#it felt like there could be actual community

[felassan]

Notes from the June 14th 2024 Developer Q&A, from the official BioWare Discord

Under a cut due to length.

Please note that these notes are mostly not directly-transcribed quotes! It was a live session, so these were quickly-written cliff notes produced at pace. So if anything sounds weird or slightly off, it's almost certainly because of that and not because of anything a dev said. Corinne Busche, John Epler, Matt Rhodes and Community Manager Katey were the devs that were there.

Update: I have done another pass of this post to tidy up typos, grammar etc. :>

Update 2: If you would like to listen to the Q&A for yourself in video format, or listen to it again, Ghil Dirthalen recorded it and has now uploaded a video of it here. This blog post is linked in the description under the video. ( ˶´ ᵕ `˶ ) Also, I have done another pass of this post while listening back to the video, to tweak a few things and fill in a few lil gaps that there was. :>

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The session began. The first question was on which of the factions in the game the devs would like to belong to. The Antivan Crows have great fashion - Corinne said that we are going to love their threads. Corinne loves both them and the Mourn Watch. She said she would go with the Crows for fashion reasons, and her vibes-based answer is the Mourn Watch.

John's answer was the Veil Jumpers (for fashion + vibes both). “Who doesn’t like a walk in the forest, you know, even if that forest is filled with horrifying monsters and terrifying anomalies?”

Arlathan Forest is filled with horrifying monsters and terrifying anomalies.

The faction Matt would choose is the Lords of Fortune because "pirate-barbarian is just such a great combination of elements"; he likes that they are related to treasure-hunting, beaches, palm trees and everything like that. "It's a really good mix."

This game is a much more intimate experience, and in this regard the camera has been pulled in. The reason why is that the devs want us to feel like we actually are in this world, like we're walking these city streets of Minrathous, looking up, seeing the buildings all around you - "you're a part of this place". They believe that as the narrative unfolds, this creates a lot more immersion.

Since the question was about there being two companions, Corinne continued, "Now, how this relates to companions, we went back and forth on it a lot, but we actually found, with this perspective," having two companions really allows the companions to each have more visibility and presence. The companions are fully-realized, we will really see them shine. They did testing with their internal team and the Council of players as well [the Community Council] and found that when you’re playing in the combat system, when you’re planning strategies, two really felt like the right number to manage. Rook has a lot of different types of actions, abilities and individual attacks available to them as the PC - more than ever before - and the number of inputs we need to take when telling Rook and the companions what to do is also higher than ever before. Timing and position matter a lot in this game. With those things in mind, two companions in the field felt like the right balance.

Banter is still absolutely a core part of and big thing in DA:TV. There is global banter (the general stuff that we will get in all spaces) as well as mission-specific banter. If anything, this game has the most banter that they have ever done in terms of pairings of companions. They have added some interruptible and resumable banter too this time. John said, “You could not stop the writers from [writing banter] even if you tried”. Writing is one of the more light, fun things for the writers to do. They get to write little stories and arcs between different companions, and DA:TV is no different.

Corinne added: "John, listening to you speak, one thing that comes to mind, maybe people are wondering, with two companions in the field, do I get less interaction between them? Like, do I get to see my companions interacting in a broader group more often? And, the way you'll gather them around the kitchen table, there's just so many of those moments where they're all interacting with each other, those are some of my favorite parts."

They wanted to make sure that the companions had a life and relationships of their own outside of the times when we take them out into the field. "So we made sure that they had those interactions there as well."

They were asked about the customizability of Rook's backstory. Rook has 6 different backgrounds that you can choose from. Each of them is tied to one of the major factions in DA:TV. "Each one sets up who Rook was before they were recruited by Varric. Well that sets out the broad events. As you go through the game, as you have conversations, either with members of your faction, other characters, you can define not just what those events were but what they meant to you. What was your motivation, what was the kind of person you are as you build up Rook. Because again, we wanna make sure that roleplaying is at the heart of this experience, and taking Rook, giving them background to ground them in the world and then letting you decide what that means, what that says about you, is also a big part of it." "A lot of opportunities to really define who your Rook was and who they are now, so."

Q. Will crafting return? A. We can improve and customize our gear, that is a big part of RPG progression. "I will say though, it is different this time around, and it does get into spoiler territory so I'm gonna be a little bit cagey about it, but there might be a mysterious entity that assists you with that, that will be an important part of the narrative."

Emmrich’s skeleton Manfred is not "kissable" or romanceable, however, they added - “not that skeleton, but we’re not saying no skeletons”.

They have taken a different approach on how we import our decisions into the game this time around. This is now fully integrated into the character creator. The devs believe that this serves a dual purpose. Corinne said that she playfully thinks of it as ‘last time on Dragon Age’, though it isn't actually called this in the game. She noted that it has been ten years since the last Dragon Age game was released, so this aspect serves as a refresher on critical events as well as allowing us to remake those decisions that are critical to us. The system for doing this is very highly visual and uses the familiar tarot card aesthetic. "It’s a very visual and playful experience as you go through it." It was very important to them that this system was built into the client, so that you can play this game entirely offline. No online connection is required, no linking to EA accounts is required – this was a big fan request. Corinne added, “I don’t want to spoil anything by revealing what decisions you can import, but I will say that this [thinking about the decision import system and what decisions to include] has been a really interesting creative intersection for us, because on the one hand, this is a whole new adventure”. In this game we are in northern Thedas, in locations we have not been to before. This naturally affects "some of what will matter and what decisions they're not using this time around, as far as decisions. But obviously there are some very, very clear connections to existing characters." “It’s no secret that the Inquisitor is going to show up, so that’s a factor”.

The game only begins in Minrathous, it doesn’t stay there. “I don’t want to get into too much spoiler detail, but getting to go to and work with the art, narrative and design teams, to build out these locations that we've talked about", places in this game where characters in previous games came from and referred to in previous games has been really exciting for the dev team. We do start in Tevinter, but Minrathous is not the entire game by any stretch. "We've gone back to what we believe delivers the best, most curated, intense narratives." There is side content in the game, the locations can open up and we can go back and "solve mysteries" and things, but these are not fetch quests and they are not "grind content". The game is a very hand-crafted, mission-based, curated experience. The side content is really great. "The most important thing for us [on that], obviously we've talked about how narrative, story, characters are the most critical to us, and this has allowed us to build these experiences in a way that emphasizes that extremely well, tying into the story threads and the story beats."

Q. Will the companions have unique specializations? A. The "companions will have abilities that are truly unique to them, but also, they do fall into the archetypes of mage, rogue and warrior. For instance, because she has a bow, you might be surprised to hear that Bellara is in fact a mage, and I love that”. The bulk of the companions’ abilities are based on their own unique 'personality'. For example, Neve is the only mage that is an Ice Mage, so she has related abilities that are distinct to her, but because she is a mage she does have access to abilities that all of the mages share, like Time Slow. The devs are really happy with this balance, a good mix of representing their archtype, their class, and also their distinct "specialization or personality, whatever you wanna call it." “Each of these characters exists, each of these characters have a history, has a story of how they became who they were. Part of that was finding the intersection between narrative and gameplay”. They want to serve the needs of gameplay but also allow the characters to breathe as their own people both in conversations and out of conversation.

Healing spells return, and these are a part of the 'core mage kit'. "Your mages, you wanna make them a healer? Do that."

Q. Will DA:TV still have tactical combat? A. Yes, combat gets quite tactical. The combat system is an evolution of the previous combat system. The game has a robust difficulty system. Tactics are of increasing importance the higher up you go in the difficulty system. If you want a higher tactics experience, crank up the difficulty in particular. “I want to make sure I am super clear in my answer. Our pause-time tactical mode is not overhead. It stays close to Rook. It does allow you to cycle between targets both in and out of combat, there is a reason for that”. As the game progresses (we didn't see this in the gameplay reveal demo), it will display strategic information about enemies, such as what enhancements they have, what are they resistant to, what are their vulnerabilities, what are their elemental weaknesses. Our type of abilities, leaning into elemental gameplay, matters a lot. Also, tactical decision making also takes the form of coordinating abilities between Rook and the companions to create synergies or devastating (what they call) “detonation combos”. An example of this is that Bellara has an ability that is like a gravity well called Galvanized Tear. This pulls enemies together. You could use this to draw enemies in to one place. Then, Neve has a Slow Time ability. This affects the world around you but does not affect you. So you clump enemies up and then slow time. Then you could come in as Rook to do something like a devastating Area of Effect or Damage over Time spell or ability on the enemies that have been gathered up and slowed/frozen in place. The devs said that it is good to try and ensure that you have a few possible detonation combo synergies amongst your team that you choose to bring out into the field - so there is tactical gameplay while in combat, but also an element of pre-combat strategizing as you decide who to take. Also, the Wheel will tell you when there is a synergy combo available, remind you of those synergies between companions. You can queue both of those abilities up at the same time and when you pause out of the pause-time menu, they will both execute.

The enemies in Arlathan are “Fade-touched”, and they are vulnerable to lightning abilities.

Veil Ranger, one of the three rogue specializations, is one of Corinne’s favorites.

In CC, Rook’s pronouns can be chosen. You can select both pronouns AND gender, as as Corinne noted, these are related concepts, but actually not exactly the same thing. Rook can be non-binary. The pronouns available are she/her, they/them, and he/him. The Character Creator is very detailed and very deep. The team focused a lot on doing good hair and doing hair and skin tones respectfully. There is full body customization. They are going to show us a lot more on CC in the future, but at a time when they have the time and space to do so. The devs were asked about whether there will be a Photo Mode being in the game. They said that this is something that they are actively looking into. They know that there is a ton of interest in this. It is a feature that they like the idea of even just internally, as it is helpful for them to have this internally when they are building things out. They said that they will let us know about this when they can. "We are as geeked on that possibility as you all are."

On abilities: The Ability Wheel does have a capacity (as in number of abilities available on it). You have to choose which three abilities you want to bring for Rook, and what three for each of our two companions respectively. This creates emergent gameplay - you have to do that strategizing, building the combat kits before you go on a mission. The devs noted that while there are three ability slots for Rook, there is so much more than that on the Wheel. The Wheel has other things on it that we can perform directly from it. For example, on the Wheel Rook gets an "ultimate ability" that is associated with their class or their specialization. There is also a type of item we will get that will function like abilities, typically like buffs and enhancements, in the form of runes. These will be controlled for Rook and our companions from the Wheel.

We can choose what enemies our companions will target. Also, a lot of the companion gear really synergizes with that directing your companions. When you issue commands, that too will prock [sp?] based on the gear that they have equipped. "There is just so much from the Wheel, that once you get in and see everything working together, it becomes more and more apparent."

Fireball and Cone of Cold do not specifically return as spells in this game, but their successors do: Meteor and Frost Nova. These two abilities serve the exact same combat role and function as the previous two, only "with quite the glow-up", especially Meteor. It is “so satisfying nuking a group of darkspawn with a well-placed Meteor”.

On Accessibility features: They have spent a lot of time thinking about this topic so that we can play the game in a way that really works for us. They will go into this in more detail closer to launch when the time is right.

On the timeskip: John said “Anyone who's paid attention to Dragon Age, timelines are always a little iffy. They change and morph over development as we see how long events take. But for DA:TV we were actually pretty consistent since the start". It has been about ten years since the events of Trespasser transpired. "As you may have noticed, Varric has become a little bit of a silver fox." Solas’ Ritual has taken time to set up, and we are coming in at the end of that hunt [in the start of the game.]

They confirmed that Solas is still bald. Matt: “Solas is still Solas. I really like how Solas has turned out this time around."

In Thedas, ancient elves go bald when they’re like "millennia" old. So, Solas was not always bald. "So if you were to end up seeing what Solas looked like in the past, things might be a little different." What happened to Solas' wig from Tevinter Nights? John: "I'm sure he still has it somewhere. He's just taking care of it elsewhere, it's his most important possession."

On companions' appearances and outfits: The companions still have iconic color palettes and things like that, but they do have a wider range of appearances that we can find from them that they can have this time around (compare with Dragon Age II, where they always had the same armor and we could not choose how it looked). Some of the DA:TV companions' are just cool, but then there are some that are tied directly to their narrative and just kind've what's happening in their life. (In DAII, due to constraints, they had to keep the companions with just one basic outfit, and this was sad.)

Q. Will we see or go to Kal-Sharok? "I've been obsessed with it forever." A. Matt: "Yeah, me too. I will say, what's been really cool, so in previous games, we've kind've alluded to this before, it was a lot of fun to kind've hint at the locations that were off the map, the mysterious places that you weren't going, and so you could just kind've bring in some props, or some characters, a piece of art, things like that, you know, even Tevinter was only vaguely hinted at, and we would just add drips and bits and pieces. So that stuff was really fun. In DA:TV, we're actually getting to visit, like a whole lot of those locations that had only been hinted at for real, so you actually do run around Tevinter and a bunch of the other locations that we've revealed. But, this also means, like we're not completely throwing out the map, and so that there are actually new things that we can start hinting at, that we can start drip-feeding, and so, it's kinda fun. I'd say, yeah, for what we can show of Kal-Sharok, and other locations, there's more to do."

There are a number of different types of dialogue wheel in the game. All of the dialogue wheels are based off the same principle. In DA:TV, there are "tone wheels" (roleplaying your character and picking a consistent tone), "emotional wheels" (where you can pick specific emotional reactions), and "choice wheels" (which are, 'I don't have a strong emotional or tone tie here, but I do want to make a choice based on what I do'. The "Investigate" option also returns. They want players to understand as much as possible about what it is they are going to be picking on the wheel. "And understand, and again, choice and consequence is fun, we wanna make sure the choice is clear, even if, again, one of the best parts about consequence is making sure that's not entirely clear."

Q. How extensive are Rook's decision trees for companions and NPCs throughout the game going to be? A. "Huge. It's a Dragon Age game. We wanna make sure you have choices, we wanna make sure you can choose your roleplaying but also choose outcomes of conversations, choose how events unfold. We wanna make sure that we also react to decisions you've made. So, for example, you may be talking to a follower who is an elf, and if you yourself are an elf, obviously you're gonna have a different perspective on events than someone who is not an elf. Sometimes that means different conversation options. Sometimes that's going to mean entirely deep dialogue trees. As well as based off decisions you've made throughout the game, so. Again, making sure that the game feels like the it's noticing what you're doing is a huge part of how we've written out the dialogue trees in this game."

Each of the seven companions have full romance arcs and they are all romanceable by all genders. This does not mean that they are playersexual, and this fact is important to the team. The companions don't conform or twist their identities to who we as the player are, and they don’t suddenly have a preference for men or woman based on what we are playing. Instead, they have their own fully fleshed-out identities which they are true and authentic to. They are all pansexual in this game. They have their own histories of romance, and sometimes we will hear about their preferences and things of that nature from them. If you don’t romance them, they will actually build their own romances with each other. Taash and Lace is one of Corinne’s favorite companion relationships. She says that she has heard that the shipname in the community for this is "Laash". (Corinne pronounced "Taash" like "Tosh" or "Tawsh").

Q. What are the markings on the faces of Davrin and Bellara? A. "There are quite a few, easily more than we've done before I think, tattoos from various cultures. We're bringing the vallaslin back of course. There are a ton of different options, especially when we're going into all of these new regions. Each region has its own kinda visual language for that. But yeah, we are bringing the vallaslin back, and then a couple of the characters have them, but we've kinda customized them a little bit, they're a bit more specific to their personality."

"The depth and authenticity of the companions, journeying along with them on their arcs, learning about their hardships, what they care about, being by their side." Corinne said "they all feel like my dear friends".

Corinne's favorite thing other than the companions is the CC. "That CC, the makeup options, the range of sliders... I'm a qunari fan, so even just the way you customize the horns and combine that with the really great looking hair".

The art team worked very hard to make the story more visible around you in the game than ever. They really leaned into trying to make sure that every design, prop, characters, environment, VFX, that all these choices were putting the story on-screen. They wanted to put the story on the screen so that we can really see it all unfold. Matt, who has worked on all of the Dragon Age games, said that DA:TV represents one of the best attempts they have ever made at doing this.

This game contains "the deepest companion arcs" that they have ever done - not just in a Dragon Age game, but in a BioWare game in general. "Being able to work across all the disciplines, building characters who look and sound and behave in very specific and characterful ways." Each companion has their own story arc you can go through, decisions you can make. "They really do take center stage. As you play through them, you see the care and love that the team has put into each one."

There are moments in each companion arc that will make you cry, angry, excited.

John loves the way that the companion arcs integrate into the story as a whole. "Finding ways to bring these characters together. Finding ways to make this narrative, this story of, you need to put together a team and stop the end of the world, has just been absolutely exciting and thrilling, and again, you see the team's love in every single piece of it.”

DA:TV has been the highlight of John’s 17 year career in games. It has been part of his career and life for "literally the last decade and a half". He has worked on it since DA:O. "There's something about DA:TV that feels like an amazing mix of novelty but also familiarity, it's like coming home in a way that is going to be very exciting for people who are existing Dragon Age players. There's also so much here that's new and exciting for people, new players and old alike. Going to the parts of the world, seeing things we've never seen before, and just getting to take this amazing world and series and expand on it, and build on it in ways that, have just been honestly an absolute thrill."

There have been times in the companion arcs where, even knowing exactly what was going to happen, with some of these decisions, Corinne had to set down the controller, let out a heavy sigh and go, "oh my god, what am I going to do here?"

Corinne: “Can we just give a big shout out to the dev team? I am so proud of them. This team has poured their heart and soul into this. To anyone from BioWare who is listening in, thank you so much. Y'all are just the best”. John: "Absolutely. Here here."

Q. Why does Varric have dark hair now? A. Matt: "He has been adventuring for a while now." His hair is actually more gray than black, but he's been in very dark scenes so far. We will see him in more contexts.

The Inquisitor appears in the game in the flesh. The devs know how attached we all are to the Inquisitors and they have seen our love for our OCs. The Inquisitor can be customized, "include some of our new customization options". “Yeah, they’re gonna show up and they’re gonna be your Inquisitor.” John: “The story of Solas and the story of the Inquisitor obviously, are tied, they're tied together as much as any story, so it would have been strange for us not to bring them in for this one. They're gonna be a part of this story, so."

Right now, the team's focus is entirely on the quality of the game as it is so important at this stage – they are all-in, with all of their attention on finishing the game and on the quality of the game and the promise on it. They are 100% focused on making this being the most complete game that they can make it.

There are no microtransactions. There will be no battle-passes. You do not have to connect online to play. They want to make this "the most complete singleplayer game that they possibly can".

Armor transmog exists in the game. "Hell yeah." Corinne said that she is the kind of player that believes "fashion is the real end game". She said that there is a transmog system, and that it is sick.

Q. Are any of the characters explicitly ace, or on the ace spectrum? A. Corinne shared that she is gray-ace. “I will say though, that none of our companions this time around are explicitly ace. When we look at the characters, their motivations, who they are, we always assess, 'is this the right time?' This time it wasn’t. But what I will say for everyone on the ace spectrum out there, I would love to represent an ace relationship, some time in the future when it feels like the most authentic fit for a companion, when we can do it best."

Q. Can mage Rook do blood magic? A. “This gets a little spoiler-y, so let me just say, Rook has some pretty good reasons to avoid blood magic. Rook is not gonna wanna be interested in that. But I will say, the mage skill tree is packed with all kinds of spells, traits, and perks to give you a ton of flexibility in your magic."

One of the three mage specializations is "a necromancer one". Another was described as “an elemental one”. The third was described as being more like "a combat mage".

Davrin has already named the young griffon "Assan". "Assan is a very good boy." [Assan emojis flood the chat]

In Dragon Age: Inquisition, we had Skyhold. In this game our headquarters is called The Lighthouse. There will be more to be seen on this later. Narratively it serves kind of a different purpose to Skyhold and also the same purpose. The Lighthouse has elements that will change over time, and there are some things about it that we can adjust. “It definitely does start to feel very much like home over time”.

Q. Do pasta and noodles exist in Thedas? A. Matt replied by geeking out about worldbuilding. “DA:TV for us is a real dream opportunity to go places that we've only ever heard references to or seen hints at. And so, going through the worldbuilding process and trying to build these places out, not just as neat things from the IP, but also, if you've read about the stuff, if you've been following along, you've got your own version of it in your head, you've imagined what it might be like, and probably hoping for something spectacular, and our brains are always far better at creating this stuff than any game developer or any artist can really do justice to. So you really have to swing for the fences to make something very satisfying and exciting. That can be everything as big as architecture, landscape, biomes, ecosystems, but it does get into things like art, culture, costume design, and also food, and this time around we did, that was one of the many things that we did look into just to try and catch the character and the feel of a place, to make it feel believable and lived in. So, that's my really long answer for, yeah, I'm sure, at least one place does have pasta."

Mabari are not nearly as big of a thing in the north of Thedas as they are in the south. Sadly, in DA:TV we will not get a mabari (but to be fair, we have a griffon!!) And he can be PETTED! “I have actually hugged the griffon”. There is lots of opportunities to interact with the griffon. "Can we see Assan in chat if we wanna see him in The Lighthouse hanging out?" [Assan emojis flood the chat] "This was so important to the team, too, this is the team's, like, just huge support for this feature, so props to them."

We will get to see the Character Creator before launch. "They are laying out a roadmap for what we are going to show and when we are gonna talk about it. So, yes, you will see it, as we get a little bit closer to launch."

In CC, the body customization can be done for humans, elves, dwarves and qunari. Qunari hair options and horn options are rad. They acknowledged that it was hard to have nice-looking hair for qunari in DA:I.

"Related to this, your Lineage (human/elf/dwarf/qunari) gives you a lot of really unique dialogue options, so that's a really lovely aspect of choosing your lineage as well." "Each lineage, depending on the lineage you choose and the background you choose, there are some specific call outs to. For example, if it's the Mourn Watch, them being a faction from Nevarra of mages, obviously your experience as a dwarf there is going to be different than say a human or an elf, so, there are also specific callouts tailored to those combinations with again, the intention of giving each lineage their own little flavor as to how they fit into that faction as a whole."

Barkspawn/Dog is safely gnawing on a bone somewhere next to a fireplace in Ferelden! Don't worry, he is fine. Mabari live exactly as long as you need them to.

"Rook's last name is defined based on their faction, again, we wanted to tie that into your backstory, but also, there's a name generator that can give you a selection of first names. Obviously if you want to make your own first name, that's definitely something we support as well." But if you always struggle during CC and name all your characters like 'Bob' or something, you're gonna be okay thanks to the name generator.

The Voice Actor cast are very talented. They devs are super excited to talk about them more over the summer. They are not quite ready to announce their names yet.

Q. Will there be a Collector’s Edition? A. They will talk more about the different editions of the game that will be available soon.

Q. Will tavern songs return? A. There are tavern songs in the game, and they are pretty great. They said huge props to the audio and performance teams that made these.

There is a little tavern in Minrathous called The Swan. The song that you hear there is great, and is probably Corinne's favorite.

More information on the required PC specs will come soon.

They are not quite ready yet to talk in specifics about the music. But in broad-strokes the process of creating the music is always the same: working with the composer, figuring out what the themes are, working out what kinds of elements they want to keep, working out what specific elements they want to tie to specific characters. It is a really in-depth and collaborative process. The team have great audio and music people. They want to make sure that the music feels like a cohesive part of the game experience.

On the narrative themes of the game: “What you start with [when setting out to create/write a game] and where you end up aren’t always necessarily the same. Sometimes you start writing out a theme, you realize actually it's more interesting if we attack it from this angle or maybe if you twist it a bit." This has been true for all of the DA games. “For DA:TV, one of the biggest themes has been how regret shaped peoples' lives, how people deal with their regrets, how people maybe move past their regrets.” Each of the characters, the stories as a whole, have elements of this tied throughout. They really wanted to have this thematic cohesiveness to the game's story.

The world reacts to Rook’s lineage and backstory. There are unique dialogues or conversation options based on backstory and lineage.

There are glorious, fantastic dwarf beards. "I don't know what magic the character art team did with the beards", but they feel/look like how beards should.

"If you go against a companion’s wishes or make decisions that they don’t like, you can piss them off, they might not agree with you and they will take some time away. That said, this is the biggest threat to Thedas we've ever seen, so they, they're always gonna be willing to show up to defend Thedas, but yeah, you can piss them off and they'll leave for a minute. As it relates to them showing up to defend Thedas, well yeah, they will, unless..." John: "No spoilers Corinne."

“The things that we have enjoyed, the things that shaped us, show up in these characters”. "I don't think that any characters have what I would describe as, this [thing] was a direct reference."

Q. Why is Harding a companion? A. John: “It was impossible not to see the love that people had [in the Dragon Age: Inquisition era] for our murderous girl-next-door dwarf. She has always been a fan favorite. But I think beyond that, it's something that Harding's writer wanted to explore, there was more story to tell there, more perspective. And beyond that, Harding obviously has a strong connection to Solas, Varric and the events of the past ten years. I wouldn't say that it's always been, but I'd say that Harding's one of the first ones that we settled on, that this is a character that we want. And her writer had a story that they wanted to tell with her so, it just made sense." Matt: “It's not a huge part of her character but, she tends to be one of the people that have the most insight into Solas, who he was." John: "It also provides you with that little bit of perspective. Who was Solas, what kind of character was he? Using characters to provide windows onto the world is one of my favorite things.”

They want to make sure each quest provides a perspective on the world and the characters, and feels obviously and immediately relevant to what you are doing. "Narrative and narrative heft". We are trying to save the world. “We really wanted to make sure that these quests were something that you”, someone who is trying to save the world, would think is important or worthwhile to do when faced with the end of the world. Everything is hand-crafted and intentional. We aren’t going to be "gathering Shards in the Hinterlands"; everything is built with intention and a dev lovingly crafted the experience. They heard loud and clear previous feedback on this. There are quests of all sorts and sizes, but all of them share that kind of 'this is the kind of thing that The Veilguard would do', especially when faced with the end of the world. "We spent a lot of time listening to what y'all said."

Q. Are there any locations in the game that can only be accessed by making specific story choices? A. "This does start getting into spoiler detail. But I will say that" locations can fundamentally change based on decisions we make. For some of the parts of the world that we will go to, the choices that we make have an impact on how these spaces exist and develop. “Don't want to get to into story spoilers, but your decisions do impact how the world shows up”.

If Rook gets knocked out during combat, we will have to reload our saves unless we have invested in companions’ progression and what they can do (they can be specced out to be able to revive Rook, if you have invested in their progression and what they can do).

Q. “Will Solas still occasionally or dramatically speak in iambic pentamer?” John: “Massive kudos to Patrick who always writes Solas so well. Solas is a returning character, it’s the same Solas you know and love or hate depending on who you are, the same writer. So the answer is, yeah, it’s Solas”.

The decision of who was left behind in the Fade in Dragon Age: Inquisition does not show up in DA:TV. However, this does not mean that it will be a decision which will never be important in future. "Not for this one, though."

There are no mounts. “Mounts addressed a need in Inquisition that we don’t have in DA:TV. You’ll see why when you get to play”.

On sidequest design – they are all hand-crafted, all story-focused. “Narrative is so much at the core of DA:TV, and anything other than hand-crafted quests just felt like it would be a disservice to the game we were building”. There is no mechanic in DA:TV like Power in DA:I, there is no mechanic that blocks your progression until you fill a bar. “You have the autonomy to engage in these quests as you like, there is no 'grind-out gates' before you can progress”. “We want to make sure that doing this content feels as natural and part of the logical flow of the story as possible”. They acknowledged that Power was a divisive mechanic in DA:I.

Q. Are there War Table missions? A. “We haven’t talked much about the player’s base, The Lighthouse. We will save that for now. The Lighthouse, your headquarters so to speak, has its own unique purposes and functions this time. This is an area that we will leave for you when we talk more about The Lighthouse.”

Dual-wielding (they wanted to bring it back) is back as part of the rogue kit this time. Warriors are focused on mighty two-handed weapons which have a real heft to them when swung. (Warriors can also use sword and shield). The amount of hits rogues can get in in rapid succession is really satisfying – dual-wielding is the providence of rogues this time.

John: "The thing that keeps me sustained is just knowing that the game we are building is the right one, knowing the pieces are coming together." They mentioned “knowing just how much people care about this franchise, care about these games”. They are excited for when people can see the fantastic work the team has been doing, they think people will be excited when we get to see it. This game is huge. John gets pleasantly surprised on a daily basis even today and is always amazed by the awesome stuff the team has done, how good it looks etc. Sometimes he spends an hour late at night watching the work come in, watching the cutscenes come, watching the work coming together, it etc and is blown away by the work like 'holy smokes'. Corinne said “Speaking on behalf of the dev team, everyone is working so hard, putting so much passion and of themselves into it, this is a franchise the team really loves. Seeing everyone’s support, cheering us on, has meant a lot to the team, I want to say thank you to all of you.” They are working on a way for the Q&A to be immortalized somewhere for us so that the info does not disappear into the ether. "Stay tuned". John hopes this was the first of many of these opportunities to talk to us directly. He is really excited, and Corinne noted that how much Dragon Age means to us is wonderful. "It's wonderful to see you all excited and invested. Thank you again, truly."

Session ended.

[source: The dev BioWare Discord Q&A on June 14th]

Update: If you would like to listen to the Q&A for yourself in video format, or listen to it again, Ghil Dirthalen recorded it and has now uploaded a video of it here.

[nvuy]

hello regarding that small jing yuan ramble you wrote. um. you're literally cooking w it. the money i would pay to see you write it is insane 🫡

thank you for your contributions to the hsr community. you are a godsend girl (｡- .•) <3

SOS — jing yuan

summary. you grow sick, and lo and behold, it’s not actually from your pathetic pining over the general of the luofu, but something else.

notes. based on this. five people asked for it. i want to lick a bold stripe up this man’s chest. All Hail Jing Yuan.

warnings. 16+ as it may be mildly suggestive, heliobus possession, injuries, blood, vomiting (not a kink. you’re just sick), a literal exorcism, and you and jing yuan get it on on some random park bench.

You had been sick for a while. Maybe a week, now. First, it had started as a simple cold; blocked nose, sore throat, weak bones. 

But now, even after a trip to the doctor’s to retrieve some medicine to at least soothe the persistent ache in your throat, the cold was growing worse and worse. 

And today, you were convinced that whatever illness you had wasn’t just a simple cold. 

Your stomach is twisting into knots, and there’s an incessant panging in the back of your skull. 

At first, you tried to ignore the pain. You had a report to write up that was expected by a coworker by the end of the day, but you were only growing sicker by the minute. 

This had to be the worst day of your life.

Worked to Hell, stressed, your hair was a mess, there was a toothpaste stain on your shirt, and you were sure one of your socks was inside out. 

The Master Diviner had noticed your state first. As soon as you walked into the doors and sat down, she passed by your desk, placed a small pile of papers before uttering a quick, “are you sick?” 

She did it out of concern, but all it did was knock your confidence down into the negatives. 

And now, you had an even bigger issue hovering over your shoulder. 

“You look unwell.” 

Your head shoots up from your desk, and the holographic screen fades out of view when your hand slams over the gadget. You’re sure you just ruined half of your report; you don’t remember the last time you saved. 

When you push back your hair, two pairs of golden eyes are peering down at you. 

Uh oh. 

“Uh–” Your face was burning, half out of embarrassment, and also because he was so close to you. You could feel your face instinctively scrunching up to keep the tears at bay. “Sorry, General.” 

General Jing Yuan offers you a small but concerned knit of his brows. A hand presses to your forehead. “You’re running hot.” 

“No, no…” You were not getting sent home. God you needed the money right now. “I’m fine. Thank you.” You move away from his hand and try to turn your burning face from him. 

Your head felt wrong. You felt dizzy. 

Your mother was bombarding you with messages begging you to come help her at her restaurant, your father wouldn’t stop asking you to come home because he missed you, and you were swamped with work, and nothing was coming together, and now you’re sick– 

“Mmm. I’m afraid I don’t believe you,” General Jing Yuan presses. “You look as though you’re about to pass out.”

You shake your head slowly, cautious of the migraine pulling behind your eyes. Crying won’t help the migraine forming, idiot. “I need this pay, sir.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

Oh, good Gods. 

The playful smile he sent your way almost made you melt into a puddle onto the floor. 

You always wondered how soft his hair was. 

You want to say more. You want to tell him not to worry; you’d worked through worse. For the amount of sick sessions you’d had in these bathrooms, the last stall on the second floor bathrooms of the building practically became your second bedroom. 

You also want to lean forward and taste his lips. But, for one, that’s sort of unprofessional, and two, he doesn’t even know your name. You’re also sure you look like an absolute mess, and a complete turn off. 

You shake your head again, but when you try to stand up, you wobble. Jing Yuan rests his hands on your shoulders to keep you steady. 

You can’t tell if you’re spiralling into hysteria, or if your body’s actively trying to fight the worst flu of your life. 

“I’m sorry, I–”

Absolutely humiliated, you burst into tears. 

You try to muffle it so as to not disturb any of your coworkers. 

You’re desperately trying to find a dry spot on your sleeve to wipe your tears, but surprisingly, the General hums sympathetically and swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes. 

Then, he reaches over the desk and shuts off the gadgets, collects your bag, and hands it to you. 

“Go home.” There’s a gentle flutter of his lashes. 

Your face is still burning when you bow your head. You can’t disobey him. The Master Diviner was your boss, but he’s even above her. “Yes, sir.” 

General Jing Yuan escorts you to the door slowly, and winks at you on your departure. “Rest well.” 

You’re more convinced your face is burning because he touched you, more than how your skin feels like it's being melted from the inside by a growing fever. You promptly ignore the strange looks you get while you sob all the way home. 

ೃ༄

Your sob session had left you feeling worse, and you’d promptly been sick in the toilet as soon as you made it to your home. 

You’d tried to swallow pills to ease the headache growing behind your eyes, but you couldn’t even stomach that. 

For a while, you had shivered in your own sweat on the bathroom floor. It was disgusting. You had planned to call a doctor, but it was way too late for any clinics to still be open at this hour. 

It was dark when you got home. 

After what seemed like an hour, you garnered enough strength to peel off your clothes and scrub the sweat and grime off of yourself. The steam of the shower was only relieving for a moment. As soon as you step out, you feel dizzy all over again. 

But, you’d made a mission to get changed, brush your teeth at the very least, and try to sleep it off. 

You manage to pull on something more comfortable. You try not to move too much. You can feel acid sloshing in your stomach with every shift of your arms, and you want to teeter over and empty your guts again. 

You hold out long enough to feel weakly for your toothbrush. Your face is somewhat clean, disregarding the tears that silently drip down your cheeks—you know that crying is doing the opposite of relieving your headache, but you can’t stop yourself. 

You rinse the taste of sick from your mouth and lean against the cool bench to soothe the heat surging through your body. 

When you look up, you blink and catch something in the mirror. 

Maybe you were just staring in the mirror for too long. 

Not only had your face warped into something hideous, but there was now something green floating behind your ear. 

It looks like a wisp, lime and yellow, like a spirit. 

You slowly turn your head in the direction of it. 

There’s nothing there. Your eyes meet the wall of the shower instead. 

You try to reach out a hand to it while staring into the mirror, but you feel nothing. 

“Sweet.”

You jump back. 

Your fingers twitch just before the reflection of the orb. It’s like a ball of green flames lingering by the side of your head. You feel no aura, no heat radiating off of it.

You scrub your wet eyes with the heels of your palms. 

Still there. 

Your eyes then narrow suspiciously. It does little to help your headache. 

If you didn’t feel two seconds from collapsing, perhaps you would’ve been more alarmed. 

You try to reach for it again. 

Your fist twitches forward and it slams into the mirror. 

Not only does white hot pain peel up your arm and split your knuckles, but the glass shatters into pieces. It falls to the floor and embeds in your skin, and you’re sure the wound will scar. 

You don’t find it in you to scream, because the pain is so far away you don’t feel like you’re inside your body anymore. 

It’s a ghost. 

Oh, Aeons, you’re being haunted by a small cloud. 

Briefly, you worry it’s one of your passed grandmothers, or her grandmothers. They'd probably reprimand you for being single and pining after a dude that was like hundreds of years old. 

The spirit’s voice is unfamiliar until you recognise it.

It’s yours, and it's coming directly out of your mouth. 

“I’ve been here a long time, y’know?” Your brain buzzes with confusion. Are you speaking? Not really. But you are speaking. That’s your voice—did you always sound so obnoxious? Ew. “You just haven’t noticed.” 

You exhale shakily. You try not to cry, but tears pool down your face anyway. The pain in your head grows worse. You’re sure your brain is splitting in two. 

Blood drips from your hand and onto the tiled floor.  

“It hurts less if you let this happen. Assimilation is usually easy, but with you, not so much. You’re very stubborn.” 

Oh, great. More insults. Just what you needed. This sucks. Your work is overdue, your pay has probably been cut accordingly, and now there’s a ghost in your body and ruining your house. 

You blindly try to touch the spirit again. 

Your hands don’t move.

“What are you?” That’s you. You know it’s you. Your voice wavers. It’s less confident than when the spirit speaks with your mouth. 

“I am your desires. A fruition of your every thought and being.” The flame continues to burn. It lets you take a little bit of control. Your fingers phase through the reflection of the spirit in the mirror. “And you are delicious.” 

The implication was there, but all the statement made you feel was disgust. Your body involuntarily shudders, and the flame hums in confusion before you stiffen once again. 

Your hand is bleeding. There’s red pooling all over the bathroom bench, but you still cannot feel the throbbing and the glass protruding from your skin. 

“You are sweeter than other humans. Like sugar.” The flame feels warm close to your skin. “I realise your kind calls it ‘attraction.’”

Oh, my God. The stupid soul knows that you lay awake at night thinking about this man that barely knows you exist. 

This is embarrassing. 

You can’t even will yourself to cry, so all you can afford is to blink stupidly. 

And why are you now thinking of how he smelled when he touched you when there’s a literal ghost with a vendetta taking over your body? 

You need to get your priorities in check. 

Your fingers twitch with disobedience. Your phone sits untouched on the counter. The screen is covered with shards of glass and smudges of water from the faucet, but you know you can reach it. If you try hard enough. 

Come on. 

Your index finger twitches again.

The ghost is going on a tangent about your boring little life and your boring little crush on the General. 

You can’t bear to listen anymore. 

Your hands spring to life and you pounce for your phone. It’s not exactly in vain, for you do manage to withstand the pull of the spirit and the pain that returns to your hand and your head as you open your messages and swipe over the first contact you see. 

It’s Madame Fu, much to her misfortune. You’re too desperate to consider yourself a burden. 

Considering the time, she’s most likely getting things sorted to close the building. The last message was an automated message of your pay being sent to your account from last week. 

“What are you doing?!” the spirit shouts. It bounces inside of your head like a bullet has fired. 

Your trembling fingers swipe over your keyboard. 

You procure a melodious string of poetry as a result. 

You: HEPLP IRMB

Your head is pounding. You’re sure you’re about to throw up. A dizzy surge spears behind your eyes. 

You: BOSS I NEEDYRLURHEL P

The phone drops from your hands as soon as your thumb cards over the send button. You notice the messages send through before your eyes wordlessly snap to the mirror and you stand ramrod still. 

Once again, you’re a passenger beneath your own skin. 

When the spirit takes over, the pain dissipates, and the fearful tears that run down your cheeks quickly dry. 

After a moment, the spirit calms itself down. 

“I’ve grown so impatient with you. You’re boring. You’re lucky your emotions are so delicious, otherwise I would’ve abandoned you a long time ago.” You don’t consider yourself lucky. If anything, the ghost should consider itself lucky it gets to rest in your warm soup for a brain. You’re sure every working brain cell has fried to a crisp at this point. “You’re so sad and miserable. How’s about I help you get your life back on track?” 

You want to ask why. You’re sure it has better things to do than play wingman. 

But, you stare at the soul fluttering beside your head with wide eyes. Your chest heaves with worry. 

How you haven’t succumbed to cardiac arrest yet is beyond you. You would’ve patted yourself on the back for remaining so strong about the situation; but you suppose you’re sort of cheating. Not being in control of your body probably means that if you were autonomous, you’d be on the floor sobbing over your injured hand, the broken mirror that would cost a few hundred credits to fix, and the fact that General Jing Yuan actually put a finger on you today. 

Oh, and also there’s a ghost haunting you. That, too.

“This is my body now.” 

Yep. You definitely needed to get your priorities in check. 

You were beginning to feel woozy. The smell of copper hit your nose, and your stomach turned over itself four times. 

“Now. Let’s fix this face up. You look dreadful.” 

Thanks. You’re not sure if you can speak to it, but your voice radiates a laugh much unlike your own. It’s more of a short sweet cackle than anything. Somehow, the ghost is able to navigate and use your phone’s camera to clean your face properly. 

It ignores the blood oozing from your knuckles, choosing instead to curiously open drawers until it stumbles upon a bag full of makeup. 

All of this expensive stuff you’d splurged on last year. You will your breath to remain somewhat of an even pace.

You’d have a breakdown over this if you manage to survive before the spirit decides to throw you off a cliff later. 

You feel like this ghost is more suited to be your therapist, ironically, with how it mumbles in your voice about how you could present yourself much better if you got out of bed earlier every morning and cared about yourself. 

“You know… that old geezer likes you, too.” 

Your heart stops. 

Then, there’s a cruel snort that leaves your lips right after. 

If you could scowl, you would have. Don’t let it get to your head. It’s lying. It’s trying to get a rise out of you. And it was working, too. 

You didn’t even realise your feet were moving towards your closet to fish out something suitable to the ghost’s tastes.

This was going to be a long day. 

ೃ༄

A long day did not entail you stumbling back to the workplace because the ghost didn’t know how to handle the pain of fancy shoes. The brickwork of the roads were uneven towards the entrance, and you almost trip onto your face. 

“Where is that man?” 

This was awful. 

You wanted to die on the spot. 

“He can’t hide from me,” the ghost informs you. At least, you think it’s speaking to you. “I can taste him.” 

You want to ask what he tastes like. 

The ghost seems to understand your silence. “Humans call it ‘cinnamon.’” 

Oh. Yum. 

You grimace. Inside your head. This was confusing. Your body feels like a suit being worn by someone else. It’s weird. It’s wrong. It’s almost violating. 

You feel as though you’re witnessing everything through a screen. You cannot feel anything; not the snug of the clothes you’re wearing, or the wind on your skin, or the pain in your feet from the shoes. Nothing. 

All you can do is watch. 

You wish you couldn’t have. 

This is so painful. 

“General!” 

Oh, God, that’s your voice. And you’re moving very briskly towards a large figure who’s stopped to acknowledge you. 

He seems barely taken aback when you stumble and fall into his arms. 

You’re way too excited pushing hair from your face that the General has to cock his head to the side for you to acknowledge him.

His eyes have widened significantly, and the grin on his lips is awkward, to say the least. “How are you feeling?” His hand presses to your forehead again and draws back quickly. “You’re still hot.” 

“Thank you, General.”

He lets out something akin to a snort. 

This sucks. You’re like a vessel, and yet you’re sure your face is still burning at the proximity.

Oh, this is so embarrassing. 

You realise you can sort of smell him. It’s so light, though. 

He really does smell like cinnamon. You had never noticed it before. It’s faint, as if he hasn’t chosen to top up his perfume from the morning, but it clings to his uniform nonetheless.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asks worriedly. 

You realise he’s the only thing holding you up. 

You try to cry for help. 

Nothing but a pleased giggle escapes your throat. You realise there’s a burning in your chest. You figured it to be your heart giving out on you—you’d take death over the embarrassment that washed through your veins. 

Your wishes did not come true. 

General Jing Yuan peers behind you for a moment, watching where you came from. 

Are you trembling? You can’t tell. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks again. His grip on you has tightened. 

You try to say no, but instead you blurt out, “I’m good– great, actually. Since you’re here.” 

This was horrible. You want to sink into the floor and never be seen again. There’s a cackling in your ears, and it’s your voice. 

“Shall I bring you to a medic?” 

You slowly shake your head. 

“Do you need an escort back home?” 

Oh, boy. You manage to weakly shake your head again. It’s all you can muster. Your voice isn’t working. It’s not yours. You were also afraid you’d try to drag him inside your bedroom if he did walk you home. 

He brings you over to a seat and helps you sit. Your legs are bouncing all over the place and you can’t find it in yourself to sit still. Your eyes are flitting left and right and up and down trying to locate the source of the voices you’re hearing swarming your head. 

A hand touches your cheek. You instinctively lean into his palm. 

“You’re bleeding.” And he’s touching your hand. You may as well have fainted there. 

“Flesh wound,” you say. 

Jing Yuan’s grin turns crooked. “I commend your bravery, but this may require stitches.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really nice eyes?” 

Here we go. The cackling was growing worse. You feared your head would explode before your pounding heart would. It felt as though it was shattering your ribcage as it thumped. 

The General tilts his head. Loose curls of white follow. 

You’re so relieved he sat you down. Otherwise you would have fallen to the floor. 

“Really nice,” you repeat. “Like sunshine.” 

Jing Yuan looks at you strangely. “Charming, aren’t you?” You’re busy admiring the shadows that his lashes cast over his cheeks. 

Your heart melts. You are so ridiculously down bad it hurts. 

You’re sure he can see your cheeks burning. That’s involuntary, too. The spirit inside of you seems equally confused. 

Good. If it wants to embarrass you, you’re going to cook this thing from the inside out with your body heat. You hope the fever boils it alive. That would be cool. Deserved. 

And if you lived, you get to tell your future grandchildren how you bested your vengeful ancestor because you had a fever and it couldn’t withstand your body temperature. 

The spirit’s confidence in your body, however, does not waver. 

You can see a glint in General Jing Yuan’s gaze. His eyes loiter behind you again as if he’s staring at something approaching. 

The spirit doesn’t notice a thing. 

“Well.” General Jing Yuan’s thumb traces over your cheek again. “If we’re playing that game, I will admit you look lovely tonight.” 

Oh, God. 

This is the best and worst day of your life and you’re barely experiencing it. 

You manage to garner some control, and only some because the spirit is most likely cooking in your body, but all you manage is the stupidest giggle from your lips. 

You hadn’t even realised how close he was. 

You’re delicious like this. 

He can’t be telling the truth.

You can’t believe it. 

You watch him get up, and you, wherever you are inside your head, feel a pang of disappointment in your stomach. 

“You should get to a medic,” he says softly. “Come.” 

If you were really in your body, you’re sure you would’ve swooned and quite possibly died right there on the spot.

For a moment, you’re sure that’s what the spirit inside you is trying to do. Your body teeters over and you stare at his shoes. 

Your arms jut out to either side of the bench, but you don’t stand. You witness your legs shaking and weakened ankles. 

You’re worried you’re actually going to throw up onto his shoes.

What escapes your mouth instead is a, “General…” in the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard in your life. And it’s in your voice, to make matters worse.

You feel yourself grimacing internally. 

General Jing Yuan quickly sits back down on the bench to steady you. You can hear him speaking, and he sounds concerned, but you can’t make out his words clearly. 

“Gen–” 

You feel dizzy inside your own head.

Yep. Heart attack. Definitely. 

At least you’ll die in this man’s arms. 

But, no. You don’t die. Not there. 

General Jing Yuan’s face is a blur in your vision, and his gloved hands are resting on both cheeks, still burning hot to the touch. 

Oh, you can still smell the cinnamon from his hair. So soft and subtle like it’s been dusted onto a nice scoop of ice cream. 

If you were here, and properly here, you would have sprung from the seat and taken off running. 

But, it’s not really you, and so your lips meet his hurriedly. You can’t see much because your eyes have shut, but for whatever reason you can feel, and there’s excitement that grows in your stomach in a pool of humiliation when his lips move against yours.

Your fingers bury into his hair. Soft. So soft. You wish you could cherish the feeling normally, within your own skin and body, and truly feel his warmth as your own. 

Your lips are hot on his, and you feel his lashes flutter closed upon your cheek like a gentle kiss and swoop. His tongue tastes suspiciously of tanghulu, but that only drives you further into him. 

This is embarrassingly addicting. 

Your fingers decide to tangle themselves within his hair. Daringly, they venture further towards the silk red ribbon and dance around stray strands that had fallen free. You desperately want to pull at the silk and watch his hair fall to his shoulders, but you aren’t sure if your limbs are yours. 

His hands are so warm by your hips. And they’re so big, and you feel the bumps of the callouses along his palms and it makes your bones jitter apprehensively. 

You’re way too into this, but if you’re bound to be fired over it, you’d consider this worth it. 

The General seems to be enjoying it—and he is. He hums pleasantly against your lips, and his thighs are slipping further and further beneath yours as you pull yourself closer and closer. His grip is firm; not enough to hurt, but enough to placate you. It’s nice. He’s nice. 

It’d be even nicer if there wasn’t something screaming in the back of your head. You’re not sure if it’s you, or the spirit, or some other worldly being like your alter-ego, but whoever is in control of your body chooses to ignore it. 

Fever be damned, your arms swing around his neck. Your skin feels as though it’s melting against his, like hot wax dripping from a burning candlewick. Your chest presses flush against his, and you can feel a steadily racing heartbeat against your own. Warm and fluttering—not as quick as yours. You’re sure any quicker and it’s going to explode—but quick enough to notice, like a fast drumbeat. 

There’s a cold hand that glides along the centre of your back. 

You presume it to be his, but something kicks in your stomach when you remember one of his hand locks on your hip bone, and the other has travelled low enough to press gently against the expanse of skin just below your navel. 

You want it to travel lower. You bury the thought in the back of your head. 

The spirit breaks through, you think. You’re suddenly floating again, and maybe there’s panic there, because you can just feel, in the fleeting moments where you’re shut out again, that your body twists in his hold. 

From what you can tell, General Jing Yuan keeps you in his arms, and your lips against his. 

It’s cold. 

Whoever stands behind you must be blowing icy winds directly on your back, because you feel yourself shivering.

And then, you choke. 

Something firm pulls. Not on you, not on your hair, but something inside of you, and it almost hurts. It feels like a part of you is being torn directly from your racing heart, and surging cold fires into your veins.

It’s like ice crystallises into your blood and blocks your arteries, but the sensation is pulling and pulling and you’re growing breathless. 

That’s you in your body. You feel it. You’re kicking yourself for it, but you’re trying to fight in the General’s hold. You’re trying to turn around, to fight the shadows of four figures you can now see casted on the street. 

General Jing Yuan, still, presses firmer against you, and his hands have abandoned your hips to hold your face gently. It’s comforting, and you’re melting, but all the while, the sensation is growing worse behind you. 

You’re worried when you hear a snap, as if they’ve just reached forward and broken your spine into two.

Then, there’s one final tug, and you’re breathless. 

You drop fully into the General’s embrace. He’s less sucking your face off now, and more placing calculated soft kisses against your lips every few seconds. 

You feel boneless, like you’ve had your very own soul snatched from your body. 

But then, you blink slowly. And you realise you’re in your own body again. 

“Huzzah!” 

General Jing Yuan whispers assurances against your lips, and you only find the strength to hum in response. As he makes you even dizzier when his lips trail along the corner of your mouth, you test the strength in your hands.

You can barely make a fist, but it’s you curling your fingers into your palm. It’s surreal, but it’s you, and only you. 

There’s a girl's voice from behind you, and the iridescence of something a sickeningly familiar green and yellowish iridescence that reflects onto the concrete like water. 

“Alright! That’s another one down! Pats on the backs for everyone! Thanks for the help, General– oh.” 

Another voice chimes in. “Should we look away?” 

“This is amazing. Like watching a car crash,” a third says. 

The fourth sounds irrevocably terrified. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

There’s embarrassment there, but you only giggle against the General’s lips. You’re still exhausted, and you’re sure despite the outfit the spirit had dressed you in that you appear like a walking corpse. Especially in comparison to the General, but, if he’s into that you’ll take it. 

You later learn from the four that had practically violated you that you were possessed by something called a Heliobus. Sounded very not intimidating, especially when the smaller one with the ears had shown the spirit to you while it was trapped in a cage. 

You recognised one of them as Sushang, the busy little Cloud Knight girl. The third was a nameless Trailblazer from the Astral Express that had given you a fist bump for not passing out during the literal exorcism that they put you through.

Then, there was Guinaifen, who had accidentally live streamed the entire ordeal on her phone. 

All of it. 

You weren’t fired, no. But, The Master Diviner was furious, but more so at the General for his lack of professionalism and, well… ramming his tongue down your throat. 

General Jing Yuan, was, to say the least, very excited when you returned to work. 

You’d tried to ignore the entire thing. There were people offering you weird stares on the street, and the workplace was no different. You kept to yourself mostly, only picking up where you’d left off last week. 

And you were relieved you weren’t stumbling home and throwing up in the tub anymore. That had definitely been a week. 

You’re busy trying to finish off with editing official documents when a hand rests on your shoulder. 

You almost spring from your seat when you lock eyes with the General. Again. You almost smash your hand through the computer screen when anxiety riddles your bones. 

That’d leave a permanent scar. The General had been so kind to make sure your hand was patched up from when you’d shattered your mirror.

“General,” you greet quietly. “Good morning.” 

He smiles. “Just Jing Yuan, if you please.” He leans against the side of your desk. “It’s almost time for morning tea, so… I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me for a walk now.” 

You glance down at your screen. 

‘Morning tea’ was quite literally thirty minutes away.

You look back up at him. “Right now?” 

“Fresh air wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Sir, I’m already on thin ice as it is. Madame Fu will–” 

General Jing Yuan politely waves you off. “Everything will be taken care of for you. I’ll see to it myself.” 

You bite down on the inside of your cheeks.

Well. 

Slowly, and with uncertainty, you stand and dust off your pants. There’s a dumb grin on your lips. “General, I’m starting to think you might be flirting.” 

General Jing Yuan leans just barely closer to you and narrows his eyes playfully. 

You almost died. Still, though your voice wavers, you ask, “I hope you haven’t been thinking of me.” But you do hope. You really do. 

You reach down to turn off your computer screen, but you blindly feel around for the button, because you’re afraid if you look away he’ll disappear. 

He seems to understand. He tilts his head. “Maybe I have.” Then, he offers you his hand. “Come. We’ll walk and talk.” 

So, you go with him, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest when he only barely sighs in relief. 

(Madame Fu watches you both leave, twenty-seven minutes before everyone is scheduled on a fifteen minute break. 

She, at first, decides she’ll stop you both at the door, but it has been quite a while since General Jing Yuan has worn a genuine smile on his face. 

With a heavy sigh from her lips, she lets it go. 

But only for today). 

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊.𝐘𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You make a friend... A very... Spiritual one.

『Word count』 : 665

-> Genre: Romance, Thriller.  

Pairing: Poltergeist!Yeosang x Religious!Reader

[Warnings] : Death, Rituals, violence. Ghosts. Religion. Hints of romance. Witchy business, hehe. Cute little note passing? Yeosang is a little cutie. I swear, hehe.

Note : Just a little something, something for Sangies bday. I almost forgot to post this... so... whoops, hehe. ♡♡♡ Happy birthday, yeosang!!

Networks : @newworldnet @blossomnet

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I had an idea while doing some research. And i found something interesting, so i had a thought. What if one of the boys was this witch (I thought of Yeosang sinc it's his birthday and he would fit this so well arghhh).

-

Yeosang was the rival of a noble family that managed to wipe out his whole family. Through years of a family affair war and death on both sides, Yeosang was eventually caught by the noble family and put to death by being burned at the stake. They trailed him as a witch.. necromancer, in fact.

And he vowed to rue the day they took his life. Never screaming as they set him a flame. This angered the family. Wanting to cause the ultimate pain and show off their power towards the witch, they buried Yeosang facing down, performing the ritual of their church.

He shall not rest. Not move on. Find no peace. He shall forever walk this plane until the worlds dying breath.

Yeosang didn't take this too kindly, and of course, if the nobles wanted to play a game, he would play it also.

He picked them off one by one. Using his newfound power as an undead worlock. He set his plan into action, picking off each and every one of the scum in the noble family. He brought fear to the married couple that damned him, causing terror with every step they took. He was going to kill everyone around them first before he neared them. Letting them know they one day they will be next and they would never be able to stop him.

He wanted them to feel what he felt when they took his loved ones away. One by one. They were terrified and questioned, and then their death would arrive. They tried to hide their kids, shield them from their cruel past, but Yeosang didn't care for the young children.

Not even their eldest....you...or so he thought.

He enjoyed scaring them. All the kids, but he couldn't scare you. Throwing objects, leaving dead things around your room. Even setting your curtains a light. Nothing even caused a peep out of you.

You were different.

He started to watch you late at night. At first, of course, it was to try and find what might scare you. But he found something way more interesting than scare material... You were studying the brothers grimm in secret. A young christian reading the devils work.

Oh, how this intrigued him.

He spent many nights watching you try to perform small but effective spells. A good luck spell to help you on your test. A protection charm that actually seemed to work given he could no longer connect with you on the physical plain. To say Yeosang was impressed was an understatement. He was almost proud of you in a way.

Your parents had reached out to a priest about a haunting problem. And he had suggested salt around the house. But you didn't put any on your window like your parents had begged. You knew Yeosang watched you while practicing spells. You wanted to teach yourself in hopes you could communicate with him.

You would try to speak aloud, starting one-sided conversations with him. He would sit there at your desk, drawing with your lipstick on the mirror. This would make you laugh. You ended up finding a piece of paper on a pencil so he could stop ruining your makeup.

You had both grown an attachment with one another without even realising. Both finding comfort from your lonely lives.

And as months went by and Yeosang kept killing other noble relatives and spending his nights watching you. He found himself growing tiresome of death and more interested with you. The cruelness of it all... he was falling for a mortal.

And little did he know you were falling for him too.

[c0smiclatt3]

DAN HENG: "WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WERE A WORM...?"

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: x reader, established relationship, fluff, no warnings, dan heng is very clueless, march is here to save the day!

wc: 806

Dan Heng's answer is simple.

"That's a ridiculous question."

Maybe you didn't actually care at first, but hearing him say it like that just now did upset you, even if just a little. He said it so matter-of-factly, without even so much as lifting his head from the screen as he tinkered with the Express data bank, his expression impassive as he brushed your question off like dusting off his jacket.

You sit up from the couch you were lounging on and set your phone down. A frown crosses your face as you watch him hunched over his desk and you realized he assumed the conversation was already over.

It was a stupid conversation, yes. Some dumb question March said was an 'essential question' for couples as a 'test of love'. As with many internet buzzings March reported, you weren't terribly interested, but you decided to ask it anyway as an aside, maybe out of curiosity. You shouldn't be upset. But...

"... That's it?" You frown glumly. Judging from his relaxed expression, your disappointed tone does not register.

He speaks cooly. "The premise of the question is absurd. Worms do not communicate. Humans do not form love relationships with worms."

"But it would be me."

"No, it would not. It would be a worm."

Your frown pulls down further on your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Well that's not what you're supposed to say. You're supposed to say you would love me."

"So I'm supposed to lie?"

You are unable to contain your incredulous expression, reeling back just a little bit from the shock. His words felt like a slap to the face. You knew it was stupid, but you were a little offended. You shove your phone into your pocket and march toward the door, crossing his desk as you do. Your frustration only grows as he still does not lift his head, gloved fingers glued to his touchscreen. You let out an audible exasperated sigh to try to get the point across that you were leaving.

"Where are you going?" he says, looking up, but a blank expression on his face.

"Out."

"... Have I upset you?"

You decide not to answer his question and turn around, punching the button to open the door. You step out and shut it with a huff. Once in the hallway, you storm back to your room, bumping into March along the way, her phone keychains clinking against her candy shell-toned phone case as she lifts her head and notices the annoyance visible on your face. She stops and curiously watches you throw your room door open, flopping face first onto your bed with a groan, draping your arm over your eyes and squeezing them shut. You hear the rustle of her clothes as she pops her head in the door.

"March," you say gloomily, "what does the internet say about couples fighting?"

You hear her click her phone shut. "... It says they tend to fight about stupid stuff."

You nod. "... Sounds about right."

<<< 24 SYSTEM HOURS LATER >>>

Shortly after your conversation with March 24 system hours before, you heard her barge into the archives (much to the displeasure of Dan Heng), and give him an earful. You, on the other hand, jammed your headphones in and tried to cool off, counting the passing star systems to pass the time until you fell into a deep slumber.

Waking for breakfast you passed the archives room, the door uncharacteristically left wide open. Before you could pass through it you heard Dan Heng clear his throat, his way of getting your attention without having to outright say it. You slowly walk into the archives room, some residual frustration left over from previously, defensively crossing your arms. "You seem busy," you remark.

"... Entering new data. On - um - novel lifeforms." He nods to himself, as if affirming what he had just said, eyes focused on his screen.

"Really," though you sound rather unimpressed. It seemed his same old routine. Maybe he really never was going to acknowledge it.

"... Creatures from Melusthania. They are legless and armless creatures that burrow in the soil and feed off of decomposing fruit." You see his eyes flick over to yours for a moment, before they turn back down to his screen, feigning deep concentration and interest. He clears his throat. "I am... Um. Fond of them."

A beat as you process his words. Armless and legless... Burrowing in the ground... Feeds on decomposed green matter... A flicker of amusement crosses your face and you try not to laugh. "So worms. You are... Fond of... Worms."

He pauses, as if checking first in his head to see if he was saying the right thing. He turns to you, his expression looking as if he had never been more serious about anything else in his entire life.

"... Yes. Worms."

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: thinking of writing an epilogue to this hehe

[nayedoll]

Complicated

joost klein x reader

warnings: angst, friends to lovers, mostly fluff

︎ ˗ˋ P.S: this is the first time i write something and actually post it so ik its not the best but please be nice to me, thank u 💌_______________________________________________

The thought of you and joost being together as more than friends had never really crossed neither of your minds. Sure there were moments that felt intimate; when he’d play with your hair as you were laying down in the grass looking at him through squinted eyes from the sun or the way his fingers lightly brushed yours when he would pass you a cigarette.

But that was all it was. Through all the years you’d known joost, you kept ignoring any romantic feelings towards him until you would ‘get over him’ so as to not ruin the friendship between you. Besides, he seemed to only like you as a friend. And he did. Or at least he thought so. Truth is joost truly valued you as a friend, always excited to see you and spend time with you. But he couldn’t deny how beautiful you were, his heart fluttering whenever you touched him.

When a new guy, Daniel, joined the friend group, it was only then that Joost realized his strong feelings for you. Daniel had taken interest in you from the first moment, wasting no time in flirting with you and showing his intentions. You didn’t mind this, as it helped take your mind off Joost, leading Daniel on by laughing to his jokes and returning his playfulness despite being completely uninterested in him.

On the other hand, Joost’s jealousy was growing bigger by the day. At first, he felt annoyed when Daniel kept approaching you to steal you for a moment or when he noticed him whispering stupid jokes in your ear, making you laugh the way Joost once did. Before he knew it, he could only think about you, blaming himself for not realizing earlier and making a move.

He stopped talking to you as much and avoided hanging out with the friend group when you and Daniel were around. You slowly felt him growing apart from you, the thing you had always feared the most coming to reality; losing him. It was messing with your head, trying to figure out a reason for his behavior.

Three months passed with barely any communication between you and Joost. He was the only thing on your mind, his absence making you feel incomplete. And even though it was wrong and you knew it, you got with Daniel, using him as a distraction from the emptiness you were feeling.

A few more weeks passed filled with loneliness and many unanswered questions. But when your friend invited you to her 24th birthday party, you saw this as something to look forward to, sharing her excitement as if it was your own birthday.

Upon arriving to the party, you greeted your friend and joined the rest of the friend group with Daniel always by your side. As you were listening to whatever he was saying, you heard your friend speak up.

“Look who decided to show up!” he joked and you paused at the sight of Joost in front of you. He was wearing some baggy jeans with a black shirt and a big puffy jacket over it. His blonde hair still a mullet that you loved caressing whenever you hugged him. He smiled as he greeted everyone and turned to look at you. Daniel said something about pouring you a drink before leaving you alone, staring at Joost.

“Hey” he smiled softly. You finally came to your senses again, looking down awkwardly to avoid eye contact.

“Hi” you looked up again, forcing a smile but Joost could tell how much you were aching from your eyes. He was about to speak before you cut him off.

“I need a drink” you said abruptly and left. Your heart was beating really fast feeling a mix of emotions; anger, happiness and anxiety. You poured a drink, swallowing it quickly in hopes of the alcohol calming your nerves down. Throughout the rest of the party you hung out with Daniel and his obnoxious friends, avoiding eye contact with Joost whose eyes you constantly felt on you. Your head was spinning, not only from Daniel’s unfunny jokes but the multiple drinks you had had in the past hour.

“I’m going for a smoke” you mumbled and slipped away from Daniel’s touch, as he was arguing with his friends about some football game.

Stepping out into the balcony, the cold Amsterdam night breeze sobered you up a bit. You sat down on an old chair, now taking in the sounds of cars passing by and drunk teenagers laughing. It was somehow calming, making you forget about everything for a while. Pulling out a cigarette you searched for your lighter before realizing you left it inside.

“Shit” you muttered, your breath visible from how cold it was.

“Are you looking for this?” a voice coming from the balcony door made you flinch and look over to see who it was. Your heart stopped for a moment at the sight of Joost standing there with your lighter in his hand, as if he was waiting for your permission to come closer.

“Yeah, um thanks” you awkwardly took the lighter with his eyes fixated on you the whole time. There was an awkward silence before Joost spoke again.

“You kept it.” he smiled.

“What?” you asked confused.

“The lighter” he pointed at it and you looked closer noticing how it was the one he had once gotten you as a gift. It was red with the words “I love Joost” that he himself had engraved on it. The memory caused you to laugh, a sound he had missed hearing

“Are you here to smoke?” your expression softened as you looked up at him.

“Partly yes” he sighed as he rested on the balcony railings opposite of you, lighting his cigarette.

“Partly?” you inquired and he nodded “What’s the other reason besides smoking?” you continued knowing what was coming next. He paused for a second taking a puff on his cigarette before returning his gaze to you.

“I know I haven’t reached out for some time now” he started off reluctantly, “and i know it doesn’t change the way i acted but i just wanted to apologize and say that i missed you” he added, his tone genuine and regretful. You hummed in response, lowering your gaze trying to think of an answer.

“If you missed me so much then why did you do this in the first place?” you finally asked him bluntly, the alcohol taking over you. He didn’t answer and that made you even more furious.

“Answer me.” you demanded and he shook his head.

“You should go inside, Daniel might be looking for you” Joost said sarcastically and you got up from the chair, closing the distance between you.

“Why the fuck are you acting like this?” you questioned in a low but angry tone. “Daniel was there for me when you weren’t” you added.

“Yet you still don’t love him?” he laughed, turning away from you to not blow the smoke on your face.

“What do you know about love anyways? You ghosted me without any explanation and didn’t even think to text me once all this time. Did i even matter to you all these years?” your voice was firm compared to your teary eyes and trembling fingers.

“You don’t know shit about why i stopped talking to you, alright?” he calmly responded.

“Oh yeah? So why did you stop?” you mocked him.

He finally looked back at you, making you realize just how close you were, feeling his hot breath on your face. Your eyes immediately softened at his gaze. He looked down at your lips bringing his hand on the side of your face to softly caress your hair as he tucked a few strands behind your ears.

Your mind went blank suddenly feeling his lips on you. The kiss was passionate though still sweet and gentle, filled with love rather than just lust. His hands found your waist, desperately trying to bring you even closer than you already were as you were playing with his locks. He pulled out of the kiss and started pressing small kiss on your neck sucking on it and making you moan softly.

“Wanna get out of here?” he whispered.

“Yeah” you whimpered. He wasted no time in taking your hand and leading you outside through the many people dancing.

On the way to your house he constantly stopped to press you against any wall he found accessible, grabbing you everywhere and kissing you.

“You’re so beautiful” he would mumble over and over again making you blush. Then as you finally reached your apartment, he stopped you at the entrance and tucked a couple of hair strands behind your ears.

“What is it?” you laughed.

“Ik hou van jou” he spoke low and softly, his eyes full of love as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. You smiled and grabbed his hand firmly.

“Don’t ever leave me again.” you told him and he nodded before leaning in for another kiss.

[hidtired]

sooo what i you do a Daryl x reader where the reader and Daryl had a relationship before the whole outbreak but when the world went to shit, they got separated and they didn't find each other again until Daryl and Aaron are out looking for people and they find the reader in some sort of abandoned building and it's just a sweet reunion. Btw I love your reading and I have no idea what you mean by GRAMMER MISTAKES- LIKE WHERE- but I love ur work <3

That makes my dyslexic ass very happy. I reread my stuff so much and always find mistakes so I try!

Miles Away

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

“Things are never lost to you; you are lost to them. If ever in need of something that has lost you, simply stop hiding from it.”

6.2k words

Description: A last minute trip leaves you separated from your fiancé when the world ends. Years of travel inevitably returns you to him. But years out in the world causes change.

Your POV

An unlikely relationship to have happened between two individuals, but happened all the same. It was a shock to the small town at the time. Even years later the announcement of your engagement causing some ruffled feathers. You the sweet town girl and a rugged Dixon. You were often discouraged from people about Daryl. You had dated the man for around 7 years now. Even so, the people around you told you it was a mistake to go through with a marriage. How could you not do it? He proposed, something you thought he would never do because his parents. He put it simply, “I already see you as my wife. Guess it was bout time I actually made you that rightfully.” So you told everyone to respectfully mind their business.

Then the world ended. You were thousands of miles in the air at the start. Daryl having dropped you off at the airport. You sulked with leaving, becoming mushy about going to New Hampshire to see your dementia ridden mother for the most likely last time. She was getting bad and some family had gathered and deciding to pull the plug. You still remember the last thing you said to him. Tears in your eyes as he held you outside TSA. “I’ll be back in a few days. Then I’m turning that title of fiancé into husband the next I see you.” You felt him chuckle into you, “Yes Ma’am you will.” Expressing I love you’s and the last kiss before you had to catch your flight. This isn’t the first time you had gone to check on your mom. Daryl insisted on coming but he had a hunting trip with his brother and you didn’t want to ruin that. So you had told him no. Why did you tell him no.

The first community you were apart of was the airport you landed at. It lasted a few months, food was plenty for the time and there were weapons from security. It was the people who ended up getting everyone killed. Few disagreements here and there caused a split, factions of sorts. One group kidnapped a pilot to try and fly a plane back to their loved ones. The plane they took hadn’t been run or properly check since everything fell. So it crashed into the fence destroying a good part of the airport with it. The crash attracted a horde and quickly over ran the place. You had a few survivors with you from the airport until you had either lost or seen them all killed.

You headed south, back to Daryl. Miles and miles of land keeping you from Georgia. It was 2 years going on 3 now. You would come across community’s, some still going some gone. Finding less than great people on the road. So that leads you to now. Two wannabe cowboys trying to lasso you like cattle. A scar carved into there for heads the only odd thing about them. They spit out concerning threats and comments, “You can have my seconds when I’m done Bill!” A rope had caught tight to your ankle leading you unable to run. You almost tripped but held your ground. Before this encounter you’d been having it tough for a few weeks. You had barely made any distance in the time you had traveled. The frustration and despair and shit luck wore you thin. You had a gun, only one in the chamber. Leaving one for you if you needed it. About the only ‘cure’ there is nowadays.

You thrashed around trying to fight off the men. You were already covered in grime. They were trying to capture you, not kill. That changed when the gun came out. This alone helpless woman became not so helpless. You fired your only shot at the bigger guy. The smaller one still had the rope and tugged making you miss killing the other. It hit him in the shoulder sending him crying in pain to the forest floor. It was moments like these that made you zone out. Violence wasn’t something you had in you. But now something learned, you had been out in the world too long. Taking a life becoming a norm. You used to care, then you remembered why they were all dead.

The steadiness you felt inside didn’t translate to the out. You scream and yell promises of death. You had managed to grab the rope from your ankle and used it to strangle the man who tied it to you. You broke a few ribs of his while he slowly chocked to death. You had your legs around him while you pulled back at his throat, you had heard and felt a few cracks. The man you had shot watching in horror has he struggled to decide, fight or flight? He choose froze, big scary man having his power taken from him and he becomes a coward. Your incessant screams and yells stopped when he stilled. You focus back to the injured. He rambled apologies to you at your approach. It fell on deaf ears, spotting a large rock near him. You didn’t kill him with speed. You broke his leg with the rock, slowly moving up his body. He was long dead when you were done swinging. Blood splattered and dripping down you.

A frustrated and adrenaline filled scream released out of you. All your noise attracted the infected near you. You ran still with a rope tied to you. You found a small home that was overgrown and slid into it. The knife you didn’t realized you pulled out while running tremble in your hand. You slide down the old wall in the building. The regret to your brutality flowing over you. Killing was normal for survival now, but what you did was cruel. You took your time and did it in brutal ways.

You were twirling the ring on your finger as a nervous habit. Often times doing it for a sense of safety from the man who had given it to you. You thought about him most days. Either when you do something he himself had taught you. That time spent with him in the woods had you picking up little things from him in time. It is why you’re alive for as long as you were. But come closer to night time when you just want to roll into his arms and let the world cease to exist. To just talk to him and hear his voice. But you were no longer the person he knew, and that broke your heart more. The blood covering you, the mans and yours was a very big indication of that fact.

The dead must have saw you run off and tried to follow. The sound of a leaf crunching told you only one must have stumbled correctly in your direction. The quiet movement and lack of undead moans told you all you needed to know.

‘They must have had friends.’

Daryl POV

He was devastated knowing you were far from his reach. Blame for not going with you. It was your mother dying how could he have just let you tell him it was fine? That, “We will go to the funeral when that comes.” He was bitter and angry in the beginning. Then it was hope when he got to the prison with people he now considered family. Maybe one day he would find you again. Then the prison fell and reality seemed to hit him.

Acceptance came when he finally confessed to Rick of your existence. It was when they sat against that car after the night with the claimers. He broke when he told him he was his brother. A mention of Beth stirring the thought of you with it. He looked away from Rick taking a shaky breath, “I lost her like how… how I lost m’ wife.” Rick’s eyes widened taking in the information. Tears build in Daryl’s eyes before he steels himself, “Completely out of my control and yet… somehow was.” Rick understands the feeling, it turns out Daryl knew just that to. When he lost Lori, it was Daryl that helped hold things together. That sudden understanding knocked into him. Rick cautiously asked, “Are they both dead…?” Daryl looked out to the forest. He slowly shook his head, “Just gone.”

When Beth died it also felt like you died with her. The hope he always had that you were out there seemingly dying inside him. He knew the kind of person you were. He would kill squirrels and you would feed them. He knew you were far too nice for your own good. You had spent hours in the rain trying to lure a kitten from under the neighbors shed. Catching a cold so bad it stuck with you for a week. You were his fragile thing in the world he promised to protect. To not just keep you alive but keep your innocence. Whether you were dead or not you would have had killed something in you to live in today’s world. To not be able to protect you from anything felt like he failed you.

He still held a hope you went down peacefully. It had to be meaningful because your life had to be for something. He tried to do the same by giving his life for others. Most recently that person being Aaron. In truth he was ok with dying knowing there was a slim chance of seeing you once again. Things that reminded him that maybe it was better for you to have not suffered. With the horde and assholes he tried to help and others assholes destroying Alexandria’s walls. So now that leading them, him and Aaron tracking the few Wolves who fled. They knew Rick said not to go recruiting people. The distance yells and screams caught there interest. They still need to try despite Rick being jumpy and “taking no chances”. If they could only just make sure whoever was well then that was enough.

When they got closer to a woman’s scream, which sounded in between scared and angry, the dead also seemed to take interest into the noise. The yelling had stopped near when the shot went off, so finding exactly where this person was in the woods became harder. The sight they found was not what they expected. Aaron had held a hand to his mouth, “What the-“ The sight was gruesome, two body’s laid in the dirt. One unrecognizable due to being beaten to a pulp. The other had a walker chewing on its leg. The neck of the man purple. Daryl looked on at the sight with a scowl and went to put the near walker down. He took notice of the W carved into the dead mans head, “Well shit.” Aaron perked up as he watched Daryl crouch down to the man who was choked. Daryl turning gesturing with his head to the body, “These the assholes who fled.” Aaron walked and peeked to see a W carved into there forehead. These two were the last known of the group and they had seemed to died gruesomely, but not by the dead. Aaron turned to Daryl as a realization hit him, “Where the girl who was screaming?”

A unwelcome chill and uneasiness drifted in the air. A thick cloud of a sad thought, “M’ guess they must have attacked her and she shot big fella over there. Then ran from the walkers.” Daryl nibbled at his lip, his eyes roamed the surrounding, maybe a clue confirming the theory. Some blood caught his attention, then he noticed further that in a direction something was dragged through the forest floor. He pointed in the direction making Aaron turn. Aaron looked to have some kind of resolve, “Let’s make sure she is ok.” Daryl nodded while walking forward to track, “If there comes back with us I’ll try and talk Rick into letting them stay. Hell best we can offer is at least some meds, she did use a favor with those dick bags.” Aaron eyebrows scrunched, “Maybe that would help their case. I don’t like not being about to recruit people anymore.”

The trail Daryl followed lead him to a very overgrown building. It was clear the place may have been abandoned even before the fall. Daryl walked quietly, he gestured he would go around back and that Aaron should go in the front. Aaron crouched and made his way closer to the building while Daryl went to the back. The slow creak of the wooden door making it obvious he was there, Aaron had no stealth in him. So he knows if someone was in this place they knew he was here, he might as well make himself known. He gulped seeing a hand print of blood on the wall closed to the door, “I don’t want to hurt you. Just heard you screaming and saw the bodies of those men. Your not hurt are you?” His weight making the wood underneath him bend with every step. The place was silent, but he knew that someone was here if the blood trail wasn’t any indication.

It was sudden, almost like a flow of wind whipping behind him. A cold knife pressed to his neck. You had drifted out of the dark from somewhere stunning him in shock. He nervously brought his hands up in surrender, “Woah! There’s no need for that.” He tried to stay calm but an obvious tremor to his voice giving away his nerves. The quick movement and tone had alerted the archer to his danger though. Daryl saw a grimy and bloody figure stand to Aaron’s side. Daryl lifted and clicked his crossbow of safety and pointed to the potential threat.

It was clear by the way the person froze they knew they were now out numbered. It was also evident that this person was trembling. They were in a fight mode from just being attacked and he didn’t blame them for being on edge. By the looks of it they had been out in the world for to long, something he was familiar with. This person seemed to be thinking of anyway to run and Daryl decided he should speak stopping those thoughts from getting to how you got away from the other guys.

“Put the knife down, we just were wantin to see if yeah are ok.”

The slow turn of the persons head seemed almost confused. But the soon flicker of eye contact between them revealed all. His grip on his crossbow slowly slipping. His heart pumped in his ears. You. Maybe he was dreaming? You? The building feeling dropped in him. Some way somehow he was staring at you, the women he would burn the world for. He watched as the knife was moved from Aaron and saw it fall to the floor. The sound of you crashing back to the wall behind you giving him a clear view of you. You were covered in dirt and blood. Hair was much shorter then the last he saw you. It was choppy like you did it with a dull blade. It was also tinted darker from being unwashed. Holes throughout your clothes and the collar loose. He slowly stepped closer ignoring Aaron. Then he saw it, a flicker of a sparkle coming from your finger.

The ring he gave you…

Your POV

The clumsy man sloppily creeped up into the house. A voice calmly spoke as they realized they were less than quiet entering, “I don’t want to hurt you. Just heard you screaming and saw the bodies of those men. Your not hurt are you?” The hatred still buzzed in you from your near death experience. This man claimed to ‘not want to hurt you’ but never said they weren’t going to hurt you. The man walked with heavy feet. You were in a dark room hugging the wall near the door. If he was truthful about just overhearing everything you didn’t want to kill him. It was hard to remember that not everyone was out to get you. Even so you quickly rushed to pull your knife to his neck.

The man seemed schooled while raising his hands in surrender. A good move that eased his threat level to you. You took notice of his clean appearance, something that seemed a little strange at first. He looked to you with ought moving his head. Eyes glancing down to you, “Woah! There’s no need for that.” It was clear to you this guy was not involved with the others you just killed. Before you could ask anything a click from across the hall stunned you into a sense of danger overflowing from you again. You didn’t move your sight from the man in front of you. It was clear some kind of weapon was pointed at you. You hadn’t heard the other person at all? Maybe the first guy was so loud you didn’t even think he had another person with him. Should you run? Maybe kill the guy at your knife point and use him as a shield for the other-

“Put the knife down, we just were wantin to see if yeah are ok.”

It was as if a ghost whispered in your ear. The unexpected voice from the dark pulling at your heart and memories. Maybe you were losing it, becoming crazy? All this time out in the world had gotten to you. Your eyes while scared to drift to the darkness and see nothing quickly glanced over to confirm if you lost it. Blue eyes is what you saw. His baby blue eyes that you used to joke would be the color of your children’s. Daryl, crossbow slowly lowering revealing more of himself. The knife slipped from your hand. The man near you back away after it fell. You didn’t even notice while crashing backwards. Eyes still locked with a seeming allusion of your lover. A overwhelming mess of feeling all at once made you numb. You were in Virginia… still miles from Georgia.

He stepped closer, hair longer and clothes seemed worn but still clean. You struggled to suck air in to your lungs, starting to hyper ventilate. You slid down the wall still looking at him. He crouched down to your level eyes glassy and a look of pain in his eyes.

“Darlin’…”

Both POV

Your lips wobbled as tears flood your vision. A sudden rush of air finally hitting your lungs. He almost reached out to touch you but froze halfway not wanting to scare you. The first sound of a cry released from you. You sent yourself flying up at him, encircling him into your arms. He caught you but stumbled back landing on his ass. He felt your body shake with your cry’s. A tightness stuck in his throat as he held you. A moment neither thought would have again.

"Uh, Daryl what just happened?"

Daryl looked over your shoulder and up to a very confused Aaron. A long sigh released from him, "M' Wife." He leaned his head down onto yours. You pulling back to look to him. Tears still in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. Not enough to not take notice of how he changed, for as long as you've known him he's never looked more mature. You sniffle, "I thought I'd never see you again." The clear strain to the admission broke his heart. He knew though, despite that you had been trying to get back, you wouldn't be in front of him now if you hadn't. He wiped at your tears still not fully processing. He noticed Aaron move and sigh, "I'll give you a moment, keep in mind we have to get back before dark." He walked out the door and it creaked and slowly swung closed. It had seemed you had only just noticed and remembered he was there. But you had also remembered that the world was still shit. You looked to Daryl and you notice he was looking at you already.

"Shit. Are you hurt? I saw those assholes bodies-" He seemed to realized it to. The world was different, therefore so were you. He might still have lost you. "-you killed those pricks?" His innocent little thing? He looked to the blood that covered you. Then he remembered the way those bodies looked. You looked away from his eyes seemingly ashamed, "Yes." It was a slightly cold reply. Squeezed fists, nails digging into your palm. "They cornered me so I killed them." It wasn't even a second when Daryl replied with a grumble in his voice, "Good." Your eyes spring to look at his face in surprise. You saw the unwavering truth in that moment. Yes you had changed, so had he.

You smile while tears stream down your face. He was truly here. You grab his face in your hands and look deep into his eyes. He was mesmerized by the change. The love in your eyes remain the same he last saw them, in the end you were still his. He should have clocked that the moment he still say the ring on your finger. You let in a breath before speaking, “The only reason I’m still alive is because of you.” He wasn’t expecting that. He seemed to bite his tongue and look down for a second. Guilty. You forgot how soft hearted this man was, you’re glad that somehow is still with him. You never thought that maybe he would blame himself for the separation. You lift his head to look back to you, “All the times I would watch you hunt, track, and prepare kills kept me fed. All the times I should have given up or accepted death I told myself I would crawl my way to you if I had to.”

Then is when the crashing feeling dropped on him. The love he held for you that felt like a void suddenly was right in front of him. You slowly leaned into him giving a slow kiss. His hand slipped behind your head pulling you into a deeper kiss. Something both would fantasize about now becoming a reality. You wince causing Daryl to pull back. He pulled you back and took a look at you. You huffed a sigh sitting back to the forgotten rope around your foot. Daryl’s eyes round at the rope around your swollen ankle, he grabbed your leg mumbling curses. You sighed, “Shit, forgot about that.” You flinch while he carefully unwraps it. You didn’t feel the pain until now. It didn’t feel broken but the guy must have sprained it the time he pulled on it before you shot his friend. Maybe the crunching you heard while strangling the guy with the rope was your foot. Daryl grunted and had that worried pout he did, “We gotta get yeah back to get that looked at.” He stood first helping you stand. You stumbled giving him a questioning look, “Back where?” He helped you out the door, the man you didn’t recognize turning to your exit of the shack. Daryl started to explain, “We have a community, it’s a little drive away.”

You cringe at the word community. You have seen your fair share of them, either run by crazy’s with a weird motive or something natural would happen destroying the place. “Don’t have the greatest relationship with those but, if you say so.” You look to the man Daryl was with, he seemed bamboozled. He walked closer to you and helping you walk. Daryl seemed perturbed, “I got her, I’ll get her to your car.” You watched somewhat comically as the man sassed and brush’s off his statement. You expected Daryl to hurl harsh words at him because he typically hated when anyone challenged him. But by this man’s tone, “You got shot few days ago. Not the greatest idea to carry her with your shoulder.” he was friends with him. Daryl scoffed but your eyes widened and looked to Daryl in shock. Daryl’s annoyed face at Aaron changed when he saw the worried one on yours, “Geez Aaron it was a graze! You’ll scare her talkin’ like that. Y/n don’t listen to him…”

They both were helping you through the woods seemingly to a road. Aaron chuckled as he took a glance to you, “Well to be fair never knew there was a Mrs. Dixon. Be good for her to finally keep you from being reckless.” Daryl scoffed rolling his eyes, the grip on you tightened from him, “Only ever mentioned it to one person, he’ll give me hell for her when we get back.” Daryl also can’t imagine all the rest of his family finding out you even existed. He looked down seeing you slightly amused at how he was acting. He knows he has changed, for the better he thinks. He was finally confident in saying you were right about his true nature all that time ago. He was just a big softie that denied it and put on a sour façade. He looked to Aaron then back to you, “You’ll be in the car with Aaron. Your to injured for my bike.”

You looked to this Aaron guy giving him an unsure look. He smiled to you shyly, “Best we don’t freak out the rest of are people. Those assholes you killed gave us hell and damaged are community.” That surprised you, looking as a road appeared through the trees, you hopped along, “You were out here for them?” You reached the car and Aaron left your side to open the passenger door. Daryl turning to explain, “They carved W in their head calling themselves wolves. Bunch of crazy’s.” He sighed looking past you, “Those two were the last of em. We didn’t want them doing anything else to anyone.” He rubbed your arm before helping you walk to car, “We were a little late for that I guess.” He helped you sit down noticing it was getting a little too dark for his liking. He moved down looking at Aaron in the drivers seat, “We gotta go before we worry people, I’ll lead the way.”

You sat there staring at Daryl as his headlight lit the road. Everything felt like it was moving really fast. The news of those people you killed were worse than you thought gave some justification for your brutality. Who were you kidding you had lost control. Aaron broke the silence in the humming car, “So, Y/n is it?” You glance over to Aaron just giving a hum in reply. He takes your awkward silence just as well as he takes Daryl. He heard you shuffle in your seat before asking, “How long have you known Daryl?” Aaron clocked the really meaning to the question, ‘how trustworthy are you’. Aaron chuckled, “A few months now.” Not long enough in your opinion. Yet Daryl seems so friendly with him? In such a short time? You decide to just ask another thing bothering you.

“What did he mean by he’ll get hell about me?”

Aaron sighed as he looked on to Daryl driving ahead, “Are leader will be a little pissed with bring you back. He is not big on newcomers right now after the recent incident, but you’re Daryl’s wife so not really new know are you.” This leader sounds to have the right idea about people. You fiddle with the ring on your hand, “So me staying is going to take some convincing?” Aaron smiled and nodded while he drove, “Well if anyone could convince him it would be his brother.” His brother is the leader of this place? That can’t be good. Merle was anything but a leader. This community is probably small and on its lasts legs, he did say it was just attacked and very damaged… guess you’ll be back out on the road sooner then you thought.

You looked out the window for the remainder of your ride. Aaron only speaking again when closer to the destination, “So we’re almost there. You should just stay in the car until we can give a heads up of your arrival?” You tilt your head in confusion, “I’m going in the community? Thought you said your leader wasn’t a people person right now?” You had thought you would have to stay behind considering so. Having to wait for some kind of approval. Aaron laughed a little, “Daryl has a fair amount of say. His family trusts him enough to make a call.” You sat there confused again, ‘Family?’ Just his brother? But he said it like there is a fair bit of people in this, ‘Family’. Your contemplating was interrupted when Aaron rolled to a stop. You looked around into the dark not realizing when Aaron turned off the headlights.

Then while Aaron filcked the lights on and off in a pattern you caught glimpses of a huge wall. You sat up in your seat leaning forward as you watched it slide open. Daryl rolled in first then Aaron slowly drove in. The first thing you notice was houses with a few lights on. Electricity? This place was huge… But your eyes were pealed back to Daryl. A group of people seemingly gathering around him seeming worried. Aaron unlocked the door and before getting out mumbled a quick, “Stay here.”

Daryl POV

There orders were to be back way before dark. So when they hadn’t come back it sent everyone in a panic. Not to mention they were already struggling with replacing broken parts of the wall and moving bodies. Rick had become a singled minded man again with Carl almost dying. So he wasn’t surprised when he came marching up to him unhappy about his tardiness, “Where the hell have you both been! We damn near sent people after you.” Daryl brought his hands to his hips, “Assholes are dead, but there is something else-“

“Stay here.”

Rick turned to see Aaron getting out of the car but he also noticed a figure in the passenger seat nodding. Anger flared in him, “I said no more recruiting! Damnit Daryl- put them in the cell!” Daryl was not about to be yelled at. Specially for something as important as this. “Hold the hell up-“ Rick shook his head in annoyance cutting Daryl off, “This is not negotiable!” Before Daryl could blurt out anything a running figure came screaming for Rick. It was Denise, “It’s Carl he is awake and freaking out!” Daryl felt his stomach drop. Rick hesitated in place before pointing to Glenn, “Go put them in the cell!” Then he ran off back to his son. Daryl turned to Glenn, “Nah man! You don’t get it!” Glenn looked to the people next to him before sighing and walking to the car. “Hey! Wait!” Abraham stepped in front of him blocking his path.

He huffed knowing he would have tackled Abraham if he wasn’t trying to be calm about this. “Get the hell out my way.” Then he heard your voice call out, “Uh… Daryl?” Very clear of your anxiety and how you might lash out if you feel in danger. Daryl needed to just had to suck it up, “ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! FINE!” He stepped to the side looking to Glenn, “Your throwing me in with her. Let’s go…” Glenn paused giving him a wide eye expression. Glenn looked back and forth conflicted but sighed and lead you to the cell Morgan just made. Glenn question Daryl on the walk, “Why are you doing this Daryl?” Daryl was walking slightly ahead with you right behind him. You answered for him, “I’m his wife.” A choked cough released from Glenn, “Woah!” Glenn paused looking to him the to you. “What the hell dude! Never said you were married!” Daryl saw they were getting closer to the building and ignored Glenn’s surprise. Glenn sighed, “Well damn now I don’t wanna lock you up.” Glenn walked past you both going down a small incline. He unlocked a door and rubbed at his next, “But Rick said. I’m sure once everything with Carl calms down he will let you out.” Glenn turned to you, “Sorry about this, newcomers is a sensitive thing at the moment.”

Much to Daryl’s dismay you half heartedly chuckled while walking into the room, “To be fair best I be in a cage. I did just brutally murder two men.” Glenn mouth was agape, “uh- what? She’s joking right?” Daryl just shrugged and followed you into the cell. Daryl even closed the door and stuck his arms through the bars before answering. While it was still a new thing to hear you be so… brutal… maybe just badass, he trusted you. “Don’t tell Rick why I’m in here with her. Want to rub it in his face for pissing me off and not listening to me.” Glenn chuckled and shrugged moving to lock the cell door, “If you say so.” You while just being a bystander to this conversation spoke up, “I thought Aaron said your brother was the leader, not this Rick guy?” Glenn started to laugh, “What you thought people would follow a dumbass like Merle?” Daryl squinted his eyes at Glenn… but he wasn’t wrong. Glenn smiled to him, “No offense.” Daryl just rolled his eyes putting his attention to you, “Rick is like a brother to me.”

Your face told him you were bewildered by that statement. Granted he knows back then Merle always through around ‘blood is the only thing we got’ when you both started dating. Maybe you thought he saw it that way to. Glenn was about to go out the door, “Aw, Daryl cares for us!” Before the door closed Daryl shouted back, “Get your head out of your ass ‘walker bait’!” A nickname sure to piss him off. You only looked to me pleased with the reaction. Awe struck in your eyes drew him closer to you. Alone at last, and it seemed you both had some catch up to do.

It was a lot of talking. Sitting against a wall with your hands intertwined. He told you about Merle’s death. How he came to be so friendly with all these people. You started crying and leaned into him. At first he thought you were sad but you were smiling proudly at him. You share your own story’s. Mentioning friends you’ve lost, mostly them all dying, how a few were just gone with you having no clue to how. “Told you I’d make you my husband the next time I saw you…” He felt his throat tightened, he grieved you to the point of acceptance. So having you here and now felt like another type of grieving. To what could have been. But before he could get into it farther an angry Rick stormed down into the cellar. Hand on hip with a baby Judith slumped over his shoulder. A stature of a man trying to show leadership, “What the hell are you doing here Daryl.” Rick’s eyes only glancing over to you for a second. Daryl sat there for a second prolonging the silence. While he couldn’t exactly blame Rick for having to run off before they could talk he should have known damn well he had say. So he glared daggers to Rick.

Rick moved from foot to foot shaking his head again, “Look we can’t go bring anyone in after the shit that happened-“ Daryl stood up waving his hands, “You think I’m stupid? Like I would go and bring someone back if it didn’t mean something?” Daryl stood straight closing in closer to the bars, “Now please go ahead and tell my WIFE! That she isn’t welcome here.” Ricks mouth gapped open, air releasing from his lungs, “T-that’s her!” Rick’s hand moved to his chest while turning to look at you. Daryl also turned around just seeing you nonchalantly resting on the floor.

“You two really do argue like brothers.”

Your eyes not staring at Rick but the baby girl he carried. Daryl’s heart filled with you pushing aside the anger of the situation, because this was supposed to be a happy moment. Daryl turned back to Rick seeming to have calmed down, “Now… you gonna let us out?” Rick started to laugh, Judith perking up to her father’s laughter. “Goddamn dude, I’m happy for ya.” Rick moved for the key in his pocket. Daryl reached out a hand to help you up, a visible limp still present. While walking here you tried to appear un injured, most likely trying not to look like easy pray. You truly were out there for a long time, his group knows what that could do to your mind.

The creaky bared door swings open leaving the little girl to finally met eyes with her uncle. Daryl sighed when he gained the little girls attention. Judith happily giggled while reaching for him. Though he found really hold her if he wanted to help you walk. That’s what drew his attention back to your face. He wasn’t expecting you to be looking at Judith like she was a puppy. Then you sniffled, “She’s so cute.” Rick looked to you while juggling his daughter. The know that sometimes things like Judith keep you going in hard times. But in your hard time you had nothing. So seeing something in this broken world like Judith was definitely pulling something inside you. Daryl though could help but smugly smile up to Rick with a, ‘Just look at m’ girl~.’ Showing off the one he loved at the start to the family he now has.

But damn if it didn’t feel good.

Feedback welcome and requests open! Maybe spin off if this does well and people want more.

[cupidvisions]

𝔭𝔞𝔠-𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

—>about this reading: this reading is going to tell you the lie being told, why the truth is being held from you, and when or if you’ll find out! sounds interesting? then continue reading !

—> how to choose? close your eyes, clear your mind, and open your intuition. the about the numbers, the images, the feeling they gives you. then choose🖤

the banners used are by @cafekitsune !!

1->3

pile 1

signs that this is your pile: pisces, cancer, taurus, capricorn, 5, 8, 15, lots of emotions recently, a feeling of needing help but not knowing how to get it, uncomfortable, back pain 

8 of cups, queen of cups reverse, hierophant, the devil 

the lie

the lie that’s being told to you is that you are a disappointment. this could be a lie your telling yourself, but if there is an outside influence, i’m seeing that the person who may be telling you this is insecure or dependent on you, so they try to keep you down in a low vibration too. i also have a feeling that you may not want to leave this situation or person that is causing you these feelings. this can trigger a sense of abandonment for you. another lie i can see being told is “you can’t leave” or “you can’t escape” maybe you feel stuck on the situation or person you are with. this could also be from yourself. i’m seeing that this lie could make you very emotional. interestingly enough, before i started this reading i felt stuck, like i didn’t know what to say. so i read something that reassured me that i can do this reading. maybe that’s a sign for you to look for someone close to seek help from, or find health coping mechanisms 

why is the truth being held from you?

(i actually feel like the lie may be coming from within so that’s how i typed that part)

it’s being held from you possibly because of the situation your in causes you to conform to the rules of that environment. this can mean that the community your apart of may not be open to hearing what you have to say. it could be brushed off as “a little anxiety” or “not that big of a deal”. i’m having a feeling this lie is coming from within, so there’s a chance that your scared that if you tell someone, you’ll be shamed, ridiculed, or pushed away. this is what’s keeping you away from the truth

when or if you will find out 

(when or if you will tell others)

i’m seeing that you will likely keep this to yourself. maybe the inner voice is plaguing you to keep this in. but there are consequences to keeping this in. it can lead to self destructive behaviors, and you will continue to feel like your stuck or restricted. you may have a toxic relationship with these negative thoughts , like when you try to show yourself some compassion, you may feel uncomfortable or like it’s not right. it may be awhile before you finally open up about how your feeling

pile 2

signs this is your pile: capricorn, virgo, 0, 1, 2, 9, feelings of confusion, optimism

the fool, 2 of pentacles, the hermit, ace of wands

the lie 

i have a feeling that the lie being told to you is that this risk, or new beginning will be worth it. maybe it puts a lot of things at risk or you are blindness going with the flow. i have a feeling that you were convinced by someone or yourself that this “new possibility” will be worth the 50/50 risk. i’m seeing that you don’t wanna miss out on this opportunity, or you’ve been trying to put your trust into going with the flow, instead of being practical and planning. on this card this man is looking in the air blissfully with what seems to be him dancing at the edge of a cliff, and that’s somewhat the vibes i get from this. you really wanna try to be positive about this, but i’m getting a sense that it isn’t like you to just “trust the process”. and i have a feeling you may have been coerced into thinking or feeling like it was a good idea

why is the truth being held from you?

the truth is being held because someone or yourself is trying to get you out of your comfort zone. being told the truth may make you realize that the risk isn’t worth it, or that you could be making a bad decision. i’m also seeing that you are having an internal conflict choosing which side of you to believe. “do i want to take the risk or not?” “new start or comfort zone?” these are the questions you may be asking yourself. taking this opportunity could also put a lot of your priorities at jeopardy or make you lose sense of what your priorities are. in the hermit card, the man is holding a lantern but he’s looking away from it, i feel like this you you looking away from the truth, someone withholding it, or the truth being right in front of you but you can’t see it

when or if you will find out 

you will be told the truth eventually or shown  the right decision. i’m seeing that once you bet out of this limbo of “should i or should i not” it will open more doors for yourself. in fact, a new and even better opportunity can come along. going through this lesson will help you grow, and and gain power from it (could be metaphorical). this also strikes an inspiration in you. if you paint, draw , write, this could inspire you to make a piece from this situation. i’m seeing that you’ll be quite satisfied with the outcome 

pile 3

signs this is your pile: 8, 88, 2, sagittarius, gemini, cancer, the moon, needing a break, tired, relaxing, scared, timid, paranoia, waiting, impatience, listening 

8 of wands reversed, 8 of sword reversed, the high priestess 

the lie

i’m seeing that you are being told to wait, or to be patient about whatever is coming. “you just need to wait” “your being so impatient” is what i’m hearing. i feel like waiting is giving you a sense of panic and fear. this is causing frustration, more panic, tiredness, and paranoia. people around you, or yourself could be telling you to hold off doing something. you feel stuck, and confused. your not sure what to do, and this can be feeding into your anxiety. while typing this i feel a sense of anxiety, and also feeling like i don’t know what to do, i have a feeling you also don’t know what to do 

why is the truth being held from you?

i feel like the truth is being held from you because you may not want to accept it. you have beliefs that are limiting you from your fullest potential. you beat yourself up over this situation, or thing that is causing you this stress. you may cuss or whisper negative things to yourself when your upset. you don’t want to accept the truth. maybe your inner thoughts are telling you it’s too good to be true, or that you not ready to open yourself up to that perspective. although you may be scared, i have a feeling the truth will free you from all this worry 

when or if you’ll be told the truth

i’m seeing that this is a maybe. i feel like it’s really up to you wether you want to accept it or not. i’m seeing that you should trust your gut feeling about this. use your instincts and intuition to guide you to your answer. i’m also seeing a feminine figure, maybe one you look up to, will help with this. i’m finding that this information will be something you hold onto dearly and you will gain a sense of purity, and trust yourself again 

[strawberryblondebutch]

So I read Britta Curl's apology.

Emphasis on read, because no way in hell am I listening to that whole thing with my shitty auditory processing. So please acknowledge that this means I'm potentially missing out on tonal cues and body language.

I don't think she's changed. A good apology recognizes what you've done wrong and how you'll improve in the future. She seems to think that her posts are the problem, not the beliefs that motivated said posts. Her improvement plan is to "grow in humility, and grow in love." I'm not sure where most marginalized groups would rank that in their restorative justice plans.

Even if the apology's content is lackluster, the fact it exists is good. That Curl felt she needed to say something, for her own and the league's reputation, means she knows that eyes are on her. There are degrees of harm in public figures. Among baseball players, you can trace a line down from Curt Schilling (actual Breitbart personality) to Jason Adam (refused to wear a pride cap in a game) to Brad Hand (likes Trump tweets on Twitter in silence). I have no respect for the beliefs Hand's social media activity suggests that he has, but he's not saying on the record that being gay is a bad lifestyle choice, nor is he tweeting about how awesome that Capitol riot was. My personal respect may be nonexistent, but Hand's actions are less directly harmful.

I would love if Britta Curl changed her beliefs. I don't engage in moral Puritanism. I believe that people can change, and I want them to. If she came out with an apology tomorrow where she said, "I understand that my words and actions have hurt members of the trans and Black communities, and here are the steps I am taking to understand why this is so harmful so that I can improve, I would support her. But that's not what happened.

Whether we like it or not, this shit does matter. Arguably, it matters even more in women's sports. I don't like it. I would love if the WNBA, PWHL, or any other league were one where you could shut up and play, and you weren't expected to be a role model for young girls everywhere (which, that's a rant all of its own). But at the end of the day, you can't cater who you are to a hypothetical ideal. You have to cater it to the world that you're in. And yeah, that sucks.

The increased scrutiny on female athletes will always affect marginalized groups more. I'm not going to speak too much on racism in the WNBA, because I don't consider myself an expert on it (I'm only a casual basketball fan, no matter the gender), but I've seen the scrutiny leveled on Angel Reese compared to Caitlin Clark. I also remember Hilary Knight being fucking terrified to come out as queer because of all the outside pressure on her. Having to hide what you believe is different than hiding what you are.

She's not going to get top-six minutes this coming season, and the discourse is going to be insufferable. Yeah, Curt Schilling's a terrible human being, and although his beliefs got worse after retirement, he was an outspoken conservative when he won the 2004 World Series. Compare that to Trevor Bauer, whose shooters claim that he's being blacklisted by the Woke Mob, when he's really just... not a good pitcher, and he's also managed to piss off every manager he's ever had. Britta Curl will not be one of the six best players on Minnesota unless something goes terribly wrong - she's not a better center than Heise or Pannek, and she's not a good enough sniper to move to the wing. The worst people you know will claim she's being punished for her beliefs, because they do not understand how sports work. Block and move on.

It is still very funny that she blocked me on Twitter. Block and move on goes both ways, but I didn't tag her in the post or anything, which means she name searches.

Once again, if you read this far, please consider giving to Prevention Point or Savage Sisters. Harm reduction is important. Those two organizations are why I'm still alive, and the city of Philadelphia wants addicts to die.

[t0ast-ghost]

Hmmm mmmmmm I have so many boys thoughts and since I’m not sleeping tonight I guess I’ll write them down:

(Spoilers for the Boys season 4. Don’t cry over spoiled milk show! Go watch it for yourself)

- Truthfully I didn’t like Hughie in the second episode they just made him (super forcefully) bring up his mom. I did really like all his other bits though especially the stuff we’re getting into with a-train (really hope they actually go through with giving him plot, since he’s supposed to be the main character and all that or whatever)

- every time a character got close to another I legitimately asked if they were gonna kiss

- butcher is my wet cat sad puppy murdering babygirl, he’s slaying this season by actually communicating and I hope it stays that way

- This is the second time I’ve seen Jeffrey Dean Morgan play a horrible person willing to weaponize children for their cause… and he’s good at playing that part (I feel they gave his character a lot of what Butcher was in the comics)

- I really do like what they’re doing with A-Train

- I really do hate what they’re doing with Annie and Firecracker, I get they have to have personal conflict but this feels shallow and although it’s believable that this grudge would last I think there should have been more thought put into the stakes of their relationship (Curry and Moriaty’s acting was so good for the bit where Firecracker threatens her but the stakes are so low and the hatred in the writing doesn’t feel built up enough for her to have that big of a reaction to the threat)

- Going back to Hughie and his mom, I think Quaid’s acting for the bits with his mom were phenomenal, I could relate to his frustration and his sadness was palpable. I think a lot of their moments didn’t feel great and I couldn’t put my finger on it but the conversation about how her depression lead to her leaving felt like the truth finally came out and now it’s hopefully going to feel a bit more like things are moving forward for them

- I’m a little surprised they actually had a character like splinter. Simply because he felt straight out of the comics, and I know how much they’ve veered away from the comics. I really liked the scene where Butcher got to take out a bunch of them simply cause he got to be good ‘ol Billy Butcher

- Homelander has me on a roller coaster because I was going to write a post while watching about how they write him really well in a mindfuck kind of way because you slowly start realizing you’re relating to his character and you can understand his actions, and right before I wrote that post he told the deep to suck off a train and I stopped dead in my tracks. I was legitimately scared in that moment because that also felt like something out of the comics but the difference is that the tv show wouldn’t or at least didn’t go through with it

- Homelander this season is even more brilliantly acted, and seeing him with Sage is a new interesting experience. I was trying to figure out Sage’s motivations and I thought I knew but really I didn’t know because I was trying to say she was fighting for a cause. That is wrong. She is constantly manipulating the people around her but it is solely to benefit herself and her happiness. Yes, she helps Homelander and is honest with him because that is the best way to keep herself happy and alive. She’s smart enough to know that manipulating him or trying to agree with everything he says will be a dead end. She’s still trying to please him and is ultimately playing by his rules but she’s the smartest player because she knows being inauthentic will only end up losing you power, and if you’re on the end of two hot glowing red orbs anyway, why not at least have an actual say

- The gore is going well so far. I’ve appreciated it. Especially the beetlejuice-esque scene where Kimiko has her face torn off and you only see the back of her head and the reactions

- Ryan has so many good scenes. His scenes with Homelander are punctuated by quiet, you can hear every thought screaming through, but what would saying any of it actually accomplish? His scenes with Butcher are so heartfelt, I’m glad they’re finally able to talk. But Ryan still dealing with his grief and guilt is heartbreaking. And on top of that him thinking that the closest person to his mom seemingly hates him and would never want him adds so much to the emotional confusion that he’s experiencing. He obviously needs to leave Homelander, but he still doesn’t want to leave his dad which makes sense because this is currently the only source of love he has from anyone and it was promised unconditionally (even though it is very conditional)

- Frechie’s gotta tell that guy that he killed his family but I was really glad they gave him a boyfriend. I forgot that him and Kimiko weren’t a thing so I got really excited that Frenchie was getting to be awesome and polyamorous. I am glad that Kimiko has asserted that they are friends tho

- I am so intrigued by the brain worm

Thoughts upon second rewatch:

- Opening could’ve been bloodier or more horrific. They toned it down :( but the flesh and blood melting off that guys face was pretty good. And the Todd scene is pretty horrific.

- The way Ryan and Homelander speak in unison about people being ants is so telling, and makes sense with the later context of Homelander wanting Ryan to be an exact replica of himself

- The way that Ryan in this season is so focussed on fear, because he is scared but the people around him won’t admit to that, so when Butcher finally communicates with him and tells him that he’s most afraid of dying without making amends I think that finally gains Ryan’s trust back

- They really are changing Butcher’s character, he’s not just ‘do thing to get thing and it’s justified by the end result’ he’s finally thinking about the people around him and considering them even if the results aren’t fast. He doesn’t give the info to Vick, he doesn’t drug Ryan, and he’s really trying to help even if he is still being a shit about it

- The talk between Vick and Homelander in the opening is sooooo good cause of HL’s little voice crack, he’s losing it

- KIMIKO PAINTS HER NAILS!!! they’re blue :)

- I feel like Hughie’s hatred towards Vicky is forced upon him. Like I guess he hates that she lied to him (but if he thought about it he’d realize that it’s reasonable for her to want to hide her powers especially since she’s been shamed about them for most of her life) and I get they have very different views with her under vought’s thumb and all. But since they’re recruiting A-Train I’m wondering if there’ll ever be a bit of a redemption for her cause I feel like wanting supes to be allowed to live like normal people is not a bad thing, it’s just that she’s working with people who view supes as superior

- “He killed that poor cunt in broad daylight, and they fucking cheered.” Alongside Homelanders “I save people, they cheer. I fucking kill people, they cheer.” is like, they both understand this fact. Homelander will get what he wants no matter what and Billy wants to take him down a notch. Same as always and yet so many changes.

- I missed that the acid that Hughie threw on Vick was Frenchie’s creation the first time around. Also missed Hughie’s failed pep talk, I love that loser. I didn’t miss that no one else is able to understand Kimiko, which sucks

- I want Karl Urban and Simon Pegg to be in the same room again but that’s just my star trek fan talking

- Is that the first time Hughie and Butcher properly hug in the series?

- There’s a weird obsession with phones this season. Especially with hanging up on people. Also an obsession with “no/yes, sirs” which I think is them upping the show of power dynamics

- I thought that octopus sounded familiar. It’s Tilda Fucking Swinton.

- “He always knew he was destined for greatness, because he came from greatness.” Good job guys. I see your little joke

- I did not notice that all the guys setting up Firecracker’s stage were splinter who is played by Rob Benedict (Chuck in Supernatural)

- One of the background noises at the Truthcon mentions an “Alex Jones look alike contest”

- When Ryan throws Koi against the wall in other shows that would be his turning point. The point in which there’s no going back for him. So I’m really glad that it’s just the point in which he needs to talk to someone, that it really does upset him. Unfortunately he goes from one horribly emotionally repressed man to a slightly less emotionally repressed man who is dying

- I hope whoever that person that Kimiko knows turns into a new found family member

- M. M slowly realizing why Butcher was such a bitch to everyone on the team. And it’s because no one listens. Ever. Unless you’re actively threatening them in one way or another

- I don’t know what that bloody metal rod in Sage’s room means even after a rewatch. So I guess I’ll find out.

- Closing thoughts; bring in more A-Train and Hughie moments (also get people to call him Reggie so I don’t have to write A-Train every time)

Hughie has weed in his desk

If y’all wanna talk about this with me (especially after reading all that) feel free to do so

[sophieinwonderland]

Do you ever feel worn down by all the hate sysmeds perpetuate? I tend to have a problem with seeing the world as rather dystopian because of all the systemic badness in our society that seems to have no end in sight.

Sysmeds have such a chokehold on the discussion and pluralphobic singlets seem to be more plentiful than ones that aren't.

I know we're on the right side of history, I mean look a how transmedicalism was dismantled. (Sysmeds can whine all they want. There are similarities to trans issues and system issues when it comes to how sysmeds handle the discussion. This is said by a trans system. 😘😜)

Anyways, it just feels like there's no light at the end of the tunnel to turn the tides. Anywas, just some random thoughts. Thank you for reading.

Sometimes. But I don't think the dystopian view of society is fair. I mean, yes, things aren't ideal. But they generally are trending towards acceptance.

In 1977, Only 44% of people thought lesbian and gay people should be allowed to be hired as doctors. By 2019, this number rose to 91%!

Only 27% said they should be elementary school teachers.

Now that's 81%.

Only 14% said they should be allowed to adopt children compared to 77% saying they shouldn't.

Now that number is 75% to 23%

Progress happens slowly, and I'll admit that being on the right side of history is a small consolation to the people living through history.

But... I really do think we're going to be seeing progress for plurality snowballing.

As for the anti-endos... you look at the anti-endo venting blogs and the like, and you can see the seams starting to tear. You can see the anxiety in anti-endos at having mutuals turn to pro-endos. Or having their own therapists supporting endogenic systems.

When I first got to this website, the anti-endos felt in control. They had built up these powerful convictions. Their stranglehold over the community felt so strong.

Many of those have become pro-endo or at least neutral.

And now... these younger anti-endos here feel scared and desperate.

They complain that their servers are kicking them, about losing friends, about losing their "safe spaces." They've had to make multiple "safe space" blogs to house their hate because their bigotry isn't being accepted anywhere else.

I saw an undiagnosed anti-endo not too long ago complaining that their own older sibling, who was a diagnosed DID system, was pro-endo. And they whined to the vent blog anonymously that they didn't think they could "educate" their sibling on why endos are supposedly bad.

On top of all of that is the refusal to actually engage with the other side. While we're dropping sources left and right, they're hiding behind the block button every time someone presents them facts that contradict their worldview.

Anti-endos aren't going to admit it, but the sense I get from their community, at least on this site, is one that's desperately huddling together and clinging to their beliefs and hate while the rest of the world moves past them more and more each and every day.

We still have a long way to go.

But progress is happening constantly and our future is plural!

[ogsherlockholmes]

The Hound of Watson's Grief

I made a post a few weeks ago about how all of the Holmes stories could be interpreted as Watson's imagination in order to compensate for his loneliness (sorry for putting that idea in your heads) and I wanted to expand on that by focusing on The Hound of the Baskervilles. So, prepare for some inarticulate rambling which I hope will make sense.

One of the things that has always struck me about this particular story is ultimately how different it is from the rest of the canon: not just Holmes' noticeable absence in the mid-section, but the emphasis on Watson's description and the supernatural features. Although these can still be seen in the other stories, The Hounds of the Baskervilles still seems to exist separately from them, and I have a an idea why this is.

The Hounds of the Baskervilles, as a story, was never meant to be. Holmes was dead- ACD was proud to announce that. He had rid himself of the so called 'great detective', and could focus on more historical serious novels. But, alas, he thought of an interesting story line, and could think of no other way of conceiving it without help from Holmes. So, Holmes was prematurely resurrected, without any form of indication that he was actually alive, or if this was D Watson writing up his notes, or if the audience should just suspend their disbelief and read the story as an undefined prequel.

Realistically, that is about all there is to say about the premise of The Hound of the Baskervilles: the story just is, and we have to accept that. But what of THotB is purely a work of fiction, including within the realms of the fictional world of Sherlock Holmes? In some ways, THotB could be read as Watson finding an outlet for his grief for Holmes.

Firstly, Holmes' absence: not just in the story, but in Watson's life and in the public's life. Holmes was dead, with no chance of return... supposedly. He had died offstage, with no witnesses, apart from the man who died with him, so no one could check with him if Holmes was actually dead. For Watson, the only proof he had of Holmes' death was a letter, with no body to bury; for a man who had spent so much time with someone so furtively based on facts, I can't imagine that that would have felt right to him. Holmes was dead, but where did he die? It's reasonable to suppose that Watson went through a stage of denial, believing that Holmes was still alive. Of course, he couldn't admit that to the public (like so many other things... the unreliable narrator that he is) so he would need another outlet. So, why not write a story involving Holmes? Maybe Watson began writing, including all the quintessential characteristics of Holmes (his quick deductions, sarcastic quips and his effortlessness in complimenting Watson), but then the realisation of his friend's death dawned on him. Watson looks back on his work, and remembers that he now must solve mysteries by himself. Holmes is busy elsewhere, and Watson is alone.

Watson begins a tirade of long, flowery descriptions (in the words of Holmes "cut out the poetry, Watson") which are usually skipped over in the shorter stories. We are fully immersed in the gloomy Dartmoor with its "tinge of melancholy", and the introduction of an escaped prisoner: Selden, the Notting Hill murderer. This feels like compensation for Watson forcing Holmes' logic in the earlier chapters, almost as though he's trying to build another story for himself. The addition of the Baskerville legend also seems more alligned with Watson's interests than Holmes: overall, THofB becomes more of Watson indulging himself in a fairy tale than reporting facts, as Holmes would prefer.

Still, Watson is just as dutiful as ever, writing letters to Holmes, but receiving little response. Again, this might be a parallel for Watson's life: he wishes to communicate with his late friend, but hears nothing back. Here, Watson might be doubting himself again: he's obsessing over Holmes' death, so much so that he can't be sure he's even dead. A glimmer of hope: maybe Holmes is alive, and he's out there, waiting to come back. Watson mentions "the figure of a man upon the tor", the "tall, thin man" which is undeniably Holmes: he allows himself this fantasy, to the point where he explicitly states this idea when he reveals that Holmes has been with him in Dartmoor all along, but hiding away from him. But, he can't be too certain, so Selden (who could be seen as a mirror to Holmes as he is confused with Holmes as being the figure on the Moor) is killed off as soon as Watson finds Holmes. Again, Selden is killed offstage and by falling off an edge, which sounds familiar...

Now, Watson has his Holmes back, in theory. He ends the story by describing Holmes being involved in other matters which he doesn't provide too much detail on, as per usual. The story was quickly and almost effortlessly resolved, with the antagonist, Stapleton, seemingly dead but the protagonist, Henry Baskerville, saved. I don't think it is too much of a stretch to say that Stapleton and Baskerville are Moriarty and Holmes substitutes, respectively (Stapleton's academic backgrounds and unusual characters; Baskerville's assertiveness, Watson's detailed descriptions of his movements and appearance, the implication that Selden's death was originally confused as his). So, here is another instance of Watson applying the narrative he wants, almost as though he's manifesting Holmes' resurrection.

I've thrown many ideas together which can probably be easily disregarded, but I tried rereading the story with this perspective, and I think it helped me make sense of certain aspects of the story which never sat comfortably with me. Although I'm not claiming to know the true reason why ACD wrote THotB, I do hope that you can understand the point I'm trying to make.

[moongoopy]

Aizawa, You and Yamada were cat enthuasiasts.

Whenever you were busy cooking up a meal and hear a certain stray scratching the door to make its entrance, you ran quickly to the two. you pointed out that there was a cat and they leaped out the couch to see it.

Aizawa was a natural cat attractor, cats who usually give the cold shoulder to people and walk right past were rubbing up against his hands for pats. He had instances where mother cats would pass her kittens to him because they just find him so trustworthy. You and Yamada laugh when he had too many kittens on his hands. It may seem like heaven to other but even Aizawa couldn't handle a basket of kitties gven to him.

Though Yamada envies the trust that the cats put onto Aizawa because it was like he was strictly anti cat repellant for other cats. He kept his voice down around these little critters but it was hard for them to come onto him. Was it the hair? Was his face scary, should he wear a mask? Did he have to fix his stance? You told Yamada it was none of that, sometimes animals just need time to adjust and trust people (ignoring Aizawa here)

So Yamada resorted to something else, he kept his voice low and mimicked meowing. He usually hear from you and Aizawa that his meowing was insabely realistic, well it was his quirk after all. Aizawa just felt a bit annoyed that it wasn't an actual cat whenever Yamada does it out of boredom. But because of his sense of boredom, a baby kitten approached him and pawed at his knuckle and he nearly shed tears of joy as he held it up.

So hand in hand, Aizawa passes of the cats that linger to him to Yamada where he communicates with and you captured this moment with a camera.

Also humouring Yamada that he could learn cat language through this (or could he?)

[tanix-dragon]

To Be the Dragon: Living as Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii

For many years now (about 6!), I've been in the alterhuman community, thinking about how I want to write about my dragon kintype. I’ve never written much, though, despite being fairly comfortable doing so. This isn’t out of lack of things to talk about—it’s more because I have such a basic run-of-the-mill spiritual dragon kintype (in my mind) that I wasn’t sure that writing about it would do anything for anyone. Besides, it’s all so normal to me. It’s hard to write about your life when it feels so utterly mundane that to pick each piece out of it feels ridiculous. I have a dozen concepts for essays in my Tumblr drafts, but in the end, I’ve just decided to write something big. I’m going to go through it all, all I can think of, because I don’t know if I can pull it apart enough to write about each piece separately. It’s all so intertwined that it’s just easier to write a big one.

Strap in. This is going to take awhile. I’m a wordy bastard and despite how little I actually go into it, I do know a lot about this kintype.

Awakening

This is where most people start, and I’m sorry to disappoint; this is a short one. When I was a kid, I loved dinosaurs, and when I discovered dragons, and I mean really discovered them, realized how cool they are, I felt some kind of deep resonance. As a kid, I figured that it was just because they were the coolest thing of all time. In reality, this awakened phantom limbs (I think? Or just strengthened them. I don’t really remember very well; “I” as I’m known didn’t quite exist at the time, system stuff, you understand) and set me on a path of self-discovery and overwhelming draconity. I was known as the “crazy dragon kid” at school, even for years after I stopped talking about them, and I’ve always been very recognizable, even at a distance, even for people that barely know me, because I “move differently.” A friend once told me that I move like someone put a lizard or a bird in a human’s body, that I have a dragon’s walk cycle, that I have the wrong animation set for my skeleton. That was a very nice thing to be told.

I don’t know. I spent a lot of years with constant phantom limbs and sort of figured that they were normal, more or less? I didn’t think about them. They were just a part of me. Only once I tripped over a dragonkin’s blog completely accidentally in early 2018 did I start putting pieces together, and then it hit me like lightning: oh. I’m a dragon. I’m actually a dragon. And I’m not alone. I started my Tumblr kin blog and that was that. No questioning, no kinsidering, no “am I really?”--I had known that the thing was dragon, but I hadn’t known how it applied to me, and the second I did, I knew it was right. I am a dragon, and that was that.

I’d wondered off and on for a while if someone could have a past life as a dragon, but had never mentioned it to anyone (at least as far as I remember), because I was worried about the response I’d get. Once I realized that I was otherkin, though, I embraced that wholeheartedly: I had been a dragon, and that had rolled over so powerfully that I still am a dragon. It fits, and I love it.

What’s it like?

“What’s it like being a dragon?” my non-kin friends ask me sometimes. It’s kind of almost exactly the same as being not a dragon, except my mental image of myself is a big blue dragon instead of a human. Chronic pain flaring up? Dragon curled up and complaining about it. OCD lashing out? Dragon resting head against the wall with shut eyes and half-bared teeth. Someone annoying me? Dragon with exposed teeth and fangs all puffed up to try to make them back down.

My dragon body maps onto my human body to produce feeling like an anthro dragon most of the time, even though my dragonself isn’t even bipedal. It’s the happy medium my brain can settle on between what I feel I should be and my physical reality, although, again, mentally, most of the time when I imagine myself, I’m as I should be. In headspace where my headmates can see me, I’m quadrupedal unless I’m doing something that requires me to be bipedal. (Our headspace is pretty flexible, don’t worry about it.) All of this evens out to me moving kind of oddly—toss in how stiff and sore I am all the time (it’s some kind of unknown but disabling condition, hooray), and you get someone who moves very oddly. I turn my head like there’s significantly more weight to it than there should be, I visibly squeeze through spaces that are plenty big enough for me as if trying to accommodate great wings, I walk with a slight adjustment to my hips to compensate for a heavy tail, and I lift my shoulders to flare or gesture with my wings. I have slight head movements that correspond to how I move my ear fins, expressions that call for me to bare my teeth, gestures that only make sense with wings, tail, and claws, and a dozen other little things I probably don’t even notice that I do.

I don’t get a lot of species dysphoria anymore. I’d prefer to be able to switch in and out of dragon form (ideally with that anthro dragon that my brain has invented for me as an option too! I do love it as a middle ground), but I can make do as-is. I spent untold centuries as a dragon, I can handle some decades as a human. I’m here now, and I have a different life to live, and frankly, I love humans. I love the things they do, the cultures they have, the things they make, the ways they act, and I feel really lucky that I get to be in one of those human cultures and witness others. I have a minor in anthropology—I promise I’m not about to become a misanthrope anytime soon. I believe that humans are inherently creatures like any other, and can be driven to great good or great evil. I don’t believe that’s a reason to hate them, and besides, some part of me identifies as human as well as my kintypes. Not everyone does, but I do, and it’s comfortable for me.

I do have a few draconic instincts I have to juggle, but none are terribly maladaptive or troublesome. I know exactly how to breathe fire and want to when angry or struggling to keep a fire going in winter, and I know that there’s something in my chest and something else in my throat that are missing, structures that allow firebreathing, but I have phantoms and can mimic it okay, so I can huff and puff and burn nothing down. I have a prey drive that kicks in hard watching squirrels or, worse, rabbits out of my window, but I don’t ever actually chase anything (not that my slow ass could catch anything even if I did). I want to sharpen my claws, curl up in the sun, growl and threat-display with my wings (and do flare my phantoms when I’m in the car and another vehicle does something I don’t like), and a bunch of other small things I can’t think of right now. Again, it doesn’t bother me—it’s just affirmations of my draconity, and most are subtle enough that I can do them in front of people and they don’t notice, or, if they do, they don’t think much of it. 

What’s it like? What a question. What else do I say? Sometimes my chronic back pain reaches into my rhomboid muscles, which is where my phantom wings connect, so it registers as wing pain, I guess. That doesn’t usually happen, but it can. I walk on my toes a lot because I naturally want to move digitigrade. Shocker, I know. I don’t know—what’s it like being a dragon? What’s it like being human, or anything else? What’s it like to be who and what you are?

The Dragon Driik’lor

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii. Tanix of Fire and Breath. What a name—and one I have known parts of for a long, long time. As a kid, I’d sign off messages and emails as Tanadin of Fire and Air. When choosing a name for myself when I came out as trans (Tanix), I knew that I wanted something with the nickname ‘Tan’ still, derived originally from my username “Tanadin,” because it felt right. Was my name truly Tanix? I don’t know. It feels right, or at least, right enough. I swapped out “air” for “breath” because Tanix lei Dramon ak Voron didn’t feel as right. I guess the question is—who is, or was, this Tanix, and what language is that?

(I'll occasionally be referring to my dragonself as Tanix and myself as… me, I guess. I know, I’m sorry, that’s confusing, but that’s driiv name as far as I know, and calling driik anything else feels weird.)

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was a mature adult dragon of a sapient and extremely intelligent species with its own language. My noemata have provided me with pieces of this language—individual words and ideas on its structure, some suffixes, some sounds and pieces of what a sentence should sound like. A few letters, even, for the written version. For the past fourteen or so years, I have worked on uncovering as much of this language (that, as a kid, I called Dranonic, and I haven’t changed that) as I can, and have made up much of the rest. I will never reconstruct an entire language from noemata alone, and I know that, so I just do what doesn’t feel wrong and change things if I get an inkling that I’m off somewhere.

Tanix’s species had some extremely complex social rules and dances that driit largely didn’t do much with. Dragons could be either solitary or live in clans, and driit was pretty solitary. Driit was also fucking annoying. Sorry, but it’s true—Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was a pretentious, self-centered, prideful, overconfident bastard that had other dragons going “oh gods here comes Tanix again, just smile and wave.” Driit was a bulky, powerful, physically imposing dragon, and driit knew it. (In this human life, my family is actually fairly dense and stout despite being quite tall, so that’s free species euphoria.) As far as I can tell, given driiv five horns and larger stature, driit was female. (I talk about horn count and dragon gender more in my essay Counting Horns and Making Assumptions, or, Draconic Age and Gender, if you’re interested.) However, pronouns in Dranonic are based on age category, not gender, so the fact that Tanix and driiv mate have different pronouns is because of a difference in age, not gender.

Oh, Selkhenar. Selkhenar of the Darkened Swamp. I wish I knew more about you. Muut seems to be the only dragon that Tanix wasn’t a huge bitch to—and let me tell you something. Driit was vain as fuck. My dragon instincts know what driit did and did not find attractive in a dragon, and Selkhenar was considered, in that society, to be a kind of dumpy little green and black swamp beast with a weirdly long face, short ass legs, and kind of weird proportions.

And driit loved muut more than anything. Every time I think about Selkhenar, I get holdover fuzzies and butterflies from my time as the dragon the first go-around, and man, driit was gone for this swamp dragon. I have flashes of memory of much more impressive-looking dragons trying to woo driik and getting passed up, but accidentally tripping over Selkhenar in the swamp just beyond the edge of driiv territory was apparently what driik needed.

They had at least one clutch of eggs together. I remember guarding them ferociously, even growling at Selkhenar once before recognizing muuk. I remember them hatching into the cutest little whelplings of all time, and I remember them being a mix of blue and green and red and black. I remember teaching them to fly, throwing them over the ledge outside of the cave and off the cliff. Selkhenar was below, ready to catch if they didn’t figure it out, but still, uh, not the strategy I would recommend, necessarily. I remember hunting for them, both land animals and skimming the lake outside of our cave, down in the evergreens at the base of the mountain, for fish, even though… Selkhenar was a water dragon and therefore better suited to fishing…. I think it was a pride thing. Tanix was a ferociously prideful dragon and I suspect driit was like NO, MY LOVE, I WILL HUNT FOR YOU, YOU TINY THING… YOU GUARD THE BABIES WHILE I PROVIDE FOR YOU…. and then proceeded to accidentally driik’lor (Dranonic for him/her/themself) into the water. Repeatedly. Over and over. I have very firm noemata of hunting fish, eating fish, and fucking up while hunting fish and fouling my wings and falling into the lake. I was an okay swimmer and was mostly just glad that no one saw, but like… come on. Let the swamp dragon do it. I mean, I’m sure muut did, but I don’t have memories of that.

What’d This Dragon Look Like, Anyway?

Good question! That’s something I have the firmest grasp on. I’ve been drawing this dragon for as long as I’ve been super aware of dragons, and driit has been through a lot of iterations, but I think I’m very close.

Tanix lei Dramon ak Hyuukii was approximately fifty feet long from nose to tailtip. Driit was a deep, intense blue (take a peek at any art I’ve ever done of driik/myself) with bright red stripes along driiv midline—basically, along the spine, down the tail, and along the face. The stripes also appeared on driiv legs and maybe wings, but I’m not sure about that one. Driit had five horns that were either darker blue or slightly purple that curved slightly back and were slightly offset from one another, with each set being slightly smaller than the last and a bit further back, with the single horn being the smallest and furthest back. Driit also had a single nose spike that matched the horns. Driit had big (kind of disproportionately big) ear fins, a more recent discovery of mine and out of date on most of my art, used for communication and showing of mood, mostly. Driiv “hands” had three fingers and a thumb, driiv back feet had three toes and a dewclaw, and driiv wings had four “fingers” with membrane stretched between them and a fifth “finger” that seemed to serve little to no purpose. This wing membrane connected pretty low down on the body (near or on the tail), providing a large area for lift. I believe this membrane was a lighter color than the scales around it, and I have the distinct feeling that I could flush blood into it to make it change color—red, I think? Maybe it was just some markings that could appear. I’m not sure.

Along driiv back were spikes or spines, of a similar color to the horns, lined up perfectly with the stripes. I know that driit had some kind of dangerous weapon on the dip of driiv tail, and I know that this thing had three sharp points, but its exact shape and color, I’m less sure on. I know that the tail itself was fairly flexible, especially near the tip, but was most assuredly a powerful weapon when needed. Driiv belly was lightly plated, providing protection for the vital organs. Driit also, of course, had sharp teeth and a forked tongue, although two of driiv teeth were elongated and poked slightly out of the mouth when shut, which I tend to call driiv fangs.

The Binding

Back in August of 2023, I tripped over an image that made dragonbrain click on and triggered a fear response as well as a flood of noemata. The post I wrote at the time of that discovery is here, but I’ll write it out in a more comprehensible format, both for your convenience and so that I have a more organized version in general.

Some kind of humanoid species (not humans) on my planet found and trapped me when I was quite young, and dragged me to a structure not dissimilar to the image I found, not far from or in one of their cities. My limbs and jaws were chained so that I couldn’t fight or escape, and I so clearly remember feeling my claws and scales scrape over that rough, coarse stone, and the sound of the chains dragging across it. Some of the humanoids rode other dragons, who were clearly enslaved and, in many ways, broken. They had no choice but to obey, or face punishment. Their eyes were dull and they passed over me without registering me, because to acknowledge that such a young dragon was facing their same fate was, I imagine, too painful.

For the record, I was so young that I thought I might be able to carry one of these humanoids, maybe, and not all of my red markings had come in yet. I was very young.

For some reason or another—maybe I was misbehaving, maybe this was protocol with all new dragons, I don’t know—they dragged me to a dungeon underneath a great arena where they made some dragons that they figured they could never turn into mounts fight for their amusement. I was chained up down there, fairly tightly, barely fed and barely able to move. There were a couple of other dragons down there with me, in the dark and the damp, curled up on those horrible stone bricks just like I was. I could barely see them, it was so dark, but they could see me, their eyes more adjusted due to years or decades down here.

My primary companion was a dull red dragon, an adult male, as far as I can figure. I don’t remember muuv name, but it started with an Ez- or an El- with a z in there somewhere, and ended in -iel or something along those lines. Elaziel, Ezkhaliel, Ezkerial, Elzariel? I don’t remember. I wish I did. I remember muut being as reassuring as muut could be, trying to do muuv best for this poor scared youngling. Muut was beaten and broken but incapable of either fighting or being a mount—one or more of muuv limbs were gone or broken and healed incorrectly. Muut couldn’t fly and I think muut struggled to walk. I don’t know why the humanoids kept muut alive, but I do know that I reinvigorated muuk, and muut decided to do whatever muut could to get me out.

I don’t remember what happened, really. All I know is that, at some point, there was an escape, and multiple dragons made it out, or at least tried to. I remember the red dragon shouting “Mor anor axid, mor anor axid! Mor anor axid veran!”, which is Dranonic for “Let them fly, let them fly! Let them fly away!” with “anor” being distinctly plural—you would never call a single dragon “anor,” indicating that there were multiple dragons trying to get away. I know muut wasn’t among them—muut would never make it out, and I’m sure that the humanoids killed him after. I never looked back. I never saw.

I know that there was a light green dragon involved in all that, a female, I think. Muut was chained down there with myself and the red dragon, and maybe others. Maybe muut was the other one in “anor.” I don’t know. I don’t remember much about muut.

I do remember part of the escape—the red dragon’s shouted pleas, the hesitation of the dragon mounts, the sting of the dragonbone arrows fired from the humanoids that pierced my scales (because of course they harvested the bodies of their spent slaves, why wouldn’t they, the bastards), the screaming of my underused wing muscles as I tore out of that place and never looked back, not once.

I never returned. Not even as an adult, not even once my fifth horn came in. I flew far, far away, and never drew closer again. I never wanted to see that place, never wanted to fear it, never wanted to risk it. My two fears as a dragon were that place and the ocean, and the second, I feel, had some kind of horrible dragon-slaughtering beast in it that was a long, instinctive, genetic terror. That horrible place beat it out by miles.

A Couple Other Memories

I remember other things, too, not just that whole… sequence, or what I talked about before. I know that there were some kind of “dragon mimics” out there, some kind of insectoid things that looked like dragons at a distance but revealed what they were close up. They’d either do displays intended to anger a dragon and draw them close, or courtship displays to interest a dragon. Either way, once a dragon was close enough for the mimic to strike, it was too late. A lot of insectoid dragon designs set off my dragonbrain’s “mimic alarm,” and it’s kind of interesting to play with and see what triggers it and what doesn’t. I’m sure I had personal experience with them—I have too clear of a mental image of one trying to lure me in for anything else—but I don’t know the specifics.

One of the memories that I’ve had, crystal clear, for a long time, is my death. I was falling from a great height, wings too damaged to hold me, uselessly streaming behind me as I fell. Selkhenar flew down with me in a panic, knowing muut could never catch me (I was far bigger than muuk), trying to talk me into getting my wings sorted out and at least slowing my fall or something. I remember there being wounds all over me—I’d been losing some great, horrible battle—and peering at Selkhenar, thinking it was very sweet of muuk to be so worried about me but I was clearly lost, muut needed to get out of here—and then a sharp pain at the base of my skull, where it connects to my spine, and nothing. I feel like it was some sort of projectile, well-aimed, that took me out instantly.

I’m still afraid of heights without my wings.

Wrap-Up

There’s more, I’m sure. More specific essays that I feel like I can write now that I’ve gotten most of it down. I could write an essay on draconic courtship, or what little I know of rearing offspring, or whatever else comes to mind. For now, though—that’s most of it. That’s The Everything. I’ve been meaning to put this together for a long time, and now I have, and I hope it’s helpful to someone—either in understanding me, or in understanding yourself. I know that, when you’re questioning something, reading about someone else’s experiences helps a lot. I’ve never felt like talking about my dragon kintype was ever going to be terribly helpful in that regard—after all, there’s a dozen other similar essays out there—but I decided, well, it’s not for other people. It’s for me. And no one’s written four thousand words detailing my kintype before.

That’s the thing about writing like this. It’s for you, and if it helps someone else, that’s just a bonus. Write what will help you, what will let you figure yourself out and document it so that, if it changes, you can pinpoint when that was and track your own growth and change. I wonder what, in a few years, will be inaccurate in this essay? I wonder what I will add, what I will change, in a theoretical future version?

I guess we’ll find out together. Thanks for reading.

[reallyghostlypost]

[Fic] The dangers of camping in the valley's forests

You know what Stardew Valley needs? More cryptids and unknown creatures. Also more fics with Jadu and Gill.

Jadu wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He actually liked whenever Camilla was sending him to visit Marlon, listening to him and Gill share stories and gossip around the campfire was always a delight, but he really couldn't get used with the weather in the Valley. Autumn nights here were always bitter cold for him, used with either the desert heat or the dry cold nights of the Badlands, not these humid winds that seem to seep into your bones. He took another gulp of hot mulled wine and looked up at the mountains.

The nature surrounding them was already shrouded in darkness despite the sky still having a greyish orange tint from the setting sun. The vegetation was too thick to see even a foot forward and to someone trained to fight in open terrain of the corrupted desert it felt really claustrophobic. Shadow brutes, or any monster really, could be just a few steps away from him and he wouldn't be any wiser.

Jadu moved closer to the fire, feeling his teeth start to clatter. Really, he wasn't a child any longer to get scared by creepy stories told around the fire. But he couldn't help but feel that the shadows between the trees were unnaturally dark. He realized that Marlon stopped speaking a while ago and that made him tense suddenly. What was happening?

Looking up he noticed both Marlon and Gill staring at the same spot... tree? Jadu tried to see whatever got their attention but there didn't seem to be anything there. A sound then came from the darkness, like a stream of water running over rocks. Were they this close to the river? But listening closer he could also hear whispers, like a group of people were close by speaking silently with each other. Jadu gripped the wand stashed in his robes.

He was started to feel dizzy. This odd noise of water and whispers reminded him when he was training with Camilla by the river. He still didn't know what potion she gave him that time, but it was supposed to help him communicate with the elementals. The river then started to speak with him in a similar way, to call him with whispers hidden beneath the clear sound of running water, awfully familiar, and Jadu knew that he would be able to understand what it was telling him if only he could get a little closer. He could feel his mouth numb, a weird sweet taste on his tongue. He was so close to the water now, only a step forward and he could fall in the river to join the whispers, when a hand shot up to stop him from drowning himself.

Jadu jumped violently pulling the wand from his robes only to point it at Gill. "Sorry lad, but you looked really out of it." Gill apologized before removing his hand from his shoulder. Jadu was still panting trying to figure out what was happening. He could feel sweat on his back despite the cold air surrounding them.

"That owl is back." Marlon said in a tired voice. Jadu looked at the scarred adventurer then back at the same tree Marlon has been watching before, but he still couldn't see anything. Gill patted his shoulder without a word and pointed at a branch higher up in the tree and that's when Jadu noticed it. It was a small white owlet with black spots all over its feathers, small enough that could fit in the palm of his hand, but it was... wrong. Its almond shaped eyes were pitch black, with no pupils or irises, and was that a third eye on its forehead or just another black spot?

As soon as he laid eyes on the small owl his head cleared and most of the cold and dread was gone. Were they caused by the critter? Now that he was less confused Jadu could definitely recognize it as a dark elemental, inhuman spirit birthed from the darkness of the forests covering so much of the southern part of the Ferngill Republic.

The owlet opened its small black beak and the same weird water sounds mixed with whispers came out from it. Jadu could feel his ears getting stuffy, and the same coldness was starting to encroach him again. Marlon picked a rock and threw it at the bird who flew off with a horrible scream, like dozens of bats screeching at the same time. Just as it disappeared into the brown dry foliage Jadu noticed that it had a second identical face on the back of its head, it's second pair of eyes staring straight at him, making the hair at the back of his head stand up.

"Don't worry." Marlon reassured him as he poured more hot wine in his mug and urging him to drink. The heat of the wine felt good. "You'll get used with its magic soon enough and it won't affect you this badly."

"It hid into a crack of our roof for a while and we couldn't understand why we kept having nightmares or hallucinated in the middle of the day." Gill chuckled. "It wasn't pleasant, but the owl seems otherwise harmless. It keeps following us around and tries to get back into that crack before we chase it away, so we got used with it by now."

"More and more spirits like that have started to appear. Magnus has been working overtime trying to keep the dangerous ones from getting close to the town so he doesn't have time to chase away the smaller elementals from mingling with humans. We considered requesting a meeting with Camilla but things are under control for now and we don't want to take more of her time."

"Weird." Jadu managed to say before starting to cough. His throat felt weird and dry which made him scowl. Why was he so affected that small spirit?

Marlon gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't beat yourself up lad. You're trained to deal with desert spirits not forest ones. Spend more time here and you'll recognize their magic before they can charm you."

"Yeah." Gill remarked dryly. "Like we did last week when we started accusing each other of whispering in the middle of the night." Marlon huffed amused at that before taking a sip from his own mug.

"I'll speak with Camilla about this, maybe she can think of some solution without the need of a whole council meeting." Jadu picked a dry fish from the pile of food placed between them. "When did it start to happen?"

Marlon and Gill looked at each other for a second before Gill cleared his throat. "When spring came around and the new farmer moved in the valley."

"Farmer?" Jadu was confused. What did a farmer had to do with spirits and elementals acting weird?

"Oh, kid." Marlon sighted. "You have no idea what a long history that cursed farm has."

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Open Practice

Pairing: CJ Stroud X Black!FemReader

Description: Football players, in your experience, are either childish, toxic or horrible communicators; your ex just so happened to be all of the above. But it’s been a few years and people can change. Or will a certain qb decide to pick up the pieces your ex left behind?

Warnings: Toxic Ex!Brevin Jordan

Word Count: 800+

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Walking into NRG Park felt odd. You’ve been to a football stadium before but not before noon or because your ex-boyfriend invited you to his open practice. Your relationship was like open practice actually, you practiced being the best girlfriend and he liked being open, for everyone.

Texas was huge, they were right when they said everything’s bigger in Texas. Including egos, you realized when you received a text from Brevin minutes after tagging Houston in your story.

From: No Air Jordan 🏈

Hey baby, heard you were in my city😁 Swing by tmr’s practice and watch me cook then I’ll show ya around 😉

You honestly thought he must’ve taken too many shots to the head, your breakup consisted of a few long texts and pure ignorance so you assumed he got the idea. Yet here you are sitting in the bleachers of the Houston stadium. You wandered around for a total of 15 minutes searching for somewhere to sit. Brevin only sent the one text so you had no idea where to go or where he even was. You almost left and forgot about him but a player in a #7 jersey stopped you.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” Damn dreads, pretty eyes and perfect ass lips.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was invited by someone on the team, but he’s not replying to me. So I was just gonna go.” You replied sheepishly.

“That’s cool, but if you want you could come over to my section. We’ll be done in about an hour and the view’s better over here.” He smiled.

He was cute, smooth and nothing like B, exactly your type. “Yea, I think I’d like that..”

“Oh sorry, I’m CJ. Quarterback.” Team leader = good communication. Noted.

“Y/n.” A whistle went off and grabbed CJ’s attention. “I guess that means ‘back to work.”

“Yea, we’ll talk after practice.” He flashed his award-winning smile once more then jogged back to center field. I’m definitely staying.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Watching CJ- the Texans practice was actually pretty fun, you never could pay attention during their real games because of the boisterous crowd, but here on the secluded practice field you could actually focus on the players and didn’t have large men yelling in your ears.

Truth be told CJ looked electric out there. Everything he did lit up the light crowd, which makes sense with all his clean complete passes. His offense was ten times better than their defense, which sucks when it comes to game time, but what can you do?

Every once in a while he’d look back at our section and smile, just for a moment you let yourself believe it’s you he’s looking at.

Unbeknownst to you and Stroud, Brevin also noticed how he was looking in your direction. His face would tense up and for each play he’d ignore all instructions and go after the quarterback. Since he was on defense it wasn’t that long of a stretch between his duties and his actions, but he got pancaked after every attempt.

By the time practice was over, your ex was even more angered than before thanks to the amount of bruises he accumulated over the last two hours. Then he saw you and CJ talking, suddenly all his anger was justified.

=͟͟͞͞♡

“I really enjoy talking to you Y/n. Is there any way I can persuade you into joining me in getting a bite to eat?” You lightly bit your bottom lip, the corners curling upwards at his question.

“I would love that-

“I hope you know she hates barbecue, and she don’t do relationships especially with athletes.” The voice of your emotionally incompetent egomaniac ex boyfriend interrupts you from afar.

Rolling your eyes you decide to pay him no mind and just turn back to the nice guy in front of you. “As I was saying, lunch sounds great.”

Then Brevin inserts himself again, now only the field barricade separates you. “You should know who you’re getting involved with CJ, they call her Jennifer because she’s a maneater.” He wears a mischievous grin and defensive stance.

You scoff, “a maneater who’s only here because my loser ex boyfriend slid in my DMs the second I got to Texas. A maneater that was thinking about maybe hearing you out after our relationship went wrong. Even better, a maneater that was nothing but faithful to your misogynistic womanizer ass.”

“If I’m such a misogynistic womanizer why did you come?” He smirks thinking he finally got one over you.

“I heard your quarterback was way bigger than you, so I had to come check that out.” He flared his nostrils, and stormed off the field, but not before spiking his helmet.

“Jordan you’re getting fined for that!”

CJ chuckles to himself, impressed at the way you handled him. “Did you mean it?” He smirked.

You lean over the barricade and breathily whisper in his ear. “Every word.”

Then pull back to watch his face as he sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth.

“Let’s get outta here.”

~

Walking out of NRG Park felt odd. Not because of unsatisfying BJ, but because it was the first time you’ve walked out of a football stadium and enjoyed the outcome of events.

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ °

A/N: this sat in my drafts for too long, but I’m overcoming my posting anxiety and letting it see the light. Also I hit 100 followers🤭 tysm babes. #Track9 tonite❕

Main Masterlist

[inkskinned]

i. about 2 weeks ago, i was told there's a good chance that in 5 or so years, i'll need a wheelchair.

ii. okay. i loved harry potter as a kid. i have a hypothesis about this to be honest - why people still kind of like it. it's that she got very lucky. she managed to make a cross-generational hit. it was something shared for both parents and kids. it was right at the start of a huge cultural shift from pre to post-internet. i genuinely think many people were just seeking community; not her writing. it was a nice shorthand to create connection. which is a long way of saying - she didn't build this legacy, we built it for her. she got lucky, just once. that's all.

iii. to be real with you, i still struggle with identifying as someone with a disability, which is wild, especially given the ways my life has changed. i always come up against internalized ableism and shame - convinced even right now that i'm faking it for attention. i passed out in a grocery store recently. i hit my head on the shelves while i went down.

iv. he raises his eyebrows while he sends me a look. her most recent new book has POTS featured in it. okay, i say. i already don't like where this is going. we both take another bite of ramen. it is a trait of the villain, he says. we both roll our eyes about it.

v. so one of the things about being nonbinary but previously super into harry potter is that i super hate jk rowling. but it is also not good for my mental health to regret any form of joy i engaged with as a kid. i can't punish my young self for being so into the books - it was a passion, and it was how i made most of my friends. everyone knew about it. i felt like everyone had my same joy, my same fixation. as a "weird kid", this sense of belonging resonated with me so loudly that i would have done anything to protect it.

vi. as a present, my parents once took me out of school to go see the second movie. it is an incredibly precious memory: my mom straight-up lying about a dentist appointment. us snickering and sneaking into the weekday matinee. within seven years of this experience, the internet would be a necessity to get my homework finished. the world had permanently changed. harry potter was a relic, a way any of us could hold onto something of the analog.

vii. by sheer luck, the year that i started figuring out the whole gender fluid thing was also the first year people started to point out that she might have some internalized biases. i remember tumblr before that; how often her name was treated as godhood. how harry potter was kind of a word synonymous for "nerdy but cool." i would walk out of that year tasting he/him and they/them; she would walk out snarling and snapping about it.

viii. when i teach older kids creative writing, i usually tell them - so, she did change the face of young adult fiction, there's no denying that. she had a lot more opportunities than many of us will - there were more publishing houses, less push for "virally" popular content creators. but beyond reading another book, we need to write more books. we need to uplift the voices of those who remain unrepresented. we need to push for an exposure to the bigotry baked into the publishing system. and i promise you: you can write better than she ever did. nothing she did was what was magical - it was the way that the community responded to it.

ix. i get home from ramen. three other people have screenshotted the POTS thing and sent it to me. can you fucking believe we're still hearing this shit from her when it's almost twenty-fucking-twenty-three. the villain is notably also popular on tumblr. i just think that's funny. this woman is a billionaire and she's mad that she can't control the opinions of some people on a dying blue site that makes no money. lady, and i mean this - get a fucking life.

x. i am sorry to the kid i was. maybe the kid you were too. none of us deserved to see something like this ruined. that thing used to be precious to me. and now - all those good times; measured into dust.

/// 9.6.2022 // FUCKING AGAIN, JK? Are you fucking kidding me?