#Sorry for the longpost

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard info compilation Post 1

Post is under a cut due to length.

There is a lot of information coming out right now about DA:TV from many different sources. This post is just an effort to compile as much as I can in one place, in case that helps anyone. Sources for where the information came from have been included. Where I am linking to a social media user's post, the person is either a dev, a Dragon Age community council member or other person who has had a sneak peek at and played the game. nb, this post is more of a 'info that came out in snippets from articles and social media posts' collection rather than a 'regurgitating the information on the official website or writing out what happened in the trailer/gameplay reveal' post. The post is broken down into headings on various topics. A few points are repeated under multiple headings where relevant. Where I am speculating without a source, I have clearly demarcated this. if you notice any mistakes in this post, please tell me.

as this post hit a kind of character limit, there will probably be at least 1 more post. :)

Character Creation

CC is vast [source] and immensely detailed [source]

We will enter CC straight after Varric's opening narration [source]

You are given 5 categories to work your way through in CC: Lineage, Appearance, Class, Faction, Playstyle. Each of these has a range of subcategories within them. There are 8 subcategories within the "head" subcategory" in "Appearance" alone [source]

Lineage dictates things like race (i.e. human, elf, dwarf, qunari) and backstory [source]

Backstories include things like factions. Factions offer 3 distinct buffs each [source]

There are dozens and dozens of hairstyles [source]

There are separate options for binary and non-binary pronouns and gender [source]

"BioWare's work behind the scenes, meanwhile, goes as deep as not only skin tones but skin undertones, melanin levels, and the way skin reacts differently to light" [source]

CC has a range of lighting options within it so that you can check how the character looks in them [source]

There are a range of full-body customization options such as a triangular slider between body types and individual settings down to everything from shoulder width to glute volume [source]. There are "all the sliders [we] could possibly want". The body morpher option allows us to choose different body sizes [source]

All body options are non-gendered [source]

They/them pronouns are an option [source]

Rook can be played as non-binary [source]

Individual strands of hair were rendered separately and react remarkably to in-game physics [source]

Special, focused attention was paid to ensuring that hairstyles "come across as well-representative, that everyone can see hairstyles that feel authentic to them, even the way they render" [source]

The game uses strand hair technology borrowed in part from the EA Sports games. The hair is "fully-controlled by physics," so it "looks even better in motion than it does here in a standstill" [source]

The ability to import our choices from previous games is fully integrated into CC. This will take the form of tarot cards - "you can go into your past adventures" and this mechanic tells you what the context was and what decision you want to make [source]

In CC we will also be able to customize/remake our Inquisitor [source]

A core tenet of the game is "be who you want to be" [source]

There are presets for all 4 of the game's races (human, elf, dwarf, qunari), in case detailed CCs overwhelm you [source]

Story

The story is set 9 years since Inquisition [source]

The Inquisitor will appear [source]

Other characters refer to the PC as Rook [source]. This article says they are "the Rook" [source]

The ability to import our choices from previous games is fully integrated into CC. This will take the form of tarot cards - "you can go into your past adventures" and this mechanic tells you what the context was and what decision you want to make [source]

The prologue is quite lengthy. A narrated intro from Varric lays the groundwork with some lore and explains about Solas [source]. In this Varric-narrated opening section, the dwarf recaps the events of previous games and explains the motivations of Solas [source] (Fel note/speculation: this sounds like this cinematic that we saw on DA Day 2023)

What happens first off is that Rook, who is working with Varric, is interrogating a bartender about the whereabouts of a contact in Minrathous who can help them stop Solas. The bartender does not play nice and we are presented with our first choice: talk the bartender down or intimidate them aggressively [source]

The first hour of the game is "a luxurious nighttime romp through a crumbling city under a mix of twinkling starlight and lavish midnight blue" (Minrathous) [source]. The game begins with a tavern brawl (depending on dialogue options) and a stroll through Minrathous in search of Neve Gallus, who has a lead on Solas [source]. Minrathous then comes under attack [source] by demons [source] (Fel note/speculation: it sounds like the demo the press played is what we saw in the Gameplay Reveal). Off in the distance is a vibrant, colorful storm where Solas is performing his ritual. [source] Eventually we come upon Harding. [source] and Neve. Rook and co enter a crumbling castle, where ancient elf secrets pop up, "seemingly just for the lore nerds". [source] Then we teleport to Arlathan Forest, have a mini boss fight with a Pride Demon, and there is the climactic confrontation with Solas. After a closing sequence, at this point it is the end of the game's opening mission. [source] (Fel note/speculation: So the Gameplay Reveal showed the game's opening mission)

The action in the story's opening parts starts off quite quick from the sounds of things: the devs wanted to get the player right in to the story. because, “Especially with an RPG where they can be quite lore-heavy, a lot of exposition at the front and remembering proper nouns, it can be very overwhelming.” [source]

BioWare wanted to make the beginning of Dragon Age: The Veilguard feel like the finale of one of their other games [source]

Rook's Faction will be referenced in dialogue [source]

Minrathous is beautiful, with giant statues, floating palaces, orange lantern glow and magical runes which glow green neon. These act "like electricity" as occasional signs above pubs and stores [source]

The story has a lot of darkness tonally. These dark parts of the game contain the biggest spoilers [source]. However, the team really wanted to build in contrast between the dark and light moments in the game, as if everything is dark, nothing really feels dark [source]

Our hub (like the Normandy in ME or Skyhold in DA:I) is a place called The Lighthouse [source] (Fel note/speculation: I guess this screenshot shows the crew in The Lighthouse? ^^)

Each companion has a very complex backstory, their own problems, and deep motivations. These play out through well-fleshed out character arcs and missions that are unique to them but which are ultimately tied into the larger story [source]

We will make consequential decisions for each character, sometimes affecting who they are in heart-wrenching ways and other times joyously [source]

Decisions from previous DA games will be able to be carried over, it will just work a bit differently this time [source]. The game will not read our previous saves. For stuff pertaining to previous games/choices, players will not have to link their accounts [source]

Characters, companions, romance

Varric is a major character [source]

Every companion is romanceable [source]

BioWare tried to make each character's friendship just as meaningful, regardless of romance [source]

If you don't romance a character, they may end up romancing each other [source]

There will be some great cameos [source]. Some previous characters are woven into the game [source]

Companion sidequests/optional content relating to companions is highly curated when it involves their motivations and experiences [source]

We could permanently lose some companions depending on our choices [source]

Our choices can influence if characters get injured and what they think about us [source]

The bonds Rook forges with companions determine how party members grow and what abilities become available [source]

Each companion has a very complex backstory, their own problems, and deep motivations. These play out through well-fleshed out character arcs and missions that are unique to them but which are ultimately tied into the larger story [source]

We will make consequential decisions for each character, sometimes affecting who they are in heart-wrenching ways and other times joyously [source]

Gameplay, presentation, performance etc

Each class (warrior, rogue, mage) has 3 specializations. The ones for Rogue are duelist, saboteur and Veil ranger [source]. (Fel note/speculation: Veil ranger reminds me of Bellara. Maybe this is her 'spec' too?)

Duelist gameplay involves a sharp combination of dashes, parries, leaps, rapid slashes and combos [source]

Faction-related buffs include being able to hold an extra potion or do extra damage against certain enemies [source]

Individual strands of hair were rendered separately and react remarkably to in-game physics [source]

Playstyle settings include custom, distinct difficulty settings for options as granular as parry windows, meaning "players who might fancy that playstyle but typically struggle with the finer points of combat can give it a go" [source]

Combat mechanics is a mix of real-time action and pause and play. Pausing brings up a radial menu split into 3 sections: companions to the left and right, Rook's skills at the bottom, and a targeting system at the top which helps get in focus on certain enemies. [source]. In the pause system you can queue up your whole party's attacks [source]

Tapping or holding the shoulder button pauses the game, allowing us to stop the action and issue orders to companions [source]

There is a system of specific enemy resistances and weaknesses [source]. Weaknesses and resistances plays a big role in combat and abilities are designed to exploit these accordingly [source]. An example is that "one character might be able to plant a weakening debuff on an enemy, and another enemy might be able to detonate them" [source]

There is a vast skill tree of unlockable options [source]

You can set up specific companions with certain kits, e.g. to tackle specific enemy types, to being more of a support, or as flexible all-rounders [source]

Healing magic returns [source]

Abilities can change together with elaborate results, e.g. one companion using a gravity well attack that sucked enemies together, another using a slowing move to keep them in place, and Rook using a big AOE to catch them all at once [source]

A shortcut system lets you map a few abilities to a smaller pinned menu at the bottom of the screen [source]

There are class-specific resource systems. For example, Rogue has "momentum", which builds up as Rook lands consecutive hits [source]

Each class will always have a ranged option [source]

Rogue Rook can do a sort of 'hip fire' option with a bow, letting you pop off arrows from the waist [source]

Warriors can throw their shield at enemies, and can build an entire playstyle around that using the skill tree [source]

There is light platforming gameplay [source]

The game runs on the latest iteration of the Frostbite engine [source]

The game targets 60 fps

On consoles it will feature performance and quality modes so we can choose our preferred visual fidelity [source]

The game is mission based [source]. Some levels that we go to do open up, some with more exploration than others. "Alternate branching paths, mysteries, secrets, optional content you're going to find and solve." [source]

Everything is hand-touched, hand-crafted and highly curated [source]

Some sidequests and optional content is highly curated, especially when it involves the motivations and experiences of the companions. In others we may be investigating for example a missing family, with an entire open bog environment to search for clues and a way to solve the disappearance [source]

Gameplay, presentation, performance etc continued, after the above bullet list hit a character limit

There is sophisticated animation cancelling and branching. Gameplay is action-like, and the design centers around dodging, countering, and using risk-reward charge attacks designed to break enemy armor layers [source]

The dialogue wheel returns [source]. It gives truncated summaries of the dialogue options rather than the full line that the character is going to say [source]

The bonds Rook forges with companions determine how party members grow and what abilities become available [source]

For stuff pertaining to previous games/choices, players will not have to link their accounts [source]

We can play the game fully offline [source]

There are no microtransactions [source]

The game itself is not as cell-shaded in look as the first trailer looked [source]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[meruz]

i had. so many of these drawings lying around and i thought i would just like rearrange them but instead i ended up slapping together like 3 random battle nexus bgs IDK

of course this is heavily just borrowing @the-trashiest-pada's rise stuff...!

[goatfactsofficial]

Oh hey, I have some relevant knowledge here thanks to my re-enactment kit. So like, yeah, a bunch of Jews fled the Byzantine empire under Basil II and fled to modern Crimea where a bunch of other Jews were. This happened to be under the control of the Khazar Khaganate at the time. The Khagan (Or beq/bek/bec or Khan, I've seen a lot of these used interchangably) at the time was torn between the Christian Byzantines to his southwest, and the Muslim Umayyad and Abbasid Caliphates to the south. Both sides wanted to ally or conquer Khazaria to get the upper hand on the other, and also the Khagan was really interested in this whole Monotheism thing, since he thought it could help him tie his whole kingdom together. The problem here is that if he became Christian, there was this Pope guy and also the Byzantine Emperor he had to pay tithes and swear fealty to. Not quite what he was looking for. Islam? Pretty cool. Very into the arts and mathematics, but also enforces a tithes and fealty thing. Also there was some border conflicts in the Caucasus. Still not quite the right fit for a state religion. So anyway, these Jews start turning up on his doorstep en mass since Basil II decided to pull the classic "Scapegoat the Jews" trick, and the Khagan hears that they have a monotheistic religion. "Cool!" He says, "I've been looking for one of those for a while. I think they could help tie my big kingdom of semi-nomadic peoples into a unified culture. But I really don't want to swear any oaths to other kings or heads of the religion." "Well, we don't have a homeland, so we have no King. And since we have no homeland to make a centralized religious structure we also have no head of faith." Said the Jews. "Real shit?" Said the Khagan. "Oh yeah, also a lot of our people already trade along the Silk Road, right through your territory and are polyglottal badasses who make hella schmoney." "Awesome, come live here. I'm erecting a synagogue as we speak." Said the Khagan, making a note to start giving his kids Jewish names. So these Jews decide to settle down and enjoy having a head of state that didn't want to persecute them. According to some sources I've read that were poorly translated from Russian, some later khagans even started defensive wars when their neighbours started purging Jews. There is some scholarly debate about how much of Khazar culture converted, but the Bulanid Dynasty is certainly Jewish past a certain point. It's also not out of the realm of possibility to assume that some of the semi-nomadic family units or "tribes" (I use the word hesitantly because of its connotations here) might've picked up some Jewish practices or even converted. So we have a large group of Jews fleeing progroms in Byzantium. These Jews were probably diaspora that had been relocated by the Romans. So the notion that every Israelite Jew died in Roman captivity is straight up bullshit. And the idea that the Khazars converted in at all demands that *SOME* of those Jews managed to get out. On top of that, if the Khazars converted...then they ARE Jews. They have been ritually adopted by Abraham and Sarah, and Israel IS their ancestral homeland. It doesn't matter how you slice the pie, Israel is our home. To deny that is antisemitism, ignorance or some foul combination of the two. (This is not to say that I approve of the actions of the fascist government in Israel today. I am a draft dodger from my IDF service, Viva Palestina.)

If you have a problem with Jews using the word "diaspora," you're the one who needs to go and find a new word, because you're using a Jewish one.

The word "diaspora" was originally coined for the Jewish Diaspora. It has other meanings only by extension.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things �� why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

[thankstothe]

[sabrebash]

I realized i hadn't posted all of the cards i completed last year, especially some of my favorites like the Rods and Mokole Mbembe, and since i didn't like the format i was posting them in anyway I figured i'd make a masterpost here. Sorry for the length! I'm not selling these at present since a 17 card deck is such an awkward length, but maybe i could add to it in the future? I love rods/skyfish so much man they're so dumb.

[dunmeshistash]

What do you think about Shuro? And more specifically his relationship with Laios, and idk if you talk about ships but what are your thoughts on laishuro

I have this headcannon that Laios has some sort of unrequited crush on Shuro just because it's sorta funny

I ship pretty much everything. Like, as default I think everyone should kiss everyone 👍

If I'm honest I'm not much of a Shuro fan, he's a little boring to me and reactions to the chimera episode made me dislike him a bit lmao.

Ignoring the fandom I like him as a character and I LOVE his fight with Laios. Shuro's relationship to Laios is my favorite part of that character so laishuro pretty much saves him for me.

In universe Shuro is said to be quite the introvert even for people from his country. He's not the standard for someone from the eastern archipelago and it bothered me a bit when people used that to justify how he wasn't honest to Laios. I understand the idea that he comes from somewhere where reading social cues is not only expected but required but he's also someone who avoids confrontation and is quiet/shy in general.

Here's a bit from Maizuru's description from the adventurer's bible

"People tend to describe Shuro as "drab" and "shy" (...)" so specifically HE IS the exact type of person who would cause the biggest misunderstanding with Laios, just compare him to how his retainers or even his father and brothers act.

It took them saying they used ancient magic on Falin/seeing chimera Falin for him to finally snap, everything else he decided to just take it cause he thought it was better to take it than to confront Laios directly.

So besides the cultural differences you have to take into consideration this was pretty much the perfect storm brewing for that confrontation, and it's as much who Shuro is as a person and who Laios is as person that caused it.

I also disagree that the fight was a "they're both in the wrong" situation. Don't get me wrong, Laios was VERY culturally insensitive to Shuro and even more insensitive to his feelings, but there was nothing he could have done differently with the information that was available to him.

Specifically I see this comic being used to justify how Laios was to blame too, making Shuro into the victim

Like that's a major white guy move but he DIDN'T HEAR Shuro's name and Shuro never corrected him. I'd understand it if his reaction was "Your name is too complicated so I'll call you Shuro instead" that would be a major dick move, but Laios did not hear his name because Toshiro mumbled it, and for someone that forgot Kabru's name several times I imagine he made an effort to remember Shuro's.

Laios never met someone from the eastern archipelago before this, nobody ever explained to him he wasn't acting in an appropriate manner and most of all he thought they were friends. He trusted Shuro to set boundaries for him, he always respects boundaries that are set even when he doesn't fully understand them (Recalling the "I forgot about feelings.." when Chilchuck says it feels wrong to eat merman)

Instead of explaining ANYTHING to Laios, Shuro instead held it all in until it exploded all at once, he blamed Laios for not knowing something he couldn't know, and accused him of not being serious about saving his own sister.

Just imagine how this must have felt for Laios, everyone is always underestimating how serious he is, everyone accuses him of being stupid, clueless, and now this guy is telling him he isn't serious about saving the person he loves the most in the world and wants to protect always. To me this wasn't a "they're both in the wrong" situation, Shuro is far more in the wrong than Laios. But that's just how I see it.

That all being said, they understood each other finally and made peace after that fight.

And several times after this we see that Shuro really cares for Laios, and Laios still wants to be his friend. He even offered to save Laios if he fails (and he's sure he's gonna fail). So their relationship is dear to me, especially cause after this they finally have the foundation for a true mutual friendship <3

I think my dislike of Shuro comes from relating to him to be honest, it happens often that I see my own failures on a character and get angry at them for being angry at myself lmao. I also got a little annoyed cause I only saw people defending him, apparently those were made as a response to hate he had gotten? But since I never actually seen the hate it just felt annoying to see Shuro being white knighted.

Anyway I love the two of them together and I'm really happy they finally understood each other better. laishuro might be my favorite Laios ship, one sided crushes are great.

[garrandia]

lets all pretend that i've posted this in june? ok? ok

[vivispec]

Hello there! I'm not even sure how to start. So I felt very disappointed by DA:TV, because of various reasons. Not trying to dampen the mood, I am super happy for you if you actually enjoyed the game! If you do not mind, could you list the things you liked/loved about the game? Help me see the "bright side"? Just gush a litte about it, I could use some positive input around my favourite gaming series of all time. :') thank you <3

Absolutely! For me, I think I always figured I was going to like this game, even if it wasn't my fave of all time? Trick Weekes always writes characters/quests that I like, and for me, story/characters come before anything else. I liked Andromeda, flawed as it was. Even if the gameplay was mediocre, I was certain I'd find something I'd like.

But the gameplay wasn't mediocre. It was actually really, really fun. I played Spellblade, and honestly, the gameplay might be a highpoint for me. I don't really like action gameplay, I tolerate it. I loved this, though.

The biggest thing that really sold me is the fact that the big choices in this game are difficult in a way Bioware has been trying to capture since Origins, but I don't think they've ever nailed until now (except maybe in Mass Effect). Even in Origins, when they had big choices like what to do with Connor, or how to deal with the werewolves, there was always a cop out choice. There isn't one in this game, so far as I can see. At the end of EVERY companion quest there was a choice I couldn't choose, something that made me wonder just what would've happened if I'd picked something different, and don't get me started on the endgame. The endgame was brutal :')

I love the characters, too! I do think some of the writing can get a bit campy or be a bit on the nose, I think some subtlety is lacking for certain characters especially in the beginning, but once shit hits the fan just about every companion has their gutwrenching moment. I felt for every single character in this game, during their act 2 personal quest moments. In all the other games there was at least one character I just couldn't care about, but even the ones that I thought wouldn't tickle my fancy snuck up on me. By the end, I loved all of them so much. I only wanted more.

I like Rook, too. I think I can see how their characterization might be disappointing, though. I think the key for me and my friend @sweetmage was finding the right Rook to play. We both had lots of concepts and while I plugged in the right one first, I know they struggled until they found the right one. Rook is kinda like Hawke in the way that they have a bit of personality already and a defined character path, which can get in the way of true RP. Once I stopped fighting it and let Rook be Rook, I liked the game a lot more, and I liked my character a lot more.

Then there's lore. Oh, lore. I have listened to or read every codex. I have a treasure trove of theories I keep locked in my head. All I need is a corkboard and some red string. Getting to see so many of those theories come to fruition? Things they've been teasing since Origins, that I picked up on when I was 12? Absolutely magical! Some of it I think they bungled--there's one reveal I've been waiting for for 15 years that I found in a note, not codex, on a bridge in Minrathous, no fanfare or anything--but the majority of it punched me right in the face with so much force I had to pause the game and do a little pacing. I won't get into specifics for spoiler reasons, but seeing all those little dots connect? seeing when I was right, and when I was wrong? SO euphoric for me!

A lot of the things I didn't like, too, like making the Crows less shitty--so easy to headcanon around, in ways that don't contradict canon! It's one of my favorite things to do, it feels like a puzzle to me, making everything that is for certain and everything I want fit together. That one, for instance, Zevran totally gutted all the shitty Crows, and left only the good ones :)

I will say, it's clear they were trying to wrap things up. I got the sense while playing it felt that they didn't want to leave any loose threads in case this was their last DA game, so that felt a bit rushed. But I loved it. To me it was a love letter, saying goodbye. Wrapping everything up in a nice little bow. I've always struggled to choose a favorite game in the DA series, they all do something I love so differently that I can't pinpoint one singular favorite, and I think this one is right up there for me, tied for 1st place with the other three games. Like DA2 and DAI I think it could've cooked just a little bit longer, there's a lot of potential for it to be a 9/10 game imho if they'd smoothed a couple of things out, but there's a lot in there for me to love.

Thank you so much for the question, I hope the wall of text will help you see a bit of the light haha. I don't mind that people didn't like it--that's just how it goes sometimes, and I think there are a lot of valid criticisms to be had. For me I was just super bummed that it was the only thing I was seeing online. I'm following lots of positivity now, so the occasional disenchantment is not a problem. Idk if it'll work for you, but @sweetmage was similarly disappointed until they streamed it with a friend, and then just having someone there to converse with it on really helped them to enjoy it. I hope you can find something to love in it, too!

[maryland-officially]

Ok I'm genuinely confused here so don't be mean please. All of this is /genq /nbr

I have a dissociation disorder and I'm questioning plurality (I would be considered traumagenic if I am 1). From my understanding of systems, they're formed through trauma that happens before the age of ten. The brain puts up amnesia barriers and the child's personality doesn't form correctly, so multiple alters are formed instead.

Endos confuse me. They're systems that say they somehow did this without trauma? How do they fit into this? Like, I want to be supportive but some of the rhetoric I've seen genuinely pushed me into a panic attack once (it was a post saying basically you can just make headmates whenever if you want and for fun, you don't need trauma or anything which I think made me upset cos... Why would someone want to be a system and how could they view it as a whole as fun?? & the idea you could just manifest it out of thin air confuses me deeply)

I'm sorry if you don't want asks like this but you're a relatively big blog and I've just seen you say you support endos so I figured you'd be a good person to ask.

Explanation below cut because it got long ^^

Ah, well. Most, if not like all endogenic systems, are non-disordered or use that term.

Endogenic systems can form in many different ways -- we're traumagenic, but we're pretty sure there are some endo alters, and we usually find them by talking into the void of the brain and getting a response that isn't from somebody established-- I'm sorry, this isn't very helpful, but think about it like:

Talking to yourself in your brain, and then suddenly you realize that you do not in fact control the person/alter replying, and that is not you. That's kind of what it's like.

Think of a cave:

At first, you think the echo is yourself. And it probably is, or it could be. And then the echo doesn't say what you say anymore -- it changes it and it isn't exactly 'you' speaking. Well the brain is the cave and the echo is a headmate forming.

This is the way that WE know about when alters form. It's a bit like this. We/a member thinks that we/they're thinking to our/themselves, and then bam. somebody different. not formed from stress or trauma

I'm sure there are other ways this could happen,, but none that we know of

so instead of uhm

I've seen this diagram/things like it to describe DID + plurality, so I'll explain with this.

This is an adult brain

This is a child's brain

This is the child's brain developing

With this model, DID (from what I've seen,,) looks like this.

The circles spread out, and might combine into large circles between themselves but not a full one as the brain develops

I'm not sure how accurate this model is, but I've seen people use it to describe DID. This is a sort of simplified version that makes more sense but is probably less detailed

Anyway let's say an endogenic systems starts as a large circle -- though,, this might not always be correct and is probably not majorly correct, since brains take a while to develop (im so sorry if this diagram is confusing. The circles are supposed to resemble child's thoughts/personality traits and how they assemble into a person. Or at least i think--)

Well anyway, an endogenic systems would look like this in my brain:

A part of the person kind of drifts off into its own thing

And then it might turn out like this

Sometimes there's a piece that there's no way to know where came from. They just kind of appear. They might have dropped from the brain, who knows? It can be hard to tell.

These can be fictives, or other alters.

Anyway this is my take/diagram on how endo systems form. It's probably inaccurate, but hopefully we got it mostly right ;;

[felassan]

Snippets 🐺💜

There is faction-themed gear to wear, like if you chose Grey Warden as a background, there is GW gear. [source: The Discord]

"As a faction, the Inquisition doesn't really feature prominently in the story - your appearance options are more reflective of the factions and styles you'll encounter in The Veilguard." [source: The Discord]

body sliders + "a triangle for gradients of body types" [source]

"The team heard us loud and clear on hair styles". Frostbite engine updates served them well. Hair moves with your body and reacts to the wind [source]

For pronouns and gender selections, everything you select is used in the game and in cutscenes [source]

After the bar fight, the choices on how to engage with Varric are "a 'I had you on my side' or 'It went okay, but it worked out' or a haughty answer" [source]

Each companion has a loyalty mission to cement their commitment to you as a leader [source]

Accessibility-type features include full subtitles with or without character names, and directional lines that can be turned on to indicate the direction of incoming projectiles and their timing [source]

"The dev team was very clear that they learned a lot from Inquisition, and that the game would be far more focused. Gone are the busy work tasks, with a greater emphasis on making each interaction memorable" [source]

We'll see more tactical gameplay in the near future [source]

[eirianerisdar]

Eight More Races

Rated G, 1912 words

Also posted to AO3

Summary: Charles looks for Carlos in parc fermé after the Monza 2024 GP. Carlos isn't there.

(:~:)

It isn’t until the photo with his mechanics has been taken and Charles steps off the nose of his car for the second time since the race ended that he realises something is missing.

His shoulders sting with the echo of his team’s enthusiastic slaps as he turns to look down the long length of parc fermé towards pit entry. The other cars have long since all lined up neatly two-by-two, but it still takes a moment to pick out what he is looking for – distinctive Ferrari red, 55 across the nose, parked almost at the very end of the column of cars.

He searches the drivers threading between the cars towards the weighbridge. Any moment now Carlos should be here and Charles will get the hug that he’s been looking forward to ever since they pulled into formation on the in-lap, Carlos waving congratulations at Charles.

But Carlos is nowhere to be seen.

Charles blinks.

He looks again, reminding himself to search for carbon-fibre grey and not crimson, but it is like Carlos has vanished – the Car 55 mechanics already tending to Carlos’s car, the other drivers filtering into the FIA garage.

“Charles,” an Italian-accented voice says urgently. Someone nudges something into his hand.

Charles jolts, looks down at the mic in his palm.

Ah. The post-race interviews. Of course.

The tifosi roar as Charles steps into the interview spot, and all thoughts of his teammate slip away. The joy is there again, somehow brighter and sweeter than his win here in 2019, and he allows the roar of 80,000 tifosi to carry him away.

(:~:)

Carlos doesn’t enter Charles’ thoughts again until he steps into the media pen and scans for the hideous blue HP logo of Carlos’ firepoofs, only to find nothing.

Charles frowns. His circle back to the podium after the ceremony to take photos with the fans below took a little time, yes – but surely Carlos can’t be already done with his interviews?

“Is Carlos already done, do you know?” he asks his press officer as they line up for his first interview.

“I don’t know,” his press officer shrugs.

Charles tells himself it doesn’t mean anything. He knows how much Carlos wanted a podium, today on his birthday, in what might be his last chance with Ferrari. The Carlos he knows wouldn’t be so bitter as to hold this against Charles, surely.

Interviews, then signatures and smiles in the paddock as he jogs back to the garage for team photos. The team roars as Charles appears, hands reaching to hug him and thump his already aching back. He smiles and laughs with them, but doesn’t stop moving, a sudden wave of anxiety crawling up his throat as he shoulders his way through the crowded garage towards the pit lane.

Sunlight, tifosi screaming at him through the fence; for a dizzying moment Charles looks at the space behind the pit board reading Charles P1 and sees nothing but emptiness, but the tifosi roar and suddenly Charles sees what they do – Carlos clinging to the fence on pit wall, waving at them.

Carlos is smiling; even as Charles watches he takes his phone out to take a selfie with the delighted fans below.

Something loosens in Charles’ chest. He steps towards the pit wall, intending to join Carlos, but the photographer is gesturing and shouting in Italian and Charles is pulled to crouch next to the pit board.

Carlos jumps down off pit wall and strides over. He meets Charles’ gaze as he approaches and smiles. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, the skin pink and slightly raw in the Monza sunshine.

Carlos’s eyes are redder than what Charles remembers before the race. His shoulder bumps Charles’ as he crouches behind the pit board as well.

“Charles, the camera!”

Charles snaps his head back towards the photographer and smiles. It is not difficult with the cheers of the tifosi so close, the giddy joy welling up in his gut again.

The team cheers. Charles hears Carlos laugh next to him, slightly hoarse compared to usual, but genuine.

He gets to his feet the same time Carlos does and turns to their team, but the next blast of champagne blasts him directly in the face.

The pit board leaves his hand. Charles turns to flee, but his eyes are already stinging and his vision blurs–

A warm arm wraps around his back. Carlos’s other hand tucks into Charles’ as he hauls Charles to safety, and Charles stumbles out of the icy spray, Carlos’s arm a steady weight around his waist.

Carlos’s laugh is much closer now. The slight hoarseness is much more obvious with their heads right next to each other, temples leaning together as Charles tries to scrub stinging champagne from his eyes.

He raises his head, eyes streaming, smiling so widely his face hurts. Carlos is still right there, one hand resting lightly in the small of Charles’ back. He hasn’t yet let go.

The pit lane is full of cameras, and Charles can feel hands on his back, members of his team reaching for him – but he isn’t thinking about that.

Carlos meets Charles’ gaze. His eyes are rimmed red under the brim of his cap, but he is smiling.

Carlos holds out his hand. “Congrats, Charles,” he says softly.

Something bursts in Charles’ chest – something he hasn’t felt since Monaco, when he had pulled off his balaclava in parc fermé and his teammate was right there.

He does what he did then – ignores the hand Carlos is holding out for him to grasp and steps forward, throwing his full weight into his teammate as he wraps his arms around Carlos’s back and buries his face in Carlos’s shoulder. He feels Carlos stumble back a step, just as he did in Monaco. The laugh that rumbles through Carlos’s chest feels the same, as well. It settles behind Charles’ sternum exactly the same way, familiar, warm.

One of Carlos’s hands tucks behind Charles’ head. “Vamos,” he says, in another echo of Monaco. “Bravo, Charles.”

Charles knows he should probably let go.

But he doesn’t want to.

“Thank you,” he croaks into Carlos’s shoulder. He means for more than the congratulations. Carlos’s work holding up Oscar had helped keep Charles’ win safe.

Carlos’s hand shifts in Charles’ hair as he steps back, still cradling the back of Charles’ head. Carlos’s face is full of fondness. Charles wonders if his own looks the same.

Charles opens his mouth to speak, but there is a joyous bark behind him and he turns to accept Leo’s eager kisses. He tries to kiss his girlfriend but Leo, predicably, gets in the way.

Carlos is nowhere near by the time things have quieted down. Charles looks for him anyway, craning his neck to peer over the media in pit land, and spots Carlos up on the pit wall again, signing caps thrown up to him by the laughing tifosi below.

Charles starts towards him, but there is a hand on his elbow and his press officer is suddenly there, murmuring about the press conference.

“Wait a moment,” Charles tries to say. “Carlos–”

“No, now,” his press officer says urgently. “We are late.”

Charles lets himself be pulled reluctantly into the garage. As the cool shade washes over him, he looks back over his shoulder at the picture of Carlos on the pit wall, commits it to memory - the setting sun lining his dark-shirted silhouette in gold, the laughter in Carlos’s eyes.

Have the wrinkles at the corners of Carlos’s eyes always looked so raw?

The sunlight flares beyond the garage entrance, and Carlos is gone.

(:~:)

Their Vistajet has almost reached Nice by the time Charles finally catches Carlos alone – Leo has had a little accident and Alexandra has taken him to the bathroom to clean up, and Caco has wandered down the cabin to speak to Pierluigi.

“Hey,” Charles says as he sits in Caco’s vacated seat opposite Carlos.

“Hey,” Carlos says. His hair has come down from its spiky mess. It looks soft now, as does the rest of him. Soft, and a little tired.

At least his eyes aren’t red anymore. Charles doesn’t know if he imagined it, at this point – the rawness in Carlos’s gaze as he stood on the pit wall fence, the melancholy in his shoulders even as he laughed with the fans.

He doesn’t want to assume. The last time he had assumed Carlos’s intentions and let his emotions run out in front of the press had been Barcelona, and he regrets what he said then to this day. Carlos had deserved better.

Carlos is looking at him a little oddly, now. Charles realises with a start that he has been staring.

“Anybody home?” Carlos says. One of his white trainers nudges teasingly at Charles’ foot.

“Sorry,” Charles says. He searches for the right words. “Are you okay?”

He winces the moment the words come out of his mouth. He’d wanted to be more subtle than that.

Some of the wistfulness returns to Carlos’s gaze. “Well, you know,” he says, smiling. “I cannot say I was not a little bit jealous. But I am happy for you.”

“You are?” Charles blurts. He doesn’t know why he feels so relieved about that. He knew Carlos was happy for him. He’d known from the moment Carlos smiled at him in pit lane, or even before that – when Carlos had waved to him on the in-lap, their cars flying in perfect formation, connected by an invisible string.

“Of course,” Carlos says, mock-offended. He reaches for a cushion and throws it gently at Charles’s stomach. “Why would I not be happy? I spent something like fifteen laps fighting for you, too. I am happy it worked.” He is smirking a little at Charles now, seeking praise.

Charles swallows, looks over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear. He doesn’t know why he does that. It’s not like anything he plans to say is a secret.

“I,” he says, and coughs to clear his throat. “I really wanted you on this podium, Carlos. With me.”

To his embarrassment, his voice wavers. He coughs again to cover it up, but he knows when he meets Carlos’s gaze that Carlos has read him like an open book.

Carlos’s gaze softens. He leans forward across the space between their seats, puts a hand over Charles’. “Me too,” he says.

Carlos’s wheel-callouses are rough against the back of Charles’ hand. Charles takes a slow breath, flips his hand over to squeeze Carlos’s palm.

He can imagine what people would say, if a photo of this ever got onto social media. But Charles doesn’t think he needs or wants to explain this – these moments he and Carlos have sometimes, where they don’t need to speak to understand each other. The closest he can compare it to is the stories about soldiers he read as a child – friends who understand each other so deeply because of shared experiences that their partnership cannot be described.

He misses Carlos already, and they still have eight races to go.

Maybe he should say it. It might help.

The seatbelt lights turn on overhead. The pilot’s voice comes over the speakers, announcing their descent towards Nice.

Charles takes a breath. He holds on tightly to Carlos’s hand for a moment longer, hoping Carlos understands.

Carlos’s hand tightens in his for just an moment, and Charles knows Carlos understands.

END

(:~:)

Notes:

I have no excuse for this have some Charlos angst and fluff. Not Icarus-verse, but I've put it under my general F1 series.

Also I wrote the hug before I even saw the hug photos online they really are that predictable lol. Some of the exact blocking varies from the real life video because I wrote it before all the social media videos came out, but the gist is there.

For my regular readers, Icarus will update probably sometime next week, and I have planned a lengthy charlos outtake after the end of the fic. Feel free to check it out if you're a new reader and haven't seen it yet, it's an ensemble wingfic that's primarily maxiel-based but it features nearly ever other driver and platonic pairing on the grid.

Come yell at me in my askbox or read fics for other fandoms on my main Ao3 EirianErisdar!

[stressfulsloth]

Thinking about Disco Elysium and stars. Something about communal experience and simultaneous isolation, hope and idealism, fear and beauty and terror and burning. The inherent horror in the vast romantic starscape of the sky, the melancholy and loneliness inherent in the untold distance, a communal experience of something too enormous to fathom. Stars bear witness to humanity, to the millions of tiny people crawling on the face of Elysium. They watch the people, and the people watch back, and make up stories about the stars. Stars symbolise love, hope, something unreachable and unattainable.

The way that the light of the stars reaches every single being in Elysium, from human to phasmid, but no matter how far it reaches it is still a cold and distant glow, always on the verge of going out. A moral brilliance, a holy light to strive towards, something always at risk of burning out, but there's a dichotomy too. A duality between the stars as brutal unfeeling observers, moralists even, like the aerostatics flying overhead, tiny dying lights that watch impassively over every terrible thing in the world, and the flipside; stars as the burning kernels of hope, furious burning flames that parallel Harry and his golden-orange forest fire nature. Stars as the light of communism, the star-and-antlers. They're hope and dreams- a million years in the stars. Rockstars and superstars. The light of a brighter future (however short-term that future might be) coming towards them at the end of the tunnel. It makes me think of Sacred and Terrible Air and the light pollution in Vassa- ending light pollution as the world ends. "You may laugh at this, but in the evening, when the big world in the distance swells into a bloody maelstrom, families come out into the street in Vaasa and are insignificant together. Only distant explosions disturb the deep peace of the winter night, its flawless starry sky. Everyone watches, heads tilted back." The stars are a shared experience. Something that everyone watches, insignificant together, when there's nothing more that can be done. Light in the face of darkness, community in the face of inevitability. Togetherness. The stars are there in the church with the ravers. They're there watching Harry and Kim together. Insignificant together. In dark times, should the stars also go out?

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

next

[thankstothe]

Ok

[bambi-kinos]

Hopefully, this ask is a fun one! I've noticed that a lot of times you mention Paul is a bottom, and honestly, I agree 1000% per cent, but I'm curious how you came to that conclusion

For me, I feel like it was a result of tons of reading up on him, body language + his lyrics, and I think the whole control freak (misleading in a way too) part makes some fans think he's a top. Meanwhile, I sit here and think, nope, he's totally a bottom lmao

A lot of it is just wish fulfillment as a result of Paul's bus-sized ass. We're not the only ones thinking about it:

Like it would be a crime if John didn't fuck Paul in the ass. Right??? So it's easy to think "yeah Paul is a bottom" rofl.

But more seriously, I view Paul as a bottom for a number of reasons.

The first is simply how long John and Paul knew each other and how they naturally shaped each other's interests and desires. Paul may not have been that 'swishy' (i.e. effeminate) if he had never met John in the first place. It's easy to see how John and Paul's understanding of homosexuality would have shaped their presentation and the roles they took with one another. Like, in modern times two gay guys can just be Guys Being Dudes. They can both take shirtless selfies of themselves holding up fish with the 🤙 going "shaka braaahhh." In the mid 20th century this idea was not terribly widespread so even among gay people there was an impression of "well someone has to be the woman and it's not going to be me."

So I think that's a big part of it. It's impossible to know how conscious a decision this was but IMO John and Paul reached a consensus of some sort that Paul would take up the feminine role in response to John's masculine one. It's a natural (for a given value of 'natural') position for the feminine half to be the one who is penetrated. Paul, who has demonstrated a number of times his sharp awareness of homosexual activity and how society perceives it, would know this. And he took up that position anyway and kept with it, voluntarily. (And to be clear I think Paul stimulated John's butch attitude and grew that to make John more overtly masculine as well. This goes both ways.)

It's not hard to see why this happened. John is a lot more naturally traditionally masculine than Paul is, no matter what John said about being "soft velvet" and "le Oscar Wilde!!11!!1!" He's the one who got into bar fights and hammered the shit out of other men. He's the subject of a rumor about kicking Stuart in the head, not Paul. Personally I think Paul is perfectly capable of violence, even extreme violence, but he simply isn't perceived that way due to his feminine appearance. Meanwhile John is overtly aggressive and in your face about it, even when going through his druggie periods, which is simply a more traditionally masculine trait no matter how you slice it.

I guess what I'm saying is, Paul responded to and was shaped by John's personality and preferences. John likes to fuck, Paul leans more towards feminine expression, feminine = 'the one who is fucked' not necessarily 'the one who fucks.'

I don't believe they were thinking about this as teenagers (and I don't think they did anything besides circlejerking before Hamburg.) And Paul likes using his dick! However it seems obvious to me that John woke something up in Paul that would have naturally lain dormant under other circumstances. John had a habit of doing this for people, he woke them up to their higher inclinations that got them out of their boxes and I 100% believe that he nudged Paul's 'swishiness' awake and that Paul quietly used this to get out of the box other people wanted to keep him in. He was able to embrace this more fully while with Linda. For Paul, that swishiness comes packaged with a certain set of implications and to me there's no reason why he wouldn't embrace that.

That's not to say that he was completely gung-ho from the start. People who write Paul going 'wtf I'm not doing that' in response to John wanting to fuck him are writing material that feels 'real' for lack of a better word. But I also don't think it would be that hard of a sell once he got used to the idea. Really look at this gif:

John's interest in Paul's backside is overt. Paul seems surprised and a little overwhelmed in the moment but he also smiles a little in response to John checking him out. It seems to me that there's interest there, albeit tentative. In other words Paul seems okay with being the one who is piped.

It's a lot to surmise from a single gif, I know, but otoh we don't have a lot of these moments where John's feelings are overt and Paul responds to them.

In addition to all this, Paul is a curious hedonist. I think John could prevail on him to at least try it. Then I think Paul would enjoy it greatly. Anal orgasms are somewhere between clitoral and vaginal for me but anal sex is satisfying in a way that PIV isn't, and I think Paul would actively seek it out once he tried it and realized how good it is. Anal sex is extremely intimate and John paid close attention to his lovers, Paul is guaranteed a good time once John takes him to bed. And John would want to make that special for Paul especially once Paul did 'break down' and go 'alright I'll do it' as part of their kinky power game. John did like to make things sweet for Paul.

Paul has this whole thing about wanting to be John's second and not necessarily the leader. He enjoys being lead and dominated by powerful men who are at the top of their industry. Check out this quote from McCartney Legacy Vol. 1 in Chapter 26:

Paul explicitly giving in to a "strong and demanding" male after putting up a perfunctory fight that he had no intention of sticking to? What does this remind us of?

And look, Paul invites this himself very deliberately:

Paul is doing this on purpose. He shows his ass off to entice us, the viewers, into imagining his hole and putting our dicks inside said hole and inside him. Women appreciate a nice ass but lack the equipment to fuck it properly. Men do have the equipment and by 1965 Paul knows his effect on heterosexual men. He's very much dangling the fuckability of his ass as a carrot in front of everyone who wants to look. No other Beatle displays this kind of overt neediness for this specific kind of attention. Paul knows what he is doing.

Paul is a bottom. A needy and bratty bottom who enjoys being put in his place and has a thick kinky streak to be sure, but a bottom nonetheless.

The insistence that Paul is a top has always smacked of contrarianism, to me anyway lmao. It's always packaged with making fun of McLennon fanart where Paul is yassified and John is butch or with complaints that Beatle fandom is making Paul "too feminine" and John "too masculine." There's a lot I could say about it but for now I'll just leave it at this: it's usually paired with bitching that McLennon fans are having too much fun. Many are guilty of it.

John and Paul themselves acknowledged this dynamic between them in oblique ways. John, Paul, and even Yoko always imagined Paul as being a woman as well as acknowledging that Paulina would have been romantically attached to John. Paul acknowledged it with the "if I were a woman maybe I could have...." thing, Yoko said that Paul would be a "great threat" if he was a woman in her audio diary that she recorded in 1968/1969, and John also has a quote floating around about the potential that lay in Paul being a woman though I'll be damned if I can't find the stupid thing. And then there's the insulting "Lennon's Princess" nickname from Apple staff. They perceived the dynamic as well.

John and Paul, consciously or not, actively pursued this dynamic with one another. They enjoyed it and Paul voluntarily stayed in that role even during a time period where he might have been justified in going "okay we've hit the big time, no more of that!"

Just look at Paul's posture here lmao. John is shoving his erection into Paul's shoulder. Yeah he's trying to hide it but Paul is fine with it, shoulders relaxed with no tension in him at all. Paul wasn't just John's princess, John was also Paul's knight, and that comes with certain responsibilities as well as privileges.

John was overtly more stable when he had sex on tap. John and Paul actively lived together for months at a time where few people could get to them. Seems to me that Paul not only did his job but took a lot of pleasure in doing it and John reaped the benefits. Notably John didn't start falling apart until they stopped touring and his sexual access to Paul was bottlenecked. Then 1967 rolls around and John just sorta, moved in with Paul and noticeably got back on an even keel.

Many thunks are to be had my friend! Many thunks indeed and one of them is that Paul is a bottom. Not just that, an enthusiastic one that likes courting powerful and even emotionally unstable males capable of overpowering him.

Much to consider!