#snippet of something longer that i wrote

[akindplace]

I hope you get all the rest you need. Even if you spent a quieter day and didn’t feel productive, please allow yourself to rest without guilt or shame for not “earning” it. You don’t have to burn yourself out to prove that you need rest. It’s a very human thing to need sleep, to need a break, to need nourishing, to want to take some personal quiet time. Please allow yourself to rest. Even if it’s “too early” to go to bed, even if you spent all day in bed trying to recover from anything. If your body needs sleep, please allow yourself to have it, there should be no rules as to earning sleep.

[storiesfromvoturn]

audio drama script writing is very funny for me. i do it in the most unintuitive manner.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi!! What do I do if I have an idea for a story but can't seem to develop it far enough? Or, I can't decide on how a certain event or setting should play out?

Writing Tips: Developing Story Ideas

Use a Plot Structure

Example: HOW TO TELL A STORY (Peter Rubie)

Once upon a time, something happened to someone,

and he decided that he would pursue a goal.

So he devised a plan of action,

and even though there were forces trying to stop him,

he moved forward because there was a lot at stake.

And just as things seemed as bad as they could get,

he learned an important lesson,

and when offered the prize he had sought so strenuously,

he had to decide whether or not to take it,

and in making that decision he satisfied a need

that had been created by something in his past.

When Writing a Plot Driven Story, Answer These Questions About Each of Your Main Characters:

What is the character’s back story?

What is the character’s personality?

How was the character’s personality shaped by his/her backstory?

How does each scene develop the character?

What is driving the character’s reaction within the scene (based on his/her back story)?

How does your character change within the course of the story?

What is the character’s internal conflict?

What is the character most afraid of?

How would he/she define happiness?

When Writing a Character Driven Story, Answer These Questions About Your Plot:

What does your character want to happen in each scene?

Is there tension or conflict within each scene?

What action does the character take within each scene?

How does this action move the story forward?

How does each scene contribute to the overall story?

What is the worst thing that can happen to your character(s)?

How does your character prevent it from happening?

What happens if your character cannot prevent it from happening?

What key events change the main characters in your story?

Brainstorm Ideas

Use flash cards. Think of a topic. Take ten blank flash cards and on one side of each flash card, write a line about this topic. Use a mixture of emotional detail, concrete detail, and images when writing these lines. Put all the cards face down in front of you. Turn five of these cards over, face-up. What kind of story is this? What questions remain? Experiment with which five cards should be turned up in order to create a story that is both mysterious and clear enough for the emotions to be anchored.

Eavesdrop. Carry your notebook with you as you go about your daily tasks and write down interesting things you overhear. At the end of the day, go over the snippets of conversation you wrote down and, rather than thinking about the content of the conversation, analyze how it was said. What have you learned about the way people speak? Incorporate this speech rhythm into a new story.

Analyze your every move. In the evening, write a list of 20 things you did that day. Use this form: “I washed the dishes, I ate an avocado, I read the newspaper,” and so on. The only rule is: don’t list the things in chronological order. Review your list of 20 activities and see if any of them spark the beginning of a story. Try to make use of one of these seemingly mundane activities to write a longer story.

Free write. Take your notebook and give yourself 10 minutes to simply write whatever comes to mind, not letting your pen or pencil leave the page, and not revising. After 10 minutes have passed, review what you wrote. How do the subject and tone change from the beginning to the end? Is there anything you might want to lift for a new story?

Explore Your Surroundings

Find inspiration in your environment and everyday activities:

Take a walk. Go on a walk and bring your notebook. Look around and write down observations on what you see: a tree, a person, a neighborhood. Try starting a story by using some of these descriptions.

Find an interesting object. Whether you’re in an office or a kitchen, a park or a library, choose an object you can see and describe it. Does it evoke personal memories? Does it have cultural implications, or elicit a certain emotion? Try starting a story with this object and its associations to guide you.

Play With Setting

Transport your story idea to different time periods and locales:

Write a few lines setting a scene that is easy to accept. Think about the example of snow on pine trees or a dog lying under a hammock. Establish a scene of your own. Then have your story take a twist. Take your reader and yourself somewhere very different—spatially or thematically—from your original scene.

Subvert the norms. Don’t censor yourself. Don’t feel that you have to be serious, or even sincere. You can be playful, even sarcastic in your stories. Think of a subject that may seem outside of today’s literary decorum and write a story about it.

Look Inward

You are the greatest muse for your own story. The following exercises require you to mine ideas from your personal life:

Does your personality make its way into your stories? Think of what kind of social person you are and consider the feedback you get from others about your personality—from family, friends, and others. Write a story that is spoken in your natural speaking voice. This story need not exhibit your best self. Try allowing the story to be controlled by a voice other than the one that shows you off. Write a story that lets the ruggedness of your life drive the voice.

Start a letter to someone you know, would like to know, or once knew. The rule is: assume that they won’t see it. Start this letter by addressing this person directly (think “Dear X”). After you’ve written a few lines or sentences, try to incorporate this as dialogue in your story.

Imitate Writers

Imitation is the best form of flattery. Look to writers you admire for inspiration in your own writing. The following writing exercises borrow concepts from other authors:

Mimic voice. Think of some of the writers or stories you admire. These could be books you’ve discovered in this course or longtime favorites. Pick one of these and read it over and over again, noting the methods the author uses to achieve his or her voice? Notice how the story develops stage by stage. How does it find its way through itself? See if you can write a story that follows a similar style of organization or path of development. This is more than an exercise; it’s a way of opening yourself to the influences of other authors.

Create tension. Use space to create suspense, putting the reader on the same level of knowing and not knowing as the speaker. Write a story that describes one large action and uses spacing as a way to force the reader to pause, creating tension and suspense as the action of your story progresses.

Use a Writing Template. Examples:

A 7-Part Book Development Template. Take your story from a vague book idea to an impactful first draft.

Plot Planning Worksheet. Acts 1-3.

The Story Circle by Dan Harmon. A basic narrative structure that writers can use to structure and test their story ideas.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Writing References on Plot ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, here are some tips and templates from previous posts, a few were modified to better answer your questions. Choose which ones you would like to try and see which works. You can find more tips in the sources. All the best with your writing!

[jupiterpiss]

GIYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS IMAGINE IMAGINE IMAGINE WITH ME! Let’s hold hands in a circle please and let me say something real thoughtful about our Irish lad Remmick.

Btw.. I wrote this at 3:54 a.m.. and I had an exam the next day.. so, I promise there is a shit ton of mistakes in here just.. JUST DONT LOOK AT THEM OKAY GUYS

Slight gore and NSFW below the cut!!

Remmick with a werewolf reader. Her family.. a long long LONG heritage of wolves that date back to who fucking knows when, made a deal with the Choctaw in order to have peace between them. Because before they would hunt them, or more so both groups would hunt each other, and eventually they found that harmony would do much better than anything. Especially cause they hear whispers of something inhuman.. unnatural lurking its way in the shadows, that feasts on the blood of the innocent and burns under the brightness of the sun.

They both make a deal to never associate with vampires, and to instead protect the land from them and to protect each other. There was strength in numbers. And both groups are amazing at just keeping to them selves when need be, aside from helping against danger— both really don’t fuck around with evil shit. They’re good.

But Remmick doesn’t give TWO SHITS!! Bro doesn’t not give a FUCK and aside from the fact that he never messed around with werewolves before cause uh duh.. he comes across one, a young woman— freshly riped, beautiful. Has the stars of the night twinkled in her eyes, the soft winds in her words and the warmth of the sun in her laugh. She holds life he’s never seen before.. and he wants that pussy NOWHHHHHHH

So he literally won’t leave this poor girl alone, he comes every night to her doorstep, pleading to be let in. That doesn’t work, and so he thinks coaxing her with sweet words and a charming smile might.. nah. She doesn’t fuck around like that.

BUT!! She doesn’t close the door.. and once his freaky ass stops drooling at her doorstep and instead he just talks.. really talks and listens, is when he actually falls a bit deeper. At which that point on the man is in love. Plain and simple. Before he wanted to be burrowed in between her thighs.. and he still really wants that but he also thinks he might want to lay with her after. Trace her features, softly hum to her, maybe even idk cook dinner for her? Love on her?

It’s how she speaks of her experiences, her memories, her family— this fondness, this gentle nature she holds. As if she cradles each story with her hands, and places them gently into his lap. Something for him to hold as well. She radiants love, really. And when he speaks back his own stories, of Ireland, of his people, the memories slipped away in the crevices of his mind.. she listens. Just as he does.. she really listens. Gives her own questions, comments on little things, holds his own memories with the same care that she does hers. And something about it just.. RAHHH it changes the dude ya know.

But don’t let that little snippet of joy fool you.. he WILL be ravishing that POOOSAYYYY lemme say that cause dude.. when the full moon calls, and she starts to switch into something mean. Cruel, hairy and tall, pure rage and festering hunger— well he’s a bit scared lol. At first.. like he sees her bones break and her flesh tear as it makes way for fur.. and a snout.. and some claws with sharp teeth it almost puts his own to shame. It’s fucking terrifying. But it’s later on.. when the moon is no longer full, she’s far from home, her appetite for flesh is gone, and all is left is a naked frame of a woman with blood painted across her skin.. she shows up to where he says he lives. Some part down by the road, near North Carolina apparently. She’s real fucking far.

And real fucking naked and she can’t just walk home bloody AND naked so she just.. decides to go to his house. Cause.. well.. he’s all that will probably help right now.

But she shows, still smothered in sweat and blood of someone or something else that she can’t quite remember.

He pratically DROOLS at the sight of her, damn near falls to his knees begging her for some of that causeeee ur saying this fine assssssss woman, covered in blood that just mauled a shit ton of wildlife and maybe a small village of people somewhere.. is at HIS doorstep.. naked as the day she was birthed.. on top of the fact that she trusted him enough to GO THERE??

That man is really fucking annoying lemme just say that cause he gets her in there, nice and cozy, before he starts tracing his way up her legs, between the skin of her thighs.

He keeps sweet talking her.. all like “yer’ good now, baby. Safe here’ with me”

And gives her some old washed out robe of his, something from far before her time, which she sits in, still bloody.

He makes her a small snack of some sort, wild berries and random stuff outside, all edible. Puts them together clumsily, presents it before her on a small plate.

She tried apologizing for yesterday night. How horrific the sight must’ve been.. which is ironic given how he’s literally a vampire but wtv.. and he’s just like “Girl, you could’ve torn the flesh straight off my bones— still would’ve allowed you in.” Which is like… okay?? Weird? Why would u do that.. but there’s a part of her that grows almost dizzy with that knowledge, that even if she were to tear him tf up.. he would still be happy as a fucking peach.

It’s not too long before he’s eating her out like come on guys.. let’s be honest. It wouldn’t take much.

He’s going to town, straight crazy style. He’s fucking that shit UPPPP okay? He’s spitting on her clit, licking his name into her, lightly nipping at the skin of her thighs.

She’s no better, she’s moaning and huffing, pushing at his shoulders as an attempt to get him to just back the fuck off cause hello?? She already came four fucking times she thinks she’s good but he literally won’t stop. And she’s sobbing on the table he placed her on, spread out like a god damn meal, open and bare and still bloody cause lord knows he wouldn’t want her to wipe it off.

And it’s fucked ip cause… well.. she sorta broke the deal. The deal her parents engraved into her head, warned her about. About how vampires are tricky bastards, how they only take and never give. She thinks of this as he rips out another orgasm from her, legs shaky, breath hitched and face wet with tears.. she really gets it now.

And given how he kisses slowly back up her again.. and how he gives a small smile before lightly brushing a tear away, eyes tracing over her features, giddy as a young boy with a school crush.. she’s starting to think he’ll never not take from her again.

[aealzx]

Ooooookay I admit I'm a sucker for cross dress episodes that are tasteful/done well. And with that a sucker for cute boys in pretty clothes that go ding ding when they move X'DDD Girls in pretty clothes is a thing too, but then I'd have to draw boobs and I'd rather not |P

I started watching Sonic Underground.... for reasons I cant remember, and ittttt's actually not as terrible as I remember X'D The character designs are still horrid, and there's definitely some ugly dated stuff in there when it comes to other cultures. But the cross dress episode surprised me because I think the boys handled the situation very well. No complaints, all compliments to each other, and just vibing doing a job =u= I liked it enough that I gave into my like of drawing belly dancer clothes and doodled them while trying to adapt Happ's version into it.

Also enjoy this dumb lil meme snippet I wrote along with this.

___

“I still don’t understand how you’re better at this than Sonia,” Manic admitted with a chuckle, trying not to stare at the eye liner brush coming towards his eye.

“Experience,” Sonic answered simply from where he was sitting on Manic’s belly while he was laying on the floor, trying to get him not to move. “Now look up and stop moving- I said look up, not straight at the brush.”

Sonic was amused, but Manic was more worried about getting his eye stabbed. “Shouldn’t you worry about your own makeup?” Manic tried to defer, fidgeting nervously.

“Mine won’t take as long,” Sonic countered, giving a small sigh and giving up on being patient, free hand reaching up to grab Manic’s cheeks to hold him still. It would have been incredibly funny to watch him immediately squint as soon as the brush touched his eyelid, but the time crunch made it a little hard to enjoy. Getting Manic’s quills to lay flat had taken way longer than expected.

“Can’ yu jush s’per sp’d it?”

Okay that earned a small snort.

“Sure, if you don’t mind the burn of something zipping across your face extremely fast,” Sonic teased, grinning. “Close your eyes now.”

That was at least a little easier. Not being able to see the strange soft torture instrument coming allowed Manic to try to relax. “Yeah, no thanks,” he agreed, still flinching at each touch of the strangely cold feeling ink. “...This feels disgusting,” he complained after Sonic finished lining both eyes.

Sonic just chuckled again. “Sure does! But we’ll both look awesome. And unrecognizable. So deal with it. I’ll let you roll in the mud once we get the others back if you want.”

Manic snorted at the offer, feeling like that would be the opposite of what he would want. But who knew. Maybe a good mud bath would help him feel more like himself after all this dolling up. It was hard to not try to rub the makeup off his face. But it was a little impressive to watch Sonic put makeup on himself once he was done tormenting his brother. Smooth, practiced swoops with the eyeliner, not even looking at the mirror at some points. Dabbing his cheeks rapidly into a perfect blush. Tracing his lips with a different brush. At least the fake eyelashes didn’t look like something he was used to wearing.

True to Sonic’s word though, when he was done Manic had a hard time recognizing either of them. Something made incredibly apparent when he stepped closer to his brother and caught sight of his own reflection from the corner of his eye, jumping in startle and whipping around to look at it.

“What?” Sonic questioned, immediately concerned.

“I thought someone else was here,” Manic wheezed, breaking into a laugh as he put a hand over his racing heart, sagging.

Sonic just laughed aloud as well, taking that as a compliment on his work.

[confessioncassette]

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Part 1

“you and me alone in the dark, forever i stay, with you”

summary : after having a drug fueled revelation on his life, Thanos decided to create a private account. For weeks, this account was his sanctuary where he could “unplug” from the normalities of his life of partying. With no one to watch him, no one to make fun of what his interests were, he posted snippets of his daily life and created an algorithm that suited his secret interests. And one day, he had stumbled upon you.

tw : taking drugs, pinning, not proof read, reader knows little Korean

words : 5.7k

notes : this is a longer version of my drabble. In this specific AU (without the games), I wrote Thanos as someone who longs for a bond and needs someone to understand him on a deeper level. This maybe out of character juuuust a tad from him in the games, but this is what I feel like he would be as Choi Subong rather than Thanos.

“I tried this shit a while back and it’s wild, bro.”

Nam-Gyu sits cross legged on the floor before his friend, an outstretched hand pedestals two little colorful tablets in his palm. Thanos eyes widen, lips curling downward as he shifts over his tailbone.

“Don’t give me that shit,” the black haired man pushed the other playfully, “trust me, I wouldn’t give you this if I didn’t already know what it felt like. It was eye-opening, bro.”

Thanos shakes his head, “I don't know bro, I’ve never taken something like that before.”

Nam-Gyu clicks his tongue, “just trust me. I’m taking it with you.” His eyes shift to look at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “It's similar to shrooms,” he muses, “Plus, I’m a good trip guide. I won’t let you do any crazy shit.”

Thanos stares at the colorful tablets laid before him, contemplating if this was a good idea. It’s not like he hasn’t tried this stuff before, or worse, but this was newer on the market and Nam-Gyu’s past of harder drugs doesn’t set his mind at ease.

“For real, you won’t end up in the street naked or anything. When I tried this a few months back, it literally saved me, bro. It was like, like uh, like I saw all the beauty in the world…” He paused sheepishly before adding, “or some shit.”

Nam-Gyu smiles, “look, I don’t do hard shit anymore, you know this.”

Which was true, Thanos thought. They’ve tried almost everything under the sun when it came to experimenting when they first met, with the exception of needles when it came to Thanos. When it came to trying newer drugs, Su-bong was extra cautious about them being laced. But, his friend is trying it with him, and he’s done it before… what could go wrong?

”This was the same batch you tried before?”

”Yeah, I saved these last two for just us.”

”I take just one?”

”Just one.”

The purple haired man takes a tablet with confidence and pops it in his mouth.

“Now let it dissolve over your tongue,” Nam-Gyu follows his friend by taking the tablet, which eases the other.

“How long will it take?” Thanos lets out a breath, sinking his back to the floor. His friend follows suit, flopping his body to the floor beside him to stare at the ceiling in Thanos’s high rise apartment.

“Won’t be long, bro. Just enjoy the ride.”

The lights in the apartment were already dim. The faint glow of purple LED lights and the twinkle of the night sky of Seoul made a soft atmosphere. The high was gradual but overwhelmingly apparent. Thanos’s body flooded with an initial rush of adrenaline, causing his body to buzz. Time felt all-being, fast as light but slow as molasses, and his body was just an anomaly between it all.

The emotions inside his mind bursted at the seams, exploding with undescribable love and admiration for life. The fleeting thought deep within his mind made him realize that he’s never truly felt appreciative of life before, but he chose to ignore it. How could he ignore the overwhelming excitement for living? This is beautiful. His friend was beautiful, his apartment was beautiful, these lights were mesmerizing.

He stared at Seoul’s skyline for what felt like hours, completely entranced in the way they sparkled. Neon lights flashing on billboards, the barely-there stars peeking through the city’s light pollution. Maybe one day he’ll see the night sky for real and count every star up there. How come he had never realized how beautiful the city was? The people in the street enjoying food, groups sticking together on a night out, a couple hugging each other in an intimate moment and forgetting the world around them.

He wanted to find love like this. Could this feeling be love? Is this what it felt like to appreciate everything he had been through? He had never felt this love with another human being before, but he can remember the last time he had felt love.

When he was a child, he loved to create. This mostly came through rapping and making music, but he also adored creating through drawing and painting. He loved to dance, he loved to express himself in any way possible through a form of art.

Maybe he had lacked this as he got older. With tough times and life experiences, he began to revert inside himself. In school, he got in with the wrong crowd, tried drugs and got hooked at a young age. He became rebellious, ultimately becoming the leader of the pack. He still created music, though, but it was the only mask he had. Rapping got him exclusive invitations to more popular crowds. He had spiraled and partied regularly before it became a lifestyle.

A new girl every night and waking up with regret, on a vicious cycle of drugs and alcohol, partying way past sunrise and waking up just when the sun began to set.

Was he proud of it? He’s lived this life for too long to remember, so he couldn’t tell.

Did he even have his own conscious? Did his lifestyle dull his senses to what really matters? He can’t tell.

All he could feel was right now, this moment in the lick of time. And time was fleeting.

-

Choi Su-bong woke up the next night alone on his couch. He blinked, once, twice before reaching for his phone on the floor beside him. Cringing at the bright screen and scrolling through notifications, Nam-Gyu had left a text a few hours ago.

남규 🙈 (4:14 pm) : I left earlier to make an appointment. I checked on u before i left to make sure ur alive lol i also locked the door. Txt me when you wake

Sighing and rolling on his back, Su-bong sent a response to notify that he was okay before switching apps.

Instagram was his first choice, per usual, and he was immediately flooded with his fellow idols and influencer ‘friends’' posts. Flashy cars, luxurious dinners, lavish outfits that cost hundreds of dollars… it was always the same. He swallowed, noticing his mouth withered before discarding his phone once again over the fur carpet.

It was Friday night, the start to a weekend, where he would usually get up to shower and head out to the high scale clubs to meet with friends. But tonight he only hopped in the shower to cleanse himself and threw on a hoodie and sweats, because he cringed at the thought of doing anything else.

Sitting alone on his plush couch, tv faintly glowing in the back, he racked his brain on his experience from yesterday. It’s actually surprising that he didn’t feel the effects still. It must have been a short term high.

Though short term, it had lasting effects on his system. His thought process tonight was completely different from normal. No doom scrolling, waking up craving immediate numbness or even hungover. Maybe it was time for a wake up call, and this was what he needed. And to think that he was hesitant at first to take them.

He was tired of the surface level relationships and everything that came with that. His entire adult life had been a blur, a ticking time bomb with fleeting memories. Sure, times were fun, but waking up each day feeling like his body got pummeled by a train wasn’t…fun.

He missed art. He missed making music that came from his heart. He missed creating. Not this senselessness that made him fit in.

Pulling out his phone, Su-bong’s slender fingers tapped along the screen.

Create a new account

The blue letters stared back at him, and he was eager to press. Pursing his lips, he contemplates a new name. And why was thinking of anything original so hard right now? It felt like a ghostly pressure, but this was his first choice he’s consciously made in years. Was it really that hard?

He lets out an airy laugh, “shibal.”

Pattering his colorful fingernails along the screen, he came up with Mystic_Legend.

Was it original to his persona? No. But he liked it that way. It was a little ode to himself, but honoring his attachment.

He kept the profile blank for now, not opting to add a profile picture.

This was a clean slate. The explore page filled with vacation pictures of palm trees next to private pools, someone cooking a healthy meal for their family, a few memes - but what caught his attention was a beautiful art piece hung along a blank wall.

What he could perceive as a skinless torso without the flesh, unmasked and slimy twisting up like a tornado. Brilliant hues of blue and dusty grey explode through the top like a cloud exploding and expanding. Thanos was mesmerized by the painting. He’d never seen anything like this before.

His whole body stalled as his eyes scan every detail of the picture for a while. His mind races with thoughts of what could this be? What was the artist interpreting?

But maybe it wasn’t up for interpretation, maybe it was to feel.

What he felt was a tainted soul blossoming into something new.

This was a deep connection, a coincidence to a new path of life.

A beginning.

-

Su-bong spent less time on social media in the following weeks. From what used to be entertaining fans through comments, responding to DM’s, collaborating with other big artists and liking videos of his appearances and shows to spending most of his time on his burner account.

He had grown an algorithm catered to interests long forgotten and had followed things that genuinely interested him. From thousands of followers to zero, from following a few hundred to 13. It was refreshing, to Su-bong. Something he had needed.

No followers didn’t stop him from posting his daily routine. It was rather fun, actually. Posting things that he was doing without having thousands of people watching his every move. It felt more invigorating to post things that were out of his online persona.

An americano from the cafe down the street, his weights at the gym, his record collection, his at-home studio setup, a new pair of shoes he just bought, a colorful sunset from his apartment, a video of him filming the Han River as he went on a run.

He found a new love in posting things that caught his eye, a new love for things he didn’t really see before.

Nam-Gyu was always around, too. Like usual, he’d stop by the apartment to share a drink or smoke a blunt. The two would watch movies and order take out every few days, leaving Nam-Gyu to pass out on the couch for the night. The bond they shared was always special in regards to the fakeness of the crowd Thanos hung around, so it was natural and comfortable keeping him close.

Though, he’d never share the burner account. That was solely his.

Thanos would still keep a presence online through his main account, but not as much. Fans would ask if things were okay on his posts, but he never responded to those. He did his tasks led by management and kept his social life relatively strong to cause any other suspicion.

However, he did loosen the reins on making appearances. In a span of 2 weeks, he didn’t show up to any night clubs or perform at any shows, much to his managers' dislike. However, he continued to make music, music like he’s never created before.

His new routine would be spending hours in his guest bedroom/home studio making music from his soul. Raps about love and heartbreak, about a life he feels like he’d never lived. Raps about living vicariously through movies, how he longs for companionship but can’t seem to allow himself. Raw emotions would flow, allowing himself to set in a new territory of his mind and heart.

It was like therapy. Years of burden lifted off his shoulder poured into his music. Sometimes angry and intense, spitting painful memories and emotions through the mic - and others loving and soft, thoughtful for genuine affection.

Choi Su-bong felt at ease for the first time since he was a child.

Nestled in his king bed, damp hair draping over his brow, he scrolled through his explore page.

A beautiful face he had scrolled past.

Scrolling back up, he tapped on your picture with lightning speed.

A simple photo, but unremarkable. You posed in a simple dress that accentuated your body modestly, holding the phone up to take a selfie in a park.

Officially 1 month in Seoul!

Seoul? You’re here?

Swiping to your profile, he noticed that you didn’t have much. With only following barely over a hundred people and less than 40 followers, you were an anomaly.

You didn’t even have a caption, just a simple text heart emoji under your name.

Your profile had only 12 photos and 2 of which were you. The rest had been photos of your adventures. A photo of a record store, good food you had tried here in Korea, and pictures of landscapes.

Thanos eagerly tapped on the second photo of you.

You were in bed, phone angled high to capture your beauty with flash, holding a plush animal.

I rewarded myself with a friend today

Su-bong swelled, grinning to himself. The plushie you had looked soft, tuffs of its fur touching your cheek as you smiled sweetly back at him. Scrolling down, he found your first post of an airplane illuminated under airport lights.

Today, I start fresh. I’m nervous. #movingtokorea

Checking the date, you had posted this 2 months ago. You must have moved here recently and are living in the same city as him.

Running slender fingers through his hair, Su-Bong considered interacting with you or not. He had scrolled up to see your face at least a dozen times, practically stalking your entire page. Unable to control his emotions, Thanos buzzed with adrenaline.

He’s made the first move countless of times, but not in a… specific way like this. He never had a problem getting the girl he desired for the night, and he never had to try hard at that. This was a completely different situation.

He didn’t want that type of relationship with you. He felt it reverberating deep within his bones. He wanted more than that. Looking through the screen into your eyes marked him in a way he could never describe in words. It was a pulling, a chain that linked and locked with a click deep in his soul.

One message couldn’t hurt? Right? You didn’t even know who he was, or what society had written about him. You didn’t know his past, his current or even his name.

Would it be weird sending you a message? He doesn’t think he could even cope with being left on read by you.

This was fate, this was more than limerence - it was affinity.

-

You sigh, plopping yourself over your couch and covering yourself with a blanket.

Your apartment was small and barren. It was nothing to look at, but it was home. Little trinkets line your bookshelf in the corner of your living room glow under the tv’s light. Scrolling through your apps, you select a comfort show from your childhood and unwind.

Starting a new life in Seoul wasn’t on your bingo card a year ago, but you had made the rash decision for a job with decent pay. You had never left home, so why not take an adventure to see if you could do it? The best part of all of this was that you always had the decision to move back, or move somewhere else completely.

It was beginning to feel like home, though. It was the perfect amount of space you needed and the environment was a perfect mix of introverted activities and extroverted. You had the freedom to become a hermit, but also had the option to go out if you so please. You lived in a part of the city where you could walk to work, dine and drink down the street. You also lived in an area close to bars if you ever felt the need to socialize.

It was beginning to feel like home after 2 months. Your job was easy to follow, despite you not being an expert in Korean. The people were nice, though they were curious and stared. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your demeanor, but you were becoming accustomed quickly, better than you thought you would.

You should be going out tonight, but you don’t feel ready yet. You should be getting dolled up to enjoy a night of fun, but… this was fun for now. Cuddled up in your cozy apartment after a long week at work.

The tv muffled in the background as you stared out your window, appreciating the skyline.

Your phone buzzes against your tight, drawing you from your thoughts.

Mystic_Legend wants to send you a message

Your brow furrows at the notification, but you’re anxious to see the message. You had little to no lies from your home country, and no one knew you here in Korea. Must be a bot.

Mystic_Legend (9:56 pm) : 나는 당신의 사진을 좋아합니다

You blink, staring at the message in curiosity. Pulling up google on your phone you translate the sentence.

I like your photo

“Weird,” you mumble.

Another instagram notification pops up on your screen and you tap it.

Mystic_Legend (9:57 pm) : 최근에 한국에 도착 했나요? 당신은 그것을 좋아합니까?

Have you arrived in Korea recently? Do you like it?

Uneasiness bubbles within your gut. Wasn’t your profile private? You tap around your screen to double check - and it wasn’t. Curiosity got the best of you and you tap the users profile.

20 posts, 13 following and… zero followers.

An anomaly.

Scrolling through the users posts, you find random things. A pair of new shoes, a video of a hooded figure with his back turned to the camera playing on a soundboard, a picture of the person’s outfit, hat covered with a beanie and phone conveniently covering his face in the mirror. Filtering through more posts, you find the Seoul skyline at night, a deck of cards littering a coffee table, gym equipment and landscape photos.

“What the,” you sigh under your breath before another notification pops over the top of your screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I’m sorry. I should have written in English.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I like your photos. Did you recently move to Korea?

Your fingers hesitate before swiping across the screen to accept the messages.

You (10:02 pm) : Do I know you?

A typing bubble appears before disappearing for a few moments.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 pm) : No, I found you on explore page

Ahh, it clicked. But you won’t tell a stranger sensitive information, the whole situation is weird in the first place. You were hesitant to even respond, leaving the message on read while you stared at the screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:04 pm) : I’m Su-bong. Not a creep, I promise.

You (10:04 pm) : Nice to meet you. Thank you for liking my pictures.

Keeping it short and sweet, you lock your phone, hoping to leave the conversation at that, but your phone vibrates not once, but twice.

Mystic_Legend has followed you

Mystic_Legend (10:06 pm) : I could help you speak Korean, if you don’t know

You contemplate the message, looking at it on your Home Screen. You could use the help with your job and navigating the city. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You could have a native speaker help and just keep it at that. Just for the knowledge, of course. Keep it surface level.

You (10:07 pm) : That helps me, actually.

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Cool. 😎

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Maybe we could call?

You (10:08 pm) : Not tonight, it’s pretty late.

Mystic_Legend (10:09 pm) : That is okay, get your rest. We can speak tomorrow?

You (10:10 pm) : Sure.

Seen 10:10pm

You left it at that, and the stranger does too. You get ready for bed shortly after that, confused as to how anyone would even find you on the explore page. You weren’t a big account at all and hardly interacted with content on the app, so what had led to the discovery of your profile?

You did have similar interests, but that couldn’t be the only reason for him to message you.

Before closing your eyes, you tap the instagram application and go to the strangers profile and press follow.

-

It caused Su-bong physical pain to let you go to bed. He wanted to message you more, all night if he could. But you had agreed to a call tomorrow, and he was reeling with adrenaline.

Scanning over your photos in his darkened room overlooking the city lights, he couldn’t keep his gaze off the picture of you in the park. Turning over to lay on his side, a strangeness swells within his chest. It must have been stupid, only a virgin could react so strongly just by pictures and dry messages.

But something had told him this was everything he had been missing. Not ever had he looked at a girl with such a sweetness. He’d hooked up with models, influencers and everything in between, although not remembering most of the nights. He’d share hot kisses with wet tongues in night clubs, inviting high class women to his place to experiment something new, had intense sex fueled by molly, and even bent women over in grimy bathrooms.

This was not new to him, picking up women and getting what he wanted.

But the purity was.

Something swam in your eyes, mesmerizing him in a daze. Something fueled him to keep pushing, to dig deeper as to where this stems from.

You are beautiful, elegant and ethereal actually.

He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t try.

The buzz of a notification almost sends his heart leaping out of his chest to find that you had followed him back.

-

You didn’t hear from the stranger, or Su-bong overnight. To your conflicting disappointment, he wasn’t in the pile of notifications when you woke.

Something pulled you in. Men now-a-days have a large following, or a large number of who they follow. You didn’t mull this over to its extent last night, but when you checked his following, it was all art, photography and music accounts… all 13 of them. He didn’t have a profile picture, but the same silhouette showed continuously through his posts.

He didn’t have any followers, and this led you to think this was a secret account. Maybe he had a girlfriend to hide… but honestly that wouldn’t make sense, because if he were to hide an account, wouldn’t he be following girls? At least one? But the only one was you.

And you were now his only follower.

It seemed like a simple account, purely made for enjoyment. Social media is used for that sort of thing anyways, right? You shake your head, reminding yourself that not every man is out to get you. Not every stranger is here to hurt you.

It’s not that big of a deal, and you shouldn’t even be bothering yourself with it.

So you opt to forget about it and carry on with your day.

Saturday - a day to catch up after the work week and do whatever you want to do. So, you do. You work out, shower and make your way to the little cafe down the street to catch a light breakfast and coffee.

Sitting down at an empty table near the window to people watch, your phone buzzes over the table.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 am) : Good morning

Bzzzzt

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You practically leap from your seat to snatch your phone, a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. You pray to god that this doesn’t go south, please for the love of god do not be an unsolicited dick pic.

Preparing yourself with a breath, you go to his message embarrassingly fast and tap on the photo.

You squint before opening, as if to allow yourself to be a victim of a terrible sight, but to your delight, the picture opened to a pair of pristine white sneakers next to some weights.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 am) : I am hitting the gym this morning. I hope you slept well.

You (10:04 am) : I beat you to it, I already worked out today. I am getting breakfast.

Sending a picture back can’t do any harm, right? Angling your phone over your food and coffee, you snap a picture and send it.

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : Looks good

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : What are your plans today?

Mystic_Legend (10:07 am) : I am excited to call, let me know when you are ready.

You purse your lips, blushing at the thought of having a phone call with a stranger. This was unhinged right? No one in their right mind would be doing this… right? Why did your heart flutter with every message he sent?

It’s literally a blank profile.

You tap on his account and scroll down to the photo of him in a mirror. The purple beanie covers his hair and the phone covers most of his face. The hoodie he wears is black with neon coloring and you can’t see past his waist. The one eye you do see, gives a glimpse, a sliver, that who you are talking to is a real person.

You (10:10 am) : I have to run errands today, but I will text you when I am home

The chat bubble lifts above the keyboard, then disappears. You await his response in silence.

Mystic_Legend (10:11 am) : I will wait for you.

An… odd message, you blink. Maybe even sweet… but you don’t know the customs and courtesies of Korean culture enough to have a real judgement. All you need to worry about is finishing your errands and chores before a phone call with a stranger.

-

Flicking the light to your apartment on and dumping your grocery bags on the counter, you stretch.

A day out was just what you needed, and the weather was perfect to walk around in, but damn do your feet ache. Slipping off your shoes by the door, you begin doing your final task of the day.

You barely put the egg carton in your fridge before you hear your phone buzz from the counter. Padding your feet over to your phone, sits another photo message from mystic_legend.

Tilting your head, you open the photo.

An outstretched hand gingerly caresses a wine glass halfway filled with a deep red in front of a kitchen counter.

Mystic_Legend (8:00 pm) : I hope you had a good day.

You (8:00 pm) : Sorry it is so late, I met up with a coworker for dinner.

You cringe at your apology, it’s not like he deserved one. But it was true. Your coworker saw you shopping at a local store and asked if you’d be down to have drinks and food. You couldn’t say no, especially since you have no friends. And this coworker is also a foreigner, so it works out in terms of no language barriers. But you did have plans to call with him, so maybe you felt the need to mention that?

You (8:01 pm) : Is that red wine?

Mystic_Legend (8:01 pm) : Yes. I like this one.

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You open the photo to see an exquisite bottle of red with the label in French.

You (8:03 pm) : Looks expensive, are you rich?

Mystic_Legend (8:04 pm) : It was a gift.

You (8:05 pm) : I will call soon, I need to finish cleaning up and shower

Mystic_Legend hearted your message but said nothing else.

You freshen up after a long day, letting the hot water cascade down your back. Rubbing your shoulders to ease the tension, your mind wanders.

Was this a trick? Was he a creep? How could you be so naive in trusting a complete stranger? It was weird, what you were doing.

But in reality, you are lonely. Making this move was huge for you and your confidence. You’ve never ventured out like this before. You are a big girl, you don’t need to explain your reasons for making friends. You are completely on your own, working in a completely new country, and doing good at it.

You’re not tied down by anything but yourself, so why was it hard to accept the fact that this was a little unconventional?

You’ve tried dating apps in the past- you physically cringe forcing yourself to stop your thought process. Shrugging your shoulders against the water in a visceral reaction, you shake off the thought. This guy is not an interest, why were you thinking it was? Instagram is not an app to date.

Even so, he had never asked anything other than to talk to you. You’ve had guys in the past ask for nudes almost immediately. You’ve had guys thirsting over you in such an icky way that it completely turned you off.

But…

You lean your head back into the waterfall and puff your cheeks.

He hasn’t done that.

You couldn’t help by think of all the reason why. Why he had messaged. Was it a cover? He could be a complete fuck-boy underneath it all and he’s just grabbing your attention.

What if he isn’t even real. What if he’s some mama’s boy living in a dingy basement?

You groan, anticipation swelling deep in your belly. You feel like you might be sick at the thought of a measly voice call.

You can’t help that it excites you.

-

Silk pajamas caress your skin and the plush comforter of your bed warms your senses as you whip out your phone and settle yourself in a comfortable position.

Your finger lingers over the phone symbol next to the strangers name… and you can’t do it.

You (11:01 pm) : I’m ready

WIthin seconds, like he really was awaiting your message, your phone screen illuminates with a voice call.

Your body tenses at the mere sight and you suck in a breath, hitting accept.

“Hello?”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he calls, his voice low and smooth like honey. You melt at the slow infliction of his tone.

“Oh- annyeong-“ You stutter, but he doesn’t react. “How are you?” You try to hold it together to keep your voice from shaking, praying that he doesn’t notice. Your poor Korean could be embarrassing to him.

“That was good,” he comments before proceeding, “I am good now. I told you I would wait for you.”

The more he spoke, the more you caught on to his thick accent. It wasn’t perfect. But you didn’t care, you understood him just fine.

You give an airy laugh, “you did.”

”What did you do today?”

You hum. “I worked out, went to lunch… I went shopping and met up with a coworker of mine for dinner. It was nice. What did you do today?”

He hums in response.

“One second-“ he says, followed by quick tapping on his screen. After a moment, he begins to speak again.

“I worked out too. I had chest day. Then I made music.”

“Music?”

“Yes,” he pauses, “I like to make music.”

”Is that why you post pictures of you in a studio?”

“Yes,” the tapping on his phone is rapid now, “I have my own studio in my house.”

”That’s so cool! I’d like to hear your music…”

The stranger was silent on the other line.

”Maybe.”

“Okay, well no pressure. I don’t like to show anyone my personal stuff either.” You opt to keep the conversation light.

He hums in agreement.

“Why did you come to Korea?”

You shift under your covers, thinking of a response.

“I… just needed a new start. I wanted to see what I could accomplish.” Is what you ended up with.

He hums again, slow and low, taking a moment to respond.

“I understand. I have lived here my entire life. I always wanted to travel, that is good that you did.”

You laugh, “it was scary at first, moving to a new country and all…”

”I could tell you all the best spots around here.”

”I’d like that, I’m still getting used to it.” You turn your head to look at the moon outside your window.

”Do you remember my name?” He questions.

”Su-Bong.” You respond quietly.

”Yes, I’d like to know yours.”

You swallow, internally battling yourself with how to respond. You don’t want to give him your real name in the means of safety. But he did give you his.

“Is that actually your name?”

“Of course, why would I lie?” His accent was thick and questioning, low in bass. It rang so nicely through your ears. His infliction doesn’t waver, and it draws you in.

You slowly said your own name, giving him the benefit of the doubt. It was just a name after all, and he had already known what you looked like.

He repeated your name quietly, like he savored it on his tongue. His deep voice electrified your nerves in a way you’ve never experienced, triggering your body to grow hot in embarrassment.

“Beautiful name,” was all he said.

You sheepishly give thanks before yawning.

“Are you tired?”

Your eyelids grow heavy to the sound of his voice. “I am.”

”I will let you go to sleep, can we talk tomorrow?”

You wait a moment to respond as your heart flutters in response to him.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

”Okay,” he whispers, “an nyeong hi ju mu se yo.”

”Goodnight, Su-Bong.”

-

Thanos hung up the phone almost too quickly, but not because he wanted to leave the conversation, but because he needed to let out a breath he had been holding.

Your voice was sweet and calming. It had lulled his system like waves of the ocean.

Running his fingers through his hair his eyes dart around the room and curses under his breath.

You’d definitely be the death of him.

[moonselune]

I love the concept that plays with how blank a slate Tav is and what that could mean. Like think of a high charisma (bard) Tav who goes through the entire plot carefully conceiling their own struggles and traumas so to not loose focus on helping everyone else first.

A Tav who, till the late game, carefully side stepped ever sharing a shred of their sad life with the group so not to risk loosing respect as leader. Until their romanced companion’s own quest is finished and the companion suddenly realized they don’t know A Thing about the love of their life.

Que intervention as they insist Tav lean on them as well.

Oooooo this is such a cool concept!!! I wrote little snippets of it with the ladies because I just needed to see it in action ahaha, and also i wasn't sure if this was a request or a sharing thoughts situation, but either way thank you!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach’s laughter usually lit up the camp like a second sun, warm and untamed. But tonight, as she sat next to you, her smile was hesitant, her brow furrowed in thought. The fire crackled between you, casting flickering light over her troubled face. Her quest was over—the engine in her chest hummed quietly, no longer a constant threat, and for the first time in years, she could dream of a future.

With you.

And yet, now that the battlefields were behind you and her own burdens were lifted, Karlach realized something startling: she didn’t know you.

She knew your jokes, your way of rallying the group when morale dipped, your quick wit and even quicker blade. But you’d always deflected questions about yourself, about your past, in such a charming way that no one ever pressed.

Until now.

“You’re quiet tonight, soldier,” Karlach said softly, nudging your shoulder with hers. Her voice was light, teasing, but her gaze held a deeper intensity.

“I thought you’d enjoy a bit of peace,” you replied, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

She tilted her head, studying you. “Peace? Sure. But not silence. C’mon, you’ve got me curious.”

“Curious?”

Karlach nodded, leaning back on her hands. The firelight danced in her eyes. “Yeah. We’ve been through hell together, fought gods and monsters, and you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger. But I just realized... I don’t know anything about you. Who you were. Where you’re from. What keeps you up at night.”

You laughed nervously, brushing off her words with a joke. “What keeps me up? You, snoring like a troll after a good meal.”

But Karlach wasn’t laughing. Her hand reached out, warm and steady, to rest on your arm. “I’m serious. Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

For a moment, the mask slipped. Your smile faltered, your shoulders tensed, and you looked away. “Because it’s not important.”

Karlach’s grip tightened, grounding you. “Bullshit.”

The word hit harder than any blade. You glanced back at her, meeting her gaze, and saw nothing but unwavering determination.

“You’ve carried all of us, soldier,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been there for me, for everyone, without ever asking for anything in return. But you don’t have to carry it all alone. Not anymore.”

The weight of her words was unbearable. You opened your mouth to deflect again, to joke, to lie—but Karlach was relentless.

“Talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “Let me be there for you, the way you’ve been there for me. Please.”

And so, with her hand warm against your arm and her eyes locked on yours, the dam broke. You told her everything: the choices you’d made, the people you’d lost, the sacrifices that had carved deep scars into your soul. You spoke until your throat was raw, until tears blurred your vision, until the weight you’d carried for so long began to lift.

When you finished, Karlach pulled you into her arms, her infernal heart humming quietly between you.

“You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice fierce with conviction. “Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the gathering. It was one of those rare quiet nights when the group could let their guard down after a day of relentless fighting and tension. You sat slightly apart from the others, leaning on a log with your lute resting against your lap, fingers idly plucking a soft tune. The others laughed and chatted, the mood light for once, a reflection of a recent victory in defeating Orin.

Minthara was a commanding presence at the center of the gathering, her voice cool and measured as she recounted a story of conquest from her youth in the Underdark. You watched her with quiet admiration, a small smile on your face. Her victory had brought her a visible sense of satisfaction, and you were glad to have helped her achieve it. But as the group began to disperse for the night, she approached you, her sharp golden eyes intent.

“You’ve been unusually quiet tonight,” she said, sitting beside you on the log. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was a probing edge to it.

You shrugged, still plucking at the lute strings. “Just enjoying the peace. It’s not often we get nights like this.”

Minthara frowned slightly. “You say that as though peace is a luxury you cannot afford.”

You hesitated, the music faltering for a moment before you resumed playing. “We all have things we’re dealing with,” you said lightly, deflecting as you always did.

She narrowed her eyes at you, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “Do we now? I suppose it’s convenient that you always seem to deal with them in private. A leader who asks for nothing of their allies, who gives so much and reveals so little.”

You chuckled softly, trying to play it off. “I’m just a bard. Stories and songs, that’s all I have to offer. It’s better if I focus on everyone else’s happiness. That’s how we keep moving forward, right?”

Her hand shot out, catching your wrist and stilling the lute’s strings. The sudden silence was startling.

“Enough,” she said, her voice low but commanding. “Do not insult me by pretending you have no burdens of your own. I have watched you—carefully, closely—and I see the cracks beneath your mask.”

You stared at her, your heart pounding. Minthara had always been astute, but you hadn’t expected her to press the issue like this.

“I… it’s not important,” you murmured, avoiding her gaze. “Not compared to what everyone else has been through.”

Her fingers tightened around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make her point. “Do you think so little of me that you believe I cannot handle your truth? Or do you think so little of yourself that you cannot share it?”

Her words hit harder than you cared to admit. For so long, you had poured your energy into being the strong, charismatic leader your companions needed, smoothing over conflicts, supporting their struggles, and offering unwavering encouragement. But you’d never let them see the darker parts of yourself.

Minthara’s gaze softened, her hand loosening on your wrist but not letting go. “You have been my rock through my darkest moments, my most trying battles. Yet I realize now I know nothing of what lies beneath the surface of the one I call my heart. Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not that,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I trust you more than anyone. But I—” You paused, struggling to find the words. “If I start talking about it, it’ll feel real. And I’ve worked so hard to keep it buried. To keep it from interfering with everything we’re trying to do.”

Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then she moved closer, her presence warm and grounding.

“You are not alone anymore. Whatever demons haunt you, they will not diminish you in my eyes. If anything, they make you stronger for having faced them.” She paused, her voice softening. “But strength is not refusing to lean on others. Strength is allowing those who care for you to share the weight.”

Her words broke something open inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. Slowly, you set the lute aside and took a deep breath. For the first time, you began to speak—not with a practiced deflection or a half-truth, but honestly. You told her about the losses that had shaped you, the scars you carried, and the fear that if you let others see your pain, they would lose faith in you as a leader.

Minthara listened intently, her hand never leaving yours. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to offer platitudes or solutions. When you finished, she reached up to touch your cheek, her fingers brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“You are more than I ever imagined,” she said softly, her voice full of conviction. “And I am honored to carry your pain with you.”

Her words were a balm, and as you leaned into her touch, you felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time in a long while, you weren’t carrying the weight alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae’zel was never one for subtlety. It wasn’t her way, and it wasn’t what drew her to you. What drew her to you was your strength, your decisiveness, your ability to unite a group of misfits and drive them toward a common goal. In you, she saw a leader worth following—and eventually, someone worth loving.

But as you sat by the campfire one evening, spinning a tale that had the others laughing and cheering, Lae’zel watched you with narrowed eyes. She noticed the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your voice faltered when someone asked about your own past, and how deftly you redirected the conversation back to them. You had thought she would have been too wrapped up in her own victory that day, that she was finally free of Vlaakith's lies, a new champion found in Prince Orpheus. But you were wrong.

It wasn’t until the camp was quiet, with only the two of you lingering by the dying embers, that she decided to confront you.

“You wear your mask well,” she said bluntly, sitting across from you.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Mask? I wasn’t wearing one during the performance.”

Lae’zel huffed, her sharp yellow eyes locking onto yours. “You know what I mean. You speak of others’ pain as though it were your own. You rally us with words that stir the soul. But when it comes to you...” She leaned forward, her voice low and accusing. “I know nothing of the one I call ‘commander'. The one I love.”

You hesitated, your usual arsenal of witty retorts suddenly failing you. “Lae’zel, I—”

“Do not lie to me,” she cut you off, her voice firm but not unkind. “I see it in your eyes, in the way you deflect. You think yourself clever, but I know what it is to hide weakness.”

Her words struck a chord, and for a moment, you considered brushing her off. But the intensity in her gaze—equal parts frustration and concern—kept you rooted in place.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice quieter than usual. “What I’ve been through... it’s not important. The group—you—come first. Always.”

Lae’zel’s expression softened, though her resolve didn’t waver. She stood and moved to sit beside you, her hand reaching out to grasp yours. “Do not belittle me by suggesting that your struggles are insignificant. You are not some faceless pawn on a battlefield. You are my partner. My heart beats for you.”

Her words undid you. The walls you’d so carefully constructed began to crumble as she continued, her voice gentler now.

“You have carried the burdens of us all. It is time you shared your own.”

The floodgates opened. Slowly at first, then all at once, you began to speak—of the losses you’d endured, the sacrifices you’d made, and the fear that admitting any of it would shatter the respect the group had for you. Lae’zel listened without interruption, her grip on your hand unwavering. When you were done, she pulled you into her arms, her strength a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

“You are stronger than you know,” she said softly, her voice near your ear. “And you are not alone. Not anymore.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to believe her. To trust someone else. To share the pain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart was patient, but only to a point. She’d fallen for you—not the bard’s mask you wore so expertly, but the glimpses of vulnerability you let slip when you thought no one was watching. Yet those moments were fleeting, and every time she tried to delve deeper, you sidestepped her with the same charming ease you used on everyone else.

It wasn’t until her personal quest had come to a bittersweet end—when she finally felt free from the shackles of Shar’s influence—that she realized the gaping hole in her knowledge of you.

You sat by the edge of the camp, tuning your lute under the pale light of the moon. Shadowheart approached quietly, her steps soft on the grass. She didn’t speak until she was sitting beside you, her gaze fixed on the instrument in your hands.

“You’re always playing for others,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Have you ever written a song for yourself?”

You chuckled, though there was a hint of unease in the sound. “I prefer to leave the self-indulgent ballads to others.”

Shadowheart turned to you, her expression serious. “Why?”

You hesitated, your fingers stilling on the strings. “Because it’s not about me. It’s about... helping. Inspiring. That’s what matters.”

Shadowheart sighed, her frustration evident. “You’re deflecting again.”

Your shoulders tensed, and you looked away, your usual charm faltering under her unwavering gaze.

“I’m fine, Shadowheart,” you said, though the words rang hollow even to your ears. “Really. There’s nothing to—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. “I’ve spent my life serving a goddess who demanded I suppress everything I was. I know what it looks like when someone is hiding their pain. And I know how much it hurts to carry it alone.”

Her words struck a nerve, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It’s easier this way,” you admitted quietly. “If I focus on everyone else, if I don’t talk about it... then it’s like it doesn’t exist. Like it doesn’t matter.”

Shadowheart reached out, her hand gently brushing against yours. “But it does matter. You matter.”

You glanced at her, the sincerity in her eyes threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls you’d built around yourself.

“What if... What if I tell you, and you see me differently?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Shadowheart’s expression softened, and she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “I already see you, even if you don’t realize it. You’ve given so much of yourself to this group—to me. Let me give something back.”

Her words were the final push you needed. Slowly, haltingly, you began to speak—about the traumas you’d buried, the fear of letting anyone see the cracks in your facade, and the constant pressure to be everything to everyone.

Shadowheart listened intently, her hand never leaving yours. When you finished, she shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you in a tender embrace.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” she murmured. “Not anymore. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, you allowed yourself to lean into her comfort, the weight of your secrets finally beginning to lift.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The campfire burned low, crackling faintly in the still night air. You sat alone at the edge of camp, your lute balanced across your lap, fingers idly plucking a soft melody. It was your usual way of winding down after a long day, the gentle music serving as a balm not just for yourself but for your companions. Tonight, though, your mind was elsewhere, the notes faltering now and then as memories you worked so hard to suppress bubbled unbidden to the surface.

Across camp, Jaheira watched you with a quiet intensity. She had spent decades in the company of adventurers, soldiers, and leaders, and she recognized the signs of a burden carried in silence. Even if the freshly recruited Minsc was determined to fill that silence with his usual babbles. You, the charismatic bard, the glue that held this strange, volatile group together, had always been an enigma. You soothed tensions, inspired courage, and tended to the wounds of body and soul without ever revealing anything of yourself.

It hadn’t bothered her before—not in the heat of the crisis, when every moment was a battle for survival. But now, Jaheira found herself uneasy. The realization struck her that despite all her time at your side, she knew little of the person she had grown to love. And it gnawed at her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

She rose from her seat, approaching you with her usual confidence, though her expression softened as she drew nearer.

“You’ll wear your strings thin at this rate,” she teased gently, nodding toward your lute.

You glanced up, offering her your practiced, easy smile. “Ah, but music soothes even the most restless soul. Should I not share it?”

Jaheira’s lips quirked upward in a small smile, but her gaze was piercing. “Perhaps. But who soothes you, bard?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, your fingers stilling on the strings.

“I—” You laughed lightly, deflecting. “I’m fine, Jaheira. Don’t worry about me.”

She crossed her arms, her emerald eyes narrowing. “You’ve said that every time someone’s asked. And yet, I can’t help but notice that ‘fine’ is all you ever claim to be. Do you expect me to believe that a life as tangled as yours comes without scars?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she cut you off, sitting down beside you and placing a firm hand on your arm. “Enough. You’ve carried the weight of everyone else’s troubles, including mine. You’ve fought for us, bled for us, and offered comfort whenever we’ve needed it. But not once—not once—have you shared even a fragment of your own story. Why is that?”

The weight of her words settled over you like a shroud, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I… I didn’t want to distract anyone,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than usual. “There was so much to do, so much at stake. If I started talking about my own problems, it would have… I don’t know, shifted things. Made me seem weaker. Less of a leader.”

Jaheira’s hand tightened on your arm. “Weakness? Do you think I’d see you as weak because you’re human? Because you have wounds that haven’t healed?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s not that simple. I had to keep everyone together. If I faltered—if I let anyone see how badly I was struggling—what would’ve happened to us? To you?”

She sighed, her thumb brushing absently over your sleeve. “You’ve spent so much time tending to others, you’ve forgotten how to let someone tend to you. But that’s not leadership; that’s martyrdom.”

Her words cut deep, striking at a truth you’d been avoiding for so long. Slowly, you looked up at her, and the concern in her gaze nearly undid you. “Jaheira… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start here,” she said simply, placing her other hand over yours. “Start with me. You’ve given so much of yourself to everyone else; now let someone give something back.”

And so you did. Haltingly at first, the words spilling out in a jumbled, unpracticed mess. You told her of the choices you regretted, the people you’d lost, the nights spent lying awake under the stars wondering if you’d ever be enough. She listened without interruption, her hand never leaving yours, her presence steady and grounding.

By the time you finished, your throat was tight and your shoulders felt lighter than they had in years. Jaheira leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from your face, her expression filled with an affection that made your heart ache.

“There,” she said softly. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laughed shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?”

She smiled, the warmth in her eyes chasing away the last shadows of doubt. “It takes one to know one.”

As she pulled you into a gentle embrace, you realized she was right. For the first time, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to let go of the mask you’d worn for so long.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[zeena-the-fandom-fiend]

April showers bring May flowers

Character x you snippet

You wake up not to your alarm but to soft rays of light through your bedroom window. With a groan, you shift in bed toward where your phone rest. Well, Should rest. Instead you find a note where your phone normal is.

"I called into work for you :)"

With a huff and smile, you got up to start your day. Walking to the bathroom to brush your teeth and begin your normal routine, you find more notes stuck along your path. On walls, on your toothbrush, toothpaste, the mirror, even the toilet paper.

Simple compliments.

"You look wonderful." "hey sunshine." "wow you are divine" "Did you sleep well?"

Moving to the living room, the notes follow you through the hallway. "Wow. Am i lucky to have you" "Did you fall from heaven?" "I must have done something amazing in my past life to have met you."

By the time you entered the living room you became concerned on how many sticky notes were dotted around your home. Moving past the couch that seemed to have a mysteriously new fluffy blanket thrown across it, you see the dining room table with filled with goodies. At the center sits, a beautiful bouquet in a vase. Next to the vase, a box of your favorite candy.

Giving the flowers a longer look, you notice a small note attached.

"Breakfast is in the microwave. Its your favorite. See you after work, my love"

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

5-1-2025

I wrote this with ace, nightwing, and wally west in mind to be honest.

[bambieyedoll]

GLUE SONG .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

summary: in a quiet world of cold tea, stolen kisses, and unsaid things, love blooms between you two, stitched together by music and something even stronger.

pairing: bella ramsey x fem!reader

word count: 1,4k

warnings/notes: short writing, pure fluff, singer!reader, just a cute intimate moment, short but sweet.

masterlist | check out my other work !

it started with humming.

not even full-out singing. not yet. just little snippets—half-thought melodies tumbling out of you the way laughter sometimes does, sudden and unfiltered. you didn’t even realize you were doing it most of the time. it would slip out while you were folding laundry, brushing your teeth, or now, moving around the small kitchen of the flat you shared with bella in london.

barefoot, your sweater hanging nearly to your knees, one sock loose and slouching halfway down your ankle. the winter light spilling in through the curtains painted you in soft golds and dusty blues, and there you were—humming, completely unguarded, stirring honey into two mugs of tea.

your voice—soft and unbothered—carried the beginning of something delicate. bella leaned silently against the doorway, hidden by the corner for a moment before they stepped closer, still unnoticed. their hair stuck up in a dozen directions, messy from sleep, and they wore only grey sweats and your hoodie, the sleeves covering their hands. they looked at you the way someone might look at a lit window on a dark street—something alive and warm, something they didn’t want to disturb.

their chest ached in that familiar, stubborn way it always did when they watched you like this. as if loving you lived somewhere just beneath their ribs, a quiet, persistent thing that only grew heavier with time. but it wasn’t a bad weight. it was the kind of heaviness you lean into, like blankets on a cold night or the arms of someone who’s always glad you’re there.

the kettle clicked off with a sharp little pop, startling you. you turned around—and blinked when you spotted bella standing there, half-hidden in the doorway, mug still empty in their hand.

you laughed, a soft, sheepish sound, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “jesus, you scared me.”

bella just blinked at you, head tilted slightly, their gaze unreadable in that way that always made your stomach flutter.

“what?” you asked again, voice warmer this time, almost teasing.

they pushed off the doorframe slowly, walking closer, socked feet scuffing against the kitchen tile. “you’ve been humming that all week,” they said, voice still rough with sleep.

you tilted your head, confused. “have i?

“mhm.” they accepted the mug you handed them with both hands, cradling it like something precious. their fingers brushed yours in the exchange, lingering a little longer than necessary.

they took a sip, eyes still on you. “sounds pretty. familiar.”

you shrugged, pretending to be busy with the spoons, the honey jar, anything to avoid the full weight of their gaze. “it’s mine.”

bella paused mid-sip. lowered the mug a little. “wait, seriously? you wrote that?”

you nodded, your cheeks heating. “yeah. just… something i’ve been messing around with. haven’t shown anyone yet.” you gave a little smile, that soft kind of shy that made bella’s knees a bit wobbly.

the mug made a soft clink when bella set it down on the counter. their gaze softened even more—if that was possible—and they stepped forward without thinking, their fingers finding the hem of your oversized sweater, tugging it gently like a child asking for attention.

“it’s beautiful,” they said, and their voice was low, certain. no hesitation, no casualness to hide behind.

you shrugged again, fighting a losing battle against the smile pulling at your lips. “thanks.”

but bella could see it—the way your eyes crinkled at the edges, the way your shoulders dropped, loosening a tension you hadn’t even realized you were carrying. they wanted to say more. they wanted to tell you that your voice sounded like the first breath of spring after a long, gray winter. that your melodies stitched something whole inside them that they didn’t even know was broken. that every small sound you made—the hums, the sighs, the off-key little moments—felt like home.

but instead, they simply reached out and hooked their pinky around yours.

no big declarations. no dramatics.

just that small, steady promise between two people who already knew what was being said without words.

it wasn’t until later—when the tea had long gone cold, and you were both sprawled across the couch in the living room, tangled up in each other—that the song came up again.

bella was lying on their stomach, head pillowed on your lap, scrolling aimlessly through something on their phone. you were absentmindedly running your fingers through their hair, humming again without realizing it—the same gentle tune.

they set their phone down, screen forgotten, and looked up at you with that familiar look again. the please sing for me look.

you hesitated, fingers freezing mid-stroke.

they noticed. sat up a little, shifting so they could see your face better. “you don’t have to,” they said quickly, because they knew how fragile new songs could feel. like paper cranes—beautiful, but easily crushed.

you bit your lip, considering. your heart pounded against your ribs, but something about the soft yellow lamplight, the rain pattering against the window, bella sitting there waiting so patiently—made you brave.

“i’ll show you,” you said quietly. “if you promise not to laugh.”

bella’s whole face lit up, wide and adoring and already impossibly soft. “i would never laugh,” they said, pinky swear already extended.

you linked yours with theirs, smiling shyly.

then, slowly, you shifted to grab your guitar, which had been leaning against the wall nearby. you settled it against your legs, the familiar weight grounding you, steadying your hands.

bella pulled a blanket around their shoulders, curling up like they were preparing to witness something sacred. (and honestly, they were.)

you plucked the first few notes—your fingers trembling just a little—but once you opened your mouth, the nerves melted away.

“i’ve never known someone like you,

tangled in love, stuck by you

from the glue…”

your voice was soft, not loud enough to fill a stadium, but strong enough to fill this small room, this small life you were building together. bella’s whole face softened, their eyes shining.

“don’t forget to kiss me

or else you’ll have to miss me…”

you watched the way they clutched the blanket closer to their chest, the way their mouth parted slightly on a breath they forgot to take.

“i guess i’m stuck forever

by the glue

oh, and you.”

you finished the song in a whisper and for a long, weightless moment, neither of you moved.

the last note of your song seemed to hang between you, stitched into the quiet like a secret only the two of you knew. bella just stared—like they were memorizing you, like they were seeing something they never wanted to forget.

and then they were moving, crossing the small space between you in a heartbeat, their arms sliding around your waist as they pressed their face into your chest. careful of the guitar still balanced in your lap, but otherwise reckless in the way they needed to be close—like they couldn’t stand another second of distance.

their voice was muffled against your sweater when they spoke. “you have no idea how amazing you are,” they whispered, and you could hear the tightness there, the emotion catching in the back of their throat.

you let out a soft, breathless laugh, heart full to the point of aching. carefully, you set the guitar aside, letting it rest against the couch, so you could pull bella closer—both arms wrapping fully around them, tucking them into you like something precious you never wanted to let go of.

“you’re hopelessly biased,” you teased, your words brushing the top of their head, but your voice wobbled with how much you meant it.

bella tipped their head up to grin at you, the corners of their eyes still shining with unshed tears. “biased,” they agreed with a sniff, nuzzling into your neck, “but right.”

you buried your face in their hair, breathing them in—the familiar smell of rain, your laundry soap, the hint of the tea you had abandoned hours ago. outside, the rain softened to a drizzle, the world beyond your windows dissolving into a blur of sleepy city lights.

neither of you made any move to get up.

there was nowhere better to be, no sound better than the soft rise and fall of your breathing pressed together like this. nothing in the world more important than the simple, quiet fact of here and you and us.

you weren’t just glued to each other.

you were woven into the same soft, invisible thing—stitched by love, by every small moment, every song, every heartbeat you had chosen to share.

and there was no undoing it.

not now. not ever.

not that either of you would dream of trying.

[felassan]

Some snippets (compilation) from the comments section of [this recent video] by Mark Darrah on YouTube titled ’How 2017 Changed BioWare 1000 Ways’.

rest of post under cut due to length.

Mark Darrah: "BioWare seems to be rebuilding now. I guess we'll have to keep watching"

Mark Darrah: "BioWare and EA seem to be fully behind the next Mass Effect"

User: "I hope the next Mass Effect brings the studio back on track, I doubt they will have many chances left if that game fails. Judging by the people that are involved, they are definitely trying." Mark Darrah: "Seems like"

Mark Darrah: "I don’t know what is next for DA"

Mark Darrah: "A super rushed Joplin likely would have been deeply flawed"

User: "I often learn more about what was going on at Bioware from this channel than I did in 10 years working at Bioware 🙃" Mark Darrah: "oof" Aaryn Flynn: "I learned some things too!" Mark Darrah: "@ blind men touching an elephant"

Bryan Johnson: "Very interesting to hear your perspective since I definitely was not a high level person. Crazy how much they kept the Casey return, as a few of us knew about it a bit earlier because we wrote something to scrape the employee staff data as we were getting tired of not hearing about people leaving the company." Mark Darrah: "wow"

User: "The shenanigans you just described, combined with David Gaider's recent posts about his own treatment at this company solves the mystery as to why DA has ended up in the state it's in. Thank you for clarifying." Mark Darrah: "I wouldn’t put it all on 2017"

User: "As someone who adores Dragon Age, it seems EA doesn't understand RPG fantasy games and doesn't understand what they have with Dragon Age and probably never will." Mark Darrah: "Likely"

User: "I can tell you as strictly a fan that I FELT the 'pivot' as you called it, in 2017. Andromeda felt half old BioWare and half something I didn't recognize as the same language. Anthem was a completely different dialect. SOMETHING was obviously changing at BioWare..." Mark Darrah: "That said, Anthem had been in development a WHILE by 2017"

User: "The level of organizational disfunction at such a big company is astounding." Mark Darrah: "Very common"

User: "I truly wish EA cared more for fsntasy, because it definitely seems like sci-fi and sports is what the higher-ups drool over." Mark Darrah: "We'll see what the future has to bring but..."

User: "And in all that time, Star Wars the Old Republic was keeping up Bioware's slack. Now they don't have that option anymore." Mark Darrah: "It was. Though I'm not sure EA saw it that way"

User: "The infuriating part of all this is that nobody even got what they wanted. Especially EA. The behaviour of these execs would at least be explicable if it had led to commercial success, but it didn't. Why are business execs so uniquely bad at doing business? It's their only job." Mark Darrah: "Successful Live services make so much that the risk was seen as worth it"

Mark Darrah: "Montreal didn't work on Anthem, they were moved to a different EA studio"

Mark Darrah: "Quarter based isn’t great planning for gamedev"

User: "It was a big surprise that BioWare didn't crumble immediately like so many before (Westwood, Origin, Bullfrog, Mythic). It's fascinating to learn that it was because BioWare was put under EA Sports management who were in no position to meddle with the development of RPGs." Mark Darrah: "The EA sports thing happened a bit later... I want to say 2013 or something."

User: "I am still hopeful, despite everything that's happened, that we'll still see more Dragon Age at some point" Mark Darrah: "You never know. EA owns a LOT of IPs"

Mark Darrah: "It’s the nature of most corporations to focus on costs longer term than revenue. Which is an issue for things that take many years to do"

Mark Darrah: "Every game that ships is a miracle"

User: "I am an optimistic. I hope that DA will be back and that EA and Bioware ups realise what a gem Dragon age truly is." Mark Darrah: "Hopefully"

Mark Darrah: "There was a story about Andromeda threading the needle between colonialism and a refugee story and telling neither story fully but that never got discussed"

Mark Darrah: "I do think MEA could have repaired its rep if given more post launch time"

User: "This is so sad. I really hope these videos bring some kinda change, whether it be with EA or teach other developers/publishers about what not to do." Mark Darrah: "..."

User: "Veigulard is like a product of this turbulent development process and continuos change of scope without respect to the development team." Mark Darrah: "Veilguard is a story for another day... hopefully"

Mark Darrah: "SWTOR was always a mystery to me too. It seemed like they had a pretty clear "If we sped 1$ we get more than 1$ back" repeatable model but it wasn't valued."

User: "I guess my only question is, did Casey Hudson ever actually fought for the Joplin vision/to keep DA Singleplayer at all? It seems odd to me that EA allowed DA to go back to Singleplayer in early 2021, shortly after Hudson left. I mean, Anthem was his idea and it flopped. The Jason Schreier articles stated devs were calling the live service Morrison "Anthem with dragons", so I wonder if Hudson was actually in support of turning DA into an MMO. Not trying to find someone to blame for everything, but I'll just forever wonder if things would've been different with someone else at the top." Mark Darrah: "I don’t think he was. Simply living in the same environment we all were"

User: "What was your relationship with the higher-ups and your team like for the remainder of your time at Bioware?" Mark Darrah: ""Doing a job" probably describes my last 2-3 years"

User: "I hope there is smooth sailing for ME5 and the story will knock our socks off." Mark Darrah: "I am following Mass Effect for sure"

Mark Darrah: "Origin [Systems] was actually under the BioWare umbrella at one point if you can believe it"

Mark Darrah: "Ray [one of the BioWare co-founders] spent a lot of his capital resisting EA until he left."

User: "If Joplin and the DA team had gotten the manpower from the Montreal team and resources they required do you think Joplin could have avoided EA’s push toward live service? (Sorry for the double comment, issue with my connection for a second there)" Mark Darrah: "... Its hard to say. Those 2 things are honestly pretty tightly coupled"

User: "Did you talk to Casey about the Anthem situation? It seems like he just pushed Anthem without discussing it internally which is so strange to do" Mark Darrah: "There were conversations. Casey can be very convincing"

User: "I think they damaged the relationship with their consumers as well" Mark Darrah: "In 2017? Definitely stopping the MEA dlc didn’t help"

User: "Have you considered writing an unauthorized history of Bioware, Mark?" Mark Darrah: "I’ve thought about a book. Not sure if there is one in there…"

User: "my trust in Nexteffect is very low just like it's for Bioware overall nowadays, but I won't judge before the game is out." Mark Darrah: "Keep following the game. Hopefully it will be great"

Mark Darrah: "EA doesn't sell IP"

User: "It's always so weird to hear the two teams at BW were kinda against each other" Mark Darrah: "Its weird how much the teams saw the differences as opposed to the similarities"

Mark Darrah: "I’m not sure that a large corporation can NOT assimilate an acquisition. Even if it tries"

User: "I have zero expectations for the next Mass Effect game" Mark Darrah: "There is still blood left in that stone"

Mark Darrah: "DA2’s budget is pretty small"

Mark Darrah: "We are starting to see a pivot back but basically the math is: 1. A successful live service makes WAY more than a successful SP game. 2. So much more that even if only 30% of our bets work we are still better off. BUT. 30% of their bets have NOT worked. Its way lower than that"

User: "The year BioWare started being finally digested by EA." Mark Darrah: "Finished I'd say"

User: "Do you feel like the "little to gain, little to lose" attitude from EA happened with The Veilguard as well?" Mark Darrah: "It isn't the same situation I don't think"

User: "How close were we to just getting any Dragon Age release, ever? Do you think the 10 year wait between releases damaged marketability?" Mark Darrah: "Do you mean how close was Joplin to happening? Not very close. It never even entered true pre-production" User: "regarding Anthem’s live service status… were people moved from Austin (The Old Republic) to help with that? Because it would greatly explain the content drought in the game at the time." Mark Darrah: "A ton of Austin people were on Anthem and Anthem Live. Not sure if they were pulled off of SWTOR though"

User: "I don't think EA understand video game development..." Mark Darrah: "They understand very specific kinds of development"

User: "if I were at BioWare, I would have had no trust in EA to keep their word after they agreed to let Dragon Age become single player again in 2021." Mark Darrah: "different people in different chairs but yeah"

Mark Darrah: "Yeah I don’t think anyone was malicious"

User: "do I understand correctly then that actual work on what eventually became The Veilguard started in 2019, after Anthem?" Mark Darrah: "There are very thin threads that trail all the way back to 2015 but most work happened after 2019. REALLY most happened after 2021 when it went back to SP."

User: "It seems like the Dragon Age team and Mass Effect teams have resentment towards each other, but I rarely hear from Hudson discussing this. It’s mostly the Dragon Age team." Mark Darrah: "I think we all have different stances for sure"

User: "I'm sure they don't appreciate you telling the full truth." Mark Darrah: "There’s much more to it then this"

Mark Darrah: "That Anthem pitch was so good it lasted 7 years of Casey being gone"

User: "Execs lying to you numerous times, then lying to the Dragon Age staff about the nature of their relocation, only to have them crunch on Anthem, is horrendous." Mark Darrah: "I don’t think they were lying to me at the time. It just became untrue"

[source]

[akindplace]

It’s okay to take that nap. To watch that movie while cozy in bed. To eat that treat, and a wholesome meal. You don’t have to earn it. You don’t have to rest to be able to push through later. You can just let go and relax for a bit, because you’re human and your body need it. 🌱🦋🌻

[loveforeren]

୨⎯ If we only had more time⎯୧

Pairing: Eren Yeager x Sick!Reader

Synopsis: You and Eren had been together since your sophomore year of high school. You guys were now in your sophomore year of college when you got devastating news. You were sick, and not just any type of illness. You didn't have long to live. They told you that they don't know what the illness is or how to treat it. So all you can do is wait for the day you die. There's only one problem you have approximately 2 months lefts and you've been avoiding Eren due to it. You haven't told him, and you were being put in the hospital..very soon.

Content Warning: Sick Reader, Angst, Small Argument, Unknown Illness, Sad Ending.

A/N: I wrote this because I was bored...I don't write angst often loves. I'll be posting a either longish Kokushibo fanfic or another Miguel snippet soon. Also, yall should listen to Promise By Laufey.

You look out the window to see Eren's car pull up in front of your small townhouse. Your body shakes at the thought of telling him. You watch as he walks to the door and knocks. You take a deep breath before slowly creaking open the door.

It's been months since you got the devastating news. The news you weren't going to live much longer. They don't know what the illness is or how to cure it. The only thing they know is it's causing your body to break down and destroy itself at a rapid pace. They're trying every medication they can think of and nothing works. When you told your parents they broke down in tears begging the doctors to help their child. When you told your friends they cried for hours and promised to make the most of the time you had left. There was one person you didn't tell, Eren, your boyfriend. You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't bare to tell him, but you couldn't put it off any longer. You were being put into the hospital sometime this week or next and you couldn't put off telling him any longer. You knew he was worried because, for the past few weeks, you haven't been around him as often. You couldn't the pain your body was in was too much to bare. You had to tell him today. You had no choice.

"Hey Ma." He said with a grin.

His arms wrapped around you and he buried his face into your neck.

"H-hey Eren." You stumble over your words. Your body shakes and your chest starts to hurt slightly.

"What's wrong? You're shaking." Eren points out as you tried to calm yourself

You pull him over to the couch sit him down and sit next to him. Your heart was beating out your chest.

"Eren...I need to tell you something." You murmured loud enough for him to hear.

He looks at you with his beautiful green eyes piercing you. Your chest started to hurt more and more by every passing second.

"So..I-.." Your words get caught on your throat.

Eren notices this and puts his hand on your thigh.

"Ma, calm down. Take your time." He said.

You took a few deep breaths and started bouncing your leg to calm yourself.

"A few months ago, I went to the doctor for a small little check-up. You know I was in pain for some reason." You say trying to keep your tears in.

Eren nods, and you can already tell he's getting anxious by the way your acting.

"They didn't know the cause of my pain, so they ran a few tests...They made a discovery. My body has been destroying itself slowly..and-" you words get caught in your throat but you force yourself to continue.

"They said I don't have much longer to live.." you say quietly looking away from Eren.

"Baby. What do you mean you don't have much longer to live? You're sick? Why didn't you tell me this?" Eren asked question after question.

You look back at him and see his beautiful green eyes starting to flood with tears. His hair became disheveled from him raked his hands through it trying to calm himself.

"I..couldn't tell you." You said now tearing up too.

"Why not!" His voice boomed through the small place you were in. His tears finally escaped and ran down his face rapidly.

"Because I was fucking scared Eren! How can I tell the man I love I was going to die? I didn't know how and I didn't when to tell you." Your voice raises as you start to cry too.

"Y/N you're fucking dying! I deserve to know the love of my life is dying!" His voice cracked.

"I know. I know I'm sorry Eren I didn't know how to tell you." You rasped out.

"I-isn't there any medicine you can take?" Eren stumbled over his words.

You watch Eren's face scrunch up. You thought he was mad at you until he pulled you into a tight hug. His arms snaking around you. His head on your shoulder.

"We've tried everything..nothing is working." You say as tears pour down your face.

"I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you." He cried.

You cried just as much as your body ached slightly but you didn't even care at this point.

"I'm sorry Eren. I'm so sorry." Your voice cracked.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It's been a few days since you told Eren. Ever since then, Eren stuck to your hip. Going to every appointment, sleeping over at your house, going with you to the store. Wherever you were Eren was bound to be. That was until the doctors advised you to stay in the hospital full-time.

"Eren I have to go the doctors said I should stay in the hospital." You said as he hugged you tightly.

"I know...I just-...just let me hug for a few more minutes and I'll drop you off there." He rasped out trying to not cry.

He stayed there hugging you tightly for a few more minutes then let go of you. His beautiful green eyes filled with sadness.

"I'll drop you off now.." he said looking down his fist clenching slightly to stop himself from crying.

The drive there was silent besides your stuff the doctor said you could bring rattling around in the back of the car. Eren's hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. You could feel whenever he was getting extremely anxious because his grip on the thigh would strengthen.

When you guys finally made it there you watched as Eren parked the car and then rested his head on the steering wheel.

"Eren.." you say quietly.

It seems like he's in a trance because he didn't hear him.

"Eren." You say again.

His head snaps up to look at him and you see his eyes filled with tears again. His eyes were red as tears spilled out.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to calm down before we go in there." He says.

Your heart was breaking. You hated seeing him like this because of you. You hated that you were going to leave him so soon.

Your hand went up to his cheek, and he nuzzled his face into your hand. His lips kissed your hand gently. As he took a few deep breaths to pull himself together.

"I love you...I love you so much Y/N" He said his voice laced with worry.

"I love you too." You kiss him gently as he tries to calm himself.

It's been a few weeks since you've been in the hospital, and Eren was there every single day. He only went 3 places his house, school, and the hospital. You could see the stress eating away at him. Especially when you have coughing fits, or your body would randomly aches for hours. You didn't want to tell him just how painful it was. If you had to explain the pain in one word it would be excruciating, absolutely excruciating. You couldn't tell him that though worrying him would only cause you more stress. Today the doctor was going to ask you about the pain again, usually, Eren is at school. This time he was here and you knew you couldn't lie. The doctor has caught you in your lies at least 4 times. There was no use in trying to lie.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"So Miss Y/N, How has your body been feeling lately?" The doctor asks with a clipboard in their hand.

"Ah...Doctor Hange...My body..uhm.." you try to tell the doctor but Eren's presence was scaring you. You didn't want him to worry.

"It hurts a lot when I breathe in the left side of my chest, my legs ache if I stand for too long, my head hurts a lot, and...I've been experiencing dizzy spells. If I'm being honest...my whole body hurts..ears are constantly pounding.." you say quietly.

You watch as Eren's face turns into a sad frown and his hands fidget together.

"I see...I'll come back to you after I look at the test that we ran the other day," Hange said walking out quietly.

Eren quietly scrambled over to you and laid on your lap. Your hand strokes his head as he shakes.

"Ma, I..I love you.." he whispered.

"I love you too 'Ren" You smile bitterly.

He lays on your lap for about 10 minutes before Hange came back in trying to hide their grim expression.

"Miss Y/N I would like to speak to you privately." They said.

Eren looked at you about the protest but you sighed.

"Eren..go please you can come back in once we are done."

︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Doctor Hange told you the most devastating news you could hear. Your body seemed to be deteriorating even faster than before. Your pain was only going to get worse and worse. They said there was some more medicine you could try but it wasn't guaranteed to work. They also quietly stated you could get euthanized but they were strongly against it. They told you that they didn't want you to stress and to tell them what you wanted when you were ready. You quietly stated that you wanted the pain to end early, and that if that was the only way then so be it.

After Doctor Hange was done, Eren walked back in frantically. His eyes shoot to your very troubled expression. As of that moment, he didn't know that you had chosen to end your life. You had to break the news to him, and you hated that.

"Hi, Eren." You say with a say sad smile.

He quickly scrambles by your side and holds your hand.

"So...I was talking with the doctor, and they said I had two options.." you stated eyes looking down to avoid his sad expression.

You explain them and watch as his face darkens. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was either when you were in bad condition to basically pull the plug or to let you suffer. Both options were terrible.

"There's...nothing else we can do..?" He asks quietly gripping your hand.

"No...I'm sorry.." Hange said.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Days have passed and like Hange said you've only got worse. You lost so much weight, you were pale, your eyes could barely stay open, you threw up everything you ate and drank, and your breathing was labored. Eren stayed through it all. But unfortunately, it was the time your vitals weren't looking good, and the doctors could tell.

All of your friends and family were there to say their last goodbyes to you. It was bittersweet they knew you'd get peace but they'd also lose you. Eren stayed in the room watching from a distance with a grim expression. He wanted to cry but he simply couldn't as of now. His body wouldn't allow it. Maybe it was saving up for when you departed. Or maybe it was because he cried so much that he simply couldn't anymore.

After all your family and friends left, Eren came to you holding your hand gently. You smiled sadly. He lay there in a comfortable silence until he felt you fell asleep. He soon after followed suit. The exhaustion taking over.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Eren~" you giggled.

Eren turned to see you smiling brightly and hugged you tightly.

"Baby, please don't go.." Eren begged.

You smile softly and kiss all over his face gently. Each kiss you whispered something you loved about him.

"I'll never truly leave you, my love." You said sweetly.

You were shining so brightly like when you guys were in high school. He knew this was goodbye. You turn to hear someone calling you and smile. You began to walk away fading in the distance as Eren chased you.

"Y/N!" He screamed stumbling to the ground.

Eren jolted from his sleep and saw you with a sweet smile on your sickly face. He put his hand on your face you felt cold. His body froze shockingly still.

"Baby?" He said his throat beginning to tighten

"Nurse!" He screamed so loud that entire side of hospital probably heard.

"No, no, no please!" He cried

You died with the illness finally staking its claim on your life. Eren never truly got over your death. How could he? Still, that dream gave him some comfort.

[videochess]

Hi, please ignore this question if it's something you don't want to talk about for whatever reason, but it's my understanding that you were the developer of the unreleased game "Item Haver." It seems like a lot of the information online about this game is now dead links, and I'm really curious about what happened to it (you could probably guess what led me to learn of it's existence in the first place ^ ^'). I assume it is no longer in development, I'm just wondering if information on it being elusive was a deliberate choice or if that's just the nature of things documented entirely on abandoned social media accounts. Hopefully this isn't a rude question in any way, I mean no offense by it. Thank you for taking the time to read this, have a nice day (and I really like your art style!) :]

hi! i guess i'll answer this since i occasionally get questions about it and this one is particularly polite. (thank you!) "item haver" was a project i was working on like 10 or more years ago. the reason you can't find any information about it is because... [drumroll]... there really isn't any! even calling it a "game" or saying that it was "in development" at any point honestly feels like an overstatement. it was just a lil hobby project i was using to learn how to use Construct 2. i eventually lost interest in working on it due to various and thats all she wrote. whatevers up on the old itemhaver twitter is all there is, i made no effort to remove any information. theres no cool hidden stuff i wasnt showing either - i think basically if i worked on something, it got posted. bad habit!! anyway. the only reason people keep bringing this old thing up is because there seems to be an idea within certain parts of the undertale fandom that it's connected to that game or to toby somehow...? it's literally not. item haver was all me and it was barely anything. the only miniscule shred of a string of a scrap of connection between the two things are the songs "mystery", "havercity", and "ballchime", composed by toby. and you REALLY have to stretch for these to count as a connection. to my memory, it goes like this: toby shared a wip song ("mystery") and i responded "ah, item haver city theme..." or something implying it'd suit an area in my project. then toby responded with a different more snes-y rendition of the same song ("havercity"), saying that this version would suit it better or something like that. finally, he eventually ended up using a snippet of "mystery" as an easter egg in undertale ("ballchime"), because it's a song he made and didn't end up using for anything else, so why not i guess?

anyway, the main takeaway here is that toby didn't make anything for item haver, he just posted a wip song that i liked and we had a little back and forth about it. i honestly don't even remember if this exchange was public on twitter or if people only have these songs due to being nosy little directory-crawling creeps. unknown.

having an old abandoned learning project of mine pinned anywhere on the "undertale iceberg" by certain fans desperate for "lore" is equal parts funny and annoying tbh. like, on some level i get it, i love trawling tcrf.net for scraps of development info regarding games i grew up with, but that feels just a little bit different from this!!

one last thing to close this up: ive had a few well-meaning folks ask if i ever plan to return to the project. the answer is no, probably not - like i said, it was 10+ years ago and the "game" was barely anything to begin with. yall got fooled by my twitter gamedev gifs!!! gotcha!!!! ok bye

[aventurineswife]

Hello :) I'm not very used to sending requests so I hope this is okay 😅

Can I request Aventurine with a teen reader who has a similar backstory to him but got picked up by the astral express instead of joining the IPC? I'm sorry if that isn't enough info but that's the premise. Have a good day and ty in advance

Life’s little gambles

Summary: The Astral Express crew makes a stop at an IPC station where you, a member of their team with a dark and strategic past, encounter Aventurine, one of the Ten Stonehearts. Aventurine recognizes your shared experiences and offers wisdom about embracing your new path while acknowledging the allure of your past. Your conversation leaves you reflecting on your journey and the power of choice.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Teen!Reader, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Conversations, Mentorship, Self-Reflection.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Themes of loneliness and inner conflict.

A/N: I wrote something similar like this before too🤔, here's the one if you're curious about it!

(artist: srro_yo on Twitter/X)

The hum of the Astral Express served as a soothing constant against the ever-shifting backdrops of the universe. Aboard the train, the crew was abuzz with their usual activities: March 7th snapping photos, Dan Heng engrossed in research, Himeko brewing her signature coffee, and Welt poring over galactic maps. Among them was you, the newest addition to their family. A teenager with a past as jagged and raw as a broken mirror, you were still finding your footing among these kind strangers.

Your quiet demeanor and strategic mind had piqued their interest, but it was the fractured look in your eyes that truly bound you to their hearts. You’d shared snippets of your history—a harsh upbringing in a desert-like world, gambling with your survival, and the scars that came with being a pawn in someone else’s cruel game. Himeko had been the one to coax out these stories during quiet nights over tea, while March sought to draw out your smile through her infectious energy.

Today, however, the Express made an unexpected stop at an IPC station. The platform gleamed with opulence—gold-trimmed structures, bustling workers in sharp suits, and the distant sound of a roulette wheel spinning somewhere. It was there you met him: Aventurine.

He was hard to miss. Standing tall with his hair swept back, eyes scanning the station with a mix of boredom and sharp calculation, Aventurine looked every bit the enigma his reputation promised. He spotted the Express crew almost immediately, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer than the others.

“Astral Express,” he greeted smoothly, his voice like a velvet gamble. “It’s not every day you cross paths with one of the Ten Stonehearts.”

March tilted her head, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion evident in her expression. “Ten Stonehearts? That sounds… important.”

Himeko, always composed, stepped forward. “A pleasure, Mr. Aventurine. To what do we owe the honor?”

Aventurine’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Just business as usual. But…” His eyes returned to you, sharp and knowing. “You… You have the look of someone who knows how to play the game.”

Caught off guard, you stiffened, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t often someone recognized the shadow of your past so quickly.

Dan Heng, ever protective, subtly stepped closer to you. “Do you know each other?”

“Not yet,” Aventurine said, his tone light but laced with intrigue. “But I see the marks of the same battlefield. Life hasn’t been kind to you, has it, kid?”

Your breath hitched. How could he see through you so easily? You glanced at Himeko, whose reassuring nod gave you the courage to respond. “No… it hasn’t. But I’ve found a better path now.”

Aventurine chuckled, a sound both amused and bitter. “Good for you. Most of us aren’t so lucky. Tell me, though—do you ever miss it? The thrill of the gamble, the rush of defying fate?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The truth was, you did—sometimes. The chaos of your past had been painful, but it had also been exhilarating in its own twisted way. Before you could answer, Aventurine stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“Let me guess,” he murmured. “They saved you from the abyss. But there’s a part of you that wonders… what if you had learned to swim instead?”

The rest of the crew had stepped away, giving you space to talk. Aventurine leaned against a railing, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I’m not trying to pull you back,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “But I know what it’s like to live with those questions. To wonder if you could’ve played your cards better.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “And what about you? Are you happy with where you ended up?”

Aventurine tilted his head, his enigmatic smile returning. “Happiness is… a luxury. But power? Control? Those I’ve earned. The IPC is my table, and I always leave with the house’s winnings.”

You studied him, torn between admiration and pity. “That sounds… lonely.”

“It is,” he admitted, surprising you with his honesty. “But it’s better than being someone else’s pawn. And you—” He pointed a gloved finger at you, his eyes alight with intensity. “You’re not a pawn anymore. Don’t forget that, no matter how tempting the old game gets.”

His words lingered with you long after he bid the crew farewell. As the Express pulled away from the station, you sat in the lounge, staring out at the stars. Dan Heng approached, his presence steady and grounding.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You nodded, though your thoughts were far away. “Yeah… I think so.”

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a strange sense of peace. Aventurine’s words had stirred something in you—a reminder that while the past might always call, you had the power to decide your future.

From the station platform(?), Aventurine watched the Astral Express disappear into the cosmos. A rare, genuine smile crossed his face.

“Good luck, kid,” he murmured to the stars. “Play your cards right.”

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Inspired by this anon along with the amazing snippet @kit-williams wrote for it

Relationships: Vulkan/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Pred/Prey, Rough sex, Blood

You fall again, and the jagged rocks bite at your knees and palms. Little speckles of blood dot across your palms as you look at him, before quickly getting up and trying to run again.

A stupid mistake- now he'll be able to smell exactly where you are. He already can, you know the scent of your sweat lingers in the air like smoke, but fresh blood is like a beacon you can't get away from fast enough.

You lost him for a short while, slipping through a tunnel that wasn't large enough for him to get through. Your smaller stature remains your single advantage you have against him.

But the tunnels echo sound incredibly well, and you can sometimes hear his footsteps ringing through the system of caves. He can hear yours as well, tracking you down and gaining on you.

"Did you cut yourself? I can smell the blood,"

Entering one of the wider, huge main tunnels you look around quickly for a little rat hole to take next, trying to avoid standing like prey in the middle of such a huge area. You think you see a few options, but the one farthest down seems the smallest, and your best bet.

Rushing towards it you're almost there when you suddenly hear the sound of his footsteps thundering through the system of caves; Rocks crumbling underneath his feet.

"There you are,"

He appears at the far end of the tunnel blocking off your exit, and you nearly fall attempting to scramble backwards.

You know he's just playing, that this is just a fun game you had propositioned, but when he starts running towards you every primal, instinctual animal part of your brain tells you he's a predator- to run- you let out a bloodcurdling scream that rips through your throat and puts spittle on your lips.

Quickly you scramble towards the closest tunnel that you think can't fit him, but only by a few feet. Dug by the astartes you assume.

Vulkan however laughs at your screams, like a wolf driven by the squeaks of an limping, injured rabbit.

He's being slow on purpose, letting you run into your safe tunnel out of his reach. He's trying to extend the game on purpose and enjoy it. He could catch you in an instant if he truly wanted to, but half the fun is stalking you; Cornering you.

In a less stressful time you might find it interesting how despite him being so much softer than his fellow primarchs, there is still that latent, apex predator instinct in him that loves this. You aren't supposed to run from predators, it triggers that prey drive in them, and that's exactly what you think Vulkan is feeling when you scurry away from him. There's something in his eyes that's changed the few times you've caught sight of him since the hunt started.

"I can hear you're getting tired. How much longer do you think you can keep this up?"

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you hide, seeing him walk past the entrance you just went into.

You try to watch and listen as his footsteps trail farther and farther away, and you assume he's going to the other side of the tunnel you're in. Cautiously peeking out the way you went in you don't see him, or hear him, and quickly you scurry out to try another way.

Down the large main tunnel you run and try to ignore the burning in your throat; You're so thirsty, you'd almost consider letting him catch you to just get some water.

You don't know how long it's been- It could only have been an hour for all you know. But you're so tired, stopping in front of a step in your path.

For an astartes it would be a steep step up, but for you, it's a small climb. You jump and with a grunt manage to fold yourself onto it, legs dangling. Your feet kick trying to dig your shoe in to get purchase on the rocks, trying to wiggle higher and get the rest of your body up.

suddenly you feel the ground begin to shake, the sound of his footsteps quickly begins to close in.

You gather all the strength you can to try and clamber for more purchase on the rocks, feeling your heart begin to race as you panic. Despite everything telling you not to you turn around and see him come into view, right towards you. Once he realizes that you're partly stuck he quickens, and you let out another scream as you quickly try and pull up your other leg. But each rock you get a toe on crumbles, causing your heart and your breathing to quicken as he approaches.

You manage to get to your hands and knees on the stone only for him to suddenly grab you by the legs, and you let another another scream. Your hands dig into the dust and dirt and rocks to try and clamber away, kicking your legs at his arms. For a moment you almost don't even remember this is Vulkan- your mind is just saying run.

"You thought you could sneak around me?"

Dragging you across the stone floor to him he lets you dangle off the step, lying on your stomach while your legs hang of the edge. He's tearing at your clothes, your bottoms torn to shreds and you gasp as you feel the weight of his cock against you. The thick head of his cock slips between your outer lips and pushes against your entrance, and you feel the burn of your muscles trying to stretch while the dirt and stone scratches your skin. Your dry throat can only manage to let out a pathetic cry, one that hiccups as your parched mouth can't keep the noise smooth.

"The hunt is over, now I can enjoy the reward."

The light in he room is dim, the candles mostly melted. You watch the little flames flicker as Vulkan puts a bandage on your torn knee, patting it gently.

"You should try to fall less down there, I wouldn't want you breaking any bones."

You puff out your cheeks full of air before blowing them at him. The warmth of his palms radiates over your skin, feeling good almost as if using a heatpack on sore muscles.

"I try not to, but it's a bit hard to keep upright when a massive primarch is running at you. You're lucky I didn't crumple to the ground and let my heart give out."

Vulkan chuckles, a soft smile on his face that makes your face grow warm.

"You know I would never truly hurt you," He says, and you nod.

"I know, but it's still terrifying," You say. Vulkan moves to bandage your other knee. "I think I could go for longer next time, though." The way he looks up at you is amused but dark, implying that you want more.

"You want to do this again?" You nod, an eagerness held within it that had you embarrassingly warm.

"Of course; I know the layout of the tunnels better now, I think I could avoid you for longer." Vulkan finishes bandaging your other knee and puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You assume I would bring you to the same tunnels?" Quickly you loose your smile.

"Yes! This is your home and you dug many of these tunnels, let me have a bit of an advantage!" Vulkan laughs, hands squeezing your hips with a comfortable pressure. You swing your legs a bit and one bumps into his stomach by accident.

"That is fair." He looks at you. "You should try not to exert yourself so soon though, I knew right away you would tire yourself out and I could corner you." You look at him curiously, holding your arms.

"You want to make it more difficult for you?"

Vulkan leans in to give you a kiss. His eyes have a bit of that darkness you saw down in the tunnels.

"No true hunter enjoys easy prey. We want a real chase."

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Omg you have no idea how excited I am for the new George fic, a NOVEL!?! You spoil us, you truly do. May I please see the tiniest of snippets? Don't wanna ask for too much !!

Yeah, it's so wild to consider that I wrote a novel in a week, but a short novel (or a novella) is 40k and the fic is 50k in total lmao. Because once I started writing these characters, I couldn't stop. Also, I have even started working on a companion piece for this fic with ideas that I wanted to use but couldn't find a place for in the main fic. So... I might be releasing two fics in this verse. Who knows. I am just soooo obsessed with this George x Slytherin Reader dynamic

NOW POSTED - Part One of the fic is now posted <3

(and if you are reading this after April 2025, Part Two may be posted as well and it might already be complete. it's a two part fic)

I'm Not Angry (Anymore) - George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader (Enemies to Lovers) - FANFIC PREVIEW

Warnings: There's not much in the way of warnings for this small section, but the fuller fic will have more emotions, more elements of angst - including themes of blood purity, family betrayal, and all the themes that come with the war times in Harry Potter (death, torture, killing people due to personal prejudice); the longer version of the fic will also have smut - a lot of it. This section only has some descriptions of slightly creepy masks, the horrors of working in retail, and Fred being rude toward the reader character being her back. Also, the reader character goes by she/her pronouns, but most of the pronouns used throughout the fic will be you/yours.

Word Count: 1,700

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out in a few weeks, go over to my writing blog @sundrop-writes and follow me there (but it will be reblogged to this blog as well, so you can follow me here if you want to)

...

“Um, excuse me, Miss?” 

You were distracted away from your work when someone called for your attention - you had been opening and unpacking a new box of Screaming Yo-Yos, but you put that aside for now. You looked up and put on your best (rather fake) customer service smile, the shelf in front of you still half empty, only halfway done as you abandoned it to help the customer. 

You rose up from your back-aching kneeling position on the floor and wiped your hands on your apron - an ugly, obnoxiously bright orange one with the Weasley W on the chest, your uniform. A bit of public embarrassment to go along with the forced nicety that you had to participate in while doing the job. You straightened yourself to better speak to the person - a woman in her forties who most definitely wasn’t the regular clientele for the shop. 

“Yes?” You said, your voice bright in a very forced way, your fake smile continuing to beam toward her as she responded with a grin. 

“My son absolutely loves this sort of stuff, and I was wondering if this would be a good gift for his birthday?” She asked, gesturing toward a large fireworks display behind her. 

Your eyes wandered toward the obligatory ‘must be at least sixteen years old to purchase’ sign that the twins had put on the fireworks display. One that Hermione had been down their throats about adding after multiple of her first and second year students had nearly taken fingers off from lighting the fireworks and then holding onto them as they exploded, despite the clear instructions on the packaging. 

“How old is your son?” You asked, trying to sound politely curious rather than cautious. You knew better than to scare away a potential customer. 

“He’s ten. About to turn eleven. I wanted to get him something for his big day.” She said, clearly beaming with pride. 

“Those are a bit, uh… advanced.” You said, choosing your words very carefully. “I think I know something much better for someone his age.” 

You put a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her over to a section of products that the twins had recently come out with - animal themed masks with animated, moving features that made genuine, loud animal sounds when the wearer put them on. They were a big hit with younger kids, especially for sneaking up behind people and scaring them with a loud sound. Even if you found the display to be loud and annoying, you did have to admit that it was adorable to see smaller kids put the masks on and get so excited to become their favourite animal. 

“Morph-O-Masks.” You said, motioning toward the display with an outstretched, showy arm that felt far too familiar of your red-haired bosses. They were rubbing off on you in a painfully obvious way. “They make genuine animal sounds, have moving tongues and ears, and we just released a Hungarian Horntail-” 

“Oh my little Gareth would love this one,” 

The woman said, clearly excited, picking up the classic lion mask with the large, furry mane and the mouth that opened wide to let out a loud, realistic roar. 

“He’s been hoping to get into Gryffindor, just like his father. I didn’t go to Hogwarts myself. I’m American, you see, so I went to Salem. But I moved here when my Walter proposed. And we had sweet little Gareth a few months later. Fat little baby, he was-” 

“That is our best seller,” You commented with a nod, trying to gently cut off the woman’s rambling. 

“Thank you so much, dear.” The woman thanked you, and much to your internal annoyance - she then pulled you in for a tight hug. 

You rolled your eyes sharply over her shoulder, your fake smile dropping into a harsh scowl where she couldn’t see, and you were simply thankful when the hug lasted no more than a three count (because you most definitely were counting in your head). When she pulled away, you directed her to the cash register where Fred was waiting and got back to stocking the yo-yos. 

Your thankfulness quickly ended the moment you turned around and found the other twin waiting for you. George was lingering behind you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

“‘That’s our best seller’,” He repeated your words, mocking you in a girlish tone that did not at all sound like you. 

“Shut up,” You griped, rolling your eyes again, shoving your hands sharply into the pockets of your apron in order to resist the urge to hit him. You had to force yourself to remember that it wasn’t your school days anymore, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job as much as you could afford to lose a few house points over your petty squabbling. 

“No, really, that was great.” He continued on, still grinning with an intense satisfaction - it made you want to slap him. Not because you didn’t like to see him smiling, but because it felt like he was mocking you. “You’re finally settling into the job now, eh?” 

“It’s work,” You shrugged, eager to end the conversation. 

You attempted to move around him to get back to unpacking the yo-yos - but with the isles cramped so tightly together and with his body so stupidly broad, he easily blocked your way as he leaned in closer, forcing you to take a step back as he moved to grab something off the Morph-O-Mask display. 

You hated that you caught a whiff of his cologne along the way, during the moment that you were a bit too close to him as he moved toward the display and you couldn’t move away fast enough. The scent was far too strong, a cedarwood and lavender that you hated, and even so, his hard day’s work was causing the slightest bit of sweat to seep through - it was truly awful.

(That’s what you told yourself, anyway.) 

“I see you still haven’t sold any of the serpents yet.” He chimed, holding up a scaly bright green serpent mask from the display. “If this was a house war, I would say that Gryffindor is winning,” 

You knew that it was no coincidence that the original line of masks had consisted of a golden yellow lion, a green serpent, a bronze eagle, and a black and white badger (one that let out a very terrifying snarl and had rather creepy beady red eyes - that was the reason you hadn’t sold many of those, not due to any lack of loyalty from Hufflepuffs). It wasn’t your fault that kids were more attracted to the ones that came in the secondary release - different types of dragons, a spider with snapping fangs and dozens of eyes, even the black cat that purred and flicked its ears sold out more often than the serpent. 

“Did you consider the inherent bias?” You posed, tilting your head at him. “This is a shop owned by two Gryffindors, therefore you are bound to have more Gryffindor customers - especially due to the bias of your grassroots marketing back at Hogwarts, which only took place primarily within Gryffindor Tower,” 

George’s face knit with intense thought as you explained this, and you were glad that for once, he was pensive and taking in your words, rather than cutting you off with some kind of joke. 

“And even unconsciously, you put more care and thought into the design of the lion mask, so it did turn out to be the best one,” You hated to admit it, but it was true. 

Between the quality of the fur and the intense beauty of the eyes - the way it raised its mouth and let out the deep intimidating roar - it was beautiful.

“And it’s the one you have used primarily for marketing,” You pointed to the front window, where the lion mask was on a stand advertising the new product. “It’s like you set up the serpent to fail. And then you blame it on a poor stock girl for not shilling it hard enough,” 

You ground intense sarcasm into your final words, taking the green mask from his hands and tossing it back onto the shelf with the others, finally skirting around him as he stood there shocked into silence. He was genuinely impressed by the amount of thought you had put into it. He finally snapped out of his shock by the time you had knelt back down beside the box of yo-yos, continuing to neatly stock the shelf with them. 

“Well, perhaps next time we should consult a Slytherin for further research and development,” He said, giving you a grin. 

“Let me know when you find one who’s willing to donate her time,” You replied, brisk and cool, grabbing the finally empty cardboard box from the yo-yos and shuffling back to the storage room, thankful to have an excuse to finally flee away from George and escape the conversation. 

You were behind the thick wood of the storage room door by the time that George wandered over to the front counter. 

“That was smooth.” Fred breathed out, entirely sarcastic. 

“Oi, that was the longest we’ve ever gone without her insulting me. I am making progress.” George replied. 

“Yeah, at this point, you’ll be going on your first date in your fifties and be married by the time I have grandchildren,” Fred joked. 

“You don’t even know if Angelina wants kids,” George prodded, eager to navigate around the subject of his pathetic crush. 

“Yeah, but at least I know she wants me. At least I’m not hung up on some stone cold Slytherin bit-” 

“Hey!” George chastised, knowing that he would have easily hurled that kind of language at you during your school days, understanding why Fred rolled his eyes. “Maybe I like cold.” 

“Then go stick your cock in the ice box,” Fred sighed. “Maybe it’ll help you get over this nonsense so you can actually pick someone who’s good for you.” 

George didn’t say anything further, not daring to voice the words to a brother who just couldn’t understand. There was no one else for him, no one else who lived in his heart - no one else but you.

...

NOTE - This is just a small preview of a longer fic that will come out later. If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, go and follow my writing blog, or follow me here, as I will reblog the fic here when it's posed.