she looks at you is absolutely devastating, and you can’t even bear to look at it any longer. She doesn’t speak anymore, she can’t think long enough to even form words. She just shakes desperately as her body is wracked with sobs.

You wish she’d go cry inside. It’s cold out here, as you well know.

…

Jackie had come to sit with Shauna for the first few weeks, staunchly loyal to the end. She couldn't bear to look at your body, whether due to guilt or disgust, you were never quite sure. Eventually, even she had to tap out as it got far too cold for her to stand being outside for long periods. She begged and begged Shauna to just come inside with her but Shauna had steadfastly refused. You wondered where all this loyalty was when she fucked Jeff.

Jackie's concern over Shauna's mental state was mostly unwarranted, but it's not like you could explain that to her. Most of the other girls had written Shauna off as crazy for sitting out with a corpse all day, but Jackie knew more than most even as she fervently protected that secret. She'd watched for weeks as Shauna talked to thin air, pleading with her to realize that you weren't really there. You wonder what it must look like for Jackie as Shauna sat next to your corpse for hours and begged you to say something to her; You wonder if Shauna herself even truly knows you're real.

You were still so angry, but there wasn't anything you could do about it. So you did the only thing you do: nothing. When Shauna begged you to talk to her you said nothing. When Shauna apologized for hours on end you said nothing. You sat there and watched her sob in the cold, just like she did to you. She had her chance to apologize, but she was so stubborn she'd rather let you die.

Still, the more time passed the more you started to feel sorry for her. She just seemed so pathetic. You never knew yourself to be capable of such cruelness, but then again you'd never died before either. As you stare down at your killer you find yourself unable to resist the urge to comfort her. You don’t know why she’s the only one who can see you, but you’ve long grown tired of punishing her for it.

You slowly kneel down next to her spot on the ground, the closest you’ve let yourself get to her in a long time. She’d known better, subconsciously or otherwise, than to try to get near you during the time she’d spent in the meat shed. You reach your hand out towards her dreadfully slow, more than a little terrified to find out if you can actually touch her. Judging by the distraught look on her face you know she’s had the same thoughts. You both gasp when your hand makes undeniably solid contact with her arm. You grip her arm tightly as a sudden feeling of wrongness overtakes you. This… This isn’t right.

Your fingers loosen as you start to pull away but Shauna surges forward to grab you tightly, her nails digging deeply into your skin. You stare down strangely at her fingers. You knew that, had you been alive, her grip most certainly would have drawn blood; As it was, you couldn’t even really feel her in the first place: you get nothing but the faintest sense of pressure. As nice as it is to be touched for the first time in weeks, that only makes it more upsetting that you can’t truly enjoy it.

“Y/N.” Shauna says panicked, frantically grasping at you as if you were sand falling out of her fingers. You smile slightly, the metaphor feeling apt as you start blinking in and out of existence. It happened less now than it did before, you’d gotten much better control over it over time but you always fell victim to strong emotions.

“See you later?” You ask wryly as your vision goes black, the first thing you’ve bothered to say to Shauna since you died.

You peer curiously over Shauna’s shoulder as she writes in her journal. She used to get defensive the second you stepped a foot towards her while she had her journal, but the two of you had long since grown past the need for secrets between you. Shauna hesitates for a second before she shifts her shoulders slightly so that you can have a better view as she keeps writing. This was such an interesting insight into Shauna’s psyche that you understandably never got to experience when you were alive. You found yourself endlessly fond of reading Shauna’s warped view of her day-to-day activities with the rest of your teammates.

You'd realized pretty early on that you couldn't go very far from your body, which made haunting get awfully boring pretty quickly. Shauna didn't even react when you floated through the walls or discorporated out of nowhere anymore. You'd even tried experimenting with Shauna to discover that you could even hold a pen if Shauna was also touching it. Despite being able to hold it, you couldn't seem to actually write with it– much to your disappointment and Shauna's silent relief: she really did not want to have to share her journal with you.

Shauna didn't cry nearly as much as she used to, not from grief anyway. Still, you found yourself wishing she would. The colder it got the more concerned you became with the amount of time Shauna was spending out here, and how much your pregnant girlfriend was isolating herself from her friends. She'd need them badly soon with the baby coming and you were intimately aware of how bad Shauna was at repairing bridges on her own.

There wasn't much you could do about it out here, but you'd come up with an idea that you hope might work.

…

“You need to go back inside.” You say. Shauna sighs, getting tired of rehashing the same argument over and over again. You were getting pretty tired of it yourself, but your girlfriend had always been incredibly stubborn; It seems that she still hasn’t learned her lesson on that one.

“I’m not leaving you out here by yourself.” She insists. You know her well enough to know her motivation is much more selfish than that: she doesn’t want to be inside by herself. You weren’t sure what had gone down between her and Jackie that had left her suddenly so dependent on your company over hers, but you certainly weren’t going to complain. It made you feel awfully selfish to monopolize Shauna’s time like that, but you figured Shauna was more than happy to let you.

“Then don’t.” You say simply. She gives you a wry look as she looks over at your body and then back at you. Her lip quirks up in amusement. You can’t help but laugh at the idea of your severely pregnant girlfriend hauling your corpse up into the cabin. She looks mighty proud of herself for making you laugh as she finally shuts her journal to give you her full attention. “Not my entire body.” You suggest through peels of laughter. Shauna’s eyes widen slightly as she looks contemplatively at your body.

After a long moment, she carefully gets up on her knees, grabbing the knife from the table as she moves over to your body. She slowly holds the knife up to your ear and watches you closely as she starts to cut it off. You flinch reflexively at the sight but feel no actual pain; It’s extremely strange watching your own ear being cut off without actually feeling any of it. You weren’t actually sure if it would work or not, but it’s by far the best idea you’d come up with. Shauna glances rapidly back and forth between you and the ear before she sheepishly stuffs it in her pocket. “What now?” She asks unsurely.

You gesture to the door and she rises slowly and unsteadily to her feet. She carries the bear meat she’d been sent out here for in the first place as you follow unsurely behind her. You reach your usual limit from the meat shed and cautiously take a step forward, incredibly relieved to find yourself without the normal tugging sensation that accompanies it. Shauna lets out a relieved sigh as she walks into the cabin. The other girls eye her wearily as she holds the door open for seemingly thin air. You didn’t actually need her to hold the door open for you, one of the few perks of being dead, but you desperately held onto any reminder of Shauna’s chivalry from when you were alive.

You sit quietly next to Shauna by the window, who keeps glancing back at you to make sure you’re really there. You’re sure it just adds further fuel to the belief that Shauna’s going insane, but you were just glad she knew enough not to try to talk to you in front of everyone. Small victories, you thought.

You watch the other yellowjackets curiously– a cruel part of you that you try to bury is pleased with how awful they look– and realize how hard this winter has hit them. You can't help the concern it sparks in you, but you're much more concerned with the state of your girlfriend. As much as you had assured her she wasn't going to die giving birth you didn't truly think the outcome was going to be all that hopeful. Secretly you wonder if it would really be that bad if she were to join you, but you know you'll do everything you can before that happens.

You sit up with her, long past when the other yellowjackets have fallen asleep in various positions on the floor. Jackie tried to convince Shauna to come and sleep with her, but Shauna refused. You were irritated that she was still avoiding taking care of herself to be able to talk to you.

You observe her carefully as she pulls your ear out of her pocket, fidgeting with it as the two of you sit in silence. You think it's an awfully morbid nervous get sure till you notice the way she looks at it. “Shauna.” You say quietly, barely above a whisper. She seems to snap out of her intense look as she meets your eyes. “Are you hungry?“ You ask sympathetically.

She scoffs and gives you an annoyed look, but you can tell her heart isn't in it. “It's okay,” You tell her. “No one would know.”

You laugh, holding your hands up placatingly. “Who would I tell?” Shauna's lips quirk up, but you can tell she's seriously considering it. You place one hand on her shoulder and rub comfortingly at it. You slip your other hand down to gently grasp her wrist and bring it to her mouth. She resists at first but quietly breaks as she stuffs it in her mouth in one fluid motion.

“Hey,” You say with a roguish grin. “That's the spirit.” Shauna groans, her face still uncharacteristically unsure. You place a gentle kiss against her forehead before you finally manage to send her off to bed.

…

You wrinkle your nose slightly in disgust as you look down at your corpse. You can’t believe Shauna’s done you up like a clown; What happened to dignity in death? You were embarrassedly fond of the sight, however. Shauna was always awful with makeup and you found yourself glad that at least some things haven’t changed between the two of you. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” You ask with a grin. Shauna flinches, looking up quickly with a slightly guilty look on her face. She relaxes when she realizes you don’t seem that upset about it. You’d been away most of the day, finding it harder and harder to keep track of time the longer you were dead. You’d gotten tired of watching her sleep a long time ago and tended to just pop back out when she woke up.

“You just seem so lifeless.” She muses, staring at your corpse thoughtfully. You wince as she applies a crooked line of lipstick. How could someone be that fucking bad? It’s not like your corpse was shifting at all.

“That’s because I’m dead.” You suggest helpfully. Shauna sighs in exasperation, not even giving that a response. You thought she was awfully judgy for someone currently putting makeup on a corpse. You open your mouth to make another dead joke when the door to the meat shed opens. Oh shit. You have to hold your hand over your mouth to hide your grin at Shauna’s expense, but that doesn’t stop you from shaking with silent laughter.

Jackie watches the scene in absolute disbelief, her eyes quickly focusing on Shauna almost straddling your corpse as she ‘applies’ makeup to it. You can’t help but agree with the slight look of disgust as she takes in just how bad your makeup looks. Jackie looks more upset at that than the fact she was doing it in the first place. She looks achingly concerned for Shauna once she gets past her initial reaction. “Jackie,” Shauna starts but Jackie just shakes her head softly and walks back to the cabin presumably to tell the others.

“You should go after her.” You say quietly. Shauna jumps slightly, forgetting you are still there. She seems so unsure and sad as she looks up at you, almost like a child who’s gotten lost. She nods slowly and heads after her. You stay in the shack, not wanting to deal with that confrontation. You laugh softly as you hear Shauna yelling all the way from here. A real spitfire that one.

You watch quietly as your former friends lift your body onto the pyre. Shauna had fought and fought with the other girls about it, but you silently agreed with them. You hope that it will finally help Shauna move on, as much as you want to keep her out there you know it’s for the better. You wonder if you’ll disappear when your body is burnt, or if the flesh Shauna consumed would keep you tied together till she died as well. You found that you weren’t entirely opposed to either option.

Shauna looks over at you pleadingly but you just shake your head. You weren’t entirely sure what she expected you to do anyway, as no one else could see you. You suspected Lottie could sometimes, she stared off in your direction way too often. She never seemed to acknowledge it so you chose not to either. You still weren’t very happy with the rest of your friends for what they did, so you weren’t going to go out of your way to talk to her; You try not to think about it much so you don't need to address the double standard of forgiving Shauna for it. You hum in agreement as Shauna yells at the other girls for trying to take your clothes, shuddering at the thought of Travis of all people seeing you naked.

Shauna looks directly at you as she steps up to your corpse. “I was wrong.” She says so quietly that you can barely make it out. You weren’t entirely sure you were supposed to. “You weren’t the one that didn’t deserve the other.” She steps back as your body starts to burn.

You stare numbly as the flames lick up your body, not really sure how to feel about the whole thing. You give Shauna a small smile as you look through the fire at her. You walk with her back into the cabin and stare out the window long into the night completely captivated by the sight.

…

You stare down at your cooked body with a horrified expression. You'd seen the snow fall on it, sure, but never in your wildest dreams were you expecting this to be the result. Out of all the awful things that have happened to you since your plane crashed you were sure this had to be the worst. It was somehow weirder than dying, as that had at least happened in your sleep. The smell of your cooked flesh was absolutely nauseating even as a ghost. You startled slightly at the sound of the cabin door opening. “What… What smells so good?” You hear someone ask from inside.

You tense, moving defensively in front of your body. There's no fucking way that… You hesitate as you consider just how hungry Shauna has been lately. You let the rest of them starve before they got your body, but your girlfriend– your very pregnant girlfriend– was a different matter altogether. You reluctantly step out of the way as they start surrounding your corpse. There’s not anything you really could have done to stop them, but it still feels weird to let them do it without the slightest bit of protest.

You see her watching you as she walks out with the rest of them, looking horrified as she glances back and forth between you and your body. She seems to want to say something but can't find the words as she finally fixates on your body with an undeniable look of hunger on her face. You'd been on the receiving end of that look more times than you can remember, but you've never seen it in this context. You sigh as you realize you're going to let Shauna eat you one last time.

Shauna manages to tear her eyes away from your corpse as she looks up at you. She looks wild, verging on feral, and you're honestly surprised she managed to tear herself away from it. She looks around at the others and her eyes start to narrow and a familiar expression that you know means trouble starts to appear. You consider letting her shoo them away from your body, telling by the way they’re all staring at her you think they’d listen, but you knew this was finally something you could do for Shauna.

“It’s okay.” You say softly in the most compassionate voice you can manage given your general disgust with the entire situation. She looks startled as she turns her head slightly to look at you. “I want you to. It’s okay.” She shakes her head in disagreement, but you can tell her heart isn’t truly in it. Her eyes keep trailing back to your body with a slightly longing look on her face. The whole scene is heartbreaking, you wouldn’t wish this decision on your worst enemy. Still, Shauna needed to eat. If not for her, then for the baby.

“Let me take care of our baby.” You plead quietly in her ear, tearing up at the utterly lost expression on her face. “Please, Shauna? It's the only way I can.” You'd do anything for Shauna: this was nothing. It didn't even cost you anything. Shauna still looks reluctant, but you’ve convinced her to do things she wanted to do a lot less with a simple please before.

“She'd want us too,” Shauna says hesitantly as she slowly kneels down next to you. It sets a chain reaction as the others quickly join her in consuming you. You keep a hand on her shoulder as she ravenously digs in, but you can't bear to look. You're on the verge of finding out if ghosts can throw up as you try your best not to gag at the sounds of tearing meat. You think you might hear the squishing sound of your flesh being chewed on for the rest of your afterlife.

The things you do for love.

…

“-know that, but Tai’s supposed to be my friend!” Shauna argues. Jackie sighs, holding her hands up placatingly.

“I’m just saying that I’m here for you too,” Jackie says softly. Shauna softens as she gives her an apologetic look that Jackie just waves off. Jackie continues, “They may have all gone crazy, but it’s you and me against the world Shipman.” Jackie leans her head against Shauna’s shoulder as she looks back at the prayer circle. Shauna murmurs something in response that you’re not quite close enough to pick up, but you can tell from the affectionate look on Jackie’s face that it is at least positive.

“If it helps, I think Tai’s a bitch too.” You agree as you step closer. Shauna's lips quirk up as she gives you a knowing look. “She ate my fucking face, Shauna.” You defend. She gives you a fond look as she shakes her head and goes back to glaring at the cult. You’d missed your angry girlfriend, she'd spent far too much time being your sad girlfriend lately; The return to normality felt comforting. You tune out the sounds of Jackie and Shauna talking shit about the cult, content to just enjoy the moment.

Shauna’s relationship with the others seemed to get more and more strained the more Lottie seemed to focus on Shauna’s baby. You were hoping she and Tai found some common ground on this soon as Shauna desperately needed to talk to someone other than Jackie and a ghost. You trailed a bit awkwardly behind them as Tai, Shauna, and Jackie argued on the way back to the cabin. You were about to go away for a bit when Shauna suddenly cries out in pain. You rush forward to catch up with them, watching in concern as they try to get Shauna back to the cabin in the snowstorm.

Shauna holds on to Tai and Jackie’s hands as she screams her way through it. She tried desperately to hold your hand instead, but Tai grabbed it before you could get to it. Privately you were a little relieved about that given that you had no clue how she’d be able to explain that one away later. You sat by her head, clutching onto her the best you could. You murmured soothing words, but most of your energy was spent trying to stay present. You flickered back and forth as you tried to get a handle on your own panic, but managed to push past it by focusing on the fact that Shauna would literally murder you if you vanished right now.

You don’t bother to give Lottie’s little prayer circle a second glance until you catch “-hope Shauna doesn’t die.” You finally manage to tear your eyes away from Shauna to glare over at Mari, despite knowing that she can’t actually see you.

“Die?” Shauna asks panickedly, trying to look back at you. Jackie grabs at Shauna’s chin, forcing Shauna to look at her as she tries to soothe her worries. You can tell that Jackie’s barely holding it together herself by the look of intense fear that graces her face whenever Shauna looks away from her. Jackie looks up as she tries to find what Shauna was looking back for, and there's just a fraction of a second where you swore she saw you. Her eyes go wide and her mouth opens slightly in shock, but it seems to disappear as quickly as it appeared. She shakes her head in disbelief as her eyes seem to go straight through you once again. Regardless of your mutual curiosity, you both keep all of your attention focused on Shauna as she finally starts pushing.

…

You’re absolutely devastated as you stare down at Shauna. As her eyes start to flicker open you almost wish she’d pass out for a little longer, anything to stop her from feeling this. Shauna’s eyes slowly blink open as she looks around the room. Her eyes land on you and she smiles weakly before her expression suddenly becomes horrified as the truth slowly dawns on her. “How are you holding my baby?” She asks quietly as if she can barely force the words out. You flinch as you look away, not able to bear looking her in the eyes. You gently try to rock the crying baby in your arms.

“How are you holding my baby?” She repeats over and over again, sounding more and more desperate each time. She’s practically screaming it now, her voice cracking in the middle. Her baby is crying louder and louder in response and you're still frantically trying to calm him down. You give Shauna a helpless look as you try soothing him as she watches in horror. “No…” She says in disbelief, voice barely a whisper. You think it must hurt her to speak after all the screaming she’s done, but at the same time, you know that she’ll never hurt again. This isn’t what you wanted for her, but at least she’d never starve again.

Shauna sobs as she watches you hold her baby. She reaches forward slowly as if expecting her hand to go right through him and exhales shakily as she makes real solid contact with him. She glances down at her hand in surprise and you watch as she finally notices. You wonder if it was the sight of her own body, or if she finally took in the sounds of Jackie’s desperate screams as she rocked Shauna’s body back and forth.

Shauna glances back and forth between her corpse and her own arm. You knew firsthand how disorienting it was to wake up for the first time, so you gave her an encouraging smile as you finally got the baby to calm down. You smile down at him as you hold him more gently than anything else you’ve ever had. You’ve always thought babies were a little ugly, but you’ve heard it’s different when it’s your own. As you look down at him you can’t help but realize that it’s true. You glance back up at Shauna in awe: he looks so much like her, and nothing like Jeff. You were privately very pleased about that one.

Shauna slowly moves up to her knees, seeming unsure and awkward as she moves out of her own body. She gets her feet back under her, with all the grace of a baby fawn as she stumbles her way over to you. She sits down next to you and she shares your awed look as you slowly hand the baby to her. She seems unsure of what to think or feel about the baby. On one hand, there was the baby she’d spent nine months growing, on the other hand, there was her killer. As you let Shauna make her mind up you stare compassionately over at Jackie who’s gone absolutely hysterical over Shauna’s body. Tai and Van are both trying to pry her off of Shauna’s corpse, but Jackie’s a lot stronger than she looks as they don’t seem to get one finger off of Shauna. You knew that you would have been joining her if you were still alive, and your heart truly went out to her. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound of her screaming.

Shauna glances up at Jackie a few times with a guilty expression on her face. You knew she wanted to do something to help Jackie, anything really, but there wasn’t anything she could do. She focuses on the one thing she can, her baby. You watch happily as she coos down at him. You’d never thought much about Shauna being a mother, but you couldn’t deny that she seemed to be a natural at it. There was so much love in her eyes, despite the circumstances.

…

Shauna smiles as she gently rocks the baby in her hands. She stares at him in awe, even after all this time. You wrap your arm around her as you lean your head against her shoulder. Shauna rests hers on top of yours. She sighs quietly as she looks back up at the cabin. “I miss Jackie.” She admits. You gently rub at her shoulder as you try to comfort her.

“If it helps,” You offer up, “They’ll probably eat Jackie soon.” Shauna snorts in laughter, raising a hand to cover her face in embarrassment. She puts her hand down as she glares at you, the corners of her lips twitching up despite herself.

“Don’t joke about that.” She says, but you can't help but notice that she doesn’t disagree.

Sometimes, just sometimes, you almost swear that Jackie can see you just out of the corner of her eyes. She’ll whirl around in your direction, searching frantically for whatever it was that caught her eye. You hope she’ll make it out, but as you watch the cards being handed out you don’t find yourself all that hopeful. You smile affectionately over at Shauna; You’ve lost many things out here, but you’ve certainly gained some in return. You smile ear to ear as the baby grabs at your finger. You weren’t sure this was a happy ending, but it was enough.

Content Warnings: Major Character Deaths (You and Shauna), Infant mortality (the baby is also a ghost lmao), cannibalism, descriptions of seeing your own body, as well as descriptions of seeing/hearing it being eaten. It’s also implied that jackies gonna get merc’d soon 🤷. Bittersweet ending ig?

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader

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syndrossi · 3 months ago

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resonant ch28 dvd commentary

Favorite line(s):

Daemon cradled him to his chest, rocking him as though doing so might take them back to his first moments of life, fresh from the womb and bellowing fury at the world. I was not there for his first breath. I cannot live to see his last.

Sobbed like an absolute mess writing Jon's death, but especially this part. Daemon already has so much bottled-up grief and regret over missing their childhood and infancy, there's something absolutely gutting about him rocking Jon in his arms, like the baby he never held, trying to coax life back into him, this twisted parallel to holding a stillborn child, life snuffed too soon.

And the despair at living to see that moment, at wanting to die before seeing it. (Only to "realize" later that the only way either of them could have died alone like that would have been if he weren't there to protect them.)

Favorite detail(s):

Probably all the hidden meaning and hints/clues scattered throughout the vision? I haven't seen anyone pick up on the bigger (in terms of revelatory rather than being obvious) ones yet, but they're there to read back over later and be like "ohhhh." Or to reread and see if you can tease them out!

One thing I thought about a lot, and wanted to remain consistent about, was the limitations of whoever is sending the visions. The only things they have "seen" is Jon and Rhaegar's deaths, though it's unclear how. (Did the candle extract them from Jon's nightmares? Did the sorcerers peer into their possible futures before stealing them away?)

So that means Baelon's and Aemon's deaths were not visions they could have constructed, they had to have come from somewhere else. Daemon was there for Baelon's death, so it's easy enough to recreate that from his memory. But where did Aemon's death come from? That's sort of the linchpin, if Daemon ever fully remembers the visions. Showing him his father's death doesn't mean Jon's and Rhaegar's deaths were anything other than illusions meant to manipulate him. But the details of Aemon's death felt very vivid, very accurate--if Daemon were to confirm that, he might be forced to accept the other visions.

(So...where did Aemon's death vision come from?)

Uuugh there's so much I want to talk about with the visions and the stuff just before/after the visions, but it risks getting spoilery. Best I can do is suggest that people read and reread the candle's/warlock's/sorcerer's words.

Favorite dynamic:

Oh no, this is hard to pick. I actually loved writing the first scene with Daemon and Viserys. The whole: "Am I one of your problems?" "Do you know how to be anything but?" exchange was another favorite of mine for its breathtaking sharpness, and Viserys's immediate regret afterward. Ironically, I thought that this scene might be one to soften people a bit toward Viserys, but the candle has worked its spell quite well, with most taking the candle's side on the matter.

Viserys is, on the surface, someone constantly getting in his own way, barely more than competent at his job on a good day, and he doesn't have many good days anymore. And he's trying to juggle the mess of the family politics/division on top of everything else, including the Volantis wrinkle and sudden prophecy children + uncertainty over what to do there other than hope Daemon can make more, preferably girls.

He seems like the architect of his own loneliness and isolation, but it's not just him. You have spiders like Otto who benefit from him being isolated and encourage it. Would Otto prefer that Viserys show obvious favoritism towards Aegon? Sure, it would help his case. But his hands-off approach means that Otto can mold Aegon and Aemond to the future he wants.

And then there's the chronic, pervasive pain and fatigue which sap his strength/will and make it easier not to fight. To not steel himself for the conflict of a family supper and instead take the dreamwine so that he can stop hurting for the day. When he's not drinking dreamwine, he's drinking wine, which has a similar numbing effect.

The greatest irony is that in this scene, we get Viserys entrusting various responsibilities to Daemon, a gesture that actually means something. He's letting Daemon choose tutors (usually the queen's job) and he's letting him lead the candle investigation (usually something he'd probably let Otto do). They're fumbling toward an understanding, with Daemon recognizing his loneliness and attempts at connection, and Viserys choosing to trust Daemon--

And then the candle sidles in, determined to nip that in the bud.

Runner up dynamic is the dynamic duo of the twins at the very end, triaging Daemon and prescribing immediate cuddles and a lullaby. Rhaegar is more accustomed to a despairing, inconsolable parent, so he's able to take the lead here. He's also uninjured, so he can be a little more acrobatic than poor Jon.

Quick hitters:

We get a softer, older version of the cut HOTD scene where Daemon tries to convince Viserys to fly off with him on adventures/conquest. Daemon these days just longs for connection with his brother, so it's the Giant's Toe he offers instead as a refuge, with its childhood memories.

Jon is SO GRUMPY that Daemon left them with two Kingsguard to prevent escape. And the Cargyll brothers, no less, who are the most vigilant to shenanigans!

Another runner-up fave line(s) that made me chortle writing them: "Tiresome could mean many things. Merely contemplating Lord Reyne’s existence, much less interacting with him, was tiresome."

It's clear that Daemon's more than a little entranced even before the candle lights up, which is similar to how Rhaegar can get when he's "hearing" it.

This little gut-punch from @cloud-harasser's ao3 comment: "I also love how Daemon carries a piece of Aemon with himself always and feels him everyday in a way when he does his braids. I bet seeing Daemon on Caraxes with his braided hair haunts Rhaenys when the light is just right."

The death that Daemon is least affected by is Baelon's, which is mostly because he was there for it, and it was slow and drawn-out. He had time to prepare and even make his peace with it. He never got that closure with Aemon.

Aemon promising to help Daemon find a dragon when he returned. Only his body came back, and Daemon got Caraxes, so he did fulfill his promise in a way that Daemon never would have wanted.

Daemon's best internal sense of the vision is that he died early, some possible rebellion rose that resulted in Jon's exile and Rhaegar later fighting in it. Their dragons were either taken from them or lost early.

If the twins were overprotective of Daemon before, we are about to see them take it to new heights...

#resonant dvd commentary

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spyrkle4 · 3 months ago

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My thoughts on the ending of Danganronpa Despair Time Chapter 2

Man just when I think I can predict what'll happen in Drdt it throws a 180

I'm gonna hide the spoilerly stuff under the read more but first things first of my god... this was great!!! And it also makes me TERRIFIED for chapter 3 because chapter 2 was enough of an emotional rollar coaster, idk if the dev or anyone working on drdt will see this silly post bc a LOT of people have been sharing their thoughts on the ending of chapter 2 but I really enjoyed the ending

And that I don't mind if chapter 3 has a long wait bc my mental health is in shambles after this chapter

Okay now the spoilery stuff!

-First of all, I did find it interesting that the secrets (including David in his joker arc) was a bit of a red herring, the secrets weren't part of the murder/case at all, unless you count the part of Arturo threatening Eden over his secret, but after this trial EVERYONE's laundry has been aired and I wonder if that'll be touched upon in Chapter 3

-I think I've said this before but I love how the dead cast (Xander, Min, Arei, and now Ace) are just constantly mentioned, haunting the narrative, I'm pretty sure they're gonna keep that up

-Teruko having a mental breakdown after this, like homegirl spent ALL of chapter 2 trying to repress her grief over Xander and Min, but now that Arei, Ace, and potentially Levi are dead she ended up cracking, chapter 2 ending with her breaking down in the darkened trial room is heartbreakiiiing

-I read a couple posts before typing this and one of them mentioned that "MonoTV's comment about the most mastermind-y person getting punished" applied to Teruko almost being shot after telling Ace to kill MonoTV (she tried), the foreshadowing of this, like hey guys remember in chapter 1 when Ace was dragged into watching horror movies and he commented they were so scary he could've died from it :))

-Levi's really putting the L in Levi dude cant stop getting injured. but seriously I just wanna know WHY DID HE DO THAT LEVI OH MY GOD. LEVIIII

-MonoTV genuinely scared me, also the implications of who could potentially be running this show is also scaring me. and the implications that they're programmed to run this show until EVERYONE is dead.

-Not Ace's excecution being he gets psychologically tortured until its too much for his heart

-The fact it wasn't related to his talent but it was related to his constant fear of death is just evil.

-Also the way Ace goes out, before the ending I kind of thought his arc was a mirror to Arei's where that while she improved and started to trust some of the others, Ace became more cruel and distrustful, even to those still reaching out to him, he was so scared of dying that he ironically caused his own death by participating in the killing game and killing Arei

-And that he was so scared of dying, yet told MonoTV to go ahead with his execution so that the others could give Levi medical treatment and he even yells at Arturo that he CAN save Levi if he tries, dude in the end did change but sadly like Arei, he died before before being able to fully embrace that change

-also if you want to go more feral over the little details check out the names on the gravestones :))) I know at least ONE of the names is his only friend. And based his line of "I'm gonna have THREE deaths on my hands!" His friend might be deceased and he blames himself for it

-I was thinking "I sure hope the squeamish of the cast aka Charles and Rose shield their eyes during the execution" and then there was Whit's line of telling Charles to cover his eyes when Teruko is about to get shot

-Whit's sprite when the gang realize the elevators are closed is scaring me a little. its also scaring the Whit fans!

-That's all I'm gonna say about the ending, it was emotional and at least Ace was able to have some good moments before his end, I wonder what'll happen with the secrets aftermath including David causing problems on purpose, the cast realizing that the killing game is making them worse, and all the little lore that got dropped.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #just sparks things

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mumms-the-word · 6 months ago

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I know it’s been ten years but honestly? Super spoilery dragon age thoughts under the cut, mostly about Solas (you are warned)

I’m a bit sad people jumping on the Dragon Age train won’t necessarily get to experience the absolute roller coaster of realizing who Solas is. Like playing DAI for the first time and talking to him and befriending him or romancing him (if you so choose) only for that banger of an ending and then Trespasser later?

It’s a whole experience. I honestly wish I could do it all over again for the first time and seeing everything new

I romanced Solas as my very first DAI romance and I was UNPREPARED for the ending. I thought I had messed up the romance at first (I thought the same thing with Anders too after his endgame actions). I had to take a minute and feel my feelings and just sit with my mouth open. Not just at the whole disappearance thing, but the cheeky little post-credits scene

I wasn’t even that mad tbh I was just like amazed at the storytelling. I know that’s me-specific though

When my SIL started playing the games she went in spoiler-free and she asked me my recommendation for romances. I asked what she was playing and she said a Dalish elf, so I said “you have the most romance options possible, but I think you’d enjoy Cullen, because he’s sweet and you liked Alistair, or Solas, because he’s interesting and I know you like good character arcs”

She chose to go with Solas and my brother texted me later like “Lol you’re mean” and I texted back “honestly you only get to experience that final Solas reveal for the first time once and I truly believe it’s best done in a romance with him”

My SIL finished the game with a broken heart lol BUT she agrees with me that it was a good way to play the game for the first time. Going in blind and experiencing all those scenes for the first time through the lens of someone who trusts and perhaps even loves Solas.

For the record, she loves Solas as much as I do now lol

I get that DATV, formerly called Dreadwolf, was always going to be focused on Solas. We knew that at the end of Trespasser. But I do kinda hate that new fans might be coming in with the knowledge that Solas is just The Bad Guy or he’s the villain of the next game, and it might make them trust him less in DAI. Mostly because I think people these days are quick to judge and dismiss characters, and if they think they already know them, they won’t want to change their minds.

I’m probably overthinking it. But it is a little sad to me that all the marketing for DATV spoils the endings for the DAI. That’s all I guess

#if you haven’t played DAI read at your own risk #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age: the veilguard #solas #dai #dai spoilers #dragon age spoilers #datv #dav #da4 #datv spoilers #da4 spoilers

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uroboros-if · 1 year ago

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Happy (Early) New Years!! 🎊🎊

I want to wish everyone a Happy New Years before everyone gets too busy for the upcoming couple of days!! 💖💖

First of all, thank you so much for everyone's continued support of Uroboros. I just realized the IF's anniversary has already come and passed without my knowledge, which just shows how much time passes me by. 🥺

Without setting any goals for 2023, I've been more aimless with the IF, as everything I initially set out to do has been accomplished (releasing the demo, primarily). I want to set some tangible goals for 2024 this time, and NaNoWriMo has given me the confidence to believe I can accomplish them!!

Complete Chapter 2!!

Write a total of 100,000 words, 21 days a month for Uroboros specifically

Make new events on the Discord server 🎉

Become more active on Tumblr!! Want to write more asks!!

Get more amazing art for Uroboros!

The last bullet point has actually been discussed with an artist already... Work starts in January, hopefully! :DD Expect more RO art for all of them!!!

I will also be looking into sharing a public workspace so anyone can check my writing progress at any time and see that I am updating my word count regularly! I might even add some non-spoilery milestones for people to check on as well 💖💖

Overall, I am SO EXCITED for 2024!! Knowing that I've written these goals publicly and will be taking steps to keep myself accountable, I have no doubt I will meet at least my writing goals and hopefully collect other goals as huge bonuses 💕💕

Thank you, thank you, thank you again to everyone for following Uroboros thus far, and I hope to be a much better author next year that I feel like I was not able to become this year. 💖🎉

#uroboros-if #uroboros #uroboros update #new years #2023 #2024

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docholligay · 4 months ago

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I Saw the TV Glow

I’m essentially always up for a weird horror movie, so when I saw the ads for I Saw the TV Glow, I knew I was in. I don’t generally look up anything about a movie before I go, and in truth, prefer when a trailer doesn’t tell me all that much about what’s going to happen in a movie. This fit the bill!

Non-spoilery: Go in as blind as possible to this movie. There were a lot of things I thought this movie was going to be about, and it was not any of them. What it ended up being about was fantastic. This movie is really really going to resonate with some people my age and the ages around it. I don’t know if it will be as effective for younger people for a variety of reasons.

Bear in mind I saw this once several months ago, with spoilers below the cut.

OKAY. We’re in spoiler zone now, so let’s get into this: This movie is about the experience of being gay or trans, specifically in the late 90s to early aughts. We’ll get more into that later, but I want to put it on the table right now. This movie is horror in a Twilight Zone sense. That is in fact my favorite kind of horror! But if you’re seeing it billed as a horror movie, you may not get out of it what you are expecting.

The Pink Opaque is absolutely Buffy. So much so that Jetty felt called out multiple times: They use the Buffy font, there’s a cameo from a Buffy actress, etc. The movie is not trying to hide this very well. And the Pink Opaque is not a great show! It’s more of a carriage device for these two teenagers that have something in common, something that sparks a realization between them of who they actually are.

Throughout the show, as Owen gets more and more involved in wanting to watch the show with Maddy, we start seeing quotes in the background that could absolutely be on a high school board, but also…are very much about what is needed inm order to decide to unbury yourself, and live in the Pink Opaque. The one I remember the most, is because it’s one of my favorite quotes. “Without courage, all other virtues are meaningless.” I think about this quote all the time, because I think it is true. You can be kind, you can be intelligent, you can be loyal, but if you are a coward, those virtues mean nothing at the close of business.

It’s impossible for me to explain to people even 7 to 10 years younger tha me how different the world was then. I made the choice Maddy made and decided to live in The Pink Opaque as myself, but I love that it isn’t shown as consequence-free either. There are a lot of entanglements and difficulties and fights that came with that decision. You choose to live that way, in 2004, and you get to be the hero, but the hero has to constantly be on guard for the monsters around every corner. And this isn’t even me going, ‘poor pitiful me’--my life was leaps and bounds easier than 10 years before me--but it is a very very different landscape. Fucking no one bats an eye at me being gay now, realistically.

When Maddy comes back as Tara, and says this is who she always has been, and she had to dig herself out of a fucking grave to be that, I was there, baby! I am not going to get too much into my personal life, but the process of becoming Doc was not a bloodless one. Her coming back and telling him he can have it all, he just has to be willing to die for it--fucking loved that. I have so many memories of having the same conversations with people. We couldn’t have everything. My peers had to decide between having college paid for, having a place to live, and being out, and not everyone had the brass ones to go my way. I made an impulsive, insane decision, and I have never ever regretted it. My parents couldn’t have paid for college anyhow, so fuck it. But it was a choice other people had same as I did, and again, sitting in that dark school ‘planetarium” telling Owen he can live a harder but more real life, fuck. Again, without courage, ALL OTHER VIRTUES ARE MEANINGLESS. I do genuinely feel like this movie might be a miss for a generation whose parents and social circles were simply awkward about it at worst.

Not scary in the usual sense, but I think a great psychological horror about the costs of doing business, in this life.

You’re poisoned, you’re buried alive, and that line about, “And you’ll never even know you’re dying.” I mean, sometimes I feel like I was a near miss from living my entire life closeted, as bizarre as that sounds for someone who left home over the matter. I am a person who just makes decisions, and what if I had made the decision to shut that part of myself off, as Owen did?

My favorite part of this movie is when Owen shuts that part of himself off, and we see him living his life, and he has a family but we NEVER SEE THEM. Because they aren’t a real part of him either, they are all a part of the set dressing of the life he has convinced himself he wants. He is going to be a man, he is going to live as a man and tell himself that’s what he really wants. And then to end up in the bathroom, to end up vomiting all that moon juice and knowing that he has been dying inside the whole time? I thought it was such a beautifully sad ending.

IF I had a criticism of this movie, there would be a couple handfuls:

It can be a little on the nose, now and again. I think Maddy-as-Tara’s monologue goes on a little long and loses some of its punch.

It doesn’t lean quite as hard into the unreliable narrator that is Owen as it could, and so I could see people going, “Oh, Tara was completely right, and Owen made the wrong choice” when even within the narrative, it is telling us that to live in the Pink Opaque is to kill who you are now. That is…not nothing. Owen has, for example, a real relationship with his mother. That’s something that can be lost. Because both me and the author made the same choice, its easy for us to write it as ‘correct’, and honestly it was only on stepping back for a bit that I’m like, “Hm, while this does a better job than 90% of the movies about this I’ve seen, i wish it would have outlaid the cost a little more” but I would want to rewatch it before I made that a HARD criticism instead of a soft one. I was still figuring out everything about the movie, and so didn’t have a chance to really analyze it in this lens.

I had another criticism, but I actually do want to watch it again before I commit to it, upon reflection.

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thebarontheabyss · 1 year ago

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Hello everyone! Down with covid (insert "so 2020 and late!" joke here) and the new update will have to wait for next week :(

But worry not! I'm actually very productive in the meantime and have begun to write the complete character arcs for the story, which was something I never got to, so thanks, covid, I guess.

Sharing everything will be, of course, super spoilery, but I thought I might share some of my thoughts after writing the endings for each character!

No actual big spoilers ahead, but still might want to avoid if you hate any sort of spoilers, even nonspecific ones.

Hastur His arc was mostly realized in my head already; I just had to put it into writing. I just... love this character so much. I can't wait for you to know him - the real him. Hope you'll still love him - I sure do. His story is about the meaning of forgiveness, guilt, and hope.

Yaga

Yaga's arc turned a lot cooler than I thought it would - with a lot of scheming and politics involved. She actually has tons of possible endings. Yaga's arc theme is a story of faith in humanity and its innate goodness.

Shelly

Shelly's story is going to surprise you. That's all I have to say. It's super sad and wholesome all the same - it's about coming to terms with the past, learning to let go, and finding peace and purpose.

Peisinoe

Their story became darker than I expected, but the conclusion is so satisfying. If you ever grew up with a talent ruined for you by the demands of your peers, you might relate. It's a story about searching for meaning and making peace with the unchangeable.

He Without Name

I just want to say that I am so sorry. Please don't hurt me.

Death

I might never write another character as intricate as Death, and I'm ok with it.

Lilith / Damian

This turned out way more emotional than I had thought it would??? Get ready for a date in hell and some redemption arcs!

Morgan / Morgana

Damn, I kind of regret I added the option to avoid them in the game. I'll have to work hard to make the story without them as inspirational as it is with them.

The Raven

Well, he's too connected to the overall plot to say something explicit about but I loved that I wrote him as a temporary character and he became basically the most important to the plot. GO RAVEN GO

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highwayphantoms · 29 days ago

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Happy friday! "Can you walk? I'd be happy to carry you" for Rook/Davrin!

Thank you for the prompt! Had some fun with this one, hehe.

For @dadrunkwriting (VEILGUARD FIC)!

Slight spoilers for the middle of the game, but nothing that spoilery lol.

A nice walk in Arlathan Forest with Davrin and Assan. It should have been the easiest, calmest hour of the whole week.

And then they’d taken one wrong step. It was a familiar sequence of events: their ankle went sideways, Aquile collapsed into an awkward heap, and grumbled a halfhearted curse. To add insult to (mild) injury, Davrin had seen the whole thing. Before Aquile could even begin to get back up off the ground, he asked, “You okay, Rook?”

Aquile sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, I’m fine,” they said.

He did not look convinced. “Do you usually fall over for no apparent reason?”

“Just twisted my ankle,” they replied. Not entirely true, but easier than trying to explain that their ankles were wobbly pieces of shit. “Mind giving me a hand up?”

As Davrin stepped closer, Assan dropped from the sky with an inquisitive chirp. The griffon peered at them for a moment, as if assessing whether his presence was needed, then evidently decided it was, as he planted his butt on the ground to watch while Davrin offered Aquile his hand. Aquile took it, and Davrin promptly hauled them back to their feet.

Much to Aquile’s irritation, the ankle that had folded under them twinged painfully as they put weight on it again. “Great,” they muttered under their breath.

“Rook…”

“I might have done slightly more than twisted it.” That was new—in all the times they had rolled an ankle, it had never done any real damage—but then they realized one critical factor. It was the same ankle they’d broken at Weisshaupt. Though they’d fought a fucking Archdemon on it while broken, they thought it had healed up nicely afterwards. Clearly not.

“Can you walk on it?” Davrin asked, his expression entirely too sympathetic for their tastes. “I’d be happy to carry you.”

Their cheeks burning, Aquile glanced away from him. It was ridiculous, really. He was just being nice. There was no reason to be embarrassed. And while Aquile was quite certain they could walk on it—it would just hurt the rest of the way—some part of them very much wanted to take him up on that offer.

Well, fuck. When did that happen?

Not that it was unusual for Wardens to get together. It happened all the time—after all, it was hard to have a relationship with someone who wasn’t privy to the countless secrets you were obligated to protect. Still, that didn’t make it a good idea. Wardens, after all, have a marked tendency to die.

“Uh,” they said, as eloquent as ever. “I mean, I survived Weisshaupt with a broken ankle—”

“And multiple broken ribs, a concussion, and more bruises than Assan has feathers,” Davrin said, deadpan. “None of which you told anyone about. All due respect, Rook, but I think it would be best to head back to the Lighthouse.”

They scowled at him. “And, what, you’re going to carry me halfway across Arlathan Forest?”

“Guess so.” A beat passed, then Davrin shot them a smirk that quite plainly said you don’t fool me.

“Well, if you insist,” Aquile replied with mock offense. “My knight in shining armor, and all that.”

He chuckled and took another step towards them, closing the distance between them to mere inches. Aquile was not that much shorter than he was, and yet he picked them up as easily as if they weighed nothing more than a sack of flour. They made a small, surprised sound, and as undignified as it was to be draped across someone’s shoulders like a hunter’s prize catch, Aquile was far more interested in how warm Davrin was. Feeling rather like a spoiled cat, they settled in for the walk back to the eluvian.Of course, being a healer, Aquile could have fixed their own ankle with a little delicate spellwork, but if it meant getting such dotingon from the big, scary monster hunter, well… who were they to complain?

#jay writes #dragon age #da fic #aquile thorne

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hollow-lime-green · 5 months ago

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hi!! if it’s not too spoilery, could you tell us a little bit about how haibara’s technique works? i think i understand but i’m also quite slow so i don’t completely trust myself lol. loving 2sorcs like a two dollar whore and can’t wait to see what comes next!!

Ooh twist my arm, anon! I love what I went with for Haibara's technique so I'm always happy to talk about it. Unfortunately since i am not a sorcerer I don't get a power buff from sitting my audience down and breaking the fourth wall to explain everything explicitly (doctors audiences hate this one weird trick clunky worldbuilding device!)

I'll put the full explanation under the cut. It's not spoilery for the fic, but who knows, some people might want to leave it up to mystery!

So, his technique is heavily based on Twink Ponytail Haruta's technique, which is absorbing miracles and storing them as extra life. Like Takaba, the strength comes from Haruta not knowing how it works*. With his notebook, he's like, half figured it out, kind of like Haruta knowing he's lucky.

Haibara's technique, explicitly, is that he has realizations about people/things, then those get wiped from his memory and stored as charges like Haruta's miracle marks. Later, he can use those charges to get a supernatural insight - something he couldn't possibly know/figure out on his own. The use case for it would be like "Hi Universe! Long time, no talk! Could you please tell me if and where this cursed spirit has a weak point? Thanks bestie!"

Because Haibara is constantly being bombarded with Suguru and Satoru doing gay shit that reveals that they are gay and in love with each other, and the universe is constantly sucking up those realizations (for my amusement), his charges are usually topped off, lol. It's a jujutsu perpetual energy generator!

*Side tangent here, but the way jujutsu powers are understood by their user is kind of mind boggling inconsistent. Because you have shit like Nanami's that is *so* technical and there's no way that you could just figure it out without a direct "heavens pop into your head and give you a 20 minute explanation". I think somewhere out there, there's something where Gege says that a technique user basically does get an inherent guidebook. (Yet another plot hole for JJK0 if you think about it, but, eh, whatever.) 10 Shadows would be impossible to use without a guide, but you could justify it because the Zen'in family has centuries of notes.

Obviously some of the CTs require independent study to push the bounds of (Cursed Puppet stuff, Blood Manipulation, etc.) so we know that not everything is explained to a user with a given CT, but they have to have enough info to figure it out for themselves, with the critical component being creativity + insanity.

Narratively, that's kind of confusing, but it's also very inspiring for fic writers like me. You see Megumi do stuff like his barrierless domain, and the author basically says "well if that's how the USER thinks it works, then yeah, it now works like that". It's cool. When you think about jujutsu, especially with binding vows, it makes sense that the only real limits on what you can do are self-imposed mental limits that you have to transcend. (Also CE output, so you can balance the verse lol).

My kingdom for a universe where Miwa could snap and go Sicko Mode…

#fire in your mouth #ask #2sorcs #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen analysis #theorycrafting #jujutsu theorycrafting

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thewertsearch · 1 year ago

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Ask Comp 19/10

That's true - we don't know for sure that Trollian can fully emulate Sburb's surveillance capabilities.

If the trolls were sufficiently motivated, though, they wouldn't actually need to. Sollux could probably hack one of the kids' computers, to gain access to their Sburb viewport - although if he did, he wouldn't need a camera to snoop on their messages.

Is there a paranoia Aspect? I think I've finally found my calling.

anonymous asked: heya! ive just finished re-reading your ENtIRE liveblog and i to send asks about some stuff but i waited to finish so im sendind everything at once! (im gonna send stuff in a bunch of small asks so cat can stop just one instead of the whole thing in case of accidental spoilers) (aslo hi cat!) (also its ninnoy, havent sent an ask in a while but i changed my pfp to something slightly more spoilery so im in anon now) [...] the jade pen pal thing, do you have any new theories on who it could be?

None! I'm sure that it's someone derived from Grandpa Harley, but everything else is a mystery.

I have no particular theories about who he is, how he knows Jade, where he got his hands on so many endgame weapons, or why he's got such an antiquated accent if he's watching movies from the 80s. I assume time travel is involved, but that doesn't really narrow anything down in a comic like this. He (she? they?) is a complete enigma, and I'll just have to wait to learn more.

ALsO WHEREs YOUR sONAs? we havent seen them in so long im afraid sahlle might have actueally died of meteor strike (joking of course) also have you realized that "sally" and "cat" are both one letter of from a valid kid name? you could lend her one of your "L"s

I've actually been workshopping some Quest stuff for Sahlee this week! I suppose I'd need to figure out her Title first, though, and for that, I'd need to get a more solid idea of her personality, and how her experiences on Alternia have shaped her.

in one of your last posts you seemed to imply that the multiverse exists inside the timeline, but ive always read it as the opposite, the timeline inside the universe that would explain why the trolls can pick any time from the humans universe to talk to them but cant have private conversations with their own futute/past selves, its not an inherent part of trollian, they are just outside the human timeline (the memos are still trollian being time fucky) dont know if that makes any difference but its a thought also i realize the tag may be unecessary due to my quirk, but its too late to stop now

(NOTE: quirk omitted for readability, but the substitutions are [t -> 7, s -> 2] - sort of a variant of Sollux's quirk. I actually don't think we've seen any quirks which add a 7, so the voice here is distinct from any trolls we've seen so far. I like it!)

Originally, my assumption was that each timeline contained a duplicate of the entire multiverse. Doomed timelines don't seem to let you communicate with other universes/dimensions, though, so they don't need to contain other sectors of reality. I'm currently of the opinion that doomed timelines only contain an instance of the dimension they were doomed in. The only timeline which contains the entire multiverse is the Alpha.

This mechanic keeps doomed timelines simple, but in-universe, I don't know why it exists. Much like the Alpha itself, it's a mystery I can only speculate about.

has the shipping chart been updated since the last time we saw it? also you (at some point) said that equius<>feferi was a controversial ship so i had to go back to check the notes and i was the only person i found talkig about it so i guess im the whole controversy? if thats the case i would like to thank you for recognizing me as the equius<>feferi number 1 hater (all jokes of course)

I got a few skeptical asks about Equius<>Feferi, but you're the only one who discussed it on the post itself. I guess by some measures, you are the most dedicated hater, because your hate was posted publicly! 🤣

I could make one or two changes, but I don't want to post a new chart until the kids meet the trolls in person, hopefully at the end of the Act!

The Scratch, naturally - but I'm also looking forward to seeing exactly how WV was Exiled. He's currently on Skaia, and Jack has lost interest in him, so who's actually sending him through the portal?

Tavros is barely a presence on the Land he's ostensibly the hero of, and all of his actions are being dictated by a third party who can physically control his body. This third party does not acknowledge or respect Tavros's own desires, effectively forcing him to play the game in a way that she personally approves of.

She claims it will make him stronger.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: That was a long, thorough, and fantastic response! It's fascinating seeing your opinion on these things-- and I'm glad to see that considering the questions we've given you seems to have made you more paranoid. But I'm just not entirely sure you're paranoid ENOUGH. Not yet. Much like how you just found that "BREEZE" quote in your Breath research, back at around the time you've now reached in the comic, we had dozens of theory-miners combing back through everything that had been said and shown in Homestuck, over and over again, searching for anything we might have missed that might have been of some importance. [...] So, uh….. how do I put this… Would you prefer to strictly handle that sort of thing all by yourself, as you've said? Which I'd agree is still the best way that you should keep to, for the most part? Or would you mind if I gave you just a CRUMB of an example, only one? A tiny bit of text that we in the theory community only found at about the time you've reached in the comic, even though it was more than a thousand pages earlier?

Shit, this is such a dilemma. I'm honestly really torn.

See, I'd probably find old fandom theories absolutely fascinating to analyze. I'd love to know how closely my ideas align with those of the early Homestuck fandom, and whether I'm saying anything really out-of-pocket. My analysis of Sollux's ~ATH script was apparently an original theory, and it's honestly one my proudest moments.

But that's also sort of the problem, isn't it? If I dive too deeply into other people's fan theories, they'll start to affect my own - and if I'm introduced to a really compelling fan theory, it could end up replacing any homegrown theories that I could have developed in lieu of it. If someone had send me a well-reasoned ~ATH theory before I did my own analysis, I'd probably have been less motivated to make the analysis in the first place. After all, many of my questions would already have been answered by a clever theory I just read.

People are free to send me their own off-the-cuff opinions on what's happening in the comic, or their own takes on any meta I write. I get a lot of asks like that, and they're some of my favorites. There are also asks which spoil a little too much, but I'm still interested in their takes, so Cat's saving them for later. We don't really delete asks - we just delay the ones that aren't necessarily appropriate for a blind liveblog.

Obviously there's a fine line here, and whether a given ask is a theory or just an opinion is a little subjective - but in my opinion, the influence that asks and submissions have had on my analysis has been relatively minor. I don't think many of my theories have been spawned from an ask, or killed by one.

This is a little different, though, because it's part of a theory that was crowdsourced over several years. It doesn't sound like something that could be inferred by an individual, so I'm not sure if it's something an individual liveblogger should necessarily know about? If I start crowdsourcing my analysis, my theories will be less Wertsearch and more fandom consensus, and I don't think I'd enjoy that as much.

I really want to know, but I think I'll enjoy the liveblog more if I don't. When I finish the comic, I'll gleefully analyze any fan theory that anyone sends me - but for now, I'll just have to wonder, and come up with theories of my own!

Yeah, we've really been getting into it with Vriska lately. I've enjoyed trying to explain and predict her actions, and I'm glad people don't think I'm going overboard when trying to analyze her.

When a character does something interesting, I don't like to move on until I have a theory about why they did it. Sure, it may be refuted later, but it needs to be something that's consistent with what I currently know about their personality.

Vriska takes a particularly long time to puzzle out in this way. Her motivations are derived from a complex web (lol) of factors, including Scratch, Spidermom, her rivalry with Terezi, her horrendous relationship with Tavros, classism, teenage hormones, quadrant politics, highblood society and the Alternian culture of violence. They all inform her decisions, and any combination of them could have been the catalyst for the latest Vriska Incident.

I want characters to make sense to me, and Vriska is written to deliberately challenge my attempt to achieve this. Her meta is fun to write, so I'm glad it's also fun to read!

#full liveblog #asks #act 5.2

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