#only altered in form. For any system

[terry-the-insane]

My favorite g/t trope is when T is scared of falling off high places even though being really small means your terminal velocity (maximum speed at which you can fall) is greatly decreased and T could probably fall off the roof of a 5 story building and only get scratched.

[rin-and-jade]

Types of Amnesia

Diagram created by me

General criteria for amnesia:

Memory loss

Confusion

Inability to recognize familiar figures/places

Difficulty recalling names or places

Not remembering where you went

Worser ability to remember things that had happened Post on how to handle these kinds of amnesia: click here!

Generalized Amnesia Where a person completely forgets everything about themself and have no recollection of what, where, and who they spoke to. This can describe a blackout switch and may still recognize who they are.

Localized Amnesia Where a person is unable to recall a specific/series of event from the whole, which creates an incomplete picture of the situation. For example, remembering childhood but not the abuse.

Selective Amnesia Where a person only lost some and retain the rest, forgetting parts yet not all of them. This can describe greyouts as it grasps some information/sensory yet not enough to tell what exactly happened. One example is playing the phone and unable to recall what occured, only to jump its memory right to being at bed.

Emotional Amnesia Where a person has an intact memory and it's details on what had happened, but do not remember what the event feels like (e.g. was scared, happy, etc.). One description is that you're watching something that didn't happen to you, because you don't feel like being in the scene itself.

Continuous Amnesia Where a person fails to retain full parts of the event/day, for a set period of time (can vary from minutes to days) and create an accumulative, small bits of selective amnesias, continuously, leaving many gaps in a chronological timeline. This usually happens in times or stress, or abuse.

Fragmented Amnesia Where a person has an unrelated, and/or disjointed memories that does not go with the timeline's order, creating confusion and difficult to grasp the cohesive picture of what truly happened. Emotional amnesia may be present in this type. Bonus for systems:

Amnesia barriers Where a person fronting is not able to recall other alter's memories, which is a form of retrograde amnesia and compartmentalization. Because the fronter will only retain any information before switching out with the next one, the rest experiences anterograde amnesia as it cannot form and remember those memories, unless being coconcious or cofronting (even though, this is not always guaranteed).

Take notes that amnesia can still happen outside system things due to comorbidities like anxiety disorders or depression, this does mean systems are bound to experience more amnesia compared to non-systems folks out there.

Do you have any discussions about this? Or would like to describe your own way of seeing these different types of amnesia? Or have more to add? Feel free to tell them here!

- j

[magnetothemagnificent]

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

[politicalprof]

The Declaration of Independence:

I usually only post this on July 4, but on "No Kings" day, the Declaration of Independence. If you've never read the whole thing, you should:

"In Congress, July 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America, When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."

[hel1houndz]

what actually are endogenic systems?

• Endogenic is an umbrella term that refers to all systems that are not completely traumagenic in origin.

Why are some people claiming to be endo?

• people claiming to be endogenic systems may:

• be misdiagnosed, they may not have DID/OSDD and may have a different disorder.

• may not have researched. Which is not a excuse. You cannot claim to have any disorder without any level of research.

• they may be a traumatic system in denial of there trauma.

• singlets with fractitious disorders [Factitious disorders are conditions in which a person deliberately and consciously acts as if they have a physical or mental illness when they are not really sick.]

•singlets misidentifying normal experiences

• singlets who enjoy "being a system" finding it fun etc

Why can't endos exist?

• as previously stated. DID/OSDD is a TRAUMA RESPONSE DISORDER. you cannot have it without trauma literally.

• OSDD/DID occurs because of childhood trauma between the ages 4-9 (commonly). Because extreme trauma happens when the majority of your "personality" is formed by then. the trauma interferes with your personality development, causing the formation of other alters to help cope with that trauma / deal with the brunt of the trauma and survive day to day life.

• OCDD/DIDs can only be formed through trauma.

Why are endos so harmful?

• they spread very harmful misinformation. (Even the idea of being endogenic, forming without trauma)

they spread dangerous misinformation and stigma (demonising roles (persecutors for example)) impossible beliefs (alter death, sys hopping etc)There growing presence in general on many platforms

• endos trying to say that they have any experience to anything close to the serious trauma that causes DID/ OSDD is so so harmful to actual DID/ OSDD have had to live through and survive.

• WE ARE ALREADY STIGMATISED AND DEMONSIED IN ALL SORTS OF MEDIA AS IS.

• IT IS SO HARMFUL AND HURTFUL TO SYSTEMS WHO HAVE ACTUALLY SURVIVED AND BEEN THROUGH THE HORRORS AND TRAUMA THAT CAUSES DID/OSDD - OUR TRAUMAS ARE NOT BADGES FOR YOU TO WEAR.

- blurred asf

[astra-ravana]

On Astral Travel

Astral projection is a practice associated with the idea of an out-of-body experience, where one's consciousness is said to travel outside the physical body to explore the physical or astral plane. Similar to lucid dreaming, astral projection is reflexatory. The more often it is carried out the easier the process becomes. Here is a general guide to astral projection.

Preparation

Find a quiet, comfortable space where you won’t be disturbed. Dim the lights, turn off electronic devices, and ensure a comfortable temperature.

Practice deep breathing exercises to calm your mind and body. Progressive muscle relaxation can help you ease tension from head to toe. Consider meditating to achieve a focused and peaceful mind state. Some even use a sleep state to enter the astral.

Techniques for Astral Projection

• The Rope Technique: Imagine a rope hanging above you. Visualize reaching out and mentally climb it, feeling the movement without physical effort.

• The Monroe Technique: Lie down and achieve a state of complete relaxation. Focus on the sensation of vibrations throughout your body as you enter the hypnagogic state. Try to "roll out" of your body with your non-physical form.

• The Wake-Back-to-Bed (WBTB) Method: Set an alarm to wake up after 4-6 hours of sleep. Stay awake for a short period and then return to sleep with the intention of astral projecting.

• The Visualization Technique: Visualize yourself floating away from your physical body or moving through a tunnel or pathway to another realm.

During the Experience

1. Stay Calm: Feelings of vibrations, floating, or other sensations are common and should be accepted without fear. Remain calm and open-minded to the experience.

2. Exploration: Once you feel separated from your physical body, explore your surroundings. Engage with your environment, but avoid getting too excited, as emotions can quickly end the experience. From this simple starting point come infinite possibilities. You can explore the physical world with your astral body, you can also gain entry to different areas of the astral plane through various gates and portals.

3. Home Base: You can usually establish a sort of pocket for yourself in the astral, with relative ease. Just tear open reality and enter the rift, with the intent of going home. Usually this area will start off as something familiar and comfortable like your childhood home or school, but similar to a dreamscape. You can alter and change this area as you see fit.

4. Creation: In the astral, especially within areas you control, you are capable of vast creation. You can build a magick library, a room full of toys, an enchanted mansion. You are limited only by your imagination.

5. Astral Body: Your astral body also has a default form. This is sometimes similar to your physical body, sometimes not, instead resonating with your soul instead. This body can be altered and shifted to different forms with practice.

6. Return to Body: Focus your intention on returning to your physical body. Gradually deepen your breaths and wiggle your fingers and toes to ground yourself. You may use thread or a cord to guide you back to your physical body.

After the Experience

After returning, take time to reflect and write down the details of your experience. Pay attention to any emotions, visuals, or insights gained. Like any skill, astral projection can improve with regular practice and patience. This is a rich and complex practice with many different approaches and belief systems. Experiment with different methods until you find a process that works for you.

Safety and Considerations

Approach astral projection with a positive and inquisitive mindset. Accept that not everyone will have the same experiences, and managing expectations is essential. Astral projection can also facilitate access to different realms, including the spirit world or Otherworld. These types of journeys can be dangerous. In some cases injuries to the astral body can extend to the physical body. Use caution and common sense when exploring.

Astral projection is a highly subjective experience, and the practice and outcomes can vary greatly from person to person. It is important to approach it with an open mind and proper knowledge. That being said, astral projection is like a reflex or a muscle of the mind. The more it is exercised the more natural the practice becomes. Practice and persistence are key. Once mastered, the possibilities are limitless.

[megalony]

Dangerous Afflictions

This is my first time writing for David! Clark Kent, I fell in love with the new Superman movie.

I hope you will all like it, if you have any Clark ideas please, please send them in.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars @shypy92 @nikfigueiredo @sabsthedoll @rach2602 @itshamleth @ladespedidas @devilslittlehelper @buckslifeline @wanniiieeee @jaydaaasworld

Main Masterlist

Summary: After Clark is exposed to kryptonite, he and (Y/n) stay at his parent's farm so he can try and recover. But Clark doesn't realise that he's putting his family in unforeseen danger when all he wants to do is keep them safe.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clark couldn't breathe.

There weren't many instances where he found himself ill and he could take a good beating and heal faster than anyone else. But being in a position where he felt like his windpipe was being crushed and his face and throat were swelling like a balloon, this wasn't an everyday thing for Clark.

His trembling hand moved to his throat as he gasped for a proper breath. Being away from the kryptonite didn't seem to help very much, but he didn't expect it to. The poison was already in his system and the light from the small sun that had been crafted had only done so much to help him combat the poison.

His body wasn't infinite or as hybrid as people thought, it would take him time to get his system back into working order and rid this stuff from his body, especially with how much of it he had absorbed.

He knew his eyes were red and he was lucky they weren't swollen shut, but they were stinging like acid had been poured directly into them. At least he could still blink and see properly. His skin was tight and inflamed in places and his lips were dry from each harsh breath he had to intake.

He felt like he was going to be sick, his stomach was churning like a cement mixer and his head was pounding. Getting through this was going to be a real fight for him.

Clark was glad to see that baby Joey was back with his dad, the sight of them cuddled together and walking away safe and sound made Clark's chest ignite with adrenaline and had a smile trying to form on his lips.

It was something that made Clark's mind wander as he stood outside the corrupted portal that had closed in on itself.

In a few months, that sight would be him. In little over three months Clark would be a father with a child in his arms. He would have a baby, another life that he needed to protect, but this would be someone who relied on him. Someone he would love with every fibre of his being, just like (Y/n).

It was going to make things interesting, especially his relationship with (Y/n). She couldn't be seen to be with both Clark and his alter ego Superman, which meant that when they had their baby, the world would never know that Superman had a child.

Clark hung his head down as his hand scratched at his neck once again and he moved to rub the back of his neck where a dull ache was pulsing through his spine and the nape of his neck. His nose twitched and he sighed through gritted teeth, still feeling like he could barely breathe normally.

Kryptonite wasn't something Clark was often exposed to, but it felt like an allergic reaction. His body itched, sometimes swelled, his breathing got shorter and cut off as the poison worked through his body. God, he wished there was an antidote so he didn't have to wait this out.

His body felt sluggish as he dragged his boots towards the edge of the tent the portal was hidden in.

But he didn't get one foot out the tent before two people were entering the tent.

Shock plastered across Clark's face and his sore eyes widened when (Y/n) appeared in front of him, with Mr Terrific in tow behind her. The smile on her face was one that made Clark's heart skip a beat and he felt like he was about to melt into a puddle when her arms hooked around his neck.

Just having her here in his arms was enough to make Clark feel like he was on top of the world and it brought that extra breath back to his chest that was struggling. He took a few steps back so they were under the cover and privacy of the tent, just in case any of the very few people out there were paying attention.

The world couldn't know that Clark Kent was Superman, nor that (Y/n) was Superman's partner too. Things had to stay separate to keep everyone safe.

His head bowed down until his lips and nose were meshed against the top of (Y/n)'s head, inhaling her scent through croaky breaths. He couldn't help but close his eyes as if he was now in a state of bliss and his arms tightly bound around her waist, pinning her against his chest.

He found himself smiling brighter, despite the sting in his inflamed skin when he felt (Y/n) turn her head so she could kiss his cheek. And he felt one of her hands unhook from around his neck so her palm could cup his cheek. The feeling of her thumb gliding over his skin had shivers coursing through his system and he almost closed his eyes again, but he tried to look down at her.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was like music to his ears and the concern dripping from her tone almost made his heavy legs go weak.

"You shouldn't be here." He uttered the croaky words against her temple where he placed a few soft kisses.

He was glad she was here, he was happy to have her arms around him and soak in the comfort she gave. But Clark didn't want her at any risk or in trouble or danger by being out here. This was guarded territory, this was Luthor's land and his portal that they had just destroyed. Clark didn't know what lengths Luthor might go to, especially if he wanted revenge for this.

But they were all leaving now anyway, and the portal was closed. There was a much less sense of danger now, and it wasn't as if (Y/n) was doing anything dangerous. Her sole concern right now was looking after Clark.

"And you should be careful." (Y/n) tilted her head back so she could look at her husband with a pointed expression that made him glance down to his boots as if he were a child being scolded.

She let her head slump back against his shoulder and she dropped her hand from cupping his face in favour of patting his chest. "You didn't answer the question." She mumbled softly, feeling Clark hum as he kissed the top of her head.

"I don't feel great."

(Y/n) could tell by the sound of his breathing and his heaving chest that he wasn't doing amazingly well, but it was still astounding to hear him admit it. Clark was the kind of person who would pretend a broken bone was a mere sprain or carry on trying to look out for others even if he was on Death's door. He minimised and hid things because he didn't think it was important or he didn't want to be a bother.

But he had learnt that he didn't have to do that around (Y/n). He hated it if she hid things like that from him, so it worked both ways.

"Then we need to go home." (Y/n) tilted her head back just enough so that she could attach her lips to Clark's throat. She felt how he held his breath at her touch and she smiled against his skin.

Her left arm moved to bind around his lower back while her right hand stayed pressed into the centre of his chest, helping to keep him upright and steady since he seemed wobbly on his feet. Something which didn't happen very often.

"Let's get you guys home." Mr Terrific was already walking out the tent before the couple could thank him for the offer. It wasn't as if they had any other means of transport to get out of here.

Clark squinted and bowed his head at the bright sunlight that streamed down on them and he gruffed, feeling sluggish as he dragged one foot in front of the other. But his lips quirked up and his steps slowed so he could look down at his wife.

He shifted his arm that was around her waist so he could press his palm against the lower side of her stomach.

"Someone's lively." He mused, unable to keep the smile off his face as he felt the baby kicking against his palm, almost as if they knew he was there.

"You've woken them up." (Y/n) teased back as the pair of them slowly aimed for the strange aircraft that Mr Terrific had adapted himself.

She tried her best not to wince or twitch and give away the slight discomfort she was now feeling. The baby seemed to have livened up since she saw Clark, something (Y/n) wasn't always used to, but they must have sensed him because they were wriggling and kicking up a storm now.

The kicking, combined with the headache (Y/n) was starting to feel made her want to sit and close her eyes.

Her lips pursed at the way Clark slumped down into a seat once they were in the aircraft that was like a tiny, modified plane. He groaned and closed his sore eyes, binding his arms around his chest as he took deep breaths presumably to stop himself from being sick.

(Y/n) leaned over, resting her hand on his shoulder so she could peck his temple that was flushed like he had been sitting in a sauna.

A sudden breathlessness took over (Y/n) once she sat down in the seat beside Clark's. She tipped her head back and took a moment to close her eyes. She hadn't felt like this on the journey down here to find out what was happening and find Clark. Maybe the day was starting to catch up with her.

A ghost of a smile traced over her lips when she felt Clark's heavy hand rest on her thigh, and the feeling of his thumb stroking up and down her inner thigh was soothing.

She kept her eyes closed while their journey started and Clark told Mr Terrific the address of his parent's farm. Clearly he wanted somewhere quiet and comforting to stay and recuperate.

God, her headache was starting to get worse. It felt like someone was constantly hitting at a chisel, trying to carve a new work of art out of her head. Maybe it was the flying, maybe it wasn't agreeing with her.

She was glad it didn't take long for them to arrive at the farm which had steadily become a second home to her since she and Clark got together. His parents had taken her in as if she were their child- she guessed this was how Clark had felt all his life when they took him in too- and made her feel loved and welcome.

"Do you need a hand?" There was something sweet in (Y/n)'s voice that dragged a chuckle past Clark's lips.

It should be the other way around. It should be him asking her if she needed a hand and offering to help her up or hold doors open for her, not (Y/n) trying to care for him.

He slumped his head back against the headrest and squinted up at his wife with quirked lips as she stood beside him, holding her hands out like she was actually willing to try and lift him up. Clark knew she wasn't weak, far from it, but he wasn't sure it would be the best idea to try and let her pull him up or hold his weight up, especially when she was six months pregnant.

His hand grasped the back of his chair but he held his other hand out to take (Y/n)'s. He didn't push any weight onto her or let her pull him up, but her touch was comforting and reassuring as he heaved up to his feet.

His tall stature meant he didn't fit in the craft properly so his shoulders hunched forward and he hung his head down, stumbling after (Y/n) as they both climbed down. Chiming their thank you's and grateful remarks before Mr Terrific left.

"Clark! Oh honey, what happened?"

It was inevitable that a smile tugged on Clark's lips when his mum's southern accent hit his ears. It was like a light had been shone directly onto his heart. He spoke to his parents almost every day on the phone, but it had admittedly been a while since he had visited in person. And it wasn't very good to turn up when he was ill rather than for a social visit.

"K- kryptonite, sorry ma." He winced as if he had done something wrong, and his tired eyes watched his dad hurry forward after being pushed by his mum. He heard her utter 'well help him.' as she nudged his dad in the right direction and that sassy tone to her voice was almost an antidote for Clark.

As soon as his dad grabbed his arm and looped it around his neck, Clark tried to lean his weight to the right so he wasn't crippling (Y/n). He ended up with an arm around each of their shoulders, despite leaning more on his dad than his wife.

Clark could feel his mind spinning around in circles as they both helped him inside and his mum became the ringleader, ushering the way to his old bedroom as if none of them knew where it was.

As they headed towards the stairs, (Y/n) took a deep breath and bowed her head that felt like it was going to explode. And to top it off, the baby was doing so many summersaults that she was sure she was going to be sick in a moment if she didn't get to sit down soon.

She did her best to hold down a groan, she didn't want Clark worrying or thinking that something was wrong. He was the one in need, not her. (Y/n) was just a bit under the weather.

She leant her cheek against his chest as the three of them made an awkward hobble up the stairs. It was clear Clark was getting more and more lethargic because he was dragging his feet on each step and he was almost putting his full weight onto his dad.

The stairs and the landing floorboards creaked as the three of them trudged into Clark's room.

Bile rose in the back of (Y/n)'s throat and the room momentarily spun around her when they got into his room. She stumbled to the right but with Clark's unsteady balance, none of them noticed.

They tried to be graceful but Clark ended up flopping onto his childhood bed which gave an ungodly creak as he crashed onto his back. His dad swung his legs up so he was fully laid out on the bed and when his mum tried to run her fingers through his hair, Clark leaned into the touch. He could barely keep his eyes open.

"You sleep now honey, and you'll feel right as rain."

Reaching out, (Y/n) grabbed the headboard with her left hand while her other hand squeezed Clark's shoulder. She felt like collapsing down and lying there with him.

He took her by surprise with the force which he grabbed her wrist with and he tugged on her arm, groaning as he turned to try and kiss her skin. "Stay." He uttered, as if (Y/n) was thinking of leaving him on his own so soon.

"We'll give you two a moment." The pointed look his dad gave his mum caused her to sigh, but they both disappeared from the room quickly enough.

A bout of dizziness washed over (Y/n) and she slumped down onto the edge of the bed, although there wasn't much space with Clark's broad frame sprawled out like this. She tried moving her hand from his shoulder and dragged her fingers through his unruly curls, watching how they bounced back and jumped like coils and springs as she ruffled them.

The touch was clearly soothing because Clark was turning and moving his head like he was chasing her touch, and it made (Y/n)'s heart leap. But it didn't do anything to soothe the raging storm that was getting worse within her.

She tried to put her focus onto Clark, taking note of his reddened skin that was similar to an allergic reaction. He looked a little better, but he was still sweating and breathing in huffs and pants. He looked like he was fighting off an infection or a fever, but that was just how the kryptonite was affecting him.

The way he was shuddering made her wince and feel bad for him so she bent forward and kissed his burning temple. She had to close her eyes and her lips stayed against his skin for longer than intended because she feared if she sat upright, she might fall over.

A great fog was rolling in and clouding her mind and her feet itched in her shoes which scraped against the carpet as she fought to remain calm and hold herself together.

"You're gonna be okay, you- you just need rest," It was too hard to force herself to smile.

(Y/n) slid her hand down from Clark's hair so her hand was cupping the side of his neck to try and keep giving him comfort and keep him calm. But she had to bow her head and turn to the left, leaning over the side of the bed because she didn't know if she could stop herself from being sick or not.

At the feeling of her receeding touch and how she was shaking, Clark grimly opened his eyes and tried to blink past the blurred vision to look at her properly.

His features twisted into a frown that had his upper lip curling when he noted the distress written across his wife's tense features. She looked ill. She was starting to shake and tremble like he was. She wasn't looking at him and she was almost doubling over. Something wasn't right.

His grip tightened on her wrist while he dug his right elbow down into the mattress in an attempt to steady himself. He pushed up, leaning most of his weight on his elbow so he could arch forward and try to be a bit closer to (Y/n) to find out what was wrong.

"Sweetheart, y- you okay?" He spoke through his teeth, huffing to try and breathe properly because his chest was still tight.

But his blood ran cold when he heard (Y/n) barely able to utter "Feel sick," under her breath.

There wasn't time for Clark to respond or even to try and reach out for her. (Y/n) tore her wrist out of his grip and scrambled onto wavering legs just in time to grab the rubbish bin near the door. She doubled forward, clinging to the bin as her body shook and she heaved, throwing up her lunch.

She coughed and gagged so much that she could barely take in a proper breath and it sent stars twinkling before her eyes. Her stomach clenched and her chest tightened like it was a rope being twisted into a thousand knots. All the overwhelming feelings and sensations sent (Y/n) down to the floor on her knees, clutching the bin to her chest like it was some kind of medallion or comfort teddy.

"Damn."

A groan fell from Clark's lips and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, struggling to roll off the side and get onto his legs that had since turned to jelly. Shivers broke out in his system again and he shook his head to try and clear his mind enough to reach his wife.

He stumbled forward until he was within reach of her and he let himself crash down to his knees behind her. His hands clung to her arm and the other on her shoulder, trying to steady her and cling to her in case she was about to topple over, but then again Clark wasn't very sturdy either at the moment.

His lips attached to her neck and he closed his eyes as he tried to take deep breaths to get (Y/n) to copy him. His hand started to glide shakily up and down her left arm while the other squeezed her shoulder and when he gave a little nudge, (Y/n) leant a little of her weight back into his chest. She didn't want to lean up against him when he wasn't well either, but Clark was trying to hold her up.

"You didn't tell me you… you were sick." Clark could feel his head spinning, but he felt a little more stable than he had done earlier.

Why didn't she mention that she wasn't well? Why didn't (Y/n) tell him she was feeling sick? He needed to know, he couldn't just walk around oblivious like this. He would of found out sooner or later, just because he was unwell didn't mean she had to hide this from him.

He peppered his lips up her neck until he reached her jaw and his nose tickled her cheek. Clearly they both needed a bit of looking after right now.

"I felt okay before, got the shakes now." (Y/n) winced and hid back a whimper as she set the rubbish bin down in front of her so she could hold her hand out. She felt the way Clark hummed against her jaw but when he looked to see what she was doing, his breathing changed and his chest hardened.

She was trembling, she could barely hold her arm out in front of her with how badly it was jittering. And Clark's murmur of "Oh baby," only made her shaking ignite.

This was just like the bouts of morning sickness she got at the beginning of the pregnancy. (Y/n) couldn't count the number of times Clark had found her hunched over the toilet or curled up on the bathroom floor. Each time he had carried her back to bed, and once he had taken her to the hospital because he had been so worried.

Those bursts of sickness came out of the blue at all times of the day and (Y/n) got horrible shakes when she was sick like that. But this couldn't be morning sickness, it had wore off already and this was so out of the blue.

Her head pressed back into Clark's shoulder, despite not wanting to lean on him or put too much weight into him in case it set him off balance. And she moved one hand to press down into her abdomen when she felt the baby wriggling. Again.

Clark almost managed a smile when he slid his hand down from (Y/n)'s shoulder to cup her stomach too. But his smile faded before it began. His lips tore into a frown and his brows furrowed as he tried to focus his senses.

"Their heartbeat, it's elevated, getting faster."

Ever since he was a child, Clark had to learn how to tune all the noises of the world around him. His mum spent a long time teaching him how to focus, how to block out the sound of a cricket or the sound of her heartbeat which used to overpower Clark and send him into an overload. He could hear people's breathing from fifty feet away. He could hear their pulse and them chewing food in another room.

He could hear the tractors on nearby fields and at night he could hear the corn crinkling and wavering in the night breeze. It took time to tune his hearing down and ignore all the background noises.

But when (Y/n) got pregnant, it changed things. Clark had something he wanted to listen to and pinpoint, not just (Y/n)'s heartbeat that he was frequently listening to so he knew if she was alright or scared or happy or sad.

Now, there was a little constant beating that he loved to listen to like it was his most favourite song in the world. Their baby's heartbeat was music to Clark's ears and he often found himself listening to it while he was in another room or when he couldn't sleep. It reassured him that their baby was okay and safe and that everything was well.

He wasn't comforted by that sound right now. He was frightened.

The baby's heart was speeding up and becoming uneven, and the baby was kicking and moving a lot more than usual. That wasn't a good sign, that was an implication that something might be wrong with them or with (Y/n), and Clark didn't like the sound of that.

A croaky "Oh no," tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips before she jerked forward away from Clark's chest and bent over to throw up whatever was left in her stomach into the bin.

Her throat tightened as she coughed and started to wretch, feeling like she needed to keep being sick but she didn't have anything but bile left in her system. Shakes broke out all over her body again and she coiled her arms around her chest on top of her bump. She felt like curling up in a ball on the floor.

The feeling of Clark's lips pressing against the back of her head was somewhat comforting and she tried to focus on his hands that were roaming up and down her arms to try and help her and somehow make her feel better.

When she felt sure that she wasn't about to gag or throw up again, (Y/n) tried slouching back against Clark's chest. But the way she pressed one hand against her chest made him panic.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at his wife in his arms, but it was (Y/n)'s breathing that worried him. He watched as she started to take shallow breaths this time and her eyes closed like she was finding it hard to breathe and she was starting to struggle.

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open when she felt Clark's chest vibrate with a deep growl that hit her to her core. She tried angling her head back to look up at him through blurring eyes but he was beginning to unravel from her.

"No… Dammit!" His hands left her skin leaving her feeling cold and helpless but the way Clark flopped onto his side and ended up crawling towards the bed made (Y/n)'s heart ache and want to reach out for him. "Ma! Ma!"

His voice echoed through the room and shook the walls, loud enough that his mum would be able to hear him anywhere in the house and come to their aid. But for what, (Y/n) didn't know.

"Baby, what-" (Y/n) wavered to the right and tried to flop her arm out in Clark's direction. She needed to know what was wrong, what was running through his mind.

She managed to curl her fingers around his wrist, unsure whether she wanted to try and tug him towards her or use him as leverage to inch herself closer to him. But she didn't get chance to do either. She barely tugged on his wrist before Clark roughly flung his hand out at her and shook his arm so violently she recoiled her hand to her chest.

"Don't touch me. Ma!"

His words sent shivers running down (Y/n)'s spine and had a tear trickling down her cheek. What had she done? Why was he being like this all of a sudden? Why was he acting like her touch was going to hurt him? What had changed in the space of a few minutes for him to suddenly scramble away from her so fast like this?

"Clark…" She wasn't sure what she was trying to ask, but the way she whimpered his name made him cower.

He hated it. He hated hearing the torment and agony in (Y/n)'s voice, and he hated that he made her think she had done something wrong. The way she said his name had Clark's heart spasming in his chest and physically ached within him.

He could feel his eyes welling up with tears but he slammed them shut as he flopped his arms onto the bed and used it as leverage to pull himself up. He heaved his broad frame back onto the bed, groaning as he felt like throwing up the same as his wife had done.

When he heard the floorboards creak close behind him, he dropped his head down onto the mattress and held his left arm out behind him. He wafted his hand in (Y/n)'s direction, pointing his finger at her to try and make it clear that he wanted her to stay away from him.

He was glad he wasn't looking at her because the quiet moan she let out in response made his soul shatter.

"Kryptonite, it's poison to me… and the baby." He barely managed to lift his head and glance behind him, focusing his gaze on (Y/n)'s stomach and not her eyes that would break him completely. "It's making you sick, sweetheart p-please, stay away until I'm better."

How could he be so stupid? How could Clark be so dumb and ignorant?

Kryptonite was harmful to him, it was the only thing deadly to him and look what it had done to him today. It wouldn't affect a human, therefore he thought he was fine being around (Y/n). He was too stupid to consider that it might hurt the baby despite them being safe within (Y/n).

Their baby was half of Clark, they had half of his genes and woven into his genes was the affliction with kryptonite. He had passed that down to them, so being around the poison would harm them especially at such a delicate and early stage.

It was making (Y/n) sick, it was harming the baby and as long as (Y/n) stayed around Clark and absorbed the substance, it meant her and the baby were at risk. She had to get out of the room. She had to get away from Clark until he was better, until his body was fully rid of the poison and he wasn't at risk of passing it to their baby.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to move in any direction. She knelt there on the carpet, dumbfounded as she stared at Clark like he had spoken in a foreign language or transformed right before her eyes.

She wouldn't have thought that kryptonite would have affected her like this, she wouldn't think it would have affected her at all. She hadn't been exposed to it, and the baby hadn't had direct contact either. But clearly as it was leaving Clark's system, it was rubbing off on the baby.

And neither of them knew how badly it would affect the baby. Surely with the kryptonite being in Clark's system, whatever (Y/n) was absorbing or surrounded with was only small amounts, little flecks like pollen. After effects. Second-hand contact like this shouldn't be deadly or too frightening, and the baby was only half Krypton, their reaction wouldn't be as severe as Clark's.

But none of that meant that any exposure wasn't harmful and with the baby being small and under-developed so far, it could harm them.

"Oh- what are you two doing?"

Deep breaths raged past Clark's lips as he craned his head to look over his shoulder, locking eyes with his mum who was clinging to the door. Stood in the doorway like she wasn't sure whether she was allowed to enter the room or not.

"Take her downstairs, ma. I'm making the baby sick." Anguish flooded Clark's voice and he let his eyes linger on (Y/n) for a few lasting seconds before he turned away.

He smothered his face into his pillow, doing his best to choke down a groan while his trembling arms encased to his chest.

"Come on honey."

(Y/n) wanted to object. She wanted to shake off her mother in law's touch and try to scramble towards Clark. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him that it was okay, he hadn't done anything wrong. He was sick, he needed to be taken care of, he was the one who had been exposed to something that could easily have killed him.

But she knew if she tried to get close to him, he would shake her off. He would get upset, and it wasn't often that Clark used that harsh tone of voice with her or looked at her with frustration and torment in those burning eyes. Leaving and waiting for him to recover on his own- with the care of his parents of course- was going to be the best and only thing that (Y/n) could do. Despite everything her heart was telling her she had to do.

Reaching out, (Y/n) gripped onto her mother in law and heaved up onto shaking legs. Her head started to spin and pound, feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool as the pair of them left Clark wallowing alone.

By the time they got downstairs, (Y/n) felt like she was going to collapse. The sofa couldn't have been any closer to her and she almost passed out the moment she flopped down and slumped her head against a pillow.

Maybe when she woke up, they would both feel better and this would all be just a dream.

***

It was sunny.

Clark liked it when the sun was shining and he was back home on his parent's farm. Rain was good, storms were worse in case it ruined crops or threatened the animals or made the roads unsafe. But the blistering sunshine was always welcoming. The way it shone on the corn in the fields looked like little golden flecks of the sun had fallen to Earth.

The way the heat soaked into his skin was always heavenly and when there was a slight breeze in the air, Clark felt at home.

Sitting out in the back garden like this made him feel like a child again. He had been a kid with lots of energy and lots of things to do. He would run in the fields, make up his own games, ride his bike all around the farm. And of course he would tend to the animals with his mum and help his dad out in the fields or with the equipment when he was old enough.

But there had been times where he would just sit for ages at a time on the porch swing, just staring out into space like he was solving all the world's problems.

The cup of coffee in his hands was strong and starting to lose its heat. The palms of Clark's hands had long since turned blistering hot from cradling the cup like it was the most precious and tender thing in the world.

His shoulders hunched forward, draped in his dressing gown that always brought back old memories. His head hung forward as he stared down at his coffee rather than out at the fields surrounding his childhood home. His foot was steadily tapping against the porch while he got lost in his mind, suddenly finding it very easy to drown out every other sound that usually bothered him so much.

His head lifted slightly and he squinted in the sunlight to see who was walking out the back door. Clark managed a half smile as he watched his dad trudge over and slump down into the small space left on the porch swing.

Neither of them were exactly thin or slender and it was a bit of a squeeze with them both sitting there. Clark pulled his knees in a little as he had admittedly been sitting and manspreading, but that was just how he would usually sit.

He liked the way their knees bumped together and he felt his dad nudge his elbow like he was testing the waters and finding out whether Clark felt up to talking or not.

"You look better."

It seemed like a comment that should have made Clark smile, especially since his dad was admitting how rough he had looked yesterday when (Y/n) brought him here. But Clark wasn't in the mood for smiling or joking. He might feel better and refreshed and like his body was finally back to normal, but his spirits weren't.

"I still feel rough." He uttered quietly, not bothering to look up at his dad as he kept his eyes on his cup.

He finally raised his cup to his lips and downed it all in one go. The lukewarm beverage made him grimace and give a little cough when he was finished, but he knew he needed the fluids and probably the caffeine too.

He shuffled forward so he could place the cup down by his feet which caused the swing to creak so Clark shuffled back again. The last thing he wanted was to break the old swing and cause yet more havoc for his parents.

With a sigh, he began to glide his hands up and down his thighs where his shorts were scrunched up and still slightly damp with sweat. He had been burning up and sweating all night until he finally felt recovered this morning. A crack echoed through the air as he turned his head from left to right, clicking his neck into place before he finally looked at his dad.

The older man looked perplexed, like he wanted to say something but didn't quite have the words or the knowledge to do so. It took him a moment to run his hand along the back of his neck before he could muster something close to a smile in his son's direction.

"(Y/n) wants to see you, she said you wouldn't let her in the room." It wasn't just what (Y/n) had said, both parents had seen and heard Clark lock the door and tell them all to stay away.

He let his mum into the room in the early hours when she checked on him, and he was glad for the company and comfort she gave. And he accepted the breakfast she made him, because Clark was like a machine that always needed fuel and he had been ravenous this morning.

But he didn't let (Y/n) in the room.

He wouldn't have her around him until he knew for sure that the kryptonite was fully out of his system and he wasn't going to make her ill. He couldn't risk anything happening to the baby because of him.

Since (Y/n) got pregnant, Clark was constantly worrying about every possibility that could go wrong with the baby. He worried that there would be anomalies because of his genes or problems with doctors appointments or their health. He worried they wouldn't cope like him with the exceptional hearing and sights that they might inherit from him. He worried about people finding out their baby was half Krypton, that Superman had a child and it would put a target on their back.

Kryptonite poisoning hadn't been something Clark had even considered up until now. And he certainly didn't imagine that he could make their baby ill or make (Y/n) ill like he had. All Clark wanted was to keep them both safe.

Clark bowed his head down with a sigh. "I- I made her sick, pa. I don't wanna hurt her or the baby, I have to stay clear until this stuff's out my system."

He leant to the right when his dad looped an arm around his back and reeled him in for a sideways hug. The touch was comforting and Clark went as far as to rest his head on his dad's shoulder. But he wasn't expecting the words that he got next.

"I think you're alright now, Clark. She was just a bit sick, you didn't hurt either of them but you are now by pulling away. Stop hiding and go talk to her."

He felt the urge to respond, to say that he wasn't hiding or sulking or pulling away from (Y/n), but deep down he knew that he was. He was avoiding her because he was afraid of hurting her, despite knowing that he was back to his normal sense of health now.

Hugging and being in close proximity to Clark was what made (Y/n) ill, because of him she had been ill and their baby had been threatened. Staying away seemed safer for now and it calmed the paranoid thoughts in the back of Clark's mind.

His lips quirked into a sad smile when he felt his dad kissing his temple before he patted his back and gave him a nudge, clearly trying to usher him inside.

And Clark took the hint. He heaved up to his feet, feeling a lot better now than he did yesterday. It didn't feel like his legs were going to snap when he stood up, and he could walk without wobbling or leaning on someone for support.

His fingers attached to his toussled curls that he hadn't bothered trying to brush yet. He pulled and tugged at them, clearing them from his eyes while he heaved his heavy, tired frame through the back door into the kitchen. It was a surprise not to see his mum stood there making a drink or frying something on the stove and Clark bypassed the empty room. Ignoring the news on the small kitchen tv that was giving a weather report he really couldn't care less about.

It was both a relief and a slight worry to find (Y/n) sat on her own in the living room.

Clark didn't know what to say to her. He needed to apologise, he knew that, and he needed to check that she was alright. His mum kept giving him updates every time she checked on him or came to sit with him. She told him (Y/n) was sleeping or that she looked drowsy but hadn't been sick anymore. And this morning she told him (Y/n) felt and looked a lot better and had managed some breakfast.

So he knew she was recovered too, but that didn't make Clark feel all that better when he knew he was the reason she had been ill in the first place.

His hands itched at his sides, fingers curling into his palms where his nails were close to cutting through the skin with the deep pressure he applied.

He was about to try and clear the air, to announce his presence and apologise but he didn't get the chance. As soon as (Y/n) felt his eyes burning into the back of her frame, she was hurrying up from the sofa without a word.

And the radiant smile on her face took Clark by surprise. He found himself enamoured and focused on that smile to the point that he didn't realise (Y/n) was reaching him until she was stood in front of him. Their feet were touching, her abdomen was pressing into his and her arms bound around his broad, reeling him into a hug that made him melt against her.

He felt the way she sighed into his chest, like she had been out wandering all night and finally come home. He was home.

Her hands clutched at his back and (Y/n) felt her blood boiling up and fizzling in her veins when Clark's dressing gown wafted and enveloped around her sides and shoulders. Almost as if he was cocooning her against him, hiding them both away from the rest of the world.

Shivers rolled through Clark's system when he felt (Y/n) peppering kisses against his chest through his shirt.

"Do you feel better?"

He almost didn't hear her, but he could feel his heart vibrating with each word. It was supposed to be the other way around. Clark was supposed to be checking on her, making sure she was alright.

He dropped his head down until his lips and nose meshed into her hair and his eyes closed automatically like he was finally safe and sound.

"I should be asking you that. Are you both okay?" In a moment of bravery, Clark slid his left hand down between them so he could cup the side of her stomach. And he realised that she was wearing his pyjama shirt and bottoms. His mum must have gotten them from his room sometime last night while he had been in and out of sleep.

His thumb began to stroke along her side while he held his breath and tried to focus his senses and zone in on the baby's heartbeat. There were no palpitations, no increases or sudden drops, just a steady rhythm that Clark was so used to listening to so he could lull himself to sleep.

And being in close proximity to Clark wasn't making the baby's heartbeat increase or sending them twisting and summersaulting into a frenzy like it had last night.

A quiet hum of amazement left Clark's lips when he felt a kick near his palm, almost as if the baby was giving him an answer to his question.

"We're fine, babe." (Y/n)'s words were smothered by his shirt, but she knew he heard him. And even if he didn't, their heartbeats would be enough to tell Clark that they were okay. Everyone was back to normal.

(Y/n) soaked up the kisses Clark pressed against her temple and the way his nose nudged against her hairline. She could feel his hand slithering beneath her shirt so he could trace designs and little nothings against her bare skin and the touch made her squirm and smile into his chest. While his other arm was safely draped around the back of her shoulders, caging her against him like he was afraid she might try and break away from him.

"I'm sorry."

His words made (Y/n) purse her lips and she shook her head before she turned to press her cheek against his chest. "Baby you don't have to be sorry."

It wasn't like Clark had done anything wrong. They didn't have a row, he hadn't upset (Y/n) or intentionally hurt her or the baby, nothing was his fault and (Y/n) didn't want him to apologise or feel like he was at fault. He had been ill and she wanted to take care of him. Besides, they were both better now.

They began to sway from side to side and (Y/n) closed her eyes, basking in the moment and the feeling of being wrapped up safe and warm in Clark's arms, enveloped in his dressing gown like it was his cape safely shrouding them.

"I just… I want you both safe. I don't want you in danger or ill because of me."

Clark hated the thought of something happening to (Y/n) or the baby because of him, because he didn't think it through or control the situation. He wouldn't let it happen again. They were his family, they were his world and if he couldn't protect them, then who was he?

They were his everything.

[winkofcharm]

Spinning, Spinning, Spun - Chapter 2

I wanted more for this chapter, but apparently I'm travelling this weekend so it's all I could do.

batfamily x reader {platonic}

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Alfred thinks he may rival any of The Flashes in how quickly he moves. Any aching joints or stiff knees that may slow him down are forgotten in his hurry. He does not call Stephanie back to inform her, throwing all his attention into getting into the Batcave as soon as he can.  There is no time to waste, for if Stephanie is right - you haven’t been heard from in at least a week, a week too long. If the laughter at the end of your voicemail is real, then you’re not just missing, you’ve been taken.

‘It’s all too familiar’, Alfred thinks, punching in the access code before stepping into the elevator. ‘It’s happened again, another child - gone’. The past replays in his mind, over and over again. Jason, gone, dead, killed by the same grotesque creature that now holds you. 

Alfred is forced to wipe his eyes, clear away his forming tears, so that the retina scanner works. And as soon as he is able, the emergency alert goes out. He knows it will wake Bruce and Tim, and he knows it may take a few minutes for Dick and Barbara to join virtually - but sure enough, his family fills the cave. 

Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler are all gathered within a half hour. Nightwing’s and Oracle’s faces each on a monitor. Spoiler, Stephanie, is pale, her face twisted into a look of guilt, eyes staring into Alfred’s as he begins to speak. 

The words are slow to form, and choke him as he forces them out-

“I was made aware not long ago that,” Alfred pauses, not purposely, but long enough to give a shuddering sigh, “The young master has -” His eyes settle on Stephanie, who has yet to divert her eyes from him. It is a slight movement, but her head is shaking, back and forth, a silent prayer for him to not finish. “Has been taken.” He finishes. 

Stephanie shrinks into herself, it was not the answer she wanted, but the one she received nonetheless. Alfred shuts his eyes, refuses to look upon the others as he provides more information, the only information he had. He forces the words out, as if speaking them is carving them into stone. He knows he will have to say them, no matter how little he wishes to. He will have to open his eyes, and bear witness to a world in which you most certainly have been harmed. 

He tells them all he knows.

He tells them how Stephanie had noticed your lack of online presence, how she had reached out to him, and he had tried to contact you, and how your voicemail had been…altered. How the laugh at the end could belong to only one person. He finishes, and silence takes over. The only sound he hears is his own heart pounding in his ears - waiting for someone, anyone, to tell him that he was wrong. That you were in fact safe and sound, that you were upstairs in your room, wrapped tightly in blankets and securely asleep. 

Barbara is the first to speak, her voice coming from the speakers, bouncing around the cave with a slight echo. 

“They failed to check in with me today, but they did yesterday. It’s unlikely they’ve been gone that long - “ she explains, Alfred can hear the tap-tap-tap of her keyboard through the surround sound system. She remotely takes control of the computer, various screenshots of conversations popping up as she does. The very latest is dated yesterday, 5:15pm for its final message. 

The picture above your final message (‘Your last words’ Alfred thinks) is cut off, but he catches the end of a runway, and the top of your seated legs.

K. 

That’s it. 

5:15pm: K.

“According to their schedule, they should be in Milan for fashion week - huh. Strange -” Barbara stops mid-sentence. Her brow furrowing as she types rapidly, “But the jet’s in New York, and has been for-” she cuts herself off again. Typing getting faster, a frown overtaking her expression. “Three weeks - what? They’ve been sending pictures from all over the place?” 

Stephanie’s eyes widen, and she steps forward. 

“That picture is from last year,” She pulls out her phone and pulls up profile, scrolling back through a years worth of content, “See! It’s the same one!” She claims. She sends it wirelessly to the computer, and it pops up squished between Babara and Dick’s faces. 

Even from what little he could see of your messages from Barbara, he can tell it’s the truth. The lights are the same, the runway and laying in your lap are identical, down to the tiniest of stains on the knee of your pants. 

Barbara proceeds to pull up more and more of the pictures you have supposedly sent her these last few days, and sure enough - each one is a duplicate to an earlier post. Panic and fear bubble in Stephanie’s chest as she confirms each one, and Alfred watches as the rest of his family begin to realize - 

You were gone.

Someone had your phone.

That someone had been pretending to be you.

If the laugh at the end of your voicemail was any indication - 

Joker had you, had had you for a week, at least. 

And no one had noticed. 

It’s only when Bruce steps forward, that Barbara and Stephanie fall silent, and back into line. His eyes are steel, cold and hard,  flickering over all the presented information. 

“Nightwing, come back to Gotham, you and I will focus on the Red Hood case. Spoiler and Robin, I need you to investigate the Jet, check it over, see if anything is out of place,” He pauses, deep in thought before continuing, “Oracle, track their digital movements. Phone records, previous posts - everything. Red Robin, Batgirl, try and see if they have any enemies. Anyone who may have wanted them hurt, or wanted to hurt the Wayne family.” 

Bruce stops, and looks over his team, his family, as he gives his instruction. Splitting their attention at a time like this, with a new violent vigilante on the loose in his city, wasn’t ideal. He would make it work - he had to. Red Hood was targeting the Robins, Red Robin in particular, this gave him both an excuse to get Tim off the Red Hood case, and onto your disappearance. He hopes they aren’t connected, and hopes he can keep the rest of them from realizing they might be. 

It would be easier for him to take Red Hood on with Dick alone; and if it means letting the rest think Joker - who is still firmly locked in Arkham - took you, then so be it. 

Bruce dismisses his team, his family, his children, and watches them all flit off into the night. Oracle signs off with a flourish, but Dick remains behind - the computer automatically adjusts so that his face, and his face alone takes up the entire monitor. Bruce is turned away from the monitor, and despite the distance between them, he can feel his son's eyes burn into his back. He knows that Dick is frowning, knows what he will say when he turns to face him. He lets out a sigh, there is no preventing what is to come, his shoulders fall slack, and he finally turns to face what he knows is coming - as if he is the son to be scolded by his father. 

Dick is angry, is disappointed, and frustrated. He may not have been as close to you as he could have been, but you were still part of his family. He was once told that keeping you at arms length meant keeping you safe, but he learned long ago that was a lie. 

He was already Nightwing by the time he had met you, but he had known of you for far longer. He learned of you from bits and pieces, crumbs dropped by those who barely let a thing slide. Written reports on a desk that he was technically forbidden from reading, early morning phone calls between Alfred and some secret stranger - everything pointed to a secret, and Dick was really, really good at figuring out people's secrets.

He discovered you, and then, to his regret, left you alone. He was gone by the time you finally came home, and with Jason arriving nearly the same day to replace him - his attention was diverted to the most pressing matter. He did visit occasionally, and met you through those visits. 

You didn’t know about the Batman thing, and he was fine keeping that from you. He also didn’t think he had to make sure Jason knew about keeping the Batman thing secret from you, but maybe he should have. There was such a clear divide between you pre-knowing, and post-knowing. 

Dick can’t help but think that if he had tried just a bit more, things may have been different. He appreciates all that you do, really he does - it’s just, he doesn’t know you the way he knows everyone else. Doesn’t know what makes you happy or sad, doesn’t know your favourite foods, favourite colours, or even who your friends are ( do you even have any, outside of those you work with?). Now it may be too late, he thinks. If Joker has you, and you’ve really been gone for as long as they think - it’s Jason all over again. He wonders if he’ll see you too, in the dark corners of his mind. If an apparition of you, molded by his own mind, will taunt his failures as Jason’s ghost does. 

It’s not even the first time you’ve been kidnapped. They all have, at some point or another, but they all had training to get themselves out. You hadn’t, and yes, most of the time it was some low ranking organization or crook looking for a quick buck, thinking you an easy target (and you were an easy target), it didn’t change the fact that it’d happened. 

Didn’t change the fact that after the first time, Dick had promised he’d spend more time with you (and then didn’t). Then it happened again, and this time you weren’t even rescued by a family member, by a familiar face. Maybe it was one of the Supers? Or maybe a Flash? You were brought home by a Green Lantern once (twice). Each time he’d promise himself, he’d treat you better, each time he promised you’d be safer and it wouldn’t happen again - and then it did. 

It ate at him, how you’d shrug off each incident without a word. Perhaps, he thinks, he convinced himself that it didn’t affect you, that even if you were snatched up, you’d be saved in the end, so the fact that it happened didn’t matter. But it did matter, it did. He swears it did, and staring down at your shared Father, who had swore time and time again that you’d be kept safe (and being proven wrong, time and time again) it sinks in that this may be the last time.  That those promises he made to himself were never going to be kept, that he was a liar, that for all his bravado about being the best big brother , he was possibly one of the worst. 

“Bruce,” he forces out, words dancing on the tip of his tongue, “You said this wouldn’t happen again.” 

‘This’ being either you being kidnapped again, or having another of his siblings taken away by the clown prince of crime. He isn’t sure which one he means, or maybe he means both - and judging from the look on Bruce’s face, he takes it as both. 

“It hasn’t, “ Bruce starts, and Dick thinks he may have finally lost it. You definitely were taken again, and a good chance it was - “He’s still locked up.” 

What?

“Joker’s still in Arkham, the others will figure that out soon enough,” He continues, and Dick stares open-mouthed at him. If Joker is still in Arkham, then who? Who has you? Harley? Is it an attempt to bust Joker out? To continue his work while he cannot? Dick can’t help but wonder what is worse, thinking Joker or Harley may have you, or not knowing who does. He runs over all the possibilities in his mind, for surely this must be one of their known enemies. Someone who wants to target them, because there was never a reason to target you specifically. 

But there’s a new player on the board, isn’t there? One that’s started cropping up everywhere they look. 

“Bruce, you don’t think it’s him do you?” Dick waits for an answer, and all he gets is the slightest nod of Bruce’s head. “I see. I’ll be back in Gotham by the morning, and then, we’re tracking Red Hood down.” With that, Dick dismisses himself, logging off and finally Bruce is alone. 

He is not a good father. He knows this. He has never pretended otherwise, despite what some may say. They may say he did his best, he did all that he could. They praise him for the way his children have turned out, the ones that survived, as if he is the reason they did so. He knows he is not, especially not when it comes to you. 

There is nothing he has done right for you, not once, except perhaps try to set you free from the darkness. But even that, he thinks, he has done wrong. To let you grow in the sun, he severed your roots. Refused to let them take hold, that someday you might leave him, and his shadows behind, and start anew. Yet he sought to tie you to him, that you might never find that sun, may see it, but never feel its warmth for yourself. 

He is a selfish man, who drags those around him down, he poisons the well from which you drink long before you could find another. In wanting to keep you close, he has driven you away. In wanting to drive you away, he may have killed you. 

You are his first born, one that he did not want, but was no less dear to him. He has never shown you this, never let you know, and now that may be another great failure atop the pile of other great failures. 

He was not there when you were born, didn’t even know you were to be, but when the hospital called, he felt his heart swell. A family, a father in a way that Dick didn’t really need him to be. He didn’t rush, couldn’t rush. It wouldn’t be the first time he was declared the father of an illegitimate child. He pushed for tests, just in case, and when they came back and you were his, he felt himself hope. 

Hope is a fickle mistress, and he found it lacking soon after. He had you placed in his childhood room, the nursery, the one in which all Wayne children had resided in at some point or another. He thought he could keep up with raising a child and being The Batman. He was young, he was capable, he was, he was doing so very very wrong by you.

A baby was different from a preteen, he soon learned. Dick was easy, because for the most part, he could care for himself. He did not need someone to watch him at all hours, didn’t need nappies changed and bottles warmed. It was not care he nor Alfred could give. 

He did what he thought was best, and though it haunted him, he sent you away, and promised he would bring you back when you were older, when it would be better, easier. 

A better time, an easier time, never came. Something always came up, always held him back on bringing you home. He didn’t think that time would ever come, doesn’t know if it truly had. But you came home, the woman he had personally hired to raise you was retiring, and he figured it was the only chance he had to bring you in. 

The date slipped his mind, and on the day you came home, he found Jason. Instead of greeting you, welcoming you, embracing you, he opened his arms to another, letting you slip into the manor like a phantom. 

You were finally home and despite all that you may have needed - Jason needed more. He passed you in the hallways, sometimes at meals, never really stopping to connect with you the way he should have. He learned of you indirectly, through Jason. 

How glad he was, that you held no animosity towards the boy he had taken in. You never gave any inclination towards the idea he may have stolen your place, even if Jason sometimes thought he had. The boy was sensitive, empathetic to a degree Bruce hadn’t known before. And Bruce, for the moment, encouraged it.

Until you found out about Batman. 

He had done what he could to keep you separate. To keep your life and light safe from the dark and dirt that encompassed all he did. It was Jason’s mistake, and Jason would be punished accordingly. But that left you - sitting alone in the study, eyes cast aside until he began to speak and you looked up and oh- 

Your eyes. 

His mothers eyes. 

He had never looked you in the eyes before, never noticed, how could he not notice? You had her eyes. Your eyes, looking upon him in fear, reminding him so clearly of his mothers eyes on that night.  His mothers eyes, frightened of him. 

He panicked. Lashed out, locked you out of the loop and threw away the key. If it meant you hated him, feared him, so be it. He would keep you safe, he would do all he could to keep those eyes in his life. 

And then he failed. Again. He thought by letting you go into the world slowly, he could at least try to keep you safe and content. 

Again, and again, and again, and again. He watched you suffer as he failed you. Then when you finally seem to be escaping his failure, leaving behind all his mistakes, he refuses to let you go. Forces you to play pretend, to put a metaphorical mask on and lie to the world about how perfect he is -

Sometimes he lets himself believe it, lets himself get lost in the fairy tale, that you are a happy child and he is a good father, that he has never abandoned you, that you and he are a team, taking on the world together. He pretends that he has never missed a ceremony or award, that ‘family night’ includes you, that he doesn’t see only your back walking away from him, that he has never walked away from you. 

‘This is the last time,’ Bruce thinks, going back over all your accounts, comparing the recent ones to the timeline of Red Hood showing up in Gotham. ‘After this, I will let them go.’ 

He knows this is another lie, and chooses to believe it anyway. 

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

Next chapter - Red Hood vs Batman,

and finally, a check in with Reader-tan

@holybatflapexpert @electricgg @xoyumiqls @holderoflostmemories @sleeptimes @galaxypurplerose @sassam @pearlyribbons @bellelamoon @fortunatelydifferentqueen

@randomlyappearingartist @c4xcocoa @whyiseveryuseenametaken @myjumper

@magdalenacarmila @noone1233nobody @bbmgirll @degenerates-posts@rinkydinkythinky @ithoughtthinks @rtyuy1346  @s1mppp @yokesmam

man i'm hopin these tags work

[yourcupbearer]

‧₊ 𐔌 Transplural Tips & Ideas <3 ˚｡⋆୨୧

You heard me, I'm gonna do what nobody's done before... and by that I mean plenty of people have done it before. But that's besides the point! <3 This post is a buuunch of tips about furthering your progression into plurality from start to finish, from a cisplural + cisDID! These are all just ideas though, and none of it is mandatory; you're still just as plural even if you don't do any of these things! <33

Note that this is a very, VERY long read, framed to help you further understand and form your system. It can also be used by cisplurals / severity-plurals! This post includes: general tips to encourage progress, how to recognize and help alters form, inspiration for fleshing out fragments, tips for creating your headspace, and more!

I. General Tips!

⊹˖ ⤑ Affirmations, affirmations, affirmations. It might not seem like it, but your mind can do a lot of things just with the power of suggestion, and the language you use affects you deeply!! No saying things like "I want to be a system" -- be more specific; "I want my headspace to be more fleshed out", "I want my sysmates to be more distinct", etc. This not only helps you get clear goals set that you can actually work towards, but it also helps to convince your brain that you're a system.

⊹˖ ⤑ Avoid negative language and fakeclaiming. Similarly to the above, you need to use affirmations that help convince your brain. Negative language tells your brain those negative thoughts; I go into a little detail about this more here, but essentially, don't use negative language when discussing your transition! Even if you're feeling like your transition is going too slowly, using sarcasm with positive language will still trick your brain that you're being positive. Think of every time you fakeclaim yourself or call yourself a singlet or whatnot as five steps back; in order to make up for doing it once, you have to do a whole lot more of affirming to make up for it! This is to say that it isn't impossible to transition if you're very negative, but you will see more progress faster if you try to avoid it.

⊹˖ ⤑ Find a plural community to help affirm you. There are plenty of discord servers and tumblr communities centered around plurality. Find one and introduce yourself as a system -- not a "questioning system", not a "transitioning system", but as a system. This will help you affirm your identity more, as people will see and treat you as a system, and you can still ask for tips regarding helping your system form!

⊹˖ ⤑ Do research into different forms of plurality, how they manifest, and how they form! Do research into various -genic types, and see which one feels right to you. And if multiple feel right, you can always have multiple, or have different ones for different alters! You can find plenty of resources into helping you understand and mimic various ways of system creation if you know what to search for; try looking into endogenic systems, western tulpamancy, median systems, and seeing what you think might work for you! However remember that your system is your own -- It’s okay if you don’t have clear switches, distinct voices, or a headspace that’s easy to visualize. Many systems are subtle, blurry, or co-conscious, and none of that makes you any less of a system!!

II. Headmate Formation!

⊹˖ ⤑ When you first start off, it might be easier to notice different alters based on when your headspace changes (your actual mood and behavior -- not the inner world!). Don't force them, but notice them. Start by paying attention: any thoughts that might seem out of the blue, sudden shifts in your emotion, any habits that feel unfamiliar... Try to ask yourself if this is you or someone else! This is true for all systems, not just transplurals; I do this a lot when fronting to check if I'm alone in front.

⊹˖ ⤑ Give these changes names! It doesn't have to be a permanent name, but recognize them as a different person (or at least a different facet of you, if you believe in the "parts of a whole" formation). Over time, try to flesh them out; triggers can be things that put you into that mindset, interests can be things that you often engage with during that mindset, things like that! These are fragments, but they can form into full alters over time.

⊹˖ ⤑ When you recognize that this is happening, log it! Personally I use SimplyPlural ("SP"), but you can also use Octo-con (although SP is far more common, octo is mostly used by antis). You can also track this in any notes apps, journals, etc, communicate with alters, keep track of alters, organize alters, and more! Both are compatible with the discord app PluralKit ("PK") too. Some systems use Tupperbox, but I prefer PluralKit personally since it can easily be synced with SimplyPlural. You can use SimplyPlural on both mobile and desktop! I'll also be making a different post full of my SimplyPlural organization for those who want to get extra fancy with it, however this is just up to personal preference

⊹˖ ⤑ Try to communicate with your sysmate. At first you might need to put on a "mask" of sorts to do so, to try to give them a voice, but over time this will come easier as they settle in and find their own identity. You can do this also by letting them communicate with others; let them sign off on posts or messages they send with a specific "proxy" (either their name or an emoji), let them create a separate sideblog on Tumblr, let them use their own PluralKit or Tupper bot -- all of these are fantastic ways to help find what makes them them!

III. Fleshing out Fragments!

⊹˖ ⤑ The next step, once you've started to recognize fragments / facets, is to look into different types of alters. There are some common alter types that pop up frequently (please note that most of these descriptions are based in what they do for your system, but this may not be true of all alters of these types; along with this, there are plenty more not listed):

A) "Littles", which are children, usually needing cared for. These alters usually have the job of holding feelings of childhood, be it good or bad, and seeking out care and attention. Some systems have many of these; some have very few, if any at all.

B) Nonhumans, which can be animals or monsters. They usually hold feelings of being dehumanized, be it by reclaiming it or holding those negative feelings associated with it.

C) Religious alters are very common as well, be it an introject with a religious source, or an alter who believes they are a deity, angel, priest, demon, etc. These usually form to either help guide the system with religious endeavors, hold opinions and trauma about religion, or express some other facet caused by religion.

D) Introjects, which you've probably heard of if you're reading this. They can be from fictional media, internet personalities, friends, family, history, or anything else you can possibly think of. These are incredibly common, and often overlap with the above types, too! It is common for systems to have multiple introjects with the same source or source character, and it is also common for alters to form with the appearance of a character or person without actually being associated with their source.

⊹˖ ⤑ Some roles are more common in systems than others; the most basic are protectors, persecutors, gatekeepers, hosts, and littles. You can find a whole host of potential roles for alters on Pluralpedia, if you're looking for inspiration. There's a lot here; if you're trying to see if a term has already been made, then you can also join the Pluralpedia Discord Server, which has channels exclusively dedicated towards helping you find the system terms you're looking for!

⊹˖ ⤑ So, more on introjects -- the most common types are those which are sourced from a fictional character, content creator, or someone you know. But that's not actually all! Introjects can be sourced from ANYTHING that you get inspiration from. Locations, mythology, colors, songs, artwork -- anything you can think of! If you want specific words for every kind of introject, Pluralpedia has you covered for that, too; however the most common ones that I see are "fictive" (from a fictional media), "factive" (from a factional source), "godtive" (an introject of a god, also sometimes just labelled as an introject), and "songtive" (an introject from a song). Alters can also have multiple sources, so go absolutely ham!

⊹˖ ⤑ You need more inspiration for fleshing out alters? Go to Pinterest and look for artwork or characters that you like, and use those as inspiration and faceclaims for your sysmates. What shows or games do you like? Make your favorite characters that you relate to. You have OCs? Make them! I would also highly recommend searching through "Build-A-Headmate" (BAH) blogs, and seeing what fits your fragments! Picrew, Gacha, or other avatar apps can also be a great way to visualize your sysmates.

⊹˖ ⤑ Let your sysmates do things without your opinions or preferences seeping in as much as possible. This might be a sideblog full of only things they like, or maybe a Pinterest board exclusively for them, or their own playlist! A little can go a long way.

⊹˖ ⤑ Filling out their SP profiles, if you did that, can also help differentiate them as individuals! You can search for SimplyPlural templates for custom fields and folders, go to the SimplyPlural discord and view what people have shared in it, look at "OC templates" or "About Me" templates and see what people add to theirs, or anything else for inspiration! Like I said above, I'll be making my own post or doc of how I organize mine for those who want it.

IV. Headspace Creation!

⊹˖ ⤑ This one is a bit tricky, because it takes a lot of work. When you're first starting out, it might be best to make your headspace a place you know very well; maybe that's your house, your home base in a video game, or a fictional world that you have memorized very well. This can be changed and edited later, but it will help with visualizing it while you're getting started! Alternatively, it can be a small space that is incredibly simple; the important part is that you can try to imagine this space. I would highly recommend doing some form of mindfulness and meditation practices, as these will help you focus more and clear your head!

⊹˖ ⤑ Once you have that down, and you can easily and quickly imagine this space, you can start "editing" it. Don't rush this! While it may be very easy for some, it can take a long time for others, and rushing it will make you feel disheartened if it goes wrong. It's better to underestimate your abilities in this regard than to overestimate yourself! Try to add small details. For example, if your headspace is your house, try to imagine an object that you don't own in real life, and add it within your headspace. An example might be a lamp, a rug, or a stuffed animal; start small and simple. The next time you visualize or enter your headspace, see if that item is there. Try your best to visualize it as being there, until it becomes permanent.

⊹˖ ⤑ Once you can easily make edits such as this, you can start expanding the areas inside your headspace and make more major changes. This is where the fun part comes in! Your headspace can be anything you want, as long as you ease yourself into it. You can start the planning stage whenever you want, as long as you don't try to rush yourself with the process of fulfilling those plans.

V. Planning and Visualizing your Headspace!

⊹˖ ⤑ Okay, not that snappy of a title, but this is the fun part. Planning your headspace! I think Mindly is a great app for this if you're in the beginning aspects of planning -- finding out what areas you need, before actually linking them together or fleshing them out. Consider it a skeleton of sorts! You can also do this with common note-taking apps like Milanote or Obsidian too. Regular notes with a sort of "checklist" can be helpful, too.

⊹˖ ⤑ So, what areas does your headspace "need"? This is obviously up to you, but the basics include a "front room", individual houses or rooms for each alter, and a general lounging area. From here, you can go anywhere! A hotel, a campsite, a liminal space, a fantasy world, a college campus, a suburb -- all of it is entirely up to your system, and can be personalized (and changed)!

⊹˖ ⤑ Now that you know what areas you're trying to create, you can start visualizing it properly (or if you're not very fond of rough drafts, you can just skip to this step too, lol). The most common ways to make your headspace are with image dumps such as Pinterest boards, which are easily sorted and can have notes attached, or with proper building games, such as Animal Crossing, the Sims, Minecraft, etcetera depending on what kind of headspace you are looking for. Really, any worldbuilding simulator can work, so go crazy! If you're looking for fantasy maps, I can recommend Inkarnate; and if you can't find anything, you can always make a map from scratch on paper or with a drawing app.

VI. Other Useful Tips and Links!

⊹˖ ⤑ Transtrauma tips by @.neelacstraw

⊹˖ ⤑ Headspace / Wonderland tips by @.sophieinwonderland

⊹˖ ⤑ Transplural/DID/OSDD/etc Subs (Youtube)

[felassan]

Original post:

amirdrassil: "datamined veilguard character descriptions google doc is now complete. i've even organised all the characters into their respective factions and added a clickable table of contents!! yippee!!! [link]" [source]

Please note that this work and document resource was put together by amirdrassil on Twitter! they kindly gave me permission to cross-post it here. 🙏

DA:TV spoilers and long post under cut.

VEILGUARD DATAMINED CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS These are all taken directly from the game files; wherever a character had interesting additional information such as accent, age range, or appearance, I’ve also included it.

GODS & SPIRITS

RETURNING CHARACTERS

COMPANIONS

CROWS

VEIL JUMPERS

WARDENS

SHADOW DRAGONS

LORDS OF FORTUNE

MOURN WATCH

KAL-SHAROK

MISCELLANEOUS

UPDATE (19/11/24): Added Teia, Viago, Anaris, Aelia, Hezenkoss and Rana.  (Thank you to @/ZILVYR on Twitter for finding these ones!) I did my best to look through the files as thoroughly as I could, but if you find any more I missed, feel free to DM me on Twitter (@amirdrassil) and I’ll add them with thanks. :-)

I’m adding a disclaimer here, because I’ve seen a lot of people treat these datamined descriptions as absolute canon. Many of them are remnants of scrapped or altered storylines, meaning that they no longer align with the finalised story that the game presents.  Please take everything you read here with a grain of salt, and where the game’s content itself directly contradicts the datamining, the former should always take precedent over the latter. At least as far as “canon” goes! And of course, it goes without saying, but please don’t use any of this datamining as an excuse to be mean to anyone; please understand that game development is a lot of hard work, and storylines are scrapped all the time as writers get new ideas or are faced with inevitable roadblocks from the game system side of things! No matter what, Veilguard was made with love. Anyways, feel free to use any of this as fuel for fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, or just healthy discussions about what the game might’ve been.  Thank you very much, sorry for rambling and please enjoy!! :-)

GODS & SPIRITS

SOLAS AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Solas, from the previous game. (Some characters also have a TTS voice assigned to them, and Solas’s is “PeterSad22k_HQ”, which makes me laugh/cry, as no other major character so far has had their TTS voice specified as being the “sad” variant.) ELGAR’NAN AGERANGE: 99 ACCENT: British Isles; an ancient contemporary of Solas. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Ancient elven god-king. Blighted. GHILN’NAIN AGERANGE: 35 ACCENT: British Isles; an ancient contemporary of Solas CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Ghilan'nain is our sinister Mad Scientist god. Analytical and curious, she uses magic to mutate people into powerful but disturbing forms. She often lists things in a clipped fashion, cataloguing as she sees. She's obsessed with experimenting on all kinds of living beings, viewing everyone (except her fellow god, Elgar'nan) as potential "stock". She's pitiless about her work—Ghilan'nain will happily slice open a hundred people for parts—but is not purposefully sadistic. It's nothing personal. She can be angered, however, by people interfering in her plans. When she is, rage runs cold. Some backstory: Ghilan'nain is an ancient, now corrupted, elven god. She rose to power thousands of years ago by creating living wonders, and had the distinction of being the only mortal elf uplifted into the pantheon. She embraced the corrupting power of a force called the blight in order to improve her magic, and has been unalterably twisted by it over the centuries. BETRAYAL OF FELASSAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, Solas's murder of his friend Felassan by stabbing him in the back).

FALL OF THE PROTECTOR CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, the death of Mythal). SLAUGHTER OF THE PILLARS CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A powerful undead born from Solas's regrets and betrayals (in this case, the murder of the Titans). SPIRIT OF PROFIT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Spirit of Profit who has set up shop in the Crossroads. They are friendly, but very single-minded and tend to speak in one or two word sentences, mostly about profits. SPEECHPATTERN: Simple, clear expressions of intent. This merchant is a spirit with a singular mind (i just thought this one was neat!) GENERAL FELASSAN AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The second in command of a resistance army. You've an elf who's fought against the tyranny of your gods, cruel despots who've enslaved your people. You're practical, level-headed, and have good sense for what other people are feeling, which makes you well-suited for your role. Your leader is an elf called Solas, a powerful mage who isn't quite the people person you are. You respect him, and are there to help him with whatever he needs - especially when he needs guidance about being the face of a resistance. THE CARETAKER SPEECHPATTERN: Simple, mysterious, with a sense of vast wisdom and power ARCHETYPE: Angel / otherworldly helper who gives the player what they truly need, not necessarily what they think they want. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A mysterious masked and cloaked spirit. They are patient, otherworldly, and helpful... in their own way. The Caretaker is the guardian of the Lighthouse, a magical shelter. Unknown to the player, the Caretaker is what remains of a truly ancient dragon, who long ago took on the form of this spirit. Underlying their patient and otherworldly nature is a sense of strength. The Caretaker was summoned centuries ago by ancient elves, the original builders of this place. Now it has new inhabitants: the player and their friends. You're guiding them through the mysteries of the Lighthouse, but do not give any straight answers. It's important to you they bridge the gap themselves. NOTE: The Caretaker is referred to as they/them because they're a supernatural entity (as opposed to the more normal human non-binary characters in the game.) We'd like a feminine voice to differentiate them from some of the other spooky/mysterious spirits in the game who sound masculine (e.g. Vorgoth.)

SPIRIT OF CHAOS CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit of chaos and freedom, unleashed by Solas to break through a labyrinth to his ally Mythal. SPIRIT OF NEED CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit heavily implied to be the Caretaker in another era, speaking with Solas about the attempt to rescue Mythal. Speaking with the spirit, Solas makes it clear that he will sacrifice anything to save Mythal. ANARIS AGERANGE: 35 (no other info except what’s in cyrian’s description) XENON THE ANTIQUARIAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A nobleman who made a deal for immortality which did not include eternal youth, Xenon is the master of the Black Emporium, a shop selling curiosities from his personal collection of magical items.

RETURNING CHARACTERS

THE INQUISITOR AGERANGE: 30 APPEARANCE: Inquisition uniform under a long cloak with hood. ARCHETYPE: Relatable leader and mentor CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Inquisitor, the protagonist from DA:I. Confident, knowing, they are still the head of a powerful organization, but now act in a mentor role. They would bring too much attention if they get personally involved, so they are looking for the right people to act for them. CHARTER AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A returning character from DA:I, Charter serves as Rook's link to/mouthpiece of the Inquisitor and what's left of the Inquisition. VARRIC CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Varric! DORIAN CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: It’s Dorian! MORRIGAN AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Morrigan-y. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Returning character from previous games. ISABELA AGERANGE: 50 APPEARANCE: Well-aged but perfectly maintained warrior gear for close and brutal fighting. Two possible appearances, depending on how the player resolves her past: 1. Dark black dyed hair 2. Red hair with streaks of grey CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Isabela from Dragon Age II

COMPANIONS

HARDING AGERANGE: 29 ARCHETYPE: Girl-next-door CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Scout Lace Harding, from Inquisition. It's been almost a decade and Harding's a little older and wiser, but she still thinks of herself as the simple country girl from Ferelden. Harding is cheerful and friendly, and always tries to be positive. She is kind, warm and compassionate, quick to laugh and slow to anger. EMMRICH AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Follower - will have an audition script. MANFRED CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: An undead skeleton that serves as Emmrich's faithful assistant and companion. Manfred is curious, loyal, innocent, and wants to be helpful. He doesn't speak at first, only replying in hisses that express his mood. Over the course of the game, however, as he learns more, Manfred eventually surprises everyone by speaking in short, one or two word sentences. ASSAN (listed as “GRIFFON”) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Davrin's griffon. A VO character so he can squawk and screech during banter and ambients. LUCANIS AGERANGE: 36 ACCENT: Hint of Italian, but not as strong as Zevran's. (He is from a coastal city in Antiva, which had an influx of Tevinter refugees from Seheron after the Qunari invaded 100 years or so ago. That’€™s why he looks and sounds different from Zevran and Josephine.) APPEARANCE: Lean, sinewy, handsome, but haunted Antivan human man. Mid thirties. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Once the heir to the First Talon and the Antivan Crows' best mage killer, Lucanis now bears scars both physically and mentally from his time as a brainwashed executioner for an evil mage cult. No longer the pragmatic assassin always in control, he wrestles with becoming what he’s spent his life hunting: a demon-possessed abomination. He longs to return to his former glory, but the monster inside him demands blood and vengeance. With his future hanging in the balance, Lucanis must decide whether to give into the demon or control it.

DAVRIN (he doesnt have anything aaaaa) BELLARA (she doesnt have anything either aaaaaaaaaa) NEVE AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A mage who knows the streets of Minrathous, Neve helps investigate crime in Tevinter's capital. Hired by Varric to assist in the fight against Solas, Neve brings her unique blend of time and ice magic, along with her investigative skills, to the team. Neve is clever and driven, with a dry-but-playful sense of humour. She can be cynical about the world - especially Minrathous - but she believes in doing the right thing herself and has a strong sense of duty. TAASH CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Taash is a Qunari agent with a specialization in infiltration -- a thief, basically. She can scale buildings, pick locks, and take out enemies with quick and brutal efficiency. She is also blunt and laconic -- more likely to answer with a single word than give you a big long monologue. She's not grumpy as much as badass deadpan -- she doesn't trust people in general, and she doesn't like thinking or talking about her feelings, but she believes in what she does. (Taash correctly has the “NonBinary” gender tag, but unfortunately the CharacterDescription field misgenders them. However, it also seems there are some things here and there that changed in early development, like the Qunari agent thing.)

CROWS

TEIA AGERANGE: 28 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish SPEECHPATTERN: Warm APPEARANCE: Elven female, mid to late twenties CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Passionate, showy, hot-blooded, flirtatious, and arrogantly confident. Teia believes she's a celebrity athlete who will die gloriously before she gets old and live forever in song. She has no guilt about being an assassin, and thinks anyone who judges her for it just doesn't understand how things work in Antiva, or indeed anywhere in the world where powerful men play games. Abandoned as a child, she has a soft spot for the downtrodden. VIAGO AGERANGE: 32 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, hint of snobbiness APPEARANCE: Human male, early thirties RACE: Human (Brazilian) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Calm, ambitious, and ruthless, Viago is the bastard son of the late King of Antiva. As a high-ranking member of the Crows, Viago has just as much influence as the Monarchy, but he still resents the fact that he is not a legitimate heir and feels his birthright was stolen from him. Beneath his cool exterior is a lot of anger and frustration. He will not be satisfied until he sits upon a throne. ILLARIO AGERANGE: 35 SPEECHPATTERN: Charming but with a hint of smarminess. ACCENT: Italian APPEARANCE: Ativan pretty boy CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Antivan pretty boy. Mid 30's. Illario is a power hungry assassin who cares only for himself. On the surface, he is a fun-loving, upperclass Antivan with a weakness for wine, duels, and gambling. But beneath that shallow facade is a calculating, ambitious man with grand plans for the Crows.

SPITE SPEECHPATTERN: Taunting, sing-songy, creepy CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The demon trapped inside Lucanis's head. Spite was once a Spirit of Passion drawn to Lucanis's will to live, but years of torture and a desire for revenge has twisted him into a Demon of Obsession. CATERINA AGERANGE: 80 ACCENT: Italian/Spanish APPEARANCE: Older Korean-Spanish or Korean-Italian woman (from the same region as Lucanis). Can easily play the part of both sweet grandmother and mafia boss. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Godmother of the Antivan Crows. Sassy, ruthless older woman of power, who will do anything for the success and protection of her family/house. ZARA AGERANGE: 35 APPEARANCE: Beautiful human mage. Mid 30’s. SPEECHPATTERN: Soft and teasing with a Tevinter accent. Upperclass, so formal, but not cold. More of a sensual snob than an ice queen. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A vain, hedonistic Tevinter Magister, who uses the blood of her slaves to stay young and beautiful. She is Lucanis's nemesis and is the one responsible for forcing a demon inside his head. CALIVAN AGERANGE: 55 SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, snide CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Calivan is the prison warden in charge of the Ossuary. He is as cruel as he is curious and likes to experiment on his inmates with blood magic. GOVERNOR IVENCI AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Formal, curt, demanding APPEARANCE: A Trevisan government official. They don't go around armed, because they secretly know they don't have anything to fear from the occupation. ARCHETYPE: Money-respecting Official demanding the heroes stop disrupting the status quo. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Governor Rayan Ivenci is a non-binary human, about 45, Trevisan with a Caucasian appearance. They used to be a mercenary and still have the skills, but have softened somewhat as they aged. They have been a government official for a decade, and have grown sick of being a toothless figurehead. The Crows are the true authority in Antiva, relegating officials like Ivenci to almost symbolic bookkeepers. Ivenci thinks the Crows are spoiled mascots, and Treviso should be ruled by serious figures who don't waste time on petty rivalries and theatrics. Ivenci allowed the occupation and has made steady profit from it, selling out Treviso with the intent that the Crows would be killed fighting the Antaam, expecting that and when Antiva eventually ousted the Antaam, Ivenci would solidify power before Crow houses in other cities could re-establish here. Under Ivenci, Treviso would be the thin edge of the wedge that ended the Crows power. But the Butcher didn't rampage, and didn't kill all the Crows. This has left Ivenci pretending to help fight the occupation, while also chastising the Crows for stirring up trouble. Once the Butcher is dead, Ivenci casts aside any pretense and simply takes power.

FLETCHER AGERANGE: 30 SPEECHPATTERN: Measured, serious. ARCHETYPE: Connected merchant guild leader ACCENT: Antivan APPEARANCE: Fletcher is a tradesperson and a skilled combatant with a bow. They are always dressed for travel. They aren't flashy, preferring to appear as their own guard instead of a merchant hawking wares.  CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Fletcher is a human Crow with merchant ties. Skilled in bows and ranged support, they are kitted for travel and protecting people and goods on the move. They are non-binary, tall with a thin build that codes slightly feminine. Ethnicity can be anything.

HEIR AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Calm, measured. Almost dispassionate. ACCENT: Orlesian APPEARANCE: She is pale with short dark hair and an Orlesian accent. Dressed in good light armor befitting someone who trains others in small-weapon combat and takes the occasional hit. She was the assassin trainer in Inquisition, but it's been many years and doesn't need to match the appearance except in a general sense. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Heir is a Dalish elf who acts as a trainer and mentor for young Crows. JACOBUS AGERANGE: 15 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Sullen teen with an axe to grind APPEARANCE: Young, skilled, lithely muscled. Jacobus is well trained in double-daggers, but has the typical lack of discipline of an undirected teen. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Jacobus is a young male Crow who is in danger of losing himself to vengeance. He should be as young as we can make him. If he can't be a child, he should be no older than 15. His family were killed by the Antaam, and the hate is still fresh. Skilled in daggers, he is lithe and quick, but sullen in his mannerisms. He doesn't smile yet. Ethnicity can be anything. ARCHETYPE: Youthful spite for the world NOA DE ACUTIS AGERANGE: 55 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Formal with strangers, warmer with her brother. APPEARANCE: Older veteran Crow female duelist CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Noa is an older female in her late 50s. She has been a Crow for all of her life, and remains capable and fit. Her build has the old-woman wireyness of a duelist's body that was fit her whole life. She is slow to smile, and is the more serious of the de Acutis siblings. Ethnicity can be anything, but needs to match her brother Neri encountered in the Crow plots. ARCHETYPE: Older sister, skilled assassin

NERI DE ACUTIS AGERANGE: 55 ACCENT: Antivan SPEECHPATTERN: Thoughtful, homespun APPEARANCE: Classic swordsman assassin, with an old-fashioned flare. He doesn't look dated, he looks distinguished. A godfather displaying modern tradition. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Neri is an older male in his late 50s. He has been a Crow for all of his life, and remains capable and fit. His build has the old-man-strength of a swordsman's body that was muscular his whole life, but has now lost some of the mass as he transitioned to a mentor or godfather role. He has a hard face, but is quick to a melancholy smile. Ethnicity can be anything, but needs to match his sister encountered in a later plot. ARCHETYPE: Stern but loving godfather FLEDGLING DARTONIA AGERANGE: 17 SPEECHPATTERN: Tentative due to inexperience. More confident after seeing Rook in action. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A young person in training to become an assassin. Nervous because of inexperience, but capable and willing.  Farming background. Hunted for food. Now living in the city because the lands were lost to occupation. Dartonia and Temitri are encountered in the Crow sanctum, the Diamond casino. They chat casually with each other about how their training is going, and the things they've heard about. They are young recruits to the Crows, still getting used to their training and the strict but caring manner of their trainer, Heir. They respect and have a little fear of the veteran Crows like Viago and Lucanis.  Especially Lucanis, who is a figure of some renown.

FLEDGLING TIMETRI AGERANGE: 17 SPEECHPATTERN: Over-disciplined to compensate for inexperience. They relax after seeing Rook in action. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A young person in training to become an assassin. Overcompensating for inexperience, but capable and willing. Traveled with a military family. Used to discipline, but has crafting hobbies like making various kinds of dolls. TREVISO GONDOLIER AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A blue collar gondolier pilot who runs errands in the canals of Treviso. Used to slipping past patrols for stealthy deliveries, before and during the occupation. Fit from daily work, you are no soldier or assassin, but you help in your way. ARCHETYPE: Workaday everyman who helps the assassins get from place to place. QAMEKMASTER CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Antaam Qamekmaster is a fanatic who normally is in charge of brewing the horrible mind-stealing poison, qamek. Like all Antaam, he is large, muscular, and has a soldier's mentality. However, now he is giving in to the corruption of the gods. He thinks this makes him better than the regular Antaam, and he's been locked up by the Butcher because of it. When Rook finds them, they willingly succumb to the corruption entirely, and become a monstrous creature called a Reaver. Once transformed he is a massive, fleshy juggernaut consumed by fervor and rage. Most of his dialogue is combat as the transformed Reaver. CHANCE CANDIDE AGERANGE: 25 SPEECHPATTERN: Confident, with a flare for the dramatic. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Standard Crow garb on a young man. Chance is a stylish, dramatic Orlesian who joined the Crows to be their emmisary among the courts of Orlais. (French accent.) He has since joined the effort in Treviso, and is fighting the Antaam occupation alongside his fellow Crows. He has chosen to rally people in the underbelly of town, which is a bit of a contrast from his previous position, but that's what he likes. He's the bright spot in a dark time for many people. ARCHETYPE: Gentleman assassin

MARKET MASTER AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Friendly but businesslike APPEARANCE: Market master in expensive clothes. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The all-business master of the market in Treviso. She's frustrated by the occupation, but uninterested in discussions about who should be in charge. She's only interested in getting whoever is at the head out of the city's business. Her name is Master Sidestreet Alidare. Sidestreet is a nickname representing her low origins and her ability to do deals on the side.

VEIL JUMPERS

CYRIAN AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Bellara's brother. Zealously dedicated to the rebirth of the elves. Half-possessed by Anaris, an ancient elven would-be god who lives inside a magical mask. STRIFE AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: One of the Dalish faction agents. Strife is a keen-eyed hunter who grew up in the elven city slums, but was taken in by the forest-dwelling Dalish elves and taught to be an expert woodsman. He's rugged, tough, adventurous, and doesn't suffer fools. He feels some disconnect between his city-upbringing and his current role as a hunter - somtimes Strife worries he's an imposter, not truly growing up with his people, but he's tried to take their teachings to heart. Strife is loyal to those who earn his friendship, and fiercely protective of his clan. IRELIN AGERANGE: 25 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Dalish elf who grew up in the woods, Irelin has learned the ancient and incredibly rare art of shapeshifting. She uses this ability to move secretly in the forest, scouting for her people. Practical and no-nonsense when it comes to defending her clan and her friends, she has a healthy distrust of outsiders, especially the humans who've persecuted and exploited her people for so long. Irelin takes a secret joy in the thrill and power of shapeshifting, however. She loves exploring as the different animals of the forest, and knows some of their paths better than anyone.

WARDENS

ANTOINE AGERANGE: 25 ACCENT: French (Orlesian) CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Antoine is a cheerful and enthusiastic member of the Grey Wardens. He's quick-witted and willing to run with a crazy plan. Compassionate and kind, he'll put his life on the line to protect others. (filename tag is “agent_improviser”) EVKA AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Evka is a devoted member of the Grey Wardens. She's a good-natured pragmatist who's calm under pressure and not easily fazed by the monsters of Thedas. Despite her professional attitude, she isn't above some mild sarcasm or gallows humour. (filename tag is “agent_tracker”) WARDEN GRETA AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Greta is friendly, personable, and loves being a Grey Warden. She is generally positive (though has a low moment following the fall of the Warden base Weisshaupt). Greta provides information to Rook and always welcomes a chat. If Rook is a Grey Warden, Greta has met them before--they both became Wardens around the same time. Greta doesn't know Rook well--it's more like running into an old school mate--but she likes them. WARDEN RHODRI AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Rhodri is determined and brave. He worries about other people, but tries to show confidence so others are not afraid. He prefers simple solutions to complex plans.

HOLDEN AGERANGE: 35 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The father of Mila, the little girl in Weisshaupt mission. MILA AGERANGE: 9 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A plucky little girl Rook meets during the siege of Weisshaupt. JAYNIE AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A Grey Warden lookout. Jaynie is organized and observant. She's someone who likes to have a plan. She is a loyal friend and has a dry sense of humour. Jaynie believes you should always try your best. FLYNN AGERANGE: 30 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Flynn is the local physician in Lavendel. They recently went through the Warden Joining ritual which gives them Warden abilities (though they will remain a doctor). Flynn is smart and compassionate. A pacifist who is somewhat soft-spoken and has a self-deprecating sense of humour. (there’s other minor wardens with names and short personality descriptions; if you’d like any of them just let me know. to the nobody that is reading this. i have a headache rn. but i will persevere.)

SHADOW DRAGONS

TARQUIN AGERANGE: 39 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Tarquin is a burned-out templar who had the idealism beat out of him years ago. He now fights with the Shadow Dragons, offering a more cynical, realistic view that often contrasts with the idealistic and impulsive Viper. Tarquin is a trans man. SPEECHPATTERN: Gruff, deadpan. (filename tag is “agent_cop”) THE VIPER AGERANGE: 30 (filename tag is “agent_vigilante”) MAKAL DAMAS AGERANGE: 45 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-Appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The secret head of a criminal organization. Calm, businesslike, and shrewd. He may run a crime network, but he has a sense of loyalty and a code. That said, he'll be violent and ruthless when needed. ELEK TAVOR AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-Appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Charming and friendly con artist. Friends with Neve despite being on opposite sides of the law. CAT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A cat. HALOS AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A blunt-but-kind merchant. Knows he sells the best food in the city. Neve is his most regular customer and therefore his favourite.

LORELEI AGERANGE: 40 SPEECHPATTERN: Fereldan, from Denerim, so she should have an accent that matches our Fereldan accents. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Lorelei is an elf who runs the pawn shop that conceals the Shadow Dragons' hideout. Lorelei was originally from Ferelden, captured and sold to Tevinter slavers. She has since been freed thanks to the Shadow Dragons, and continues to work for them. MAEVARIS TILANI AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Maevaris Tilani is a powerful, notorious Tevinter magister who was one of the founders of the Shadow Dragons. Respected by some, and hated by others, Maevaris will not rest until she achieves her dream of changing Tevinter for the better. Maevaris is a trans woman and her first appearance was in the comic book, Dragon Age: Those Who Speak. AELIA AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British or Tevinter-appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A devoted member of the Venatori who believes Minrathous must return to its former glory. Neve foiled her plans in the past. Cold, determined, passionate. RANA SAVAS AGERANGE: 30 ACCENT: British/Tevinter-appropriate CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A determined and idealistic templar. By-the-books, she believes in following the law and that rules are the best. Doesn't give up or compromise her ideals despite the corrupt system she finds herself in.

LORDS OF FORTUNE

DRAGON KING AGERANGE: 45 SPEECHPATTERN: Blunt, arrogant. A brutal warlord or crime boss. Also speaks lines in the Qunari language. APPEARANCE: Big Qunari (ox-man) with enormous shoulders and battle scars. Old enough to be a military commander, but not so old that anyone would think of him as weak. Big, brutal, mean. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Qunari in charge of the Antaam in this area. Used to be a military officer, but when the Antaam went rogue, he became something like a warlord of cult leader. A powerful warrior with a booming voice. He should sound like the paragon of big dangerous evil masculinity, and he makes his warriors go through painful rituals to prove their devotion. He's strong, blunt, and devoid of mercy or empathy. Will likely kill anyone he doesn't see as useful or entertaining to him. Basically, a bad guy doing his evil bad guy best. SHATHANN AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Qunari woman in her 50s. Former Qunari government worker who fled with Taash when Taash was revealed as a fire-breather. CUTTER AGERANGE: 24 APPEARANCE: A Qunari, but only about as tall as a human -- short by Qunari standards. Dresses as a mercenary, fashionable because he's full of himself. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Cutter is Qunari, but he grew up in Rivain and acts human (ie, he does not follow the Qun or even know much about it). He's a junior member of the Lords of Fortune, the same mercenary band Taash is in. He's young, cocky, and jealous of how strong and competent Taash is. He wants the respect Taash has earned, and when he doesn't get it, he betrays Taash and sells them out to the Dragon King. Generally speaking, he should act with the kind of smug, entitled confidence of someone who doesn't have much real-life experience -- bluster with jealous insecurity underneath.

KARASH AGERANGE: 50 SPEECHPATTERN: A little stilted and formal, because he grew up speaking another language. CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A middle-aged Qunari man who was a civilian navigator and weather expert assigned to work on a military vessel. After seeing the military commit war crimes, he deserted, and now lives alone on a beach, doing odd jobs and keeping to himself. He is polite but withdrawn, a little cautious around strangers. Taash (and Taash's mother, Shathann) bring him food from time to time, and he is much more comfortable around Taash, talking to her more like an old uncle. (Again, incorrect pronouns used for Taash here in the character notes.)

MOURN WATCH

MYRNA AGERANGE: 25 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Myrna is a necromancer from Nevarra. Utterly precise diction, calm demeanor. Crisp, polite, and intimidatingly competent. Myrna often speaks in declaratives, and absently drops archaic or obscure words at least once a conversation. She's not unfriendly, however, and firmly on the side of those doing good. Myrna is part of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers who run Nevarra's sacred repository of the dead: the Grand Necropolis. They also protect people from occult dangers, a duty she takes seriously. VORGOTH CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Vorgoth is deep-voiced, solemn, and imposing. They're a member of the Mourn Watch, an elite group of necromancers from the kingdom of Nevarra. But what Vorgoth is exactly—their species, age, gender, whether or not they're alive—is a mystery, shrouded and masked in a cloak. Vorgoth clearly has supernatural powers, however. Even their voice has an otherworldly echo. Vorgoth doesn't speak much, and only in short sentences. As one of the Mourn Watch, they help guard Nevarra's sacred burial complex, the Grand Necropolis. Like all Watchers, Vorgoth is also sworn to stop occult threats to this world, and takes this duty seriously. NOTE: Vorgoth is masculine in appearance (tall, broad) and voice, but their pronouns are "they/them". Vorgoth does not use they/them because they are non-binary (as opposed to our more typical non-binary characters); they use them because they're a total unknown (and may be a pluralistic entity; in the rare instance Vorgoth refers to themselves, they use "we" not "I".) HEZENKOSS AGERANGE: 50 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Arrogant, supremely confident, and spiteful, Johanna Hezenkoss is a "mad-genius" necromancer supervillain with grand plans to conquer the kingdom of Nevarra. Hezenkoss is all feverish energy and big, sudden gestures. She is constantly fueled by an overwhelming ambition and rage. Hezenkoss is probably as intelligent as she boasts, incredibly powerful, and filled with a seething resentment that people try to keep stopping her from ruling everything. Foremost among these people is Emmrich Volkarin, her former friend and fellow necromancer. Johanna and Emmrich have known each other for decades-they used to work on magical research together in the Mourn Watch, an elite order of Necromancers. They had a falling out when a power-hungry Johanna started practicing forbidden necromancy and was kicked out of the Watchers for it. Ever since then, Johanna and Emmrich have clashed as he's tried to stop her villanous schemes. In this game, Hezenkoss has crafted her most diabolical plan yet: a 10-story tall bone golem that can drain peoples' souls and crush anything in its path. She'll stop at nothing to complete it so she can take over Nevarra's capital city. Emmrich and his new friend Rook, frustratingly, stand in her way.

LICH LORD CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: This is lich: an ancient, undead mage. Her speech is formal, authoratative, and occasionally sharp when she has little patience for the living. Speaks in shorter sentences, as she's so old she's fallen out of the habit of vocalizing too much. While impossingly sinister-looking, she's not evil. She just has a viewpoint that thinks in centuries instead of years. KEEPSAKE CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit that guards the Grand Necropolis, an enormous underground complex full of the sacred dead-and undead. There's a lot of possessed skeletons wandering around down there.  Keepsake manifests as a glowing, floating, see-through skeleton in a shroud. Keepsake has worked with the necromancers who take care of the Necropolis for ages, and knows a lot about what's going on down there. Sometimes mocking or sardonic, with a dryly morbid sense of humor, it's still dedicated to helping people. Keepsake always appears with its companion spirit, Curio, who's the more positive and upbeat of the pair. CURIO CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A spirit that guards the Grand Necropolis, an enormous underground complex full of the sacred dead-and undead. There's a lot of possessed skeletons wandering around down there.  Curio manifests as a glowing, floating, see-through skeleton in a shroud.  Curio has worked with the necromancers who take care of the Necropolis for ages, and knows a lot about what's going on down there. Its chatty and friendly, often deeply curious. A strange, whimsical being, intrigued by the mortals who wander through. Curio always appears with its companion spirit, Keepsake, who's the more sardonic and cynical of the pair.

SEALED SPIRIT CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A prideful, ancient demon that's been sealed away for centuries.  You're malevolently curious about what makes these foolish mayfly mortals tick. As part of your imprisonment, you've been splintered into multiple bodies with the same mind. You use them to goad the player, hoping they'll try to defeat you, because you think you can manipulate them into freeing you from your prison. If they do, you have a surprise for them: once freed, you can possess an undead dragon, wrecking untold devastation on the land that thought it could chain you.

KAL-SHAROK

STALGARD AGERANGE: 40 CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Stalgard is a dwarf from Kal-Sharok, a mysterious dwarven city that has very little contact with the outside world. Stalgard is stoic and steadfast and serious, with a strong sense of honor. DURRA CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: Durra is a dwarf from Kal-Sharok and Stalgard's sister. She is one of Kal-Sharok's historians, known as "Stewards of Memories." Much like her brother, Durra has a strong sense of honor, but is a lot less serious. STONE ORACLE CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: The Oracle is a mysterious entity. known to the Kal-Sharok dwarves. They revere her as a spiritual figure. She is connected to the Titans and makes herself known through a strange rock statue. The Oracle was originally Shaper Valta (first seen in DAI's 'The Descent' DLC). After Valta connected with the Titan in the Wellspring, she became the Oracle and made herself known to the Kal-Sharok dwarves. All Oracle lines should have audio processing on them.

MISCELLANEOUS

THE SCHOLAR CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A self-important, uptight scholar. He is trying to prove himself to the academy and will go to any means to do so--including murder if that's what must be done. THE EXECUTOR APPEARANCE: Human-appearing CHARACTERDESCRIPTION: A masked and hooded figure that speaks like someone unfamiliar with language in general. Stilted, awkward, but with a low menace. SPEECHPATTERN: Stilted. Is trying to form words from thoughts that are far more complex than a regular person's.

[source]

again please note that this work and document resource was put together by amirdrassil on Twitter! they kindly gave me permission to cross-post it here. 🙏

[babe-a-yaga]

What was done to Isseya is one of my personal biggest upsets with this game. I loved her in Last Flight. She's a genuinely interesting, complex character, and given the themes of mistakes and regret present through Veilguard, it makes TOTAL sense for her to make an appearance! What makes no sense at all is for her to be reduced to a two dimensional villain with no clear motivation who's just...doing exactly the thing she fucked up in life? Except worse? I'm gonna summarize the events of last flight for the folks who haven't read it;

The first griffin Isseya put through the joining was already blighted in battle, and dying from it. Quickly. Griffins are extra sensitive to the Blight and any attempts made to join them resulted in the animals going berserk and tearing themselves, and anyone else in range, to pieces to get away from what was now in their veins.

In a well meaning, but misguided effort to save one of the animals she loved, she used blood magic to alter the griffon's mind, to convince it the Blight in it's system was just a regular cold, and it didn't need to fight it, then put it through the joining.

It worked, but it changed the griffon. Made it stronger, fight harder. More difficult to handle. The griffon ultimately went out in a spectacular blaze of glory, and people didn't know what she did, just that she did SOMETHING, and that griffon did ten griffons worth of damage on it's way out.

The fourth blight was far worse, far longer than any of the blights we have witnessed first hand. I think it lasted like 15 years? And it was going badly for Thedas. They ordered Isseya to do what she had done to the first griffon again as a last ditch to stand a chance at I *think* Starkhaven (it's been a little bit since I read last flight, so I'm sketchy on dates and what battles were fought specifically when). She hated doing this, but it was orders, and it was exploit this handful of griffons or watch the world die. She's a warden, she signed up to stop the blight at any cost. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.

By the time her brother Garahel slays Andoral, she's had to blight a number of griffons, and the constant blood magic use has massively accelerated the blight in her own body. Her brother garahel is this golden haired pretty boy beloved by everyone who looks upon him, and Isseya looks so much like a ghoul at this point people are uncomfortable being in the same room as her. Even though this is completely due to her service to the wardens.

Then, the remaining joined griffons start going mad. And then it starts to spread to the other, non-joined griffons. In using blood magic to convince the griffons the blight was just a disease, she had caused it to become one. A contagious one.

It's one of the most interesting examples of how dangerous blood magic actually is we ever see. We're just told over and over "blood magic bad, slippery slope to killing people. Bad. Even if you use your own." And we never really see explicitly why it's an inherently dangerous form of magic until this.

Back to Isseya though. Garahel's lover's Griffon had a clutch of eggs sired by Garahel's Crookytail. Isseya, knowing there was no stopping what was now in motion with the griffons, set out to do her one last act of penance. She took, and purified those eggs, hid them in a ward that kept them in stasis, so that they might only hatch once the griffons were gone, and this disease had died with them, so they might have a chance. And then she hid the clues to their location, and begged that whoever find them not let them be used by the wardens again.

And then she went on her calling.

These are not the actions of a villain. Isseya EMBODIES the warden principal of sacrifice. But it isn't glorious battle rewarded by a quick death alongside an archdemon for her. It's death by inches, by blight, knowingly and willingly accelerated in her own body to stop it from consuming the world. Sacrificing her ideals, the animals she loves, her brother, Garahel. Isseya gives it all for the wardens, to end the blight, and is not thanked for it or remembered kindly.

And she did everything she could to seed the slightest bit of hope, that both in spite of her and because of her, griffons might return to the world, as free creatures.

Her Veilguard arc feels like really egregious character assassination, and I wish she had been given an ounce of the sympathy that other characters had been given. It made sense for her to be here, thematically, mistakes and regret, and good intentions still leading to bad ends, but she deserved the same opportunity for forgiveness and/or redemption that Solas, Mythal, Cyrian, even Illario got.

Isseya was done dirty by Veilguard.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Feel free to delete this if it bothers you, I just wanted to talk about this real quick where it's easier to find than the comments of that one post & hopefully a little more in-depth. I am part of a DID system, and we're Hispanic. That being said, we do have alters/parts that "look" like other races. All but one of our non-introject alters are Hispanic, but introjects we have "look" the race the characters from the source material are. That doesn't change that we are a Hispanic system, and not a single one of us identifies as any other race than what we are. Our only "white" non-introject looks that way since he was formed from racial trauma. He was sort of our minds way of coping with being viewed as less-than for our race.

There are absolutely some systems who believe they/their alters ARE the race they "look", and while race is a social construct, it's one based upon your family, how society views you, your culture, etc. Alters are not any race other than what the body is. I don't think I've seen this question pop up in the PoC community, but it's relatively common in the system community.

I've also noticed somewhat of a trend with PoC systems where we form non-human alters. These are alters that are animals, monsters, demons/angels, robots, etc. I think it's sort of a reaction to being treated like we're not human. Personally, we have shape shifter, "god/goddess", and satyr parts. I know for a fact our god/goddess alters were formed in some capacity due to the dehumanization we faced, and they're gods because our little 5 year old brain thought they would sort of be powerful enough to keep us safe if that makes any sense

Thank you for sharing your experience with us!

[4zahar]

00 | The Star Child

Masterlist. Next→

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: English is not my first language. Happy New Year! 🎊

—Ad astra per aspera—

Gotham's streets hadn't been designed to withstand rainfall over 30 milliliters per hour. A fact highlighted when some areas became prone to flooding due to the poorly thought out infrastructure of the sewer system. Built far too intricate and unnecessarily so, without consideration for situations such as heavy storms and raining season. The kind of problem Politicians would forever liked to preach about solving despite not a single soul believing half the funds for said project wouldn't be later on pocketed. Not a single uncorrupted branch was left on Politic matters.

Unfortunately and adding to the pile of reasons for a solitary boy to be wondering the streets drenched from head to toe at the whim of the storm—Clothes clinged uncomfortably to his skin; said kid was seemingly trying to shield a backpack with his body.

Car horns blaring in the distance in the alleys, speeding over the runoff from the storm pooling along the curbs. Streams formed, raising past ankles as the lone boy sprinted across the street, splashing in the filth to round the wrong corner. By the time he stepped in The Narrows his already worn off shoes became muddy puddles.

There was the chilling wind biting at his bones too. No matter how much he pulled at the hoodie, clearly a size too big, it did little socked and stained to provide any warmth.

A dog barking behind a fence became the only sound Jason could hear above his own teeth chattering.

He became the man of the house at a far too young age, the same day his father got arrested. Jason Todd’s survival on the streets of the country's most dangerous city hinged on a self-sufficiency no child should possess. Devastating was the burden thrusted upon him, forcing him to scavenge for food, scrape together money—stealing if necessary—and keep a eye on his mother.

He had learned through pain how things worked. Everything always getting worse over and over before ever showing signs of getting better—if they ever did. Lessons taught by the streets. Yet for all his toughness and bravado, the idea of losing his mother devastated him enough to seek help from anyone, anywhere. He'll do anything.

His mother, Catherine Todd, had never been so shameless before. Never like this, in her infinite wisdom, had she locked Jason out of the house with a storm in toe. Perhaps in her altered perception of reality, she did her son a favor. However, most children were far from far from stupid. The closest they'll have would be naivety, which her son wasn't. Jason wasn't blind and deaf like many seemed to view him as. What those days and afternoons locked out really were for Jason were failures for not having been able to stop them. Stop her.

The cure for her mother's illness was the same substance slowly but surely killing her, apparently, and according to the drug dealer that'll come to their home. As if Jason were stupid. As if he didn't know drugs were no magical spell and about his mother's addiction.

Overwhelmed, his resolve faltered. Losing on a betting game with all odds against him, Jason saw no choice but to force himself to go out under the lash of a storm in search of a new player.

Someone who had no name or face that he could remember, but whose existence was suspended in a forgotten photo half-embraced by fire; His sister.

Willis had not liked to talk about his oldest child, so you must've been a force to be reckoned with.

═════════════ • ✧ • ══════════════

One of the last threads of hope he had had, summarized in this ominous building. After this, Jason will ran out of ideas. For a while he has been standing in front of the door of an apartment in one of the many complexes nearby. After hitting one too many dead ends, Jason knew better than to let himself be haunted with What ifs.

Armed with an old picture of you, the sister he never had, in which he was an infant in your arms and your smile had missing baby teeth. Now he was ten and had to squint to find any resemblance to his old baby-self. You could've changed so much all could be for nothing if you had done as much as dyed your hair.

Just the walk from Crime Alley had costed him his backpack. Far more he should've allowed himself to for this to be worth nothing, so there better be a fairy behind this door. At the very least a decent human being.

He wasn't backing down. Jason just needed a moment, okay?

Lots of thoughts and thugs had been faced tonight—the longest walk his short legs had ever made in his short life was enough for him to get mugged by a group of drug addicts.

Facing disappointment, his great fear of being left alone, tightened his chest far more than the kick to the ribs he got a couple blocks ago. (Him being a child meant his backpack had proudly carried four pieces of gum, a pair of socks and an used toothbrush which hadn't been good enough for a bunch of crazy. God forbid a boy had his own problems.) However, he was lucky they didn't kidnap him or worse. Even if only because of knowing nothing would be gained from it after seeing the inside of his backpack.

You could be anywhere if not here, really. Even dead in a ditch. Children didn't get very far alone. They were all attracted by dim light of deception in a deep dark ocean and devoured by an anglefish or other predator lurking by.

After a deep sigh, his lungs filled with false courage and the pollution gothamies were so familiar with. Although His hand froze halfway to knocking on the door, three times did the sound echoed down the hall and Jason's arm flashed hidden behind himself just as fast.

An eerie silence settled back in before Jason tried again. Three knocks, louder this time, were intended. Jason got to one before the dull thud of something falling to the ground was heard from inside. The response had almost been immediate, followed by footsteps. Jason barely had time to take a step back before the door creaked open as far as the chain on the bolt allowed.

A somewhat gloomy looking girl peeked out. She seemed to have just woken up in any case, with her short hair a mess of spiky locks pointed in all directions. Adding to the frame of her face were blue drooping eyes lingered above Jason's head for a second too long as if she expected someone taller.

Great offense was taken at that by the way. He had gone through a lot, walked way too much, not for this—and you—to call him out like that. You weren't even that much taller than him. You weren't even standing straight hiding most of yourself behind the door. Then her eyes descended to meet him, and Jason's mind went blank.

He couldn't fully see her face. Didn't need to see to know this was you his sister. The picture he had of you felt heavy on his pocket as you looked just like your mother. His mother.

The lump in his throat made itself all the more present when he tried to speak, so he waited for a greeting of your own instead. Anything to not be the one who had to speak first would have been a good start in Jason's books.

The silence stretched despite the two. His tongue felt like it had been tied up, stammered the first thing that came to mind when nothing came of you.

“I am your brother,” he blurted out, with anxious energy so clumsy he instantly regretted it.

Taglist(?): @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[chowadoe]

so more on that role reversal au...

Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik

some more expanded thoughts below ^_^

SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT

Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.

he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)

the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.

Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..

If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?

what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.

Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.

au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil

when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)

SONIC - ACCOMPLICE

Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)

Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.

He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)

and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!

his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...

has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.

Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^

Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 

the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm

[twst-hottest-takes]

Okay, now that I'm caught up on the game's EN release content it's time to talk about the thing!

Lucky post number 300! Hooah!

So, back when the Savanaclaw dream chapters came out in Japan, the translations had people a little bit confused about the implications regarding Leona's dream (see these posts for the drama). Now that we have an official English version, let's talk a bit more in depth about this update and what it means for Leona as a character at least as far as this localization is concerned.

Context First: Leona became king of the Sunset Savana in his dream, but in order for that to happen, we are told that in the dream world those before him in the royal family's line of succession (his brother Falena and nephew Cheka) are dead. The details of the supposed accident that cause this to happen aren't elaborated on and this has left a large question hanging in the air for a lot of people with VERY serious character implications for Leona: Is he responsible for their deaths in this dream scenario where the consequences of doing so don't exist? There is an unfortunate string of bad writing involving Leona as a character which leaves this question woefully unresolved. Did this dream start with Leona getting rid of his family? Or did the dream start at the point where he was inexplicably given the ability to have everything he wanted and continuing on from there without even Leona knowing the details for himself? I'm about to discuss this at length to establish what I personally think the answer is supposed to be, so please bear with me as I delve into this fascinating subject.

Setting the scene a bit; as we continue to travel through the various dreams to wake up our main cast, we notice that something in Leona's dream is very different from what we saw in the previous updates. Somehow Leona is not having an awesome amazing dream, but something that really seems more akin to a nightmare. True to form, instead of having any kind of original idea about where to take Leona's character we are greeted to the latter half of the Lion King where Scar is king and the Pridelands are shambles. It's pointed out by our dream-hopping cast that this is not in alignment with the established patterns of what Malleus' dream magic has done to everyone previously. The only bit that lines up with how we know the dream magic to work is that Leona has become the King of the Sunset Savana. In a world that should be devoid of negative consequences, the throughline should be that Leona is a great king and the kingdom is prospering beyond anyone's wildest expectations no matter what it is he does, but that hasn't happened. So what's going on?

I'll be brutally honest, I have no idea what Idia was trying to say in terms of saying Leona's dream was a "sandbox" style game (akin to minecraft or the sims I guess). The explanation is botched, and nothing they say tracks with what happened before this specific dream. My best understanding of what is going on is as follows: Leona has an insane amount of imagination, intelligence, and mental aptitude that enabled him to subconsciously game the system Malleus had in place to keep everyone in their dream lands. While most dreams are made on the idea of certain negative events being erased or altered while maintaining important people from their lives to keep the dreamer immersed and happy, Leona's dream cannot be founded on things he finds illogical. Falena and Cheka must not be involved so that he can be king, but it would be unrealistic to pose that they don't exist, therefore it is that somehow Leona's dream says they died so that he could get the throne (back to that point at the end). Leona also seems to have the presence of mind to have very strictly altered the nature of the dream to favor keeping him asleep as opposed to keeping him happy. Something about how Leona thinks has dictated that anything "improbable" or "impossible" would break his immersion and consequently cause him to wake up. As a result of this, there is no way his actions in his dreams can lack the negative effects he acknowledges are possible as a result of him doing whatever he wants as a ruler, leading to the nightmare that ends up unfolding instead of the more typical "unrealistic" dream and further ends in him falling into the deeper dream state to escape an already failing one.

In the deeper dream we get a typical recreation of events in the game where reality is altered so that our Overblotter's scheme has gone off without a hitch and he is snapped out of it by getting a harsh reality check. Upon waking up, he gets dragged down one more time and is forced to confront the nasty part of himself that is what caused him to overblot and do a little soul searching before defeating it, accepting it as a part of himself, and returning to the base dream to reunite with the primary cast. (An abridged summary.)

Now we can get to the fun part where I actually analyze what we have got here:

In a wild twist of fate, I have come to the conclusion that the writing of Twisted Wonderland has done something unprecedented and actually given us some character development on Leona's part, or at least some solid characterization that finally shines some light on his depressive disposition. Based on what we were shown, Leona, while being a cut above everyone else in terms of imagination and magic power has forced Malleus' magic to act differently on himself than all the previous dreamers. For comparison, Floyd would have loved a world where his chaotic nature led to any number of negative outcomes for the sake of it, he is unable to change the nature of the dream state and ends up in a perpetually bored state of limbo. In contrast, Leona cannot fathom a world that works unrealistically outside of the mentality that he is currently stuck in--that there is no good end for him in any scenario. Negative consequences need to happen or else he risks waking up, and when those consequences do happen it triggers his regular coping mechanism--giving the hell up and living listlessly--which inevitably drags him down into the second level of the dream state. What this culminates in is the idea that Leona cannot imagine a world where a happy ending is possible for him, the only result of which can be an actual nightmare.

Now what one may ask is, "How does this help us determine how Leona actually feels about his family and if he was actually willing to kill them or not?" I simply posit that by FINALLY being able to acknowledge the perpetual state of resignation to his fate and self-destructive behavior Leona lives in, we can get a better understanding of his behavior in his dream. When sent to confront his past (overblot) self, Leona describes him as pathetic. This twisted version of himself is completely okay with spouting that he hates his lot in life and wishes death on his brother and nephew, but this is acknowledged to be a flawed and weaker version of the character. There is a lengthy discussion to be had about how emotional outbursts can affect what someone says and how much truth can be gleaned from the most visceral exposure to the world the dark recesses of the human psyche can have on us, but for the short of it: The basest version of your emotions are NOT a definition of you as a person, and the same should be applied here. I am of the firm belief that while there are many times where Leona has intrusive thoughts about how all it would take is a well-orchestrated accident to get him to be the next king, he does not regularly harbor those feelings and is not willing to make such a scheme happen. It is my own impression, and belief that this is the intent of the chapter, that Leona's initial dream characterized by him being the king starts at the point where kingship is bestowed upon him and the reason he accepts this as reality for the time is because such an accident happened, and it happened without his causing it, because while it is tragic it is also the only way he can fathom such a thing being real.

Oh, by the way we are absolutely not done here yet: If all you want is my conclusion then you can stop reading, but I have so much more to say.

In summary: Leona is NOT willing to kill his family in order to usurp the throne.

Do I blame anyone else for thinking that he was implied to have done it himself in this case where supposedly he was living the coveted "no consequences power fantasy?" Oh, heck no. Leona's writing has been atrocious for the vast majority of the game up until this point. Even the first two-thirds of Leona's dream story makes it apparent that the writers still struggle to give him any kind of characterization outside of "Scar from The Lion King." They lean so heavily on the source material with this character specifically, of course we're going to believe that Leona would kill his family if they were to come right out and say it (which they nearly did). He tried to get Malleus trampled in a stampede of normal people and regularly espouses underhanded tactics in favor of winning outcomes--Where's the lie? Idia seems to float the idea that Leona made a dream to be played on "challenge mode" which is what triggered the abnormal results, but you can't pay me to believe that when Leona is a notorious lout, cheat, and shortcut taker. Thankfully, the last section of this update did some serious legwork in terms of finally making Leona into a likeable guy that I can solidly say that his visceral impulsive feelings that make him want to be king regardless of how are just that. Feelings. They suck sometimes and Leona actively acknowledges that those kinds of awful actions aren't really the solution to his problems which is why he never does anything. The most surprising part of this entire confrontation between Leona and his id is that he doesn't just accept his negative feelings as what they are, and call it a day saying "This is me, and the world has to deal with it." He says he's going to follow his ambitions and reach his goal somehow of having a throne and pride of his own someday, which is. . .just vague enough to work? Y'all let's be honest, we are so starved for good Leona content that I have to latch on to this with my grubby little fingers and take it for all it's worth. This statement sounds surprisingly motivated for this guy. The vagueness of the statement leaves room for the interpretation that his throne and his pride might not end up being conventionally defined. One might almost mistake this as character development instead of the constant stagnation these overblot confrontations have been feeding us. While it might be a pipe dream, there is some real groundwork being put down here that Leona's got some actual redeeming qualities and I have to happy about that. The execution is still messy of course--a better version of this is one where Leona is stuck in a dead-end time loop of nightmares where nothing he tries works, justifying his self-destructive behavior before finally sinking deeper into the darkness--but at least one person writing this chapter threw us a bone. Leona did the odd sacrifice play to save Ruggie, and didn't make fun of Jack (much) for crying when he came back to the crew intact. Heck, I think it's fair to say that at the end there they even did a manly hug reminiscent of the Stardust Crusaders finale. That's some oddly good stuff for main-story Leona, so there's grounds for optimism going forward.

It's probably too good to be true because this is Twisted Wonderland, but we'll take what we can get.

LONG LIVE THE KING!

Thank you for reading!

Bonus notes because I can't shut up about this stuff: Bruh, Leona modded his dream to have a custom NPC of Kifaji and it was epic. He's the second most powerful student at this school at this point BAR NONE. Leona's mental projection of Kifaji reflects so much respect and even a gleam of hope. Like even if Leona can't believe in a happy ending for himself he still subconsciously believes in Kifaji as a constant. I want to talk about the potential sincerity of Leona's remorse as well regarding him knowing that Falena and Cheka are dead. I want to say that this is where we actually break away from him being "sexy scar" and he wasn't being performative about it. Like he genuinely might be upset being reminded that in that world they were dead somehow and got even more pissed when a fake Cheka showed up later. As though it wasn't Cheka that upset him, but he fact that someone would be impersonating his DEAD NEPHEW to overthrow him. We're getting into fanfic and headcanon territory here, I'll admit that, but Leona could be such an amazing character! I HAVE WANTED TO BELIEVE THAT LEONA DOESN'T ACTUAL HATE HIS FAMILY THAT MUCH FOR SO LONG! WHY HAVE WE NOT GOTTEN MORE SOLID EVIDENCE OF THIS CHARACTER UNTIL NOW!? WHERE WAS THIS MAKING ME FEEL FOR THIS LION JERK BACK IN BOOK 2 HUH!? WHY IS IT ALL SUBTEXT BEFORE NOW!? Justice for Leona! They should not have been holding out on us like that for this long! Give the man his redeeming qualities!

Oh, and of course if they weren't constantly leaning on The Lion King as shot for shot template for Savanaclaw as a whole then Jack yelling, "REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!" to wake up Leona would have had so much more punch to it. Just . . .UUUAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHH!!!! *Deep Breaths* Okay, now I'm done. The Blog Owner is signing off for real now.

P.S. If you've read this far, guess what? The Askbox is going to be open for a little while, so I'll let you know that as a bonus thank you for reading all the way through my most recent screed.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Poison

References (Forms, Actions & Examples of Poison; Route of Administration; Some Symptoms; What to do if a Poisoning Happens)

400 years back, Paracelsus stated that, “All substances are poisons; there is none which is not a poison.”

If the right dose is taken, it could become a remedy, otherwise poisonous.

Poison - a substance which when administered, inhaled or swallowed by living organism causes ill effects on the body. It is defined also as a medicine in a toxic dose. Toxic substance may be solid, liquid, gas or any environmental agent.

Forms of Poison

Physical form: Gaseous/volatile/vaporous forms of poisons act faster than liquid poisons as they are quickly absorbed. Similarly, liquid poisons act faster than solid poisons. Gaseous or volatile > liquid > solid. For solid poisons, powdered poisons act quickly than the lumps. For example, there are certain seeds that escape the gastrointestinal tract as they are solid, but when crushed, they can be fatal. For solids: powdered > lumps

Chemical form: Few substances like mercury or arsenic are not poisonous as they are insoluble and cannot be absorbed when they are in combination with other substances like mercuric chloride, arsenic oxide, etc. In other cases, the action is vice versa. For example, there are some substances that become inert in combination with silver nitrate and hydrochloric acid and are deadly and poisonous when present in pure forms.

Mechanical combination: The effect of poisons is significantly altered when they are combined with inert substances.

Action of Poisons

Local action: Direct action on the affected site of the body. Examples include irritation and inflammation in strong mineral acids and alkalis, congestion and inflammation by irritants, the effect on motor and sensory nerves, etc.

Remote action: Affects the person due to absorption of that poison into the system of that person. For example, alcohol is absorbed in the system and then it affects the person.

Local and remote actions: Some poisons can affect both local and remote organs. Thus, they not only affect the area with contact to the poison but also cause toxic effect after absorption into the system.

General action: The absorbed poison affects more than one system of the body, for example, mercury, arsenic, etc.

Route of Administration

The route of administration is the path through which a drug, toxin, or poison is taken or administered into the body of a person which is distinguished by the location where any drug is applied. It is mostly classified on the basis of its target:

Topical—has a local effect

Enteral—has a wide effect, i.e., affect the whole system

Parental—follows a systemic action

Poisons are given or taken so that death can occur at once by shock due to stoppage of body’s vital systems.

Route of administration plays a very important role in determination of death by poison as time in which death occurs are fastest in inhaled poisons, relatively slow in injected and lastly when ingested orally.

Some Symptoms

Sore throat

Trouble breathing

Drowsiness, irritability, or jumpiness

Nausea, vomiting, or stomach pain without fever

Lip or mouth burns or blisters

Unusual drooling

Strange odors on breath

Unusual stains on clothing

Seizures or unconsciousness

Examples

Poisons Based on Mode of Action

1. Corrosive poisons

Strong Acid - sulfuric acid, nitric acid, hydrochloric acid

Strong Base - sodium hydroxide, potassium hydroxide, ammoniumhydroxide

2. Irritant poisons

(a) Inorganic:

Metallic - lead, arsenic, mercury, antimony, copper, zinc

Non-metallic - chlorine, bromine, iodine

(b) Organic:

Vegetable - croton oil, castor oil

Animal - snake venom, scorpion venom, spider venom

(c) Mechanical: powder glass, diamond dust

3. Neurotic poisons

Cerebral - alcohol, opium, barbiturates, benzodiazepines

Spinal - strychnine

Peripheral - curare

4. Cardiac poisons

5. Asphyxiants - CO2, CO

Poisons Based on Medicolegal Classification

Homicidal poisons - aconite, abrus precatorius, strychnos nux vomica

Suicidal poisons - opium, barbiturate, organophosphorous, organochloro compounds

Accidental poisons - snake bite, CO, dhatura's seeds as it resembles capsicum seeds

Abortifacient poisons - quinine, calotropis

Stupefying agents - dhatura, chloral hydrate

Agents used to cause body injury - corrosive acids

Cattle poison - abrus precatorius, calotropis

Used for malingering - semicarpus anacardium

Poisons Based on Toxico-analytical Classification

1. Gaseous poisons: methanol, ethanol, benzene, toluene, acetone

2. Volatile substances: ethane, butane

3. Organic Non-volatile substances:

Drugs - opiates and synthetic narcotics, sedatives and hypnotics, stimulants, depressants

Pesticides - insecticides, fungicides, herbicides, rodenticides, nematocides

4. Metallic poisons: arsenic, lead, mercury, antimony, zinc, copper

5. Anion poisons: bromide, cyanide, fluoride, hypochlorite, nitrate, phosphate, sulfide, sulfate

Poisons Based on Physical State

1. Solid: lead, arsenic, mercury

2. Liquid:

Organic - ethanol, methanol, chloroform, acetone

Inorganic - liquid ammonia, liquid sulfur dioxide

3. Gaseous: carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide

Poisonous Fumes or Gases

In the home, poisonous fumes can be emitted from the following sources:

A car running in a closed garage

Leaky gas vents

Wood, coal, or kerosene stoves that are not working properly

Mixing bleach and ammonia together while cleaning, which makes chloramine gas

Strong fumes from other cleaners and solvents

Common Household Products

Oily hydrocarbon products are thin and slippery and can easily suffocate if the substances are drawn into the lungs when ingested. The products can cause chemical pneumonia by coating the inside of the lungs. Products that are required to have a safety lid include:

Baby oils

Sunscreens

Nail enamel dryers

Hair oils

Bath, body, and massage oils

Makeup removers

Some automotive chemicals (gasoline additives, fuel injection cleaners, and carburetor cleaners)

Cleaning solvents (wood oil cleaners, metal cleaners, spot removers, and adhesive removers)

Some water repellents containing mineral spirits used for decks, shoes, and sports equipment

General-use household oil

Gun-cleaning solvents containing kerosene

Oil products that are thicker and more "syrupy" are not as problematic, since they are not as easily inhaled into the lungs.

What to do if a poisoning happens

Swallowed poisons

Stay calm, act quickly, and follow these guidelines:

Get the poison away

If the substance is still in the mouth, make them spit it out or remove it with your fingers (keep this along with any other evidence of what was swallowed)

Do not make them vomit

Do not follow instructions on packaging regarding poisoning because these are often outdated. Instead, call Poison Help to get connected to a local poison center.

Take or send the poison container with you to help the healthcare provider find out what was swallowed.

Poisons on the skin

If someone spills a chemical on his or her body, remove his or her clothes and rinse the skin with lukewarm—not hot—water.

If the area shows signs of being burned, continue rinsing for at least 15 minutes, no matter how much they may protest.

Then call the poison control center for further advice.

Do not use ointments or grease.

Poison in the eye

Flush the eye by holding the eyelid open and pouring a steady stream of lukewarm—not hot—water into the inner corner of the eye.

If this is a child, you may need help from another adult to hold the child while you rinse the eye.

Continue flushing the eye for 15 minutes, and call the poison control center for further instructions.

Do not use an eyecup, eyedrops, or ointment unless the poison center tells you to do so.

Poisonous fumes or gases

If someone breathes in fumes or gases, get him or her into fresh air right away.

If they are breathing without a problem, call the poison center for further instructions.

If they are having difficulty breathing, call 911 or your local emergency service (EMS).

If they have stopped breathing, start CPR and do not stop until they breathe on their own or someone else can take over.

If you can, have someone call 911 right away.

If you are alone, perform CPR for 2 minutes and then call 911.

Be prepared for a poisoning emergency by posting the poison center telephone number by every telephone in your home.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

Writing Notes: Fictional Poisons