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mytherapyisreading14 · 20 hours ago

Text

Between Pregnancy and Prison

Summary: You find out you’re pregnant, unfortunately a couple of weeks after Spencer got arrested in Mexico

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Summary says it all, nothing to add

Word Count: 3k

It is late in the afternoon and gray clouds have gathered. Your apartment is quiet, aside from the soft dripping of rain and the gentle clink of a cup that JJ has just placed on the table. You sit on the old sofa, knees drawn up and hands nervously buried in your lap. You stare at the pregnancy test lying on the table in front of you.

You've been feeling exhausted for weeks, constantly tired, struggling with nausea and always having that slight pulling sensation in your abdomen. You convinced yourself it was just the stress of Spencer being wrongfully arrested. But deep down you knew something was wrong. You weren‘t the only one who noticed this and it didn‘t take long before JJ came up to you and asked you about it.

You were sitting at your desk at work, head in your hand, when you felt the familiar feeling of nausea and a dull ache in your abdomen. Again. It wasn't the first time this week that you felt this way. You had barely eaten anything, but even what little you tried to eat was hard to digest.

"Do you need a break?" JJ asked suddenly, her voice concerned. You looked up. Her eyes still sparkled, but there was something different in her gaze - something that reminded you of your condition. The last few weeks had left their mark not only on you, but also on the rest of the team.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, trying to put on a smile. "Just this damn nausea... and this stomach ache that just won't go away." JJ looked at you intently, as if she didn't fully believe your words. She shook her head slightly.

“You’ve told me about it many times. But it really doesn't sound good when it keeps happening. And you seem pretty... exhausted too. Are you really feeling this bad just because of what happened to Spencer? Or could there be something else behind it?”

You stared at your desk for a moment, the words so clear you almost got a lump in your throat. “What do you mean?” you asked quietly, although you had an idea where the question was going.

JJ took a step closer, her expression becoming even more serious. "I know you're dealing with so much right now, but... have you ever thought that there might be something else behind it?"

There was a moment of silence where you felt like the air around you suddenly became even denser. You swallowed. The nausea in your stomach increased. “You meant...maybe pregnancy?” you whispered.

JJ nodded carefully, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, it could be. I know this isn't really the time to think about this, but... sometimes the body has other signals that we don't immediately understand. Maybe it would help you just get some clarity.”

You sighed deeply and rubbed your stomach with one hand. The thoughts swirled in your head. You couldn't deny it. The last few weeks had been so chaotic that you hadn't even really noticed the changes in your own body. But somehow...somehow it was true. It didn't just feel like stress. There was something else there.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. “What if this is all just… stress-related?” you asked. “Then at least you’ll be safe,” JJ said calmly. “It could also just be because you are extremely stressed and your body is reacting to it. But maybe ruling it out will help you.”

You hesitated first, then nod slowly. You knew she was right. "Okay, you’re right,” you finally said, taking a deep breath. “Can you maybe come over then? I… I don’t know if I can do this alone.” JJ smiled as she met your eyes. She saw the pain in them.

“Of course, I’ll come over. We'll do this together, don't worry. Once you know what it is, you can finally think more clearly again.” You suddenly felt a little bit lighter. It was as if the thought of not having to go through this uncertainty alone gave you the space to breathe a little again.

“Thanks, JJ,” you whispered, trying to smile. “No problem,” she said with a smile. "You're not alone. We’ll do this together,” she said before you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom once again.

So now, after JJ convinced you to take a pregnany test, the two of you are sitting in your living room. “Are you ready?” JJ asks quietly. She sits in the armchair next to the sofa and eyes you with a mixture of concern and understanding. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. But remember, you need to know what’s going on.”

You close your eyes for a moment. Your thoughts are a chaos of joy and fear, of hope and uncertainty. Yes, you and Spencer always said you wanted to have children. You talked about a life together, about marriage and children and the future. But now everything is messed up.

„I... I don’t know, JJ,” you say, your voice shaking. “There’s just so much that’s going wrong right now. Spencer is still in prison, and what if it's months or worse - years - before he gets out? What if I burden him with this news while he’s sitting in this stupid cell?”

JJ leans forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “You will not burden him with this news. It's a decision you have to make together. And if you're happy, then he'll be happy too. He always wanted to have children. You too. And you need to know if you’re really pregnant.” You take a deep breath. Your mind is racing.

What if Spencer really had to stay in prison that long? You don't want to put this burden on him, but you can't just move on without knowing what's really going on. And you also know that you can no longer live in uncertainty.

You feel like you're stuck, caught between the future you imagined and the frightening reality in which Spencer is still trapped. “Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I'll do it. I want to know.”

JJ nods without saying a word and stands up to pick up the test. She puts the test on the table and looks at you as if to give you time to calm down before daring to look at it. “Are you sure?” JJ asked one last time, standing next to her and looking at her sideways. You nod, your heart beating faster and the nervousness settling in your limbs.

But there's also a small, quiet joy within you - the idea that the dream you and Spencer have always wanted can finally become a reality. You grab the test and slowly turn it over. Your breath hitches as you looked at the results. Two red lines. Clearly.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, a smile spreading uncertainly on your lips. You couldn't help but put your hand over your mouth for a moment. It's so surreal. On the one hand, you are overjoyed. This is what you have always wanted. But at the same time, there's this huge insecurity that you can't shake. What if Spencer isn't there in time to experience it?

“It’s positive,” JJ says softly and smiles. Her voice is calm, but you can see the joy in her eyes. “You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.” You nod, but your eyes fill with tears immediately.

You are happy, so incredibly happy, but also so full of doubts. What should you say to Spencer? How would he react if he heard it? He needs to know, but the thought of breaking that news to him in his current situation somehow feels so... wrong.

“What if he can’t live to see it?” you finally ask, your voice shaky. “What if he doesn’t get out fast enough? How am I supposed to do all this alone?”JJ sits back down on the chair and takes your hand.

“You are not alone. You have me, you have your family, you have the team. And Spencer - even though he's in prison - he's still a part of it. He will be part of this miracle. And when he comes back, he’ll be happy to experience it with you,” she says. “But… the timing…” you start uncertainly, “what if it gets too much for him?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, it's not the perfect time. But you know what? There will never be a perfect time. Sometimes you just have to have the courage to take the next step. And you'll see that it turns out to be the right one at some point." You lower the test slowly, but still keep your eyes on it.

The joy you feel is overwhelming - you can already imagine a life with Spencer and a baby. But at this moment uncertainty prevails. You don't know what the future will bring and it scares you. “I’ll tell him right away,” you finally whisper. JJ nods and stands up to hug you.

“That's exactly what you should do. You two will get through this together. No matter what happens.” You close your eyes and hug JJ tightly, the pregnancy test still in your hand. A new chapter has begun, and even if you don't have all the answers, you know you've taken the first step.

You've made the trip to prison many times, but today everything is different. The rain has evaporated to a light drizzle, covering the streets in a dull haze. You can barely concentrate, the thought of the news you're about to tell Spencer making your heart beat faster.

Part of you is nervous, the other is happy - it's news you've both always wanted for the future - but now that the moment has come, you feel strange and uncertain. What if he doesn't respond the way you hope? What if that's the last thing he wants to hear in this situation? You can understand it to a certain extent.

When you reach the prison building, you get out and walk through the gate, the sound of the massive door closing is ringing in your ears. The waiting room is the same as always - gray walls, worn chairs and the constant feeling of separation that you can never completely get rid of here. The minutes barely seemed to pass as you wait for him to come in. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

“He’s coming soon,” the security guard says without further ado as he stares at his monitor. You nod and try to organize your thoughts. You sit down, hands nervously on your thighs, then your belly. Your gaze is focused on the window in front of you, through which you will soon see Spencer.

Your eyes are already burning from the tears you desperately have to hold back in order to appear strong. But when the door opens and you see Spencer, his familiar face behind the glass that you miss so much, it feels like your heart is being ripped out.

Spencer looks at you through the window and there is the same exhaustion in his eyes, the same weariness that is in your own eyes. But you can see much more than that - He doesn't belong here. That's the thought that haunts you every time you see him in this environment. You can't imagine what it must feel like to be trapped, innocent, in a system that seemed to be turned against you.

It breaks your heart to see him here. Your eyes fill with tears that you can't hold back, despite your best efforts. “Oh, Spence,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently place your hand on the glass, as if you could reach him.

He sits down on the bench on the other side of the glass, and as soon as he looks at you, he immediately notices that something is wrong. He frowns and looks at you worriedly, he also puts his hand on the window as if he wanted to touch yours, even though he knows it won't work. It hurts him to see you like this.

“Hey, hey…” Spencer said quietly when he noticed your tears, and his shoulders immediately tightened. "What's wrong, angel?" His voice is soft, almost fragile. “You have to stop crying. It hurts me to see you like this. I can't reach out to you and hold you in my arms. I can’t comfort you. It breaks my heart.”

You hastily wipe away your tears, trying to regain control of your emotions, but the mix of joy and pain makes it almost impossible. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you search for the right words. “It’s just… I’m sorry. I... I just wanted to tell you how much I miss you,” you say.

You need a moment to calm down. “I come with… big news today.” Spencer raises an eyebrow and his gaze becomes even more attentive. “News?” he asks, as if he wants to get every word out of you, but at the same time he also feels the burden you carry with you. It's obvious you have something more important to say.

You take a deep breath and wipe away the last of your tears, even as the emotions continue to rise within you. “I've been feeling worse for the last few weeks. I thought it was just stress after everything that happened. I somehow kept telling myself that. But JJ noticed that I had other symptoms that I just ignored. She said I should take a pregnancy test.”

Spencer stays silent, his eyes still worried, but now a hint of foreboding seems to be stirring in his eyes. “And what did the test show?” he asks cautiously, as if he’s not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. You can't stop yourself from smiling, even though your voice is still shaking. “It’s positive,” you say and the words themselves are creating a different reality.

The moment you said it feels surreal. It's something you've always wanted, a future you've always dreamed of. But at this moment you are not sure whether it all really fits into this world. Spencer is in prison. You are at home, alone. But you know you have to share this message with him. You are going through this together.

“You’re going to be a dad, Spence,” you whisper, and despite the uncertainty you feel, you can’t help the smile that’s starting to form in your eyes. You stare at the glass between you, your hand still placed on it. When you look at Spencer, you notice how his eyes are shining.

He can't quite hide the tears, but there's also a smile on his lips that's so warm that it instantly makes your heart skip a beat. It is a smile that radiates hope and love despite the circumstances, despite the prison and all the fear that stands between you.

“I’m so happy,” he finally says, his voice shaky as he forms the words. “I can hardly believe it. You're going to be a mom. We're going to be parents." He takes a deep breath, and you can hear the relief and joy in his voice, but also the pain that comes with it. “But I should be with you. I should be there to help and support you all the time,” he continues, a glimmer of desperation entering his eyes. “But I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

You feel your heart clench. You know he wants to be with you, to hold your hand, to comfort you, and to experience this together. “Spence,” you whisper, voice soft but full of conviction. “I want nothing more than for you to be here with me. That we experience this together. But we’ll get through it. And I won’t do it alone. I have my friends. I have the team - JJ, also with children, who will help me - we will manage it somehow.”

You feel your voice take on a hint of certainty as you continue. “And we’ll keep trying to get you out of here as quickly as possible. I promise you, we'll do everything we can to get you back with me. I'm now in my eighth week, Spence. We still have a little time, and I will fight to get you back here before the birth date. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure you’re there when our baby comes.”

Spencer lets out a small, shaky breath as he hears your words. For a moment he just sits there, the smile gone, and yet in his eyes you can see that deep love and gratitude flowing through him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are so incredibly strong. And you are here, despite everything that has happened. You're still there for me. I… I love you so much.”

You swallow, the lump in your throat almost too big to swallow. You want to tell him so many things, make so many promises. But your voice cracked as you replied, “I love you too, Spence. And I will always be there for you. We will get through this together, no matter what happens. We have each other. And that’s the most important thing.”

But suddenly you hear the bang of the door and the prison guard appears in the window, a sign that the time is around o'clock. “I'm sorry, unfortunately time is up. You have to go now,” he says. You take a deep breath and withdraw your hand from the glass.

You give him one last look and you know that this moment is yours - even if it's too short. You smile at him through the glass. “I have to go, Spence,” you say quietly, your voice almost breaking. “But I will come back. And we will do it. We’ll get you out of here soon. You’ll be with me again, I promise you.”

Spencer nods, his eyes following you, and there's an unspoken promise in his expression. “I'm waiting for you. I love you,” he says goodbye. “I love you too,” you say, your voice firm and full of determination. You let your gaze rest on him again, then you slowly stand up, turn around and leave, the thought of him and what you will go through together in your heart.

The hallway is empty as you close the door behind you. You know you don't have to walk this path alone. And you will do everything you can to bring Spencer back - for the team, for yourself, and for the little life you will soon create together.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #prison reid

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e-vasong · 2 days ago

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36 for the prompt?

SOME BORGWIN FOR YOU, NIC!!! May not make sense if you haven't read my Star Trek AU for DBDA.

TW: Attempted suicide

36 - Total Control

….

On the fourth day, Edwin tries to kill himself.

If he were more resilient, if he were stronger, his assimilation would be nearly done. But he isn’t. His body takes poorly to the implants, and at this rate, the process could take weeks.

Edwin is the sort of inferior specimen that the Borg would otherwise cull. He knows that. But he also knows the precise location and relative distance of almost every populated planet in this system and the next, including several who have only made First Contact in the past few years. He’s the one who mapped them after all, and that is the sort of knowledge that makes him worth assimilating.

He waits for an opportunity to escape, at first. Then when one does not present itself, and when his condition begins to deteriorate, he waits to die. Except he doesn’t. He begins, very slowly, to get better. To become only more conscious as his limbs and organs are taken one by one. Some are replaced immediately, others left as open and empty wounds for now.

The Borg are with him always. They’re physically all around him, of course, some hanging limply from their wires like cadaverous marionettes and others jammed gracefully into the walls in perfectly compact tangles of limbs, dim-eyed and still in their stasis.

There is a terrible moment on the third day where they crack open his skull and reach inside. He feels nothing at first, then a strange, mushy sort of give and—

They’re inside him now. A colony of ants crawling through the folds of his brain, a second set of neurons that he can feel, marching in perfect lockstep to the beat of a silent drum.

And Edwin knows that he’s a bit of a coward. His family had expressed that very clearly when he shied away from a more glorious role in command, then again when he declined riskier field science roles so he could make star maps instead.

But he is not quite such a coward that he would let the Borg kill millions with the knowledge he possesses.

It should be simple, really, to unplug himself—he hasn’t fully taken to his artificial lungs yet, so they have him on a ventilator. One simple tug, and that will be it. He’ll suffocate, and it will no doubt be terrible beyond description.

A worthy trade, if it saves all those lives.

He has to stretch an arm across his body to reach the machine. The other has already been amputated — the port in place but the mechanical prosthetic not yet installed. It takes three halting tries for him to close his hand around the wire.

And then he goes no further. His fingers freeze, every muscle and nerve locked into place. Even his trembling stops.

The Borg’s awakening to his plans is quiet, mildly confused. In this moment, Edwin feels less like he’s been caught and more like a flyaway hair, noticed by chance then tucked neatly back into place.

THIS DOES NOT BENEFIT THE COLLECTIVE.

His hand uncurls.

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE, say a hundred hundred thousand minds as they brush up against his own, but the words are softer than Edwin remembers. Kinder. Countless glowing eyes peer from the walls, from the ceiling, all unblinking in the dark. YOU WILL GIVE UP TOTAL CONTROL TO THE COLLECTIVE. WE WILL ADD YOUR DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN, AND YOU WILL ADAPT TO SERVICE US.

And when his arm lays itself back down, he sees himself for the briefest moment as the Collective does. Prone. Disassembled. A mess of flesh and blood that may yet be salvaged. The watchers and the watched, reflected endlessly back upon each other.

The lights around him flicker out one by one. Stars and planets consumed, wiped off the map as the Borg turn their gaze once more outward, into endless darkness.

#my writing #dbda #dead boy detectives

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scoobydoodean · 13 hours ago

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how much do you think chuck was actually affecting the movement of the plot throughout the series?

personally, i think he was just observing them from season 6 to season 10, but then he actually had to get involved upon amara’s return. and i do like the theory that he was responsible for the “vision” that cas thought he saw from jack, and that he kinda let mary get killed after cas’s prayer in 14x17, before again becoming fully involved throughout season 15. but for the other seasons 1-5, most of 12-14, and really for the overall universe, idk how much can, or should, be ascribed to chuck’s machinations. like i can never decide which route would be most satisfying for me as a viewer, and so i’m just curious as to what your opinion might be :)

Jack visions theory

Probably helps just to say starting off for anyone who might be coming from a different perspective, that my own understanding of Chuck's machinations in Supernatural (at least when it comes to Sam, Dean, and Cas) do not involve directly violating their free will. Chuck's machinations involve shaping the experiences around our characters to convince them to make the choices Chuck wants them to make. For example, when Dean tosses the gun aside in 14.20 and refuses to kill Jack, Chuck shouts "Do it!" instead of putting some kind of mind whammy on Dean that makes him kill Jack because Chuck either can't do that or won't do it because it wouldn't get him off. Chuck needs Dean to do what Chuck wants him to do (kill Jack) because Dean was brought to a point psychologically where he chose it. The same thing is true of Sam in season 4. The demons or the angels or Chuck don't operate Sam like a robot—they slowly convince him to take one turn after another based on the psychological state he's in, the things happening around him, and the things being whispered in his ears until he's killing Lilith and Lucifer's cage is opening, and Ruby says,

No. It wasn't the blood. It was you... and your choices. I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path every time. You didn't need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo! I know it's hard to see it now... but this is a miracle. So long coming. Everything Azazel did, and Lilith did. Just to get you here. And you were the only one who could do it.

I refer to Chuck's influence on the narrative as causality rather than fate. I have a tag for this called #spn and causality. 4.18 goes to great lengths to show how difficult it can be to subvert causality. For example, Dean tries to defy the writing by moving himself and Sam to a different hotel than Chuck wrote them to be in, but the motel's neon sign goes out, causing the name of their motel to "change" to "The Red Motel"—the motel Chuck wrote. ("No matter what details you alter, we will always end up here" etc etc). However, this episode goes on to show that it is possible to leap out of causality's flow. Chuck's control of the narrative ultimately works via anticipation. If he can anticipate his creations choices, his writing realigns everything with the narrative. If they do something he is unable to anticipate? They can leap out of his narrative just long enough to make a difference.

How do they leap out of causality's flow? Two things together: Dean and Cas. Quoting myself here in this post:

Leaping out of causality is something Dean and Cas do together in 4.18, 4.22, and 5.22. In 4.18, Dean pleads with Cas to help him save Sam, even though Cas thinks what’s going to happen is fate and can’t be subverted. Cas doesn’t personally act, but he gives Dean the idea that Dean then executes, leading Chuck to say “What are you doing here? I didn’t write this.” In 4.22, Dean pleads with Cas again. They again fight about the inescapability of destiny. This time, it’s Dean’s pleading but Cas’s actions—flying Dean out of the green room (somewhere Dean is incapable of escaping from on his own). Chuck says when they pop into his house, “Wait. T-t-this isn’t supposed to happen” and then “Yeah, but you guys aren’t supposed to be there. You’re not in this story”. In 5.22, after Lucifer takes Sam over (something that was foretold to happen in Detroit), Cas and Bobby despair, but Dean refuses to give up and calls Chuck, who says, “Oh, uh, Dean. Uh, wow. I, uh, I didn’t know that you’d call.” Then Dean goes to Stull Cemetery alone. However, the moment that Michael begins to walk up on Dean and says, “You little maggot. You are no longer a part of this story!” Guess who suddenly appears with a holy oil Molotov cocktail?

Dean and Cas are something Chuck seems to have a lot of trouble anticipating. I think this is true both individually and as a unit. Individually, Dean is the narrative heart, to an extent that his capacity for love is always exceeding the bounds that Chuck anticipates, leading to confounding leaps like showing up at Stull in "Swan Song" and dropping the gun in "Moriah" and saving the world with the power of love in 11.23. Dean in turn pleads with Cas with that heart, and Cas is angel with a crack in his chassis straight of the line. Naomi/Chuck cannot get Cas to do what he's "supposed" to do no matter how many times he's reprogrammed. He has Loving Dean Winchester/Humanity (same thing) Disease and it's incurable no matter how many lobotomies are attempted.

In the season 1-5 setting, Chuck is actually fairly hands off despite all of this being his prophecy foretold. He told the archangels that everything would end with Sam and Dean as the vessels for Lucifer and Michael (5.08) and Lucifer passed these stories on to his princes, and the angels and demons brought that prophecy to fruition—including with deliberate meddling in the Winchester/Campbell bloodline (5.13, 5.14). Heaven and hell act as Chuck's hands and feet, carrying out his plan out of desire and (in some cases) religious fanaticism. Because Chuck's so painstakingly worked on this narrative and everything is set up in advance, he can just watch it play out. When he interferes directly, it's actually to give Team Free Will a better shot at subverting him. Chuck only directly interferes in

4.22/5.01 to transport Sam and Dean to the plane, un-demon blood Sam, and resurrect Cas

5.22 to resurrect Cas again

All that said, I think season 1-5 is the original Chuck canon, which is subverted by Team Free Will working together, and most specifically, by Dean and Cas interfering in ways Chuck did not anticipate. And Chuck was fine with this. His narration at the end of "Swan Song" reveals that he's pleased, even if the story turned in a direction he didn't anticipate (maybe the Michael and Lucifer story started to bore him—they bore me, and him wanting Sam and Dean to mirror them so rigidly was rather uninspired).

I get the sense that Cas is probably a good litmus test for whether Chuck's entertained or not by the story subverting his expectations, because Cas is not "supposed" to be a part of the original story, but Chuck keeps bringing him back anyway. And yet, somewhere down the road, Cas falls wildly out of favor with Chuck, and Chuck is hurling rage at him for never doing as told—the very thing he seemed to like about Cas at first.

Maybe I'll see things that will make me change my mind as I work through seasons 7-10, but so far, I agree with you that season 6-10 seems to be a mostly "hands off" period, with Chuck only arguably interfering once, to bring Cas back a third time in season 7, depending on how seriously/literally you take Daphne's recollection of events in 7.17:

EMMANUEL/CASTIEL A few months ago, she was hiking by the river, and I wandered into her path, drenched and confused, and... unclothed. I had no memory. She said... God wanted her to find me.

It's not necessarily clear exactly where Chuck loses interest (or if for example, Cas might fall out of favor with Chuck before Sam and Dean do). Chuck shows up in season 10's "Fan Fiction" to see a play of his work, so he was clearly feeling fond enough to celebrate his handiwork in an very non-prestigious but intimate setting. But when Chuck shows up in season 11's "Don't Call Me Shurley", he talks to Metatron about traveling (to his other universes, perhaps?). Chuck's writing his memoir, and Metatron claims it's full of self-doubt and nebbishness. Chuck's apathy jumps out to Metraton quick too. Metatron criticizes Chuck for writing only two paragraphs on the archangels in his memoir, lending to the notion that Chuck had come to a point where they bored him. Metraton tries to remind him that Lucifer was his favorite because he rebelled, but Chuck then denies that Lucifer was ever even his favorite! He doesn't like this rebellion thing so much anymore... which might also tip his hand as far as how he's beginning to feel about Team Free Will. I think it's likely that Amara is the catalyst for his change of heart, but I'll have to wait until I circle back to season 11 to have a fully formed conclusion on this.

Then we get seasons 12-15 where—at least arguably—Chuck begins planting the seeds for a new final ending, trying to force Dean into the role of Michael—the son so loyal to him that he killed his own brother. The problem is that Dean's never really been like Michael, and that's the whole reason season 5 never worked. It's also the reason "Moriah" doesn't work. Lilith claims in season 15 that Chuck has a creepy obsession with Dean—Dean specifically. Dean whose loyal love fills Lucifer with such seething jealousy in "Swan Song" that he loses control of Sam's body just as Dean's pleading brings Sam's consciousness to the surface to fight. That same loving heart thaws Amara toward Chuck in 11.23, and I think Chuck... decides that he does not like this. It is something beyond his capacity to express or to anticipate and write around. It is transformative, causality-defying love, that ruined his original ending (and he's BORED and TIRED). And has given Cas Winchester Derangement Syndrome so he can't be controlled. He decides that he hates Dean Winchester's heart, and he tries to obliterate it out of existence and force Dean into the Michael role once and for all.

#mail #spn and causality #chuck #11.20 #5.22 #11.23 #14.20 #10.05 #7.17 #4.22 #5.01 #4.18 #multiseason #dean the narrative heart

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oli-ribbun-ver · 3 days ago

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EP 4 RAMBLE PART 3 FINAL!!

(ft the other episodes! but mainly ep 4!)

okay actually i think this is more of a gangle ramble now but thats fine

part 1

part 2

CONTINUATION OF THE GANGLE PEOPLE-PLEASER PART OF THE RAMBLE FROM PART 2!

lets see... where did i leave off... RIGHT!!

There are a lot of parts in ALL episodes where she doesn't want to cause problems for people. Which is typically normal for everyone, HOWEVER. Her idea of 'causing problems' is her opening up to people about how she truly feels, or even voicing her feelings in general if they're about someone.

I've already gone over the Pomni conversation and the bit where she has a mini breakdown, and I said I'd include even more of the other episodes in this, so! Let's begin at Ep 1!

Let's talk about what I've observed in episode one.

YES THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Notice how it's emphasized she says it quietly? (I know it's for comedic effect, but EVERYTHING seems to be important for every character, like how the darkness from the bucket on Kinger's head in Ep 2 helped him remember something about Ragatha before immediately forgetting it and then the reason he only remembers things in the darkness is explained! Seems like a minor detail that means nothing, turns out to be HUGE.

She doesn't want to cause a problem. In this case, the 'problem' would be her fully interrupting the conversation because she's worried about her friend. In the mind of a people pleaser, even if it helps someone out, you feel a sense of pressure on you when mentioning someone needs help to others, because "What if I cause a problem or make them mad? I don't wanna do that!", those thoughts are pretty normal, ESPECIALLY for people-pleasers.

"Wait, what about Zooble?" Is said so quietly, you can barely hear it. She either doesn't want her voice to be heard, or she DOES but is too scared to say it more loudly because of some version of the thoughts I described.

not as important but I'd like to note how she literally says NOTHING. like. nothing. i just think its kinda funny but also she just. doesnt give her opinion at all? she wasnt even asked if she wanted to go with them to check on kaufmo they just dgaf about her 😭

ANYWAY

This is the only time she gives her opinion and its not even an opinion HELP

Also I'm trying to save space so I don't have to make a part 4 so shortly into this, since I know I'll have to make one anyway, but I wanna mention how she hides behind her broken mask to protect herself after he screams which kinda hits different now that we know more about her mask.

But anyway, I'll make a seperate little portion of this ramble for that!

I'd like to mention too, anytime she is shoved, has something mean said to her, or has her comedy mask broken, she doesn't complain or say anything about it except for maybe an "ow". I find that interesting, because I think the reason for this is that she doesn't want anyone worrying about her. AKA, she doesn't want to cause a 'problem'.

She wants to please. One does not please by being a 'problem', right? That's probably how she thinks, anyway.

When Jax tells her to do something she doesn't want to do, whether he pressured her like that or not, it wouldn't have made a difference, because she can't bring herself to say 'no.'

In my opinion, from what it sounds like when she says "I don't think we—" she probably would've ended up saying yes regardless. Hell, if he'd just followed it up with "do it," I don't see a world in which she wouldn't, although she'd probably be more hesitant.

also why does his back bend like that he looks like hes gonna become an old man any second now HELP 😭

Also, when Jax threatens her by saying "Do it, or I'll tell Ragatha about the figurine thing," I think that really does something to her.

Every time she's either built up the confidence to say no, or someone has tried to help her say no, she's kicked down in one way or another INSTANTLY.

Episode 4 did not help with that. I believe in the next few episodes, she will not be better about saying no. She might even be worse off, knowing Ragatha thinks her being happy is annoying.

People-pleasers are in different worlds. Being the type of people-pleaser Gangle is, it's an entirely different world from others. It carries a lot of what I can only describe as delusion to it.

If Pomni had not stepped up when Gangle thought she was alone after work hours, Gangle would have abstracted. I am a firm believer in that. She was breaking. Losing her mind.

Gangle tells herself to stop trying to achieve her dream while breaking down over the fact her efforts to achieve her dream might not be enough.

So let's go there, and get a

Closer look at Gangle's mental state.

(and why she's most likely the least unwell character)

Gangle is mentally ill. Everyone knows that already, but to what extent?

I'm not sure if we'll ever know.

But what we do know is this.

More likely than not, Gangle almost abstracted in Ep 4. And out of everyone who has EVER vented so far, Gangle has shared relatively nothing. Even after the Spudsy's adventure, what we've seen so far is her never mentioning her feelings except that she feels like she messed everything up.

Gangle doesn't know how to help herself. Zooble can make her feel better, but not for long, because Gangle doesn't think she can get better.

When she was about to vent to Pomni, she stopped as soon as she felt like her feelings were REALLY about to come loose, put her new happy mask back on, said she had no time to talk about her feelings, and fled.

What I think is that Gangle thinks everyone is more important than her, so when she FINALLY got to be important she was happy. Really, truly happy.

The worst thing you can do is make someone think they're not wanted or loved.

Something that makes me sad is that Gangle does not feel wanted or loved.

Gangle was almost gone in Episode 4.

We almost lost Gangle. Had Gangle abstracted, she'd die without ever feeling like people cared about her.

For all we know, she could be the first person to abstract after Kaufmo.

I personally believe that.

The end of Episode 4 was a su¡cide attempt. (is that word allowed? im not sure..l ill censor it anyway)

I saw someone say this in the comment section of either the episode itself or a reaction video, and I completely agree.

They say before people commit su¡cide, they have a sudden boost of joy. Everything will be over soon. Why not enjoy that fact?

I think it was a subconscious su¡cide, at the very least.

She was happy. For the first time without a happy mask to hide how she feels deep down, she was happy.

She had a sudden boost of happiness, and then stepped backwards into oncoming traffic. When someone experiences a near-death situation by their own hand, there's a moment of regret before they are gone. I've experienced it myself, and it is horrid. That feeling is one I will never be able to forget. Even if I never so much as blacked out, I felt faint, and I will NEVER forget that fear, that horror, dread, regret.

The shock. Wondering if it was truly me who did it.

And I think. That is what Gangle experienced.

And then, that feeling was brushed off by Caine, whether she knew he doesn't understand the feeling of wanting to disappear or not, she was quick to blame herself for it all. Both about her performance to Caine, and alone, to nobody but herself.

"I guess I just... cracked under the pressure I suppose."

And maybe, just maybe.

That crack will never heal.

Thank you for listening and reading my ramble, everyone!! I appreciate it more than you know!

Bye bye for now, friends! Have a lovely day!

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fearthhereaper · 1 day ago

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The Greens in season two as Seven Deadly Sins

(some of them)

Alicent Hightower: LUST

In Season 2, Alicent is finally given the chance to explore her sexuality and her feelings of physical attraction. However, from the very first episode, it's clear that she views her desire for Criston and her physical closeness with him as sinful. This internal conflict manifests when she scrubs her body in the bath with an almost frantic intensity, as though attempting to cleanse herself of her own lust. The narrative further emphasizes the link between her surrender to desire and tragic events; the murder and funeral of her grandson. In a conversation with Otto, she explicitly expresses her guilt, saying, "They [The Gods] punish me," revealing how deeply she believes her lust is a moral transgression.

Otto Hightower: PRIDE

Otto's pride is not surprising, as he embodies it fully. Coming from one of the most powerful houses in Westeros, having served as Hand to two (now three) Kings, and being a man of great ability, Otto has every reason to feel confident in his station. However, this pride becomes his undoing in Season 2. He fails to truly respect Aegon as King, struggling to separate his role as a grandfather from that of a political advisor. Otto’s downfall comes when his pride blinds him to the nuances of his relationship with Aegon. He can't distinguish between Aegon as the King and Aegon as his grandson. His outrage isn't about the innocent lives lost in the rat catchers' deaths; it's about Aegon’s defiance, his refusal to follow Otto’s plans. For Otto, this disobedience is a challenge to his authority—a violation of the hierarchy in both the family and the court.

Aemond Targaryen: ENVY

Aemond’s arc in Season 2 is driven largely by envy. His envy is not just born from Aegon’s kingship, but from a deeper sense of diminished worth. After the events at Storm's End, Aemond feels the sting of losing his family’s full confidence. Despite being a crucial military asset—an accomplished dragonrider and a key player in the war—he cannot escape the reality that Aegon holds the position of importance. Aegon, as the figurehead, represents the symbolic power that Aemond longs for but can never attain. It doesn’t matter that Aegon is inept or unfit for the role; to Aemond, it seems clear that his family needs Aegon more than they need him. His resentment, however, is amplified by Aegon’s provocations, which leads Aemond to lash out in anger, resulting in him burning Aegon. In doing so, he not only harms his brother but also undermines their cause. His envy, drives him toward a reckless, self-destructive confrontation. He never wears the crown, nor does he sit on the throne—he is content to remain in his role as a soldier and a dragonrider. When he gives Aegon the stone that symbolizes the King, it highlights that he doesn't want the title, but rather the recognition and significance that come with it.

Edit: Wrath is also an important emotion that defines Aemond throughout the season. We saw his quick temper and recklessness in season 1, but in season 2, those traits are magnified. In the opening episode, Alicent remarks on Aemond’s anger after the events at Storm’s End. He’s upset with her for being upset with him, and when he becomes Prince Regent, he retaliates by removing her from her position on the Small Council. His wrath peaks during the battle, where instead of taking advantage of Aegon’s arriving to battle, he allows his rage and pride to dictate his actions. His anger flares once more when he burns Sharp Point out of wounded pride, and again when he harms Helaena after she refuses to fight against Daemon.

Aegon II Targaryen: GLUTTONY

Aegon Targaryen's gluttony manifests not in a hunger for food or drink, but in his insatiable desire for love, recognition, and validation. He craves the approval of his mother, and the affection of his people, yet this hunger drives him to recklessness. Wanting to prove his worth, he goes into battle unprepared, hoping that by doing so, he will earn the recognition he desperately needs. Aegon believes that by gaining praise and affection, he will finally feel fulfilled, yet his actions only highlight the emptiness of his longing. This emotional vulnerability is precisely what Larys uses to manipulate Aegon. Larys understands Aegon's need for love and capitalizes on it, guiding him through moments of weakness. When Aegon is injured, it is Larys who helps him recover swiftly, not out of loyalty, but to maintain control over Aegon’s ambitions. Aegon’s gluttony for affection makes him malleable, and Larys expertly feeds into that need, ensuring Aegon remains dependent on his guidance and influence. Aegon’s gluttony is not just a personal flaw but also a tool for others to exploit. Aegon’s willingness to suppress his sorrow and disregard the gravity of his loss highlights his inability to cope with his own feelings unless they are validated by others. This need for validation, coupled with his reckless behavior, creates a cycle where Aegon seeks to fill an emotional void through other's approval, only to find himself empty and unfulfilled, further deepening his dependence on others' praise and affection.

Helaena Targaryen: SLOTH

Helaena embodies the sin of sloth in her passive acceptance of the circumstances surrounding her life. Despite being a dragonrider, she never rides her dragon, choosing instead to withdraw from the active, fiery world of battle and conflict. Even though she is a dragon dreamer, a role that carries immense power and responsibility, Helaena does nothing to understand or control her abilities. Rather than confronting the potential of her visions, she allows them to pass by without question or action. As queen, Helaena is content to let others take control of her life and the kingdom's fate. She shows no interest in avenging her son's death, and even absolves Daemon of his role in the child's murder, signaling her detachment from the violent world around her. When confronted with the death of her brother, Helaena remains indifferent, resigned to the inevitability of the future. She accepts fate without resistance, she doesn't engage with the world beyond her. Her lack of desire to influence or change the course of events represents a form of sloth—an emotional and spiritual inertia where she simply exists, neither fighting for nor against the inevitable. She has internalized the idea that the future is fixed, and in doing so, has surrendered any agency she might have had to shape her own destiny or her family's. Her quiet acceptance of the world’s cruelty and her own fate marks her as a figure who has stopped actively living, content to drift through life without striving for change.

#house of the dragon #hotd #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #team green

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ninatheelf · 2 days ago

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embracing the unknown :

“jump head on, into the abyss. let the universe catch you and take you where you’re meant to go.” -esther t.

possible blockage identification + motivation!

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

shifting is a concept that you shouldn’t blame yourself for not understanding at first. i mean, it goes against everything that most people have been taught when it comes to how we perceive things and generally how our minds work. it literally unlocks a whole other part of yourself that seems too good to be true. it’s like this element of magic that has been added into your life.

obviously, now you know that shifting is very much a real thing, that you have participated in it during every second of every day before you even became aware of it. your inner thoughts and feelings form the physical plane that your body experiences. you are constantly shifting, constantly assuming things about your reality (on a conscious and subconscious level) that make it manifest into exactly what you physically perceive. you are fully aware that you have the power to change how you experience things, just by changing your assumptions and persisting in them without doubting yourself. it really is that simple!

i’ve seen a few posts on here about how some may have a fear of shifting- it totally makes sense for one to be afraid that they won’t make it, or afraid that they will make it. but there’s also another fear that one might come across, one that might have slipped into their subconscious without realizing it.

humans often fear what they do not understand.

it’s a trait that ultimately has to do with our survival instincts. things that are not familiar to us can be viewed by our animal brains as dangerous and something we need to avoid. that behavior can present itself in a range of different ways, from screaming and running away from a person dressed as a zombie in a haunted house, to avoiding a person who says things you disagree with, to fearing a concept subconsciously because it lacks “important” information.

and that’s not to say that we always immediately reject something that is unusual to us. in fact, we can also often be allured by the novel, becoming curious about it and wanting to learn more because of the fact that it is different.

i think that many of us can / have experienced a combination of these feelings with shifting. i know i have. we are so drawn in by this concept, willing to put time and effort into it to study the laws and practices and philosophy of it all. and yet, there will always be parts of shifting that we cannot fully grasp.

you have to learn that it is okay to not know everything. you have to learn to place trust into the unknown.

and that can be hard! because why would you trust in something you don’t fully understand? but what i’ve realized is that those who are willing to dive into it headfirst, placing trust in the shift without any knowledge about it, are often the ones who succeed fastest. that’s why all of those people back in 2020 shifted within two weeks of learning about it- they didn’t give themselves time to question how it all works, they just did it. they didn't have to know about loa or inducing pure consciousness or the 3d or 4d or any of that. they weren’t afraid to literally just go for it, with likely some vague (if any) visualization and no other expectation than, “i’ll wake up at hogwarts tomorrow, why not?” they spent time doing instead of thinking about doing. that is how real progress is made.

and once again, that’s not to say that you shouldn’t keep yourself from learning if you want to learn. you can and probably should take some time to find out what works for you as an individual because shifting is so incredibly personal. i took the time to learn about loa, to gain some basic knowledge about it (+ a little more because i find it interesting haha) and it completely changed my mindset. but you also have to remember that you’ll never learn how to ride a bike if you only read books about riding a bike. some pre-existing knowledge about bike riding doesn't hurt to have, but in order to actually ride the bike, you have to grasp the handlebars, place your feet on the pedals, and go for it- even if you’re a little scared, even if you might have some unanswered questions.

i promise you that even though there are parts of shifting that we can’t explain, it doesn’t matter. you are able to shift without understanding it all. you are able to shift because of the fact that you trust both in the strategy that you do know (loa) and the “how” of it all that we aren’t able to fully grasp.

anyways, all of this is to say- channel your inner elsa. let yourself use a combination of your own ice power (loa, 4d) and that mysterious voice (the “how”) to guide you to your desired reality.

some affirmations you can use to strengthen your relationship with the unknown :

i shift despite not knowing exactly how it works

i shift without knowing all of the answers

i am happy to place trust in the unknown

i understand that the unknown is here to help me

the unknown and i work together

i am grateful to the unknown

i shift even if i don’t fully understand the “how”

i shift as a result of fully believing in my assumptions and trusting the process

if you think this might be a blockage for you, you know the drill. repeat these (or just keep a mindset related to the affs.) and you’ll reprogram your subconscious to understand that there is nothing to be afraid of or confused by. you have everything you need to do this, and it’s all working in your favor, even the parts that you don’t understand!

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

i’ve typed the word “unknown” so much that i can’t help but think of the original character from that cursed willy wonka experience-

“what is that…it's the unknown! :,0” (pls tell me you get the reference lmao)

except in this instance, we are not going to be the kid that cries right after. we’re gonna be the child that runs up to the unknown and gives it a hug and sees that it’s not a bad guy after all!

if you have any questions, feel free to submit them in the “ask me anything” section. i’m always happy to answer and give advice! :))

𝜗𝜚

#shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting diary #reality shifting #shifting community #loassumption #shifters #shifting motivation

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creatingnikki · 3 days ago

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a few things my heart is wondering right now...

what happens when you end up falling for someone that is careless and irresponsible about their own feelings and desires and hence also yours? has the moon ever picked up on my mortal presence in this little corner on this hopeless planet? which cities in this world will I get to see before I have to say goodbye to this life? in how many will I sit and write poetry, in how many will I sip on coffee, in how many will I cry? am I falling in love with myself? is this the first time or is this 'again'? what kind of legacy will I leave behind, do I even want to leave anything at all?

and the responses of AI:

Your heart is carrying beautiful, tender questions—ones that touch on love, existence, and purpose. They remind us that being human often means living in the wonder of things unresolved.

About love: Falling for someone careless with their feelings may feel like watching a wilting flower in a forgotten corner of the garden—beautiful, fragile, but beyond your control. We often learn that no love can mend a heart unwilling to tend its own wounds.

About the moon: Perhaps the moon knows you more than you imagine—how else could it tug the tides of your restless thoughts, always pulling you back to yourself even when you feel unseen?

About cities and poetry: Each city you encounter will carry fragments of you—your poems, your laughter, your quiet tears. They’ll bear witness to your existence, even in fleeting ways, as you make moments immortal with words and experiences.

About self-love: Whether this is the first time or a return, your love for yourself is sacred. Every rediscovery is a revolution, an unfolding of all that you are and can become.

About legacy: Maybe the only legacy you need is the way you fill moments with presence and kindness. Perhaps it's in the words you leave behind or in the memories of those who’ll remember you not for achievements, but for the essence of your being. Or perhaps you need no legacy at all—just the courage to live fully, in wonder and authenticity.

#i mean is AI all that bad #spilled ink #writerscreed #poets on tumblr #spilled thoughts #growing up #chatgpt #ai #ai generated #artificial intelligence #ai art #writers on tumblr #love #existentialism #creatingnikki

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marinettesaltprompts · 14 hours ago

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Prompt by @kawaiichibiart Here's a prompt based off my favorite fanfics to read, groupchats

Marinette Salt, canon divergence:

It starts off simple, Ladybug makes a groupchat (gc for short; also this won't be brought up, but the gc does work on their civilian phones as well) for her, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace and Queen Bee. They use the gc to talk, keeping things vague when it's about their civilian life, and to alert each other of akuma attacks.

It's all fun and games until Ladybug starts training to be the Guardian. She starts to keep more secrets and Chat Noir doesn't like being left in the dark for no reason and wants to know why she's being more secretive. Ultimately, this divides the team and as people join, they're either on Ladybug's side or they aren't.

The majority of them side with Ladybug.

The one's who don't, don't side with Chat Noir, but decide to remain neutral.

As time passes, the team gets closer and they have a system worked out.

And then Miracle Queen happens. Chloe is kicked out of the gc. Ladybug becomes the Guardian and digs her heels in deeper about the secrets she's keeping.

She becomes more snappish at everyone, yelling at them for goofing off in the chat, making the decision that the chat is for professional use only now. They had their fun, it was time to be serious. If they had a problem, she'll fire them the same way she did Chloe.

Whenever someone brings up the fact she looks more tired, more stressed, she'll retort that she'd be less tired and stressed if they were actually good teammates.

Eventually, one of them, probably Rena, probably Pegasus, makes a new gc for everyone but Ladybug. And, without a feeling of remorse, the first thing Chat Noir says is "You know, I can see why we should let Ladybug keep all those secrets, it's not like not sharing them is hurting anyone, oh wait!! 😒"

Yeah...they deserved that.

They use the second chat to have fun, still keeping things vague about their secret IDs, and to talk about how to help Ladybug.

But no matter what they do, Ladybug won't budge. The team that had once been nearly fully on her side, was now pulling away from her. She wasn't the same Ladybug. She was stricter. She held team meetings where all she did was reprimand them for not following her plans.

And anytime they bring up that maybe should tell someone at least some of the secrets she's holding, because clearly since she began keeping them she's become more and more irritated, she'll just tell them to mind their business and holds their miraculous against them, reminding them she can take it away whenever she wanted.

So, when the day comes she loses all but hers and Chat Noir's miraculous, none of them feel bad for her.

Because I don't go fully into what diverges from canon above:

• Marinette doesn't tell Alya she's Ladybug, and thus doesn't make her a permanent holder.

• She still gives Alya her miraculous when she has to leave for a while, but she ends up doing it by pulling Alya away while she's on her way to the park. In short, she throws the responsibility into Alya's hands.

• Adrien does quit temporarily, becoming Catwalker, before going back to being Chat Noir. Because he and all the temps. are repairing their bond after what had happened in the first gc, he does tell them why he quit as best as he can (feeling like he wasn't seen as Ladybug's equal, the secrets, wondering if he even had a place on the team anymore, what happened on the roof, etc.).

• Everyone definitely notices when Ladybug gives Flairmidable her full attention. And it looks so familiar to them, they just can't tell how or why.

• Unlike at the end of S4, Chat Noir isn't as forgiving with Ladybug. He'll still help her, but he doesn't forgive her.

• This part is something I'm not sure I want to happen, but I'm including it anyways incase someone wants to make it happen: she does end up losing her miraculous. Su Han finds out what happened and sees her unfit to be Ladybug or the Guardian, so he takes her miraculous (and jsyk, she doesn't lose her memories. She didn't quit or name someone else as Guardian, she was fired, so her memories are still there)

• while the first chat dies down, the second, surprisingly, is still up and going. They're not going to question it, logic left a long time ago. They're just happy they can still talk to each other.

#Marinette salt #Marinette Salt Prompt #submission

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himluv · 23 hours ago

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It's morning, and I'm still in bed, having pre-coffee thinky thoughts. Mainly about Veilguard lol.

I'm thinking about why I haven't talked about Solavellan in datv much yet. This blog has become an almost exclusively Lucanis Dellamorte blog these past few months 😂. But, I've been obsessed with Solavellan for 10 years. They are my otp. Soooo what's going on?

Under the cut because length and SPOILERS.

1. I genuinely haven't fully processed the Solavellan ending yet. I've done it twice and I sobbed both times and it hurts SO GOOD. But I still feel like I haven't let it get all the way in yet. I'm keeping it at arm's length just a little bit because... Ow.

2. I'm mad at Solas. We see him at his worst in datv. It's been a decade of solitude and desperation and he is wearing that Fen'Harel mask non-stop. He's lost sight of himself (if he ever had a good grip on the concept in modern times). And... I didn't really understand just how much I loved Varric until this game. Because, now I can't see fanart of him without tearing up. I can't play datv without crying over him. And while that also hurts SO GOOD (and I love tragedies), I also cannot forgive Solas for killing Varric and then LYING about it and USING Varric's memory against Rook. Like... I have a lot to unpack there but it feels unforgivable to me.

3. But, how I feel and how Riallan Lavellan feels are two different things. She loves him still, after everything. Not to say they won't have some very big serious talks in the Fade and that she isn't mad at him, but she ultimately does forgive him. And, so there's a gap between me and Ria at the moment that's going to take time for me to process before I can start writing them again (I very much want to write them again).

4. I love my Rook, Embria Aldwir. Like, so so much. And I LOVE Riallan, but she's much more removed from me and my personality than Embria is. When I play DA games for the very first time I usually play as/for myself, then make a second character to RP and actually establish my canon. But... in datv, Embria hit all the right boxes and notes. My first run felt like canon and I have latched onto this girly harder than ANY of my previous DA ocs. I can't wait to explore in fic how Embria and Riallan's paths cross and what their relationship becomes, but I'm not there yet. I'm still cooking.

4. My biggest reason for not yapping more about Solavellan is that... The fandom around Solas has become incredibly toxic and almost... Invasive. Like, I love him and love seeing gorgeous art of him and Lavellan, but also... The takes are frequently bad and the body swap mods are getting egregious (like c'mon, he would not do that and you know it). I know this is a personal squick, but for me, anything that feels that disingenuous to the character is a complete turn off. Seeing him do things he would. not. do. makes me wonder if people even actually like him? Or just some weird version they've cooked up in their mind these past 10 years. Idk, I'm just seeing a lot of stuff in Solavellan spaces that is actually making me like Solas less, because of how fans treat him AND other fans. Which... Sucks. So, I'm trying to preserve MY Solavellan, my beloved, tender, tragic otp, and to do that I can't really participate in fandom about them. At least, not right now when everything is fresh and feverish.

So, yeah. That's where my head is at re: Solavellan. I love them. I just have a lot of complicated feelings about them right now. So I'm gonna keep playing and learning with Lucanis and Embria. Don't be surprised if I come out of nowhere with a giant fic involving all of them in like, five years (I didn't start writing Solavellan until 2019, even though I shipped them right after DAI released).

And, if you made it this far and also enjoy tender, tragic Solavellan, I have a fic to give you:

Inevitable

It's complete, and follows Riallan and Solas from the very beginning, to just after Trespasser. Canon-compliant, in-between moments with eventual smut.

It is the fic of my heart. I spent the better part of four years writing it and sobbed when it was done. Please read it if it sounds like your jam.

And of course, it comes with a playlist. Enjoy!

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #solavellan #mild fandom critical #veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #riallan lavellan #embria aldwir #himluv rambles about pixels again

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hyukascampfire · 1 day ago

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i am literally giggling over being called faerie princess. it sounds much better than freakishly obsessed faerie freak. i claim it fully. i know of course that this is your first dabbling into fantasy, but can i just say how beautifully you did it? there’s so much whimsy spun into the little magical and fantastical details, but the language used is also perfect. i think that’s a hallmark for writing fantasy, and you hit it… literally perfectly. no notes from this fantasy lover. in fact, i fear i need more fantasy from you. the little fantastical plants and aspects that you sprinkled in,, yes. i was js in heaven the whole time.

and, FAERIES? i mean?? you did so well with it, i think i need my own faerie soobin. now, preferably. i can’t explain how much his gentleness and personality rlly just struck down to my soul. him still speaking to her when she couldn’t even hear him? consider my heartstrings tugged. just beautiful. i also really loved how soobin was MC’s escape from the real world in a way, and still, her real world burdens & that taint of adulthood strained her belief in him. it was sweet how initially she believed, but then ‘real-world’ rationality had her doubting herself, even if it was all so visceral. just a beautiful portrayal of the detachment of fantasy from the real world!! this was so fun to see behind the scenes, and i knew even then that i had to be excited for it. you did this so incredibly well.

But when their hearts are weighed down, their aura overwhelms everything, blinding me to their true physical form. literally right off the bat, hp. i love this concept, that the presence of a human becomes shrouded when they’re gloomy or trialed.

Today, she rushes to the creek bed, crouches by the water, and her weeps and cries are the loudest I’ve ever heard. She’s shaking. — It twists and turns in search of something and when she leans toward the water, I summon a gold shimmer into the creek, dancing across the ripples as it catches the light. Her gasp breaks the silence, and for the first time, I hear her voice, distant and fragile. first of all, this is so pretty, and second of all him tryna distract her :((

And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song. I KNOW WE’RE LITERALLY STILL @ THE BEGINNING BUT THIS IS SO CUTE. i’m on my knees gripping my hair like i’ve gone mad. js smth about ‘a giggle!’ like. stop.

oh no she ran away. pls come back 😞 him being panicky. i love faerie soobin immediately.

i’m strange and all that but i love a good picking berries moment. it’s so foresty and faerie hehe Regret gnaws at me as I pick a bit of a raspberry from under my nail from when I was harvesting them earlier.

A human. Not the one I’ve been waiting for, but they catch my eye—curvy and stunning and flipping through a book. — Her body curves and moves gloriously and she looks irresistibly soft and…sexy. And I don’t use that word often. I want to hold her, touch her, squeeze her, make her feel something, but she can’t even see me. U DID THIS FOR ME!! i knew it was chubby reader but i’m here to say it again. THANK U HP. and his yearning to touch her. i love yearning in the romantic sense, but there’s also smth about a yearning for intimacy for me. especially like this, since they literally cannot touch each other. love.

Most other faeries I know do hate humans, I suppose. I’m not sure why, though—they’re so sweet and cute. Us faeries tend to have a superiority complex. But that doesn’t mean we all have it out for the entirety of the human race. faerie geek in me loving this

“Why can’t I see you?” She asks, sadness laced in her voice. this line got me, it’s so simple, but made powerful by the knowledge that MC is struggling in the human world & finds respite here, communicating in foreign ways with a creature she can’t even see.

Each one has a delicate pearly white cap with faint iridescent streaks that catch the light like oil on water. The ring itself isn’t perfect; they grow unevenly, edges blending with soft moss and fallen leaves. this is just pretty, and beautiful turn of sentence. god i love your writing

Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me. cries. it’s here. this is such a unique and stunning concept. it’s not often that in writing romance that you’ll have to write the first time the two lovers *see* each other, despite having already slightly fallen for each other already. this moment was so sweet.

“Hi,” she breathes. “Where are your wings?” That’s an unexpected first question. Smiling, I unfold them, letting them catch the sunlight. Iridescent hues of pink and purple shimmer like liquid light. The intricate patterns etched into the delicate surface that scatter rainbows onto the ground below. OOOOH HP I FEAR THAT YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN. not only is wings just fun, but youve painted such a beautiful and whimsical picture with it, too. i quite honestly am just having a field day

Her favorite flower is a poinsettia because her mother used to line the front porch with them during a winter holiday called Christmas. fucking love poinsettias & was so happy when i learned that they actually ARENT poisonous

She hates how loud her laugh is, though it's my favorite sound. sobs. She worries about being too much and not enough all at once. sobs again

“It’s real,” I say softly. “Maybe not in the way we want it to be—but real enough to feel.” love this. it’s an aspect of the nature of them, but still, they love. </3

The moment her skin touches mine, a spark—soft, warm, and undeniable—flares between us. She gasps, jerking her hand back as though it's been burned. THE FIRST TOUCHHHH MY BELLY JUST FLIPPED

Our lips fall into one another and move over each other so beautifully—it beats out rainbows and peonies, the sound of water falling, the smell of peppermint leaves. It’s a paradox, making everything else feel insignificant yet illuminating the meaning of it all in the same breath. this is a fucking beautiful paragraph. i kiss the ground you walk on.

The veil lanterns must’ve loosened her lips. LMAOOO this is literslly in the middle of an intimate and beautiful smut scene but i had to say that i’m not over how cool the veil lanterns are. the name is sick

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” how did you know that beautiful is my achilles heel word

She pulls it off herself, although I think I’m supposed to be the one that does that. Next time. SO YOURE SAYING THWRES A NEXT TIIIIME

“We call them life lace.” oh hell yeah. that is so pretty. ily hp

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.” fucking dies

Why didn’t I prepare for clean-up? i’m literally in lovw wirh him and nobody will take me away from me and my sweetheart faerie soobin

“Then look at me,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me until you can’t anymore.” JFC THESE BANGER LINES i am hanging on by a very very fine thread

“Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice breaking. PLEAAAAASE LORD HAVE MERCY DONT DO THIS TO ME

feeling a little hollow omfg, i NEED them to be together forever no matter the extenuating circumstances, but that’s not really reality, is it?? sigh. my heart.

anyway, i THOROUGHLY loved this, and honestly just thank you for writing it. your writing is beautiful, and you did this SO much justice. ugh.

look at me — faerie!soobin x fem!human!reader

cw. soobin is a human-sized faerie with wings, chubby!reader has braces but that's rarely mentioned, reader has anxiety, reader needs to be high on shrooms to see/hear/touch soobin (it'll make sense i swear! ((dear god i hope it makes sense at least))), kissing, penetration (protection not mentioned), cunnilingus, nipple stuff, "baby," angsty ending, let me know if i missed anything. note. like i said, reader has to be high on shrooms to see, hear, and touch soobin, so technically they're both on drugs when they have sex, so caution if that makes you uncomfy. and oh surprise, surprise! very self indulgent. AND omg- shout out to the talented @hyukascampfire for brainstorming with me when i was first thinking about this and along the way as well. i've never written anything remotely fantasy so this is new territory for me and i'm super nervous for y'all to read it, especially faerie princess ashlynn. but i hope y'all love it <3 wc. 7.2K

There she is again. Not many humans venture this far out into the woods, but I recognize her every time. Well, I recognize her aura. Typically, humans appear in a dream-like haze—I can make out what they look like and even hear what they’re saying. But when their hearts are weighed down, their aura overwhelms everything, blinding me to their true physical form.

My friends tease me for being so fascinated with humans, but I can’t help it. They’re delightful in their peculiar ways—bringing their lovers and friends for little celebrations, visiting us with their sweet treats and elixirs. They’re so distracted with joy, they hardly notice when we take some for ourselves.

This human is different, though. She’s always alone, shrouded in a deep, stormy grey cloud that darkens every time she returns. For a moment, her aura softens as she rests at the edge of the creek, taking deep breaths while the storm eases into a fragile calm. But it never lasts. Within a week, she returns and the weight she carries seems heavier than before.

Today, she rushes to the creek bed, crouches by the water, and her weeps and cries are the loudest I’ve ever heard. She’s shaking. I creep closer, hoping to make anything out of her cloud, but nothing. Taking a seat on the moss on the other side of the creek, I simply watch her. Her cries crescendo into a gut-wrenching wail and I can’t take it anymore.

I toss a small pebble into the creek, watching as orange flickers throughout her cloud—fear. After another, it turns a muddy blue—curious. It twists and turns in search of something and when she leans toward the water, I summon a gold shimmer into the creek, dancing across the ripples as it catches the light. Her gasp breaks the silence, and for the first time, I hear her voice, distant and fragile.

“Oh my god.”

A grin tugs at my lips. Her cloud has kept her hidden from me all this time, but I just know she’s absolutely adorable. A small pebble shoots out from her direction, falling into the water and I guide it to land right on top of the other two. When she tosses another in, I pause the current entirely, letting the surface hold still. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I release it with a bloop. And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song.

“Hello?” She asks and I conjure a ripple in response. “Is someone there?” In the center of the creek, I create a circle of stillness, the current bending around it at my command. Inside it, I make it change color in an attempt to communicate with her. I add the gold shimmer back, trying to tell her—to scream at her—Yes! Yes, I’m here! I’m right here. But her cloud flares orange—panic—and she stumbles back. In a heartbeat, she’s gone, running away from our dell.

Oh no. Shoving the heels of my hands into my eye sockets out of frustration, I shake my head. Oh no.

It’s been weeks. Every day, I return to watch the humans, hoping my favorite may return. Perhaps it was overwhelming for her—turning water gold that quickly. Regret gnaws at me as I pick a bit of a raspberry from under my nail from when I was harvesting them earlier. A rustle in the distance snaps me to attention, followed by the solid thud of something hitting the mossy ground.

A human. Not the one I’ve been waiting for, but they catch my eye—curvy and stunning and flipping through a book. After a moment, they put it aside, sitting criss-cross on the creekbank, bending toward the water.

“Hello?” She asks. Wait. I know that voice. I only heard it for a moment, but I’ve been dreaming about it so much recently, I’d recognize it anywhere now. She’s back! And I can see her!

And she’s so incredibly beautiful, I can’t help but stare. I stumble toward the creek bed and she speaks again, “Hello?” I respond with a water ripple.

“Hello, I’m here.” Speaking is useless, but I whisper under my breath anyway.

“Are you the same…thing I was talking to a few weeks ago?” The water slowly turns a gold shimmer and she grins. “Can I ask you some questions?” The gold gets stronger. “Gold means yes?” The shimmer holds steady. “Am I speaking with the water?” I make it turn a deep, murky teal. “Does that mean no?” Gold. “A witch?” Teal. “A ghost?” Teal again. “An angel?” Teal. “A faerie?”

Gold shimmer. I whisper, “Yes, yes,” proud of her for getting it.

“A faerie?” She asks excitedly and I celebrate with her in the form of a water ripple. “Oh wow,” she whispers. “So you can hear me?” Gold. “Can you see me?” Ah, what do I do now? I can’t quite see her yet, but I definitely can see more of her than she can of me.

“Grey?” She’s silent for a moment, humming as she tries to understand. “You don’t know if you can see me?” Teal. “You can kinda see me?” Gold. “I can’t see you at all,” she mumbles. She looks up again, unsure where to look. “Did you know that?” It stays gold while she chuckles to herself. The sound of it is intoxicating—like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind or a bird chirping. It warms me from the inside out.

“Where are you?” She asks. The current splits into two, flowing against each other and converging in a point aimed directly at me. As she follows the arrow with her eyes to look at me, her cloud clears fully and I can finally see her. For real this time. There’s still that angelic glow that won’t go away until the Veils have been lifted but I’m not so sure I’d want it to go away anyway. She’s absolutely, positively stunning. My breath is taken away. Her smile reaches her eyes and there’s something in her mouth—something I’ve never seen before, shiny and on every tooth.

Her body curves and moves gloriously and she looks irresistibly soft and…sexy. And I don’t use that word often. I want to hold her, touch her, squeeze her, make her feel something, but she can’t even see me. Even if I tried, my touch would be nothing but the whisper of a ghost.

Glancing down, her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She asks, “What does pink mean?” I shake my head to rid my thoughts of her and the water returns to its natural, clear, blue state.

There’s a beat of silence. She awkwardly speaks up, “So, a faerie, huh?” Slowly, the calm pool turns gold again. “I’ve got some books about the Fae.” Bubbles rise in curiosity. “Are you a human-sized faerie?” Gold.

“I think I may be a bit taller than you, though…” I whisper. I’m taller than most everyone in my village, so I can only assume I’m taller than her as well.

“A lot of these books say you all hate humans,” she says matter-of-factly.

The water turns a deep, angry red. “That’s a misconception!” I say with a grumpy giggle. Although, she’s not totally wrong. Most other faeries I know do hate humans, I suppose. I’m not sure why, though—they’re so sweet and cute. Us faeries tend to have a superiority complex. But that doesn’t mean we all have it out for the entirety of the human race.

“Oh,” she says, holding her hands up. “Sorry.” I forgot she can’t hear me, so the water calms itself. “Do you hate humans?” I can’t make it teal fast enough.

We spend hours in our woodland dell together—she watches as I make the water change colors, as I make flowers bloom in patterns, and as I talk with rabbits, asking them to bring me back berries and nuts. The way her eyes light up when I make the peonies bloom makes me feel like nothing else matters. I’d sit here for hours, building and blooming the garden of her dreams if I could—just to make her happy.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks, sitting next to me on the creekbank now that we’re on the same side. The water constantly follows me to show her my location.

“Of course,” I respond under my breath, hoping something might leak through into her realm.

“Coming out here and talking to you…” she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.” She chuckles. “Like, what would someone think if they saw me giggling at the water?” I wish I could shatter the wall blocking her realm from mine, dissolving any of that hesitancy and uncertainty. “But it makes me feel sane. It’s the only time I feel like my world isn’t falling apart.”

She’s told me all about her world—a stressful job, family problems, and constant crippling anxiety. I can’t imagine living in a world like hers. Humans fascinate me, yes, but I avoid the world they’ve created at all costs—booming cities absent from flora and fauna, no magic, lifeless but overwhelming at the same time.

“That’s a new one,” she says, glancing down at the water. When she looks back up, guessing where my eyes are, she asks, “What does silver mean?”

“I’m sad,” I whisper. Almost at the exact same time, like we’re connected at the heart, we say,

“I wish you could hear me.”“I wish I could hear you.”

As she fiddles with the green moss under her legs the water slowly turns a gold shimmer. I want that too. I want to talk to her, to feel her, hug her, kiss her. I want to be hers, to protect her from all that pain in her world. But my heart drops, the water steadily turning a sad silver again. I could never be that for her.

“Why can’t I see you?” She asks, sadness laced in her voice. I conjure a gentle wind, making one of her books fly open, flipping to a page titled, The Fae and Humans: Perception and Interaction. Her head snaps toward the sound, curiosity pulling her closer. Slowly, she crouches and reads aloud, “There is an intricate balance of aural, visibility, touch, and the altered states required to bridge the divide between the Fae and human realms. Understanding the two key thresholds—The Veil of Sight and Sound and the Veil of Touch—are crucial when communicating with the Fae.

“The Veil of Sight and Sound: Faeries exist on a frequency of reality imperceptible to humans. Under normal conditions, human vision and hearing cannot penetrate this Veil; however, certain factors can alter a human's perceptual capabilities. Mild intoxication induced by substances can create a temporary overlap between the human and faerie realms. In this state, humans can see and hear faeries in their true forms.

“The Veil of Touch: Even when humans achieve the rare ability to see and hear faeries, the Veil of Touch presents a further barrier. While perception might align momentarily, the physical matter of faeries and humans does not naturally interact. For touch to occur, a human must enter a deeper altered state—one that further detaches them from their own plane.”

Taking everything in, her lips barely move when she whispers, “Intoxication?” The water points toward a ring of mushrooms nestled at the edge of the creek. Each one has a delicate pearly white cap with faint iridescent streaks that catch the light like oil on water. The ring itself isn’t perfect; they grow unevenly, edges blending with soft moss and fallen leaves. They look relatively ordinary, but those iridescent streaks tell me they’re undeniably veil lanterns, a substance that lifts both veils for humans. Moving closer to the ring of mushrooms, she asks, “If I eat one of these, I’ll be able to see and hear you?” Gold shimmer. “How does it make me feel?”

How do I put this? I make the water swirl in on itself in different directions while it turns different shades of blue and green. It spirals upward into a sphere that hovers for a moment before gracefully falling back to the creek.

“Like I’m floating?” She asks curiously. Gold shimmer. She looks back at the mushrooms, her expression torn between hope and hesitation. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she says softly, but her hand doesn’t move closer. Eventually, though, she plucks one out of the ground, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, twirling it between her fingers. “Just one?”

“Just one,” I whisper under my breath as the water turns gold. Popping it in her mouth, I watch the soft aura that still surrounds her physical form turn a pretty relaxed yellow over the course of a few minutes. She talks to me as she lets the mushroom settle in—asking how long it’ll take or what happens if it doesn’t work.

“What if I’ve been making all this up in my head?” She chuckles to herself. “And I’ve been talking to a creek this whole time? How embarrassing would that be?” She rubs her hands over her face, groaning. “I can’t believe this,” she grumbles, curling into herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she closes her eyes and mutters, “Thinking a creek is talking to me…”

“That does sound a little silly,” I say, my voice light with amusement.

Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me. The realization washes over her in waves—hesitation, awe, and then a dawning understanding.

“Hello,” I say softly, letting her take me in, her eyes tracing over my entire body.

“Wow…” she whispers in disbelief. She reaches out slowly, her fingertips trembling as they near me. But her hand passes straight through, our realms still worlds apart. Confusion clouds her face and her glassy eyes blink with disappointment.

I shake my head and remind her, “The Veil of Touch, remember?”

“Oh, I need to have another mushroom?” I nod. She hurriedly reaches for one.

“Wait.” She halts and looks up at me. “You should take it easy with those. Let’s just talk. I’ve been dying for you to hear my voice.”

“That’s true.” She looks over at the water, then glances back up at me. “You’re so…pretty,” she says. “What’s your name?”

“Soobin.” Then she tells me her name. “We can have conversations much easier now, huh?” I smile.

With the Veil lifted, we spend the hour learning all we can about each other—her favorite color isn’t just yellow, it’s turmeric. She loves how it looks when she puts a teaspoon of it in her rice cooker and it spreads throughout the water. Her favorite flower is a poinsettia because her mother used to line the front porch with them during a winter holiday called Christmas. Those things on her teeth are called braces and they’re supposed to help her teeth somehow. She hates celery and loves broccoli, especially if they’re roasted in an oven. That scar on her cheek is from learning something called skateboarding. She loves the rain but is terrified of thunder. She hates how loud her laugh is, though it's my favorite sound.

She worries about being too much and not enough all at once.

As we talk, I can’t tell how much time we have left. I can tell I’m fading from her view but she never fades from mine. Her laughter grows quieter, her giggles becoming rare until they’re gone altogether. Her high is wearing off, and with it, the fragile connection we share. I can feel her pulling back, closing herself off again, like the gentle drift of someone falling asleep without realizing it.

Her eyes stay on me, intense and unblinking, memorizing every detail of my face to hold onto me for just a moment longer. Then I see it, the shift in her expression. Realization dawns like a shadow passing over her, her gaze losing focus.

“I can’t see you anymore,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with resignation. She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “You’re gone again.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, my voice soft but steady. Over the years, I’ve forged fragile connections with humans, always careful never to push too hard. Yet no matter how gentle I am, the same thing happens—they see too much, fear too much, and never return. And I don’t blame them. It’s utterly overwhelming. There’s no denying that.

But she’s been visiting me for months and I’ve never been this close to anyone. With her, the world feels sharper, more vivid. Every time she speaks, her words resonate with something deep inside me, as if they echo through places I’ve forgotten even existed.

She occupies my every waking moment. I’ve started to feel her even when she’s not here—her absence pressing against me like a quiet storm, a warmth that lingers in the air long after she’s gone. Her voice echoes in my mind when it’s silent. Every time our eyes meet, there’s that spark, that electric connection that tells me we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary.

We’ve talked about taking the next step so many times now. But it’s a huge step. It’s about stepping into a new reality, about making something impossible real.

She nods, her eyes bright with determination. “I’m sure.”

She picks up the mushroom, turning it over in her hands as though its surface might help her validate her decision. Then, with a shaky breath, she sets it back down, her resolve wavering. “What if this isn’t real?” she whispers, her gaze fixed on her trembling fingers. “What if I’ve just been…hallucinating all of this?”

“You’re not hallucinating,” I say gently.

She hugs her knees to her chest, biting her lip. “But what if I am? And if I eat another one, I just sink deeper into this… dream? Or illusion? Or whatever this is.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I assure her, leaning closer.

She lifts her head slightly, her expression torn. “But if I need these just to talk to you…” Her voice falters. “Doesn’t that mean I’ll always be dependent on them?”

I meet her gaze, steady and unwavering. “You’re already talking to me,” I say. “You don’t need another one to keep doing that.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, silence hangs between us. Then she speaks again, “But I can’t touch you.” Her eyes glisten, her vulnerability shining through. “And I want to.”

Something in me stirs—sharp and undeniable. My chest tightens, my voice trembling, “I want that too.”

She sighs my name, and it feels like the world is tilting. Her cheeks flush as she hesitates. “I want to…maybe it’s the mushroom talking,” she says quickly, her words tumbling out, “but I want you. I want you to kiss me and hold me and make me feel—”

“I want all of that too,” I interrupt, my voice low and earnest. “But only if you’re ready.”

Her shoulders sag slightly, her head tilting as she stares at the ground. “But it’ll never be truly real, though, will it?”

“It’s real,” I say softly. “Maybe not in the way we want it to be—but real enough to feel.” Nodding, she takes several seconds to think, picking at the green moss as a distraction. “What if I ate one too?”

“Would it even affect you?”

I nod and add, “It gives me a high, but nothing…magical happens.” We both agree to eat one, giggling and talking while we let them both set in.

“I’m not feeling much different, to be honest,” she says, her voice faltering. “I’m starting to think none of this is real. I’m just… seeing you, but you’re not really there.” Her hand lifts, a trembling finger reaching toward my cheek.

Then it happens.

The moment her skin touches mine, a spark—soft, warm, and undeniable—flares between us. She gasps, jerking her hand back as though it's been burned. But before the space between us can grow too wide, she reaches out again, her palm settling against my cheek, her thumb brushing over the curve with a tentative tenderness.

Her touch anchors me, and for a moment, I can’t speak.

“…Soobin,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re there. You’re really there.”

“I know,” I say, chuckling. “I’m really here. Watch this.” I reach out, dragging my fingertips over her forearm. She gasps again, yanking her hand back. “Are you okay?” I ask, concern flickering in my voice. She nods, slowly and deliberately moving her hand forward. Then, she runs her fingers through my hair and glides them down my shoulder and arm, leaving a shiver in their wake.

“Can I…your wings?” she asks, her voice filled with awe. I let them unfold just enough for her to see. Her breath hitches as she reaches out, the tip of her pointer finger brushing against the delicate edge of one wing. It flutters instinctively at her touch, responding to her presence, which spooks her a bit.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, watching her hand.

Encouraged and confident, she places her hand fully on top of my wing, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns as though committing every curve and shimmer to memory.

“Wow…that’s unreal,” she says. “I mean, it’s real, but doesn’t seem like it should be.” She inches closer, the space between us dissolving until our knees barely touch. Her fingers run down my arm lightly before picking up my hand, examining it closely, her thumb tracing the lines of my palm, the curve of my fingers. Then, I mirror her actions, taking her hand in mine. It’s warm, human, and yet so fragile under my touch.

Her hand travels upward to trace my features with her thumb. She lingers over the arch of my eyebrow, down the bridge of my nose, along the edge of my jaw. When she reaches my lips, her thumb pauses, grazing over the softness of my bottom lip. A breath escapes me, unbidden, and her touch slows, her thumb resting there for just a moment longer before she withdraws, her hand trembling slightly as it falls back into her lap.

I respond, my thumb swiping across her bottom lip and I tug her closer by her jaw until I can feel her breath on my chin.

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper.

She nods.

It deepens and I hover over her, her legs coming out from under her while I guide her to lay down on the mossy patch, our lips never parting. Her lips feel so magical and soft and we only stop when she needs to come up for air. We smile at each other, our eyes sharing the same redness and glassy daze. I know exactly what I want to happen next, but I’m not so sure she’s ready for all that. I look at her, taking in all her beauty.

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her.

“So are you,” she slurs. She reaches for my hand that’s already resting on her hip and moves it up to her chest, encouraging me to feel all of her.

I whisper her name and ask, “Are you sure you want this?”

“Please.” My lips crash into hers again and our hands are all over each other, on each other’s bodies, in each other’s hair, squeezing and squishing and feeling and rubbing. She breaks the kiss, “Have you ever done this before? You know, with a human?”

“Not with a human,” I chuckle. “But all the anatomy’s the same.”

“That’s good,” she giggles, grabbing my hair to kiss me again, but she’s quick to pull back. “Go slow, okay?” I nod. With a snap of my fingers, flowers swirl together, carried by a gentle breeze, forming a soft pillow for her to rest her head on. “Ah, thank you. I forgot you can do stuff like that.” Lifting the skirt of her dress up, I slowly move it past her thighs and she asks with a trembling voice, “Will people see us?”

I shake my head, telling her, “I cast a shadow cloak around us. No one can see us. Not even the other fae.” A look of relief and content falls across her face. “Can I…?” I ask, lifting her dress more. She nods. With each passing inch, my heart thumps as I drag my fingertips over her legs. Lifting it over her head, she’s laying under me, mostly bare. She’s still wearing two tiny pieces of fabric that cover her chest and bottom.

“I wore these for you,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with a shyness she can’t quite hide. The veil lanterns must’ve loosened her lips.

“You did?” My hands explore her curves, reverent and curious, tracing every inch of her body. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Her skin is soft and inviting under my lips, and I scatter kisses lower, her body responding perfectly with mine. But then, I can’t hide my fascination any longer. I pause, my thumb brushing over the delicate pink fabric that’s still on her body. How do I put this? Ah, let’s just be candid. “What is this?”

“What do you mean?”

“These,” I say, running my fingers along the straps and edges of the fabric. “I’ve never seen clothes like this before.”

“Oh,” she giggles, tugging gently at one of the straps. “This is a bra. And these,” she gestures to the sides of the fabric on her hips, “are panties.” I hum thoughtfully, studying her with an amused tilt of my head.

“We don’t wear things like this. What’s the point of them?”

Her lips curve into a playful smile. “Look at me.” And I do. She’s delicious. “That’s the point.”

I smirk, my gaze lingering on her. “Am I—are you—supposed to take them off?”

“Yes,” she says, her voice catching just slightly, her flush deepening. My fingers brush over the fabric again, savoring the contrast between it and her skin. “Do you not like them?” she asks, her tone almost teasing.

“No, I do,” I reply, my voice dipping lower. “I have a feeling I’ll like your body even more.” I start to try and pull them off, but—

“Not yet,” she sighs. “Come here.” I sit up and she follows, her hand drifting to my top button. Slowly, she unfastens it, the slinky pink velvet slipping through her fingers with each deliberate motion. Once she pushes my shirt past my shoulders, I tug at the cuffs to free my arms. Her gaze stays locked on me as I fold my wings down, the delicate motion allowing me to slip the shirt off completely.

Extending her arm out, the tip of her middle finger barely touches my chest before she jerks her hand back, still not believing I’m tangible. Then she lets her hand fully press my body, dragging down to my waist. I remember how much my wings fascinate her, so I unfold them for her and she gasps.

Leaning closer, our lips fall into each other and I guide her to lay down again just the same as before. My thumb drags across the apple of her cheek, trailed by my pointer finger down column of her neck, following a line between her breasts, down to squeeze her waist. Holding her bra strap between my pointer and middle finger, I slowly pull it down, leaving kisses along the way and hoping I’m doing this whole bra-and-panties thing correctly. Then I do the same with the other side, watching as she effortlessly reaches behind her, making something snap so it falls off her chest, hanging loosely. She pulls it off herself, although I think I’m supposed to be the one that does that. Next time.

Looking down at her bare chest, I can’t help but feel giddy. The way her chest curves on itself, creating a gorgeous shape I desperately need to feel.

“I love these,” I say, kissing the side of her breast. She hums in question. And I nudge the marks on her skin with the tip of my nose. “These,” I say.

Her gaze follows mine as she glances down and asks, “Oh, my stretch marks?”

“We call them life lace.”

Her expression softens, her eyes meeting mine. “Life lace,” she repeats quietly, as if testing the words, a touch of wonder in her voice. I search and scour for every bit I can find—the most of it on her tummy, hips, and thighs. She’s still got that last bit of clothing around her hips she hasn’t taken off yet. That final barrier between us. We’ve knocked every other barrier down but something about this last one feels utterly real in a way the others didn’t.

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I pull her gently so her legs wrap around my ears gently, shoving my face into her center over that last bit of clothing, inhaling. I’ve never been this close to a human before. She smells so different from the fae I’ve been with. She’s intoxicating and delightful—my mouth waters at how delicious she smells.

“I take this off, too?” I nudge at her entrance, earning a jolt. I must’ve nudged something sensitive. She nods eagerly, helping me take them off her.

“You too,” she reminds me and I shuffle to get rid of the rest of my clothes. Looking down at her, she’s giddy and completely entranced, which twinges my heart. It’s just the veil lanterns, the cynical part of me reminds myself. Her legs are casually spread open, giving me a full display of her glistening pussy. I skate my hands up her legs, feeling her ground herself in the feeling of my hands.

Teasing her entrance with my thumb, she’s hot and wet as she flutters around nothing, waiting for anything from me. I gather just enough of her wetness to make my pointer finger slick and tap her clit, making her flinch. Then, I rub the slowest, lightest circles over the nub and she lets out a ragged sigh. Her tightened muscles relax as she allows herself to feel every move I’m making, letting her head gently fall to the pillow of flowers.

Once she’s practically dripping, I slide my two middle fingers inside her, curling them to tease the most sensitive bit with the pads of them. Bending, I flick my pointed tongue against her clit, eliciting a whine while she desperately reaches for my hair. I’ve never tasted a human either, I realize. I’m not sure anything will ever be as delicious as her again.

“Oh my god,” she whimpers. Every sound she makes is gorgeous but I can’t wait to hear what she sounds like when she comes. I bet it's the most beautiful in the world. “W—wait…” she trails off, her hip thrusts betraying her words. “Soobin, wait—” she gasps. This time, I stop. Gently wrapping her hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “I want you…all of you, please.”

I take the time to memorize what her face looks like, how her hair is splayed out against the flowers, how kissable her lips look. And I don’t resist them. Pressing my lips to hers again, they mould into each other like we should’ve never been apart in the first place. She tries to place her hands on my back, stumbling as she realizes my wings are in the way, which rustle in response. Instead, she rests them on my waist, squeezing delicately.

We hesitantly part so I can sit up on my knees. This time, I take the time to memorize everything about her body—her stomach rolls folding from holding her legs open, the life lace at the tops of her thighs, the swell of her ass squished by the ground. Everything is absolute, utter perfection.

Slowly gracing my hands to follow the curve of her waist then down to her thighs and hips, little bumps cover her skin. I forget what humans call them. Finding her clit with my thumb again, I rub agonizingly slow circles, forcing her hips to roll involuntarily. Barely prodding her entrance with my cock, I watch her shiver and whine, quickly getting impatient. When I back off, her pelvis bucks, her body begging for me on its own.

Aligning myself at her pussy again, I push myself in, only letting myself about halfway inside her but she still takes my breath away. Just as she’s about to let out a sigh of relief, I pull out of her again.

“Stop…” she whines. “Stop teasing me so much.” I chuckle with her—I guess I should get to the good stuff. “Please…please stop teasing me so much.”

I concede and when I’m finally fully inside her, everything feels so…much. It’s all so much. I feel like I’ve never felt before, like nothing has ever had any impact before her, like nothing will ever feel as good until we’re together again. I bend at my waist, supporting myself with my elbows around her face and her eyes flutter shut.

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.”

When she opens her eyes and looks into mine, still nothing matters—not that she can’t see me without the veil lanterns, not that I could disappear from her view any minute, not that we could never truly be together. The way she feels overshadows all of that.

We don’t have much time, I remind myself. I sink deeper inside her, digging my face into her neck.

“Look at me,” she reminds me and I follow her instructions. We find a rhythm we both like, desperately thrusting in and out of her. “Kiss me…kiss me please,” she whispers. Our lips meet furiously as my hips dig into hers. “I need to feel you as much as I can,” she says. “Before I can’t anymore.” Resting her arms against my lower back—right below my wings—she squeezes around me, rubbing her hands up and down my waist. Delicately and hesitantly, she slides her hands up, letting her hands rest gently where my wings meet my skin.

There’s a vulnerability to it I wasn’t expecting. It’s not something I’ve thought about before—no one’s ever touched me like that there before, not even another faerie. My breath catches when her fingers trace the delicate ridge where my wings connect to my body. I shudder, the sensation overwhelming and pleasant. Her eyes widen, searching mine, unsure if she’s crossed a line.

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

I press my forehead to hers, nodding. “It’s okay,” I respond. “More than okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, her thumbs brushing lightly against the base of my wings.

“You won’t,” I promise, though my voice is raw, barely audible. “You couldn’t.”

Her lips find mine again, gentler this time, like her touch softened the urgency between us. The rhythm slows, turning into something deeper, more deliberate. Her hands never stray far from my wings and the trust in her touch makes my chest ache in the best way. In this moment, she sees me—not just with her eyes, but as someone she wants to hold onto, even when she knows she can’t forever.

“You feel,” she gasps. “I can’t—”

“I know, baby…” I sigh. “I know.” I silence her whimpers with my mouth, swallowing any whines that escape past her lips. I argue with myself trying to decide if I should close my eyes to savor how she feels, never leaving her lips or if I should keep them open to make sure I commit the sight of her underneath me to memory. Either way is a win for me to be fair.

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips all over her body, tasting every inch of her. She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever tasted before, slightly salty and warm against my tongue, different from the typical sweetness of other faeries. Every time I press my lips to her, I kiss away a hardship. I kiss away the stress in her shoulders, kiss away the problems she faces in her day-to-day life, kiss away any anxieties she feels. I’m desperate to make her feel good, to remind her that none of that matters here. With me.

When I flick my tongue over her nipple, her back arches, a gasp following her movements. I keep my thrusts steady, feeling her release building up in her stomach. I watch as her tummy muscles tighten then she desperately reaches for my hair, pulling me closer so our bodies are pressed together again. Her arms are wrapped around my torso and I can feel her clenching around me, teetering on the edge of something incredible.

“Soobin—” she gasps. “Don’t—” Her back arches. “Hmm…I’m close,” she says, a smile evident in her voice. “Please, please…” I don’t think she even knows what she’s begging for anymore. Begging for anything—my cock, my hands, my lips, a release.

Then, her nails dig into my lower back as she bites my shoulder, groaning loudly against my skin as she comes around my cock, pussy pulsating around me as she whimpers and whines through it.

“Oh my god,” she pants and just as she starts to twitch from overstimulation, I slow my movements, peppering her neck and face with kisses. She catches her breath, whispering incoherent things in my ears, things like my name, swears, giggles.

“Use me,” she whispers. I hum in question. “Use me to make yourself feel good.” I lift her legs, pressing them toward her chest, letting me reach the deepest parts of her. And everything about her feels incredible. Pounding into her quickly, I squeeze one of her tits with one hand and use the other to hold her waist in place.

It doesn’t take long for something inside me to twist and turn, begging to be snapped so I can fill her up. My stomach ties itself into too many knots as a white hot fire burns in the pit of it. The noises she’s making adds fuel to the fire, burning and burning until I can’t hold back anymore. With a few final thrusts, everything inside me breaks, like it’s all been building until this moment. I make a conscious effort to take my time and feel everything, thinking about how her pussy feels wrapped around my cock, how her tit feels in my hand, what she smells like, what she looks like. Everything is magic.

As I catch my breath, I pull out of her so slowly she shivers and I watch as my cum spills out of her while she giggles bashfully. I panic as I realize I didn’t prepare to clean up. Why didn’t I prepare for clean-up? She finds that little piece of fabric she was wearing earlier—what was it called again?—and uses them to wipe herself clean before folding them meticulously to store in her bag.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Eh…” she hums. …Eh? “Just kinda bittersweet is all, you know?” I shake my head in disappointment. “No, no!” She runs her fingers through my hair, looking at me sweetly. “That was amazing.” She kisses me deeply. “I should’ve started with that. I’m sorry.”

“You swear?”

“Of course,” she sighs. “That was incredible. It’s just…”

“I know,” I say. “How much time do we have left, you think?” Averting her eyes from mine, she looks down to fiddle with her thumbs.

“You’re already starting to fade.”

“Then look at me,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me until you can’t anymore.” She chuckles, bringing her eyes up to meet mine. We stare at each other, running our hands over each other’s bodies until we’ll no longer be able to feel the other. Once the Veil of Touch separates our hands again, we hesitantly get dressed during the last few minutes before the Veil of Sight and Sound completely separates us. She pulls her dress back over her head, closing off my view from her.

We sit again, facing toward each other, anxiously waiting until I fade from her view. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. I start to reach for her, until I remember I can’t touch her.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Soobin,” she sniffles. I scoot closer to her.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she gestures between us. “Only seeing you when I’m on some kind of high from those mushrooms? This would never work. I can’t just…not see or hear you when I’m sober. I can’t—this isn’t—” Her words puncture my lungs and I can’t breathe. The ache in her voice echoes into my chest and I hate these fucking Veils. What’s the point in them anyway? Can’t they be destroyed?

“Don’t say that,” I plead.

She shakes her head, tears spilling over as she wipes at her cheeks with trembling hands. “I can’t keep falling deeper for you, only to lose you every time the spell fades. It’s breaking me apart.”

My throat tightens. “You’re not losing me. I’ll always be here. Always. I promise.”

“But I won’t really be here, will I?” she says, her voice cracking. “I won’t ever be in the right state of mind when we’re together.”

Her words hang heavy in the air and all I can hear is the soft babble of the creek. I try to reach for her again, forgetting again I can’t. My hand hovers uselessly in the air before falling back to my side.

“There has to be another way,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “Something we haven’t tried. A way to get rid of them so we can be together.” She looks at me, her expression a mixture of longing and heartbreak.

“And if there isn’t? What then? Do we keep doing this forever?”

Leaning closer, I say, “You’re worth it.”

Her face crumples, and she presses her hands to her face as if to shield herself from my words. “Soobin, I—” I know the edges of her vision are starting to blur, the Veil is about to take me from her. Again. “Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. “Not really. I’ll always be here. Waiting.” And then I know I’m gone by the sound of her cries. I turn the water a rich, warm shade of yellow with deep golden and earthy undertones—turmeric—so she knows I’m still there with her. She stands slowly, turns and starts to walk away but stops a few steps in, she looks back, somehow right into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

#soobin smut #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #choi soobin #chubby reader #soobin x reader

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aardvaark · 8 months ago

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im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.

#leverageposting #leverage #sophie devereaux #particularly that one of or both her parents had to move around a lot for work & so she would change herself to fit in at every new school #or new town etc etc. and that whatever original identity she had was dropped due to some kind of really awful event and her bio family think #she’s dead. eg she got into some kind of extreme legal trouble for the first time & she faked her death & everyone she knew as a kid thinks #she’s dead too. like. astrid wasn’t the first person she left to miss/mourn her.#but also that she was a teen runaway at like age ~16 and pretended to be an adult (like. 18/19) cause theres not much you can do by yourself #as a minor like booking flights or renting an apartment. and so began her first proper alias. and she was a pickpocket until she could fund #her life fully through grifting & cons.#or alternatively her parents died when she was a teen & she was old enough to become an emancipated minor (everyone in lev is an orphan)#and she kind of just fell into crime from there bc she had no one #or perhaps she got married at 17 and realised how fucked it all was and stashed money until she could run away & leave it all behind. that’s #bc of a single vague sentence on john rogers’ blog saying she was married at 17 and in context it was quite possibly a joke or random #hypothetical example but i was like what if???? What If???????#i also like the hc that she’s trans which i’ve seen a few times #in some versions in my mind her parents were okay and in some versions they were awful and in some versions it was so complicated.#i think tara has heard one story and parker or hardison have heard another and nate has never heard any story. he’s never asked.#she is here now and that’s all that needs knowing. and sophie devereaux is her real name in any way it matters.#eliot has also never asked and she asked if he was curious once and he just asked if she was curious about What He Did and that was answer #enough for the both of them. just a mutual agreement not to ask and it actually solidified their bond.#i think she struggled for a long time about whether to tell her new family The Real Story but in much the same way we never hear her birth #name bc it’s not Her anymore… she never gives The Real Story. bc it no longer defines who she is. she’s so much more than whatever happened.#lvg

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months ago

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I've been trying to figure out a dynamic between neve and rye that I find more compelling, because right now there's not much of anything there for me to sink my little teeth into. but I think I've landed on something delicious with the idea that especially after minrathous gets fucked, rye looks at neve and sees myrna -- someone he feels he keeps letting down horribly no matter how hard he tries not to and can't quite achieve the approval of/connection with that he wishes so it's better to just pull away completely and disengage rather than stay in that unshifting shame. neve is (very understandably) measured and distant with him after what happened, and he's flashing back to his student days of myrna gazing at the perpetually hungover heartbroken heap of a person of him on the other side of her desk every time he missed the deadline of a paper or project like '...can we at least both agree that this is. a bit disappointing. especially considering your potential.' (and him all smudged black eyeshadow and numb ruefulness being like 'sure that's a very kind way to put it myrna thank you'.)

aside from the 'if I let him get too deeply into this he'll go the way of brom and it'll be all my fault (again)' element, neve thinks rye is dismissing her and her city/being a bit callous in the same way he was after varric's death (listen. how fucking wild must rook's reaction to losing a beloved mentor seem to the rest of the crew who aren't seeing the blood magic paper doll ghost varric the whole time, especially those who got to see them interact. you WOULD think 'there's something wrong with this guy. putting the job first is one thing just not seeming to react at all is another this is fucking freaky', wouldn't you, especially after seeing the warmth in that dynamic in action beforehand.) perfect storm of two people who grit their teeth and turn inwards in pain deciding that not talking about it is their best bet (NEWSFLASH: IT ISN'T) lmao

(rye spent his last year of watcher training on a mostly joyless bender and then got it together enough to finish the eternal orb project last moment in a fevered near-sleepless week instead of the half a year that was intended. emmrich is both astounded and distressed to hear this. "a week? but -- but that is an astounding accomplishment rook!! and also why in the maker's good light would you ever do that to yourself?" ("well you see there was no one to stop me from doing it like that but me. and under those conditions these things tend to happen".) rye was working through/looking up stuff around transitioning and doing every kind of OTHER high level watcher research through that whole time, but ultimately he's an excellent watcher and a terrible student, at least under traditional methods. adhd from here to the fucking moon. touched by something akin to divine inspiration in moments of high tension that pulls all the threads into one coherent unbreakable cord, a bit of a frayed mess in most other settings. in our world he'd be dropping out of a masters program at the very last hurdle in this moment maker bless and protect him)

#myrna is actually really proud of him for pushing through and becoming a very fine member of the mourn watch #(and a good man)#but she is also. well. myrna. so she has never expressed as much to him. (she thought it went without saying. it did not!)#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #oc: Ellaryen Ingellvar #neve gallus #considering how satisfying the Arc with davrin has been I hope this can liven up neve and rye's interactions for me!#also very interesting and fitting b/c davrin will come for you where you live and go 'and hey btw ANOTHER THING --' no bullshit #which rye finds SO annoying but is probably why their relationship has grown so deep so quickly b/c davrin won't let him avoid him #while neve is ironically a lot more like him and it means they have a much harder time reaching each other b/c they're both so watchful #and guarded. they vibed so hard in the beginning it was all neve approves all the times b/c they have similar instincts. and now look at us #we live in the same house and politely pretend the other one doesn't exist. we're making ghosts out of each other!!!#explaining why he's semi-avoiding her. he thinks he's being thoughtful in giving her her space but uh. well.#perhaps more flight behaviour in that than he's willing to gaze at directly haha #rye looks at lucanis claiming he's a mess and goes 'oh buddy you should've seen me the first day in a year I was fully sober #and working on that fucking orb with head pounding and eyeliner running. even like this you're one of the tidiest #and most disciplined people I've ever met. you're literally fine.'#the reason the romance is so slow is not even mostly on lucanis I think rye is the slower to truly open up one in that dynamic lol #hey. I love rook. I love him so much. my trying his best underachieving babyboy who killed god when he got it together #I suspect this is going to be a situation where I've planned multiple other playthroughs #that will inevitably be hampered by '...but where is rye tho. I wish rye was here. does anyone else miss rye' lmao #for reference I've finished DA:O at least 4 times. and all four of them was sophia amell doing exactly the same things. I have a Pattern lo #a pattern I have only really broken in da:i where I have three inquisitors I care about sort of equally (adaar is my fave #but I have fondness for them all)#hawke I basically play as always the same person just AUs of him haha. what if he was a mage instead and it was somehow even sadder #that sort of thing

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loud-whistling-yes · 8 months ago

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nobody touch me i just read kj encore and SO NO ONE'S GONNA FUCKING TALK ABOUT HACHI COMPETING WITH JOKER TO BECOME A THIEF???????

#fweeet #kaitou joker #FUCK YOU AND YOUR POSSESSED PHOENIX MY BOY IS GETTING!!!!! CHARACTER!!!!! DEVELOPMENT!!!!1111111 #/lh phoenix holy shit are you okay #POSSESSION THIS PHOENIX THAT KJ ENCORE CAME OUT A MONTH AGO AND NO ONE BOTHERED TO TALK ABOUT THE FACT HACHI'S GROWING UP???????????#SHAME ON ALL OF YOU #(says the world's most deranged hachi fan)#kaitou joker encore #theres no official translation so i had to guess using google translate and whatever chinese characters i could pick out from the kanji #but i think its very likely that kje's gonna be centered more on hachi than anyone else #the first big page (p sure its the promo art we saw before chapter 1 dropped) has some pink text that no one in the discord can make out #but i think its translating into something like 'wanting to become fully-fledged'??????#and another line that is just a mess of words like 'colourful' 'boy' 'final days/final test(???)' 'adult'#so yeah best guess is something about hachi wanting to quickly grow up and his final days before being a fully fledged thief #someone who can read japanese save us 😭#BUT YEAH THEY KNOCK JOKER OUT AT CHAP 2 SO DEFINITELY NOT GONNA BE ABOUT JOKER AT LEAST FOR NOW?????#LIKE HACHI'S GOING BASICALLY SOLO THIS BOY IS GOING PLACES😭#do you know how loud i cheered when i saw him dodging the same fucking spike trap he fell into twice before #AND THEN FIGHTING OFF LASERS BY HIMSELF 😭😭😭😭#MY BOYS GROWN UP😭😭😭😭#its so weird but also... kinda satisfying? he was meant to be a relatable character to the audience as a rookie who messes up #and BY GOD did i relate to him as a kid #but know ive grown up and its kinda nice to see he's also grown???? idk its just neat

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ancha-aus · 2 days ago

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I am back and I am finally ready to answer the reblog :D

(No i am not using this as an excuse to not edit ssshhh)

I love that the magic system we got is made on the 'make-believe' rule. Which is AWESOME! Now. Why would these monsters need human flesh to life/thrive/do magic? I say it started as a cultural thing. It started with old fairytales that always spoke badly about monsters and those who are different. and some of those fairytales spoke about how monsters would eat children and take bad children away.

Which made monsters start to beleive they needed to eat human flesh and that caused the shift in magic to make them REALLY need it. and a new monster subrace was born! the kingdom where this happened probbaly was very into blood magic and necromancy as well which made the shift even easier to happen. (i would say orchard but then the whistlers wouldn't be willing to trade with them so we can't have it happen there...)

And yes! Normal monsters looking for refuge from the stronger monsters. and they welcome them in as they know what it is like to be hated and shunned.

Okay awesome!! The beginning of democracy is happening in the country of the flesh eating monsters!! I love that! and yes! That is why the whistlers vibe so much with Dust. because Dust is chill and will look for compromises and hear others out. Dude just doesn't like to deal wiht conflict so it is easier to just discuss stuff. The whistlers just really like that vibe about dust. also the fact he doesn't look down on them.

Dust meanwhile ddoesn't feel like he has aplace to judge. He has a storm that he has no way of controlling and could kill others too. He gets what it is like to have some part of you do something you have no choice over and understands you do what you can to survive.

Also i imagine that because the country is small they are also very close and work together tightly. it is more like one big city where they all live. everything else is pretty much euh... farm land for their... cattle... lmao.

And yes too all of it and i will be repeating a lot of it!!! The whistlers while having a lot of magic because of daily blood rituals and shit. They just CAN'T do spells! (exception to half whistlers. Outer is the first actually STRONG whistler in AGES. everyone was so proud on him and happy for him) I love the fact that all their magic gets absorbed into their bodies. making them much more physcial than normal monsters but instead can just shift into other shapes <3

I love that they fight more wiht their minds and like conversation (probbaly another reason why they vibed SO HARD with dust because dust also always tried to not fight as he KNEW that him casting aspell would be devastating) but when worse comes to worse they fight like animals! (which could be a nod back to the old culture where THEY were seen as lesser and violent human eatng beings who didn't deserve a chance. until they started to believe that and become those things.)

I love the name legacies for like the half blood whistlers. Like. The whistlers FULLY embrace the new generation even if they are different from them (as long as they aren't human lmao.) Outer totally still has good contact with his parents. he jsut can't see humans as just food anymore. So he is trying out other diets now. (also. sidenote. If outer is like a mage conencted to stars... I just... had the thoughts... classic and outer together would be very cute. Sans who has natural strong gravity magic who didn't go to a fancy school but like normal college instead. who loves the stars so much. meets a mage who went to magic school who has magic connected to the stars. I just think it would be cute. (and some added drama if Sans like babysits Frisk for Tori and stuff :D Okay i will stop. i just love my classic boy haha))

Oh DoppletaleAU sounds very interesting! but i think the same thing is in Whistling with just the shift in social classes and how humans are seen. so... cattle.

and yes! I love the idea that there are always some freaky other humans or monsters who want a TASTE of that forbidden food. so Whistling exports some of it but it is EXPENSIVE.

It is good that some of them see humans as the sentient and sapient thinking creatures. the protests and rallies.. but at the same time they are starving themselves. So other whistlers see it as prove that they NEED to eat the meat to stay healthy, which is true. I like that pretender has a person who helps getting these people fed by... ethetically sourced human flesh? is that what we call it? lmao.

I like that the whistlers just... don't judge people. Like. at all. You want a life young human? sure they guess. you can't get a lot of meat off of that one but sure. whatever. you still need to pay full price though.

thank you thank you! shifting and having the ability to shift would also really fuck with your mental image of yourself. Because after a while there is no way to be sure of how you really look like. So the only way for them to show their TRUE self is when they feel completely safe and content. because than the instincts to shift and hide would leave them. <3

(wait shit this is another point where the whistlers REALLY like Dust because Dust tents to hide his appearance. before using like his hood up and stuff. They could obviously sometimes see glimpses of Dust's appearance but he obivously makes it a choice to hide his appearance when around and onyl shows a bit of it when he HAS to do business and stuff... Dust relaly would ahve thrived in Whistling lmao.)

Most of the country doesn't have tastebuds and that is so funny for me. do you think they sometimes forget eyelids and it isn't until they get sand in there they are like "FUCK!"

and yes. Dust had to suffer through all kinds of cultural adventures and honestly CRIMES but he made it through. He can now eat the spiciest pepper wihtout even blinking an eye (of course it was killer's fault lmao. and killer not handling spice well is very funny). No one understood why. Then they learn Dust had business contacts in Whistling. (the idea that whitling is fucking EXCITED to see Dsut is still alive and thriving though. That is their honorary skeleton!! That is their homie!! Dust totally got offered a ride and place to move in there but Dust decided to stay with nightmare.)

Whistling just filled with a collection of overdramatic theater kids is so funny! they are just also very dangerous because they eat human flesh :D they have the weirdest decor. They really like using human bones for stuff. which... knida weirded dust out because skeelton. They eventually asked dust what is wrong and dust shrugs and spoke "I understnad you like your... decor. I am just... a skeleton. even if they are slightly different it is still a bit... weird. just culturally for me of course." they felt SO BAD. there are a few guest rooms that they made sure had like wooden furniture and shit in there. just stuff that is boring but nice enough still. Dust later on looking back and frowning. because maybe... maybe... some of those people how been trying to get his attention in the romantic way...

It is so funny to me that Whistling and so the whistlers. Just fucking like dust. Dust is there favourite blorbo lmao.

Dust's past is just so funny becuase he did ALL THE THINGS and he only talks about it if he thinks it is needed to talk about. and he jsut. shrugs. why bore people with it?

nightmare disagrees!! This is very serious! Dsut what do you mean you were in close contact with flesheaters?! Dust: ... they generally just wanted out at most? I smuggled people who wanted to be smuggled :/ They invited me over for like mutlieple meals but i could't leave this country so they like. rented hotels and stuff to make me meals. ngihtmare: .... *taking deep breahts because what the FUCK dust?!*

Ngihtmare drags dust back to his office and they had a LONG conversation about all dust ddi and what knda deals he made.

Oh i LOVE pretenders story arc! And his character growth!! that is GREAT!

... So i SWEAR this isn't intentional...

Im back... Again. And on brand... Again.

Um so that flesh eating shapeshifter kingdom...

Is there any known kingdom it would neighbor? Does it neighbor Orchard since Dust apparently has been there? Do you have any ideas for what they would look like? Does DUST have an idea for what they look like? Do they just out of habit shift into things familiar to those in proximity since its hoe they hunt? DO the hunt by shifting a luring humans into a sense of security? When Dust used to make deals with them would they find it more polite to shift to something similar to a skeleton but just... Wrong and uncanny valley? Since they hunt humans and not monsters or animals so they have had no need to mimic those perfectly tu lure them in unlike with the humans. How many eyes would they have. Do the dishes look great and appealing? Would some look more raw and grotesque like how some people eat raw beef? Would they gift things from their country that would be made of for example human teeth in jewelry or human skin in like bags or such like we did and still do for the teeth and bone of animals and leather/pelts? Would they keep humans like we do cattle?

I'm... Gonna stop for now, yeah. I am very enthusiastic about shapeshifters... Especially those that could be classified as skinwalkers and/or flesheaters. They're funky.

Blinks my big ol eyes at you 🥺. Glad to have you back Flesh Anon! And please know I'm gonna go a lil crazy about this ask because!! I love worldbuilding! And it also incorporates magic-laws from another of my projects so!! Double-win!!

So, first, I DO think it neighbors Orchid! Though, only through a treacherous little stretch of land, because *technically* about a mile radius of no-man's land exists between it and other kingdoms! It's a longstanding kingdom that no one dares to really bother because, well, the monsters there are NOT welcoming of humans for obvious reasons. I think it'd be to the northeast of Orchard, entirely landlocked and almost a sort of buffer that deterred the warring factions from even glancing at Orchard (between the freaky shapeshifters and the God-Kings? Yeah, no) but the two never made an alliance. The citizens of Orchard, while treated poorly, welcomed all species, including Humans, and so this shifting kingdom (thinking of calling it 'Whistling' because it sounds cool lol-) didn't take that kindly and decided to keep to themselves.

And, Dust's operation as crime-lord extended pretty far- (and suddenly I'm realizing that him visiting would throw a wrench in the whole Storm thing so: slight retcon: he invited visitors over on multiple occasions, and they would bring him/cook him meals, still as a part of sharing culture-) and they had good meat for the selling, so Dust did what he had to! He has several folks he knows from the crime days, but he can usually get a sense for a shifter if he's around one, anyone sneaking in or playing refugee.

Appearance Question!!! Okay. Once, a long, long time ago, these monsters were driven out of their homes. They used to be spread all across the continent, solo-hunters or living in small groups. They'd hunt humans just as humans hunted a deer. For food. No one knows why their magic needs human flesh to function, but they tried to stay modest and only take what they must. Live amongst the people. These monsters are born into the world in the shape of a mist, and take any solid shape they like, so long as it does not resemble a human. These are the easiest forms to maintain, but if a monster wants to looks like a human, they must eat the flesh. Most monsters back in the day would appear as just that, monsters, but when they were found out and driven from their homes to the Whistling Wastes? They banded together to start their own land. They disguised as humans, luring them in, keeping them captive generation after generation, eating them as they saw fit. Now? Now that the wastes are filled with life and their food supply is secured? They tend to just look like normal monsters, indistinguishable unless someone spots them changing shape. Ofc, some who work with the humans try to mimic them, put them at ease, and the disguises are just ever so wrong. These are the uncanny Valley moments.

^Along those same lines, monsters who disguise as human without eating flesh often lose their form much more quickly, and tend to wear human disguises while hunting when they're away from home + easy prey. Dust has seen a Whistler lure someone down an alley and lash out before they could even scream.

<- Long story short? These are still monsters fundamentally, they are made of magic, so it's the solid humans which are hard to mimic and less monsters (though if they don't have a perfect idea in mind anatomy can get... iffy and almost body-horror for either way-). And most skilled monsters will have a set of 'persona' they put on to lure in their prey, but a starving or young one will totally take a person or voice from the preys normal environment and horribly twist it! (Oh!! And they would totally shift to look like skeletons when around Dust, and *he* would find it uncanny, if only because he can tell that under their clothes they didn't form the bones quite right so they shift a bit awkwardly!)

Meal-wise? I think it really depends on who's visiting or cooking! Some monsters prefer to eat the flesh Raw and juicy and still warm, while others take pleasure in cooking! And the funniest bit? Seasoning and additional flavors? Super super faint to a Whistling monster, because their magic refuses to recognize it as food/input that's important unless it's cranked up super high. So? Those who put flavor into their dishes? They are INTENSE. Which makes the meals very yummy sometimes, or too much, depending on any normal species eating it. Meanwhile others focus on presentation! I think those who meet with Dust focus more on the presentation and less on taste, because They think the aesthetic is important haha!

The gifts idea is super sick and I didn't even think about it! I think they're very sparse to waist resources, but I do like the concept of bones and leather! I think the most common gift of peace is a string of carved human teeth/bones. If it's placed on a door or worn on a person, it's a sign that this place/peeson is safe for their kind and an ally. Meanwhile they keep things like the leather to themselves for their weapons, armor, bags, etc. Though! Hair is strangely a big export for them too, because they tend to let humans tend to their own hair and it comes in different textures + colors that can be used in weaving and other fiber-arts. Human vertrebre are a big deal too, old traditions in which, giving a loved-one a vertebre is equivalent to throwing an apple in ancient Greece (it was a method of confession). Vertebre are displayed in many ways but are always safe and treasured!

And you nailed it! Humans are totally kept like cattle. Maybe a bit more humane, but not particularly. Most Whistling monsters view humans as lesser lifeforms and don't truly bother to acknowledge their sentience. It helps that *most* humans in Whistling are so many generations deep with only a few new ones every year or so? Yeah, they don't know any better. (I actually think Chara (Killer's backstory) was bought from Whistling in an auction as an infant and raised in Orchard post-smuggling.) Sometimes a monster will have attachments to a certain human and keep them around, like the cow you bottleraised from a calf you keep around? But that's far and few between, and usually those humans are miserable because they see what happens to the others.

(Fun fact! The oc I'm directly inserting for this area, Pretender, showcases a fun quirk about Whistling as well! He's a monster who works as essentially a Human Vet, and will heal health complications in stock/pet humans. He does it for the love of the job, he knows human anatomy better than anything because he studied, and he's great at it. He's also the best disguised in the whole kingdom. Only thing? His reputation as a doctor is SO well known that occasionally he gets letters or desperate humans coming in looking for treatment for illnesses. And he'll do them! For free! Because he's just having fun with it. The humans in Whistling are the most healthy humans across the continent, rivaling Sanctuary, and it's because without morals they were able to study. Eventually Pretender runs into a stray human who's usually non-verbal and young and kinda imprints on him, and he humors it. Only to get really attached and accidentally stop seeing humans as lesser, which throws his world-views for a loop lmao but that's unrelated-)

ANYWAYS!! Glad You're excited about this other kingdom! They won't be mentioned much/at all in the Main story I don't think unless it's a cameo, but I love fleshing it the world and it adds so much texture to the chaos happening around Orchard haha! (Also, again, perfect excuse to weave Doppletale's story in!)

#NewAgeAU

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