#this is a desperate attempt to form a headcanon that i cannot explain right now but will get back to and will probably leave in my drafts

[yellowheartz]

Kubosai mafia?!?!?!

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[elencelebrindal]

Sorry if they're too many, you don't have to answer everything! What is your fave novel of the three? Favorite/least favorite character for each one? Favorite male/female character for each one (aside from you all-time fave)? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non-canon ship? Least favorite of them (and why)? Favorite tool/weapon in the three? They're so many, sorrysorrysorry!

Don’t worry, I love answering questions! There might be some spoilers here, so... be wary of them. 

Ok, let’s go in order:

1.

My favorite novel of the three is Tian Guan Ci Fu. When I read Mo Dao Zu Shi I told myself “okay, I don’t think anything could beat this”, and then TGCF came around. I think this novel is, in general, one of my favorite books of all time. Aside from the romance part of it (which is often what people mainly focus on when it comes to MXTX), I really loved the characters and the story is absolutely incredible. I ended up getting so involved in it that I read the entire thing + the extras in three days, subsequently read what was out of the manhua in... maybe two hours? and watched the entire donghua as soon as it came on Netflix in one sitting. The only time this happened to me before TGCF was with the Silmarillion. 

This tells a lot. 

2.

Favorite SVSSS character: Luo BingHe shares his first place with Shen QingQiu.

Least favorite SVSSS character: Immortal Master Lao Gongzhu of Huan Hua Palace. I cannot even begin to explain how disgusted I was by that character, I almost never hated anyone more than him. 

Favorite MDZS character: Wei WuXian. He’s been my favorite character from the beginning. His story follows exactly one of my favorite character dynamic, much like many other favorites of mine (from good to evil to neutral/somewhat good again, even if in this case WWX didn’t actually turn evil). I’m pretty sure the same can be said of almost everyone in my favorite list... oh well.

Least favorite MDZS character: it’s a tough choice between Su She, Wen Chao, and Jin ZiXun. I just... I disliked them so much. It’s not even hate, I just didn’t want to see them on screen. Maybe Wen Chao is the worst of them... yeah, he’s the worst. I could count Jiang Cheng in my least favorites as well, but my reasons for not liking him are way too complicated so I won’t insult him so much. 

Favorite TGCF character: Hua Cheng!!!!!!!

Least favorite TGCF character: I don’t have a least favorite character. 

3. 

Favorite SVSSS male character aside from LBH and SQQ: MoBei-Jun and LiuQingGe. I’m not troubling myself with trying to choose between them.

Favorite SVSSS female character: I used to be torn between Sha HuaLing and Liu MingYan, but SHL follows my general preferences way more so she wins. 

Favorite MDZS male character aside from WWX: Wen Ning. He deserves all the love in the world. All of it. Also I really love Nie MingJue and Xiao XingChen. 

Favorite MDZS female character: Jiang Yanli (because I fell in love with her gentle personality while watching The Untamed and I can’t bear myself to stop loving her). Wen Qing is right up there with her.

Favorite TGCF male character aside from HC: well, first of all Xie Lian. Second of all, Bai WuXiang and He Xuan.

Favorite TGCF female character: Ling Wen, but only because I don’t count Shi QingXuan as a fully fledged female (I am too in love with both forms to choose one side, sorry guys). 

4. (they’re all going to be the main ones, lol)

Favorite canon SVSSS ship: Shen QingQiu x Luo BingHe, though... MoBei-Jun x Shang QingHua is a really close second. 

Least favorite canon SVSSS ship: I don’t think I have one? I mean, there’s not much material to examine when it comes to canon pairings.

Favorite canon MDZS ship: Wei WuXian x Lan Wangji.

Least favorite canon MDZS ship: it’s not really a ship (I think, maybe it’s just me?) but whatever they tried to do with Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing in the drama doesn’t sit right with me. For reasons that are a bit more complicated than it seems, and that would need me explaining my opinion about JC first. 

Favorite canon TGCF ship: Hualian! Hualian! Hualian! Hua Cheng x Xie Lian is one of my all time favorite ships, in general. I stand by the statement “Hualian invented love”. 

Least favorite canon TGCF ship: that weird bullshit the mortal realm like to do with Shi QingXuan and Shi Wudu. Poor guys. It’s canon only because their perverted followers say so. 

5.

Favorite non-canon SVSSS ship: I don’t think I have one...? Maybe ZhuZhi-Lang and TianLang-Jun, but I’m still way too confused about that. I know people ship a lot Liu QingGe and Shen QingQiu, but I never saw the appeal of it.

Least favorite non-canon SVSSS ship: again, don’t have one, mostly because I never delved too deeply in the world of non-canon SVSSS ships. 

Favorite non-canon MDZS ship: Xiao XingChen x Song Lan. It’s probably the pairing that makes the most sense (to me) out of everyone else. And it’s heartbreaking, so bonus points for that. 

Least favorite non-canon MDZS ship: Xiao XingChen x Xue Yang. [heavy spoiler alert] I absolutely HATE this pairing. I love Xue Yang, he’s an amazing villain, but this pairing is straight up abuse, no matter how you look at it. I am a sucker for angsty shit, but I really draw the line at the fucked up pairing that is this one. Xue Yang literally destroyed Xiao XingChen psychologically, lied to him for years, gaslighted him, forced him to kill innocent people, forced him to kill Song Lan, and then ended up ruining him so much that Xiao XingChen killed himself and destroyed his own soul. 

I have no idea why people love this pairing so much, but I genuinely hate it. There’s nothing redeeming about it. 

Another ship I don’t like is Jiang Cheng x Lan XiChen, but once again this has more convoluted reasons that revolve around JC, mainly. There’s also Lan XiChen x Jin GuangYao. Please, no. I really don’t like it. 

Favorite non-canon TGCF ship: Pei Ming x Shi Wudu and He Xuan x Shi QingXuan. We all know why beefleaf is important in our hearts, so let me explain something about Pei Ming and Shi Wudu; this pairing doesn’t mean I completely disregard everything else about Pei Ming. He’s our good old manwhore womanizer and I haven’t changed that (too much). But this pairing... in my headcanon, which is something I’m also going to write in my desperate attempt and being a good fanfic writer, Pei Ming fell in love with him so hard that he was like “okay, fine, there’s just you now, I’m done with sleeping around”. After Shi Wudu dies, Pei Ming keeps his word and doesn’t cheat on him for the reminder of his life. My own headcanon is the reason why this is my favorite non-canon ship. I stumbled into it my complete chance, but I genuinely love it. 

Least favorite non-canon TGCF ship: anything that has Xie Lian and Hua Cheng not with each other. I don’t like seeing them paired with anyone else. 

6.

Favorite SVSSS weapon/tool: Xin Mo and Xiu Ya. 

Favorite MDZS weapon/tool: Chenqing

Favorite TGCF weapon/tool: E-Ming and Fang Xin

If you want to ask anything else, feel free! My blog is mostly Saint Seiya, but I do write about other stuff if you ask me! ^ - ^

[toneinaflat]

*kicks down door* Why can't Krit be caught in a pokeball and why is he permanently mega-evolved? (I'm not the pokemon fbi I swear)

O-KAY! So, get ready for some explaining.

Number ONE, The reason why krit cannot be captured in a pokeball.

He's technically not a wild pokemon. He used to have a trainer, someone who was a caretaker figure for him. Krit let them catch him so they could stay together easily.

His trainer had died, but the pokeball, on that day, was left safe and sound, not broken. A headcanon of mine is, if the trainer is gone, and the pokeball is broken completely (which i have seen happen), the pokemon is set free, becoming a wild pokemon again. Though, this is a mean alternative if you're the trainer. Its even ruder if you'd do it to a pokemon with a trainer gone. But, it gets the job done in wanting that pokemon.

2. "Why is Krit Permanently Mega-Evolved?"

Now THIS one is where some non canon pokemon universe stuff comes in. This IS overrift, after all. A *rift* between universes. A literal crossover universe for universes to collide and live with one-another.

Back on track.

Krit was...not left very well mentally after their trainer was..well, killed infront of them. In a. Brutal way which I will NOT state here in public.

With that, he desperately wanted his caretaker figure back, especially since he'd lost his previous parents before and didnt know where his siblings went.

Until, a bit after the death, one voice spoke to him.

It told him, if he had collected enough souls of people who had fallen over the cliff into the trees and flowers, he could bring his trainer back.

With this..well, I forgot to mention..

He has a brother, Pikachu! Well, Pichu, at the time. His real name is Danny, which I had recently revealed. He's adopted, of course.

ANYWAYS- Krit went on this..killing spree for a while. After every death of someone, he became more unstable, to the point of sometimes not even being able to respond to his own brother. Danny was afraid that he'd completely lost Krit at this point, and was afraid to even interact with him.

One day, A little cloaked girl fell down. Danny, however, was there first, in a desperate attempt to save whoever had fallen down.

He snuck them into their home, not letting Krit see who they were.

(BY the way, they were a Lucario at the time, not a riolu!! Krit, was the lucario. not the girl)

Eventually, the girl wandered off outside the house, only to be met with krit, who wanted to quickly get rid of them. "Maybe its the last one..." he hoped, but before he could finish an attack, Danny had shielded himself infront of the girl, resulting in an evolution, evolving into a Pikachu. He begged for him not to kill them. He told them, teary-eyed, that "this WOULDNT be the one, NO one would be the one to bring her back..! Krit, PLEASE, listen to me..!"

He

He stopped. He hadn't heard Danny's voice in ages this clearly.

He realized what he'd done these past years.

Before he could utter a word, Another figure appeared in a cloak, blasting krit away, as they grabbed the girl, seeming to be their father.

"When will we see Danny again?"

'I dont know Sage.'

The little girl and father figure had disappeared.

..Meanwhile..

After that whole ordeal had happened, Krit was walking along a trail, looking for a way to say sorry in a truthful way.

..He had found this sparkly heart stone, in a specific..Pink, and dusty purple.

"I..I could gift this to him, and..apologize. That'd be nice, right..?"

As he picked the stone up, he glowed as..

..He evolved into a Mega Lucario.

A bit freaked out, he sprinted to a cave, planning to wait it out. He knew Mega Lucario form's were only temporary.

He waited.

Minutes turned into days.

Days turned into weeks.

Those weeks..turned into a month.

Nothing changed. Though, the intense aura around him did fade, and he still had control over his actions and emotions. He decided that..that wouldnt go away. The stone had disappeared. The stone was a trap, set by the same person who blasted him away, to put him in "eternal suffering".

..He needed to learn how to control his strength..and he did. He went back to Danny, explaining what happened. Danny....wasn't really suprised, and was just glad that he came back safely.

This mega form will never go away, its well, a permanent, rare curse. But Krit doesnt really care for that part anymore, because sometimes, when he thinks about it, he calls himself "a bit unlucky, but special".

His star necklace, a gift from his past trainer, has been preventing his Mega form from bursting with power, and its letting him control most of his emotions and powers, too.

...Though, all of this power is being built up. Theres no telling on what would happen if the necklace were to stay off for too long.

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING TO MY REALLY LONG RANT DJFJJSJFJWF!!!!!!! ID BE HAPPY TO EXPLAIN MORE OF MY OC STUFF!! THIS WAS EPIC N AMAZING TO DO :D THANK UOU FOR ASKING AGAIN!!!!!!

have art of him and his wife as thank you :)

[seeneverything]

today i decided to replay nick’s dlc! not only to catch back up and remain canon, but to look into his journals and the notes / environment around a little deeper to see if i can discover anything more about him, the game’s story, and the timeline of the game.

i have to say it somewhat surprised me that nick has handwriting that’s legible. i figured it would be similar to sally’s -- very here and there with hardly any grammar, punctuation, and horrendous spelling. yet nick’s journals though brief, are quite linguistic. a pleasant surprise.

but without further ado, my metas are under the cut! a very long read so i hope you enjoy it. i tried my best to divide it into some sort of organization as i could. <3

GENERAL LORE :

ever wondered what an original joy bottle looks like? well, nick has one.

it’s tucked in the far back in his kitchen, behind a light on his shelf. initially i thought it was some random drug and it was more proof of the dlc being pre-game. but if you look closer, the words underneath wellington wells’ emblem say  “EVERY DAY, JOIN THE FUN”  which is a clear indication of what it actually was. and beside the emblem, just to the right, if you really squint, it says  “FLAVOR:”  but it’s hidden and you can’t sneak around to the other side. however, considering how old it is, especially from the wear and tear on the sticker, one could probably imagine it being haworth’s own vanilla.

which intrigues me. i wouldn’t doubt that nick was one of the very first people who got the initial batches. virgil dainty found him when he was still a young poet in his teenage years. meaning he probably snatched him when he was around 16. if we play it out like he was 16 when the train came and took all 13 and under, nick would be around 32 during the base game. but i honestly doubt that since the make believes released more singles than albums, and they released the album around the time of strawberry’s release, as inferred by the cover of the album. so for now and to me, nick is somewhere between mid-late 30s.

speaking of joy though, does anyone remember the whole debate about the type of joy nick was taking in the dlc? it wasn’t any type at all. in fact, it was something sally made herself.

“Vibing my guitar always helps me remember things. Like where I put my Sally Specials.”

Those reds and yellows are just another one of the many street drugs that Sally sells to her clients. Probably something like rainbow and the like, but much, much weaker and not as long-lasting. After all, Nick has to take five at one time to black out. Probably at least three of them to feel any sort of a buzz at all.   ( as a side note, it personally makes me wonder if sally had anything to do with the production phlash. i’d love to see if there were any notes of it anywhere. )

I had a headcanon a while back that the woman using the power cell was using a sex toy. After all, she has a suitcase that’s cleverly hidden under her bed. If Nick believes it’s this, it makes sense that he’s aware of the “fun part of town,” unlike Arthur and Ollie once in the Parade. Yes, he goes there for sex and relief, but also because he makes deals with the owners to sell adult-themed merch. Wouldn’t be surprised if there were dildos, lube, even lingerie like Nick’s threads -- very, very plausible if there are full sex dolls.

With the Sally Specials and the Joy Bottle being so old, it could still be proof that it’s pre-game as well. After all, if Nick is still around Sally ONLY to obtain to drugs from her, then it could be easily inferred. After all, Sally remembers her time with Nick in the past together, not in the present. And that is pre-1964.

A LITTLE MORE ABOUT NICKY :

it’s absolutely no secret that nick hates himself. from the scratches on the mirror that hide his face and spell  “USELESS,”  to the inferred suicidal attempts from downing entire bottles of joy with alcohol. the puke is always so rancid in the sink. but there’s also this, too.

it’s funny how nick tends to keep scratching at his head and his eyes. the persona is who he’s trying to cover up i imagine, considering that there are multiple voicelines in the game that says he never meant to cause any harm. and he never meant to commit all the unpleasantries that come with being a rockstar. one of them being infidelity and adultery, and another being a general asshole to the public. overtime i believed that nick gained celebrity syndrome. which is essentially just being a karen on steroids. nick believes he doesn’t need to pay for anything, and he also has the innate ability to give orders to people. just because, in his mind, he’s the best in the world. the avalon’s manager wants to get back at him once and for all for his bossy attitude. but he’s not the only one who feels that, either.

petunia does as well.

nick’s love-life is an extremely complicated one. aside from the the various forms of substance abuse and exposure to said substances, nick has always had his rockstardom become the center of his universe. see, this is all headcanon but, i personally believe that nick was coddled as a child by his overbearing mother. mama told him the world would love him. and mama told him that the world would never hurt him, and that it would be perfect and easy to get through. but then he saw just how hurtful people could be, and just how much hate the world had to offer. and to him, at that. it was extremely difficult to find love in anything and anyone. especially himself. so finding petunia was very, very reassuring. after all, she did promise him, as nick said during the boss fight, to be the lighthouse on all his rocky shores. indicating that she would be the one to lead him back home, and make him stable. and i’m sure for a while, it did.

canonically, until nick lightbearer overtook norbert pickles. he found so many more people who loved him that way. and thus, he let the life of his own stardom take over everything else. including his love life. even more so when the birds threatened hatred and slander to his name if they couldn’t shag him. and if they didn’t manipulate him, nick was so afraid of losing another fan that he wouldn’t care. it felt good anyway, why not fuck people? he keeps a fan, doesn’t worry about being hated, and keeps the life of love toward him going.

not even thinking about petunia in the process. and instead of showing him that he didn’t need all the fans, instead of showing him that he needed to remain faithful and loyal, she lashed out and belittled him from every other corner. though he did deserve it for encouraging her into polygamy and bigamy and definitely by his demanding attitude(later in the note it mentions how he was a henpicker), she did not help his mental state in any capacity. petunia, the moment she didn’t help him anymore and show him the love he thought she promised him, became nothing more than someone who belittled him. truthfully nick never meant to hurt her, but it’s seen through his celebrity ideology that he truly believes in quantity over quality. a sad shame. nick’s mental state is so fucked he doesn’t even really know what true love is by this point. meaning he could potentially be easily manipulated without realization.

despite all this though, i found this to be especially intriguing:

a little hard to read, but this is during the scene before he fights the fans at the contest. his journal reads:

“They think I’m an IMPERSONATOR? Have I lost the Lightbearer aura? How much lower can I sink?”

this heavily implies that nick sets his own idolism over his chances of being a murderer. meaning that somewhere, deep in the crevasse of his subconscious, nick is so desperate for some true love and still can’t grasp hatred that he is clinging onto his persona for as much love as he can. even if it’s fake. thrice as intriguing when one learns that, during his breakdowns, he always explains how he wants his fans to know who he really is:

“i wonder if i remember how to sound polite,” “things are sure to look up once i’m not soaked in hemoglobin.”

an intelligent, young man who was so wrongly brought up into the world by an attached mother who never taught him what punishment really was. nick has been using his celebrity name as a clutch for so long that he’s having difficulty remembering who he really was, or if he can ever be norbert pickles again. he cannot handle being a celebrity, and he never could because of what his mother taught him and grew him to be. yet somewhere deep down, he knows his true self is there. but what nick doesn’t know how to do is accept the hatred of the world enough, especially to him, in order to ever take norbert pickles out.

it’s a constant mish-mash. he can hardly handle the hatred from being a celebrity, but what he does handle from stardom is what keeps him going with it. a war between nick lightbearer and norbert pickles. but neither side has proper ammo because the battlefield is strife with a lack of vegetation.

nick lightbearer in himself is an irony. he shines so bright for everyone around him but yet truly, the light is most needed for himself.

[empanator]

Despondent, Distracted

Preview: Her heartbeat drums steadily in your ear, and you are desperate for that to be comforting enough to soothe you to sleep. But, really, if she could just wake up right now and know what you are feeling... If you could feel less alone in the darkness… Pairing: Portia Devorak x MC/Apprentice (special appearances by Pepi)  Genre/Rating: Comfort/Safe for Work  Length: 2,296 words (~5 pages) 

Note: This was supposed to be a headcanon post for someone (you know who you are), but my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote a 2k fic. Oops. 

Portia fell fast asleep. And you thought you would, too, but the troubles in your mind have kept you waiting, patience and strength fading as the hours tick by. 

You turn yourself around under the thick comforter to find her face. Serene. Just barely aglow in the moonlight filtering through her curtains. Eyelids heavy with sleep conceal the sparkle of blue that you are used to. The softness of her gaze has a way of putting you at ease even in your darkest moments, but now, in the dead of night, her eyes cannot see the way yours squint and furrow with emotions you can’t quite think of a name for. Emotions you wish would subside for just long enough to allow slumber to find you. 

You shuffle closer to her, seeking out her warmth with your head on her chest. Riding on the rise and fall of her breathing, the motion gentle as if floating on calm waters, you close your eyes. Her heartbeat drums steadily in your ear, and you are desperate for that to be comforting enough to soothe you to sleep. But, really, if she could just wake up right now and know what you are feeling... If you could feel less alone in the darkness… Without thinking, your hand reaches up to her cheek, stroking a thumb against her freckled skin. She stirs a bit. Oh, no, no, don’t wake up, you think. You snatch your hand away, afraid to disturb her peace. Perhaps afraid to show her your silent struggle and cause her to worry.

As careful as you can, you slink out from under the covers, deciding it best to let Portia sleep. Summoning a dim ball of light, just barely bright enough to illuminate the way forward, you leave your side of the bed empty.

It’s quiet in the cottage. You light several candles with a snap of your fingers and sit at the dining table, watching the stillness of night just outside the window. Quiet out there, too. Suddenly, something clambers behind you, interrupting your thoughts with a soft prrt? Pepi, stretching her fuzzy little legs as her paws plod along the floor, approaches with what might be the closest thing to a smile that a cat can muster. Rising on her hind legs, she reaches up to swat at your thigh, waiting to be picked up. Peep!

“You want to be held, huh?” The legs of your chair scrape noisily against the floor as you make room for Pepi to lie in your lap. “I suppose that makes two of us.” You run your fingers through her fur, trying to let the droning sound of purring calm your mind.

A few long moments pass by before you hear another noise behind you. This time, when you look behind you, you see Portia leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed playfully. “Wow. Both of my favorite people left me to be cold all by myself?” She yawns and scratches her head, curls going in every direction. “And yes, Pepi is a person, don’t try to combat me on that.”

Still looking over your shoulder at her, you force a smile. A weary, obviously fake smile. There’s no way she could ever buy that look, though. Portia knows you well enough to see past any façade you may try to put up. She sighs and uncrosses her arms, twiddling her fingers together.

“You know… you don’t have to put on a brave face for me.” She approaches and rests a hand on your shoulder. “I can tell when you’re not okay. Do you wanna talk about it?”

You look away, unsure of how to really answer her question. Sure, you could talk about it, but how do you talk about feelings you can’t explain? You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, only a broken “uhm” accompanied by a shrug.

“Do I need to beat anybody up? ‘Cause you know I will for you.” She pounds a fist into her open palm. Always a go-getter, her spunk cracks a smile out of you. But this time, the smile is genuine. Even though it’s small, at least it’s real. She looks satisfied with this accomplishment.

“No, Portia, it’s nothing like that.” You sigh and look down at the table. While you’re still at a loss for anything constructive to say, Portia doesn’t miss a beat. She’s already bustling around the kitchen, the clinking of ceramic and metal meeting your ears before her voice does again.

“I’m making tea. What kind do you want?”

In no time, the kettle whistles, and your choice of tea appears in front of you. She prepared it exactly how you like it and poured it into your favorite mug. You offer your hushed thanks, and she presses her lips to your temple in response.

Portia joins you across the table with her own mug, casting a long glance out the window to see what you’ve been watching. “Not much happening out there at this time of night.” She’s trying her hardest to make you feel comfortable—to make you feel like a regular human again. Just having her up and in the same space as you eases some of the anxiety you’ve built up, quelling the inexplicable loneliness in your heart. But it’s admittedly better to know that she’s so attentive and patient with your emotions.

“Yeah, well… I didn’t know what else to do this late.” You shrug again. You both fall quiet for a while, sipping your teas and looking at the nothingness outside. The silence isn’t awkward, but it isn’t comfortable either. She knows you’re not okay and wants to help you, but it’s clear you don’t have much to say.

“So,” Portia eases back into an attempt at conversation. “Come here often?” She waggles an eyebrow at you, grinning mischievously. You throw a sarcastic scoff her way, and you can’t help but feel a little joy tugging at the corners of your mouth. “There’s my favorite smile! Come on, no need to hide it!” She reaches across the table to hold your hand. “Just like how you don’t need to hide from me. How long have you been awake?”

You let out a strained breath. “Uh… all night? I never actually went to sleep.” Without meaning to, your grip on her hand becomes tighter, words swirling around your brain and beginning to flow out. “Sometimes, it’s like I can’t turn off my brain, you know? All of these negative thoughts and missing memories—even when I’m not thinking of anything and there’s that feeling of dread looming in the back of my mind and I just feel so alone and—”

As hard as you’ve been trying to fight your anxiety, and as much as it helps to have Portia with you and finally aware of how you’re feeling, tears begin to sting in your tired eyes. You barely suppress them for a moment before Portia springs up from her chair, immediacy in her steps until she is firmly at your side once more. She cups your face and sweeps away the few tears that roll down your cheek. “Hey. I’m here.” You feel her lips, soft, light against your head, a kiss to remedy the part of you that is hurting. “I’m here. You aren’t alone now. And you never have to be, okay?” She moves her hands to your shoulders and rubs them reassuringly. “Is there a reason you didn’t wake me up?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You deserve to sleep and not be bothered.” 

Stunned to silence, it seems, she knits her brow briefly before clearing any trace of shock from her face, instead replacing it with concern. “Well... so do you.” You search her eyes, the words baffling you and not quite clicking in your mind. “Don’t ever think your troubles aren’t worth expressing. I would rather stay awake with you than let you be scared and alone.”

Pepi, who had been asleep in your lap until now, pipes up with a tiny squeak.

“You’re absolutely right, Pepi,” Portia declares. “Even this precious angel will be here for you if you need her. Isn’t that right, Pepi?” She bends down to scratch her fuzzy chin and turns her attention back to you. “Want me to scratch your chin, too?” She reaches for you, and you let yourself giggle at the tickling touch. “Come, let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah… That sounds li—” A yawn cuts your sentence short, a little bit to your embarrassment. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Pepi hops down as Portia extends her hand to you, offering a slight tug to get your sleep-deprived form out of the chair. She guides you to the open doorway and gestures with a short bow. “After you.” She almost follows you in, but stops in her tracks. “Oh! Just a second; I need to blow out those candles. Get comfy, okay?”

You sink into the bed, draping the covers over you as Pepi curls up at your side. One by one, the glow from each flame is extinguished, making the room darker and darker. Portia’s footsteps approach soon after, but with no light in the cottage, she bumps into the wall with an Oof!

“Portia??? Here, I can—” As you scramble to try to sit up and summon a new ball of light for her, she bangs her knee into a dresser.

“No, you need to rest! I’ve got this!” She continues bumping into things, the thudding of wood interspersed with bilingual curses under her breath before she finally finds the bed. Flopping face-first onto the mattress, she breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. I’m back. In one piece.”

As silly as she is, the weight of your rapidly compounding physical and mental exhaustion prevent your smile from growing too wide. You lie flat on your back and stare up at the ceiling. The bed shifts beside you, jostling you and Pepi a bit as Portia crawls her way on top of you. She straddles your hips, arms bracketing yours.

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Uh… hi.”

“I’ve heard that pressure and heavy blankets can help people feel more secure.” Pepi perches on her back, her little face looking down at you over Portia’s shoulder. They both share a feline smirk as they watch you adjust to the situation. “Is it working?”

“It’s definitely… distracting,” you admit.

“Hm. Not good enough!” She rolls off of you and onto her side so as not to squish Pepi, who relocates to your other side. “Would you like it if I rubbed your back instead?”

With your assent, you turn towards the wall to give her the space she needs to work with. She wraps her arms around your stomach to press herself closer to you. She nuzzles her face behind your neck and strokes her nose against your skin before softly kissing it. Her hands—warm, gentle when they need to be—find the center of your back and travel outwards, down, up, in again, varying in intensity from deep rubs with the heel of her hand to air-like brushes of her fingertips. It does not take any effort to get your muscles to relax, as Portia is doing all the work for you. Her touch melts away the stress in your body, replacing it with the love and tranquility you sorely missed. How long have your eyes been closed? You do not remember shutting them, but perhaps that’s a good sign.

After a while, Portia must assume that you’ve fallen asleep because she slows and then stops her motions against your back, reaching in front of you to hold your hand. You startle a small noise out of her when you squeeze her hand back.

“Still awake?”

Voice groggy, you manage a response. “Technically. But I’m feeling a lot better than when you found me.”

“I’m glad.” She returns her face to where it was nuzzled before, her eyelashes fluttering on your skin when she blinks. “How about I sing you a song?”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Let’s see…” She hums, going through the library of music in her head before choosing one. “Oh! This one should be perfect. So, you know about Maz’s magic soup already—the one that can make even Volta relax?” You nod, remembering your visit to the Procurator’s estate.

“Well, when I was a little kid, I sometimes lay awake at night after the soup wore off. Lilinka always seemed to know when I would need her, though, and she’d sit at the edge of my bed, singing Nevivon’s traditional lullabies until I fell asleep. You know,” she tightens her arms around you and sighs. “I had a lot of anxiety back then, too. I was too young to remember my family or the shipwreck, but it must have left a bad imprint in my head anyway… enough to have made me constantly worried. Scared. Unsure of where the fear was coming from. I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re feeling, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.” She kisses the back of your neck. “Even in the middle of the night. Okay?”

“…Thank you, Portia.”

“Of course. Are you ready? This lullaby is the longest one I know, so I guarantee you’ll be asleep before I’m done.”

“If I’m not, will I get my money back?” You can’t see her, but you just know she’s rolling her eyes.

But she was right. You didn’t get to hear the end of the lullaby. Neither of you knew when it happened, but slumber had found you, safe between Portia’s arms and a purring Pepi.

[astraseason]

after the time loop -- as suggested by @obsidiantias!

hoo boy.

araceli has no idea what she wants to do with her life once she finally has a choice. honestly, she didn’t think she’d get this far to begin with.

going under a cut for length! warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation, i guess?

araceli simply tells him that it’s okay. that he doesn’t need to be afraid. that he can rest now. that he doesn’t need to hate anyone or curse the world anymore. he is not alone. she is here with him. it’s okay. he’ll get to be with mother again soon, and all will be well.

to those beyond the barrier who can hear her, it sounds like the princess is being incredibly kind to the deranged dragon in his final moments; that she’s attempting to soothe him so that his final moments are ones of peace. they’re right, but what they don’t know is that araceli has every intention of dying with the dragon. she is his daughter, after all. someday, the madness that ripped his formidable mind to shreds will grip her, and all will be lost. it cannot be allowed to happen. ( and to the young woman’s tortured mind, this is what she deserves for all the blood on her hands. )

when anankos’ heart falls he throws everything he has into one desperate final attack and manages to cut araceli deeply, drawing blood. she staggers her way to a rather large bit of debris and collapses behind it, content to let herself pass away unnoticed as the group celebrates their victory. the cycle is broken. the bond between nohr and hoshido can grow, and their enmity is a thing of the past. aqua is still alive and well, and free to pursue whatever life she wants without fear of her song stealing her life away.

araceli is happy with this, she thinks. this is a good note to go out on. they’ll forget her. they’ll heal. it’ll be for the better.

unfortunately for araceli, life doesn’t work like that. someone eventually notices she is missing from the crowd after the barrier dissipates, and goes searching. she is found and brought back to camp and nursed back to health. araceli is confused by this, but lets them assume she was simply hurt in the battle.

what comes next depends on many factors, honestly.

depending on whom i’m writing with, aqua will ascend the throne of valla as it is her birthright; the two women are cousins, but it was aqua’s mother arete that was the queen. araceli spends her days lost and listless now that the sole thing that has defined her life for the past three hundred years has been stripped away from her. she doesn’t know how to approach either family, her frustration and outbursts having placed a lot of distance between them for the most part. i mean, she’s all but cut xander off entirely at this point, and to turn around and try to patch things up is... intimidating, especially when she’d declared that she doesn’t care if any of them hate her anymore.

she wants to leave, honestly. she wants to vanish through the dragon’s gate and venture into parts unknown to be eventually forgotten by all in fateslandia who know her. the sole thing that keeps her from leaving is aqua and a burning desire to both make her happy and to atone for all the suffering she has needlessly been put through.

if aqua is not approached, the role of queen goes to araceli. she does not want to be queen of a dead land, thinking it better to let valla die since there is so little left, but she knows the alternative is that aqua must do it. aqua, who suffered far worse that she had. aqua, who didn’t complain once through every hardship, every death she suffered because of araceli’s mistakes and eventual apathy. aqua who is finally free to live whatever life she pleases.

aqua must have that freedom, she decides, and reluctantly agrees to take the throne. it’s what’s expected of her, and if she’s to live, she must do what will keep the peace. she will bend to the two kingdom’s whims, as she has for the past three hundred years. what she wants does not matter. all that matters is that peace is maintained between xander and ryouma, and if she must be the eternal mediator, so be it.

( if araceli is in a relationship with laslow, odin, or selena, they will convince her to return to ylisse with them rather than stay in fateslandia and be miserable. after some hesitation she will accept the invitation and leave fateslandia altogether. while it is a difficult and long process, araceli will begin to heal. it will take time, but she will live a very happy and fulfilling life in ylisse. )

in the days approaching one of the vallite princesses’ coronation, one of many strange occurrences may happen.

in the case of araceli’s elibe verse, she hears stories of strange activity at the dragon’s gate and offers to investigate. she winds up dragged into the dread isle in place of the fire dragon nergal pulls through elibe’s gate and rescued by the lord trio’s army. wanting to thank them for their help, she will help them stop nergal. having fallen utterly in love with elibe, she decides to stay and begin a new life-- returning home only to apologize and explain the situation. depending on the partner, she will either settle in arcadia or marry eliwood, becoming roy’s mother. depending on the path in life taken, she will either join roy’s army alongside igrene twenty years later or be busy covering for eliwood while he is ill. as with the awakening trio, it is a difficult path, but the new faces and the new surroundings allow her to finally heal from her experiences.

in the case of a heroes verse, araceli is either summoned by askr’s summoner or forced into an emblian contract. ( and if the latter, she will pull a xander and decide to stay in embla even when it is broken, for veronica’s sake. ) as with most ‘new land’ endings, the change of scenery and meeting new people is good for her! honestly this could go so many different ways depending on who she meets, but she may ultimately elect to stay in zenith and start over there.

depending on if a certain knight decides he wants to travel again and leave fateslandia behind now that the conflict is over and done with, she may also be talked into joining him. ;)

...so as you can see, leaving the land that inflicted so much trauma upon her behind is ultimately the best case scenario for araceli. while she’s perfectly capable of healing and leading a fulfilling life in fateslandia, it takes much longer for her to recover as she has so many expectations placed upon her -- including ones by herself -- and duties and an almost obsessive need to atone for her ‘sins’ somehow and make aqua happy. what she needs is to do something selfish, but she doesn’t believe she deserves it; the people around her do, of course, but not her.

this poem from higurashi no naku koro ni’s matsuribayashi-hen sums it up best:

everyone has a right to pursue a happy life.

the difficult part is to be given that right.

everyone has a right to pursue a happy life.

the difficult part is to fulfill that right.

i too have a right to pursue a happy life.

the difficult part is to work out a compromise for that right.

.                                                                                -- frederica bernkastel

regardless of path chosen, be it queen or newlywed newcomer or wandering swordswoman, araceli will at one point cut her hair to about a bob’s length. she decides this on a whim one day, deciding to let her hair being cut end this chapter of her life. she will grow it out again over time, but this decision, this very permanent decision, is very important to her. it’s making a statement that she really, truly is putting the past behind her, no matter where she may be in her life.

[slightly-nerdy-rambles]

Robstarweek Day 7: The Warrior’s Spirit (Prompt: Jewel)

And here it is, my last entry for this year’s Robstar Week. Knowing me, it was kind of inevitable that one of these would end up turning into a big headcanon dump, whoops. I’ve had a lot of fun writing for this week and seeing what everyone else writes, and I’m looking forward to next year!

A quick note before we begin: I am aware that, in the original comics, some of Starfire’s powers are the result of alien experimentation. However, the headcanons set forth by this story are derived directly from what we see in the cartoon, which seems to indicate that her powers in that universe are all inborn.

The Warrior’s Spirit

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Starfire turned her head to look at Robin. The two of them were in the park, laying on a hill to watch the lazy clouds drift by in the afternoon sun.

“What do you wish to know?” she asked.

Robin glanced back to her. “It’s about your outfit. I guess I never really thought about it before, but when we went to Tamaran last week, just about everyone was wearing something like it. Do the colors mean something special?”

Starfire pushed herself upright and looked down at the deep purple and shining silver of her now-iconic uniform. “It is palace wear,” she explained. “The purple is meant to reflect the color of Tamaran’s sky. It symbolizes flight for my people.”

She returned her gaze back up to the soft, pale blue of Earth’s own sky. “With a few exceptions, those who live in the capital wear this color during special occasions to remind them of their duty in lifting our people up.”

Robin gave her a long look, and she saw the ghost of a frown appear on his face. “It… kind of looked like the royal family was one of those exceptions,” he noted. “You were wearing black when we first met, and Blackfire wore it a lot too. Any reason you changed?”

Starfire let her expression fall. “I did not wish to be judged as a royal,” she replied truthfully. “Only as a warrior who still cares about and honors her people. Things were… complicated, when I first came to Earth.”

Robin didn’t say anything for a long moment, but though she had turned away, she could feel his eyes on her. Finally, he spoke up again.

“Okay then. What about the green jewels?”

Starfire smiled a little at that. It was hardly his best attempt at changing subjects, but she appreciated the sentiment. She let herself flop back onto the grass, looked back at him and wordlessly conjured a starbolt.

Robin blinked up at the glowing energy orb. “The jewels stand for starbolts?” he asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. “I wasn’t expecting something so… literal.”

Starfire giggled and extinguished the bolt. “Not precisely,” she admitted. “Most Tamaraneans cannot form full starbolts – it takes a deal of skill, and many years of study and practice, to generate enough power to use them at range. But the stellar energy from which they are formed is connected.”

To demonstrate, she raised her hand again and focused her will into a weaker form of the energy – just enough for her palm to glow a bright green. Robin raised up onto his side, propping himself on one elbow as he looked on in fascination.

It was sweet how much interest he showed in Tamaranean affairs, even if he often had difficulty connecting with her culture. It was the same way she felt about Earth, although now that she had lived here for some time, she was beginning to get a better grasp on the planet’s ways. She flashed another smile at him.

“Like the purple of Tamaran’s sky, the green color most commonly seen in our stellar energy takes on a special meaning. It is protection, of our home and families and way of life.”

Almost absently, she focused a little more of her battle fury into the energy over her palm until it grew into another brilliant starbolt. As she continued her lesson, she raised her other hand and played the fingers of both around the edges of the energy orb.

“Legend says that the goddess X’hal put a little of her warrior’s spirit into each of her people, and that it is the source of our power and our pride alike. That is why we adorn ourselves with the green jewels – to remind ourselves of who we are and what we are capable of. I suppose that, in a way, they are our own warrior’s spirit.”

Robin offered her a little half-smile. “That’s really cool.”

He was giving her that look again – that sweet little admiring look that made her heart beat just a little bit faster. It was one of the things she cherished about him – that he showed her she was admired, cared for, appreciated. It had been so hard to feel that way back at the beginning, when she felt so lost and out of place, like she didn’t truly belong. But he had always been there for her.

The trip to Tamaran was something she’d needed, she figured. It had gotten her to seriously consider what life she wanted and needed to lead, not because of what she’d been groomed for or because the threat of war had forced her to stay away from that for a time. And shameful as the thought was, seeing her Earthen friends react with a familiar strain of confusion to Tamaranean customs had proven that her early struggles on their planet had not been so foolish or strange.

…Robin had been so desperate not to lose her. She idly traced a finger around the green jewel on her gauntlet as she considered that. He was quite the warrior in his own right. He would make a fine Tamaranean.

…Why had she just thought that?

Robin frowned again when she suddenly blushed and looked away at the realization of where her mind was wandering. “You okay?” he asked.

“I am fine,” Starfire replied, trying to fight down the red in her cheeks. “It is merely… an embarrassing recollection. I had been thinking of our trip, and I happened to recall of some of Tamaran’s marriage customs.”

[decorous-biohazart]

Answer Me

Trona Quicksilver flashback to her youth for my sub-blog @the-science-of-stories. 

Headcanon for this story: 

-Trona severely despises Necromancers because she dabbled in Necromancy when she lost her village in a disillusional plight to bring them back. She discovered that this magic does not return loved ones, but rather is a tool for manipulating the dead; an act she considers the highest disrespect for the deceased.

More Stories

“How many did we lose?” 

“Couple dozen, ma’am. There wasn’t much left for identification.” a male voice responded.

“What about Trona?” 

“In the other room, my lady.”  a female voice answered. 

Echoing off the stone walls of a stronghold were the voices of three figures. Two clad in armor and uniforms synonymous to the group known as the Harpers, a semi-secret organization intent on the balance between humanity and nature as well as the promotion of good and safety in Faerun. There was a burley male Dwarf and a toned female Elf. 

Before the two guards stood a human woman, towering just above 6 feet with long silver hair. Her gaze was firm and demanding, but her voice was gentle yet commanding. A comforting tone that made whoever spoke to her feel cared for and protected. 

She was astonishingly beautiful, her lean figure clad in leather armor with a sword on one hip and a flute on the other. Anyone who knew the Harpers would recognize her as Storm Silverhand, also known as ‘The Bard of Shadowdale’ and one of the Seven immortal Sisters who were chosen by the goddess Mystra.

“I will speak with her, secure the perimeter. No one else comes into the holding cells without my clearance.” 

“Yes, my lady!” the guards said in unison with a firm salute before they trotted down the hallway to complete their orders. 

For a moment Storm stood in silence, only the crackling of the torches lining the walls offering sound over her thoughts. 

She raised her head and breathed deep through her nose before she stepped forward to a wooden door and pushed it open. 

Immediately the sound of footsteps approached the door as she opened it and was met with the long beak of a Plague Doctor mask just inches from her own. 

Inside was a high set window, a bed in the corner, papers strewn across a desk with an oil lamp as well as across the walls, an Alchemy station and the figure before Storm. It was a woman, clad in tattered Plague Doctor robes and bandages across her wrists and ankles. 

“Lady Silverhand!” the woman greeted quickly in surprise, taking a step back and bowing low in apology. “I... Never expected to see you here.”

Storm watched the woman she referred to as Trona for a moment, clearly able to distinguish the fatigue and fear in the young girl’s voice despite how hard she tried to hide it. Judging by her figure, to an outsider she couldn’t have been older than 16. 

“Hello, Trona. It’s good to see you, dear.” the Sister responded with a gentle smile as she shut the door before placing a tender hand on Trona’s shoulder, causing her to raise her mask and hood clad head a couple inches. 

“You... Came because you heard what I had done.” Trona observed sheepishly, her ability to observe clear despite having no details on Silver’s arrival. 

She was a woman renowned for her compassion for her subjects, and it was always likely she’d appear in times like this. 

“Are you here to punish me?” Trona asked, more curiosity in her voice than fear. 

“No I-... No, Trona.” Storm stammered, clearly nervous she was perceived as a threat by the young girl. “I am just here to get all the details and make sure you’re alright. Your outburst, from what the others said, it was unlike you. You are a young Alchemist who has always had a knack for professionalism, but according to the healer that saw to you you had something akin to a panic attack” 

Trona raised her head to look her superior in the eye, but did not answer. 

“Come,” Storm beckoned, slipping passed Trona as she gently took her hand and led her to the bed to sit before she took a seat across from the concealed girl in the desk chair, “Sit with me for a moment, and tell me everything you remember.” 

It took Trona a moment of silence before she answered, her thoughts and memories hanging in the air like a thick smoke. 

                                                                                               -1 Hour Earlier- 

“WHERE IS HE!?” A voice yelled, a small female voice that boomed with desperation. 

In the stone halls of the stronghold a small silhouette akin to a bird sped through the halls with boots thunking against the floor at a rapid pace as she ran. The clattering of armor as guards pursued not far behind her. 

Her lungs burned as they struggled for air in the tight quarters of the castle, feeling as if the very stone was absorbing the oxygen out of the air. But her head buzzed with thoughts like an itch that she could not sate without answers. 

Eventually she reached a barred metal door, instinct taking control of her limbs as she pushed with almost inhuman strength for her size to push the door open. 

“Trona, no! Don’t go in there!” A female guard called. 

But she did not listen, and within moments she had the door open and stood in awed silence as she stared at what she found inside. 

Across from her, in a single chair in the center of the room, was a lone figure of a male Drow slumped over in a chair. 

Then her mind went silent, a signal that she found who she was looking for. 

Dashing forward with reckless abandon, Trona’s gloved hands took hold of the mans collar and began shaking him violently. 

“How did you do it!? Answer me!” she demanded, her voice almost at the level of screaming as it cracked under the stress. 

The Drow lifted his head, his eyes closed and jaw slack as if he were asleep. Then suddenly his eyes creaked open and stared at the Alchemist with two piercing green irises. His lips twitched with very faint gasps that almost sounded like laughter before they stretched unnaturally wide with a grim smile; his teeth cracking as they formed into sharp fangs and a feral growl rose from his throat. 

Trona gasped and stumbled backwards just as the teeth snapped at where her neck had been just a moment before. 

The sound of a bowstring snapped as an arrow whistled as it was loosed through the air and burrowed into the eye socket of the Drow prisoner. His head slacked forward, face frozen in a look of feral anger and shock as black blood dripped from his maw. 

Trona had stumbled to the floor as the arrow flew, her hands shaking in fear as a desperate ‘No!’ escaped her mouth. 

Suddenly a pair of burly and strong hands were holding her shoulders as a Dwarven male, standing at even height with Trona from where she sat.

“Trona, Trona! Look at me, gal, look at me!” he demanded, trying to quell her panic. 

Small and quick gasps left Trona’s mouth beneath her covered face as her entire body shook as the Dwarf demanded her attention. Her gaze slid upwards as she saw a Half-Elf woman with a fresh arrow in her crossbow that she now had aimed at the body of the Drow. 

“Say somethin’, Trona.” The Dwarf requested, his tone softer as Trona scrambled to her feet and bolted out the door. “’Ey, wait!” he called after her. 

“Let her go.” the half-elf said with a sigh as she lowered her crossbow, “she’s headed right for the medical bay. She’s living over there right now, she’s bound to run into Keerla.” 

The Dwarf huffed with a shake of his head as his eyes looked back to the now deceased prisoner. 

“Dammit, gal...” he muttered. 

                                        -Present Time-

“That’s when I was found in the hallway by Keerla, and then... I woke up here in my quarters.” Trona finished, her hands sheepishly placed in her lap as she struggled to meet Silver’s eyes. 

The human Bard nodded understandingly, her hands elegantly layered in her lap as she listened to the girl’s story. 

“Keerla had to sedate you, she said you were frantic.” the immortal explained. Keerla was the Elvish healer in the stronghold that had taken Trona in as an apprentice. “What happened in there, Trona? What made you go in there knowing the danger?” 

Trona was quiet again, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she’d find her answer among the floor tiles. 

“He... He was a Necromancer.” Trona eventually answered, shame in her voice. 

“Yes, yes he was.” Storm affirmed, prompting her to go on. 

“I thought-” Trona’s voice caught in her throat as her head shot up and she forced the reply from her mind. “- I thought he could show me how! How to use it differently!” 

Silverhand’s expression turned to that of sorrow, already understanding what Trona meant by the words. 

Just hours ago, the Drow had launched an attack with Necrotic magic on a nearby settlement. Trona was told to remain behind due to the danger, but when they returned with the Necromancer in custody she demanded to get to speak to him. Instead she was met with the transformed, primal nature of the prisoner as she attempted to shape-shift and break out; nearly costing the Alchemist her life. 

“Trona... You saw what Necromancy can do, what it is created for. It is a dark magic that consumes your very being-” Storm began. 

“But that can’t be all there is!” Trona interjected, “There is a good and evil side to every magic!” she argued. 

“Yes,” Storm replied, her patience as resilient as iron, “But that other side to Necromancy comes at a cost as well.” 

“I-I... I had to try.” Trona whimpered, her voice wavering. 

“I know, dear... I know.” Storm said in a comforting tone as she wrapped her arms around the girl, pressing her head to her chest. “I know what it’s like to lose family. When Syluné perished to that red dragon and then having seen her spirit destroyed I had many similar thoughts. Wanted to barter with Mystra to bring her back, but...” Her eyes closed for a moment, “... But I knew she was gone, and that was the way it had to be.

“Necromancy is a dangerous magic, and even the most adept cannot return a soul back to a body without severe consequence, and even then they will never be what they were. To challenge death after it has claimed a life is to risk it taking you, as well.”

For what felt like hours there was no answer from Trona, her shattered heart taking any words from her. Eventually, she seemed to have finally drifted off in Silver’s embrace and she left the girl to rest and recover from her injuries. 

However, the peace did not last. 

Just a few hours after the exchange, Storm arrived back in the medical wing when she was informed by an alert sent out to the guards that a book that was confiscated from the Necromancer had vanished. 

What could only be intuition told Storm to find Keerla. 

When she entered the potion maker’s lab she found the dark-haired Elvish woman working frantically with two Cleric’s as a bright light shined from a bed hidden by their bodies. 

“What happened-?” Storm asked as she approached, panic in her voice before she stopped with a gasp as a hand shot to her mouth. 

On the bed before them, laid out with eyes wide open in shock was Trona. Her white hair spilled out over her features and shoulders as her right arm rested in Keerla’s palms as the two Clerics performed a ritual that Silver recognized as Dispel Magic. 

Trona’s bare arm radiated with Necrotic energy as black tendrils snaked over her skin, barely held at bay by the full force of the two Clerics. 

“Lady Silverhand.” Keerla said, her voice somber. 

“What happened?” The Sister asked, her voice that of a heartbroken spectator. 

Keerla wore an expression of sorrow on her thin face as she turned her head to look back to her apprentice. 

“She has been in this state for a few minutes now. She sneaked out of her room passed the guards and raided the confiscated materials from the attack. As soon as she grabbed the Necromancer’s spellbook some sort of spell initiated as a defense-mechanism and...” she trailed off, the condition of the young Alchemist clear as the consequences. 

“L-L-Lady S-S-Silverhand...” Trona stammered as Keerla gently shushed her. 

“Save your strength, Trona.” her mentor requested gingerly, but she disobeyed. 

“I-I-I’m... S-S-Sorry...” 

What Storm had been afraid of from the beginning had become truth. Trona had sought Necromancy after having been exposed to its power believing it would answer her prayers to bring her village back. 

She had not only suffered the agony of the consequences, but the crushing reality that she had no options left to see her home returned.

[chocolatequeennk]

To Make Much of Time recap

In the last four days before Forever and Never Apart begins, I’m going to do recap posts of each of the four main works in the series so far. Hopefully they’ll make you smile if you know the story, and possibly intrigue you if you haven’t read them. Each post will have a handful of crucial moments from the story, with a brief line of commentary on each scene about why it’s important to the series.

To Make Much of Time

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Summary: The Doctor thought he’d removed all traces of the Vortex from Rose, but there was still something of the Wolf about her. What would have changed if he’d been forced to face that–and if Rose had understood what she was becoming? Ten x Rose series 2 canon divergence and Doomsday fixit.

From chapter 2:

Once again, he saw himself kiss Rose. Then, as he laid her down on the floor, he noticed something he had failed to catch the first time around.

Rose wasn’t breathing.

The Doctor’s hearts stopped, and he stumbled over to an arm chair and sat down.

I am curious, Time Lord. You were the one who lowered her body to the floor. How did you fail to notice that she had died?

I was dying myself, he defended hotly.

And it didn’t occur to you that if the Vortex had killed you after only a minute, it must have killed a mere human? Rose Tyler held the Vortex within her for at least ten times the length of time you did.

The obviousness of it sank in. Of course the Vortex killed Rose. How could he have missed it? He groaned and tipped his head back, staring up at the blue ceiling.

Who are you?

I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself, and I cannot be uncreated.

This is one of my chief headcanons, and one of the reasons I believe so strongly in Bad Wolf!Rose. She should have died, and yet she didn’t. Eventually in this story, we learn that Rose’s biology was permanently altered during her time as Bad Wolf. 

From chapter 3:

“But the TARDIS, she only communicates telepathically. So when you were Bad Wolf, together, she—or maybe the two of you, using the Vortex—strengthened those neural pathways. That’s how she could tell you how to fly her.”

Rose connected the dots. “The hum is the TARDIS.”

“Yep.”

“I can hear a ship that only communicates telepathically.”

“Yep.”

“Doctor, am I telepathic?”

“You are now, thanks to my interfering ship.”

From chapter 7: 

“Rose, have you had any headaches, nausea, any discomfort since we learned about your telepathy?”

“No—well, except for the other night, when we were working on barriers.”

“That’s… that’s not… you should…” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

Rose raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Are you saying you want me to be sick?”

“Of course not, but Rose, developing the telepathic circuits of the brain is not a comfortable experience! You should at least be getting headaches. We all got headaches.”

The TARDIS hummed in the back of his mind, but he ignored her. He needed to figure this out.

“D’you think the TARDIS is helping?” Rose suggested.

[...]

The Doctor felt his ship’s confirmation and Rose’s answering gratitude, and a rock lodged itself in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, this is bad. This is… this is bad.”

“What’s so bad about it?”

“Well, I might have just realised why our attempts at blocking emotions gave you a headache.”

The Doctor glanced over at Rose, hoping she was already following along with what he was saying, but the little furrow in her brow told him he’d have to explain further.

“What’s that got to do with this?”

“Time Lords are bonded to their TARDISes, Rose. We call it a telepathic link, but really it’s more empathic.”

“Yeah, that’s why she couldn’t translate when you were sick, right?”

He nodded, rubbing at his temples. “And if she’s in your mind all the time, keeping you from getting sick, then you and I are already connected on a shallow level, just like I’m connected to her.”

[...]

“I still don’t quite get why this is bad.”

“My connection with her, and yours too I’d guess, they always stay open. She needs mine to function—hence the translation matrix not working, as you pointed out. And you… you need yours to hold the pain at bay.” His head dropped to the back of his chair and glared up at his interfering ship. “So we’re both constantly connected to the same TARDIS. It’s like a three-way conference call.”

The Doctor finally felt a hint of understanding from Rose. “A three-way conference call we can’t hang up on.”

“Exactly.”

“Guess you’ll just have to learn not to react to things emotionally,” Rose told him cheekily.

The Doctor tried to tamp down his anxiety. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he offered. “If I’d known this would happen, I never…”

“You never what?” she asked. “Never would have offered to go into my mind? Because we both know that’s why all this is happening. If you hadn’t looked to make sure the effects of Bad Wolf were still contained, I never…”

“Never would have fully developed your telepathic abilities,” he finished.

These two scenes together form another cornerstone of To Make Much of Time. Rose is telepathic, and because of the way that telepathy happened, she and the Doctor have a permanent empathic connection--they can sense each other’s emotions. And of course, for two people who are trying to pretend they aren’t in love, losing the ability to hide how they’re feeling has serious repercussions. 

From chapter 16:

The words, “What you mean to me,” hung in the air, understood by both. “I said you could spend the rest of your life with me,” he said instead.

Rose laughed harshly. “Right, and you’ve been pulling back ever since. You even sent me to make tea so you could get rid of me after you got back from France.” She felt his guilt and knew she’d been right that night. “How was I supposed to know you didn’t regret that promise? Maybe you want to get rid of me. Maybe I should just stay here.”

The Doctor’s white hot agony took her by surprise, and she drew in a quick breath. “It’s not what I want,” she quickly continued, “but all this time, I’ve been keeping quiet because I was afraid you’d leave me behind if I said anything. Well, now I know I can take it if you do, so we’re going to talk. What do you need so desperately that you couldn’t even stay put for one night, Doctor?”

She could feel the fear and panic swirling within the Doctor as he struggled to answer her question. Before, she would have rushed to ease the awkward silence, not wanting the Doctor to feel pressured. Today, she calmly fixed both his tea and hers to their liking and then sat down across from him to wait.

“Distance,” he finally whispered. “You’re… you’re always there. You can see… I can’t hide from you, not in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

Rose handed him his cup and leaned against the cabinets. “You feel naked, exposed, like the deepest parts of yourself don’t belong just to you anymore?”

He started. “How did you… Oh.”

“Finally catching on, are we? And I thought Time Lords were supposed to have such big brains.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I never thought… didn’t realise…”

“We both know there’s something here that… that you’re not ready to talk about yet,” she said, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to be clear, but she didn’t want him to panic again. The Doctor’s chair squeaked a little as he shifted around, and Rose smiled at him. “I’m not gonna insist you do, or push the issue. I…” She bit her lip, then decided to put all her cards on the table. “I wanna be with you, Doctor, but not until you’re ready.”

Serious repercussions, such as the Doctor constantly pulling back from Rose. Rose eventually lays into him for it, after he accidentally leaves her in London for a day because he couldn’t just sit still. They form a tentative truce here, but it takes time for her to trust him again.

From chapter 22:

The Doctor stayed in the control room for a few minutes, wondering what exactly the night would hold. Before Krop Tor, Rose had still held him slightly at a distance. Maybe she finally trusted him again.

He stopped in his room to change into a pair of pyjama bottoms. He debated the vest for a moment and finally opted to leave it on.

Rose’s door was open a crack and he pushed through. She was already lying down on the far side of the bed, laying on her side facing away from him. He hesitated for a moment, but the covers on the near side of the bed were flipped up in invitation, so he slid in beside her.

He heard her exhalation and knew she hadn’t been certain he’d come. He looked over at her back. He couldn’t see her face, but he needed…

The Doctor rolled onto his side and pulled Rose close so her backside was flush with his front. She took his hand and kissed his palm, and he nuzzled into her neck. “We made it,” he whispered.

“Yeah, we did. We’re home.”

The moment wasn’t anything like he’d expected, but it was still perfect. “I love you.”

Rose sighed and turned over to snuggle into his side. She pressed a kiss to his jaw, then whispered in his ear, “I love you too, my Doctor.”

From chapter 28:

The Doctor stared at a spot over her shoulder. “We’ll form a telepathic connection, like we have the few times we’ve talked. Then I’ll ask you to bond with me. If you accept, the provisional bond is formed.”

Rose frowned. “Not if, Doctor,” she said firmly. “When. When I accept.”

His eyes met hers, and she could see the fear and wonder he was projecting over their empathic connection. “May I?” he asked, lifting his hand to her temple. She nodded. “You too, Rose,” he added, bringing her left hand up to his right temple.

They both sighed when the contact was formed, and Rose felt a sense of relief from the Doctor, like he’d been aching for this. You’ve been lonely for too long, Doctor, she told him.

I’d never been alone in my head before, not really. It was the worst part of the War. He gently redirected their conversation. But we aren’t here to talk about that.

The Doctor in Rose’s mind closed his eyes, and a moment later, they were standing in the canyon again. How’d you do that?

Inside your mind, you can be anywhere you want to be. He shifted so they were standing side by side holding hands again, clasped palm to palm with their fingers laced together. The Medusa Cascade was invisible, but Rose could still see the possibilities swirling in the air.

His fingers tightened in hers, and she glanced up at his face. How long are you going to stay with me?

Rose’s heart sped up. This was him, asking. She felt her own timeline and saw only one path forward. There was no universe in which she wouldn’t want the Doctor. Forever, she told him, never more sure of anything in her life.

The word carried the weight of authority, and they both shivered as it settled into their timelines, forming the provisional bond that would begin to tie their minds together. By mutual consent, they removed their fingers from each other’s temples, leaving the telepathic connection behind.

The first I love you, followed not long after by the formation of a telepathic bond. At this point, the Doctor and Rose are what we would consider engaged. 

From chapter 37/38:

The Doctor focused on the bond, opening himself up to it so she could feel how much he loved her. Her answering love and sorrow reverberated back to him, then Pete hit the button on his hopper and they disappeared.

The suction slowly faded, and then for a few seconds he could actually see the breach weave itself back together before closing entirely. His bond with Rose pulled like it had before, but this time it tore completely, and he shuddered at the pain.

The Doctor’s breath came in heaving sobs. When his feet touched the ground again, he stared at the wall for a long moment, as if he could will Rose back into existence by focusing on the point from which she had disappeared. Then he walked toward it in a daze, not stopping until he was pressed against it, his hand splayed out flat.

The place in his mind where Rose was supposed to be was empty. His mind tried to reach across the Void to find her, but the breach was well and truly closed. There was nothing there; no answer from her, no brush of her warm, pink-gold mind against his. She was just gone, and the bone deep loss nearly brought him to his knees.

The emptiness in his head after the war had nearly driven him mad. Then he’d met Rose, and even before the Game Station, she’d filled some of the hollow places left by the loss of his people. Later, their empathic connection and bond had given him the telepathic communion he’d needed.

Losing her ripped open wounds that had barely begun to scab over. He stumbled back a few steps from the wall, his vision clouded. The TARDIS sang to him, and he turned around, letting her call him home.

The Doctor didn’t know how he made it back to the TARDIS; everything from the moment he’d walked away from the white wall—away from Rose—was a blur. But here he was, guided home by his ship and his time senses. He ran a hand over the door before turning the key and stepping inside.

The Doctor flinched away from the time ship’s comforting hum. Being comforted would mean he’d lost something. He hadn’t… she couldn’t… He pressed his fists against the edge of the console and leaned forward, breathing raggedly.

After a long moment, he straightened up and swallowed. He needed to be gone from here—Gone from everywhere, his mind suggested—and he slowly punched in the coordinates that would send them into the Vortex.

Yes, I’m so sorry I did this. But it was the only way to bring about the fix I wanted to write.

From chapter 39:

The beach was empty, save for one person coming toward him a fast pace. Runner, his mind supplied. Her hair caught in the wind, and he wondered how long it would be before he could look at a blonde and not see Rose.

It was more than her hair colour that was familiar, however. There was something in her gait, in the way she held herself… Then he noticed the runner’s blue cardigan and black trousers. His hearts clenched, and his own pace picked up, until he was running toward her flat out.

“Doctor!” Rose called out, and the sound of her voice gave him an extra burst of speed. He caught her in his arms only seconds later and lifted her up, twirling around while she laughed.

“Rose, oh Rose, you’re here,” he murmured as he set her back on her feet. He pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m here, my Doctor,” she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his face.

He lifted a shaking hand and pressed his fingers to her temple without even asking. Rose mirrored him, and everything was almost perfect.

Forever, she said without being prompted, and their bond snapped back into place.

The Doctor’s knees nearly buckled, and the thought that he didn’t want the rest of their reunion to take place on a cold beach worked its way into his consciousness.

He took her hand and grinned down at her. “Run!”

I love this reunion so much.

From chapter 40:

Rose leaned her head against his shoulder, and the Doctor wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. He could feel her mind working, trying to figure something out, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Do you think I saw this, when I was Bad Wolf?” she asked finally. “Did I make this happen?”

The Doctor considered. “You were Time, Rose. It wasn’t just something you were aware of, or that you marked your life with. For that half hour, Time was entwined with the essence of who you are. So yes, I think you saw this. And I think the place you held in Time probably will make key moments in your life... resonate more than they would for an ordinary person.”

He looked down at her and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “But I don’t think Bad Wolf made this happen. I think we did.”

Rose chewed on the inside of her mouth, then the slight tension around her eyes eased and she smiled. “You’re right, my Doctor,” she said. “And it all began right down there.”

Sitting in the Earthlight with his bond mate, the Doctor reached out tentatively for their timelines. The beauty of what he saw took his breath away, and he pressed his fingers to Rose’s temple so she could see it too. Two timelines entwined, stretching into the future as far as they could see.

And the last few lines of the story proper (excluding the epilogue). Maybe it’s unusual to share the last lines in a recap post, but it really shows how they changed and grew together over the six months or so of the story, and gives an idea of what their future will be like. 

[blighted-cinda]

Okay so my friend and I were discussing the timeline between Origins and DA2

And what the frick-frack-paddy-whack-give-a-dog-a-bone is hAPPENING???? 

 I know tons of people have gone through just how impossible it is that Anders ended up in Kirkwall by the time Hawke meets him, but let's go through the main points, and THEN I'll explain my ridiculous headcanon of how the heck he did it.

Okay, first off: TIMELINE

 - The wiki lists 9:30 Dragon as the beginning of the Blight, so let's assume it starts right at the beginning: the first day of Verimensis/Wintersmarch (also the holiday First Day) 9:30.

 - It also lists 9:31 as the defeat of Archdemon Urthemiel, and the Warden canonically defeated the Blight within a year, so let's say the Blight ended after exactly a year, on First Day in 9:31, and Hawke's year of servitude ended a negligible amount of time afterwards. 

 - The events of Awakening begin six months afterward, putting the attack on Vigil's Keep on the First of Solis/Solace: Anders is at the Keep on this day. - It's unclear exactly how long Awakening takes in-universe, but the general consensus seems to be six months, putting the death of the Mother on First Day 9:32, meaning Anders is still with the Warden-Commander at the beginning of 9:32.  This ALREADY puts the timeline out the window because the wiki lists the Deep Roads Expedition as occurring in 9:31, and Anders is recruited by Hawke by this point. 

Even assuming Anders lost his cat and left the Keep IMMEDIATELY after the Mother's death, the EARLIEST he could have been in Kirkwall at all, let alone a well-known healer, is halfway through Wintersmarch 9:32, by which point the expedition would be almost if not totally finished. 

 So... teleportation?? 

 NOPE STRAP INTO THE CRAZY TRAIN KIDDOS 

 Two words: Duplicate. Anders.

 I KNOW, I KNOW, JUST BEAR WITH ME 

 Let's take a look at a few epilogue possibilities in Awakening:

Anders

Anders will remain with the Grey Wardens to train the Order's next generation of mages. When he is called by the Circle of Magi to deliver a lecture on the nature of the Architect - much to the templars' dismay -, he tells the Commander of the Grey that his time with the Wardens is over. However, not two months later, he returns and the Wardens remain his home and lasting companions.

If left to defend the Keep, Anders will be hailed a hero by the few survivors of Vigil's Keep by using his magic to hold off hundreds of darkspawn. He gets invited by the men to engage in a drinking contest. He loses.

If Anders' companion quest is not complete, he will be captured again when he resigns from the Wardens (whenever he did in the first option, which seems like a few months at least). With his phylactery secure, he is unable to evade the templars. After two subsequent escape attempts, he vanishes for a third and final time.

If left to defend the Keep without enough upgrades to it, he is found dead with an arrow through his neck with hundreds of darkspawn dead in a circle around him; none were touched with a blade, but all were felled by magic.

Justice

(I'll leave some unfinished after they refute DA2's version)

Justice serves with the Order for many years, keeping in touch with Kristoff's wife, Aura, during his stay...

...he will serve the Order for many years, fighting darkspawn resistance pockets...

Once the darkspawn threat was ended, Justice left the Grey Wardens to pursue other injustices. Years later he appeared on the doorstep of Kristoff's widow and, smiling, simply dropped dead...

...Justice will fight valiantly, but, before the victory horn is sounded, a darkspawn sword removes Kristoff's head. It is unknown whether the spirit perishes or simply departs...

...Justice will stand in the ruins of Vigil's Keep looking in to the sun and saying "Now I know what to do." The ghost then disappears leaving behind the rotten body of Kristoff...

...Justice is killed by the Warden. It is unknown whether the spirit survived...

A mysterious figure in Grey Warden armor is occasionally seen in the marsh, erecting gravestones to honor villagers of old...

So Anders either "dies" (which I believe is explained away in DA2), escapes (there is no way he escaped three times in a short enough timeframe to get to Kirkwall) or remains with the Wardens, and Justice stays with the Wardens, loses Kristoff's body during Awakening, runs off with his body, or stays in the Blackmarsh and never travels with Anders.  They CANNOT have merged and left for Kirkwall by the time Hawke's expedition leaves, if ever, in at least several if not most worldstates that might be imported. 

Now we COULD just say that the devs changed their minds and rewrote the timeline and the Awakening epilogues aren't really canon and Awakening was shorter than six months and Anders just got to Kirkwall really fast. 

 BUT THAT'S NO FUN SO LET'S MAKE A REALLY CONVOLUTED EXPLANATION AND TRY TO PROVE IT WAS ALL INTENTIONAL 

 My theory: 

When the Commander's party (which we'll assume contained Anders) escapes the Fade in Blackmarsh, the magic at work drew spirits towards the point of the escape. Spirits tend to imprint and alter based on their surroundings, so what if the spirits were affected by the magic at just the moment they were adapting and then pulled through with the party? And WHAT IF they were affected in such a way that they FULLY imprinted on the minds of the party, making DUPLICATES (or at least very close copies) of the party's minds? And then, when taking on forms in the physical world, they each unknowingly took on the forms of the member they imprinted on, creating full copies, body and mind, of the companions?

The escape happens in the Baroness's courtyard, returning the minds of Party1 to their bodies in Kristoff's clearing. The SPIRITS (Party2) are not limited to those bodies, and so are pulled through in the courtyard. It's possible that, since time is not a concept in the Fade, Party2 didn't actually take form until AFTER Party1 had left Blackmarsh. They may have known they were duplicates, or they may not have, but eventually they would have figured it out. And Justice2, with the memories of at least one spirit, might have guessed that the forms were not stable and would eventually disappear. SO, depending on the personality of each companion, the duplicates might have sought out Party1 (especially the Warden), and since they knew they would disappear anyway within months or years or whatever, they took the place of  the originals. They would know that Person2 would vanish within months or years, giving Person1 enough time to go off on their own without being tracked. But Cinda, there’s no way the Warden would/could just disa-

...A few years later, the Warden vanishes...

...After a number of years, however, neither she nor Alistair were seen again...

...But some years later the Warden vanishes...

...But a few years later, the Warden vanishes, and nobody knows why...

...he never returns to Vigil's Keep again...

...might simply just vanish for reasons unknown...

Etc. etc. The Warden vanishes in pretty much every epilogue. Key word: vanishes. How does the Hero of Amaranthine, Commander of the Grey, likely the Hero of Ferelden, and possibly the fucking king or queen just up and vanish?? Unless that’s exactly what they did - they literally vanished. At least, the duplicate Warden did, possibly being able to go back into the Fade. The original, however, was long gone, using the extra time to head off on other adventures without being tracked.

But Anders2, he wouldn’t want to switch. Why would he want to go back to the Wardens and the Templars? He’s like “oh I’m finally free!!” because the Wardens and Templars both think he’s at the Keep, AND his phylactery (if not destroyed) probably wouldn’t track a spirit in Anders’s shape, so he could not be tracked. But he knows he’ll vanish, so that’s one of the reasons he merges with Justice2 - they think it might stabilize them both for a time and give them the time they need to get justice for the mages. So Kirkwall Anders is the duplicate, which explains the timeline (he left before the end of Awakening) and maybe some of the personality changes that can’t be explained just by Justice, like the really weird flirting things.

The spirits are both still degrading, so even at the beginning his mind is already under some psychosis, which only gets worse and more unstable as the years go on. So by the time the Chantry happens, Anders2 is in full on degradation. He knows that he’ll disappear soon, so he needs to do something BIG - no more one-drop-at-a-time stuff, he needs to make a STATEMENT. So in his psychosis and desperation, he decides on the Chantry. All while Anders1 (who is still snarky and hates Templars, but is not nearly as much of an asshole as Anders2 - Anders1 would probably want to open that clinic if he could) is living or rotting in his epilogue.

B O O M

Okay, that’s enough conspiracy theorizing for one day. Thank you. *gets down off of soapbox*