#and then he did it again just to spite me

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[postcardsfromheapside]

No. I wasn't missing the point of most criticism. Literally, I saw post after post of people saying they wished the characters could be mean to each other. Some posts were more specific, like "I don't like Taash," (and I'm sure you can imagine what THAT'S about) and some were more ambigious but cited DA2 and how everyone was bitchy toward each other.

I honestly don't care where you work and what you do, because hopefully most of us after the age of 30 have experienced an adult job where we have to be reasonable with our coworkers, even if we strongly disagree, or outright dislike them. I had the suspicion that most people who think that there is "no conflict," or "low conflict" or "bad writing" in this game haven't experienced this kind of setting in any capacity. What I'm now hearing is that you might have, but you didn't absorb any of the dialogue, or switch out your party to listen to banter, which is an essential function for picking up information in any DA game.

I walked around Arlathan with Lucanis and Harding, and they have a whole ongoing conversation in which she threatens him with one of her special arrows. And he agrees that if Spite should take him over, she should do something about it. Harding isn't frightened, because Harding isn't a pushover, but she's not taking any shit either. Did you walk around with just the two of them right after recruiting Lucanis? Did you frequently visit the rest of the companions so that you could see just how much Lucanis and Davrin *didn't* get along? Neve mentions what sounded like a knock-down drag out fight.

**Just because this isn't explicitly mentioned to you doesn't make it bad writing - it means you haven't had the time we had with Inquisition to play the game over and over and switch out your party so you can see everyone's interactions with each other. You will actually have to play the game multiple times and switch your party out a fair amount in order to see these interactions. Or wait for people to post them to tumblr. You can complain about how unfair this is, or remember that Inquisition has 10 years on this game, and it's been out for just shy of a month.**

Why in the absolute fuck would Davrin manufacture conflict between himself and someone he could easily conjecture isn't pro-slavery based on the fact that within five minutes he could find out she's from Dock Town, she's a private investigator working with the Shadow Dragons, and LITERALLY WHEN YOU GET ONTO THE DOCK WITH HIM, her first priority as she's running back to Minrathous is to say "if the dragon wrecks havoc, the Venatori will take over." Davrin isn't an idiot, he could pretty well surmise that she's not "pro slavery" with only the barest of interactions and Rook saying "yeah Neve's cool."

Why would Neve yell at you? Why is it bad writing for the writers to give Neve a personality you don't agree with, because you're uncomfortable with how she reacts? Neve's an adult who is used to working on her own and people not showing up for her - she says this MULTIPLE TIMES - it's actually a large arc of bonding with her, as a friend and a lover. She's not going to scream at you, she's so far past the point of being loud about disappointment, she's on the other side, for one, and for another, she does in fact understand that the entire North of Thedas is on fire and blighting Treviso is pretty fucking bad when it has no major defenses. Rook doesn't endlessly apologize. She came back after a short pause and while I didn't have her healing abilities after that, it didn't take long for me to boost my bond with her back up and feel like we were friends again.

This honestly feels like you're having a personal reaction that you need to examine, and it's not something to do with the writing, since the game mechanics and the dialogue don't actually bear out what you're putting down here.

All of the companions who have conflict initially have to figure out how to trust each other and it sometimes takes most of the game for them to do that. If you didn't spend the time listening to their banter as they work their way through it, that's not Bioware's problem. That's you. And...I don't want to have repeated conversations where I go into Emmrich's (my romance) room and "vent"? I didn't do that with Cullen. I didn't do that with Anders. Why would it suddenly be a thing here? But if you listen in to people's conversations, they do express dismay and doubt and fear about the various quests they've been on. Again, it feels like you didn't spend the time eavesdropping or taking people out and listening to banter.

I have no idea what you're talking about with flirting. I flirted with every companion at first even though I knew I was running for Emmrich, and all of them responded according to their personality. I romanced Cullen in Inquisition, and he was pretty quiet initially, until you get to Skyhold, and similarly, most of the companions here retain a certain reticence until the game progresses. But if you're looking for people who get flustered - Lace and Bellara absolutely do! And Emmrich isn't flustered, but he's taken aback a few times before he collects himself and flirts back - though whether you'd actually recognize it for flirting, I'm starting to wonder. The fact that you can't tell with Neve is actually making me tilt my head at the screen, and I say this as a self-confessed disaster who is very very bad at knowing someone is interested. Even I can tell what's going on in DA romances.

This is probably a lost cause, but I urge you to either spend time playing the game again, or watch someone else who really loves DA (and is Veilguard positive) play so that you can watch without being in the thick of it, and hopefully experience more dialogue and different choices.

No, I'm not done yet, I'm house sitting and she left me snacks and soda and not even god could keep me from venting my spleen at this point.

"I wish the companions were meaner to each other in this game, like in DA2."

While I think there's a larger argument to be made discussing the similarities between DA2 and Veilguard, I need everyone to get so close to me right now about a glaring difference:

DA2 involved a ragtag group of assholes with their own agendas coalescing around Hawke's personality or exchange of favors. There was no larger "goal," except maybe Varric's expedition - everything else is encountered as circumstance. You wend your way through your companions' stories while a city winds ever tighter into itself, a spring about to literally explode.

There's zero reason for these people to be nice to each other. They have no point in being around each other except Hawke. They can bitch at each other all they like.

Rook becomes Varric's second in command (I've seen one post say it's about 6 months before the events of the game) with an explicit purpose: find and stop Solas. Harding and Neve are recruited as experts in their respective fields for this particular goal. When it all goes to shit, Neve recruits another expert, Lucanis, to deal with the fallout, and Harding finds Davrin, *also* an expert in his field (monster hunting). When Rook has to make a particularly consequence heavy decision, two more are added to the crew: Emmrich (Fade expert) and Taash (dragon expert). All of these people are extremely competent, and know from the jump that they have one particular goal in mind.

They join ready to work together on Day 1 because if they don't, there's simply no other alternative. It's lights out. Even when they mistrust each other, the direness of the situation is not lost on them. Infighting serves no purpose. That's why the struggle is directed inward: clean up your own house, so we can move as a single unit.

Honestly the fact that what people took away from this game was "I wish my friends were meaner to each other" and not "wow, I wish we all worked together to keep evil dictators from taking over" is fucking mindblowing when I sit back and reread this.

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

or

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

or

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

R.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

[dreamdragonkadia]

Give me Rook who is struggling to grieve and is angry with the world

Crow!Rook

Spoilers for Veilguard

It really was a funny thing, when you thought about it—the Demon of Vyrantium, Lucanis Dellamorte, half-asleep against your legs. The same man who scoffed at the very idea of rest, claiming he never truly slept. And yet, here he was, his features softened by the edge of dreams, his breathing steady as your fingers threaded through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. It was peaceful, in a way that felt stolen—like a moment ripped from a story you had no right to claim.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of calm. Not since you’d been pulled into this whole tangled web of gods and schemes. A bitter laugh caught in your throat at the thought. Would it be wrong to admit how angry you were about it all? At Solas? At Varric? Especially Varric. The bastard. For dragging you into this mess, for making you care so damn much. For giving you a name—Rook—and then vanishing, leaving you to deal with it all alone. You knew it was grief talking, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Damn Varric and his stupid, sentimental names. Damn him for seeing something in you and putting a label on it that you couldn’t shake. And damn him most of all for leaving you behind.

You swallowed hard, forcing the sadness back down before it could claw its way to the surface. That wasn’t a luxury you could afford—not here, not now. A Crow’s first lesson: never let them see what you’re feeling. You’d learned it well. Too well, maybe. Even Viago had grumbled more than once about how impossible it was to read you. A damn fine Crow, indeed.

But fine Crows didn’t sit around like this, did they? Stroking the hair of a man who had somehow, against all odds, become too close to your heart. A man like Lucanis, who could slip a blade between your ribs as easily as he breathed. Not that you believed he’d ever do it—not now, not to you. He was too close, too vulnerable. And you were no better, your guard lowered in ways that would have once terrified you. It was almost endearing, really, if you ignored how dangerous it was. For both of you.

You sighed, shifting slightly, and Lucanis stirred, his brow furrowing before he relaxed again. The warmth of him seeped into your legs, keeping you in this fleeting moment that could end at any given time. You’d never admit it aloud, but maybe you didn’t mind it. Maybe, for once, you could let yourself have this. Just for a little while longer.

Because who knew when the next storm would hit?

Your fingers paused for a moment, hovering just above his hair. “I thought you didn’t sleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucanis grumbled something unintelligible, shifting again so that his head rested more firmly against your lap. “I don’t,” he said after a beat, though his voice was sluggish, the words drawn out. “This isn’t sleeping. It’s... resting. There’s a difference.”

You snorted softly, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Sure, because this is so different from sleeping. Next, you’ll tell me you don’t dream either.”

“I don’t,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it, just the lazy drawl of someone too close to sleep to argue properly. “Dreams are for the dead. And Spite.”

“Charming,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “And yet here you are, practically drooling on me.”

He opened one eye, pinning you in place. “If I drooled, Rook, you’d be the first to know.” His lips curled into a faint smile before the eye slid shut again. “You’re too good at reminding me.”

Your fingers resumed their lazy path through Lucanis’s hair, less to soothe him and more to distract yourself. “You’re lucky you’re cute like this,” you said, letting the teasing edge into your voice. “Otherwise, I’d shove you off and call it a mercy.”

“Cute?” He scoffed, though it came out more like a rumble. “If you think this is cute, you’ve got terrible taste.”

“Better than none at all,” you shot back, earning another quiet grunt. He didn’t respond further, his breathing evening out again, and you were struck by how utterly still he seemed. It was unnerving, seeing someone like him so vulnerable. The pride of house Dellamorte, who always carried himself like he was a moment away from striking. The Demon of Vyrantium, who’d slit a man’s throat before he’d let anyone close enough to see him like this.

But here he was, trusting you with this fragile piece of himself.

Your fingers slowed, your gaze drifting. “You know, I used to hate silence,” you admitted quietly, not really expecting a response. “Too much room for thinking. For remembering.” You swallowed hard, the words threatening to stick in your throat. “But now? Sometimes I think it’s the only thing keeping me sane.”

Lucanis shifted, his head nestling slightly deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you thought he’d finally slipped fully into sleep. The room settled around you, quiet save for the soft rhythm of his breaths. But then a voice—low, guttural, and unmistakably not Lucanis.

“Silence. Is luxury. Enjoy it. While it lasts.”

Spite.

Your eyes flicked down, half-expecting some shift in the demon’s form, but Lucanis didn’t move, not even a twitch. Instead, you could’ve sworn the faintest rumble, like a purr, came from him. The thought of it almost made you laugh.

“Guess that answers whether or not you’re awake,” you muttered under your breath, though Spite didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t like he cared about conversation unless it served his purpose. “Oh, I’m sure silence won’t last,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not with rampaging gods breathing down my neck. Not with everything falling apart.”

Lucanis—or rather Spite—opened his eyes, just a sliver, those unnerving purple irises locking onto yours. There was something uncomfortably knowing in that gaze, something that made your stomach twist even though you knew Spite wasn’t a threat to you. At least, not right now.

“Then don’t. Fall apart. With it,” Spite said simply. “You are better. Rook.”

The nickname made something shift. You weren’t sure whether to feel comforted or suffocated by it anymore. But before you could decide, Spite’s presence seemed to wane, the glow of his eyes dimming as Lucanis stirred, letting out a soft grunt. For a fleeting moment, you thought he’d woken fully, but no. He merely shifted, his head turning slightly, and let out another one of those quiet, almost purring noises.

You shook your head, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Great. I’m getting pep talks from a demon now,” you mumbled. “How far have I fallen?”

There was no answer, not from Lucanis—nor Spite, either. It left you alone with thoughts you weren’t ready to face.

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[heechwe]

❝ Do you honestly think I could possibly want anyone else when this is what you do to me? ❞ + physical action: 3 + location 17! Can you do with jeonghan from seventeen??

THANK YOU!! You’re creating these so fast and so well done! That’s talent 🩷

HBWRFJKETGJN YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRY TYSM ANON :"))) using it as a smut exercise fr i get so shy writing it maybe this'll help

It was no secret to everyone but you that your relationship with Jeonghan was inevitable. Being a makeup artist for the team, you played off quickly that you would not fall for a single one of your clients. In spite of all the flirting you shared with the handsome idol, it was strictly professional in your eyes.

Where you saw a wall, Jeonghan saw a window.

This led to you holding him hostage in his hotel room with your hips grinding roughly into his. Ultimately, the sexual tension was too much to bear. You thought about him since the start of your flight to Hong Kong to the second you made it to your respective rooms, and your resolve could not longer hold up.

That doesn’t mean doubts don’t linger.

Was it normal for him to find interest in the staff? Did he have any true intentions past this night? What would you say after the dust settled?

You mewl into his mouth as your center makes contact with his bulge over the cotton of his jeans, but it also makes you stop short of kissing him further. “Is this going to be a one-time thing? I don’t expect you to be into just one person—you’re famous I know—but it’s—“

Jeonghan ends your rambling with a particularly deep kiss, his tongue poking the inside of one of your cheeks. He separates your mouths and places one of your hands on his dick, the denim material straining to hold it down. “Do you honestly think I could possibly want someone else when this is what you do to me?”

He switches your positions on the bed and thrusts his body into yours, the friction of your clothes causing a moan to leave both of your throats. “After tonight, I don’t think I’ll want another person again.”

hosting a drabble game; come request one!🤍

[nightmare--void]

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind AU where Suguru erases Satoru from his memory and then Satoru does the same out of spite

But unlike in the movie they’re not meeting each other for the next ten years after that. Till one day someone leaks the files that were kept in the archive by the company that provides the service.

It’s been ten years already. Satoru touches an old ink on paper that forms a date like it's supposed to make everything feel more real. These memories are older than some of his students. He barely even remembers what kind of a person he was back then. All that’s left from his early twenties is a faint feeling of absence — as if he was missing a place that never existed.

Turns out it was a person.

«Do I just tell you everything I think about?» his own voice on the tape asks. «Anything? That’ll help to perform the procedure, right?»

He doesn’t remember this conversation.

He doesn't remember going to that clinic at all.

He goes through the tapes listening to himself — funnily familiar, — his words are almost petty sometimes.

«Suguru never wants to watch the movies I want,» the voice on the tape says. «He complains that I’m being repetitive. I’ve been watching a lot of new stuff lately, you know. I’ve watched ten new movies for the pas…»

His finger skips to another timestamp marked on the list.

«A Chinese restaurant».

«I asked him out that day. I wanted to go to that new Chinese place because I wanted us to feel like a couple again,» the voice says. «It's been a while since we went out together. Yeah, I've been busy, but he’s always in the wrong mood when it comes to anything I suggest. How is that my fault now?»

Does it still matter? That Chinese place he was talking about was closed eight years ago — redesigned to be a convenience store or something like that — now it probably belongs to some retail chain with all doors indistinguishable from one another. He’s moved two times since then.

And another one.

«He’s always sulky, you see. Even after sex lately. I can picture that… Ugh, I can picture that face he does. Right now, I can do it. And he always says he’s fine like I'm supposed to guess what might make him happy. And I never can. Can you get it erased first so that I don’t have to think about it anytime I close my eyes? Can you do it first?»

«This procedure is done in one go,» the doctor answers. «No particular order. Please, continue».

He does.

«He said I can’t change and he doesn’t want to force me. Well, I’m sorry I don’t like to let go of the things that I love. Is that worse than not being able to commit to anything even when it’s hard?»

«I hope he’d be happy if he knew I'm doing this. That's certainly a change, right?»

And another one.

«He never tells me anything», the voice on the tape says. «Not even when I ask. It’s like I know something’s not right but I can’t get an answer out of him. Or I can't formulate the right question, he'd like to answer. It fries my brain.»

«The other day he said we don’t see eye to eye anymore. Why can’t he just talk to me? Why couldn’t he talk to me till it was too late?»

And another.

«Is he punishing me for something I can’t understand?»

The room falls silent. Dead — haunted by the memories. Do they still belong to him or have they turned into ghosts by now? Separate beings with their own mind and will.

He caresses a postcard from Okinawa — unfamiliar handwriting and a ripped edge, he almost feels a salty wind on his tongue, — an old monster figurine, a plain white t-shirt that belonged to Suguru. And the pictures.

They’re so happy in all of them. But the voice on the tape keeps repeating.

«He got me eased. He got me fucking erased. He got me erased.»

Why the fuck did he do that?

Mad at the person he doesn’t even know. Like it’s the only thing that matters in the world right now. Like nothing's happened after that in his life. No new apartments, no new jobs, no new vacations, no new boyfriends.

He’s been through a few relationships in the past ten years but none hurt enough to even consider anything like that.

Because he never loved them.

Because he still loved someone else.

At least now he knows why his life felt empty when he woke up alone in that crammed apartment that somehow felt too big. And why it felt so lonely ever since.

He goes through the files — none of the records contain an address or a phone number. Or an answer to the question on his mind.

What if Suguru is happy with the procedure? What if the words — falling out of his own mouth out of spite — were true.

A call wakes him up on a Saturday morning.

«Hello, Satoru-u,» there’s a smile in that man’s voice he can hear. «I mean… Sorry if it’s too… Sorry. I don’t know if you’re a morning person or a night person.»

He gulps.

That’s him that’s him that is

thatisSuguruthatisSuguruthatisSuguruSuguru from the postcards who bought him figurines as a gift

Suguru who didn’t want to go to a place that doesn’t exist anymore

Suguru who didn’t want to tell him anything

who thought he can’t change or adjust to the changes — yet they’re both still caught

shit

SuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguru

it's him

«Uh, I got…» he coughs. «I went to bed late last night.»

«Did you get the files?»

«Yes, I…» he laughs. «We were a shitty couple, weren’t we?»

And then Suguru laughs too.

A laughs that feels like a first sound of thunder after the drought — like those memories are dried flowers everyone thought were dead till the rain came.

«You’re with anyone right now?» Suguru asks.

«No,» answer’s too fast but he takes a pause before he says: «What about you?»

«No, not really. It’s not serious I guess.»

Satoru smirks.

«Not enough to get them erased from your memory, right?»

A joke doesn’t land as well as he expected. For a moment he almost believes Suguru’s going to hang up on him.

But still he continues.

«I don’t know…» he says. «I don’t know if I should apologise for something I can’t remember but I feel really sorry.»

«I don’t know if I can forgive something I can’t remember.»

Another pause.

Should he — if there’s nothing that holds these memories anymore. It’s like someone dug out a time capsule you hid under an oak tree when you were a child. All those names and events in your notes that were so important. Yet you don’t even remember half of the names.

It still hurts though.

«Yeah, I guess,» Suguru sighs. «I think there’s a bright side to it. We’re older now so we won’t repeat the same mistakes.»

«You think?»

«That's how it's supposed to be when you're getting mature.»

«Hm-m,» Satoru smiles. «I don't know about that actually. We're more experienced now. So we can always use that knowledge to make things worse.»

Sharing another laugh that’s warmer and more familiar like his brain is riddled with the scars that started itching all at once.

They used to laugh a lot, it strikes him.

They used to tease each other, they used to kiss and make love. He used to remember that person’s voice and face better than his own.

Why did he let go of that?

Why didn’t he let it heal and warm him? Because somehow he still knows that guy — he knows what'll make him laugh and he's sure they even talk similarly sometimes, using the same words and phrases.

Why did he let it go?

«Wanna meet?» Suguru asks.

«Do you?»

«Yeah. At least we’ll find out if we're the biggest idiots in the whole world or not.»

«I know I am,» Satoru nods as if they're in the same room and all of a sudden he realises that he doesn't want this conversation to end. «Besides, I think the company’s going to get sued after the incident. There're plenty of other idiots who would want some compensation from them. Which means we’re not getting another chance to chop our brains again. Do you think we can get some money though? I could use a new car. Or a fridge. Probably a vacuum cleaner would do. That's the mature stuff, right?»

A laugh that could belong to a couple of teens — head over heels in love — something he thought he never experienced.

Turns out he did.

And there’s still time.

[msunitedstatesjames]

Ranking Veilguard Companion Questlines:

This ranking is truly based off how much I enjoyed the questlines overall, not how much I like each character. I liked all the companions and overall liked their quests, but some really stood out to me more than others.

7. Neve

Neve was one of my favorite companions in terms of personality, and depending on the choices you make she can have a really interesting role in the endgame. However, her quests felt kind of bland and one note to me. Evil blood mages are kind of old hat in the DA games at this point, and Aelia just didn't really stand out from the crowd as a villain. There were some pretty gruesome moments in the final quest where Aelia is puppeting people, but overall I just didn't find these quests to be super memorable.

6. Harding

This one should probably be higher up the list just for its lore implications, but for some reason I just didn't feel all that engaged with her storyline. I guess I wanted a little more. Harding implies that she's struggling with her powers, but we're never really shown much of that, other than the fact that she has confusing dreams now. She talks about her anger in regards to the Titan revelation, but again, I think we needed more. She only really seems angry for brief moments here and there, which makes it a little hard to believe when her final choice is pretty much whether or not to hold onto her anger. She does talk about how she's kind of a people pleaser and likes to seem cheerful as a result, but if that's the case they still coild have done more with that.

5. Bellara

Going into this, I had to remind myself about some of the details of Bellara's storyline, because other than the situation with her brother I didn't immediately remember her plot. The problem I have with her story is that sometimes it feels like there are two separate issues at play, the Archive and her brother. They do end up being connected, but it feels kind of loose. Dealing with the feelings of betrayal and grief in regards to her brother did add an important emotional resonance to her story, so that helped rank her above some others. The choice you make in the end feels very meaningful in terms of the world, but we don't have the chance to see it play out in any meaningful way within the game. I would have liked to see a noticeable shift of some kind, at least in Veiljumper territory, based on Bellara's choice, but all we got is one moment in the finale where the game has to tell us we're seeing the results of her decision.

4. Lucanis

Lucanis's storyline had some pretty cool scenes. The Ossuary. Going into his own mind. Confronting Zara. But considering everything he has going on, at times his storyline seemed like it needed more fleshing out. This dude is a non-mage possessed by a demon. Is that ever really explained other than by the fact that Zara was just a freaky, evil experimenter? We've had so many characters in DA with absolutely nightmarish experiences with possession, and honestly everyone is just pretty cool with Lucanis and Spite just being a chill partnership, maybe because he's not a mage. I know there are comments about how people probably aren't actually cool with it, Lucanis says as much about the Crows in the end, but we don't really get to see that. It might have been interesting for there to be more tangible tension between Lucanis and those around him based on his demonic possession.

3. Taash

I really struggled with where to place Taash's questline, as some aspects felt quite weak and others felt deeply meaningful. In the end, I surprised myself by ranking them so high. When I immediately look back on their questlines, there doesn't seem to be a lot there. Taash hunts around for some dragons, has dinner with their mom, and finally in the end fights the Dragon King. Taash's story is perhaps less related to the overall plot of Veilguard than any other character but Emmrich, which didn't necessarily help. And though I find Taash's quest for identity to be an important one, it doesn't lend itself to the same kind of excitement as some of the others. Still, emotionally this series of quests ends up doing a lot of heavy lifting. Specifically, I found Taash's relationship with Shathann to lend a lot to their story. Even if you can't relate to Taash's struggles with gender or identity, almost everyone can relate to the struggle between a parent and a child. I was never quite sure what to think of Shathann. And I think that's very real. When I look at the parents of my friends and loved ones I often see the duality of everything they've done out of love for their children and everything they've done that has harmed them. At times I found Shathann to be caring and protective, at other times to be borderline abusive and too desiring of control over Taash's life. And though this situtaion might be extreme compared to many people's experiences with their parents, there's an almost innate toxicity to all parent child relationships at one point or another, as a child tries to grow in one direction that might not be what the parent wants or hopes. And I think these quests walk that thin line we all tread at one point or another in our lives, where you have someone that you love even when you feel that they don't deserve your love or deserve you, but you still can't help but care about them anyway. But in the end Taash does love their mother, and when Shathann dies Taash's rage feels very real, as does their entire relationship dynamic throughout the game.

2. Davrin

Davrin's story benefits from being perhaps more closely tied in to the world and the story of Veilguard than any other. The Grey Wardens and the Blight have always been central to DA, and only Origins has made them more central than Veilguard did. But Davrin and Assan really did steal my heart. At first, I didn't find Davrin to be especially exciting. He seemed like just another stoic warrior type. But the more time you spent with he and Assan and the other Wardens, the more you came to love him. The Gloom Howler storyline, along with the return of the griffons, was fascinating and the stakes felt extremely high. The stakes felt so high in fact that I often wondered how Davrin remained so calm as Rook paraded around the Necropolis Gardens or Arlathan while the Gloom Howler was off somewhere doing who knew what to the world's only family of griffons. The choice you made about the griffons was honestly the hardest in the game for me. Many of the other choices felt obvious from a typical heroic video game character sense of morality, where the game designers seem to want you to pick the happy, cheerful, forgiving route over any other. But the griffon choice had no obvious answer to a question I didn't even expect to be asked, and I stared at the screen for a while before I made it. My one problem with this is that it felt bizarre for Rook to even be making such a choice. And the other good thing about this quest is that at least you get to visit with the griffons a few times after the choice to get a little taste of how your choice is panning out. The interesting thing will be to see if this choice plays into any future DA stories and games.

1.Emmrich

All right, I can't even pretend to be unbiased here. If you scroll through my blog you will see countless Emmrich posts. This dude was my unexpected romance choice and my unexpected favorite companion in the game. He has interesting commentary in most situations, his voice acting is delightful, and he stands out as a fresh and unique character among many wonderful DA companions over the years. But this is supposed to be about his questline, not just how much I adore him. I've written extensively about my love for these quests elsewhere on my blog, but I'll restate the basics here. His questline had one major thing going for it from the very beginning, that being that we've heard much about the Mourn Watch and the Necropolis, but have never had the chance to experience any of it. I was immediately intrigued to learn more about them. I very much expect a certain dark and spooky vibe from Necromancers, but in many ways the Necromancers in this questline defy expectations. Yeah, they're still kind of weirdos who love everything to do with the dead, but Emmrich is a kind, compassionate weirdo and Hezenkoss is, despite being the villain, kind of just a dorky chick. And yet, somehow this makes her the best villain in the game. She's evil. She tortures souls. She wants to embody a giant skeleton and rule over Nevarra City as a giant, immortal skeleton queen. She wants to commit murders because her peers are too dull, too stupid, or have committed plagirism. She has weird little gestures she does as she discusses her evil plan. She uses overdramatic, stereotypical villain language like calling everyone "fools" and complaining about Emmrich's "sanctimonius bleating." She completely believes that Emmrich is the main character in this story, he must be because she believes herself to be the main villain. She's just as much of a nerd as Emmrich and equally as skilled, and in fact reflects quite poignantly the atrocities Emmrich could have committed if he wasn't so deeply compassionate. She's an extremely memorable villain compared to others in the companion quests (and even the main quest), and she's all the better because she helps define Emmrich that much more clearly, which is exactly the job of a good companion quest and a good villain. She's so good that she's even brought back to bicker with Emmrich from beyond death for the rest of the game. All that, and I haven't even touched on Emmrich's big choice. The lich choice is so effective because it forces Emmrich to confront his very clearly stated worst fear, death, which is doubly interesting considering his occupation. It's also such a good choice because it presents you with an immediate and tangible effect, unlike many other quests. Either you save Manfred and Emmrich remains mortal, or you lose Manfred and Emmrich transforms into an immortal skeleton. Either way, you're bound to notice and feel the difference. Even without a major main quest connection, this storyline was just so well done.

[hyperions-light]

ssssshhhhh this is a reference post for future me bc I have 12 billion ideas a day and my brain is filled with bees + some wasps

- The Lore did not change in VG at all, what in the world is everyone talking about

- It’s all one blood magic ritual, guys, trust me

- Solas, Bellara, and the arrogance of self-blame

- the one about how I never want to revisit the mage-Templar conflict ever again

- My fucking husband Zevran Arainai and why we’ll probably never see him again =(

- Just a list of references in this game to the past ones, since everyone keeps saying it’s ’not a real DA game’

- Another, more helpful list of all the NPCs whose dialogue will change if you bring specific companions to them

- Posting things I love about Bellara, because she’s not getting enough adoration

- Posting things I love about Harding, since she isn’t either

- Posting about Taash + their arc, since people don’t like it

- Posting about how I love the stuff Rook can say to Solas in the ending because I’m obsessed with the last 10-ish min of the game

- Posting about all the ways the game characterizes Rook, since people are mad about that too

-Posting about Emmrich’s arc and how like… it’s fun but really it’s also very serious and thematically relevant

- Posting about how Veilguard confronts and deals with death

- Posting about Neve in a more coherent way lol (after I try saving Minrathous)

- Spite and the Ossuary, since people hate that too I guess

- Posting abt how BW games have almost always just offered the illusion of carrying choices over and I’m glad they stopped lying about it (NOTIFS OFF)

- The Crows in VG (notifs off again)

- Countering some specific complaints about the LoF w/ regards to how they relate to Isabela (notifs REALLY off)

- Do I seriously need to discuss Isseya a third time

- something about how Davrin is like… he’s like good Ghilan’nain or something… he cares about them… idk

- What’s going on with Rook de Riva and Vi (after I finish this playthrough)

- those elven pantomime mask mementos… fascinating

- Paragon Wintersbreath?????

- love how normal everyone in Minrathous is

- Confused about the anger towards [im redacting this] when Dorian codex, Viper, etc, + other games never discussed anyway??

- How specific criticisms of DAI clearly shaped this game and it’s funny bc now everyone is mad that they listened to the criticisms (only if I’m feeling confrontational)

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 11 - A Touch of Spite

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Kalais x Lucanis

Summary: Now that Lucanis has finally admitted his feelings, Spite wants a turn with Rook. Rook and Lucanis plan to crash a party

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, tension

A/N: I have nothing to say about this one. Just enjoy

Chapter 10 DATV Masterlist Chapter 12

After speaking with Solas and then the rest of the team, I sat alone in my room. The Lighthouse was quiet, and for once, my mind mirrored that silence.

The reflections of the aquarium moved across the room, painting it in a blue-green glow. I was sitting on the edge of my bed-slash-sofa, lost in the movements of the fish behind the glass, when a knock came at the door---soft, tentative, yet deliberate.

I frowned slightly. No one usually came to my room this late. Rising cautiously, I padded over and cracked the door open.

“Lucanis?” His silhouette filled the doorway, but something was off. His usual composed demeanor was absent, replaced by a strange energy that seemed to hum in the air between us. His gaze lifted to meet mine, and I froze. 

His eyes were glowing---that deep, eerie purple that sent a shiver down my spine.

Not Lucanis.

“Mischief, what are you---”

Before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine. It was sudden, insistent, and unlike anything I’d experienced before. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and though I should have pushed him away, my body hesitated.

“My turn.” Spite growled, his voice rougher and more gravelly than Lucanis’s. His lips moved with open-mouthed kisses up my jaw and down my neck. His kisses turned from lips to teeth, biting and sucking at my skin as his hands roamed, sliding down my back, his touch possessive in a way that left no doubt who was in control.

I tried to pull away, but my back hit the wall, and I was caged. “Spite---” I managed to gasp, my voice trembling with confusion and a flicker of something else I couldn’t quite name.

He pulled back, just enough to meet my gaze, his smirk predatory. “You want this,” he hissed, hand skimming lower, the heat of his touch searing through the thin fabric of my clothes. He tucked his nose into the crook between my neck and shoulder. “I can. Smell you.” He took a deep inhale, and my heart pounded in my chest, anticipation building in me.

I felt a rush of conflicting emotions---fear, anger, compassion, and lust that I couldn’t quite hate myself for. My heart raced as he kissed me again, his mouth demanding in a way that sent a flush of warmth coursing through me.

His hands pried apart the buttons of my shirt without care, the rough calluses on his palms dragging against my sides as he bared me from the waist up.

Before things could spiral further, his body stiffened, and his grip on me faltered. His hands dropped, and he stepped back, a deep gasp escaping him as if he were pulling himself out of deep water.

“Kalais?” Lucanis’s voice was hoarse, his expression twisted with confusion and horror as he blinked down at me. His eyes, now their usual dark brown, darted between my face and his own hands, as if trying to piece together what had happened. “Did he---” he cut himself off, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. “Did Spite hurt you?”

“No, no,” I said quickly, raising my hands to calm him. He was already backing away, his body rigid, his expression stricken. I felt a light draft, causing goosebumps to prickle my chest, and I realized I was still half indecent. I quickly pulled my shirt back together, clasping the buttons.

“I didn’t---” his words were strangled, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“Lucanis, stop,” I said, stepping forward, my voice trembling. “He didn’t hurt me. He just… he kissed me. And touched me, but… but not like that.”

His brow furrowed, watching as my hands buttoned up my shirt, a storm in his eyes. I hated the pain I saw there.

“I swear, I’m okay,” I continued, forcing the words out even as my cheeks burned with shame. “He shouldn’t have done that without talking to us first,” I said carefully. “I just wish…” I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest.

“What?” He asked, his voice low, careful, as if bracing for what I might say next.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I wish you had been the first one to touch me like that,” I said in earnest.

His eyes widened, the words catching him off guard, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“Kalais,” he said finally, his voice raw with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite parse. “I… I don’t understand. How could you---” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

I took a breath, lest I break down like this in front of him. One of us had to keep it together at all times. “It’s not a secret I care about both of you. Spite was never even…” I paused, searching for the right words. “Given a chance to be seen as anything other than what that place made him- made you. It hurt both of you, that doesn’t make him inherently evil,” I explained. “But… But he should have talked to us about it first.” My thoughts were racing and my tongue seemed to move with them before I could stop. “I want you… and that means I want him too, but…”

“But what?” Lucanis asked, looking astonished, dragging a hand through his hair.

“I want you to be my first,” I said quietly. “I’m not… experienced.”

I watched Lucanis’s cheeks dust pink, and he glanced away. “Oh.”

Lucanis’s stunned expression lingered as he processed my words. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, a sharp contrast to the earlier intensity with Spite. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first, his jaw working silently before he managed a shaky breath.

“I… didn’t realize,” he admitted softly, his voice low and cautious. His gaze flicked back to me, his brown eyes searching mine. “You’ve always seemed so confident. I never would’ve guessed…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair again, clearly out of his depth.

“That I’m a virgin?” I laughed slightly, my cheeks warming as I wrapped my arms around myself. “I guess I’m good at pretending,” I said with a small, self-conscious shrug. 

Lucanis frowned, his expression clouding with guilt. “Kalais, I… I don’t know what to say. I’m angry at him for not giving us a choice, for doing this to you. But…” His voice softened as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I don’t want him to… mess this up. For us.”

I stepped closer, my hand brushing against his arm, trying to draw his attention back to me. “He won’t,” I said firmly. “I trust you, Lucanis. I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t. I’ll talk to him.”

His eyes snapped to mine at that, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing across his face. He swallowed hard, visibly gathering himself. “You trust me,” he repeated, the words almost reverent. He exhaled shakily and reached for my hand, his fingers curling around mine with a gentleness that made my heart ache.

“I do,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

For a moment, he said nothing, just holding my hands as if grounding himself in the simple connection. Then, he let out a low, humorless laugh. “You make it sound so easy,” he muttered, his lips quirking in a wry, self-deprecating smile.

“It is,” I said simply, echoing the words I’d spoken to him before. “At least for me.”

Lucanis’s grip on my hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You deserve better than this,” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt. “Better than me… better than Spite…”

I shook my head, cutting him off. “Don’t decide what I deserve for me,” I said firmly. “I’m not looking for perfect, Lucanis. I’m looking for you. And I don’t regret anything that’s happened. I just… want us to figure this out together.”

His gaze softened at that, the storm in his eyes quieting just slightly. “You’re too good to me,” he said quietly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

“And you’re too hard on yourself,” I countered, stepping closer until we were only a breath apart. “You’re not responsible for Spite’s choices, Lucanis. And you don’t have to carry all of this alone. I’m here. For both of you.”

Lucanis stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he raised his free hand to cup my cheek, his touch achingly gentle. “You’re incredible,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over my skin.

I felt my breath catch, my heart pounding in my chest as his gaze bore into mine. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here,” I whispered.

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile---a rare, unguarded moment that made my chest ache. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

“We’ll figure this out,” I murmured, my voice a low promise. “Together.”

“Together,” he echoed, the word steady and full of hope.

For now, that was enough.

❈❈❈

Lucanis sat on the edge of his bed, elbows braced on his knees, hands raking through his hair as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His heart was still racing, the memory of Kalais’s flushed face, her trembling voice, and the sight of her fumbling to button her shirt playing on a loop in his mind. His fists clenched involuntarily, nails biting into his palms. The tightness in his pants certainly didn’t solve any problems.

“You’re quiet,” Spite’s gravely voice broke through the tension, the tone almost teasing. “Regretting already?”

Lucanis’s jaw tightened, refusing to look at the aspect of himself leaning against the wall. Spite had no right to bring her into this. Not now. Not after what he’d done. “What the hell were you thinking?” Lucanis snapped, his voice low but seething. He pushed himself to his feet and started pacing, the energy humming under his skin demanding release. “You can’t just… take over and do that. You violated her trust, Spite.”

“She. Wanted it,” Spite replied smoothly, his voice echoing in Lucanis’s mind like an unwelcome shadow. “Wanted more.”

Lucanis spun on his heel, eyes narrowing as he glared at Spite. “Wanting something and being ready for it are not the same thing!” Lucanis growled, pointing at him. “Consent, Spite. It’s not just some formality you can skip because you think you know better. You ask. You wait.”

Spite scoffed, his voice rich with disdain. “Ask? Why? Rook. Wanted it. Her body. Sang.”

Lucanis’s fists clenched again, but he forced himself to take a steadying breath. “It’s not just about what you think you can sense, Spite,” he said tightly. “It’s about respect. About giving her the chance to choose for herself. You took that away from her tonight.”

Silence followed his words, heavy and oppressive. For a moment, Lucanis wondered if Spite would retreat, slinking back into the recesses of his mind to avoid this confrontation. But when had he ever done that? It was always harsh words and angry tones flung between the two of them. Never civility. The Ossuary had stolen that from them both. At least with each other.

Instead, his voice came back, quieter this time. “I’m not used to… Asking,” Spite admitted begrudgingly. “This. Is new. For me too.”

Lucanis paused, the raw honesty in Spite’s tone catching him off guard. He folded his arms, his anger dimming just enough to allow a sliver of understanding. He didn’t know how spirits or demons experienced affection or lust besides the obviously lustful kind of spirit or demon. He wondered briefly if his own feelings were starting to bleed into the demon from their time together.

“Well, it matters now,” he said firmly. “Kalais isn’t some toy for you to play with. She’s a person. Someone we both care about.”

“She cares. About us. Both.”

Lucanis exhaled, the weight of the night pressing heavily on his shoulders. “She does,” he admitted softly. “But that doesn’t mean you can ignore her boundaries, Spite. If you want her to trust you---to trust us---then you have to respect her choices.”

Spite’s aspect, the purple glow surrounding him, flickered, dimming slightly. “If I. Don’t?” Spite asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Lucanis’s expression hardened. “Then you lose her,” he said simply. “Because I won’t let you hurt her again. I’ll find a way to keep you from taking over if I have to.”

The threat hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Spite growled softly, but it wasn’t the defiant sound Lucanis expected. It was almost… thoughtful.

“I’ll try,” Spite said at last, the words begrudging. “But. I want. My turn.”

Lucanis’s brow furrowed, and he turned away, pacing again. “Your turn?”

“Yes,” Spite replied. “You’re awake. During the day. You get Rook. I only have. The night.”

Lucanis’s teeth ground together, the idea setting him on edge. But he could feel Spite’s determination, the tenuous thread of compromise dangling between them. He thought of Kalais, her words echoing in his mind: I’m here. For both of you.

“Fine,” Lucanis said finally, his voice sharp as he crossed his arms. “But there are rules. When I’m awake, she’s mine. You stay out of it. And when she’s asleep, you leave her alone. She needs her rest, Spite.”

“And when. You sleep?” Spite pressed, his voice low and coaxing.

Lucanis hesitated, his mind warring with itself. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. “You can… spend time with her. If you respect her boundaries. No more taking over without permission. You want her trust? Earn it.”

His purple glow brightened briefly, then dimmed again. “Deal,” Spite said, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction.

Lucanis sank back onto his cot as Spite disappeared from view. He didn’t fully trust Spite---he doubted he ever would. But for now, it was a start.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Lucanis muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling.

❈❈❈

I wandered to the kitchen for a bite to eat after blissfully uninterrupted sleep. No god of lies, no spirits, no people, and lots of healing rest.

“Good. You’re here,” Lucanis said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“A note from Viago.”

“Illario’s making his move?” 

Lucanis nodded. “A big one. He’s hosting all the Talons of the Crows at Caterina’s villa.”

“That means the finest wine, and an even finer banquet,” I said.

“You deserve better than anything at Illario’s table,” Lucanis told me seriously.

“I’ll let you re-educate my palate. Once we’re out the other side,” I grinned.

“We have to do this carefully. Illario has to be expecting us,” Lucanis said.

“You think he knows that we know about him and Elgar’nan?” I asked.

Lucanis smirked, “He knows we know about him and Zara. After your gracious display of threatening him. He wouldn’t be avoiding us otherwise. Be ready for a trap.”

“I always am,” I told him. “Are you… Are you and Spite okay?”

“We’ve come to… an agreement,” he said carefully.

I nodded slowly. “Okay… Should I be worried?”He reached up, fingers playing through the ends of my hair. “Do not worry, mi diosa. I can handle Spite.” His fingers brushed under my jaw, tipping my chin up. I shivered. “You should worry about Teia. Viago said she’s inconsolable with preparations for Illario’s banquet. Knowing her, she has a plan to get us in.”

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

A/N: I have planssss >:3

As always, let me know if you want to be on the Lucanis tag list or the tag list for this series!!

Tags: @encrytpta

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hello Nalyra I want to ask you about Marius and Armand in the books. Do you think Marius ever truly loves Armand? How come Marius has so many lovers and who exactly is his endgame partner? and do you think Armand was made vampire out of love?

Hey nonny!

Please forgive me, but you are applying mortal morality to beings outside of that morality.

Marius is 2k years old, of course he has had lovers.

And if he didn't love Armand, and almost fatally so as well, then he would not have made him. He fought with himself there, for years, and in the books the sickness Armand contracted (actually poison) forces his hand.

Yes, Marius made Armand from love, namely being unable to let him die. (Armand does the same with Daniel, in the books, and despite them using "out of spite" to describe Daniel's turning I cannot quite believe that.)

Yes Marius loves Armand, but Marius is already 1400 years old by the time he encounters Armand. He... thinks differently. He comes from a different time, with different values... and as a perpetual outsider and watcher, he picks up only those values that suit him, because, well - he can just sit through the rest (or literally sleep to skip centuries, as he does book canonically).

I don't think that there is a fixed endgame partner. In the books he spends a lot of time with Bianca and Pandora in the last books, after losing Daniel (yes, Daniel Molloy) who goes back to Armand.

But it isn't as... fixed as it is maybe for others, who call themselves "Blood spouses" in the books. Like Gregory and Chrysanthe - but even they have Davis in their love as well, as much "blood spouse" as they are to each other. It's not set in stone.

The(se) vampires exist outside of the strict relationship terms or jealousies, really.

Oh, of course there are relationships and jealousies. Pettiness. Anger. There's even a rather deadly jealousy encounter between Marius and Arjun in the last books.

But generally, if you have eternity to figure it out? And know you will meet again? Then a lot of outlooks change... there is no pressure of time to make something work right now, you can part and come together again, no matter the heartache or pain that may accompany the ups and downs.

Like, for example, Marius and Pandora, surely they did not stay apart for so long wholly voluntarily, no the means kept them apart (aka no phones or internet to find each other back then did not exist, obviously), but when they did find each other again... they found each other again.

Armand and Marius... find some discussion ground later on as well. Armand loves Marius - and Marius does love Armand. It's just not easy, given history and past choices. And some upcoming events.

But as I said, the books leave us at a certain point but... well. I'm sure they'll figure it out in the next few thousand years :)))))

[theeyeofeverything]

Brainworms cannot be contained so I need to confess to you one (1) thing...

Yes. I have au where sols can be saved but there is a lil thing I need to mention... not all of them will survive... ACTUALLY THEY MiGHT BE HAPPY ONLY FOR A WHILE ONLY TO DIE AGAIN. Ooops!

So let's call this thing "out of spite AU".

Basic premise is Yi saves as many sols, as he can and all of them have a lession to learn. They given a chance to grow and redeem themselfs. Not in front of apeman or remaining solarians (if there id left any), no. It's a redemption before oneself. Because yes, they will be safe for a while, but the end is the same. Kuafu will be the only solarian to survive in the end... or does he?

Mainly trough this exist to explore 4 things: 1. Dynamics between Sols 2. How they will face their inner conflict (most of them remain their initial core traits, don't worry, but some aspects of them might change a little) 3. Sols interacting with ShuanShuan (it also ties to their inner conflict! He helps others like he helps Yi to understand that life good on its own. Mainly tho its a self-indulingent cute bonding stuff between Sols and ShuanShuan) 4. Jieyi (AM SORRY I HAVE SEVER CASE OF BEING REALLY INVESTED IN GUYS OBSESSED WITH PROTAGS I AM WEAK)

Who will be saved?

- Kuafu. Same as in canon.

-Jiequan. Well, I said it would be really funny concept for him to be saved first of all people. Yi doing exactly that, initially out of spite. But it's ironic that in the literal sense Jieqan did not win - Yi just broke all of his teapods and did not let him die like a hero become a gooquan - but he won the spiritual battle. His torture made Yi better. Well, it's not but it made Yi mad enough to do the opposite of rampage. He is restraind in the pavilion at the time (but not for long)

-Goumang. After thinking (and being really pissed) abou his and Jiequan similarity he desides that he might gone a little bit rough on Goumang. When he is back at the agrocurtual hall she is alive, but gravely injured. It's a miracle she didn't bleed out by the time they arrived at the pavilion. He and Kuafu tend her wounds, but she is NOT happy to be here. At least, at first

-Nuwa. At this point in story Yi is finally giving a rest to his killing rampage. Nuwa is a strange case because she is no use to Yi. Jiequan is a fighter, Goumang is somewhat of the healer in this au. Nuwa is a spoiled mean brat. Kinda just like him! No one deserve to die like...this. He will not let her go near Fuxi, when he's down. She would cry, crawl and bite her way out, but to no avail. I will say she is safe in this au for sake of exploring her personality and how it would change with absence of her brother around. How she would become independent.

-Ji. He is the intresting case because he is wanting to die. He is tired of life. He wants to rest and join dao. However I think he might stay for a while because his hexagramm... lied to him. Jiequan has to much impact in this AU huh. Well, I think he knew Jiequan and Yi's fight would not end good. He forsaw Jiequan die... but now Yi is telling him that the last member of the jie is alive and well! I think that would intrigue Ji, actually. Why would hexagramms lie to him? Did the Yi changed course of history? And additional layer to this if certain someone once also made a hexagramm prediction untrue.

Or, maybe, hexagramms want him to preserve this story too? His last story to tell.

Who will not survive:

-Yanlao. First, at this point Yi was not ignited by spite and did not reconsider his choices! And second - he is a lesson to learn for Yi. A irreversable mistake, that can't be take back. Not that he is greiving for this loss but it kinda make jiequan with his "do you think saving me does you a good guy automathicly? With other you was not that merciful, young master Yi" sting harder. And that is making Yi pissed, but... pissed Yi is a Yi how does rethink his decisions so maybe this is for the better

-Lady Etheral. Well she is no longer in a condition to be saved. She is basicly a brain in a jar and can't be brought back. All they can do is honor her properly. Let her rest at last.

-Eigong. This is intersting case because I belive she is long lost. At least, I think she is beliving herself to be a lost cause. She will not let Yi and Goumang save her. She will go with this ship, because her role is played already. So she would go on her own terms and would not be swayed. I love her so much as a character, but this the vibe I get from her. Besides I need more drama and angst for this AU sooo...

Let's stop for now. There is a couple of aspects I want to talk about more, but I think some of my ideas will translate better trough my art!

Not now, tho. Because I need to finish funny haha comics first and THEN do serious shit.

Feel free to ask about this AU tho!

[lonewolflupe]

Aaaaaah I loved this so, so much and it was everything I had hoped for with my prompt <3 I know it could have been angsty and sad, but your story was so satisfying; thank you so much for writing it!

@aknightreaderr @ghostymarni you might enjoy this read as well!

Some ramblings below the cut (:

His liking for caff hasn't changed. By the end of the war, he was drinking enough caff to show on a drug test.

Yes that does sound like our dear Commander!

"Looks kinda poisonous. Are you trying to kill us Fox'ika?" Cody joked. Asshole. Next time, Fox was getting him decaf.

Hahaha this was marvelous! I like the way Fox wants to serve decaf out of spite.

"No, Fox, that was a joke! You can't just open a coffee shop!" "Watch me."

Yessssss I like the way this is going (also good for Fox to show them!).

He was in the middle of the process of making a unicorn frappuccino when the door opened. (..)

A unicorn frappuccino?? 🥺❤️

Alright. Fox could do this. Caff was his job. No. No, caff was more. It was his life. He could make a good drink for a pretty senator.

<333

(..) He looked at his creation. That wasn't any of the drinks on the menu. He did it all on instinct, without thinking. It didn't look bad, though. He handed it to the senator.

Oh I just love how he made something for Riyo without thinking, using his instincts! This is so precious!

"It's a... it's a special. Just for you," Fox stuttered.

I'm totally melting

(..) He was still busy wondering if she really just said his name. How did she recognize him? Kriff, how did she even know he had a name? He always went by CC-1010 when in the senate.

This is the cutest! Oh I love this so much, thanks for adding some subtle Foxiyo, I love them your honor <3

(..) He was a barista, not a comedian. (..)

Hahahaha 😂

"You mean a senator gets a drink on the house and your batchmates don't?" Wolffe looked offended.

I can totally imagine Wolffe's offended look (it probably doesn't look that different from his daily expression)

"(..), he [Rex] wasn't even from the same batch, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got kidnapped and later adopted by Cody. (..)

I love, love, love this headcanon! Thanks for mentioning it! <3

(..) Fox couldn't be more happy. He loved caff and he loved making it for the citizens of Coruscant.

It warms my heart to read Fox being happy after the war. He deserves this. (And we deserve seeing him like this 😭)

"Surprise me."

YESSSSSSSSSS

This was so sweet, so soft, with some funny interactions between Fox and his batchmates. Again, this was everything I had hoped for with my prompt (and more, probably)! Thank you so much for writing this for me! <3

Gift wrap banner by: @the-little-moment.

My gift for @lonewolflupe for the @galactic-gift-gathering event is nothing else than a short fic about Commander Fox and his biggest love: caff. Your gift is belowthe cut, I hope you like it!

Fox has always had a thing for caff.

He was a little older than eight standard years old when him and his batchmates decided to sneak out of their sleeping pods after the curfew and wandered to the mess hall. They were there for snacks but the moment Fox laid his gaze on a forgotten cup of the brown liquid on one of the tables, he couldn't look away. There was something about that brown liquid, something that made him take a sip.

There was no way to describe the taste, or the rush of contentment and energy that flooded Fox the moment he swallowed. And he knew in that moment that he wanted more.

His liking for caff hasn't changed. By the end of the war, he was drinking enough caff to show on a drug test.

And then the war ended, Fox was forced to quit his job of a commander until he recovered from the damage Palpatine did to him - not that he actually needed the time off but try explaining that to his overprotective batchmates - and along with his job, he list the option of stealing caff from the coffee machines in the senators' offices.

So he went and tried a coffee shop after coffee shop. And who knew caff could be even more delicious? Don't take him wrong, the plain black liquid he used to drink was good but it was nothing compared to pumpkin spice latte or strawberry creme frappuccino.

He didn't get why his batchmates laughed at his choice of drinks but then, his batchmates has always been weirdos. Fox didn't take it personally and brought them each a vanilla bean frappe with two pumps of raspberry syrup to their meeting in Wolffe's apartment.

"What's that?" Wolffe gave the plastic cup Fox just handed him a weird look. What was his problem? It was aesthetic!

"Looks kinda poisonous. Are you trying to kill us Fox'ika?" Cody joked. Asshole. Next time, Fox was getting him decaf.

"It's vanilla bean frappe with two pumps of raspberry syrup you moron."

"You know, maybe you could open a coffee shop," Rex snickered.

"You know what? I will."

"No, Fox, that was a joke! You can't just open a coffee shop!"

"Watch me."

Fox was nervous. He had exactly ten minutes and forty five- forty four- forty three- forty two- Alright, that's enough, he needed to calm down. He had approximately ten minutes before he opened his very first coffee shop. His worry was unnecessary. He was just opening his first ever coffee shop. What could go wrong?

Fox nervously sipped his iced matcha espresso as he watched the numbers on his watch change steadily. The drink was good. Surely his customers were going to agree. It was so good Fox ran out of the drink before he was supposed to open. He needed something to drink, something strong.

He was in the middle of the process of making a unicorn frappuccino when the door opened. Fox forced himself not to run away as he turned to his first ever customer. He was surprised to see senator Chuchi.

"Hi!" she greeted him cheerfully. She looked perfect as always, her blue skin glowy, robes carefully ironed without a hint of wrinkling, not a hair out of place... What was she doing in Fox's coffee shop. Not that it was Fox's business he was just curious. That... that didn't make it his business, right?

"Senator. What can I get you?"

"Surprise me."

Alright. Fox could do this. Caff was his job. No. No, caff was more. It was his life. He could make a good drink for a pretty senator.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Fox started mixing ingredients in a cup. He started with some melted chocolate, added ice, almond milk, blueberry juice and mixed it well before pouring some well brewed coffee into it and topping it off with whipped cream and some heart shaped chocolate sprinkles. He looked at his creation. That wasn't any of the drinks on the menu. He did it all on instinct, without thinking. It didn't look bad, though. He handed it to the senator.

"Looks great. I don't remember seeing this one on the menu?"

"It's a... it's a special. Just for you," Fox stuttered.

He watched the senator take a sip. He hoped he mixed it well. An angry senator was the last thing he needed, especially when it was the one senator who treated the clones with respect. What was he even thinking, he should've just fixed her a regular latte with some extra cream and- "Wow. This is... I don't have words for this, this is the best drink I've ever had."

"Really?"

"Uh huh." The senator took another sip. Fox guessed he was lucky. "How much is it?"

A good question. "It's on the house," he blurted out.

"Thanks, Fox." The senator smiled at him. "I'll be back tomorrow!"

Fox watched the senator toss a generous amount of credits into the tip jar as she walked out of the shop. He was still busy wondering if she really just said his name. How did she recognize him? Kriff, how did she even know he had a name? He always went by CC-1010 when in the senate.

He was still pondering over that when he heard his batchmates snicker from the door. So they really came. Sweet.

"Are you going to be standing there or do you actually want to purchase something?" Fox asked impatiently. He was a barista, not a comedian. His job was to get people so hooked on caff he could live out of their orders, not making them laugh.

"Just basic blacks caff," Cody ordered.

"I will let you know that I offer a variety of different-"

"Black caff, vod," Cody asked again, the others following his example. His batchmates were the worst! Why couldn't they just all admit what drinks they really loved? Fox had no problem with admitting that his favorite drink was strawberry cream frappuccino.

"Of course." Fox rolled his eyes as he prepared each of his beloved batchmates a plain, boring coffee. "Two credits each."

"You're kidding, right?" Bly asked.

"No."

"You mean a senator gets a drink on the house and your batchmates don't?" Wolffe looked offended.

"The senator didn't get the most boring drink I offer, did she?"

"We are your batchmates!" Rex argued. It was ironic that it was him of all people, he wasn't even from the same batch, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got kidnapped and later adopted by Cody. Not that Fox cared, no one was getting free drinks if they didn't at least order something interesting.

Fox's coffee shop turned out pretty well. Soon he had more customers than he could handle. Senator Chuchi kept coming every morning and sometimes in the evening as well. The command batch stopped by daily to order their plain coffee and then the di'kute returned alone later to order the drink they were embarrassed to admit they liked. The entire Coruscant Guard frequented the place as well as many other clones. Then there were Jedi and of course the regular citizens of Coruscant. To sum it up, the place was popular.

Fox was proud when he learned how well known his humble coffee shop was. Sure, his vode knew his shop. But nat-borns did too and that was a surprise. And it wasn't just some regulars who lived nearby, no. His coffee shop was a well known place! People would say they will meet at Fox's and their friends knew exactly where. Teenagers would buy caff just so they could spend an hour taking selfies with the cups and let the drink get cold. Fox couldn't be more happy. He loved caff and he loved making it for the citizens of Coruscant.

He heard the door open.

"Hey, Fox," Rex greeted him. He was the first one to return for his alone drink that day.

"Rex." Fox nodded at him. "The usual?"

"The usual."

Fox started making Rex's favorite espresso with milk, dragon fruit syrup, pink whipped cream, white chocolate topping and marshmallows. "Here you go." He handed Rex the cup and watched his vod'ika leave. He shook his head fondly. If only him and Fox's batchmates could admit they weren't all that much into boring, black caff, their lives would be much easier. It wasn't like they could laugh at each other. Rex loved milky espresso with dragon fruit, pink cream, white chocolate and marshmallows. Bly loved pumpkin spice latte. Cody loved affogato with cookie cream and two pumps of extra caramel. Wolffe's favorite was iced matcha tea latte with almond milk, raspberry syrup, seven extra pumps of dark chocolate, purple whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. Fox didn't judge. His batchmates did but they didn't have the right too.

Fox was distracted by the door opening again. He looked up to see his favorite customer. He smiled. "Hi, Riyo. What can I get you today?"

She smiled back. "Surprise me." She always said that. It was more of a game at this point, she could've ordered any of the drinks Fox has served her in the past. But she seemed to enjoy the surprise and Fox liked the challenge of creating new and new delicious and aesthetic combinations.

"Of course."

[inkykeiji]

just found out i’m dating a literal psychopath as i watched my boyfriend take a bite out of a kitkat bar instead of snapping each wafer stick like a normal person does 。ﾟ(ﾟﾉД｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[theanonymousninja247]

✨ Star Friends ✨

When I found out that @chessman-protocol boy Crit liked Astronomy, let’s just say I was beyond estatic and immediately planned this little comic. Here’s to my boy Vincent doing his best to make friends with folks who share similar interests 😅💙

Funny enough, I didn’t realize I put this in Vincent character’s until I looked at the whole thing, but Vincent very much shares the lack of stranger danger the way I did/ I do to this day. To quote one of my past managers I’m “abnormally friendly” or whatever

I can’t tell you how many times even as a small child (drove my parents nuts) that I saw a cool person with whatever connecting factor and I just straight up walked to them and was like “Ok cool. We’re friends now.” And nobody’s really stopped me? So apparently I have friends now. 😆

Vincent however is just a wholesome baby boy who doesn’t realize he’s actually an intimidating hunk of a turtle and randomly walking up to strangers and not saying anything can be taken the wrong way.

Like I said, he’s trying his best. He wasn’t exactly the most socialized if you can’t tell, but he does love dearly and is certainly a boone of a friend to have once you get past the inevitable social awkwardness. He’s loyal to put because he really doesn’t know better, and I adore him for that. Anyway, dunno if Crit knows any ASL or not, but either way Vincent is just excited to meet somebody else who likes space ✨🌌 💙