#(its a big spoiler but not 'i can never enjoy this game now' big)

[calamityjoan]

A DAUGHTER'S CURSE ✮ DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

SUMMARY | "Dutch's bloody hands had shaped you into his favorite revolver, even more deadly than his Schofield, for there was nothing in the world as bloodthirsty as a daughter who wanted to prove she was worth ten sons."

PAIRING | Dutch van der Linde x Adoptive Daughter!Reader

TAGS | Canon-typical violence, mention of sexual assault, daddy issues (a lot of it) and angst.

WORDCOUNT | 3.5k

NOTE | This verse screams Damned!Dutch's daughter. Enjoy the product of that. It is chaotic and messy and not proofread but⏤oh well⏤isn't that fitting for RDR2? The final part contains direct quotes from the game and, thus, may be a spoiler. But come on, it's been seven years.

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Like the marvelous country that was the West, the loyalty of men knew no bound. It went beyond law and reason, and sometimes drove the purest hearts to the worst horrors.

Some had dedicated poems to its beauty, its dangers too, but no soul had ever created pentameters faithful enough to the loyalty of daughters for their fathers.

The daughter's loyalty was the father's weapon, a silent but destructive ammunition on which men could always count. The father sculpted his daughter and molded her to his will.

Dutch's bloody hands had shaped you into his favorite revolver, even more deadly than his Schofield, for there was nothing in the world as bloodthirsty as a daughter who wanted to prove she was worth ten sons.

It all began when he found you on Chicago's government pier, at the edge of Civilization and all its sins.

Above his head, night and its thick, speckled tapestry wove, as usual, the perfect place to conceal a plethora of crimes.

But certainly not the weeping—it drowned out the creaking of the merchant ship Dutch and Hosea had managed to plunder.

The outlaw turned and squinted, forgetting the bear fur to investigate the sound anomaly. It took him a few seconds to make out the small figure lurking in the shadows.

Wrapped up in an overcoat too big for you, you—a mere child at that time—shivered behind a barrel that reeked of rotting meat.

“What are you doing?” Hosea asked, his hand elbow-deep in a jewelry box. “Hurry up. Arthur and John are probably already on Dearborn Street.”

Dutch ignored his friend's protests and took a step towards you. Your face, innocent as can be and distorted by the ugliness of fear, blanched at his sight.

Your frightened eyes guided me to you, your father always said. Their tears aligned the stars, and I only followed my destiny.

You knew the truth—what had really caught his attention that evening had been the bloody knife you had brandished at him with trembling hands.

You would never forget the sparkle that shone in his eyes at the sight, nor the hand he offered you.

When your tiny fingers brushed Dutch's blistered ones—the fingers of a sinner—and the man promised you bed and a hot meal, the first poisoned drops of loyalty flowed and mingled with the night so easily that you didn't see their crimson color.

The first lesson Dutch taught you was how to shoot a gun. He gave you his, then too heavy for your small hand.

The dissonance between the tender skin of innocence and the ominous iron barrel disturbed Hosea (“Isn't it a bit too early for that? She's only seven. Show her how to pick pocket instead,”) but not Dutch, who merely smiled and corrected your grip on the weapon.

“For now, hold it with both hands. One on the stock, the other under the barrel. Your fingers should always be on or against the guard. Never on the trigger, unless you want to shoot yourself in the foot. Only pull the trigger when you're ready to shoot.”

“How will I know I'm ready?” you asked in a timid voice.

A second passed. Dutch shrugged.

“You'll know when the time comes. Now, feet apart.”

His boot pushed against your frail ankle. 

“Bend your knees. Good. Now hold still.”

The man walked away. You almost reached out a hand but, remembering his words, quickly put it back under the barrel.

From a leather satchel, Dutch drew four glass bottles and placed them in a row. The remnants of a strong spirit, no doubt. The pungent aromas scented the camp often enough for you to recognize them.

The outlaw returned soon enough, and your shoulders relaxed. You had not been aware of their contraction until the scent of powder and musk embraced you again.

“You know how it works, don't you?”

You nodded shyly. A strand of hair escaped your braid and fell before your eyes. Dutch tutted. With a distracted hand, he tucked it behind your ear before pressing his palm against your shoulder blades.

“Now, both hands on the stock.”

You complied, hands trembling. Dutch pointed to the bottles with his chin as his hand at your back became more insistent.

“Try aiming for a–”

A deafening crack shook the barrel before Dutch had finished his sentence. The sound reverberated against the surrounding trees and the accompanying jolt struck your wrist with such force you were forced to let go of the gun.

Dutch's hand pressed against your shoulder blades.

“It's all right, it's all right. I've got you.”

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Dutch! I didn't mean to– ’m sorry!”

The words stumbled from your lips, drowned out by panic and the ghostly buzzing that persisted against your eardrums.

“It's very... noisy.”

“You'll get used to it,” the outlaw's voice snapped. “Do it again. But this time, breathe out before you fire. Your lungs must be empty, understand? It'll help with the recoil.”

Childlike fingers searched for the trigger.

“Empty lungs,” Dutch repeated.

The bottle, still intact, glinted in the sunlight. One of the rays shimmered against the barrel before disappearing as you aimed at the glass; a gloomy eclipse that made you shiver.

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaled until you felt your ribcage fold in on itself, and hesitated only a second before firing.

The bullet whistled.

And disappeared in the bushes. 

You sighed.

“It's all right, Kid,” he reassured you. “We've got all the time in the world.”

You borrowed only an hour of the world’s time before a bottle finally exploded. Enchanted by the shattering glass, you turned back to Dutch, grinning from ear to ear.

And that singular sparkle reappeared in the man's brown eyes.

Years later, you would recognize this glint as that of an outlaw who had got his hands on a gold mine. For the time being, you were a mere seven-year-old and relished in the attention you were receiving for the first time in your life.

With your veins as the thread, loyalty wove its first stitches in your chest and condemned you to the worst curse of all: a daughter trying to make her dather proud.

At the age of twelve, you thus asked Hosea to teach you how to hunt. He took you to a forest on the edge of Chicago, not far from the camp, and placed a rifle in your blistered palms. Trapped between the silence of the forest and birdsongs, you shot a doe for the first time and regretted that Dutch could not be with you to see it.

At the age of fourteen, Arthur realized you weren’t going anywhere. Like him several years earlier, you had taken root and become a member of the pack—one of his to protect. When you were nearly killed during a stagecoach robbery, he handed you his old shotgun, muttering words about being more careful next time and left you standing there, with a new weapon in your arms.

At the age of fifteen, John tossed a bag full of throwing knives at your feet and dared you to hit the target drawn on the oak tree. Never one to pass on a challenge, you drew one out and weighed it on your finger. The steel, lighter than that of a revolver, nicked the pad of your index. John laughed. You raised an eyebrow and threw the dagger, stabbing it in the trunk as John looked on in disbelief. Behind you both, Dutch burst out laughing and you felt alive again.

Other members came and went over the next few years. Mary Linton didn't stay, but Susan and Tilly did, as Bill, Javier and Davey. You were introduced to other weapons—snipers, dynamite, bows, even axes—but you would always return to your revolver and the first memory of Dutch.

Loyalty wrapped itself around your neck for good when, at seventeen, you killed for Dutch for the first time.

Nothing remained of the sensation of that night on the pier, when the blade had sunk into the fat belly of the drunkard who had tried to rape you.

Today, dread was replaced by jubilation, as you reloaded the barrel of your revolver and blew the head off yet another O'Driscoll. Crouched behind a rock, adrenalin pounded your temples and sharpened your senses.

“Come out! Van Der Linde!” a voice taunted behind her. “Colm wants to say hello!”

A shadow in a green scarf swooped down on Dutch. You choked out a scream as the O’Driscoll threw the first punch.

“No, Father!”

Dutch fell in the mud with a grunt. The O'Driscoll turned back to her, a toothy grin on his lips. His fist, still clenched, was dripping blood. Your father's blood, you realized.

The butt of your revolver lacerated your palm as you tightened your grip around it.

“I didn't know good ol’ Dutch had a daughter! Tell me, sweetheart, do you want to see me blow your daddy's brains out?”

The Irishman grabbed Dutch's hair. You saw red and jumped.  

Three blows echoed through the clearing. Dutch fell back to the ground. The O'Driscoll raised a hand to his chest and blanched.

Empty lungs.

He collapsed, his scarf green no more.

You dropped your revolver and rushed to Dutch. The man was still lying on the ground, his face covered in mud and blood, but his bewildered eyes moved frantically as he caught sight of you.

“Are you all right?” you asked, breathless.

The look of disbelief didn't go away. Louisa thought at first of head trauma—his head, after all, had slammed against the floor—but when he got to his feet without your help, your own words came back to taunt you.

Your whole body froze before you straightened up and, avoiding his eyes, turned around to rush to your horse.

You straddled him and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“You called me ‘Father’,” he told her that evening, when you finally summoned the courage to go see him.

In silence, you sat at his bedside before grabbing a clean rag and soaking it with whisky. With a trembling hand, you wiped the clotted blood from the corners of her lips, searching their familiar shapes for the right words. Dutch always knew what to say.

“I did,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

He grabbed your wrist.

You tensed.

“Why?”

“I don't know.”

Dutch searched your face for something, but didn't seem to find it. He abruptly let go and pulled a cigar from his jacket’s patch pocket before lighting it. You watched the man take a short puff; for a moment, the arabesques of smoke diverted your mind from the anguish that swarmed within.

But Dutch's sigh plunged you right back into it. He spread an arm out.

You flinched but a hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from falling.

“Come here, Kid.”

You promptly burst into tears and fell into his arms.

Several minutes passed without either of you speaking. Dutch broke the silence first.

“Can I count on you?”

“I'll follow you all the way to Hell,” you immediately replied, unaware that the Styx and Phlegethon started from your father's wounds.

 “Dutch is just trying to get us out of here,” you sharply whispered to Arthur as you scoured tonight’s dinner’s dishes.

The incessant splashing of icy water was doing a poor job at masking your anger. The feeling of betrayal had cut too deep at your chest for that. It made your fingers shake as you rubbed a dirty coffee cup a little harder. 

Of all the members of the gang, you had never thought Arthur would doubt Dutch.

You kept your eyes fixed on your hands, reddened not by blood but by effort—a rare sight indeed. Lately, not a day went by without you being sent to kill someone.

You grabbed another plate to shake off the weight of guilt. The sponge squeaked against the iron and drowned your thoughts for a second.

“He ain’t been the same since Micah came,” Arthur began, “and you know it as well as me. Always talking about his big plan, dangling mountains of gold in front of us, but we both know it won’t happen.”

You slammed the bowl against the table, startling Pearson who was butchering a doe, and turned back to Arthur, your finger pointed at him.

“You don't know what you're talking about!”

“And you're blinded by your love for him! Look around, Y/N. We're the last. Civilization is on our doorstep. Dutch can't fight it. We've got to get out. John, Sadie and Abigail agree. Come along.”

A bitter laugh forced its way out of your chest.

“Please, love.”

You lowered your head and, with a lump in the throat, said softly: “Go away, Arthur.”

The gunslinger sighed and did just that. The strange sight made your lips part, ready to take back what you had just said, but no word came out. You clenched your fist.   

Dutch, you thought. Dutch will know what to do.

You abandoned the dishes and headed for your father's tent. Voices escaped from the canvas, and it only took you a second to recognize Micah's. You gritted your teeth. You didn't trust this snake any more than Arthur did, but one rotten apple did not spoil the whole barrel.

Both men fell silent when you came into view.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked Dutch.

“Not now, Kid. Micah got a lead that could be very good for us.”

Although his voice was soft, you couldn't help the pain that lacerated your chest. For the first time, Dutch had dismissed you. Beside him, Micah watched on with a victorious eye.

For a second, your fingers brushed against revolver at your belt, but you quickly recovered and, flashing your most convincing smile, nodded.

As soon as you turned, the facade dropped. You pushed back the tent flap with a trembling hand and, trying to ignore the crack that had just appeared, returned to your bedroll, where nightmares brought you back to the Chicago pier.

This time, no man reached out a hand.

Loyalty knew almost no bound—for only jealousy was a worthy rival and could, piece by piece, unravel the sacred stitches it sewed in hearts.

Micah Bell, more snake than man, had hissed his lies and perfidy into Dutch's sick ear—a modern reincarnation of the Garden of Eden where Eve would not bite the apple. No. This time, the sinner had only one name, ironic as it was.

Father.

The Daughter was and would remain a figure cursed by her sex—apple in the eyes of the Father, turned rotten with the appearance of a Son.

And what a son, you thought as Micah pointed his gun at an emaciated Arthur and a bruised John. A son who had ratted them out to the Pinkertons. A sellout. A traitor.

This thought awakened a rage you had hitherto tried to bury deep within yourself. It bubbled up in your veins and rattled your chest.

Slowly, your fingers slipped to your belt.

“All of you...” Arthur began, his revolver pointed at the crowd. “You pick your side, because this is over. All them years, Dutch... for this snake?”

“Oh, be quiet, cowpoke. Be quiet!”

You could not look away from your father. He hadn't answered. Why hadn’t he answered?

An enraged Susan Grimshaw sided with Arthur and snapped you out of your reverie. The rifle she was holding clashed with the strict image you had built up over the years.

“No. You be quiet, Mr. Bell… and put down your gun.”

“There’s Pinkertons coming, fast.”

Javier's announcement sent the camp into a deadly frenzy. Seizing his chance, Micah shot Mrs. Grimshaw, who collapsed to the ground in a bloodcurdling scream.

 “No!”

You fell to your knees and placed your hands on the gaping wound perforating her stomach.

“No, no, no, no, no... Not again, not again,” you whispered frantically.

You pressed harder on Mrs. Grimshaw's wound as she continued to writhe in pain. 

“Come on. Don’t die on me. Please,” you begged.

Kieran, Sean, Lenny, Hosea... How many friends had you lost? How many more names would join the cursed list? Would you be next?

Why hadn't Dutch answered Arthur's question?

Despite your pleas and efforts, Mrs. Grimshaw soon stopped moving.

When you felt the body exhale against your palm, you froze. As if they had a mind on their own, your hands slid to the muddy ground, now soaked with innocent blood.

You watched on with dull eyes.

“Who amongst you is with me…” Dutch's voice echoed behind her. “And who is betraying me?”

You raised your head and stared into Mrs. Grimshaw's dead eyes. Your hand shook. A few drops of blood dripped from it. You wiped them off on your jeans and clenched your fist before standing up on wobbly legs.

Meanwhile, the camp had divided itself: John and Arthur on one side, Dutch and the rest on the other.

And you, in the middle of this abyss, stood motionless, your chest empty.

It was only when Arthur collapsed in a coughing fit that you came back to life. You rushed to your brother and placed a comforting hand between his shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?”

Arthur's grip on his revolver wavered. The sight, so far removed from the gunslinger you had known all your life, tore at your heart. All had changed. Everyone you’d ever cared about was either a ghost of themselves or a decomposed corpse.

“He's lying... Cowpoke is lying,” Micah taunted, his two revolvers pointed at them.

That was the last straw. You let out an inhuman scream and drew your weapon.

“You!Shut the fuck up! I've had enough of your words!”

A toothy grin appeared on the blond's face.

“Oh... It seems the little one got claws after all.”

“Kid,” Dutch began but you kept your eyes and revolver on the traitor.

It's all his fault.

“Kid, put the gun down and come here,” Dutch ordered in a distracted voice.

No, in a confident voice.

After all, why should a model daughter disobey her father?

For the first time, you hesitated and glanced over your shoulder.

Arthur was watching you, his eyes tired but pleading. You recalled your conversation from weeks earlier.

He's not the same. We both know that.

You turned back to Dutch and searched his eyes for the familiar spark of the early days, but nothing but greed and arrogance swam in those irises.

You bowed your head and admitted defeat.

The Father's image withered before her very eyes. Loyalty evaporated in a second. The blood of the pact coagulated. The heart dried up. Already, the mind was feeling the poison’s effects and destroying the golden images to leave only the cold hard truth.

Suddenly, the choice seemed obvious.

You took a step towards Arthur and John.

“No,”

“What do you mean “no”?” Dutch laughed. “Come here, Kid, or–”

Your blood ran cold. The stitches of loyalty loosened and those of hatred replaced them.

“Or what? You'll shoot me? 

“Cut the crap and get over here, Kid!”

“I ain’t your kid!” you exploded.

Your voice echoed through the clearing. Dutch froze.

You took a deep breath and, hand trembling, pointed your revolver at him.

The sensation of déjà-vu strangled you. All you had to do was close your eyes to be transported to the Chicago pier. You could almost hear the creaking of the merchant ship and Hosea's muttering.

But Hosea is dead.

You tightened your grip on the butt of the revolver. The dozens of blisters covering your hands burst into flames. Dutch was the sole reason for their presence. If you burst them, would the blood of the victims you had killed for him flow?

“You're not my father,” you continued despite your quavering voice. “My father died when he chose to side with this traitor.”

Her index finger left the grip.

“Kid, put the gun down.”

If he'd wanted you to be an obedient daughter, why had he taught you to shoot at seven?

You went over the guard.

Empty lungs.

You exhaled.

A daughter's loyalty to her father knew no bound, except for the one Betrayal erected.

Then, filial rage spared nothing.

Not even the Father.

[therosefield]

going through my first new game+ run and have reached this conversation in old lumière which i now realise this time around is renoir referring to clea in her younger days:

i have some thoughts to share. spoilers for act 3 (including side quests/late-game optional content) under the cut:

i think it's truly painful to think about because of all the siblings, it's clea who most loved the kind of art her family's renowned for. she loves painting and the artistic form so well that she clearly wanted to spend her youth bringing all sorts of wonderous tales to life within her own canvases, and became upset upon realising she'd never have enough time to truly be able to do that with all of the great fables to ever exist.

(not to say verso and alicia definitely didn't also enjoy painting, just to clarify, because they probably did, but verso's big love was his music and alicia appears to have inclinations towards writing, if the secret library/study area connected to her room in the manor is anything to go by.)

the way renoir/the fading man talks about it makes it sound like a true childhood wonder, and maybe that's exactly what it was – how many of us creatively-inclined have felt the same melancholy at some point or another, knowing that there was and still is so much artistic brilliance out there in the world; more than we'll ever get to even know about? i don't personally hold the belief that dreams like that are dangerous, but it would not surprise me if the eldest daughter of the head of the artists' council was told to treat it that way by her mother if it upset her enough to distract her from the work and the legacy she'd stood to grow into.

but then i remembered the lampmaster, and the way the fading boy (verso) describes it in a way that almost sounds like a fable in and of itself; a ghost story brought to life, playing on his fear of the dark. clea used to feel (and maybe still does deep down?) like she should see all the fables of the world so that she can recreate them in her own canvas; assuming the lampmaster is not one such fable, has she not made one of her own in creating it?

separately from all of the above, i'd been thinking about her well-documented penchant for perfection, and how that might impact her issues with the portraits of her painted by her parents: an axon – and i have a lot of thoughts on The Hauler which i will probably go into in a separate post – which she empowered simon to kill, and a literal recreation of herself, which is implied to have insulted her to the point of her repainting (read: hijacking) her painted self to suit her own needs.

putting the two separate trains of thoughts together then got me thinking: what fable-equivalents are there in the canvas world? there's esquie and the gestrals which verso created, sure; but there's also the nevrons, the lampmaster, dualliste, françois– all created by clea. in a world that exists solely within a canvas like lumière/the continent, the only fables to be found are that which the painters create; and with the exception of françois who's magnificiently rocky turtle-y self could never be duplicated, clea has puppeted her mother's portrait of her to diligently recreate every fabled creature she's brought into existence, over and over again.

and so there her painted self is, fufilling the dream the real clea had as a child: knowing about all the fables of the world, and faithfully bringing them to life within the canvas. its a dream so powerful it literally kills her in the end, because it's not truly her dream – it's just another goal passed down from creator/mother to creation/daughter. clea may have inherited her perfectionism and single-minded focus on her war from her mother, whether she wanted to inherit them or not. in creating more nevrons until she is stopped by expedition 33, her painted self has inherited – unwillingly, as we well know – the same things from her in turn.

[ilonii]

Roomies S.G.

✧ s.m - the everyday life of you and roommate satoru gojo

w.c - 1.1k

warnings. fem reader, use of "y/n" general fluff, mild nudity, flirtatious relationship, sarcasm, etc. brief mentions of aot with possible spoilers

an. first post in the jjk roomie series, really hope you guys enjoy.

Roommate Gojo who moved in with you four years ago and hasn’t stopped bothering ever you since.

Roommate Gojo who has absolutely no sense of personal space. If you’re anywhere within a five-foot radius, he’s right on top of you.

“Gojo please, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really appreciated it if you backed off”

“No can do pretty”

“For the love of God.”

Roommate Gojo who is a bit of a…free spirit. He thinks his body is a masterpiece and should therefore, be shared with the world. He walks around with no shirt, pees with the door open, sleeps naked, certainly not with the door closed, leaves the bathroom in nothing but a towel and so much more.

Roommate Gojo who eats enough to feed a small army. You do the cooking; he does the eating. Meal preps that were supposed to last two weeks, don’t make it three days. Cakes and cookies you’ve baked for parties disappear overnight.

“Gojo, what happened to the four dozen cookies I made last night”

“Oh um, I ate them”

“ALL OF THEM?”

“Yeah”

“You didn’t see the note?”

“What note?”

“The one that said, “do not eat, naked for party””

“Oh, that’s what that little was, I accidently ate it”

“You ate it?”

“It was in the way of my cookies…”

“What is wrong with you.”

Roommate Gojo who never sleeps and makes sure you don't either.

“Gojo please, its so loud, turn it offfff”

Silence.

“Gojo? Hellloooo”

Of course, he was wearing those god forsaken headphones.

“GOJO TURN IT OFF”

“Hey wtf, what are you doing up? Its 3am, don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Well, I would be sleep, If your game wasn’t blaring through the walls keeping me awake all night”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could hear it, it doesn’t seem that loud to me”

“WELL, IT IS”

“Okay, I’ll turn it down, geez”

“And while you’re at it, go to bed, you’ve been awake for three days now”

“I can’t sleep”

Roommate Gojo who sometimes…crosses the line. Not in the way you might think. He’s never really done anything inappropriate to you, so you can't complain about that. But he’s just friendlier than a roommate probably should be.

“Cmon, its not a big deal”

“Gojo, you’re my friend, but even then, cuddling you to sleep? Doesn’t there seem like there should be a line somewhere?”

“You did it last week?”

“By accident! We fell asleep on the couch; it’s not that deep”

“Y/n please. That’s the best sleep I’ve had in literal YEARS”

“Gojo-”

“PLEASEEEE”

“Okay FINE, but we’re going to bed when I say so”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”

Roommate Gojo who is a relationship saboteur. He swears every guy you meet isn’t good enough for you, or up to his ridiculous standards. He pesters and breaks you down, until you agree to let him meet the guy, and from that point forward, it’s a downhill battle.

“Gojo, what is wrong with you”

“What? If anything, you should be thanking me”

“THANKING YOU? That’s the third date you’ve RUINED this month alone”

“That guy was a piece of crap; he didn’t even compliment you when he walked in the door”

“Maybe because from the second he stepped foot on the porch you were barreling down his throat, you didn’t even give him a chance to speak!” “Well, if it was me, I wouldn’t have let a single thing stop me from complimenting my women”

“Well, it’s not you”

“But it could be”

“Gojo get out of my face”

Roommate Gojo who’s all bark and no bite. He swears up and down that he was women practically falling at his feet, yet you’ve never seen him go on a single date.

Roommate Gojo who now that you’ve think about it, hasn’t even talked to a single woman since he’s moved in.

“Gojo?”

“What’s up pretty”

“Are you gay?”

“Idk”

“So that’s not a no?”

“Well, it’s not a yes either”

“So, the windows open?”

“Probably not”

“But you said “idk””

“Because I can’t be sure”

“Why not”

“Because I’ve never been with, dated or even kissed a guy before”

“Well, I seriously doubt you’ve “been” with any women either, so how can you even be sure that you like them?”

“Because I like you”

“And now we’re done.”

“Goodnight pretty”

“Goodnight Gojo”

Roommate Gojo who’s defiantly not gay because he just confessed his feelings for you.

“What”

“I said I really like you”

“I really like you too Gojo? You say that all the time though, why are you being so serious about it now”

“No. I LIKE you, like Mikasa likes Eren. Btw are you all caught up on that or??”

“Yeah, and by gods I hope that kind of love never finds me”

“What? They were so great together”

“I mean yeah ideally but literally? No way. They spent their entire lives pinning for each-other, and dancing around the subject, so much so that she literally was forced to mourn him for the rest of her life AFTER having to chop is freaking head off”

“I mean yeah, but like, they still loved each other though”

“Obviously, but when you really think about it-”

“Okay, we’re getting off topic, I said, I REALLY like you”

“Well, I mean, I like you too but what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Date me”

“Are you gonna ask?”

“Will you let me be your boyfriend?”

“Mmm we’ll see”

“OH CMON.”

border by @grungenglam

comment to be added to tag list!

[rpgchoices]

do you have any recs for rpgs with lesbian romance options? i've played the big ones already (mass effect, dragon age, bg3, pathfinder) and was hoping you knew of some others

YES!! I have a list to update here and a steam group for any queer romance here, but here are the WLW ones I know (in bold: I have played them) and I added some I know and I have not played yet in italics. My favorites are in pink!

RPG: isometric

Rogue Trader: it has two wlw romances, Jae and the new DLC with Kibella. I also found Rogue Trader easier than Pathfinder (as gameplay and lore) and no need to know anything about Warhammer.

Divinity: Original Sin 2: Lohse and Sebille (and you can romance them together as it is exactly like BG3 so you can play one or the other). Great characters and story, much more humorous than BG3.

Expeditions: Rome: I have not played this one! But Deianeira can be romanced.

Expeditions: Viking: Another historical isometric rpg. I remember little of the story, but I enjoyed the characters and Roskva can be romanced by a female player character too.

Pendula Swing: This is more of a rpg adventure, no combat. You play as a female character who used to be a big hero and is now retired and is mourning her wife. You will start living again when someone steals your legendary weapon and in the game you can date different characters (the romance side is not too big).

Pillars of Eternity Deadfire: Sequel of the first game, amazing rpg and two of the female companions (Xoti and Maia) can be romanced.

Knight Bewitched: This is a JRPG inspired game, pixel game too. You play as a female knight and there is only one romance story (with the witch).

RPG: Action

Enderal: ENDERAL!! It has two romance options and one is Calia (f). An amazing free rpg, it is a mod of Skyrim (so you need pc) but it has its own story, lore and combat. One of my favorite videogames, and Calia has the most interesting story in game.

Jade Empire: Silk Fox! This is an old Bioware game which in my opinion still holds up very well. The story is wild, with a lot of unexpected twists and turns, and Silk Fox is probably the most interesting companion.

Cyberpunk 2077: I have not played this but heard good things

Greedfall: Siora. Although I really hated this game and never finished.

Starfield: I have not played it but I know there are two romancable female characters (out of four total) and they are not gender locked.

Visual novel: non dating sim/rpg with or without combat

I was a teenage exocolonist: mix of visual novel and isometric rpg, this is an AMAZING GAME. Do not let the title trick you, it blew my mind and made me actually cry. You can play as nb, male or female, and there are multiple romance options (m, f and nb). The female characters who can be romanced are (SPOILERS), Tang, Marz or Nem.

Loren the Amazon princess: This is more of a classic old style game, I would say the quality is nothing like "I was a teenage exocolonist" but still fun. It is a mix of visual novel, dating sim and combat (jrpg turn based). As a female wlw protagonist you can romance Loren, Chambara or Karen.

Cursed Lands: Same universe as "Loren the Amazon Princess", but I found this one kind of tedious. Still, multiple romances. As a female character you can romance these female characters: Sylrissa, Nuala or Leena.

Tales of Aravorn: This is a sequel of "Loren the Amazon Princess", I am currently playing it. You won't be able to carry over any wlw romance (or mlm romance), but you can romance a new female characters.

These last three games are from WinterWolves company which usually adds wlw and mlm romance in all their games. They also recently published a wlw only game.

Stray Gods: This is a full on visual novel, kind of detective story, with music. You play as a Muse (Greek mythology) and there are two female characters you can romance.

Visual novel: dating sim

Salting the Earth: Okay, I usually don't play dating sims but this is worth it! Lesbian orcs daring sim! There are three romance options.

[wisteriainslumber]

baby twst headcanons

happy mothers day, have some disorganized tiny shenanigans feat. the twst women warnings: ch7 spoilers for draconia family members, siblings lying for fun (borderline malicious behaviour), foul language, and maybe a teensybitoftraumaoopsies

Riddle

if he could, he'd be an outside kid with tons of bug friends

secretly kept a caterpillar pet in a lil terrarium jar until it could fly on its own

he found it while it was raining outside and wanted to help it grow :(

my guy was a sickly victorian child

rarely would three months go by without riddle falling ill

he has dyslexia. without the pressure of having to get everything right on the first try, riddle can kinda enjoy reading now because he gets to learn new words and concepts at his own pace

deep in the corner of his room sits a journal with only half if it filled out. most of the entries start like 'i read a new book today' immediately followed by something like 'i do not understand life'

he actually can't bear to read the contents of the more recent diaries, but he equally can't bear to throw them away (not until he can send his younger self a letter that it will all be okay)

his only connection to other people his age were trey and che'nya

and on the occasions where trey was absent che'nya would 'teach riddle about the queendom of roses'

most of the time he fed him lies and riddle believed him

and most of the time riddle would yell at che'nya for being confusing and not clear enough

you can't just tell him that the hat man haunts him at night then reply with "what hat man?" when riddle asks for clarification

like !!! the hat man you just told him about !! (which gets him a reply of "who told you about?" damn you che'nya)

his favourite childhood memory was going out with them to get matching pins together

he still wears his little crown pin today!!

cats would frequently perch on his windowsill and riddle likes to watch them lounge in the sun and wonder what cats think about

(che'nya claims to know but riddle has never seen the beastman talk to a single cat)

but kitty-speak was riddle's first learned animal linguistic. he would practice by talking to the regular cat by the window

it stopped showing up for a while and then came back with four kittens and riddle smuggled them for a good... three anxiety-riddled hours before telling the cat their babies will be well taken care of with che'nya instead

riddle may had to give up those kittens that day but owning a pet cat will be in his future soon. #manifest

Trey

it was a massive game of follow the leader in the clover household

when mama clover was carrying flour over to the patisserie, you'll see the mini clovers carrying small bowls and utensils to help

easy bake oven user

but he was ass at it

legend says his unique magic manifested at age 10 when it was mommas birthday and he baked a really shitty cookie, so he prayed to the queen that his mum would think it tasted nice and it did :D

his siblings took a bite out of the rest of the batch and wretched very dramatically

had his hands full trying to convince che'nya to not eat the glass he found on the sidewalk because it 'looks crunchy'

in fact, whenever talking to adults, trey never refers to che'nya by his nickname but his entire full name. he just wants you to know!! also che'nya is a nickname for friends and family >:(

trey's room has always been free reign for his other siblings, they treat it like a common room

why? mostly because they don't have permission to do anything fun without supervision but big brother trey can to be their supervision :)) right :)))

the clover household is no longer shocked by che'nyas abrupt presence in their house. he seems to favour a certain corner of the house and most of the material on trey's bed

theres usually an extra set of utensils by their table in case che'nya appears. there used to be two extra sets but.. you know🫠

his siblings started a game of hiding as many rubber ducks in trey's room without him noticing

but after they permanently clogged the pipes of the toilet with their duckies, they switched to ugly stickers all over trey's bicycle

howEVER, it happens to be their bicycle now because trey outgrew it and had to get a new one. have fun cleaning the stickers :D

unofficial designated seats at the table and in the family car. real fights have broken out over the siblings because of these spots

still fears basketballs to this day because his brother threw one and trey happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and he woke up with the wrong accent. oh, and a concussion

Cater

all brands but barbie was ruined for caycay

his sisters used him as a mannequin to practice makeup

he had extremely elaborate revenge plans to pin them on the other sister but would get his ass whooped if he was caught

of course, that never stopped him from being extremely crafty to get out of trouble :)

referring to himself in third person cutely was a learned behaviour for survival™

it never worked in his household but it surely worked with other kids his age

collecting pity points but at what cost

had a girlfriend on club penguin for two months and got publicly dumped on club penguin

banned from club penguin because he wouldnt leave her alone and she reported him

sold off his sisters rainbow looms

those kids that are cognitively gifted such as he thought the people in the tv were trapped in there and then asked his mom if they were also in a tv and trapped

whenever dad worked in the office, cater would sit in the big boss chair and 'help', which meant that he was sorting coins and bills based off colour

he also told his dad to wash the money because it looked dirty on the corners

whenever he and his sisters played together, they'd tried to open the compartments of their toys and cater had so much fun with the screwdriver and taking stuff apart

also owned a joint notebook with his sisters. there would be things like poems, drawings, and the hair of ruined barbie dolls taped inside

cater has his own journal though, and he composes very emo poems in there. all written in glitter gel pen. cater would later look back on these and cringe but the more you read, the more you kinda get into it. it is a tad bit profound... for an eight year old, that is

Ace

demented ass doll player

his version of fun was making his dolls de-limb each other and throw them into a big pit to summon his darth vador figurine

whatever in-game ace is, that was his brother except he was significantly worse

my boy ace was the number 1 victim of big bro trappola

ate brown paint chips, which was 'chocolate' according to his brother

was locked inside the bathroom while his brother whispered bloody mary into the walls

sat through horror movies to prove he was a big boy and shit his pants when his brother recreated the jumpscares in the middle of the night

until he got a little older and started outsmarting him

now the trappola brothers team up to terrorize everyone else

its a competition for the brothers to compete over who can spoil the plot of which movie first

weaponized the slap bracelets

sucked milk out of plushies. no i will not elaborate

he's a jump rope champion! and it carries over to those skipper hoops as well

he does prefer the skipper hoops over the rope simply because there are um... ankle shattering consequences if you miss a jump, which meant it was perfect for sharing with the neighbourhood kids! gotta keep those stakes high, ya know?

tried to do a lot of magic tricks to impress papa trappola

made his brother take him to the amusement park and big bro got MAD tips because everyone thought ace was so cute, and quote unquote 'an angel'

like NO HES NOT???? if only big brother trappola knew ace picked up his charisma from him😭

Deuce

grew up with 80s movies, he thinks every that happens in those movies are true stories

he was always presented with old gadgets to 'fix' so its now something he can do pretty well; restoring old devices

the kids his age thought he was like wayyy too old fashioned, like born in the wrong generation

bike kid. if he wasnt inside he was on wheels

he kept a barbie doll in his bike basket and always made sure she wore her helmet (she was the bike guard)

slept with eggs and held them in his hands hoping to hatch a baby chick

thinks teachers live at the school

super sweet child. he's the first at the other kids' side if they got hurt

at the same time he is the biter kid. especially on fathers day

loves reading stories with grandma. whenever she came over, he would bring her a book

he'd also stick around the kitchen and try to see what she was doing. he thought that maybe he could learn to cook a few things by himself so they had more time together

in times like these he would be internally angry at his father because?? grandma is always working, mum is always working, fuck that guy specifically.

easter is his favourite holiday. his family have a tradition of egg painting and deuce used to hide caramel candies in them because grandma liked them

best helper kid around. will hold the dustpans and stuff while Dilah was sweeping

knew the names of all the trucks his mum drove and also a lot of the mechanical part names

had a habit of accidentally breaking things like clocks so he learned quickly how to fix them back up

his grandma takes him shopping for stamps so deuce can send mail to his house, addressed to his mum

Leona

parkour child

bounced all around the palace, climbing the trees outside and everything. gotta keep those claws sharp

before his father fell ill, the kingscholar family used to have lil picnics with Kifaji outside

without fail, leona would always find the highest seat or a nice sun rock to rest upon

unconsciously, even now, leona finds immense comfort in sun rocks

followed his brother around everywhere

when he couldn't catch up, Falena would give him piggy back rides while he was going about his day

asked him many questions bc hes curious about the world

would ask him difficult questions he already knew the answer to just to see Falena struggle lol

whenever tiny leona got tuckered out, his brother would carry him back to bed in lieu of the servants

leona insisted on sitting in the conference room with his dad to gain insight on how kingdom affairs were run

papa kingscholar agreed since it would be good exposure for them, and leona was the one who took notes, Falena would point out the participants at the table and quietly introduce them to leona

ruined the lives of people he played chess with. imagine being bested by a nine year old in chess. the shame.

after Falena got married, leona shifted his studies from maintaining amicable kingdom relationships to medicinal research and ancient curses

the palace staff thought it was out of malice, but leona wanted to focus more on the properties of magic now

(and also, well, based on the new target on his brother, his new sister-in-law, and his nephew, there can never be too many precautions..)

even when he was a tiny child he did whatever he fancied

his servants may have told him that tending to a servant's hair was below his stature but that only made him sneakier when making tiny braids in Kifaji's hair

git gud g

Ruggie

another crafty child

aye, when it depends on your survival, you learn to use those legs of yours to run like the wind

even worse he was a small ass child so he was hard to find

snuck into schools and pretended he could talk to ghosts and charged the kids a quarter to talk to a ghost for them

mental math god. from multiplication to geometry and time, ruggie knows the most efficient ways to get the job done, as well as a few backup plans

would sew up little felt dolls for his neighbourhood friends

left the house to do a bunch of odd jobs and picked up quite a few languages, which meant even more jobs all around, and now he has some pretty unique talents

like, he can preform acrobat tricks! and he can also paint a house upside down. oh, and he can travel quickly on one foot! (don't ask)

oh yeah, ruggie had a huge slime stand

he would make so much slime and sell it off and it made mad bucks but he also absolutely hated slime. what a good waste of detergent and glue, honestly... >:(

and people wanted them different colours and with charms and the like. at least it was a thriving market, but ruggie cannot stand the sight of slime ever since he retired from the slime scene

really liked rubiks cubes because it was like painting a little puzzle. also, when the children got bored of it, they would try to detach the squares and put them on the faces they desired

it was so funny to watch because they will use the oddest tools and tricks to dislodge the squares (like tying a shoelace around a square and trying to tug it off like you do with baby teeth)

ruggie also made lots of origami as seasonal decor :D his grandma really like the flowers and birds he would fashion

this IS canon but i want you to know that he would take the neighbourhood kids and rotate the group around houses in different costumes to get more halloween candy. everyone stan ruggie

Jack

he has younger siblings so his sense of justice was in his personality wayy back then

got to be an exemplar big bro for them💪

whenever they were playing castle, jack was always the princess because his sister wanted to be the heroic knight

if you asked jack, he would say that his sister only wanted to be the knight as an excuse to beat the shit out of his brother

wanted piercings but couldnt get them pierced so his sister gave him sticker earrings

they did not work nor stick very well but he loved him

let his siblings bite him, it seems to be their preferred mode of affection

sometimes they will wordlessly enter his room just to bite him and chill

often had playdates with vil when he was home

jack still doesn't quite know what the difference was between all these water brands vil was showing him but the spirit is there

oftentimes vil was alone in the house so the two played grown up and cooked by themselves

vil had told his dad that they were married because jack would come over and had sleepovers a lot

jack has a big green thumb. he wanted to plant a garden but he started with succulents first because they are notoriously hard to kill

by now he's ready to advance but every time he goes to get different plants, he comes back with more succulents haha

the plants under jack's care are happy enough to bloom flowers, and he gives them to his mama

if vil learned a spell, he would teach jack and vice versa. the BIGGEST supporters of each other. friendship is magic, guys

the first time they learned colour changing spells was an entire mess and vil was bawling in a panic by the end of it because they dyed Eric Venue's favourite couch bright blue and didn't know how to reverse it

jack wanted to call vil's dad to tell him but he ended up calling the wrong number and thought they were in trouble so he ended up bawling too

whenever vil wasn't in the class, no doubt jack is going to question his whereabouts

oddly, jack and neige have never interacted and only found out about vil being their mutual friend well into their teen years

Azul

like ruggie, was a master hider

unless he wants to be found, you will never find him

learned how to read earlier than kids his age because he wanted to prove he could spell big words to his mama

he may have cried a lot as a kid but do you know what that means? FREE black paint!! SUCK IT, PLEBS.

my boy was an astounding artiste, its why hes so creative with getting his way

azul is a visual learner, and always finished books a little slower because he REALLY analyzes all the pictures like downright dissects it

his grandma suggested art as a way to express himself while also making sense of the world around him

even though he thinks his old drawing of him and the twins is outdated in terms of his skill level now, he has a sentimental attachment to it and keeps it in his room always

trading trinkets was a common thing between the trio aka the twins would pop by

mama ashengrotto adored the twins bc they adored azul('s mom that is)

also inherited a beautiful singing voice from mama ashengrotto. he and his grandma would bond by playing the piano and singing. sometimes, they'd do a little show at his mom's restaurant

red hair was seen as very attractive in the coral sea and he very regrettably colour-magicked his hair

it was not the shade he wanted, but he was curious on what was, so with the many complex spells he learned at his age, he experimented with different lengths, colours, and styles until he restored it back to its original form

there remains one surviving picture of his red hair and it is kept in his stepdad's wallet (because its the only place azul wouldn't look!)

no azul is not aware pictures of his redhead era even exist

Jade

loved to weave necklaces and bracelets using shells and plants

gave a lot of necklaces made of sharks teeth to his family and azul because those are valued good luck charms!

it might also be because he loved to hunt sharks but he pretends thats not the reason :)

wandered off all the time and floyd always had to drag him back home before night

hes a curious boy, wanted to explore everything around him, especially the dangerous places

child leashes don't work in the sea but im sure mama and papa leech would have loved to have one anyway

was the main reason why he and his brother have separate rooms

too many petty "stop leaving your mess on my side (of the room)" and hissy fights had mama and papa leech mad

things definitely settled after they had separate rooms

sometimes if he got into trouble he would pretend he was floyd and sent his parents off to look for "jade"

highkey never worked but it never stopped him from trying

started a new method of using tears and his parents were more lenient with him after so he realized he can get away with things if he shed a few tears

he can cry on command and this is his primary weapon if scaring people off didnt work

will then pin it on the other party as if he didn't enable the fight

straight up told floyd lies growing up, that the pufferfish would crawl inside his ears when he sleeps, or that floyd was 'allergic' to seahorses, or that in order to get an angler mer to go away, floyd had to use bioluminescence

this carried over to land as well except jade didnt know whether his words were true or not he just straight up made things up

was also a very very sickly child. got ill extremely easily and is much more sensitive to temperature or water pressure changes

esp during pollen season? jade is gonna lose those lungs he just acquired from sneezing and coughing

Floyd

grade A hoarder

he sees something he likes? he's bringing it back home

unlike at NRC, the twins have separate rooms so the entire space is filled with a bunch of floyd's knickknacks (its why jade is always mad)

as soon as hes done playing with one he's found something else on his swims so his room is 80% things lying around

and when jade stole said knickknacks claiming it was his turn to play thats when floyd suddenly claimed that mermaid doll (that he highkey forgot existed) was his prized possession

back off jade thats his property😡

when he was younger, he loved looking and behaving exactly like jade, but as he got older he valued being his own person instead of an X2

is actually legitimately the older sibling by a few minutes and deliberately decides whether its his privilege or not whenever he can

but as soon as "because you're the oldest" is said he claims that none of them are older because they were born on the same day

to the outsider, it sounds like floyd is feeding jade a heap load of bs, but he likes gathering trivia and wording it so it *sounds* fake but really isnt

like that seahorses give birth via baby explosion

one exception to this rule is that floyd is constantly changing the story of how he met jade

one instance it was that they found each other, another was that some kid kept begging him for food and that later their mom said that was his sibling, other times, jade had allegedly died before floyd used his awesome magic to revive him

most of the time floyd tells jade that a whale shat him out and whatever came out of it looked so deformed and floyd thought jade was so soppy pathetic (in a cute way) so he brought him home

jade never tries to refute nor confirm any of these allegations but when the last story gets told he's always a little more passive aggressive with floyd that day

Kalim

sickly victorian child #2

its from all the poison attempts

and as a result he may or may not have tried mithraism so maybe its worse than we think😭

allergic as hell to bug bites too like someone please give them a electric racket

hide and seek is banned from the Asim household

at that point in his life, kalim had a good 6-7 siblings and letting them loose in a big household AND telling them to hide is a recipe for disaster

it was almost impossible for him to get in trouble too because no one was about to scold the heir of the house

workers of the Asim palace were absolutely not going to scold him and his parents had like fourteen other more rambunctious younger children

but don't be fooled, kalim is a very good seeker when it matters! he can spend hours focused on finding something important, so those hide and seek games were banned for a VERY good reason when kalim was out at night searching and didn't return the next morning (meaning he got childnapped)

oh, whats a little kidnapping but a minor setback? hes fine and in one piece, the doctor triple-checked! anyways, who's ready for another round of hide and seek??

every now and then, kalim falls victim to the good ole' midnight hour and kitchen scissors hair disaster. no, no one learns

the birds and random animals in the Asim park (that's right, his private park..) all have names and kalim visits them often to befriend them

he's learned around a total of eight languages and he will personally translate (with jamil as the scribe) his own books so he can teach his younger siblings

even remembers all their favourite hobbies, genres, activities, etc, etc

the Asim children all have one thing in common and that is their love for bubbles, but who doesn't?

kalim spends time in the nrc lab to create the perfect bubble solution with big, long lasting bubbles. trust.

remembers faces, names, and even birthdays very well. you can always bet on kalim to wish a servant or one of his tutors a happy birthday!

to kalim, having someone know your name and be happy to see you is very important! so he wants his loved ones, guests, and servants to feel appreciated, especially on their very special days :)

Jamil

has the immune system of god he has survived all of the flu seasons without catching it himself

he and kalim played in the bird houses often

taught the parrots a bunch of silly words and phrases

Najima taught one of the parrots to only refer to jamil as 'stinky'

he and Najima claim they look nothing alike even though kalim and everyone else insists its true

the two siblings fought over particular hairbands while sitting next to an entire selection of them💀

Najima loved to fight over things that jamil wanted first just for the victory

yeah, even in childhood jamil never got a break. as if the universe would give him that

we all heard the silly goofy story of jamil shuffling around under a vase thinking he was all sneaky and shit. he has many more stories like this

such as climbing in trees (he only got stuck twice!), wrapping himself in cloth and slithering on the ground (very conspicuous!!), again, draping himself in fabric and trying to blend in with the walls (with a 50% chance of success) etc, etc.

he is SO good at hiding and has so many secret spots around Asim palace, trust him.

Najima?? literally sent him a picture of curry for his birthday to celebrate. the two constantly send each other a bunch of pictures of random rocks, disfigured trash, and all sorts of unsavory things with the caption 'look its you'

while other servants were renovating Asim palace, they told the kids not to run around, because someone could crack their head if they fell off the ladder/the ladder fell on them

so, like the curious kids they were, jamil, Najima, kalim, and a few of his siblings camped around the construction zone waiting for someone's skull to break

its just morbid curiosity, they weren't wishing ill upon anyone

Vil

'don't carry me! i can walk by myself!' but in a way to convince his dad to pick him up

loved being carried around but would never admit to it

partook in many sweets as a kid even though he limits himself now

had a tradition with neige to make hot chocolate every thursday after school. in the warmer seasons, they switched to making their own fruit juice with the blender

from whole kiwis, to sweet potatoes, and ginger roots, it evolved to throwing random things in the machine to see what kind of funky juice would be made

our dear Eric Venue thinks this is so cute he has no problem with it as long as they dont waste food and clean up after. it would be a good habit to learn

plus vil looks so happy because he thinks operating a blender is such a grown up thing to do

1000% ate things he wasn't supposed to

the lipsmacker smelled so good though :(

when he failed a spelling bee and didnt want his papa to be disappointed in him the most logical thing in his seven year old mind was to eat the test

ripped it up and munch munched on the paper

and that had been his primary solution to bad grades until he was able to get in a good study technique (that, and his stomach rejecting the paper)

HORRENDOUS handwriting and it was because he tried to trick himself into being left-handed for a good portion of his life because the Beautiful Queen was left-handed >:(

also had trouble with enunciation from learning very big words. Eric can understand him but a bit of speech therapy and musical training helped

(if you're lucky, you'll still hear hints of it when vil's extremely sleepy)

often made friendship bracelets with, like, no one to give them to

traded a few with jack because vil taught him how to make them. jack thought that they would be a nice thing to give to the rest of his family, and made a few for vil in exchange

Rook

you think him crawling around on the dirt was a recent thing? hell no this was a learned childhood behaviour

he may not have had a bow back then but he had rocks and a will to play

and by will to play i mean he would pelt a lot of things with rocks

his old teachers had to placate him by teaching him how to skip stones on the lake for every one else's safety

only members of his own family were willing to play hide and seek with him

mostly because he is a terrifying seeker. you hide in the bushes and not two seconds later you hear those loud ass military grade boots stomping in your direction

ik no one wanted to play hide & seek with his ass. he only got worse after he developed his unique magic

helped paint his family's nails bc he had such a precise hand

its probably the nail polish fumes that made him this way. among 10 million other things

you know how kids would give each other cards and lolipops on valentines day?

well, on heart's day, rook would have drawn a picture of all his recipients and attach a cool leaf or flower to it

its very adorable and extremely thought out. his old recipients still think of him to this day (real)

rook had very nice penmanship even at a young age. he started by replicating his fathers handwriting and liked the flow of cursive and flair of a signature (rook has made a lot of personal signatures for himself)

had a wax stamp phase where he would dry out and collect a bunch of flowers and presses to make wax stamps

he still is crazy about wax stamps but now he can carve his OWN presses with his OWN knife 👍👍

made homemade twisttube videos at home with his siblings. they range from movie scene recreations, lip sync videos, or full on original scripts

be assured that the costumes, lighting, acting, and editing were rather top tier for their age, and it is because rook's family is exuberant like him (all cutie pies!!)

Epel

mud pie maker

he and the chickens in his village go wayyy back

didn't need animal linguistics to understand the clucks

uhh hey did anyone else have the experience of having pet chickens and then having them disappear and reappear on the dinner table??

im not saying it happened but im also not saying it didn't happen

he does brush his hair. the only reason he hates it when vil brushes his hair is that he feels like his scalp is getting scraped off

the only way to get epel to bathe was to use those three-in-ones because he would never sit still

those children that get dirty thirty minutes after you bathe them. sigh

overlined his lips with his ma's lipstick because ma used it to look nice before going to sell their produce, and epel wanted to help with sales this time. you can probably guess what happened after

the dislike for cosmetics is lifelong

(he did apologize by picking a handful of dandelions for his ma)

adrenaline junkie through and through. as soon as his legs were long enough to touch the pedal, he'd be operating the forklifts and in no way was it safe or responsible

fed the birds with seeds meant for their garden. they were hungry :(

fiddled around with the stray instruments on rainy days, now he can play in perfect harmony during celebrations with his relatives

epel has perfect pitch. destined for pomefiore all along <3

epel did not fear bees. he has potential for being a beekeeper but he didn't want to wear the bee suit

learned how to read and write very early in because he wanted to help out around the village. epel put checkmarks to confirm shipments and things

a bunch of his drawings are hung around the home

'helped' his grandma Marja knit by using the needle to stab the ball of yarn she needs to hand it to her

Idia

banning him from anything was impossible

locking your kids away from the cookie jar would work for anyone but idia. and not for the spiteful reason you think

makes him want to do it more because its interesting enough to stimulate his genius little brain

at that point he doesn't even want the cookie anymore

doing mental gymnastics to exploit loopholes. having a remote controlled airplane fetch him a cookie isn't going against his parents' word because technically he never touched the jar at all

which leads to extremely specific rules established in the shroud household

some notable ones include "severed limbs are only allowed in the staff freezers on halloween" and "no hacking the automated showers to chase down staff member C for thinking Premo are cuter than ortho"

his minecraft boyfriend broke up with him after they built their house together

it doesnt end there though, it never does. ortho took control of the pc to burn down the house and idia also got them banned. never underestimate the rage and revenge spirit of a child scorned

you know that thing about a devil and an angel on the shoulders? well, ortho was 90% the enabler for Bad Behaviour

and mostly because if idia was thinking of doing something, chances are, ortho was already doing said something

the S.T.Y.X staff often with the brothers were usually roped into playing video games and were happy to listen to whatever the boys felt like talking about

idia would bring new inventions to them and play a guessing game of what they think the function was

ortho stunk really bad at building things from scratch, but he was pretty good at memorizing the names of the parts to help idia

idia would ask the staff to take them to the observatory often. they would learn all about the constellations and idia liked to chart how they changed through the seasons

Ortho

his parents mostly had him because idia always got too creative when he was bored and thought having a new baby in the family would help idia fix up his behaviour, you know, be a good role model for ortho and all

... turns out, ortho would be pulling idia into all sorts of mischief. and worst of all, he ALWAYS GOT AWAY WITH IT.

he is tiny but mighty

lots of attitude in this little body

his favourite word was 'why'

him and idia had new nicknames for each other all the time

some of the time they were just kid things, most of the time they were a prize

whoever clears the extreme level with the highest score gets to make the other call him a nickname of their choosing

his received nicknames included such like "cosmic warrior", "lord of the shadow realm", and "the almighty" (when he beats idia's high score... after 5 losses in a row that is)

has no problem hacking the main S.T.Y.X system then blaming it on the employees for having weak security (some bs like 'im six and managed to break into the most secure network')

im sorry but i can't deny it. yes, ortho is an ipad kid and yes his ipad was disgusting

except ortho actually does listen to cyber security and he didn't have the passcode lock, he had the password lock, and it was changed every other week

(idia has accidentally locked the ipad on several occasions trying to guess the overly complicated password)

insane attachment in the sense that he will make up some bs reason (AND a forged research paper to further solidify it) on why he can't be separated from idia

if he were actually surrounded by children his age, just know ortho would've been the biter kid

weaponizes his cuteness just like jade but in a more ^^🌸 way

in these cases he will only refer to himself in third person because it pulls the most heartstrings

tugging on idias sleeves and telling him "ortho wants a cookie" had yielded better results for him than "i want a cookie"

and ortho is nothing if not a very smart boy

Malleus

fully believed that eating the seeds of watermelons would cause one to grow in your stomach

grandma Malificia found it too funny to correct him and to this day malleus still believes it

1/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. whenever lilia tried to make him take his bath he would spit fire

(until lilia let him play with the bubbles that was)

when he was a little kid and knew he was in trouble, he would hide in all sorts of places and pout

except he sucked at it. his hiding skill was between "if i dont see you, you cant see me", or his tail would be poking out behind the couches

usually the servants would turn the other way unless it was an emergency. because if malleus was found by anyone but the Queen or lilia, he'd have a toddler tantrum (he thinks they gave up on him)

spent most of his early days finding comfy nesting places or hunting for shiny things. there was nothing but Instinct in his little noggin until he could transform into a bi-pedal form

every day, without fail, he would get his horns stuck in something and throw a fit over it

testiest kid to ever test. when you tell mal he can't do something he'll do it bc he wants to understand why he can't do it

wanted to help grow the roses in his garden faster by summoning a thunderstorm that lasted three days and three nights

whatever tantrums you think malleus throws now are the most mild ones in his entire life

a younger malleus would summon entire hurricanes unknowingly and he would screech and babble in old fae tongue

a non-briar valley resident could easily mistake this for a demon summoning, but this is a normal tuesday in the palace

TRUST, malleus' temper is the tamest ever in the entire draconia lineage

the palace staff actually thank the witch of thorns for her mercy because this tantrum only burnt the entire east wing of the castle to the ground. the young prince is so tame !!

Lilia

straight out of a horror movie, this one

has the long dark hair and only wore long white dresses to really complete the look

loves walking around bare foot to connect with nature. that dress will be smeared with mud, fur, and berry juice (that were always red or purple tones, to everyones horror)

you all have lilia to thank for the inspiration to this horror trope

im talking wandering around in the dark, glowing magenta eyes, which appear red at times

sits SO still when its story time and the story is ancient curses and tomes

was also the kid that claimed they had a ghost friend and that his peers were being mean to "billy"

and no his family was probably the exact same way tbh

the fae are sturdy and lilia went without supervision for days

its quite a normal thing in his household

lilia would be fighting real ass ghosts in diapers and his mom would be cheering him on

the streaks are not from a goth phase but it was more of a 'the fruit juice in cranberries make really nice paint did you know??'

he also really loves tomato juice and it happens to be pretty too, so, why not?

it was originally red streaks but faded and he liked the pink better

one day he packed his bags and told his parents he was going to live in the afterglow savanna and his mom straight up joined him in packing

i like to believe that lilia did have edible food as a child but the army just ruined his tastebuds for Ever bc at that point, food was only a substance needed to live, it didn't have to be enjoyable

yeah, anyway it would be super funny if lilia's parents were good chefs, but lilia legit cannot tell the different between salt, flour, and white glitter

lilia was scooped up by Malificia mostly for his skill but it really turned out to be a glorified playdate for Meleanor

the princess was a mENACE and lilia could take her thunderbolts a bit better than the rest of her servants

(meaning that lilia was the only one that wouldn't be screaming bloody murder, he just would be hella mad and Meleanor thinks his audacity is funny)

Silver

lilias method of feeding him was waterboarding him with milk and that does not come without consequences

although lilia would go out often, its safe to say that silver was never really 'alone'

lilia would have a magical beacon on him at all times even if mal was babysitting, and he appreciates that the wildlife took a liking to silver

speaking of, silver had no concept of stranger danger no matter how much lilia told him so

every time malleus would come over silver would ask him to play murder mystery with his dolls

his first word was an attempt at malleus' name

they played together a lot it was really inevitable

helps worms and snails when it rains by helping them get under tree stumps or grass

played with axes & garden shears (thanks lilia)

2/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. and by that i mean he gave lilia a haircut with garden shears (that lilia fully encouraged so silver could 'build his repertoire of skills')

at this point lilias hair length was more of a liability since his sons loved to tug on it and one had a penchant for burning it

take your eyes off silver for one second and he's gone. he saw an ant, a bird, a cool statue, etc etc

loved all the fairytales lilia read him and always asked to be read the ones where true love reigned

him and malleus ran off together (more like mal whisked silver away) everywhere to play and explore

mal loved to show silver the most random things and he would always speak to him like a grown up

would often protest at the end of the day because he didn't want to part ways with him

their earlier conversations looked like mal was listening to silver say something profound even though all silver could do at the time was babble in toddler language with the occasional 'tar-tar' (no one knows what this is but malleus insists that silver is telling him he's hungry)

Sebek

beat the shit out of rocks with sticks

in the colder seasons, and and silver would find rocks or big ice pieces to smash on the ground

poor dude grew up confused as heck. lilia tells him lots of things, and he goes home and his parents tell him a different thing

complained about going to the dentist so much that now silver knows so much about the teeth structure of fae

his siblings love him so much, they're always doting on him and pinching his cheeks and that's why his smiles are so big and nice (real)

refused to eat anything on a fork. he hated the taste of metal

much preferred to use chopsticks. learned because he was a Big Boy now (he is one) and can help himself!!!!

unexplainable hatred for felt fabric. he used to melt all of his felt puppets in the water

him and silver dug a hole in lilia's backyard thinking they could make it to the shaftlands

they didn't make it to the shaftlands, but they dug too close to the river, so the hole filled up with water

and while silver panicked, sebek straight up burst into tears thinking the hole was going to drain the river

also burst into tears one halloween where lilia was dressed up and claimed he was the river spirit and didn't know anyone named sebek

ate a dog treat at some point but silver and malleus also joined him (not before malleus trolled sebek by saying he's going to turn into a dog now)

sebek was so distressed that he dragged malleus into it that he questioned his entire life because he loved playing with sticks. did he eat a dog treat earlier in his life???

when questioned, sebek told silver he didn't need to worry about the dog treat because he already drank milk like a puppy anyways (referencing the milk waterboarding, of course)

anyways, this incident ended in a stick-sword fight and malleus got a bonk on the head from lilia for his instigating

this is where sebek learned it btw. silver developed a thick skull because sebek is ALWAYS bonking him on the head for not knowing things he deems 'everyone should know'

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigmoose1964

[eggrollforyou]

How Can I Say I Love You

Law x F!Reader

WC: 1467

CW: angst to fluff, parental/parental figure loss, tooth aching fluff, minor Law backstory spoilers (if you're not caught up through Dressrosa), seems like an OC but I'm too lazy for that, so leader insert with the exception of hair descriptions 🤣, mutual pining, post time skip 

A/N: this was supposed to be a quick, cute thing, but that clearly got away from me. So I’ll be turning it into parts. Still cute, but apparently my brain had something else in mind. Readers and Law’s thoughts are in italics. Enjoy!

Three little words. Just three little words that seemed to hold so much weight, they'd change the trajectory of everything. Three little terrifying words that could mean the end, if unrequited. 

Far be it from Law to understand how the combinations of chemicals and electrical signals in the brain could have such a profound effect. He's known its highs but has experienced far more of its devastation. Was he cursed? Never able to express what he wanted to with you.

He first met you when you were both children. He, on the search for a cure for his disease with Corazon. You, another sick child, at one of the hospitals he was dragged to. “Hi, I'm (Y/N),” your small voice broke through the background buzz of the hospital chatter. Law turned around to see you sitting on the other side of the room, electric teal blue hair with a white streak framing your face. “Hmmph, yea, so what?” he grumbles indignantly. He hated hospitals. He was grateful for Cora-san to try to help him, but it was going nowhere. He pulled his knees into his chest and sulked while Corazon argued with the physician. “Are you sick?” you ask him, unphased by his grumpiness. Maybe that's why he's acting upset, maybe he just doesn't feel good. He must be sick like me, you think to yourself. “I'm sick too,” you get up to come closer to talk to the grumpiest little boy you've ever encountered and suddenly you fall to your knees in a coughing fit, unable to breathe. 

Law peeks his eyes over his knees, dark under the brim of his spotted hat, but showing concern that he quickly changes to a scowl, “You really shouldn't cough close to other people like that, you could get someone else sick,” he sneers. You finally regain your breath and sniffle. You were so tired of being here, no one to play with or talk to. Your mom had to work all the time to make ends meet and couldn't afford to take time off to be with you while you were admitted for treatment. 

So you spend your days alone with only nurses coming to check on you every couple hours. Your eyes were watering from the pain in your chest, but you continued, “I'm sorry. It's just SO boring here.” Law suddenly notices that you're alone. There's nothing to indicate an adult with you. It's just you and a stuffed bear that was nearly falling apart from living a loved life. “I-I'm Law,” he mumbles. “Nice to meet you, Law!” your face lights up. “Wanna play tic-tac-toe?” you ask, picking up a piece of paper and a pencil. He begrudgingly agrees and scoots over to you. You play several games until suddenly, you hear screaming from hospital staff and a tall blonde man with a heart shirt and big black coat runs, scooping Law up and running away. Hospital staff screaming about Amber Lead disease and quarantines as they chase them. Suddenly, you were alone again. 

It seemed like fate that you both found each other again as teens. You were walking to the beach with your fishing rod. It was just you now. You woke that morning, hunger eating away at you. It had been a couple days since you ate. Managing to steal a fishing rod from a boat at the docks the day before, you got up to fish. You need to try your luck again. Whistling as you walked along the shore trying to reach a rocky outcrop that would let you cast further out, hoping to catch something, you grabbed your belly as it screamed its displeasure at you. 

Law, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were walking along the shore, trying to figure out where their next stop would be. Rounding a dune, he sees a girl walking with a fishing pole. Electric blue teal hair, pulled back in a braid with a white streak weaved in and out of the braid. Wait….who is that? I know that hair….could it be? he thinks to himself.

“Y/N?!” you hear someone call your name and you whip around looking for the source until you see that white spotted hat that you'll never forget. The same hat from that grumpy little boy in the hospital. “Law?!” You shout in surprise. He's not alone. In tow, he has a Mink companion, and two other boys- one with a penguin hat and the other with an orca hat. Law introduces you to his little band of misfits and you spend the rest of the day catching up. 

The others are asleep, but you and Law are still talking. You shed a tear that night when Law tells you Cora is gone. You never knew him, nor did you see their relationship, but you could see the hurt in his eyes. Even in the dim light put out by the campfire you're sitting by. Losing your mother, you knew the heavy feeling in your chest when you thought about her. “You should stay with us, we could always use the extra help,” he says with hope. “Yeah, that'd be great,” you smile back. Finally feeling some peace that your nights won't be so lonely. You travel with them for a couple years. Spending your days together on the loose, running wild, doing whatever you had to, to survive. You both would stay up in the early hours of the morning. Lying down looking at the stars, talking for hours holding hands, sharing your first kiss. You were inseparable. You loved that he found family again in Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. His heart had been through far too much, but he opened it for them. It made yours hurt less for him.

Those three little words. He felt it then with you. But his heart had been too broken, so he kept it guarded and close. Fearing what would happen to it if he uttered those words to you. Something he later regretted when you were separated again- on the run with no plan to regroup. A heist to survive, gone wrong. Law and the others managed to get to the boat you were stealing on time, but you were held up. Getting separated and then later caught by authorities. By the time you escaped, they were gone. You knew they had to leave. It hurt, but you couldn't blame them. You feared this was the end of your time with Law again. Ending abruptly like when you two met.

One of his biggest regrets was never telling you how he felt. Now he feared he would never get the chance. But it seemed the universe had different plans again. Law and his crew, the Heart Pirates, were restocking on an island- a simple routine stop. He surely wasn't looking for trouble as he was walking through the market, perusing the stalls brimming with vendors and customers alike. It was a busy morning, loud with laughter and bartering, but Law had his fill of the market. Having found a rare coin, he pocketed his purchase after paying the vendor. Making his way back to the ship, the voices grew quieter the further away he walked. He gave the crew the afternoon off, but as the captain, he had a pile of work to do. More reports, endless medical journals to read, he had a plan to start a pot of coffee and sit down in his sanctuary, his office on the Polar Tang.

The quiet abruptly ended and suddenly shouting and scrambling was coming from the market. “Stop her! Stop that thief!” a vendor screamed. Law merely peeked over his shoulder but didn't stop, it was none of his concern. As he rounded a corner leading to a bay where they were hiding the Tang, he was suddenly stopped. A woman running around the same corner slamming into his chest and bouncing back, “AHH! SHIT, watch it!” She bellowed. Law nearly stumbled over, with a scowl, ready to tear this person’s head off, he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. He's face to face with a woman with electric teal blue hair….with the signature white streak framing her face. “Y/N!?” He gasps. 

Your eyes are wide, you're stuck frozen in place. Law…. he's right here. In front of you again. But now, he's all grown up. You hardly recognize him. Tall, filled out, covered in tattoos it seems. You can only tell by his signature hat and his same tired, piercing eyes. “Gotta go!” you rush, spinning on your heel, carrying a bag of loot of things you clearly stole from the market and running toward the tree line along the path. Law reaches out, “Wait!” he calls out as he runs after you. 

Part Two

Thanks for reading! I'm pretty happy with this portion and am currently working on the remainder of it, but because my brain won't let me post anything less than what it perceives as perfect, it'll have to wait!

Did you like this? I'm flattered! Wanna read more? Here's my Masterlist!

Tags: @shy-writer-999

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[lordgeneralsix]

six's incomprehensible review of kcd2's writing

(I'll be honest this isn't as much of a proper review as i wish i could write, maybe one day i'll rewrite this with a newfound professionalism but for now i just wanted to make one big post on why I personally think the writing is so good in general as someone who appreciates the craft and studies it... everything under the cut for kcd1&2 spoilers. 4.1k words and divided for easier reading. thanks in advance for your time)

brief lore

so i've been playing kcd2 pretty much every day since it dropped, did my first playthrough in under 5 days with little sleep and let me tell you. I have been completely cured of everything that was causing me grief for the entirety of january which involved my own personal art/writing, and honestly this game dropped at a perfect time to rip me out of my self-induced misery.

despite my love for fantasy and historical settings, I didn't expect much when I first played kcd1. I thought it was just a medieval times war simulator for repressed men, but I had to give it a try. obviously, I'm glad I was wrong, and I actually realized this around the time you go back to skalitz for henry's parents and after I played theresa's dlc. I realized there might actually be care put into the writing, into the reality of war instead of glorifying it with another peasant-turned-knight story. kcd1 did an incredible job of immersing you into the role of henry, an average peasant, son of a blacksmith. he's not some secretly skilled dragonborn waiting to be awakened to save the world, he's just a boy who was thrown into the fray years before he was ready... kcd1 was good. i really enjoyed playing it and experiencing such a unique game. it was an impressive ambition especially with the limited budget they had. maybe it could stand to be condensed, but as an act 1 it's incredibly engaging at the beginning and end, creating a strong foundation and lot of anticipation for kcd2.

authenticity is king

what makes a good story? a question that can be debated until the end of time. its complicated. its simple. its completely subjective. but as corny as it sounds, the truth i believe is a good story has soul in it. it's something i will believe until i die. a good story has something to say, something that needs to be said no matter how silly or serious it is. and even if the result is ugly, bad art with soul will never truly be bad. and i'm not here to preach anything or glaze companies like warhorse and even larian, because no one is safe from criticism (i have especially torn into larian myself over certain issues), but this universal praise we see isn't undeserved, and we should celebrate the fuck out of good games when we get them.

kcd2, i believe, has easily become one of the greatest games of all time. and it's simply because, at its core, the writing of kcd is human. this is unfortunately something very easily forgotten when swept up in numbers and trends. but kcd is not trying to be something it isn't. the writers had a very clear vision of the story they wanted to tell from the start and made absolutely 0 sacrifices for trends and culture wars.

the writing is mature, it respects your intelligence and doesn't have to spell everything out. serious moments actually feel tense, the humour is woven in well without being out of place, and something i consider a true miracle is that they don't force quippy lines out of every character. the dialogue is believable enough where it's not too incomprehensibly archaic or too jarringly modern. the characters are not all that self aware and don't pull therapy speak out of their asses. every single character has depth from the major characters to even the minor npcs. the world is so full of personality and charm that i didn't mind sitting around with npcs to just listen to them talk about their mundane lives or observe their daily routines. i even found myself caring about the most insignificant npcs. like i failed the fight dirty quest bc i banished hired hand stanley to hell for bullying my boy tobias 'darling' and his dog. such a minor npc but i felt like i had to do something to help even if the game didn't acknowledge it. and to me, if a game makes you feel something and follows you well after it's over, it's doing something right.

at the time of writing this i'm on my 3rd playthrough. 200+ hours and i'm still discovering new npcs, dialogue, quests, locations, and outcomes. 2.2 million words sounds like too much, it makes you wonder if its justified, but i can confidently say it is. warhorse made no sacrifices to be like other games. their vision remained strong from beginning to end, and now if they so choose to, kcd3 has a very strong foundation and limitless potential for henry's story to branch off into. and if not, i have no doubt whatever warhorse writes next, whether it's about henry, medieval bohemia, or another historical setting completely, will be a masterpiece.

wait... you're just like me?

every single character in kcd has flaws and some fuck up immensely, which many people might be annoyed w but it's something I love and find lacking in a lot of stories. you can't pin a single character down as "good" or "evil" and they put an emphasis on this when confronting istvan, erik, markvart, drinking w the cumans, staying in trosky, exposing semine, spying on the praguers, and through a bunch of minor npc conflicts... all of these situations are not clear-cut and every single character involved have reasons for fighting, and you fear the prospect that they're right.

what do you do when the enemy looks and feels like you do? how do you judge someone in any way that matters without condemning yourself too? the game asks questions and does not give you an answer. at least not one that will satisfy everyone. such is life. and that's what i love about this game. i love when writers aren't afraid to make their characters so viscerally human. I love how no one is immune to their desires, to all the fuck ups and deception. everyone is bound to fuck up no matter how careful they are. fuck ups that seem so easily avoided if they did one thing differently or were more cautious of who they worked with. you'd think even the most cunning and experienced could avoid it but even they mess up, and kcd doesn't try to show off or give anyone immunity in manipulation and morality. it's as markvart said, "under all the armour and finery you will only ever find a man" (and my god, what a scene. I believe the entire conversation w markvart is the heart of the story. but my words won't do it justice, please go watch it it's incredibly written and acted).

so... why did i care about some npc with 3 lines enough to fail a quest and risk getting arrested for him? well, because his story hit home. it's a rarity that writers care enough about the little people to show the beauty of the mundane and the humanity of even the most revered. kcd breaks the illusion that people in the past were so different from us today and tells us point blank that we are here today because the fight for life and love is endless.

things worth living for

kcd puts you into the body of a boy who had everything taken from him, and from the moment he regains consciousness he's ready to throw himself back at the enemy to avenge his parents. it's a pretty hopeless thing to do. what can one blind man do against an army? what can one weary woman do in the ruins of her home but try to save at least one more soul, even at the cost of her own? kcd shows the gruesome and hopeless reality of war... but it also does a good job of showing the importance of people.

henry has few people left in his life, but two haunt the corners of his mind; his parents, we know this very well. they are the driving force of why he fights and they remain important instead of being used as fuel for his story. it may seem insignificant, but i really appreciate that they didn't pull a "radzig didn't want henry or care about henry's mother and lied to martin the whole time" and "martin abandoned sara and samuel for another family", i feel it would've been too much for henry to have more guilt and anger over his parents and then a tense relationship w radzig/samuel on top. what would be the point in learning about his real father and step brother, only to end up resenting them? there's a lot of dark shit going on and it's good to have some genuine familial relationships once in a while.

there's no malicious reason why martin and radzig couldn't raise their biological sons, and if they could, they would have, but they tried to do the best they could for henry given the circumstances, and you wouldn't even doubt for a second that martin would've loved sam if things were different. it's bittersweet and feels real. there's no need for a big plot twist of "martin was a bad man actually" after everyone spoke so fondly of him. and i appreciate that warhorse doesn't pull plot twists out of nowhere. it's good that henry has hans, sam, radzig, and godwin to rely on and untainted memories of his parents. it's good that despite everything, henry is able to hold onto the blue skies overhead, green grass underfoot, beautiful girls, good wine, a few good friends, and a fine steed under his backside.

... speaking of godwin, i want to briefly mention just how good of a secondary pov character he was. when i first played i was a little confused as to why him, mostly bc i didn't drink w him in the first game so i didn't know shit about him. but godwin makes a very compelling and fun secondary pov character as a noble war veteran turned priest that has absolutely no involvement in henry's life aside from drinking with him once but is now compelled to look out for him simply because he likes him (and bc it was asked of him but he does care shh). and it's not like his purpose was to babysit henry the whole time, he's given his own personal obstacles when he has to face his father in raborsch, who berates him in front of everyone with no shame, to the italian job where his father finally acknowledges that he was wrong about godwin. kcd2 gives this hedonistic priest a whole new layer of depth one couldn't have deduced based off his behaviour from the first game. it's truly incredible to see how a little care can go really far for even the most seemingly unimportant npcs like godwin or even liechtenstein. all in all, i really enjoyed playing as godwin and he was the perfect choice for a secondary pov character.

i could go on forever about the supporting characters, but i need to move onto the elephant in the room now: henry and hans.

those guys

henry and hans are so fascinating to me. it's been a good while since i've seen such deep and complex characters where even their failures are exciting to witness because you just know this will only strengthen them as people. the reason why, for me at least, it means a lot that warhorse wrote such a beautiful relationship between two men is bc they're written as people first. henry and hans are two characters that Can stand on their own but become stronger together. two young men who come from completely different worlds find comfort in each other's presence despite the laws of man and god saying it can't be so.

you can see something shift between them as early as the hunting trip. a trip that was a punishment for both turned out to be what they needed. to put aside their statuses and find common ground. hans asks about henry and skalitz, and empathizes with henry over the loss of his parents and reveals he never knew his own. you see something strange from the asshole who keeps humiliating and provoking you. you start to understand that all he really needed was for someone to understand him. not a mentor or guardian. not his subjects who drink and bathe with him on a whim. a friend. someone who sees him as a person worthy of his noble title and not a child or a drunk whore.

this newfound bond grows as you get up to typical teenage boy behaviour and in the span of a few weeks the haughty nobleman henry met just yesterday becomes a closer friend than his childhood friends fritz or matthew ever cared to be. but it doesn't end there. hans doesn't remain a pretty face and let everyone fight battles for him, and when it's time to take back talmberg his true character shows when he puts himself between the enemy to save tobias feyfar (when the trebuchet is attacked) or henry (if he gets knocked out during night raid). hans is willing to risk himself because he believes in justice as much as henry even though he came from a more privileged background. both of them were already incredibly noble men in the making and kcd2 tests how far they're willing to go for a place in the world.

it doesn't matter how you play him; henry remains the same sweet boy from skalitz underneath it all. the blacksmith's boy who comes home crying to ma with scrapes and bruises and big dreams, the lover and loyal friend, and the survivor who vowed to never run from a fight lest more innocents be slaughtered for his cowardice. he never forgot skalitz and he never stopped blaming himself. even if he has to push, even when he becomes just as bad as runt or istvan or the dry devil, it weighs on him. you can control his actions and his words, but you can't control how he feels at his core. even after all three of his goals have been achieved by the end of kcd2 (avenge his parents, get his sword back, and protect hans), he is still deeply hurt and laments getting lost in his path of vengeance. this guilt follows him into his dreams, justifying his actions becomes an uphill battle, and in the final conversation with his "parents" he can choose to repent and acknowledge that he has lost himself or double down and say he was always right. then he can choose to keep fighting, or finally present martin's sword to radzig and settle into the life he should've had back in skalitz...

there's no black or white answer, as the game often tells you, only action and consequence. and something I've noticed are the people who are a bit annoyed at how your choices throughout the game don't matter in the end since you can choose to say sorry and "everything is okay", but I don't see it that way really. it's not okay, why would it be? but everyone deserves a chance to repent, whether you personally believe it or not, and henry is arguably better than most for acknowledging his guilt and promising to do better. life doesn't end at the first sin. you could always become just as bad as the enemy or you could choose to be kind, merciful, and treat people with dignity.

as for hans. well... kcd2 happens because of him, because he desperately wanted to prove himself to hanush and his people that he was a capable ruler and warrior. he wasn't expecting it to be difficult, his confidence in the plan is the sole reason why it went so wrong. it was his fault they were ambushed despite henry's concern and he knows it. then he blows up at henry and runs off to fix it himself, which he would've succeeded in if von bergow hadn't played them. his comfortable view of the world was shattered and he couldn't accept it at first, but facing death multiple times and seeing henry risk it all for little reward built him back up as a braver and more responsible man to the point where he is unrecognizable from how he started in the first game. hans is reliable, brave, and capable of handling a lot more than people give him credit for. not a lot of noblemen would risk themselves so willingly, let alone for a peasant, and henry is actually lucky hans tolerated him and threw hands as equals instead of just sending him to jail and ending his journey quite early (henry is lucky a lot of noblemen put up w him lbr he does himself no favours lmao).

i find hans to be interesting because he isn't really a typical nobleman, he puts the pleasures of life first before politics and sees his people as people and war as a losing battle (see the conversation he has w brabant after freeing them from maleshov). but he still acknowledges that the day will come when he has to take his role seriously even if the looming threat to his freedom strikes fear into his soul (see raborsch when the arranged wedding is announced). in the prologue of kcd2 he leads the company and doesn't joke much or even indulge in the conversation of women, the shadow of tomorrow's meeting with von bergow grows closer and there's a lot of pressure to not mess it up. hans is a lot of things, but incompetent is not one of them. he doesn't cry when they have to get their hands dirty and remains relatively calm when dealing with other nobleman. he knows what's at stake and doesn't allow henry to take the brunt of their struggles. even when henry is hallucinating, shouting, and is essentially dead weight, hans doesn't hesitate to carry him and assure him that he's okay.

i haven't even begun to cover the depth of the story and the characters, but as much as i wish i could I'm not qualified enough for a deep analysis and I'd rather go to my final thoughts, which is of course the romance between henry and hans (and warhorse's treatment of mlm characters).

gay... people?

from my previous point, these are two characters that stand on their own, but together they stand taller. even without any romance the game and story are incredible. henry and hans' friendship is not optional, it is a core part of their characters and why they fight. it's not distracting or out of nowhere bc their sexualities are not their entire personalities. but here's the thing, the friendship created a strong foundation for a potential romance, but if written carelessly and completely out of character, this romance would not have worked and the writer's hand would show. taking into account the setting, the characters, and the plot is the only way to craft a believable and good romance. and I know some people are disappointed because they expected more romance or dates or some grand display of love, but these characters aren't like that, at least not how we perceive romance in our modern day. they love each other, there's no denying that, and they didn't even have to say those exact words for it to be true. love can be shown and said in a multitude of different ways and it will not look the same for every person, but it doesn't make the love any lesser.

for henry and hans, it's action above words. hans seems to be the more introspective of the two, and we see this when it's him who initiates the final romance scene with a beautifully tragic story he'd been thinking about for god knows how long. but this only happens when they're sure they'll die, that they'll never see each other again, only after henry reminds hans again and again that he's cared for. and maybe it's too late but something needs to be said. often times they make jokes and tease each other, which could definitely have flirtatious undertones, but their true feelings show in serious moments, moments of danger, and of course when you pick the heart dialogue. the only time henry tries traditional flirting on hans is when you can learn how to give a compliment in italian, but even then he kind of fumbles for a more genuine one ("i am dazzled by your beauty" into "you look good"). henry drops the usual theatrics to assure hans that he will always back him up when he needs it. hans needs to know that henry doesn't stick w him because he has to, but because he wants to. and the best part is that this remains true even if you don't choose to romance him.

but aside from henry and hans, we of course have istvan and erik who have their own complicated relationship that includes something romantic. then there's npcs; novice lucas (kcd1), black bartosch, and herbalist barnaby (kcd2) (I'm not sure if there's any more, these are just the ones I'm aware of rn). the way all of these characters are written is Not forced and liking men is not their entire purpose, it's actually a completely optional thing to find out about these characters (investigate the monks who abuse lucas, talk w black bartosch instead of just training, and hang out w herbalist barnaby after fighting him. actually, even if you don't interrogate erik and istvan, you could completely miss the romantic undertones of their relationship and continue to think it's just father/son). and no, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying stories with gay or even trans characters can't be about that, it would be horribly hypocritical of me when my own trans-bisexual-ness fuels my own art, but that's not all we are and I believe we're doing ourselves a disservice when we keep ourselves stuck in the coming out story cycle.

we need stories that are more than our pain, especially now, and it's important that not only we create gay/trans art, but our allies do as well. we deserve to be seen and not have to keep our love under the guise of close friendship. and I'm sorry, but sometimes it's not enough to simply imply or queer bait. I feel like it's rare for stories to actually commit to showing that we exist and that we are capable of all kinds of love, too. to treat us like people and not fun little side quests. to not debate our existence or water us down to naive teens in quirky coming out stories. we deserve to have stories where we actually get to live and love.

and idk if warhorse is really aware of how impactful that decision was... the confirmation that the director saw something more intimate between henry and hans and hearing how the actors wanted to do it justice means a lot especially knowing the reputation warhorse had. and in the end the most unlikely people created one of the most compelling and beautiful relationships in recent years because they saw people first. it may seem like the bare minimum but it's appreciated regardless. people can cry and scream about how wrong it is to have gay people in the middle ages until the end of time. nothing can change the fact that we've been here and always will be.

too long; did read

I hate being sappy, but kcd2 pulled me out of the pit I was in because of the shit on the news and my own art block, and it has comforted and inspired me to continue my own work even if it never sees the light of day. kcd2 to me is what stories should be. there's no secret to why it's so good, because swen vincke said it himself at the last game awards: "[the formula] it's stupidly simple, but somehow it keeps on getting lost." a great speech that unfortunately means nothing to titan companies, but we know it's the truth. kcd2 is a success because it was made with genuine love, care, and respect for games, history, and people. it really is that simple.

10/10

[npookie0]

I love misaki so much I wish there were more misaki fanfics

Adventurous Spirit.

Misaki x ghost!reader, urban exploration, fluff, silly

Words: 1646

Cws: Spoilers for Killer Chat! (game, DLC etc), the places aren't necessary canon, it's all my creative liberty

Misaki was sent for another assassination, an overly rich doctor who cheated on his wife, they wondered why some people got together if they were ready to kill each other so easily.

It was just another regular day for them, reading all the information about their target sent to them, getting mentally prepared for murder, texting in the server. Just normal things, well... normal for an assassin at least!

"Arghhh! I guess it's time to go." They groaned and picked up their backpack, making sure that their rifle was inside. "I've got a doctor to kill... yay...!" With a whine and a big scowl on their face, Misaki left her trailer that she parked not too far from an abandoned hospital that would be their shooting grounds.

The place was in all honesty horrifying, scattered medical supplies, documents. This never leaving feeling of being watched, even if Misaki was sure that she was alone. They had to watch out for the destroyed furniture, one wrong move and they'd get injured.

Misaki liked urban explorations, they were a cheap source of entertainment and adrenaline without spilling someone's blood and the anxiety following it. The assassin enjoyed exploring old houses, amusement parks, sometimes even cathedrals, they took pictures to show off in Slaughterhouse Losers once they've returned from their adventures. In their past they would go explore with their ex, a dangerously sweet arrangement with some 'playful' shooting at each other on the side, perks of two assassins dating or something...

Now, they're alone, walking past all the rooms used for examinations, surgeries and so on. They were curious about the secret of the place, it triggered their adventurous spirit.

"Okay Misaki, after the kill you can explore some parts of the place, just get this kill over with!" She said to herself and made her way to a staircase.

The target should be visible from the rooftop, or at least that's what the angered wife said when she was giving Misaki the information they'd need; "He will probably fuck around with that nurse of his... You will see his office from the old building's roof." With that in mind they entered the rooftop.

Cold wing blowing on their face, caused them to stop breathing for a second and cough once they could feel the air enter and leave their lungs. "jeus fuck, I don't need to choke before I shoot that guy." Misaki murmured and made their way to the edge of the roof, laying down with the riffle in front of them. They were hidden behind a tree, so no one from the building opposing them would see them, while Misaki would perfectly see the target.

They watched the nearby birds for a second, recognising them as nuthatches, after watching birds for so long they started to recognise the different kinds of birds she's encountered during the assassinations.

"Okay, you've got this. Just shoot him and you're done." They tried to encourage themselves before pulling the trigger.

Bang!

The man was shot, skull shot through, blood splatting from his head on the wall, he fell to the ground. Misaki was quick to their feet, grabbing their stuff and leaving the rooftop before anyone would even suspect that someone was there. Their heart was beating fast, sweat fell dripped from their forehead, they were sitting on the stairs and laughing bitterly at the notification from their client about the payment being sent over.

"This is all so fucked..."

You peeked from behind a wall, hearing an unknown voice coming from the staircase. There you saw someone, a person. An actual person! You didn't see anyone since the hospital closed and no one, even homeless and drunk people, ever stepped onto its grounds.

They looked worried, scared of something. You didn't understand it, why would they be afraid? Maybe they were so lonely it made them scared? You thought for a second and you decided to cheer them up with your company.

After all, you knew how loneliness felt especially in a place like this.

You were no stranger to being alone, not after you died on your hospital bed and couldn't leave the hospital's grounds ever. You tried to leave many times, attach yourself to the drunk people who entered the hospital, but all your tries ended up as failures. You didn't want this human to experience the same fate, even if they could leave at any given moment... And playing around with a human sounded like great funny.

You were a poltergeist, so walking up to a mountain of old medical records and swashing them around was a piece of cake to you.

"Wh-what the hell?!" Misaki jumped up, regretting it because they ended up sliding down the stairs. "Ouch..." They whined.

They didn't have time to think about the pain on their back because of the absolute insane things happening in front of them. Some documents were flying in air, with no wind in the whole building.

"Ahaha what the fuck is going on!" They stood up and slowly grabbed their backpack. The only thought on their mind was running, but there was also this small voice of uncertainty. They wanted to explore the hospital's grounds even more now, even if they were a little scared and dumbfounded by the sudden movement of the papers.

"Maybe it's all in my head... maybe it's the assassination's aftermath." Misaki tried to rationalise the situation, she didn't want to rile herself up with ideas outside of the norm, like ghosts for example. "Yeah, pfft! There's no ghost or whatever!" They said and kicked a rock that was next to their shoe.

You watched them as they made their way up the hallway, going to the examination's rooms. You smirked to yourself. Time to have some fun after so long! You followed them, waiting for the ideal moment to scare them again.

You didn't need to wait long, while the person was looking through a cabinet with medicine you threw some off of the shelfs, almost hitting the poor person.

She jumped away, looking at the cabinet and then the medicine on the ground. "Oh shit, something is so not right here.... No, no, no Misaki! It's just uhh gravity! Yeah, totally that." You watched as the "Misaki" person laughed to themselves and took a few steps back.

You were following them for an hour, making things next to them fall, move and fly. Her reactions were just hilarious, this person was extremely jumpy and talked to herself a lot, saying things like; "Shit, this is so unreal," "Oh my god the server will never believe me!"

You wanted to go way deeper with your game, do something that would scare them even more, but before you could something unexpected happen.

"H-hey, you there!" You could hear their voice behind you and when you turned around they were looking straight at you.

What? How?

No one ever noticed you, not even for a second and now they're talking to you? That was so weird, so unexpected, but also exciting. Your first conversation with a living breathing person since the day you died!

"Um... Hi!" You said with an awkward smile.

"Are you the... person who did all the crazy things?" Misaki asked, their eyes scanning you up and down.

They took a few steps towards you and you didn't back away or tried to run, you stood there, looking at them with a beaming smile on your lips.

"Yes, it's me! I hope I didn't scare you too much, hehe~" You giggled.

Surprisingly, they didn't scream or offend you. No, they laughed. A real laugh, one that sounded excited and proud.

"Oh shit! That was a damn good scare." They looked at you curiously. "You don't look like a ghost from super long ago."

"It's because I'm not! Though I think you would be a little kid when the hospital was closed forever."

"Ahh that sort of thing. Why did you try to scare me so much?"

"Well, you seemed lonely and stressed, I wanted to destress you!"

"By scaring the shit out of me?" They raised a eyebrow.

"Yeah! That's how the nurses helped us before our surgeries." You stuck your tongue at her.

"Sure, sure. So, why are you still here?" They titled their head to the side.

You froze.

Should I tell them the truth? Why should I do it? it's not like it will change anything... But maybe they would listen.

"I can't leave. Something that was really dear to me is still here and not with my body so I can't go outside of the hospital." You admitted.

You saw their smile drop and the pity in their eyes.

"Oh... I'm so sorry..."

"Y/n."

"I'm so sorry Y/n... You don't deserve this."

"Nah, I got used to this." You waved your hand.

You stood there in an awkward silence for a while, just looking at each other, until Misaki broke the silence with words that completely shocked you.

"So, show me where that super important thing is!"

"What-?"

"You heard me bestie! We're getting your sad ass out of here, you're not happy here and a ghost friends sounds sick as fuck!"

You were so stunned that you just mindlessly led Misaki to your old bedroom and showed them the item that kept you trapped there, an old doll that was all dusty and damaged.

"Oh, this looks so sick." They said and took picked the doll up.

"You think so?"

"Yeah! It kinda looks like you." They noticed.

You nodded. "Yeah, my grandma gave it to me for my twenty birthday, I don't know why but it's holding me back here..."

"Not anymore! C'mon, let's show you the outside world, you'll be shocked trust me!"

And that's how one silly assassin got themselves a ghost companion. Who knows how their story will end...

Haiii

I hope someone liked it >w< I didn't write ghosts in a while so ;w;

Love ya! N <3

[the-rat-in-y0ur-walls]

Nevermore Chapter 97

Spoilers ahead, lads. Skedaddle if you don't fast pass. EDIT I guess I’ve said too much in this post and need to pull it back a little. So imma gonna edit it so it doesn’t say too much about this chapter.

Alright, first my reaction cause HOLY HELL those last few panels really got me like

I really had to put my phone down and talk myself through them. Now, lets talk about what I gained from this chapter and the infamous Annabel Lee. I've noticed, at least in the comment section, the fandom really doesn't care for Annabel's character and its difficult to know where the animosity has come from. Tumblr obviously loves her but us heathens support women's rights and wrongs (Don't we gents?) Many call her a sociopath or what’s happens in the last few panels. Annabel is indeed ruthless, calculating and stone cold but she obviously cares. She cares for Lenore above everything. It can be easy to see this as obsession as we really haven't seen her care about much else or even herself. But one comment on the Webtoon brought up a very valid point which I've also picked up on.

Annabel and Lenore in life were very isolated and broken people when they met one another. Annabel, broken and then rebuilt into a prim and proper lady. Lenore, broken physically and mentally and closed off from the world.

Meeting each other saved them. They were no longer alone. There was an understanding between them at least that we know of.

Their differences though is what divides them in death.

Annabel played games, and masked her true self around her father and family connections. She now makes games of situations to retain what little control she had in life over a society she knew she could never break the rules of. A Game that was always rigged against her.

Lenore rebelled against society. She fled the estate to escape a suitor, was bound to the attic and ostracized by her family, she then faked her death and posed as man to court Annabel, the one person who cared for her.

Lenore wants to break the rules of the deans Death Game. Annabel wants to follow them.

It’s all they’ve ever known.

Before it was only them that mattered. Now Lenore has so much more to fight for and Annabel still only has Lenore. Both are right in their own way of playing the game but it pains the other to witness.

Annabel, I’m sure is aware that the Deans are not all they seem to be and won’t simply allow the students to turn the tables on them if they played how Lenore wants to.

And playing Annabel’s way means the callous death of many many people that do deserve another chance at life.

Now. I do have to agree with Annabel in the sense that Lenore forgets

This is a Death Game

Right now the “villainous” characters show their true face with pride and the “hero’s” are charming and true but as we get down to the wire, it’s going to get grey. There are no good or bad at the end of these games, only survival.

Could Annabel show some restraint and more tact when speaking strategy and making plans with Lenore? Absolutely. She’s little too giddy about sweeping some pieces off the board.

Lenore also needs to stop being so naive. She saw first hand what exactly the Deans are capable of in Dreamland, it put the fear of god in her.

In fairness to both characters though they and we are still missing big pieces of what happened between them and what their causes of death were. Which could hold big aspects of their characterization.

Maybe Lenore was originally very callous about others. In life, aside from Theo and Annabel, we’ve never really seen her interact with others. Perhaps this is the Lenore Annabel speaks of.

Anyway, I’m rambling. In conclusion, I’m a bit disappointed in Nevermores comment section. I enjoy Annabel’s character although some parts do worry me a bit but I have hope Red and Flynn have plans to curve this to a satisfying reason and conclusion.

That cliffhanger, boy howdy, what the fuck is Lenore gonna do…

[lovecarollove]

post The Golden Raven thoughts. sorta spoilers (some big picture, social context thoughts)!!

Context about me: I genuinely enjoy reading new canon material. Maybe it’s my decade of dedication to the PJO world, but I never get tired of an author continuing to world build. I think right now of two-semi related thoughts.

One from an English class in high school: authors include every word for a reason. Authors are intentional about their words, sentences, and perspective. Some are craftier or more complex than others, but what they write matters.

Two: Suzanne Collins is known for only writing when she has something to say. The original hunger games was inspired during the Iraq War and TBoSaS has come out post-Covid, post-rise of the far right globally, and in the Tr*mp era. The return from hiatus by Suzanne really makes me think about why Nora broke from hiatus in the AFTG world now. IMO…she’s got something to say (beyond just the fandom love & her love for her books)

With that said…I really enjoyed TGR. It was dense, slow, and kept me guessing. The pacing felt very appropriate for the story being told. The mapping of the original story has been likened to a chess match (the game itself) with guns pointed under the table (mafia stuff) [there was another tumblr post that laid this out and I’ll tag it if I can find it]. The original trilogy was fast, matching the desperation of Neil as the narrator. With this trilogy, I can see the same intentionality of matching the pace and mood to the larger story being told.

Jean (&Jeremy) are healing. If you’ve gone through something, you know that it’s starts and stops, agonizingly and frustratingly slow, unexpectedly fast, full of setbacks, and eventually you’re in a better place without realizing it.

Of course, what Jean went through was literal child sl*very, torture, CSA/SA, and extortion. This is so so much bigger and darker than Jeremy’s elitist conservative family, dr*g addiction, sibling loss, and shattered self image/self-respect.

However, I think the foil between “normal” lives & problems and Jean + Ravens/Foxes is really compelling. I think it helps us grasp in a more tangible way the cruelty these kids suffered. Of course it is fiction and we can play around with it, makes jokes and memes, and make it our own. But. On a very real level this is trauma someone has experienced/is experiencing (albeit most certainly in a different way). It is depraved how Jean and the others have been treated. It is sickening to think that people seek to do that to others.

Moreover, this is partly why I find Jeremy’s family so interesting. For one: their cruelty isn’t physical or illegal in the way that Jean + the Foxes experienced. Instead, it’s structural and 100% real (whereas the Moriyama and mafia network is made up even if based on real organized crime). It’s something that won’t just end in a single confrontation, a single slip up, or a single card toppling the house down. That cruelty isn’t precarious and built upon secrecy, it’s embedded in society.

The racism, Islamophobia, xenophobia, homophobia, and elitism won’t just go away. I think Nora leaning into the fact this takes place during the War on Terror and rise of the Tea Party in America is very relevant. The general 2007-ness of it all is at times hilarious, and other times upsetting. 2008 was when California voted on Proposition 8, which banned gay marriage until it was overturned by the courts a few years later. With characters like Jeremy and Jean coming of age in that environment, its hard to think they don't have the same role models to look up to or legal protections (for now) like we do at this time. The anxiety about how their sexuality could affect their public percepion and prospects is super real. I think Coach Rhemann is a great example of this dilemma. His presence and relationship with Jean is something I absolutely loved and cannot wait to see more of.

Of course gay and trans people continued to exist and thrive, but life was still very shitty and dangerous for a lot of folks. However, Jeremy’s self-hate about that aspect of the tragedy surrounding his freshmen year banquet feels that much more poignant. The fact the floozies stick so closely together, yet aren’t afraid of being themselves makes me so sad and so proud.

I know this might be a sorta controversial opinion, but I totally see why Nora included all the slurs she did. I (a 23 y/o White woman from the South) have certainly not experienced the sheer vitriol behind these words these characters have. However, I have absolutely heard them used growing up in this community. I also know that the South isn’t the only place full of bigotry in the U.S.

And 100% yes, racism and homophobia cannot be boiled down to just slurs. But to ignore them and the fact they were so prevalent (and really only in the last decade have been pulled out of the mainstream) would be dishonest to the time period and social reality. It would be dishonest to the experiences Cat, Laila, and Jeremy had to endure. It’s easy to forget with time and growing up during the period I did that such hate was so common, so blatant. Bigotry is very banal and so easily brushed aside by complacent White folks. The big stuff and the little stuff both add up in the end.

This is sorta why I think the reactions from the characters are so varied or somewhat tempered in those moments. It’s almost certainly something they’ve been told before. It likely that between the pages and days, these are the words echoing around their brains before bed. The limitations on POV restrict that, aside from the fact Jean has a very skewed view of how society operates and Jeremy is an exceptionally avoidant narrator. It’s well established none of these characters have good relationships with the police because that institution isn’t looking out for them. They are the targets and suspects. Protecting their safety as much as they can is probably top of mind. Dismissivenss about the situation is one way to cope.

This systemic oppression is still out there waiting for these characters. Even if/when the mafia house of cards fall—the enduring world of structural racism, patriarchy, and xenophobia will still be there. Not to say these characters couldn’t or wouldn’t be beacons of progress and change, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy or never scary and dangerous.

Again—I cannot speak with anecdote of personal experience with regard to racism. However, I’ve got up close and personal knowledge of what is going on right now in the South following the 2024 election. People protect themselves in all sort of ways that’s hard to understand until you’re staring it down yourself. I do think our four Trojans, however, and some tough mfs.

All that being said, I really feel like Nora has tried very hard to offer this side of society to further build out a more complex AFTG universe. And it is ugly--especially because it's something we see and live in ourselves. This book has made me think a lot about how much can change in 16 years, and how little has as well. I really don’t think it’s a coincidence we are getting this trilogy at this moment in America.

I realize this is like…a lot more serious and big than most of the AFTG fandom-world usually is. And trust me when I say—I love love love the silly, fluffy, unserious parts as well!!! And our relationship to the author herself is unique and a gift. It’s something that makes our fandom special and tight knit.

I’ve also got so many positive and goo-ey thoughts about the book, but I might share them later because this is already So Long and So Serious. I cannot wait for the final installment of this trilogy.

(I’m also someone with few hills I’ll die on when it comes to literature, writing, and fandom. I simply love bringing the books out into a larger conversation and considering them that way).

[oneverydelululemon]

SXF MANGA SPOILERS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Hi! It's me again!

I want to thank all of you wonderful people who have read the first fic I did, The Conversation. I love and appreciate every single one of you! <3

Since that post gained a bit of traction, I decided to write down the prequel, aka how Damian even realised Anya can read minds. (Un)fortunately, this fic got a bit long so I'll be posting the first part for now. I hope you enjoy!

The Revelation - part 1

Damian was sitting on his bed in the dorms, his legs crossed. He had spent almost the entire day studying in the library, his nose in the books until Ewen and Emile dragged him out. After forcing Damian into the dorm, the boys went to get something to eat. Since Damian wasn't hungry, he chose to go to their room instead and have some well deserved rest. However, once he snuggled into his bed, he couldn't fall asleep.

Damian had been struggling with insomnia for a while, and the causes of his lack of sleep were always one of two things. If he wasn't stressing about his academic status, his mind liked to drive him crazy with all the memories he has about that shimp-haired commoner. The latter frustrated Damian to no end. He hated his own mind for toying with his heart in such a manner, for having chosen to give so much of its precious attention to someone so undeserving of it. If he'd paid as much attention to his studies as he did to Forger, he'd have already become an Imperial Scholar. A part of him wished he would come to his senses, but a small part of him hoped it could be like this forever.

So Damian did what he always does when he needs to relax and stop thinking about that girl - he took one of the many "The Serpent's Orb" comics he owns and began rereading it.

"The Serpent's Orb". Oh, how he adored that comic. He started reading it during the Dark Preschool Ages. He would read it whenever the halls of his mansion felt too empty and the rooms too big. Damian cringed thinking about the time he spent reading and reenacting the story to Jeeves. He cringed even harder when he remembered he would sometimes tell the same story to his old plushie whenever he'd be too scared to sleep at night, believing there were monsters in his closet. By the time he moved into the boys' dorm at Eden, he already knew every line in all the volumes, every episode of the show. Damian was ecstatic to hear Ewen and Emile were fans of the show like him, but they were never as enthusiastic about it as he was. He never blamed them for not loving it as much, though. For them it was just another cool show, but for Damian, "The Serpent's Orb" was a lifeline.

He took one of his favorite volumes from underneath his bed and began reading the first page. He usually reads through an entire volume in the matter of minutes, but he found it hard to concentrate during school break. His mind had been too occupied reliving the last time he saw that peanut-obsessed stalker. He did his best to call the night of the gala anything but magical, even if he did spend a good portion of it arguing with her.

Damian rubbed his eyes in hopes of erasing images of Anya dancing with him. He reread the page he stopped on. The main character read the mind of his best friend to find out what happened on the planet he visited. Damian hadn't really found this scene as interesting as many other fighting scenes up until that moment.

Mind reading, huh? - he pondered. It reminded him of the joke that dummy made at the gala. Damian knew better than to believe such an ability exists. This is the real world, not some cartoon or a comic.

I mean, imagine what life would look like if telepathy was real. You would know exactly what the other person thinks. If i could read minds, I'd have perfect grades! I would win every game of Old Maid and excel in every quiz! There's no one I wouldn't beat in every single football match! Bazooka Bill would fear me!

He kept daydreaming, chuckling to himself.

Until it hit him. He felt his stomach sink.

Didn't Anya make Bill cry when she dodged his every single throw, as if she knew what he was about to do? Didn't she know about some of the most embarrasing moments in Damian's life, like when Max pushed him into a pond on accident? Wasn't it Anya who won the first round of Old Maid, before she agreed to play another round because it seemed like she cheated? Didn't she somehow find out the bombs around their necks were fake in that damned bus, despite nobody ever hearing any of the terrorists say it?

Damian's mind was racing, going over every single interaction he's ever had with Forger. He stared wide-eyed at the pages in his lap, his face turning paler by the second. He dropped the comic from his hands as they were too shaky to hold it anymore.

In that moment, he was rethinking his entire existence. Is this life real? Is Anya real? Is he real? Is this all just a bad dream or some sort of a fictional simulation? Does he live in an actual cartoon?!

Damian didn't sleep that night. He barely managed to sleep every other night after that, counting the days before the beginning of the second semester.

He had some investigating to do.

And that's it for this one! I heard somewhere Damian imagined he's on a planet in Dragon Ball Z when he was "training" for the dodgeball match, so I took that fun fact and ran with it. That being said, I've never watched the anime or read the manga, I just searched up if it involves any telepathy. It's why I tried to keep it vague. I hope I didn't get anything wrong but let me know if I did!

I'll make a part two that will revolve around Anya finding out he knows.

Let me know what you think! Any feedback is appreciated! And thank you once again for reading my delulu little stories! Love you to the moon and back!

Byeeee <3

[marciaillust]

Recently in order to detox after work I've been playing yakuza like a dragon and woooooo its such a step up from yk1,yk2 and y0 the biggest shock for me is how much im enjoying the side missions? previously they felt really flat and goofy but now they are still able to retain that trademark yakuza weirdness but they have a lot of heart too. And idk if im misremembering or if i never paid attention to that but people from the side missions now.... introduce themselves? was that a thing previously? regardless of if it was, now i notice it and it furthers the sense of connection and intimacy in the side missions, like im really helping a "person" and not just "man with glasses" or what have you im also really loving the cinema minigame and the enterprise running minigame, sometimes i dont push the main story for sessions on end because im running a cookie shop......... but its soooo fun! though i will forever miss the dance minigame from y0....... i know i know people hated it! but I LOVED IT!! I love rhythm games and that one was so weird and quirky i havent seen anything like it before. And the songs from y0 were bangers. I used to have y0 on my laptop just so i could pop it open occasionally JUST to play the music game. It was that good for me......... THE KARAOKE IS SHIT! I have no idea why they do nothing to improve the interface (though i gotta admit this one is the best one yet) and it doesnt feel or sound satisfying at all......... also 3 songs at best. And they made the MVs so serious.... i mean its fine ig....... the characters are having an introspective moment........lowkey bakamitai..... but you gotta give me some Judgement swag. Some 24-h Cinderella! Come onnnnnn!! Speaking of things that dont impress me... the game is soooo lowkey sexist it's so eyeroll inducing. Like you KNOwwwWW there were no women in that writers room. There are only two female characters with only real plot importance and when they meet each other they start insulting each other in such a. oh such a specific way that tells you all you need to know "shut you you uggo" "ha ha, don't frown like that or you're gonna get wrinkles!" "you're not pretty when you grimace like that" "you're so old it's surprising you look this good" "watch out or youll get wrinkles and no man will want you!" like. like. head in hands. head in the fucking hands. then again yakuza was never known for its uh "normal" portrayal of women so it's not like i had huge expectations. the funniest part tho was when (spoilers!!) nanba comes back to the team during that one fight and I was thinking "aw! they're a team! they're nakama! hell yeah! the four of them against the world!" AND INSTEAD OF REPLACING HAN JOONGI (antagonist that got added to your team 5 mins ago) SO THAT YOU CAN DEFEAT THE BAD GUY WITH YOUR 4 MAIN GUYS THEY REPLACE SAEKO (the only woman on the roster). I was pissing myself laughing! That's cartoonish!!

the core fighting mechanic is also pretty whatever i'd say. It feels hilarious to me that sometimes I put the game on auto mode so i can scroll my phone or go make tea? a good shouldn't make me want to do that ig. but im thankful they have the auto mode nonetheless

despite the unimpressive aspects the game is just swimming in sauce. It's goofy, it's got heart, there's some fun minigames, the ingame music is made out of some stellar bangers, it all somehow keeps me coming back for more. I want to see how the big intrigue folds out too! the mystery got me good! Also do not. get me started on Zhao. I- listen. LISTEN. He was made for me in a lab ok he is like the perfect. man shaped thing I wanna dip him in milk and throw him against a wall. He would make a beautiful splat sound. Nepo baby discount dollarstore majima bedazzled shoes wearing teenager looking ass!! ARGH!!! ZHAOOOOOO

[mothwingwritings]

Dreaming Of World's End

Reader X Zenos Yae Galvus

Waaah it has been so long!!! I apologize for the absence! I have been working on and doing all kinds of stuff (fics included) as of late so I did one of my classic dip outs there for a moment, but I’m here! Just plunking away as usual. :)

With Dawntrail coming up I have been focusing a big chunk of my free time on trying to beat Endwalker (I am slow in all things, video games included lul) because I wanna be there with the herd with Dawntrail comes out!!! I have no idea if I am gonna make it, but I am doing the best I can to catch up!!!

That being said: Zenos brainrot propelled this fic from my brain, to my computer, to you. Was I and am I also writing a bunch of other things? Yes. Is this the only thing I could momentarily focus on writing-wise because I have been compromised by my love for this fucked up man? Also yes. I’m sorry. It’s bad. I was already obsessed with him in Stormblood and now that I am deep within the clutches of the Endwalker msq… It’s over for me guys. It was a good run, but rip to me. My WOL may be playing hard to get, but I’m sure not. Zenos if you are reading this, you can just have me.

So without further ado, here is a Zenos fic I have been working on! My love for him aside, I think Zenos is a super fun character to write for, so I really hope I did him some justice! This is a reader insert fic, but you are the Warrior of Light in it so feel free to insert your OC’s and WOL if you like! I tried to keep the reader neutral, but I will say it’s def aimed more at a female reader/character and if you are a shorter race like a Lala it will probs be a little wonky, so my apologies. Also, I am about half way? A little over half way? through the Endwalker main story, so potential spoilers up to that point. This fic takes place sometime between post Shadowbringers and the first part of Endwalker.

Nothing overly explicit, but due to the nature of this fic it is 18+ please!

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 I truly hope you enjoyed!

WARNINGS: Unhealthy relationship (if you can even call it a relationship), intense infatuation, implied noncon, noncon mentions,  a lot of fighting and mentions of fighting, mentions of death and the end of the world, unwanted touching, Endwalker spoilers.

It was always the same dream.

Amaurot. The end times. Death, destruction, chaos. Streets tainted by endless misery, stifling woe permeating the air as people ran about frantically, picked off left and right by horrendous, nightmarish monsters. Screams pierced the air as the remaining survivors struggled in vain, desperate to escape a fate that they could not avoid.

Just as any other night, he would watch it all unfold with cold indifference. Walking through the crumbling, fire charred lanes of this shell of a once bustling city, he would take it all in at a leisurely pace, maintaining a stride no more rushed than if he were taking a pleasant stroll. His features would be void of distress or malaise, his face a blank slate as he paraded down roads lined with bodies and devastation.

Zenos could say it was because he had grown accustomed to it, have the same dream each night and the grisly scenario that laid in wait past your closed eyes was bound to no longer shock you. But that would be a lie, as this ghastly nightmare had never truthfully bothered him to begin with. He simply didn’t care, not about the dying planet, nor its inhabitants that suffered the same fate. This scene from another time, this moment from a faraway place that no longer existed, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any form of remorse for the phantoms left to wallow helplessly in this endless, hellish loop, even if his own star was on track to share the same fate.

An echo of the past was just that, to dwell on it was a fool’s errand.

But tonight, it was not the end of times that greeted him when he closed his eyes. In its place stood an immaculate hall appearing to belong to some manner of grandiose castle. Pristine and orderly, he sat upon a large throne questionably positioned in the middle of the walkway, facing so that a vast expanse of the hall was clearly within his view.

Had he been here before? It was hard to say, having been trapped by palace walls most of his life they all blurred together after a certain point. Perhaps this wasn’t even a castle, but some manner of fortress. The varying weapons displayed neatly along the surrounding walls certainly made it feel as if this was more than just a mere abode for royalty to live out their boringly opulent lives, perhaps it doubled as an armory of sorts? Every sword, spear, and battle axe looked immaculately cared for; their blades so sharp simply looking at them made you feel as if you had been sliced.

His time to dwell upon the mystery of his surroundings was quick to dissipate however, as he felt a familiar presence approach him from behind. He remained still when a delicate hand was placed upon him, crawling from his arm to slide unhurriedly across his broad shoulders. The caress occupied the entirety of his thoughts, manicured nails scratching lightly against his flesh as they raked across his back, pressing just hard enough that they left a pleasant burn in their wake.

“There you are,” a deceptively alluring voice purred in his ear. Phantom arms draped themselves loosely over his shoulders, their fingers moving to trace a swirling pattern upon his chest. Goosebumps littered his arms at the brief contact. “Were you hiding from me?”

A small smile spread across his lips. What elation merely hearing your voice caused.

Were he not already aware of it, he would recognize he was in a dream from this interaction alone. You, only you, would be welcomed to touch him this way. But even were he to offer invitation, you would never do so of your own free will. There was a mixture of pride and revulsion that kept your interactions with him void of skinship, save for the fleeting contact that occurred when you were locked in combat.

His motivations, the way he chose to experience the world, your differing values and opinions. Like night and day, they barred you from reciprocating his feelings towards you. Because of this, he was left to revel in your touch exclusively in the realm of dreams.

“On the contrary,” he hummed, “you have been the one to keep me waiting.”

A low chuckle reverberated from your chest, sending a shiver down his spine. You rose to your full height, pulling away slowly until you disconnected from him completely. Even if the contact was nothing more than an attempt at provocation, he missed your touch the moment you detached yourself.

“Well then I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, my lord,” you enunciated his title tauntingly, the playful lilt in your voice exciting him further. He heard you take several languid steps away from him before you spoke once more. “That is, if you even have a heart that can offer forgiveness.”

Zenos rose to his feet, turning to finally face you. Your back greeted him as you stared up at the myriad of weaponry covering the back wall, the hand that was moments ago atop his chest now gracefully running across the hilt of a long sword. Your fingers lingered on the handle, moving as if you were going to grip it, but never completing the task.

Zenos smiled. You were toying with him.

“You jest,” he spoke, taking a measured step your way, “if anyone has intimate knowledge of the existence of my heart and whom it beats for, it is you.”

Your posture stiffened in acknowledgment of the insinuation, yet you refused to turn his way.

“Is that so,” your voice seemed distant, as if you were unwilling to accept the burden of the intense desire he held for you, “Forgive me, I must have misread the situation. Due to the nature of how our meetings always end, I figured you only ever wanted one thing from me, and that is my blood.”

A low chuckle rumbled from within him, his eyes crinkling in amusement. For all that you were, all the skills and knowledge that you held, you could certainly be dense.

“I desire all you have to offer,” he answered plainly, “Your fury and malice, your rage and rancor, your disdain and desire,” he continued to approach you, each step slow and deliberate as he closed in on your staunch form. “Your love and affection are no different. I want to consume your every thought, just as you consume mine. I want you to taste me in the air you breathe and feel me crawling under your skin, even when I am far removed from your presence.”

He stopped several steps away from you, keeping his distance but lingering close enough that it bordered on intrusive. He raised his hand calmly, reaching out to grab a stray lock of your hair between his fingers. He gingerly caressed the silky strands, smirking when he noted that even such slight contact caused a shudder to lurch your otherwise statuesque form.

“You can play the fool all you want, but you cannot hide the fact that the same beast that dwells in me is also within you. They call out, craving each other to the point of madness.  We need each other. This dance we share must continue in perpetuity, lest our fierce yearning for each other’s presence turn us to savages incapable of rational thought, driven to the point of committing mass, undiscriminating destruction as a means to appease ourselves.”

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss atop the tendrils in his hand, before letting it slip from his grasp completely. “And you would do anything to divert that misfortune, would you not hero?”

Your shoulders began to quiver, shaken by the threat of violence he could and would commit simply to be by your side.  An impatient sigh escaped his lips, “So come, what better way is there to quench each other’s thirst and prevent calamity than through a mutually beneficial rendezvous? Surely even someone as set in their way as you are is in agreeance.”

“I was under the assumption that you planned on battling me until the world was torn asunder, regardless of if I entertain your perversions or not,” Your voice dripped with disdain as you spat your response at him, “If that is the case, pray tell why I should not cut you down where you stand? Why must the dance continue if the outcome is all the same?”

Your words made the smile on his face grow, stretching his lips to an unnatural degree. Taking another step forward, he leaned in until his mouth grazing the shell of your ear. Placing his hands firmly atop your shoulders, he gave a tight squeeze as he responded.

“Because we share one destiny,” he pressed his cheek flush against your head, inhaling deeply before releasing it in a slow, shaky sigh, “even now as you try so hard to deny me, our fate is intertwined, my warrior. You cannot escape me, and I have no desire to escape you. The dismantling of this world as a result of our conquest is all but inevitable and I welcome it with open arms.”

“I won’t let the world crumble to ash.” Your bold declaration was spoken as if it were fact, the conviction in your voice sending a surge of wanton excitement coursing through his veins. “Say and do as you like, the future you seek will never come to pass.”

Oh, how he adored you.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “You can try and stop me, but you cannot escape what has been predestined.”

During the course of the conversation, your hand had had traveled to the base of an axe, your fingers wrapping around it to grasp the handle in a constricting hold. All of the anger that had been bubbling up reflected in the whites of your knuckles, the tremor of your hand becoming more apparent as your composure slipped further and further. The cool demeanor you initially donned had completely shifted, overridden by the immense agitation his presence was inviting.

The axe was ripped swiftly from the wall, lacking fluidity. There was no care for keeping the wall in tact or making sure all the other weapons that surrounded it stayed in their spot. You ripped it down with one great tug, bits of stone and surrounding armaments clattering noisily into a massive steel heap on the ground as you finally spun around to face him. Zenos had seconds to react as you swung down in a wide arc, the finely sharpened blade slicing easily through the decorative tiling that coated the floor, decimating the ground where he once stood.

“There we are,” Zenos growled in anticipation, sizing you up with a bloodthirsty grin, “you are a vision to behold when you let your ferocity consume you.”

You deigned to answer him, your icy countenance his only response as you straightened your posture, considering your next move.  Your distaste for him was clear as you hefted your axe from the ground, dust settling around you as it was freed with a mighty yank. Weapon in hand, you came for him in a relentless torrent, striking at him in a flurry of breakneck swings. In the ensuing madness, he grabbed the nearest weapon he could reach-a sword that was more ornate that functional, but it would serve its purpose for the time being.

The enmity increased as he reciprocated your attacks. Parrying each blow with a steady hand, he responded to your blows with calculated strikes of his own, expertly countering your aggression. The air around the two of you had become electric, charged with hostility and fervor as you hacked away at each other time and time again.

Though frantic, the assault was far from inelegant. Each swing of your axe and swipe of his blade was an orchestrated maneuver befitting the couple who performed them. It was as beautiful as it was fierce, a true force of nature. To an untrained eye the activity would appear as nothing more than a blur of chaos, annihilating all that was in its wake. But to Zenos, a man who had dedicated himself to your study, it was a sight that made his heart ache.

He was witnessing a glorious preamble, a promise forged in battle between himself and his righteous and powerful hero, the only person with whom he ever felt a true connection. This battle, amongst all of its other perks, gave him purpose.

Fighting you, he felt alive. To be the sole receiver of all your ire, your discontent, your undivided attention… it was like a dream. He realized this encounter was most likely just that, a conjuring of your presence from his sleep addled mind, a side effect of his constant ruminations of you. You already occupied each of his waking thoughts, it only made sense that having you visit in his dreams would soon follow.

Be that as it may, the knowledge that this moment lived solely in his mind did little to dissuade his desire to get lost in it, to get lost in you.  If he couldn’t have you in the waking world, his dreams would have to suffice, at least for the time being. Besides, there were things he could accomplish in his dreams that would never be plausible elsewhere, moments of intimacy he could forge that would never present a chance of happening in reality.

A particularly rough blow sent Zenos reeling. The sword knocked from his hand scattered just out of reach, his body lurching to an abrupt stop as he collided with rubble that had piled up behind him. A quick glance your way revealed a small smirk ghosting your lips, a hint of satisfaction shining through your hostility. He could see the assurance reflected in your eyes, a swell of pride over the victory you would soon be relishing.

Zenos mirrored your glee, pleased you were having as much fun as he was.

As you hoisted your axe high, thoroughly preoccupied with your pending achievement, Zenos took the moment to strike. Launching himself from the ground, he rammed his body against yours, hitting you hard and fast. The speed at which he closed the gap astounded you as much as the collision had, causing the axe to topple from your hands, skittering out of your reach. A pained grunt escaped your lips as you collided with the ground, Zenos following suit atop you. His hand cradled the back of your head as you fell, catching hold before it could crack against the stony floor. It would do no good to have you suffer injury and pass out now, not as things were about to get truly interesting.

Positioning himself atop your fallen form, his body caged you in as you lay beneath him, panting and exhausted. Splayed amongst the rubble, your confusion morphed into a look of annoyance as you realized your situation had drastically changed. Your success had been stolen from you and now the thief had you cornered, trapped right where he wanted.

“I wish you could see yourself as I see you in this moment,” Zenos spoke between his own labored breaths, pressing into you ever further as his face hovered inches from your own, “Disheveled and feral, transformed by your bloodlust, you have never been more breathtaking.”

“I’m not like you,” you retorted sharply, “I don’t revel in such acts of savagery.”

Zenos chuckled, “And yet you seemed quite delighted moments ago when you were convinced victory was within your grasp.” You frowned as his hand found purchase on your chin, gripping it in a tight pinch to keep your focus fixed his way, “But here you are now, bested and at my mercy.”

You grimaced, “I have yet to lose to you. I refuse to concede defeat.”

In response to your bold declaration, he gave a throaty, booming laugh. How was it that you always knew just what to say to drive him absolutely mad with desire?

Unable to contain himself any longer, Zenos smashed his lips to yours, capturing you in a heated and hungry kiss. Your brain took a moment to comprehend the abrupt action, but as it did you began to struggle against it, thrashing and clawing at him in an effort to create distance.  Zenos remained firm, making it clear that you had expended far more energy than he had, leaving your assault lacking the power needed to stop him. Whines of displeasure snaked from your mouth as his grip tightened on your chin, squeezing so roughly you couldn’t help but gasp in pain. Eagerly seizing the opportunity, he muscled his tongue inside of you, lapping at the inside of your mouth aggressively. He groaned as he savored the taste of you.

When a need for air arose, he pulled back slightly, staring down at you with lidded eyes. Your saliva coated his lips, giving a glossy sheen as they curled into an offputtingly tranquil smile. His hand moved from your chin to drag languidly across your cheek, the brief touch of his rough finger tips sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze wavered the longer you stayed trapped in this awkward position, your eyes brimming with uncertainty. You seemed unsure of where to look, what to do, how to escape. In his wishful thinking, Zenos wondered if perhaps you were even unsure if you truly wanted to escape.

Amongst your numerous charms, Zenos found your enigmatic personality to be one of your most appealing. Being such a virtuous being, your motivations, ambition, and drive were all easy enough to sort out. You are Hydaelyn’s chosen, the Warrior of Light, the people’s champion, and you live up to those titles and more. You are a hero through and through, a source of salvation for those you protect and a complete nightmare for those that offer opposition. There is no doubt that you are a force to be reckoned with, no matter what the encounter or situation may be.

And what good hero is without a nemesis? It’s a role the disgraced Prince and betrayer of his kin plays well. In his illustrious life he had gone through the motions, donned many hats, played countless roles, many of which were not of his choosing. But of all his grand titles, your adversary is most certainly his favorite, the only one that gives him any sense of pride. Your existence gave him purpose, and for you alone he kept up the hunt.

But he knew it was different for you. Though cut of the same cloth and driven by destiny to engage him, your feelings did not completely align with his own. You were driven by more than barbarity, more than a duty to save your people and your planet. There was something inside of you, something that made you YOU, that he could never truly know, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

You were his greatest conundrum, a true mystery, and when you look at him as you were now with those eyes that swirled with anger, uncertainty, grief, and something yet unspoken… What was he to do but become a slave to this maddening, consuming attraction?

He gloated about being the victor, but it was clear you would always have the upper hand.

“Get off of me.”

The demand brought him back to the present, sheer determination replacing the conflicting emotions that fought for dominance within you. He could tell by the bite in your voice that your vigor was returning, and given a bit more time and provocation, the battle would gloriously resume.

“Eagar to carry on with our dance, are you?” He responded, an almost teasing lilt to his voice, “Or is it that you just can’t stand the thought of defeat at my hands?

“I already told you, you didn’t defeat me,” you glowered, your rage becoming palpable the longer his unwanted presence loomed, “I came here to end this farce and I plan to do just that.”

A beat of silence passed, followed by a sigh. Parting your lips to speak, your voice came out quieter, more desperate than it had previously.

“I wanted to keep this is civil as possible and respect your wishes as best I could, no matter how twisted they may be. But even for your own benefit, you refuse to entertain the notion of making this situation even the slightest bit amicable. You speak of such lofty things as fate and destiny, but all I am witnessing is you causing unnecessary suffering, hiding behind my name to do so.”

For a split second, another flash of uncertainty danced across your features. You bit your bottom lip in vexation, a glimmer lighting your eyes as they swept across his handsome face, “There is more to this world, more to this life, than waiting for its untimely end. To live out your days perpetuating death and blind havoc is no way to exist, it’s a tragedy. Why can’t you see that? Zenos, I-“

As if taken by surprise, you cut your own words short, silencing the previous thought that had been brewing. Zenos felt as if you looked pained, staring at him with pleading eyes, face scrunched up in frustration. Even with all the hate you carried for him, you were still trying to understand him, still clinging to the hope that maybe you could save him too.

Here, on the cusp of annihilation, you were doing all you could to fulfill the role of hero and protect the people that you loved. In order to fulfill that duty, it meant he must be defeated. There could be no other ending, the inexorable conclusion to all of this was always cold and endless death. Whether it would be all of humanities or just his own was still to be determined, but it did little to change the fact that there was no future to plan for, only a violently rapturous and melancholic end.

To be cherished by you, to feel your love as if he were one of your dearest companions… It was a thought not meant to be dwelled on, but one he found hard to completely shake from his head. How would it feel to be earnestly and unequivocally loved by you? Perhaps in another world, another time, your souls would be reborn and given another chance. A fresh beginning to grow together, an opportunity to nurture something more than the misfortune this world had thrust upon you. Maybe in some alternate telling of this tale the two of you were together and happy, with nothing but a bright future awaiting you on the horizon.

But that was simply a foolish daydream. All that he had, all he could hope for, was the here and now.

You sighed again, steeling your resolve with a shake of your head, “Never mind. You have already proven to me mere words cannot move you, so I will save my breath.”

Raising your torso as much as his hold on you would allow, your eyes bore into his, fully accepting the challenge that lay ahead. Though still restrained, there was an aura of dominance that surrounded you. It was a warning to Zenos that your binds were temporary, whether he released you willingly or otherwise was his decision, but regardless the outcome would be the same.

“If it’s the end you want, it’s the end I will bring you,” your soft words clashed with the look of malice reflected in your eyes, your breath fanning his face as your noses nearly touched. For an instant your eyes darted to his lips, and Zenos wondered if it would be you to instigate the kiss this time.

“I will fulfill my role. I will be your end and your salvation.”

Your words pierced him, the proclamation sending sparks of excitement to course through him, igniting his soul. His whole body burned for you, intense and consuming, his need for you was beginning to show itself in ways beyond his control. Pressing his hips flush between your spread legs, he made his intentions known to you, a shiver wracking his body when you released a small gasp of surprise.

Clutching the remaining shreds of his sanity, he grunted as you writhed against his growing arousal, pulling your body up towards him until he had engulfed you in a tight embrace.

“Enough time has been wasted,” he snarled into your neck, his chest rumbling as his grip on you tightened, “let us deliver a ruin unto ourselves so extraordinary, so beautiful, that naught will remain but the scattered fragments of this forsaken world.”

Loosening his grip, he pressed his lips to your forehead in a chaste, yet gentle, kiss. Your brow furrowed at his touch, shoulders tensing as you drew yourself back from him, recoiling at the small display of adoration. He found the reaction endearing, even with his intentions laid bare and and his hardened cock pressed firmly against your core, it was the smallest token of his affection that caused you to squirm.

Repugnance, hatred, scorn- whatever you felt for him in this moment, none of it mattered, none of it deterred him. He loved you, and he would make that love known in the only way he knew how, while he still had time to do so.

“This shall be my final gift to you,” he purred into your ear, his grip latching securely to your tunic. With nimble hands he started to pull, exposing yourself to him bit by bit as the fabric turned to tatters in his hands.  “Let us relish it my friend, my warrior, my beloved. Destroy me, and I shall be your devastation in kind. ”

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) - Chapter 3

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader nicknamed "Juni"

Word Count: 5300+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I've had this idea in my head for well over a year and with the Fallout show being dropped (and absolutely AMAZING), I figured now was the time to post it! So this is a Triple Frontier/Fallout crossover au. Huge shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to probably hours of audio at this point of me talking myself through this fic. And to @deathbecomesnerds for listening to me prattle on about video game fics and giving me her own advice.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I Don’t Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) Masterlist

My body yanks me from my sorrow. Its need to eat and drink overpowering anything else I may be feeling. I blink awake, noticing the bottle of purified water and a snack are still sitting on the nightstand from when Hawthone brought them. I manage to sit up, my head spinning, vision blurry and reach for the can of water. I pop it open and bring it to my chapped lips, taking a few small sips before setting it back down. I want to chug the whole thing but I don't know where else there's clean water. I nibble on some of the stale Fancy Lads Cakes that Hawthorne had left, but I was never a big fan of them even when they were fresh. Still, it's something. I guess.

Hawthorne rounds the corner and enters my room, his large, round, metallic eye surveying me. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

I shrug. It's the best I can offer. "How long was I out?"

"A few days, ma'am. I was starting to get worried."

I can't even offer him a small smile, my insides still reeling from the loss of Benny. And also the stale cakes. "I'm sorry, Hawthorne."

"Can I bring you anything?"

I look down at the nightstand where the snack cakes and water still sit. "Do you know..I mean, have you talked to anyone in the last 200 years?"

"A few people, ma'am. The ones in Concord didn't shoot at me, at least. They did tell me to avoid a group called Raiders. Nasty people. I had thought to venture out further but the way they described them, I didn't want to chance ending up as parts."

"So...so I'm not the only one?"

"Oh no, ma'am. From what I hear, there are settlements, other groups trying to make the wasteland better."

It's not Benny, not by a long shot, but at least I'm not the only person left in the world. Or at least the area. Relief floods my system, but only for a moment as my body settles back on grief.

"Did they say anything about food or water?"

"They did mention something about a water purifier, but I don't know if they had it with them or they were looking to fix it. They did have food with them that looks like it was grown. Tatos, I think they called them. Small round things that look like tomatoes."

My brain perks up at the thought of studying this, unable to quell my curious scientific side. "Interesting." If there were other people, maybe one of them knows something about the vaults. It's possible I could find where Benny...wait. Vault Tech lied to us and froze us instead of decontaminating us. But if they did it to me...maybe the same thing happened to Benny? He was guarding some fancy to do person. Surely they would've had access to a vault? I stand up quickly, nearly falling over as the edges of my vision darken before normalzing, my head rushing. I need to eat more than stale snack cakes.

I reach out and place my hand on the wall to steady myself, shaking my head to clear the last of the haziness away. "I need to find other people."

"Oh. Yes of course, ma'am. I understand."

I look up at Hawthorne, his metal body seemingly deflating a little in disappointment. "I need to try and find out what happened to Benny. If I made it in a vault, maybe he did too."

"Yes, ma'am. I do hope that Lieutennant Miller made it."

I swallow hard. "Yeah. Me too. But whether or not he's....we'll still need a place to live. Do you think you can spruce up the whole neighborhood?"

His whole metallic body straightens. "Yes ma'am! I can do that! But can I make a small request?"

"Of course."

"There are a few parts and things that I could use to help. Could I give you a list and if you find them, could you bring them back?"

"I don't see why not."

He tells me what he needs and I record it in my Pip Boy. It's a simple list, really. I could find most of this at that Red Rocket Station. If it's still standing. If not, I could always head into Concord, the next closest town. Besides, Hawthorne mentioned meeting people in Concord. Maybe they're still there. And hopefully still friendly.

I re-pack my backpack with my meager supplies, swallowing down my earlier thoughts about Benny. I have to focus on the task at hand. And hope that it brings me some answers at least. I say my goodbyes to Hawthorne, who immediately begins to tidy, as much as he can anyway. As I step outside, I can hear him mumbling to himself about the "abysmal state of the begonias." Despite myself, I chuckle at the thought of a 200+ year old robot worrying about flowers in an apocalyptic wasteland.

I cross over the small bridge that connects our quaint, island neighborhood to the land proper, the waters of Misty Lake bubbling and quietly rushing below my steps. I pause for a moment, looking out over the water. It looks clean, but I know better. If the roach I encountered was that large, there's no way that water is as clean as it looks.

I continue walking about a quarter of a mile, grateful that I haven't encountered any new creatures when I see it - the giant, launching rocket on top of the Red Rocket fill station. Somehow, it had made it! I quicken my pace, rounding the corner, the building coming into full sight. But the commotion outside it's main door stops me in my tracks.

A dog, a German Shepherd if I'm seeing right, is fighting off..what the actual fuck is that thing? It's about the same length as the dog but fat, with no fur but wrinkled, white/tan skin, sort of like a naked mole rat. Wait. Is that a rat?? Before I can look again, it dives into a hole in the ground that it made impossibly fast. The dog stands at the edge of the hole, barking. But then the dog stops, his head turning to the side as he looks at the ground, moving away from the hole. Everything is quiet.

SCREECH!

The rat thing emerges from the ground in a flurry of dirt, catching the dog off guard. It lunges for the dog and manages to nip his back leg, the dog's yelp of pain followed by whimpers echoing off the building behind them. The rat turns on the limping dog, drool dripping from it's open mouth. Without thinking, I draw my gun and aim, firing without hesitating and surprising myself when I hit my mark.

The rat screeches in pain and then crumbles to the ground, motionless. The dog stares at the rat for a moment then, seeing it's no longer alive, slumps to the ground. I holster my weapon and head towards the dog, stopping when its head snaps up to me, eyes boring into mine in judgement. I hold my hands up, palms facing the dog.

"It's ok, buddy. I'm here to help you."

The dog, a boy, I realize, studies me for a moment longer and whines again, licking the wound on his leg a few times before looking back up at me, as if asking me to take a look. I walk up to him an kneel down, looking at his leg. It looks pretty deep, blood spilling from the open gash. I glance over at the rat, its mouth hanging open, its giant teeth protruding out. No wonder it looks this bad.

"Wait here a minute, bud. I'll see if they still have a med kit."

I stand back up, his eyes on me as I move towards the Red Rocket station. I pull my gun back out, just in case, but encounter nothing new inside. I did, however, find a first aid box, still completely intact. I open it and find 3 stimpaks, a sense of relief flooding my system. At least I have something to heal with if I need it. I really hope I don't need it.

I toss 2 of them in my backpack and head back outside with the third. I kneel down next to the dog again and he looks from me to the stimpack in my hand.

"I'm going to poke you with this but I promise you'll feel much better, ok?"

He barks once, like he agrees, and waits patiently. I take a deep breath and poke the needle from the stimpack into his side, a little whimper coming from him at the contact. But then the medicine is inside him and I can see the wound starting to heal already. Once it does, he licks at it to clear the blood and then jumps up, barking and hopping around me. I give his head a scratch and he nudges me for more.

"You almost became dogmeat, dude. You gotta be careful." He jumps up and tries to lick at my face. I laugh and back up. "Ok, ok! You're welcome, Dogmeat." He lets out huff and puts his head on my side. I pat him a few more times before heading back over towards the Red Rocket, bringing up the list that Hawthorne gave me on my Pip Boy. To my amazement, Dogmeat follows me, wagging his tail and staying by my side.

"You staying with me now, Dogmeat?" He barks, panting happily while his tail waggs quicker. What did we ever do to deserve dogs?

"Alright, then. But try not to get hurt, ok?" I scratch behind his ears once more before looking around the station. I was able to find pretty much everything Hawthorne had asked for, my backpack considerably heavier on my small trek back to my neighborhood, Sanctuary Hills.

I spend the next few weeks with Hawthorne and Dogmeat, sprucing up the neighborhood as best as we can. Several of the homes are beyond repair, roofs caved in and the insides all crumbled. Maybe if more people are ever around, we can clear them out and use the wood to build something new. Or fortify something. There's definitely holes in the outer barrier of Sanctuary Hills.

The plants, though. The adaptations to the radiation is more than anything I ever worked on in the lab! Granted that was all on a much smaller scale in a controlled environment. Some plants have merged with others and mutated to be something new, while others just became a more intense version of themselves. And still others seem virtually unphased by any of it, still looking the same as they did 200 years ago.

I was able to forage for some foods, Hawthorne and my Pip boy helping me to scan the foods to see what I should really avoid and what would be tolerable. Some of the other abandoned houses had pre-bomb foods still fully intact, but honestly sometimes, I'd rather take my chances on a radiated berry than a Salisbury Steak that's stayed the same over 2 centuries.

But I can't stay here like this forever. I need to find information about Benny. And now that I've got more food saved up, grateful for the basement full of purified water cans that one of our neighbors had squirreled away, it's time for me to venture out. Hawthorne continues to work on the neighborhood, but I can tell he thinks I won't be back. And maybe he's right. Dogmeat comes with me, not wanting to leave my side unless I tell him to. He's good at finding things and also catching small critters, which drastically improves meal times.

We head over the Old North Bridge and past the Red Rocket where Dogmeat and I first met, and continue down the road towards Concord. It's not too much farther, maybe another couple of miles, but about halfway there, Dogmeat suddenly stops, his ears perked up as he stares intensely ahead at the road.

"What is it, boy?" I speak quietly to him, kneeling by his side. He lets out a low "bufff". I see nothing, but the road does wind away a bit down the road. I don't hear anything right away, but then I decide to close my eyes, focus on hearing. And that's when I finally do hear it - voices. And not just any voices, human voices.

I make a clicking sound to Dogmeat and he follows me immediately into the tall brambles by the side of the road, crouching to avoid detection. We wait about 15 minutes before the people are finally in view. They must be injured for them to have taken this long.

"..all I'm saying, is that we've been wandering around looking for this Sanctuary place Mama Murphy has been claiming she sees in her "visions". And what do we have to show for it? More scars, more empty bellies, and less people."

"Marcy, you know Mama Murphy doesn't lie. She's trying to get us to a safe place."

A scoff. "Yeah, but how many of us will be alive by then? We just lost 3 more people back there to that fucking deathclaw."

What the hell is a deathclaw? I really don't want to find out. The group stops, almost in line with where we're hiding and I get a good look at them. They're all in pretty rough shape, their clothes ripped in a lot of places, bags under their eyes, some woulds still bleeding, and an overall sense of weariness. Their leader, a man with dark skin and a wide brimmed hat, carries some kind of gun type weapon with a crank. One I'm not really familiar with. But everyone else seems to have holstered their weapons. If they had them. They don't seem like a threat to me. In fact, they may have information on the Vaults. I look at Dogmeat and he looks at them, waiting for a few moments before looking at me, seemingly in agreement.

I stand from where I had been crouching, my hands raised in front of me. "Hey there! Is everyone ok?"

The man with the hat immediately turns to me, his weapon raised and aiming directly at my chest. "Stop right there!"

I don't move, my hands still held up in front of me. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen people in...a very long time. Is everyone ok?"

The man with the hat glances sideways at his group before back at me. "We can still fight."

"Oh no! I'm not..I want to help!"

"Yeah? Prove it!" The woman who had been complaining before, dark hair, lighter skin, eyes narrowing further at me, yells snarkily at me. Marcy, I think her name is.

"How do I prove that?"

"Wait." An older woman's voice spoke from inside the group of people and the mat with the hat turned to look at her. An older woman, maybe in her 60's, with a beanie hat and blue coat looks up at me. "Are you the vault dweller?"

I glance down at my bright blue jumpsuit with the yellow paneling. “Yeah.”

Marcy snorts, but the woman stares deep into my eyes. “The one lost to time?”

My eyes go wide, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “She’s the one who can take us to Sanctuary.”

Marcy scoffs. “We just see some random chick in a vault suit and we’re just supposed to-”

“Sanctuary?” I ask the woman, never having taken my eyes off hers. 

She nods. “A place we can make safe and call home.”

How did this woman know about me? A vault dweller “lost to time”? And then she says I can take them to Sanctuary. Like Sanctuary Hills? Where my home is? Sure, it needs some love, but it is on an island. There’s only a few holes in the perimeter, not a bad place to hold up. But still. I hardly know these people-

“Mama Murphy, we can’t just go asking citizens to take us to places and hope they know what we’re talking about.”

Her eyes are still on me, studying me. “She knows what I’m talking about.”

Several long moments pass before the man in the hat clears his throat, holding his hand out towards me. “I’m sorry for the introductions. My name is Preston and I’m with the Minutemen.” I shake his hand but my confusion must show on my face because he continues. “Oh, right. Vault dweller. The Minutemen are made up of civilian volunteers. We’re here to protect the people at a minute’s notice.”

Minutemen. Sounds like a good organization. I’m going to have to trust at some point if I want answers. 

“You can call me Juni.”

Marcy chuckles. “I think I’ll stick with Vault Dweller.”

Preston glances sideways at her before back at me. “It’s nice to meet you, Juni.”

No time like the present. “Do you know anything about any other vaults? Around Boston?”

Preston nods. “Only a bit. Met a couple of them a while back. 2 women. They had some…unique features-”

“If you think one eye and horns are just unique.”

I look at Marcy. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Marcy, we call them mutations. Apparently, they were uh..experimented on in their vault. Not just them but all the generations before them. So…mutations.”

So they were running experiments in all of the vaults. I guess that makes sense, considering they never told us about the cryo and even pretended it was decontamination. What else has Vault Tech done?

“What vault were they from?” I ask Preston. 

He shrugs. “They didn’t say. Got rid of their vault suits before we met too.”

Well, at least there are other vault dwellers out there. That means, I may be able to communicate with them from my vault, assuming the equipment works. It’s not much, but a tiny flutter of hope billows in my stomach at the thought of possibly finding out more information about Benny. 

“About Sanctuary-”

Marcy cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t listen to Mama Murphy. She’s high most of the time she comes up with these visions.”

“That may be, but I live in a place called Sanctuary Hills. It’s not to far from here actually. Would…would you all like to accompany me back? There’s work that needs to be done to refortify it. But with everyone pitching in, I don’t see that being an issue. There’s plenty of space for everyone.”

All of their eyes are fixed on me, wide and bewildered. Except for Mama Murphy, who simply smirks, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. A man with spiked brown hair, coveralls, and goggles hanging around his neck speaks up from the back of the group.

“Did you say there were things to fix up?”

“I did.”

The man turns to Preston, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline as he waits for his answer.

“Can you give us a moment, Juni?” 

“Sure. Come on, Dogmeat.” I turn and head back in the Red Rocket station, gathering up the few parts and bits that I thought may be useful while the group discussed things outside. Only a minute later, Preston was calling for me to come back. I tossed the parts in my bag and headed back over, wiping my hands on my pants. 

“We accept your offer of refuge.” Preston sticks his hand out and I shake it.

“Great! Follow me.”

The group follows me back over the bridge to Sanctuary Hills, their murmurs growing quiet as they take in the setting. I can hear the man in the coveralls, Sturges, mumbling to himself, making a list of things to fix up and materials he’d need. Preston scans the area as does Marcy, albeit with a more skeptical look. We stop at the house across the street from mine, some chairs and benches already setup under the open garage. Hawthorne had done a great job of cleaning up and arranging what he could. Mama Murphy sat in the chair and groaned, leaning her foot across her opposite leg, sliding off her shoes to massage her foot. 

“Don’t get old, dear. It’s not kind to your body.”

“I’m older than you.”

She looks up at me and starts to laugh. “I guess you are!”

Marcy pauses her pacing and looks at me. “What? You’re not older than her.”

I shrug. “She was right about me. I uh…I was frozen in my vault. I’m-” I think a moment. “-I’m about 228 years old.”

Everyone’s jaw drops. “228 years old? So you were like..here? Before?”

I nod and toss my thumb over my shoulder, pointing at my home. “I grew up in that house. My parents still lived there when…”

My mind races back to that day, a vivid image of the mushroom cloud silently erupting over the city. I shake my head to rid it of the memory and give them a small smile. “Anyway…Hawthorne-” I nod towards the Mr. Handy robot that had floated up to us. “- has been trying his best to get things fixed up, but we really need extra hands.”

“I’m afraid I’m all thumbs. Rather, I’m no thumbs,” Hawthorne says matter-of-factly. Everyone chuckles lightly. 

Sturges looks around. “I’ve been making a list of things we can do to fortify this place. Things we’d need to get. Jung, you still got ahold of that water purifier?”

“You have a water purifier?” I ask him, shocked.

He nods. “Yup! Ah, thanks Jung.” The man that had been hanging primarily behind Marcy hands him a complicated looking device. Sturges looks it over and nods. “Still in good shape! I can put this in the water down there, but we’ll need to secure it. If someone sees this, that river won’t stop them from trying to get it.”

The rest of the night is spent around a campfire, eating some of the food I’d managed to grow, along with some of their rations, while we discussed what needs to be done to make this place like a fort. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little sad about changing the way Sanctuary Hills looks, but I’m not a fool. This world is not the one I came from, and I yield to their expertise in this new adventure. 

We spend the next several months putting up walls and scrounging for parts for a few turrets in nearby Concord. I learn more about this wasteland, or what they call The Commonwealth. Apparently, more than just roaches had mutated, and I listen in horror with all of the mutated creatures that they’ve encountered. While I’ve fought more than just the rad roach and mole rat, I haven’t run across a deathclaw or radscorpion yet. And while I’m still a little unclear about what a deathclaw is other than some sort of giant dinosaur lizard, I do know for sure that I don’t want to ever meet one. No matter how curious I am. 

They in turn ask me questions about life before. What it was like, the food, could we just drink any water, the food, was everything clean, what was the food like. I’m not surprised the food was what they’re interested in most, especially after having the food that is the new normal. I never would have guessed I’d be eating friend radroach or baked bloatfly, but after I threw up from not having enough protein, I had to cave. Hakuna matata. 

Once the wall was up, I started heading back into the vault a few times a week. At first, I brought Sturges and Marcy with me, all of us scavenging for parts and things we could use. The vault was fairly stripped by this point, a mere skeleton of its former glory. We did get everyone out of the cryo pods, digging a small cemetery above ground and giving them a proper burial. So much unnecessary loss. Part of me wonders how long I sat there, frozen, while my neighbors were long since dead.

Once they gathered everything they could, I continued to come down to fiddle with the computers, trying to contact any other vaults. I’m met mostly with static, which makes sense. A lot of vaults may just be empty, people having left them a long time ago. Or maybe they lay dormant. Or dead. 

I did get ahold of a couple vaults, but one spoke some weird made up language and another the reception was so spotty I could barely make them out. All I managed to figure out was they were on the west coast, so they couldn’t really help me out anyway. Still, I kept at it, holding onto that last spark of hope that he was still out there somewhere. Or I could at least find out what happened to him. I fiddle with the controls, turning knobs and repeating my vault number into the microphone, only static in return. I glance at the watch on my Pip Boy and sit up, stretching. I almost didn’t come today, but I wanted to give it one quick shot this morning before I had to harvest the crops we’d been growing: tatos, like a tomato, mutfruit, a small, purple fruit that tastes sweet, and corn. We were growing extra as we could use them to make useful tools, like adhesive or acid, which I was able to make extra potent with my background knowledge in bio-nuclear agriculture. 

I gather up my bag and Dogmeat stretches, standing up to accompany me out of the vault. As we ascend, I kneel down and scratch him behind the ear, patting his head as I stand back up, feeling him give my hand a quick lick. The sun crests over the edge of the metal tube, the gears groaning slightly as they settle into place. I shield my eyes as the light hits them, turning to head down the path back towards Sanctuary Hills. But as I near it, I can hear panicked voices, tools moving quicker than normal. It takes several knocks on the gate before it opens, Mama Murphy standing there, looking worried. 

“Hey, Mama Murphy. What’s going on?”

Her eyes are filled with fear, an emotion I had yet to see in her. 

“Nightshade.”

I cock my head, my eyebrows pulling together. “Like the plant?”

She shakes her head, leaning in close to whisper. “Like the person.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. Or who. “I don’t understand.”

Preston walks up then, beckoning me to him. “Good, you’re back. We could use your help over at the crops.”

I look back at Mama Murphy, her eyes wide and worried before I follow Preston to the garden, jogging just to keep up with his large gait. Marcy and Jung are in the garden, hurriedly trying to gather up crops, tossing them into bags. 

“Preston, what’s going on?”

He looks back at me, the same worry in Mama Murphy’s eyes in his own. “Nightshade.”

“You keep saying that like I’m supposed to know what that means.”

“It means,” Marcy yells from her crouched position next to a tato plant. “That we better have a good choice of crap for him or he’ll kill us all. And that’s if he’s kind.”

I look at Preston for confirmation and he nods. “He’s a courier and a merc. He moves between settlements and Raiders, bartering deals and…contracts.”

“That doesn’t sound entirely terrible. I mean, aren’t the Raiders nasty? This way, less people die?”

Preston grimaces. “Not entirely. I mean, sure. Overall, there’s less mass deaths. Raiders were known to come in and destroy an entire area and then move on. Now, those areas are still getting to be used for farming and such.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“If you don’t comply and give him what he demands…well. It doesn’t end well.”

I look back over at Marcy and Jung, both of them scrutinizing each piece of fruit before deciding if it was good enough for this Nightshade before either leaving it or tossing it in a burlap sack. 

“Is this all for one person?”

Preston shrugs. “Sometimes. Other times, it’s for other groups. Unless he tells us, we don’t ask.”

“This is a lot of food.”

“It is.”

“We need these rations to give out to other settlements, the ones that you said need our help.”

He sighs. “I just don’t see a way we can keep everything here and our lives. We’ll just have to grow more.”

I’ll have to think on that. But… “You said he travels around?”

Preston nods. “Yeah. All around the Commonwealth. Some other areas too like Far Harbor up north and the old Nuka Cola World. Which is basically a giant raider settlement now.”

“When do you have to give him the supplies?”

“Tomorrow at noon. At the Red Rocket where we met you. Why?”

“I’d like to be the one to bring them.”

Preston shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. I’m not going to let you face this man by yourself.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Dogmeat.”

Preston scoffs. “That won’t be enough.”

“If we have all the supplies he asked for, I don’t see the issue.”

“He’s the Nightshade, Juni.”

“And he could be the only one who has information about Benny.”

Preston opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I’m doing this, Preston. I’ll be ok. And if I’m not, then just..carry on. You already have Sanctuary Hills. You’ll be fine. The Commonwealth needs you more than me.”

He studies me for a few moments before nodding. “I can’t convince you otherwise?”

I shake my head. “Not when it comes to possibly finding out more information about Benny.”

“I understand. Please be careful.”

I leave the next morning, a few hours before I would need to be at the Red Rocket. It takes about 45 minutes to walk there, especially with the supplies this Nightshade requested, a random mix of provisions and scrap. Dogmeat scouts ahead of me, sniffing the ground, making sure we’re safe. The bright Red Rocket station gleams through the light fog, but as we approach, we see no one waiting there. Figures. 

I drop the bags outside, standing up and stretching my back. Dogmeat sniffs around and then stands in front of me, tail wagging and eyes watching me. Its been a while since we’ve been outside of the gates or the vault and I can tell he wants to explore. 

“Alright. Go get a squirrel or something. I’ll be ok.” He cocks his head at me and whines. I bend to scratch behind his ears. “Go on. I know you want to hunt.” A quick lick to my hand and he’s off, disappearing out into the bushes. 

I sigh, my hands on my hips as I look around. The fog has only lifted slightly and I’m unable to see past the perimeter of the station. It’s quiet, nothing really moving, not even a breeze. I start to pace, kicking the dirt outside a little with my toe. But after a while, I grow bored and decide to head inside the station to do another sweep for things. We’ve been here so many times, but anything to break up the boredom. I’ll count ceiling tiles if I have to. I pick up a box and set it on the counter inside, bending over it to look inside, poking around at the random things in it. Basically trash, but you never know. Suddenly, I feel a cold, metal cylinder push against the back of my neck and I realize with horror that it’s the barrel of a gun. It clicks, a round sliding into the chamber and my heart feels like it’s going to beat through my chest. Is this the Nightshade? I can’t believe I let my guard down.

“Where the fuck did you get this jumpsuit?”

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard Should Have Been Rated T

Spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

I can't fathom how Dragon Age: The Veilguard exists in the way it does. Every now and then a game will come along that is so baffling in its design that I spend more time wondering how they came to certain decisions than thinking about the actual content in front of me. I'll start with the things I liked, which is unfortunately, not much. I found the combat and some of the exploration elements to be pretty fun and reminiscent of the recent God of War games, a comparison I'm sure you've heard before. Some of the overlap is pretty hard to overlook, the exploration and level design philosophy in both games are VERY similar and you can feel it with the small puzzles you do, the party members having different abilities that can interact with the world, looting, gear progression etc. While none of these ideas are new to games like this, even with God of War, it's the most recent and apt comparison I can make based on how the game feels to play. While I am a bit disappointed that you can't control party members in full like in previous installments, it makes sense for the combat framework here. Build crafting wasn't as flexible as I would have liked it to be, but I still found it to be fun a lot of the time. There's enough variety present within build crafting and itemization that I never found myself brushing it off just so I could get through the game, unlike some other aspects. I played a mage and landed on a hybrid necromancer evoker build that I was really enjoying. The other thing I liked is a double edged sword that will transition into what I didn't like about the game, which is basically everything else. The art design is a mixed bag to say the least. On one hand, the environments are stunning, there isn't a single location that isn't beautiful to look at. Some stand outs being Arlathan, Minrathous and The Crossroads. Another point for the art design is the sky box tech they used. Veilguard might have the most beautiful and detailed sky boxes I have ever seen in a video game. Unique lighting techniques are used in some areas and the sky boxes fully take advantage of that. Also it had been said to death but I cannot get over the Qunari design in this game, they look like direct descendents of Yakub.

Tone is a difficult thing to set and stay consistent with in any story, especially one that is meant to be experienced for 25+ hours. Veilguard fails to set a consistent tone on almost every level. This is a considerable step down from previous Dragon Age games in terms of everything related to writing. This game revolves around trying to kill two "gods", from act 2 to 14, that is the main goal. Except there's almost no consistency with how dangerous and powerful these gods are. What do I mean by that? One of the big shifts in tone is at the beginning of the game when you go to D'metas Crossing and find a terrible mess of alien looking biomass and corpses strewn about everywhere. Up until this point, Veilguard had been relatively light hearted with you exploring a magical, colorful forest and meeting characters that present no friction to any dialogue choice you make. Then you're thrust into this town with people mangled everywhere, you can see bodies that were trying to escape only to be caught by something and reduced to a skeletal shell, devoid of their outer layer of skin. It would have been an effective shift, except right after this we go back to happy go lucky dialogue and characters. When you go back to Arlathan and tell some of the people about it one of them goes "First the darkspawn and now this, all of this is getting very scary!". While this line was so bad I laughed out loud, it signaled to me that the writing in this game is probably not going to get better. Later on the gods wreak havoc on a city and you have to choose one to save, one of the most impactful choices in the game. However the city you choose to not save, while looking a lot worse for wear, doesn't feel all that terrible, especially when compared with D'metas Crossing from earlier. There are a few more moments I could make an example of but the bottom line I want to make is that both of the gods do not present as a threat save for a few moments towards the end of the game. Solas should have been the main antagonist of Veilguard, he is by far the most compelling and well written character and is with you the entire game. Knowing that this game used to be called "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf" it's pretty easy to assume that this used to be the case for the narrative and was later changed.

The most disappointing thing in this game would have to be the party members. There are 7 of them in total and I only really liked 4 of them. However, I didn't do many of their companion quests as I got to a point where I didn't want to do side content anymore and just wanted to be done with the game. That left all of their stories unfinished and it's baffling how little characterization these characters get within the main story. Some of the characters have major moments within the main story that relate to their quest line, but that only counts for 2 or 3 of them depending on how you look at it. I'll leave the thoughts on the side content for later, for now I want to go through each party member. I don't have much to say about Harding as I found her to be a pretty nothing character. She has some moments during the memories of the Dreadwolf quest that leave her with interesting questions about her people and their history, but other than that she felt like such a nothing character. I can say the same about Bellara but she had a bit more charm with her energetic personality that endeared me to her a bit more. Neve is cool, she has better dialogue than some and worse than others, very middle of the road. She is focused on Minrathous and really really cares about Minrathous, that's her entire character. By itself that's not a big deal, Lucanis is like that but with Treviso, I just found it to be a bit redundant since my Rook was also a Shadow Dragon that cared about Minrathous a lot. Emmrich is really awesome, I really like the spin on a necromancer being really nice and posh. He provides the most insight during the group discussions and has funny banter with the other characters. Lucanis is probably my favorite, during the main quest he falters and doubts himself and changes quite a bit. I kept it pretty short for most of the characters since I don't have much to say about them. While I liked some of them, none of them left a lasting impression on me. Davrin and Taash are interesting in what they represent rather than their actual character. Taash is pretty compelling, kinda? Their journey of self discovery is handled pretty weirdly. During my playthrough, they have one conversation with Neve right after they join the party and then decide they are non-binary. I love seeing representation in games but this felt very "hey guys look, we have a non-binary character!!!" rather than something genuine. Especially when the rest of their questline has to do with their cultural identity and that you basically tell them to choose rather than say "hey you don't have to be defined by either groups of people because you are your own person". It's a very cool idea to flesh out a non-binary character in a long rpg like this with both their gender and cultural identity, it's just handled poorly here. Another thing that upsets me a bit is Davrin. I like his character quite a bit, however, he represents the step back the Dragon Age games have taken with Veilguard in terms of mature themes. Race has always been an important theme in these games, I played an elf in Origins and that decision heavily affected me for the entire game. Yet here things are all of a sudden just more tolerant? They mention how elves are still heavily discriminated against, Bellara says it a couple times but most of it comes straight from Davrin, I played an elf for Veilguard and all it changed was that I could say something about the gods every now and then in conversation. None of the discrimination present in the other games is here in Veilguard, which is crazy because the plot of this game should have amplified that idea tenfold. The gods threatening the entire world are elven and everyone knows it. That is a ripe opportunity for upsetting and insightful storytelling and all we get is Davrin saying "Elves really have it hard" every now and then.

I skipped most of the side content in this game, and I was heavily punished for it. The game tells you a few times that you should do the side stuff and I ignored it for the most part, this led to me getting the "bad" ending where every single member of my party, myself included, died, saving the world in the process. My issue lies with the lack of decision that led me to this ending. There were no dialogue options throughout the game that I could have chosen to prevent this and get a better ending. The game basically said to my face after the credits rolled "If you did the side content you would have gotten the good ending". I do not think an rpg that prides itself on the choices you make affecting the narrative should work like this. That's not even mentioning the lack of choice you have in regards to anything in this story, you make decisions don't get me wrong, they just don't affect much. Even with the party, 9/10 times everyone in the party agrees with everything you do, I only saw the "X character disprove" pop up maybe 3 or 4 times and I was choosing the meanest options you could make sometimes. The worst part is, I found the ending I got to be the most affecting and emotional part of the game. My home city of Minrathous looked like D'metas Crossing, everything was terrible, all my party members were dying one by one, leading to my character sacrificing himself to save the entire world. It was the dark and desperate tone the game was teetering on the edge of for the entire runtime come to fruition, and directly after Veilguard gives you a text pop up that basically says "you didn't do the side content and everyone died because of it". A final slap in the face after Veilguard actually made a risky choice, I should have been the one wondering what I could have done differently after the credits rolled, wondering if I had helped the party with their personal issues if things would have turned out differently, wondering if I had helped the various faction prepare for the coming battle if we could have won with little to no casualties. Veilguard disguises itself as a narrative choice driven rpg but there is a story it wants to tell, it does its best to push you in the direction of the ending they want to show as it would be consistent with the rest of the pg-13 writing the game has to offer. I wish we could have seen what the original concept of this game would have looked like, when it was more Dreadwolf and less Veilguard.

[castlebyersafterdark]

there's some really interesting answers in noah's german con about filmmaking in general, he spoke about the order of his average day on set and i was so happy to hear him talking about blocking! so they get into hair costume etc arrive on set then they rehearse the scenes and block them and decide that on the day, then they go back to their chair (enter bananagrams) and the cameras set up for the blocking they chose, and then they go and shoot.

i couldnt stop thinking about the scene in the bedroom with will's butt facing mike hahaha, and noah or finn suggesting this on the day! he said that its common for him to suggest ideas like this as they block and that the duffers are very trusting and happy for them to improv lines as well as give ideas about what their characters would do in terms of how to frame a scene. trust!

and he also said how almost every scene in s5 did not turn out how he expected - he has an idea of everything in his head and how it'll go, and then it always turns out differently and crazy! so interesting. that's acting + reacting for you! but nice to hear him talk the creative process (from this video, no timestamp cos it's instagram so you cant fast forward tho)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DFh1c1SIa-F/?igsh=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ%3D%3D

(Can yall believe I'm finally just now getting to watch this? That's how behind I am with things 🤭) Thoughts as I watch:

Off the bat and I know it's true - the way he refers to fans as meeting them, remembering them from online, and even "seeing familiar faces" again after being at that con for the last time when he was 13? And how I don't doubt at all that he genuinely does remember some people. He's so sincere and sweet. That's more than I'd expect for an actor. Something you can never take from him is his genuine care and value he places on his fans and having fans at all (we all know this can be a slight detriment at times... but he's just. Sweet.)

Saying that there are big sequences that use music and on set, even though that's added in post - they played it during filming to evoke a mood. And he can't say. Of course, we know music is integral to the show, but it's pretty hype knowing there will be big music moments again - love it or weary of it, I personally at this point really love everything they did with Running Up That Hill and I've heard the DB say you can't force a cultural phenomenon like that and it's not like they're trying to capture lighting twice - but you gotta wonder what they're gonna do. The fact that a bunch of 80s musicians were asking to have their music in the show 😆 I would love to know who tried to shoot their shot. (Do we all pretty much think Should I Stay or Should I Go is gonna be a huge Will climactic moment? Come on, they set that up. Imagine the song queuing, just the first few notes... then a pointed pause and it's like ahhhhh before some amazing scene. Cheeseball dramatic stuff like that I personally love. Because it's fun! And we shouldn't be afraid to enjoy that sort of thing.)

The fan who delivered the really kind message to him makes me cry by the way 🥲

Ahhh yes. His "favorite moment with Finn on set" and of course it's from season 5. Is his favorite moment with him on set gonna come from the season where Mike rejects Will??? Nahhh because that ain't happening. AND then the way he gets super excitable talking about how he spends the most time on set with Finn, then catches himself like ooooh should I be saying this? I know I'm late to the game and have only read accounts of this but hearing him actually talk about it. Boy is struggling, boy is flustered, boy is giving it all away. He is sooooo flustered. It;s not even spoilers and the fact that he considers it so is sooooo much. "What was the question??" JFC Noah 😝 Literally talk about ANY other season!! You have 4 seasons to talk about filming with Finn and instead he is losing it on stage. Season five is clouding his mind so much he can't focus. (*Inserting Foah agenda here* him unable to talk about favorite moments on set with Finn and none of them are appropriate to share 🤭🤭 Or more innocently, crushing like maaaad.)

Not gonna repeat / rehash all that was said above about a day on set which was one of the more interesting answer segments!!

Had to skip around after a certain point, yall know me and interviews and con panels - this one was better than some I've seen in the past and I think overexposure in the fandom now is making me get less embarrassed about stuff but still... ya know.

Ooooooh the answer at the end about keeping in touch with Millie was kinda awkward? I'd read his quote but watching that was interesting. He spoke fairly positively about filming memories with her before this one but the whole "evaluating how well we are able to keep in touch now that filming is over" was so heavy? He looked a little unsure there. It was odd. I'm not looking to re-poke the bear on that situation, but it was different to watch him speak on that over just reading about him speaking on that.

Also... little guy... so cute...