#dav answers shit

[proffbon]

Had to replay this choice two times due to extreme cases of 'He would not fucking say that'

[whitehartlane]

as a fan of another pl team i think your problem is that your captain is son. he's too emotional and soft and instead of demanding better of your players he goes around comforting them and protecting them from the refs. idk i feel like he's probably let the band get to his head a bit and now he's pushing people like PEH (who have proper authority) away from the refs, it's a bit weird. strange appointment. he's trying too hard

know him do you?

[guiltyasdave]

say you'll remember me

chapter 5 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: The aftermath. (Because I am dramatic)

word count: 1.9k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, slut shaming, pure angst I'M SORRY

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

i'm sorry that this took so long and also about the... contents of this. it's the last official chapter, but there will be an epilogue. if this is stressing you out and you'd feel more comfortable knowing if there will be a happy ending, please feel free to shoot me a dm <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

“Where’s my what?”

David steps through the open bedroom door, pulling a washed out t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair even further than it was before. He’s not wearing pants, only the briefs that he so eagerly got out of less than an hour ago. He freezes at the scene in front of him. 

You’re painfully aware of your own appearance, painfully aware of how obvious it is what you’re doing here. There’s zero chance of talking your way out of this one. 

Your father is still standing in the doorway, jaw clenched impossibly tight, his gaze flickering between the two of you. You steal a glance at David, finding his eyes already on you. Regret is swimming in them, threatening to drown you both, and you know that he’s come to the same conclusion. You’re done for. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

It’s clipped, the quiet and cold tone that you’ve had a lifetime to get used to, but it’s tinged in anger, with an intensity that you’ve never heard before. The step you take back comes instinctively, following the desperate urge to get closer to the man behind you, the man who makes you feel safe, even now. A scowl forms on your father’s face as he clocks the movement. 

“Jim–” David tries, arm halfway raised like he’s reaching out. To you or to your father, you’re not sure. 

“I was in the area, thought I’d drop by, even though you weren’t answering your phone.” His chuckle is devoid of humor, his eyes flashing darkly. “Guess you were busy.” 

“Dad, please…” You’re not sure what you even want to ask for. For him to hear you out, to understand? 

He shakes his head, looking you up and down, disdain written clear over his face. 

“Put some clothes on, Jesus Christ. I’m taking you home.” 

You look at David again, desperate for just a hint of comfort, no matter how small. The promise that, somehow, everything will be fine. He gives you a curt nod towards the bedroom, no discernible emotion in his expression. 

You’re uncomfortably aware of the expanse of your bare legs under his shirt as you walk back into the room, the place that has become your sanctuary over the past weeks. 

“Jim, listen,” you hear David’s voice through the open door. “We just– we were talking if maybe I could get her an internship at the DIA, and it– it just happened. It was a one time thing, I swear. And a mistake. I–I’m so sorry.”

Lies. They seem to fall from his lips so easily, like a story that he had prepared for a long time. Maybe he did. 

“I really don’t give a shit, Dave.” 

You hear David sigh, can see his accompanying expression in your mind. The pursed lips, the firm jaw. 

“I guess that’s fair.” 

You don’t want to leave, don’t want the tense car ride, don’t want to be alone in your room and replay this over and over. You’re already circling through scenarios how this could have gone differently. 

Why did you have to go open the door? Why didn’t you let David get it? Why did none of you notice his phone ringing? Why hadn’t you been more careful? 

When you re-emerge from the room, neither of them has moved. Your father’s expression is unreadable, a stoic kind of coldness that doesn’t betray any feelings he might have. 

You can’t help looking at David’s face when you pass him, searching for comfort, reassurance, anything. Some sign that he didn’t mean it when he said you and him had been a mistake. But he’s staring at the floor, his face like a mask. 

You bite your lip, avoiding your father’s gaze when you step past him and down the stairwell. He’s gonna have more to say about this, you know it. 

He’s fulfilling your expectation after a few minutes of silence, the tension in the car so thick that it feels like you’re getting crushed by the sheer weight of it.

“Always taking the easy route, aren’t you?! Rather just spread your legs than to put in some actual work, fucking hell…” 

Your lips fall open at his words, a disbelieving huff escaping you. 

“Dad, that’s not–” 

“That’s exactly what it is,” he cuts you off, his grip tight on the steering wheel, venom spitting from his mouth. “I didn’t think I raised you to be a whore.” 

You snap your mouth shut, staring straight ahead, tears brimming in your eyes. It had never even crossed your mind, the thought that you’d get anything like a job out of your… situation with David. It was never your motivation. You just– wanted him. Wanted him to like you. 

It hurts, hurts more than you want to admit to yourself, to have your own father jump to that conclusion so quickly. To know that he has no issues seeing you like that, thinking of you like that. 

“You embarrassed me,” he continues, even angrier than before. “Throwing yourself at the first man you see.”

Heat is rising in your cheeks. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a whispered sound, shame ringing with the words. You don’t want to apologize, but it comes like an instinct, the only acceptable option that you have. 

“You’re gonna stay home for the next two weeks, until your break is over. You’re gonna study and maybe, if you show me that it’s not a complete waste of money, I’ll keep paying for that goddamn school.”

Your head whips around to stare at his stony profile beside you. He’s grounding you?!

“Dad, I’m not a child!” 

He shrugs, pulling up to the house. 

“Well, since you’re acting as irresponsible as a child, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

He doesn’t stop you when you throw open the car door, fumbling with the house keys before you get the door open and stomp up to your room. Angry tears are blurring your vision, blood pounding loudly in your ears. 

You’re not thinking straight, thumbs flying over your phone screen, a message about how this doesn’t mean anything, how you’ll figure this out, how much you still want him, flowing from your fingertips. David doesn’t respond. 

You cry yourself to sleep that night, tossing and turning in your sheets, your dreams full of vague shapes and scenarios, replaying the day’s events over and over. 

Your father checks on you the next morning, pointedly asking about your plans for the day, seemingly content with your mumbled, spiritless responses about revising coursework and working on applications for an internship. 

“You can do better than the DIA, you realize that, right? Hardly any money to make there.” 

You nod silently, forcing down the ragefit about how you don’t give a shit about the DIA, or about any job for that matter, that it never fucking was about that. 

You’ve never had a particularly strong intention to actually follow your father’s orders and not leave the house, but it’s out of the window when your phone finally vibrates with a message from David, asking if it’s possible for you to meet him. 

You’re out the door in a heartbeat, paying no mind to the security cameras recording you, to the consequences of this. It’s like you’re on autopilot, the stress of the past 24 hours erasing all rational thoughts from your mind. 

David meets you at the door, a sight so painfully familiar and yet entirely new, because of the look on his face. Devoid of emotion, a mask of the man that you know, but not this version of him. He pulls you into an embrace, one that you desperately want to melt into, but his arms are stiff around you, coldness seeping into your bones despite the warmth of his body. You suppress a shiver when he doesn’t even lead you further into the apartment. You’re standing in the hallway, the short distance between you suddenly unbridgeable. From the corner of your eye, you notice his bedroom door. Firmly closed, once more. 

“Sweetheart–” he begins, rubbing his neck with one hand. A nervous gesture, so vastly different from the self-assured, always in control David that you’re so intimately familiar with. 

The rational part of you knows what this means, can almost predict the words that he’s gonna say next. It gives you a strange sense of déjà vu, reminds you of another time when you were in this apartment, so sure that he didn’t want you, that he was going to end this thing with you. 

You were mistaken back then. You know that you’re not mistaken now, because the David in front of you is nothing like the one from back then. It’s glaringly obvious, the difference between them, the cold determination that you see in his eyes only right now. 

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? F–for real this time?” 

Your voice barely wavers, your eyes don’t stray from his face. It’s like you’re walking through a dream, through a living nightmare, eerily aware of what’s gonna happen next but with no way to do anything about it. 

Hurt flashes in his eyes, gritting his teeth, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He only manages a silent nod.

You feel your face crumbling, hot tears finally springing to your eyes. Your throat grows tight. 

“Please… please don’t. Please.” You have to beg, have to at least try.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I never should have– it was a mistake. You know that, right?” 

You shake your head, eyes wide and silently pleading with him, unable to form words. He sighs, pain clear on his features as he cups your cheek. 

“Baby, I– I wish things were different, but– you’re so young. You’ve still got your whole life– you don’t need me. I never should have allowed this. I’m sorry that I did.” 

You choke out his name, the one that, unbeknownst to you, no one else uses. That he’ll never let anyone else use again. 

“But I want you,” you whisper, stepping closer, pressing your face into the familiar crook of his neck, breathing in the comfort that the scent of him brings. He chuckles weakly, a humorless sound, gently moving out of your embrace, his large hands finding your shoulders instead, prompting you to look at him.

“You shouldn’t. I’m not– I’m not worth it. I won’t let you fuck up your life over this.” 

Acceptance and denial are battling in your heart, the knowledge that you kind of always had but buried away deep down finally resurfacing. He isn’t yours to lose and he never was. 

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, tears silently streaming down your face. You need to ask, need to know if this ever meant as much to him as it did to you. “Will you miss me at all?” Will you even remember me?

His lips tilt up in a sad smile, and you could swear that his eyes are glassy as he gently presses his mouth against your forehead one last time. 

“Always, sweetheart.”

.........................................please remember that i love you

[kaija-rayne-author]

Thoughts on upcoming Veilguard AMA.

Obligatory 'I'm not an asshole' disclaimer. Feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I was on media blackout while I played it. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Note. None of my writing on DA, but especially DAV, is edited. This is just my off the cuff writing. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

Heard there was an AMA coming up on the 4th of December.

Given how the devs weaseled out from every actually important question in every other AMA, I don't have a lot of hope that we'll get any answers as to why DAV is so bad.

I just want to know why they scrapped Joplin. It had almost everything committed fans wanted. I want to know why every single decision they made somehow managed to make the game worse. I think there was pressure from EA. But rumour has it that BioWare has always had a lot of control over the games they make.

It's probably partially EA's fault. But I think the blame for the DAV mess belongs firmly on the devs and the people who decided to fire their (often) best writing talent.

But I'm not going to go. Because of said weasely behavior.

Maybe I just have to be done with games from huge corporations. I'm playing Greedfall now and loving it. It’s an RPG from an indie studio. It's a wee step back on graphics, they reused a couple of sets, but generally, it's a very solid RPG that feels like an RPG. They aren't staying away from sticky ideas and awful behavior by people. I find that incredibly realistic. The main/player character is a diplomat, who lies like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

I kept expecting Rook to burst into song and bluebirds to fly out of their ass. Maybe big corporates just can't give me what I want in RPGs anymore. I want truly morally grey choices. I want sticky political shit. I want passionate Romances with happy endings. I want to feel when I play games like these. Which means I need games with solid writing, good characters, and excellent world building. It means the OST has to be good. Not something that had the dedication to it as if Zimmer scraped it off his boot. Greedfall has all that. Plus the morally grey choices.

I've usually purchased and played AAA games from bigger companies because I do like unique maps to explore, and I'm an admitted graphics slut.

But holding DAV on one hand and GREEDFALL on the other? Greedfall wins, hands down. And it's a 5 year old game that very likely didn't have the 250 million dollar budget DAV had. I haven't even finished it yet, and it still wins. I played Subnautica Below Zero just before this one. It's more survival sandbox, but has plenty of RPG elements to it. When Unknown Worlds made both Subnautica games, they were still indie.

Perhaps, after loving BG3 as much as I do (Larian is also Indie) I should've gotten the message to check out indie produced RPGs earlier.

Message received.

DAVs utterly disastrous showing... It's likely a result of late stage capitalism and Disney polluting everything, and people in charge thinking MARVEL actually has any relevance since Disney bought it. Among a lot of other things I'll probably never know about.

But those are excuses. If BioWare truly has as much control as rumoured... it's on them. All of it.

I tried watching Loki. I utterly adore Tom Hiddleston, and even he couldn't get me through that disaster.

I already picked up a few more indie RPGs in the Steam fall sale. Looking forward to exploring them.

Maybe BioWare is just too corporatized to produce anything truly good anymore. Corporations don't have any room for true creativity.

It doesn't really matter. DAV broke my heart and landed BioWare on my boycott list for several reasons I detailed in my review series. I'm just done with them.

[mogwaei]

No cause I 100% agree about the disappointing lore direction of veilguard. It's a beautiful game (and I'm def gonna play when I get a computer that can handle it, esp for that baddie Emmrich and the overall luscious hair physics I've seen so far), but after all the deep twisting lore build up of the previous games, DAV just felt a little glossed over and shallow in terms of everything that makes a DA game a DA game. Skin deep romance, lack of meaningful choices or sometimes any choices for that matter, and unsatisfying answers to the legacy of questions and theories that the series bore for decades.

(Personally your Ouroborous is my canon continuation at this point and DAV itself is an admittedly very pretty but glorified character creator lol. And besides, your skill and dedication to your art and storytelling practically makes you just as official as any BioWare exec in my eyes 💞💞)

ASFHFKJHGJ (thoughts under cut)

I have WAY too many thoughts about this game as far as the lore goes, but I am not articulate about it the way some others are (Corseque/northgalis on here and twt has pretty much nailed all of my sentiments though). I'm also very careful about what I say because it's annoying to me when people take Very Subjective thoughts personally and get mean about it. That being said, I've read fic that had better lore...and like, I'm proud of mine too! I don't think there's anything wrong with being proud of something you've poured your whole self into, but I feel like I have to say that because someone on twt got offended😂

NOW:

They had me fooled in the beginning! I was super excited and surprised at a great number of things that they touched upon. One of my bigger excitements was the Forgotten Ones + the Forbidden! LIKE HOLY SHIT!!! I can't believe they're more than vague codexes! So there I was waiting for the revelations to get more intense and blow my fuckign mind as I progressed the game, I'm waiting for that detailed lore and insight into who and what they were like...and well, I was a let down. And then it kept happening. A lot, with other things. Many started off strongly and then either didn't go anywhere or stayed superficial? Or the lore was simplified and made into something not deep at all...or deeply unsatisfying lol. Lots of "oh that was almost good!" I'm sort of repeating everything you said, but basically I'm just trying to say I wholeheartedly agree -- also about all the choices, the cutting down of our worldstates...all of it. :(

But YES! The game is achingly gorgeous, I'm a huge fan of the art direction and style. I also adore all the companions and enjoyed them a lot! I think that their quests also suffered a bit of writing issues like the lore did, but whatever...I guess, that's what fanfic is for. I fucking LOVE Emmrich okay, he's my new fav along with Solas (and Varric. And a few others). He's perfect to me and so is my son Manfred. I can't wait to play the other romances too.

!!!!!!!!

And finally, I'm going to spin into the next dimension??? THAT'S INSANE OF YOU TO SAY AND THE HIGHEST COMPLIMENT EVER THANK YOU SO MUCH. omggfgg seriously wow thank you, I'll be floating on rainbows and clouds possibly forever lol💜💜💜

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

heavy warnings - SA!!, vague mention of drug use - if any of these topics make you uncomfortable the scene involving SA will be outlined and please don’t feel the need to read it, please take care of yourself🩷

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused

Chapter 3

Time had become my enemy. Matt was due to return to the States on March 1, 1960. I had only a few months left to spend as much time with him as I could.

Every minute I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. My life was now dominated by him and yet there were times when I would be disappointed by him. One evening he told me he would call and didn’t. When I finally heard from him the next day, he said, “Hi, Baby. Do you think you can come over tonight?”

“What happened last night? You were supposed to call.”

“I was? Oh shit.” He had been concentrating on his karate lesson and had forgotten.

I had to learn not to take his words to heart. It was disappointing, but it was just his way.

Matt’s calls usually came after seven to let me know that I’d be picked up around eight. I had to dress quickly, trying to find some way to appear older than my age. His father was concerned about Matt being with a minor. My clothes were all young and unsophisticated skirts and sweaters. At times I’d borrow my mother’s clothes and hope everyone would assume that I was at least sixteen.

As I got to know Matt, I learned that when he wasn’t at the base, he stayed at home all of the time. He had little choice. The moment he stepped out of the door there was a giant mob scene around him. Even going to see a local movie required elaborate planning. Someone would drive Matt’s car in front of the house. He would then run out, hurdle the fence, and duck into the car before any of his fans could start begging him for autographs. There were always crowds after him, calling, standing outside the house, literally charging at him when he entered any public place. Many evenings when Matt had early morning calls it was either David Jones, a friend who Matt had brought over from the States, or James Sturniolo who drove me to and from 18 Hauptstrasse.

One particular evening when neither David nor James was able to drive me home, Matt had a “friend” who was called Pete take me.

THIS SCENE INCLUDES SA!!

if this topic makes you uncomfortable please skip.

Pete was driving me from Matt’s home back to Wiesbaden. I was tired and dozing off. All of a sudden, I felt the road get bumpy. I opened my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll find out,” he said, turning his head away.

We had driven off the highway onto a dirt road. I could see the lights of one distant house, and the rest was all blackness. I began to get frightened. “What’s going on?” I inquired, confused. By then Pete had stopped the car and shut off the ignition.

I repeated my question, but Pete didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and grabbed me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away, struggling. He threw me down on the seat.

Panicked, I begged, “Don’t! Leave me alone!” I started fighting. I kicked one door open and opened the driver’s door with my hand while simultaneously banging the horn, hitting the lights, and scratching at his face. Out of frustration and fear of being caught, he finally gave up.

The rest of the way home, he never said a word. I just sat there sobbing, disbelieving, praying that I would get home safely.

END OF SCENE

Three days passed from that night before I heard from Matt. My parents knew something was wrong; however, I couldn’t tell them Pete tried to attack me because I would never be allowed to ride with him again. If I didn’t, how would I get to and from Matt’s if David and James weren’t available? My imagination ran wild. I was afraid to tell Matt because I thought Pete was his friend. I began to think that perhaps Matt knew what Pete had attempted. Maybe I was just a plaything to Matt, someone to pass around to Pete, or anyone else who wanted me. I was tortured by my thoughts.

Finally, Pete called and said Matt wanted to see me. I had no choice but to go with him.

During the drive to Bad Nauheim, Pete made no mention of what had transpired between us, and neither did I. I said nothing. I was very apprehensive being with him. I didn’t know, when he removed his hand from the steering wheel, if he was going to try to touch me, or just what was on his mind. I had no choice but to tell Matt.

That evening, when we were alone in his room, Matt asked me if anything was wrong.

My voice was trembling. I could hardly get the words out.

When I finally did tell him, Matt went crazy. “I’m going to kill him,” he shouted. He paced the floor, cursing Pete. I was his little girl, Matt said, and he had never gone all the way with me. Now this other guy, this so-called friend of his, had tried to rape me. I listened as he shouted, secretly relieved at his response. How could I ever have doubted Matt?

Matt was so angry, it took me the whole evening to calm him down. I finally convinced him that we had to keep Pete’s attack secret from my parents, or I’d never be allowed to come back. Matt held me tightly, as if trying to take the painful memory away. He felt guilty for having put me in such a dangerous position.

From that time on, Pete was fully excluded from Matt’s life. I don’t think Matt ever told him why, but Pete must have known. He rarely came around after that.

I began to realize that Matt expected total loyalty from his friends. If he was betrayed, he would just cut that person out of his life.

James was now sporting a neatly trimmed mustache that, according to Matt, Angela Stanley had encouraged him to grow. Mine and James’s conversations in the car were somewhat boring, and I always sensed he’d just as soon be doing something else, like spending the time with Angela, who sometimes accompanied him.

These days when I arrived at 18 Hauptstrasse I’d often find Matt upstairs studying the ancient art of karate with his instructor or downstairs in the living room proudly demonstrating new moves to his entourage, who stood about interested at his mastery of this newly popularized art form.

Matt also spent hours with a half-mad German masseur who had him convinced he could rejuvenate facial skin with his secret treatments, Matt having always been self conscious about some large pores on his face started to see him. Nate Doe ribbed Matt, saying, “What the hell’s he doing that’s so special? You look the same to me.” Defensively, Matt shot back, “Well damn! He says it’ll take some time before you see the results.” James interjected: “Time? Yeah, probably enough time to bankrupt us all by what he’s charging. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.”

Always a center of activity at the house was Matt’s grandmother, who he nicknamed Dodger. Matt had come up with the name when he was a small boy of five and, during a temper tantrum, had thrown a baseball, missing her head by inches. Matt jokingly said, “She dodged out of the way so fast.” He started calling her Dodger from that moment.

Grandma took care of the household, did the cooking, kept everyone and everything under control. She had the air of a person with a firm purpose in life, which, in Matt’s case, was to make sure he was very well cared for. When I sought quiet while Matt practiced karate, Dodger’s room was a place to escape to. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about the old days, about Mary Lou and her boundless love for Matt, about the grim struggle the Sturniolos had waged for survival. She had been with James and Mary Lou from the time of Matt’s birth, helping out when Mary Lou took jobs to contribute to the family’s support. A strong woman, Grandma had prevailed when her husband had walked out on her, leaving her with five children. She wanted you to believe she held a grudge against J. D. Sturniolo, but Dodger was a forgiving heart and I believe she still cared for him.

She helped raise Matt as if he were her own son, somewhat spoiling him as grandmothers do. She always rushed to his defence when she felt Mary Lou was too stern. Dodger said to me, “Mary Lou always called me Mrs. Sturniolo from the time I first met her until she breathed her last breath. One day Matt came running in and said, ‘Hi, Minnie!’ I felt so sorry for that young’un. Mary Lou rose up, took her hand to that boy, and said, ‘Don’t you ever call her by her first name. That’s disrespectful. She’s your grandma.’ He cried for an hour. I went in and said, ‘Son, it’ll be all right. She was just doing what she thought was right. Now you go in and apologize to her.’ Poor little boy looked at me with those blue eyes. So pitiful. Oh, she could be hard on him. He was a good boy, though. Never really got into any trouble, always came right home from school and did his chores. Yes, and Mary Lou would watch over him like a hawk, so scared he’d be hurt. He wanted so bad to play football at school.”

Grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, seeing something in the past that made her start picking at the bobby pins in her hair. She reached for her little box of snuff, took a dip, situated it just right, and then continued to reminisce. “Yes, he loved sports.”

“Then why didn’t he go out for any, Grandma?”

“Oh no. Mary Lou wouldn’t have that. She’d tell me, ‘Oh, Mrs. Sturniolo, I couldn’t stand it if Matt got hurt. It would kill me. I’ve watched how they play out there in those fields. They get real rough. I think they enjoy hurtin’ each other. Matt isn’t like that. He’d get out there and he’d be like a wounded bird in a pack of wild dogs. Not my young’un.’” Mary Lou’s constant effort to protect Matt, I learned, was the result of her anguish over the death of Matt’s twin brother Joseph Aaron Sturniolo.

I came to love Dodger and what she represented, compassion and total devotion to her family.

My biggest problem in those days was that Matt and I never seemed to have enough time alone. People were always dropping by, standing around the living room talking and laughing, until Matt came down from his room. As soon as he appeared, the room would become silent until he revealed his mood. No one, including myself, dared joke around unless he laughed and then we all laughed.

Because I had to share the little time I had with Matt with so many others, I began to feel jealous and possessive. It was only late in the evening, when we were in his bedroom, that I was truly happy.

We had a nightly ritual. At about ten or eleven, Matt would glance at me and look toward the stairs. Then, naively assuming that nobody knew where I was headed, I’d casually proceed to his bedroom, where I’d lie on his bed, impatiently waiting for him to appear. When he joined me, he’d lie as close to me as he could. “I love you,” I whispered. “Shhh,” he said as he put his fingers to my lips. “I don’t really understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve grown to love you, y/nn. Dad keeps reminding me of your age and that it can’t be possible . . . When I go home . . . Only time will tell.”

Each night that I was with him he entrusted a little more of himself—his doubts, his secrets, and his frustrations. It was a lot to expect an impressionable fourteen year old to understand, but I tried. I felt his pain over his mother’s death. I ached over his desire to become a great actor like his idols Marlon Brando, James Dean, Karl Malden, and Rod Steiger. I was concerned about his fears that he might not regain the popularity he felt he’d lost by serving in the Army. And I reveled in his laughter when he asked, “What if one day I end up back driving a Crown Electric truck? Wouldn’t that be something?”

I was there for him, to listen, to hold his hand, or to make a funny face that would turn his frown into a smile.

Sometimes Matt would enter his bedroom in high spirits. I longed for those nights when he’d shut off the lights and lie close beside me.

“Sweetness,” he would say, putting his arms around me. “You’re so pretty, Honey.” And then we’d kiss long, deep, passionate kisses, and his caresses would leave me weak with desire.

Nights when his mood was calm and peaceful, he would describe his ideal woman and tell me how perfectly I fit this image.

He liked soft-spoken y/hc with y/ec eyes. He wanted to mold me to his opinions and preferences. Despite his reputation for being a rebel, he held the traditional view of relationships. A woman had her place, and it was the man who took the initiative.

Loyalty was very important to him, especially on the woman’s part. He constantly reminded me that his girl had to be completely constant. He admitted that he was concerned about Nicole. She was a Boston beauty queen and television personality. Matt said that lately her letters had become very impersonal, and he suspected she had been with another man.

Despite his moralizing, I feared Matt wasn’t always faithful to me. His bantering with some of the other girls at his house made me think that he might be intimately familiar with them.

One evening he was playing the piano for the regular group, plus a couple of English girls. When he picked up his guitar, he looked around, but couldn’t seem to find his pick.

“Anybody seen my guitar pick?” he asked.

One of the English girls looked up and smiled. “It’s upstairs on the night table next to your bed. I’ll get it.”

All eyes, including mine, zeroed in on her as she made her way up the stairs, aware that she was now the center of attention.

Furious at his obvious betrayal, I turned to him, but he was avoiding my gaze by looking down at his guitar, plucking it as if it needed tuning. Then he burst into “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy.”

Without a pick, his fingers must have hurt badly, but no matter what, he wasn’t about to put that guitar down. He knew he was in trouble.

After he’d finished a medley of songs, Matt excused himself and retreated into the kitchen, with me right behind him.

“Have you been with her?” I demanded.

“No,” Matt insisted.

“Then how did she know where your guitar pick and room were?”

“She was over one night, and I mentioned how dirty the place was,” he answered, a boyish grin on his face. “She offered to clean it, simple as that.”

Despite his declaration of innocence, I was not reassured. He was the sexual idol of millions and could choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I quickly learned, for my own survival, not to ask too many questions.

As the weeks passed, school became an unbearable chore. After getting to bed so late, I found it difficult to rise at seven and almost impossible to concentrate. But I knew that if I ever complained about being too tired, or was late for school, my parents would use the fact to put a stop to my seeing Matt.

My study habits became worse. I was failing algebra and German, and barely passing history and English. At the end of the fall semester, I altered the D-minus grade on my report card to a B-plus, praying my father would never consult the teacher. I kept telling myself that I would do better, that I’d catch up, but my concentration was totally on Matt.

One night when I went to see him, I fell asleep while waiting for him to finish his karate class. When he came downstairs and saw how exhausted I was, he asked, “y/n, how many hours of sleep are you getting?”

After a second, I said, “About four or five hours a night. But I’ll be fine,” I added quickly. “I’m just a little extra tired tonight because we had some tests at school today.”

Matt looked thoughtful, and then said, “Come upstairs a minute. I have something for you.” He led me up to his room, where he placed a handful of small white pills in the palm of my hand. “I want you to take these; they’ll help you stay awake during the day. Just take one when you feel a little drowsy, no more than one, though, or you’ll be doing handstands down the hallway.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know what they are; they give them to us when we go on maneuvers. If I didn’t have them, I’d never make it through the day myself. But it’s okay, they’re safe,” he told me. “Put them away and don’t tell anyone you have them, and don’t take them every day. Just when you need a little more energy.”

Matt honestly thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the pills, and I’m sure the thought never entered his mind that they could be harmful to him or me.

I didn’t take the pills. I put them in a small box with various items I had started to collect, such as cigar holders and little personal notes he had given me, and hid the box in a drawer.

Later I learned that the pills were Dexedrine, which Matt had first discovered in the Army. A sergeant had given several men pills to help them stay awake while on guard duty. Matt, who was accustomed to living the life of an entertainer and who despised rising at dawn, began taking the pills to get him through the long dreary hours of Army life. He told me he’d begun taking sleeping pills shortly before he’d been drafted. He dreaded insomnia and feared sleepwalking, which had plagued him periodically since childhood.

In fact, as a boy, he’d once sleepwalked straight out of his apartment, dressed only in his underwear. A neighbor woke him, and, embarrassed, he ran back into the house. Another time, he nearly fell out of a window. Consequently, to avoid accidents, he slept with his parents until he was grown, and he feared his sleepwalking habit for the rest of his life. It was one of the reasons he usually had someone sleeping with him.

Years later, I learned that someone had been employed in Germany to watch over him throughout the night.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i know this was a deeper chapter so for anyone who skipped it i promise its not very important to the story however Priscilla included this in her book so i thought i should share that too. 🎀

[juliet-without-romeo-stuff]

Family of LOG or 4th generation 🦋💛💙( imagine they are just under 15)

I wrote this a month back and now got the time to post it...these are just my ideas that randomly came and now i cannot let go off....

Nikolai king sokolav-Brandon sokolav king

David Sokolov king

Alexander Brandon sokolav king

Stella Hunter Sokolav king

( David and stella was through surrogacy and alex was adopted and Stella's middle name hunter is a honour to his dad ....stella has heterochromia... her one eyes is dark blue and one is dark green which her parents adore a lot....they all learn russian just like their daddy and speak in russian whenever they wants to do something which their dad bran will not accept like david wants to join in elites or heathens but bran said No because his uncle lan wants him to join elites whereas niko wants him join heathens 😂 he said you can only when you are on your correct age baby...

When David almost break someone bone because they spoke shit about his uncle lan...he called his daddy

Dad where are you?

"In the middle of the meeting" niko says while pausing his meeting in office..everyone knows niko will never ignore his family calls even if it is in the middle of an important meeting....

I broke someone's bone maybe not a major damage since josh dragged me away from that scumbag....

And the management called dad

Again...Niko asks

Yes..handle your prince charming...i will come home and explain to dad

Make sure you have valid reasons or else i also need to end up with you in your grounded for week punishment.. niko said

Definitely i have reasons..i will not use violence unless its needed and you and daddy knows that ...

Ok dad .bye.love you...

Love you too dav....niko hangs up

Yes it is very true that david will not use violence unless it is needed unlike stella ..his little princess have a same policy as him ''fist first, talk next'' not only this everyone knows them calls stella as little niko...since she is an exact carbon copy of Nikolai sokolav which is even agreed by landon king....

Stella even pickups Niko's obsessive traits and love for sweets.David is an copy of bran and lan since he is very quiet and emotionally strong .he observes more and will not tolerate any harm to his fam. Alexander is an carbon copy of Brandon king he is called as little prince and little posh boy.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Jeremy volkov -cecily knight volkov

Josh volkov

Cynthia volkov

(Josh and david are bestfriends just like their fathers...there is an interesting thing that is josh has an cute crush on Brandonking

On one vacation where everyone is having dinner its their habit to spend some time together....

Mommy what is crush? he asked cecy

Crush is someone you like baby...

Who's is your crush josh ... asked annika

Though everyone present there know the answer

Josh just turned towards bran and his eyes sparks

uncle Bran he says smiling

To which bran smiles and ruffles his hair

Why though? asked annika

He looks like a prince and he is so gorgeous aunt...josh said

"Back off buddy that's My Man" said niko smiling

Then uncle alex is mine...josh said shocking everyone

Little did they know josh likes alex......)

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Landon king-Mia sokolav king

Sofia astrid king

Slvia king

(Sofia's fav uncle and god father is Nikolai.k.sokolav..and lan be like first my little bro and now my little princess..when sofia was young she had a nightmare of her uncle niko was getting into an big accident she woke up crying screaming even lan and mia tried their best to calm her but she said she wants to meet niko right now...lan can't see his little princess crying so in the middle of night they traveled all the way to states when they came to the mansion that niko and bran are living with there kid david...sofia calmed down only after when she saw niko and niko always brag about how he is sofia fav and they ended up staying in states with nikobran for a week )

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Killian carson-Glyndon king carson

Meghan carson

Lewis carson

(Kill made sure that he will never ever do something like his father to his childrens ...he always made sure they both got his love and affection...one fathers day meghan did a handmade letter to kill to wish him fathers day and Killian carson cried so hard while hugging his daughter while meghan just pat him and tell him that he is the best)

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Crieghton king annika volkov king

Mattew king

Mattew likes boxing just like his dad...he always won in every match...mattew almost fought with everyone in thier family but he always make sure that he don't hurt them in serious way still he can't find why he can't fight with stella like he can with others....stella also love boxing and violence when bran asked her if she wants to learn ballerina like aunt annika ended up with she asked her uncle Criegh to teach her boxing hence bran wants her to do what she loves.....

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Eli king -ava nash king

Elizabeth king--isabelle king

Alacia king

(How everyone wants aiden to have a daughter but what if eli had daughters that too 3 daughters ....He will never ever have a chance to say no their one smile made him do everything they want...imagine having four girls in one household eli needs prayers and patience....)

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

Remington Astor-Ariella nash Astor

Taylor ron astor

Rythm Astor

(Taylor ron astor the middle name ron was an honour to his father that how great and best he is....Rythm is exactly a never ever mess with girl, imagine being raised by grandma teal and mom ariella and getting queen treatment from her grandpa and dad and brother her standards are higher then the mountain bruhh)

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Vaughan Morozov-Maya sokolav morozov

Nazya morozov

Nicholas morozov

Nazya is the most humblest and kindest girl in these log family ...that's why everyone around her will always be protective over her...think about hurting her and her uncle Niko will end you without any second thought ...

Nicholas morozov was named after Nikolai yes it is an gratefulness that maya felt towards her brother for everything he done for her ...for always being there for her even in worst time...That’s why she wants to give her son her brother name and in the naming ceremony everyone felt so happy and niko was so stunned and suprised he love his sister despite of everything happened)

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Kayden lockwood -Gareth carson

Hazel carson

(Hazel is adopted daughter .Gareth found her in an unexpected situation and can't let her suffer when she is just a month old ..he did take her to the heathens mansion where everyone is present for a party to celebrate kayden and gareth 's engagement....when he came while holding a baby., kayden rans towards him and asked him what happened? Gar just said i want to adopt her ...kayden just smiled and said ofc sweetheart but just tell me the whole matter please....ended up with adopting hazel and after 2 yrs they got married infront of hazel for that hazel just giggled and smiled at her parents she may not understand anything but she will be forever safe...)

Also Nikolai is everykids fav uncle because he is an absolute golden retriever... every kid like him to the core that one time when he was late to the gathering all the kids was sulking and gave him punishment to treat them icecream and need to spend the weekend with them in amusement park ..Niko ended up with booking whole amusement part for only them because he can't risk their safety......

Niko also appointed a huge number of bodyguards for his lotus flower since some years back bran was kidnapped...he will never forgive himself for being such careless though that was purely planned and done by the person that bran trust the most....

Okay there are some names which is inspired from some ffs of nikobran and that names really felt good so i really liked that names...THESE ARE JUST MY THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS NO OFFENSE TO ANYONE ....🦋💛 if you guys like just lemme know

[fleet-off]

fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love~<333333

Thank you for the ask, Yujeong! This took me a while to answer (I overthought the answers, as is my wont 😅), but it was so much fun.

A Close Shave

If running the razor down the side of Pete’s face felt intimate, the slick slide of blade against throat is something primal. Blood sings close to the surface, jugular an endless welling up, carotid a violent burst underneath. Drowning could not ease the pulse that sears through Vegas’s mind at the image—he suspects only one thing could. He could flick his wrist and end this. (He could nuzzle his face into the hollow of Pete’s neck and end this.)

In the safehouse, on the cusp of a transformation he cannot yet comprehend, Vegas shaves Pete’s face. Also a meditation on immolation and drowning. I struggle to compliment my own writing, but I think this fic has some of the best lines I’ve ever written. @sunshinesanctuary Dav did some devastating art for it, which made me cry heavily at the time and again whenever I think about it too hard (why are artists magic??).

a temporary abundance

Life used to be the means to a messy end, bodies tools given in service to a name larger than either of them. They are still learning what it means to live for living’s sake, to be made of flesh and openly want for all the things living flesh wants. It hurts because it matters. Such is living, and there is joy in being alive.

This little fic is more image than story—a golden moment of rest, Pete’s head in Vegas’s lap, and the recognition that the impermanence of stability makes it all the more precious. a temporary abundance was my first VP fic, and it has received some of my very favorite comments. It was how I met @theflowergirl Lily and my first interaction with @lu-sn lu.

Lapping at the Edges

There’s a kind of self-disgust you can find satisfaction in, narrow as the space between indignant inhale and resigned exhale. Ba, calling him a whore. The routine Vegas has straddled either side of: men much older than him, hungry for a taste of power, smiling through gritted teeth and sinking to their knees. His own knees, falling open as the world splits down its middle. Pete, frozen in the aftermath of a verbal blow. Inhale. Exhale.

Lapping at the Edges tormented me for ages—my evening of “drunk Vegas talks shit, asks to get hit” nonsense took two years to write after I trapped myself in an endless cycle of rewrites for chapter three. But ultimately, the struggle arose from my love for this story and the need to finish it right. I hope those who stuck around were satisfied by the ending. ❤️

won’t give up these ghosts

“Tell me what it’s like on the beach at night,” Vegas murmured as his head fell back onto Pete’s thighs. His mouth was a dark stain; his eyes were raptor-like. Pete caressed his head, searching for breath and words. “It’s like being the only stillness in the world,” he said at last. “The wet sand digs into your feet, and the sea is this massive moving thing you’re not a part of, and all you can see is water and sky and dark. And it sees you, but there’s nothing there to see of you. You’re safe. You’re—a void.”

All of my stories are in some sense about learning to live, but I suspect that message comes through clearest in this story, where Pete feigns death for the purpose of (nonsexual) funeral/body disposal roleplay. I love the contrast—lingering on death as an expression of the desire for life. (And Yujeong, I still often return to your comment on this one on hard days—it meant an awful lot to me.)

Passing Time

There are moments—too many, lately—when the tenderness presses heavy at the back of Vegas’s throat. Pete sits bright-eyed and pink-eared a mere breath away; he’s here, real and taking up space and confoundingly Pete and all, and when Vegas blinks he somehow continues to be. The weight of him dents his side of the couch and distorts the reindeer face on one of the Christmas-themed throw pillows.

It is a month—two, five, eight—since the world broke open and was remade in the shapes of what love is, and Vegas and Pete are still learning to live around the cracks. Writing in this kind of time-bound framework was a new challenge for me pacing-wise, and I think the result has some really lovely moments and lines. I wrote this fic as part of the 2023 KinnPorsche Big Bang, and was so fortunate to be paired with @kiiyuq yu, whose art for the piece is frankly the sort of thing that topples cities.

[bloodyquillink-blog]

I loved your reader x logan story!!!! it made me NEED more lol. Would you be willing to possibly write one for logan x reader where they meet at heshs wedding. Logan is best man for hesh, and reader is heshs finance maid of honor. they get forced to pair up and hate each other but then fall in love by the end of the wedding planning.

If it’s super confusing that’s okay!!

A/N 🪶: I’m glad you enjoyed it! I noticed you said they meet at Hesh’s wedding but then said they fall in love by the end of the wedding planning which was sort of confusing so I made a few adjustments if that’s okay. I will say I struggled with this prompt a bit, but the challenge felt good! I'm gonna label this one an f!reader as I noticed you used her when explaining.

Warnings/Tags: Reader wears a dress, Reader is from east coast, very fluffy and sweet, Happy Ending, Spaceballs(1987) Reference, Features a couple oc!characters as reader’s friends, Logan used to tease reader for being short, Keegan and Kick get bitches

Word Count: 5.1K

Who Would’ve Thought? Logan Walker x f!reader

You step out of the cab and grab your luggage from the trunk of the black SUV, your friends following. As your group moves to the sidewalk so as to not obstruct traffic, Wanda shades her eyes from the bright sun and looks up at the giant hotel.

“Lena’s fiancé rented out this whole place?!” Wanda exclaims in disbelief.

“Actually, it was her fiancés captain. David wasn’t even asking him to, he just brought up that they wanted some place nice and spacious for everyone and then his captain took care of it all.” Shawn corrects.

“Aw, that’s nice of him. Looks like he spared no expense either, shit!” Mara laughs.

“Looks like we’ll also be with a bunch of soldiers too, so remember to be nice! I’m looking at you, Mara.” You point.

“If they don’t mess with me, or any of you for that matter, then I won’t mess with them. Might wanna tell David to warn them too!” Mara doesn’t even look at you when she speaks, you already knew the drill after having known her and the others for so many years.

A car screeches to a stop right next to you, the door opening as Kat, your best friend since high school, jumps out and runs over to you all screaming incoherently.

“EEE! My girls!!! My best girls!!!” She manages to wrap all of you in her arms and squeezes you so tight, you begin to question if you’ll even make it to the wedding without some kind of breathing tool. Her soon-to-be husband steps out as well.

“H-Hi, Dav-id!” You squeak as Lena’s hug gets even tighter. You and your –breathless– friends endure the pain of friendship while David gets their luggage. He chuckles as he walks over to you all.

“Honey, you’re killing your friends.” He says, jokingly… you think.

“10 more seconds!” Lena shouts. David looks at each of you, smiling.

“We’ll remember all of you well, what kinda of graves do you want?” He jokes. Lena finally lets go and playfully smacks David on his arm.

“Yeah yeah, can’t a girl be happy to see her best friends?” She looks over at all of you, still smiling as wide as ever. You, Mara, Wanda and Shawn are hunched over, gasping for air as quietly, and gratefully, as possible. You hold out one of your hands.

“Good to see you in person again.” you pant. David gives you a half-hug so as not to make breathing even harder for you.

“I think you realigned my chakra with that hug.” Wanda groans.

“Which one?” Mara asks. Wanda pauses for a moment, still panting.

“All of them?” She answers. David continues giving hugs before kissing Lena on her forehead and wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“I think that might just be your spine shifting back into place.” Shawn points.

“So, how was the flight over here? Nothing too bad, I hope.” David asks. You talk with them as you bring your luggage inside the hotel. All of you had a relatively quick and painless flight, ignoring your bag almost breaking open twice and Wanda needing to replace hers in the airport when it broke after the first layover. Mara and Shawn were all set and helped her pick out better suitcases. At one point, Mara offered to hold some of your things in her bag. It’s not that either of them traveled light, Shawn noted, they just packed more efficiently than you. You stuck your tongue out at her for that.

As you each receive your room keys, you hear the revolving door swirl. David looks over and waves to a small group of men, all dressed in mostly dark clothes despite the summer heat. One of them is absolutely huge with a beard, the next three are relatively similar in size and height, their eyes dark as they walked just a bit behind the older man. You recognize one of them but you can’t remember how. He holds your gaze until David begins introducing them.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet my sweet old Captain.” He smiles as you all chuckle amongst yourselves. The man eyes David before shaking each of your hands.

“Call me Merrick. If you ever want to hear any stories about David, let me know. I suddenly have plenty to share.” Your group giggles as David deadpans and rolls his eyes before introducing the next man to come up.

“This is Keegan “The Smoothtalker” Russ, he and Merrick both worked with my dad a while back before the Federation. One of the most reliable men I know.” Keegan walks forward to shake your hands as well.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” his voice is even deeper than Merrick’s, “I hope I can make your night as well.” You notice he holds onto Mara’s hand a bit longer than everyone else’s, he stares directly into her eyes. Mara doesn’t shrink at all despite his intimidating aura.

“I’d like to see you try, tough guy.” She shoots back. Keegan smirks as he steps back into his original spot. Mara doesn’t usually flirt, but when she does, it’s honestly inspirational. 

David moves on to the next man, he bares some resemblance to David, actually. Wait…

“This is my brother, Logan, the first most reliable man I know.” He doesn’t say anything. Your friends offer a small wave, while you stare.

“Long time no see, Logan.” You say, smiling. He nods, smirk on his face, while David moves on. The next man is a little shorter than Keegan and Logan, but seems somewhat more approachable.

“This is Kick, the biggest nerd I know but another one of the most reliable men I know.” Kick rolls his eyes and steps forward to shake everyone’s hands.

“You may not know this but Hesh- er- David,” He corrects, “is unintentionally the funniest man I know.”

“Thanks, Kick–”

“I mean you should see him whenever he faceplants on the field after slipping, it’s like a cartoon. He gets up and it’s like he got a mud mask.” You all giggle as Kick walks back with his head high and David bites his lip as his ears turn pink.

“Don’t suppose you have pictures?” Shawn asks, Kick shakes his head but smiles.

“If I get any, I’ll send them to you right away.” David is gritting his teeth at this point.

“Okay, hun, do you wanna introduce your friends?” Lena brings her hands together, excited.

“Oh yeah! David and Logan already know her but,” She introduces you first. “She’s my best friend since high school! And this is Mara “The Baddie” Williams, and Wanda “The Mind Reader” Stevens and Shawn, who’s a nerd too! But it’s cool when she does it.”

“Interesting names. So, what qualifies you as a nerd?” Kick asks, amused.

“I did computer science and engineering in my first four years of college, then went back for my masters in computer science and I’m working on my doctoral, at the moment. I think she just calls me a nerd because I’m doing an ‘unnecessary amount of school’.” Shawn explains. Kick nods, appreciatively.

“What do you- you guys do?” Shawn seems nervous suddenly.

“I’m an IT specialist, so I also work with computers a lot.” Kick answers immediately. Shawn nods, smiling an awful lot more than usual.

“Cool, cool… and, uh, you guys?” 

“As Hesh pointed out, I am apparently a ‘sweet’ and ‘old’ Captain. My job is working with these assholes and others like them.”

“Jury’s still out on the ‘sweet’ part, but everything else, yeah. I’m one of the assholes he works with, sadly.” Keegan says with a straight face.

“Same thing for Logan and I, just a couple assholes trying to make the world a better place.”

“I knew it, I’m surrounded by assholes.” Shawna jokes. Wanda turns to her.

“Did you actually just make a Spaceballs reference? Right now?”

“It is a good movie.” Kick admits.

“See, he agrees with me so it must be correct.” Shawna and Wanda bicker about the film. Lena claps her hands to get everyone's attention.

“Okay, why don’t we get our keys and head to our rooms before dinner and we can relax a bit and explore the hotel.” She suggests. As she finishes, the rotating door slides as more soldiers enter and fill up the lobby, some passing by David and clapping him on the back.

“I gotta stay here to help everyone else get comfortable, but you guys go on ahead.” David and Lena share a quick kiss before she turns. She pulls out her key card and excitedly ran off and then ran back to grab her luggage and waved goodbye.

“It was nice to meet you all! See you at dinner!” With the weight of her luggage, it was more of a speed walk. You and the girls wave goodbye and follow her to the big elevator centered in the lobby. As you walk, you feel eyes on you. Once you get to the elevator and wait, you look around. It doesn’t take much to find out what’s wrong. You look back over towards David and see Logan staring in your direction. You hold his gaze for a moment and force yourself to wave at him. He just looks away, focusing on whatever David is talking about with his group.

You ignore the interaction (if you can even call it that) and join into the conversation your friends are having. Lena is explaining the schedule while Shawna corrects her.

“Okay, so! We have dinner at 6:30! It’s like noon right now-”

“It’s 1:30.”

“Same thing! So, I got a room for all of us to share so we can be roommates!”

“Like it’s college again!” Wanda interjects.

All of you file into the elevator and go to your shared room. There’s five beds spread out amongst the room. The bathroom includes a separate bath and shower with multiple baskets of travel size toiletries lined along the side of the bathtub. You all set down your luggage beside one of the beds and sit down on the soft mattress and plush covers, talking amongst yourselves while you clean up for dinner.

After a few hours, you head down to the hotel restaurant. There were many tables filled already by David’s military friends. Him, Logan and his friends you met earlier sit at one table amongst their peers while Lena leads you to a different table that’s within their view. Logan can easily just stare directly at you from his spot which is exactly what he’s doing. When you look at him, you see the smile on his face. You almost immediately feel the weight of possible insults he could throw at you. 

When you were younger, you knew the Walker boys when they attended the same middle school as you on the east coast since their family was moving around a lot at the time before going back to San Diego. While Logan was quiet then, he still managed to make silent jokes at your expense. He’d rest his elbow on your head or bend his knees or hunch over dramatically to highlight the height difference between you two at the time. One time, he saw a chihuahua being walked by its owner and pointed at it then pointed at you before patting your head and continuing to walk beside David, their longer strides made it hard for you to catch up.

None of those jokes seem to come from him now but it left an imprint at the time that was apparently enough to make you self-conscious in front of him these days. 

Maybe I should’ve worn heels, you thought. 

Whatever, it's too late now. Lena put her purse down in her chair.

“I’ll be right back!” and she scurried off to see David. Their happiness is worth it. You can get through the dinner. You and your friends take a look at the menu. Before long, everyone’s ordering and drinking together. Lena’s since returned from the other table and excitedly talks about the hotel. “It’s so nice, I can’t wait to explore it with all of you. I think I heard they have an arcade room somewhere.” As everyone talks, your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number: Can you tell Lena I said thank you for giving me your number?

Who the fu-

You look up at Logan again. That same damn smile on his face, phone in hand. His smile looks so damn genuine but you can’t help but feel like it’s fake. You look at Lena.

“You gave him my number?!” You whisper yell.

“Oh yeah! He asked me for it and I thought ‘Why not’, so now you guys can catch up a bit while everything’s going on.”

As much as you want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her silly, you can’t. She was trying to be nice and this was something for you to take up with him yourself, like an adult. You exhale through your nose and show her the text.

“He wanted me to say thanks.” You chuckle. You refuse to ruin her mood in any way on the week of her wedding, especially if she’s done nothing wrong. She smiles and turns to look at Logan, bringing two thumbs up which he returns. You bite your tongue and type in his name for the contact before typing more.

You: It’s rude to text during dinner

Logan Walker: Tell that to Kick and your friend.

With wrinkled brows, you look up at your table and see Shawn typing which is strange because Shawn’s the one who reminds everyone of table etiquette. You look between Kick and Shawn, remembering their interaction earlier. Oh?

“Shawn, what happened to your table manners?” You ask, trying not to smile. She looks up with wide eyes, suddenly shy again.

“Oh! Sorry, I, um…” Her phone buzzes. Lena finished sipping her wine.

“Guilty, I may or may not have given Kick her number too!” Lena chimes in.

“It’s been like 5 minutes and you’re already forgetting table manners? Okay, Shawn, I see you.” Shawn flushes at your comment and finishes a quick text before putting her phone away, smiling at Kick who sees her and smiles back.

“Done now! So, what were we talking about?” Shawn’s face is still red as she attempts to shift the conversation. As Mara and Wanda poke and prod, your phone vibrates.

Logan Walker: Since it’s so rude, I’ll text you after dinner.

You: Much appreciated

Logan Walker: But before I do, I just wanted to say you look nice tonight.

You: I feel a joke coming on

Logan Walker: A joke?

You: Nevermind

You shove your phone in your bag and get back to the conversation at hand. Not too long after, dinner is served. You share laughs and drinks, as well as small bites of your gourmet meals. Afterwards, dessert is served. You can’t tell which course you enjoyed more but both taste like heaven.

When the night is over, everyone heads back to their rooms, aside from Lena and David who spend some time together away from their “roommates”. You sit in bed, showered and ready to sleep when you remember the texts. You pick up your phone and read.

Logan Walker: So what did you mean by joke?

You: You remember in middle school when you’d always make fun of my height

Logan Walker: Oh.

The hell does “Oh.” mean?

Logan Walker: And you thought I was gonna make fun of you tonight?

You: I was expecting it yeah

Logan Walker: I meant what I said earlier.

Logan Walker: I didn’t realize I bothered you so much back then.

You wait a few seconds, seeing three dots appear and disappear a couple times.

Logan Walker: I’m sorry.

He’s apologizing? You debate your response in your head.

You: Thanks

Logan Walker: I’ll let you be, it’s late. I’ll see you at brunch tomorrow.

Logan Walker: Don’t be late.

You: I am never late

Logan Walker: You were late to dinner.

You: I was right on time!

Logan Walker: In the military, if you aren’t early, you’re late.

You: The bride decides the time of arrival

Logan Walker: You made that up.

You: You’re applying a military “rule” to civilians

Logan doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t see any dots.

You: I got you there

You: Goodnight mr sergeant walker sir

You immediately put down your phone smiling to yourself as though you just broke a rule in an elementary school class on purpose and feel that little rush of doing something “bad”. If your friends weren’t sleeping, you’d probably be giggling or some shit like a damn schoolgirl. As you roll over on your side, ready to sleep, you realize something. Logan Walker made you smile. You go to bed feeling warm and fuzzy.

You wake up the next morning to Lena shaking you awake before she moves on to the others. You collectively get ready and head out by 10:30 for brunch. Before the doors open, you swear you can already smell the food. You eat in the same restaurant area of the hotel as you did last night. While the tables remain in the same spots, the room has brought in more tables, all divided into sections where chefs make and serve food. You can even see the spice racks hanging on the walls that must’ve been moved in here. As everyone moves throughout the room, you sit down with Mara and Wanda. Lena joins not too long after.

“Where’s Shawn?” She asks. Mara looks around and points, smiling. Shawn is walking around beside Kick as they talk, almost looking excited. Kick intently listens and you notice whenever he finishes talking, Shawn’s smile gets a little wider. Wanda pulls out her phone and sends a quick text before eying Shawn carefully. Shawn pulls her phone out, Kick waiting patiently. Suddenly, she looks up at your table of smirks and turns back to Kick giggling, her face already red. After a minute more of talking, they go their separate ways. You see Kick sit beside Logan and he makes a comment that has Kick rolling his eyes. Logan’s eyes turn to you and he smiles. This time you smile back at him and get to eating.

The next couple days are a blur. You and your friends explore inside and outside the hotel, hanging out in mud baths at the spa with some other ladies, and you think you see a couple men too, from the military getting massages. As much as you want one as well, they probably need it more if the content groaning you hear says anything. You’re all sure to say thank you before heading out for shopping. You already brought your bridesmaid dress, but you see a pale blue dress with flowy sleeves that you must have. You notice Mara, Shawn and Wanda have matching dresses tailored to their style and body, their dresses are nearly at the floor and the sleeves go to their wrists whereas yours stops before your elbows and the hem is a little above your ankles. They all wear a variety of darker shades of blue while yours is noticeably more pastel than theirs.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you already picked out dresses! Do they have more of those?” Lena grabs you by the shoulders, a firm grip.

“You won’t be needing to match them! In fact, it’s good you won’t.” She has another excited look on her face. Before you can ask her what wicked thing she has planned, she spreads her arms out in front of you.

“You’re my maid of honor!” Your mouth drops open. You look at the others who are all smiling almost as wide as her.

“You little shits, did you plan this?!” You know the answer and they all confirm with a nod and you squeal, giving Lena a bear hug. Both of you practically fighting to crush the other in your arms, but lovingly so. Eventually, everyone joins in.

After more shopping and spending time with your girls, you text Logan to let him know you were all heading back. The wedding was tomorrow and your favorite love birds, David and Lena, already had arrangements to make sure they didn’t see each other at least 24 hours before the wedding.

Logan Walker: Don’t worry, we have him locked in the bathroom.

You: Will that hold him?

Logan Walker: No, but this is what we’re trained for.

You: You’re trained to hold your brother in a bathroom?

Logan Walker: The army prepares us for everything.

You felt bold tonight.

You: What else are you prepared for?

Logan Walker: Can’t say, surprise attacks only work when no one expects them.

You: Are you gonna attack me?

Logan Walker: Maybe. Probably.

Logan Walker: Only if you give me a reason to.

You: Yeah ok soldier boy

You suddenly feel like you’re in trouble.

You: I’m sorry

Logan Walker: You’re in room 345, right?

You: …no

Logan Walker: You have 5 seconds to tell me the truth.

You: IM SORRY

Logan Walker: 4

You: IM INNOCENT

Logan Walker: 3

You: LOGAN NO

Logan Walker: 2

You: OKAY FINE

You: YES

You: SHIT

You: Fuckin interrogating me

Logan Walker: It’s my job.

You: Is it tho?

Logan Walker: When necessary.

You: Yeah that’s not ominous at all

You: Wedding’s tomorrow

Logan Walker: Oh, is it? I didn’t know that.

You: Yeah okay stupid comment

Logan Walker: Happens to the best of us.

You: So you admit I’m the best?

There’s a pause.

Logan Walker: Goodnight.

You: Thats a yes!

You: Im calling it a yes!

You: Im the best!

You see he’s reading your texts but not answering and decide to stop.

You: Goodnight

Before you can put your phone down, it vibrates.

Logan Walker: I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.

And the conversation ends there.

Finally, the morning comes and Lena can’t sit still. After having to text back and forth with Logan about moving through the hotel so the couple doesn’t see one another, everyone heads out. You make it safely to the bride’s dressing room with everything you need. The hair stylist and makeup artist are already there and greet you inside. Lena’s mom has also joined to help her with the dress. Before you and the bridesmaids start getting ready, you take turns going out in casual clothes to get small snacks and water for everyone. You talk about the schedule of the day and occasionally past weddings you’ve attended.

Sometimes, Lena’s mom chimes in about her wedding, and the disaster it almost became multiple times the day of. From the makeup artist getting food poisoning when only half her face was done, the marriage officiant came in with crutches and a limp, the cake was almost destroyed when it was left somewhere in the hotel and no one knew where (keeping in mind the hotel you’re in is smaller than the even fancier hotel her mom was married in.). 

As time continued going on and you all got yourselves together, it was time. Lena’s beautiful in her long white dress and veil that framed her face. Mara, Shawn and Wanda look amazing in their darker hues. Lena’s mom’s trying not to cry. And you felt pretty. Not even pretty, shit, you felt gorgeous. After thanking the makeup artist and hair stylist, you head out.

Lena and her mom walk arm in arm, David is biting his lip as he fails to contain a wide smile. You’re sure you can see tears in his eyes. You and Shawn and Mara and Wanda walk in pairs behind Lena. As Lena stands across from David, you stand on the far left side of the front with Mara, Shawn and Wanda standing to your right. You look across the way at the groomsmen. At Logan. Where your dress is lighter than the bridesmaids, his suit is lighter than his fellow groomsmen. The groomsmens suits are dull in comparison to the bridesmaids. Everyone still looks great and matches wonderfully. Logan looks so handsome. The entire time, you guys eye each other when the other looks away. Lena is crying and David is trying to hold back his tears, both still smiling at one another.

The vows and kiss are what break David, even with tears he continues smiling at his bride while everyone claps. Logan’s smiles and all of the groomsmen crowd around him as the photographer stands in the middle of the aisle. Then you, the bridesmaids and Lena take a photo as well. You spend almost another hour taking photos of everyone together in the venue before the afterparty ceremony begins. The toast and dinner seems to bring everyone even closer, you find yourself talking with a few other soldiers. Afterwards, at the cake cutting, Lena and David hold the knife together and pick out a slice. Lena swipes her finger against the knife, picking up the leftover frosting, before lightly pressing her finger onto the tip of David’s nose. He stares at her for a second before squishing his nose onto her cheek, returning the frosting.  The interaction is held onto by the photographer taking pictures of the moment.

A few minutes later, David and Lena come up to you.

“So, how do you like dancing?” She asks.

“... You’re planning something again, aren’t you?” You respond, all too aware of her tendencies.

“Oh, no.”

“You’re not?”

“No. It was already planned.”

“What was planned?”

“So, the best man and maid of honor are expected to be paired for the dancing.” She’s smiling as though something mischievous has happened.

“So…” Logan appears before you can ask anything. 

“Logan’s my best man. Lena was telling me about her plans for the bridesmaids dresses, so I did the same for the groomsmens suits.” David explains. Your face feels warm.

“W-Well, I’m ready when you guys are. Just, uh, say the word.”

“The word is now!” The music immediately changes to something soft and sweet. David and Lena move to the middle of the room. You and Logan stand on the opposite side of the floor to the tables. You back at Logan and do a double take when you see Kick and Shawn on the other side of Lena and David. You smile at her, her face is more red than ever. You think you see the redness goes all the way to her hands, of which Kick holds tenderly. Kick looks over and smiles at the both of you. You look back to Logan and think about the whole situation. Your best friend is getting married, your other friend apparently has a love interest, and you have some kind of maybe love interest person, kind of, possibly (good lord, even your thoughts are flustered). You see Shawn pointing towards the tables and Kick chuckles. You look over and your jaw drops.

Just off to the side of the tables, away from the dance floor, Mara leans against Keegan while he has his hands around her waist. He rests his chin on her head while she covers her face in her hands, giggling. Were all of you reduced to fits of giggles because of military men? Apparently so. As all of you chuckle to yourselves, you look at Logan. He’s smirking at you, his cheeks are a little pink.

“Hi…” You whisper, staring into his eyes.

“Hi.” He whispers back, staring back at you. 

“I’m glad I saw you again, Logan.”

“Me too.” He pauses for a moment. “You still on the east coast?”

“Yeah, yeah. Never really left. It’s just my place, I guess.”

“Everyone has their place in the world.”

“I guess they do, yeah.”

“Would you mind if, after all of this, I visited?” You blink, a smile slowly creeps onto your face.

“I’d like it if you did.” Logan smiles wide and attempts to keep his cool. The flow of the conversation is interrupted by Wanda sauntering over.

“Hehe, hi guys.” Her words are almost slurred.

“Wanda, how much have you had tonight?” She pauses a moment, thinking.

“Um, I think, like, maybe a couple?”

“A couple?” You and Logan have stopped moving at this point, but your hand is still in his and his other hand remains on your hip. You’re both smiling to yourselves.

“Yeah, hehe.” Merrick walks up behind her. “Oh, hi, Captain sir!” He silently brings his arms around her stomach and lifts her just enough to get her feet off the floor, allowing him to walk away while Wanda continues her drunken giggling. You watch as he sets her down and instructs her to sit in a chair, before moving all alcoholic drinks away. She pouts looking at the cup of water that just so happens to be in front of her. You start laughing, trying to be silent so as to not draw attention away from Lena, but your fit has you putting your forehead on Logan’s chest. You feel him rumbling from his chuckles. You look back up and catch Lena laughing and directing Logan to a Merrick, who’s smirking down at the still pouting Wanda. Everyone’s happy tonight it seems. Even as the party dies down, it stays that way. Full of happiness.

~A couple months later~

You walk to your front door after hearing a firm couple of knocks. You look through the peephole and smile to yourself, heart pulsing. Opening the door, you see the man you’ve been waiting for. Logan grins, moving forward to pull you into a tight hug. His arms are always so warm, you’ve noticed.

“I missed you so much, what took so long?” You ask.

“A nearly canceled flight, traffic, there’s more if you wanna hear about it.” He answers, grabbing his luggage and bringing it in. 

“Tell me everything! I’m still making dinner.” You spend the next thirty or so minutes cooking and talking, Logan talks and tastes the food intermittently. His vacation consists of exploring your town and attending special events throughout his time here. You catch up on your lives, or as much as he can tell you about. Originally, it was supposed to be two weeks of staying at your home. This changed to three, then four, and so on until Logan ended up changing his address  and bringing in boxes. While he still has to leave for months at a time every once in a while, it makes seeing him worth it.

Then the day comes when he’s home for good. He stays in the state with a new job. You learn to lose the fear of losing him with every night you spend in one another's arms. Years later, you’re having your own wedding with him. Your friends wear similar bridesmaids dresses and groomsmen suits to remind yourselves of the event that led to this… the happiest moment of your life.

I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for your request. I will add this to my CoD Stories series on Ao3 @ RiversSong82

[kalkydra]

a lot of the criticism of veilguard i just can't take seriously. i mean it's like that for most games because people just don't think about what exactly goes into game development but with the veilguard criticisms specifically a lot of it is stuff like. well i made x choice in origins and it turned out not to matter. kind of thing. and it's just... okay do you know how much work it would take to make every single decision in the last three games matter? do you realize how many versions of the game would have to exist in order for that to be the case? bioware already treats its employees like shit (see the massive layoffs of the dav team just recently!) do you seriously want them to be even more overworked and underpaid? don't answer that i know these people are the ones who would throw a shit fit if they couldn't get bananas year-round

[chaoticstrata]

WIP...Monday? (Rookcanis Fic)

I realized I didn't post a work in progress-last Wednesday, so here's a longer one today!

I'm not 100% with this. It feels like I'm forcing too much, but it could be that I'm not used to having so many people in a scene. I'm trying to give some backstory for Kai and to set up the next story.

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

The dining hall was filled with the smells of roasting brussel sprouts, cooked pork, and coffee. Rook could already feel his stomach rumbling, more than ready to dig into dinner. However, there was still some time before everything was done. Sighing, Rook settled in further on the corner of the couch, one foot tucked under his leg while the other was flat on the floor. A book he found on old poisons cradled in his lap as he casually read the contents. Maybe he could find a poison for Viago to add to his collection, for the other man’s nameday. Although, with how particular his mentor was, that might be an impossible task.

“Hey Rook?”

Rook slowly looked up from his book as one Bellara Lutare sat down next to him in the cozy little corner they’d been building up since arriving at the Lighthouse. Her uncertain tone suggested she was about to ask him something he may or may not want to answer. 

Raising a brow he replied, “Yeah, Bel?”

“Could I ask you something sort of personal?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, “Well maybe not sort of…most definitely personal…but you don’t have to answer! Or you could say-”

“Bel,” Rook interrupted her with a soft laugh, “What’s the question?”

“Right, sorry,” she said, shifting in her seat. “I couldn’t help noticing your facial tattoos…or uh…” 

“My vallaslin? Yeah, they are a little hard to miss,” Rook chuckled, already knowing where this conversation was about to head. He noticed a few of their other friends looking over with varying levels of interest. Which wasn’t surprising in all honesty. He couldn’t remember a time where he went into a large amount of detail about his past with the team. They pretty much knew the basics--that he was a Crow of house de Riva, a spellblade Mage, a bit of a sarcastically sassy bastard, and that he was addicted to coffee just as much as Luancis was. So, of course, they were going to be interested in new information they could glean from him.

The veil jumper seemed excited by the confirmation “So they are real! I mean, of course they’re real but…”

“Bellara,” he laughed, dog earring the page he was on and closing the book. He looked over at her, more than highly amused. “Are you, in a roundabout way, trying to ask if I’m Dalish?”

“Yes,” she replied abashedly as she gave him a sheepish look--adorable crooked grin and all.

The Crow chuckled again. 

“I was born into a Dalish clan,” Rook shared, “but I left the clan with my mother when I was around six. She raised me with my father in Treviso.”

“Oh?” Bellara asked, scooting her chair closer in excitement, “Which clan?”

“I…don’t know, actually,” he admitted, shrugging when she gave him a curious look. “I was young when we left, so I only have vague memories of the clan, and my mother refused to tell me when asked.”

“What about your father? Did you ask him?” Davrin inquired as he joined them in the sitting area. “You mentioned he was in Treviso with you.”

Rook hesitated a moment, trying to think of how to respond that wouldn’t subjugate him with further questions…at least about his fathers.

“I did mention that, yeah…but the man I call father isn’t the man who helped bring me into this world. He’s the one who raised me,” the elven assassin explained, “…my birth father, my Da, died around the same time we left the clan.”

Bellara gasped softly while Davrin visibly winced. 

The Warden instantly apologized. “Shit, Rook, I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright Dav, there was no way for you to know,” Rook interrupted, giving him a small smile. “No harm done, I promise.”

“Still…” Davrin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Before an awkward silence could fall over them, Taash dragged over a chair from the table and sat on it backward.

“So, why’d you and your mom leave your clan?” they asked, resting their chin on their arms.

Rook couldn’t help but grin at Taash’s straightforwardness, it was his favorite thing about them. Admittedly, he saw them like the little sibling he never had, especially with helping them discover themself much like he did all those years ago. It felt like he had taken them under his wing and became the over protective big brother. Granted, they’d probably say they didn’t need his protection--which was true, but still. Was this what Viago felt about him? Like a big brother? Rook certainly played the role of annoying little brother…so, probably not the exact same way. 

Setting his book on the table--he knew wasn’t going to get a chance to open it again before dinner--he raised a hand and let fire dance over his fingers before extinguishing it with a closed fist.

“Because my magic manifested and the clan already had too many mages,” he said matter-of-factly, “and they were very traditional with…well, everything--or so my mother tells me.”

“I take it they had a Keeper and a First?” Davrin asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, plus a few others, like a spirit healer and apothecary…I think,” Rook answered, “They were pushing five or six when I was born. While they were a larger clan in general, that was still probably too many for them.”

“Why would too many mages matter?” Taash inquired with a frown.

“Oh! There’s a number of reasons why,” Bellara spoke up, “To keep the Templars away, to keep from infighting on who would be First or Keeper--granted…that still usually happened…and it really depends on the clan.”

“It also meant less of a chance of demons or abominations…” Davrin added, sipping from the cup he brought over, “one could easily wipe out a smaller clan…”

Rook stopped listening after a bit, glancing over at Lucanis, who was still working away in the kitchenette. To the casual observer, the other Crow showed no indication he was paying their conversation any mind. However, Rook could see by how he positioned his body and tilted head that Lucanis was keenly listening in. 

His attention was drawn back to the conversation around him when Taash directed another question towards him.

“So are you Dalish or Antivan?”

Rook grinned and leaned against the arm rest.

“Not that I’m exclusively one or the other,” he chuckled softly, “but…I consider myself an Antivan who pays homage to his Dalish roots where he can.”

“Oh…” they murmured before tilting their head inquisitively, “Did your mother teach you all the Dalish stuff then?”

His smile softened at the question, knowing they were seeing similarities with their own mother.

“She did, but only after I asked about it…although she did stroke the flames of that curiosity by telling me old Dalish bedtime stories,” Rook replied with a soft laugh. He gestured to his vallaslin, “I got invested enough to learn elven and ask for these when I came of age--typically not how that is supposed to be done, but my mother didn’t seem to mind.”

“Did those hurt?” Taash probed.

“Fuck yes they did,” Rook laughed, grinning when Darvrin and Bellara nodded in solidarity. “And that was with someone who knew what they were doing.”

“Were they done by your mother?” Bellara asked, leaning forward in her seat, “She knows how to do blood writing?”

“No they weren’t, no she doesn’t, and mine were done by a Keeper,” he replied, a small grin on his lips.

“Wait…but…”

“Not the Keeper from the clan we left,” Rook chuckled, “There’s one that passes by Treviso and trades there often. Clan Velannor. They’re…a little non-traditional--compared to most clans anyways.” 

“How so?”

“While they do keep various traditions alive, they strive on looking forward to the future of elves instead of back. Because of this, Keeper Nerian had no qualms about performing the blood writing ceremony.”

[zombolouge]

31 Days of Dragon Age

following this prompt list!

Oct 18: Favorite DA2 NPC

I have trouble answering these about DA2 for the exact opposite reasoning I had in DAO: instead of too few options, I feel like I have too many! How do I choose?!?!

I mean, there's Cullen, my sad traumatized bigot-boy that I worked very hard to beat some sense into. I spent SO much time developing Cullen in fic, I'd be remiss to not at least consider him. He's not even a good guy in DA2, he's at his best neutral and more frequently a piece of shit that needs therapy more than he needs command, but by god it's compelling to drag him through that recovery process.

But there's also Hot Grandma Flemeth, which was a hell of a way to start out the game, and also she hid in an amulet for a year and I think she gets drama points there. What is she up to? Is she working for or against Thedas???? I love to sit and ponder Flemeth, so she HAS to be considered.

Also, can we talk about Meredith fucking Stannard? Like, holy shit what a villain. That lady clearly thought she was the second coming of Andraste, she was off. her. shits. She looms so maliciously through the third act, has such an iron grip on the town, and don't even try to tell me she wasn't insisting all the templars under her command weren't dosed to high fucking hell with more lyrium than should have ever been permitted.

And let us not forget the Arishok, big and gruff and complex, not simply portrayed as a savage (how the hell they be giving the qunari more nuance in DA2 than they seem to be planning in DAV I will never understand, but I suppose I'll reserve my anger at that until it's proven to be so). And Elthina, her lazy-ass grip on neutrality the entire cause of half the bullshit that went down in Kirkwall because she was SUPPOSED to be in charge and yet couldn't be fucked to fix anything. Keeper Marethari and her holier-than-thou attitude that led her straight into getting fucking possessed by a demon to prove a point. Bartrand who drove himself insane trying to one-up his brother. Petrice? Danarius? The fucking serial killer???

I think ultimately my fave NPCs in DA2 are just the collective of villains. They were all SO fucked up and so complex, really driving the narrative into darker and darker turns, and there were so MANY of them. I haven't even finished typing this and I've already thought of at least three more I didn't even mention. Love me some fucked up little bastards causing havoc in the narrative. Love to write about em, love to smash a dagger into their faces.

[quitefair]

All the questions for the dragon age reblog

astagah bro susah ni..... (tak susah pun you know me too well huhu.... thanks for asking!!!!)

gonna have to keep track of what ive not already answered. also half of this is going under a cut because as always, it got too fuckin long.

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

I need to go back into the Keep and take a look. There's some stuff even within Tashak's canon run that I think I need to tweak.

Main plot

Denies being chosen by Andraste

Recruits mages as allies

Grey Wardens recruited as allies, rebuilt

Stroud left behind in the Fade

Alliance between Celene, Briala and Gaspard

Morrigan drank from the Well of Sorrows

(Softened) Leliana as Divine

Shared the truth about Ameridan and the first Inquisition with the world

Vowed to stop Solas at all costs

Companions

Blackwall becomes a Grey Warden

Saved the Chargers, Bull is Tal Vashoth

Cassandra didn't rebuild the Seekers

Cole becomes more spirit

Sera kills Harmond on her own

Varric tracks down the source of the red lyrium

Dorian did not reconcile with his father

Helped Vivienne with the Snowy Wyvern (people that don't do this, we can't fuckin be friends)

Helped Solas with his friend

Advisors

Softened Leliana

Cullen stopped taking lyrium

Du Paraquettes elevated to nobility

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

I've been talking a bit about her in the previous asks, but I have a somewhat vague idea rotating in my mind. Don't want to commit too much until I've played the game though.

(Those that want to peruse her tag, it's here.)

7. Which character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

I'm going to be real with you guys. If I had it my way, I don't want any of the previous characters to be in DA4. I've been scarred too many times with Bioware fucking up their characters in subsequent media.

What I'm trying to say is, keep your hands off Fenris or I'll come to your offices and kill every single one of you.

Then again, having said that. Maevaris Tilani, the woman you are. The moment she appears on my screen I'm going to need a defibrillator.

10. Which location are you most excited/hoping to explore in-game?

Antiva. Bioware, please. I need to see. Antiva. Rivain too but I have too much of an emotional attachment to the Antiva in my head.

12. What’s one thing you’re hoping we DON’T see in this next game?

As mentioned above, characters from previous games that are written badly. I don't want it. I don't need it. Let me play and be at peace.

13. What’s one thing you’ve seen confirmed so far that you’re a fan of?

The Veil Jumpers. God. I can't stop thinking about them, I need to know EVERYTHING about them. Veil magic, Rift magic, the science of the push and pull between Thedas and the Fade, separated only by a thin sheen of fabric. I'm going insane.

14. What’s one thing you’ve seen confirmed so far that you’re NOT a fan of?

At first glance, the combat and the interface really reminds me of a combination of God of War (2018) and the newer Assassins Creed games. And... I don't like that at all. As much as I adore GoW 2018, I want Dragon Age to be it's own thing. Yes yes you could say games can be inspired by other games, but I know for a fact that development of this game has been a nightmare, and shit has had to change last minute. God of War 2018 has been referenced as a game that made EA execs change the direction of what this game would've been, alongside Jedi Fallen Order.

We don't need another Soulsborne Action Adventure game. We need another Dragon Age. And this... really doesn't feel like a Dragon Age game so far.

15. Do you have any unpopular opinions about DAV so far?

Kinda answered in 14. I've refused to look at anything after I saw the gameplay reveal. I didn't think I was going to be as excited for this as I am. I didn't think I would have as visceral a reaction as I did to the character reveal trailer. The loredrops have been So Fucking Interesting. The characters are driving me insane. All of this already feels like the Dragon Age I know and love, and I don't want anything to spoil that for me until I can get my grubby little paws on the actual game.

I'll reserve my judgements and griping (oh there will definitely be griping) for then, my friends.

20. Post a picture or gif that conveys your current level of excitement for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!

[girlbob-boypants]

2, 4, 7, 12, 20 for the DA meme!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ☝️🤓

2. Which Dragon Age game is your favorite so far?

I have. Such a soft spot for DAI. I know it's because it was my intro into the series. I also have a big defensive spot for sequels that didn't get the production time they deserved so get behind me DA2.

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

Passing on this for now sorry asdfkj.

7. Which character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

Answered

12. What's one four thing you're hoping we DON'T see in this next game?

Cullen. Uh. Insane takes about how the elves deserve oppression in the modern era because of the evanuris. More "the Maker is so special compared to other Gods" shit. Templars being given more empathy than mages. Solas being given an actual redemption after how many people died just on the walk TO his ritual lmfao. He's gotta go live in the woods and be sad forever if the Solavellans don't kill him.

20. Post a picture or gif that conveys your current level of excitement for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!

[greensleeves-redhead]

“Is everyone okay?” Jack asked his fellow newsies.

The boys nodded.

The day had started out like any other, but one of Delancey’s goons had pushed Crutchie on his paper route, which caused a fight to break out. It lasted a good minute, with everyone getting a few punches in, and only ended when the boys were threatened with the cops as no one wanted to be taken to the refuge.

Jack looked each member of the group up and down, saying their names to himself to make a mental note that they were actually alright. When he got to the last boy, he paused. Davey. He was smiling as he always did, but his eyes were dark and pained and he was clutching his right side.

“What’s the matter, Davey?” Jack asked, noticing he was also struggling to stand. “Jack, I…” Davey muttered, falling forward.

Jack caught him as he fell and situated himself so that Davey was lying comfortably in his lap. He removed the hand holding his side with little resistance and peeled open his vest. His eyes widened and he gasped; a large red stain was spreading quickly across Davey’s checkered shirt.

“Shit!” Jack said, covering the spot with his own hand and pressing down hard. Davey groaned and stared up at Jack, his breath coming out in small short bursts, “it was Mo. He had a knife,” Davey said, “got me real good.”

“Shh, don’t talk. You need to save your energy” Jack replied. He glanced down at Davey’s side and his heart sank, realizing that the pressure he was applying had done nothing to stop the bleeding.

“Don’t just stand there, get some help!” Jack called out to the other newsies. A few boys took off running while the rest stood watch.

There was a brief pause in the action and Jack became hyper aware of the sounds of New York City. He was only brought back to reality by Davey’s voice saying, “hold me.”

Without hesitation, Jack wrapped his arms around Davey and pulled him close. Despite the added warmth, Davey shivered, the likely combination of pain and adrenaline.

“I never thought my life would end this way” Davey said.

“Don’t talk like that, yer gonna be fine” Jack responded, though he had a hard time believing his own words.

“P-promise me you’ll l-l-look after Les.”

Jack nodded, “promise.”

He looked Davey over again, the uneven rise and fall of his chest telling him he was struggling to breathe. Davey’s face was pale even for him and stared back at Jack with eyes that didn’t necessarily know what they were looking at. Jack pressed a hand to Davey’s forehead, his skin cold to the touch.

“I’m s-so tired.” Davey’s eyes blinked open and close.

“I know, but ya gotta hang on. The boys will be back soon and then the docs will have you patched up in no time.”

“Jack, you and I both know I-I’m not going to m-make it that l-long.”

Jack let out a small sob and pressed his forehead against Davey’s as the tears started to fall.

He lifted his head and Davey reached up with what little strength he had left and began to wipe away his tears, “y-you were fine b-before y-you met me and you’ll be f-fine long a-after I’m g-gone too.”

“But I don’t want to live without you, I can’t live without you.”

“Jack, please. Y-you need to let me go.”

“No, Davey, ya can’t do this, ya can’t die, ya just can’t.”

Davey’s eyes fluttered open once more and locked with Jack’s, “I’ll a-a-always be w-with you. I lo-love y-“ Jack frantically planted a kiss on Davey’s lips. Davey embraced the kiss as his body went limp in Jack’s arms.

“Davey?” Jack asked. The boy did not answer.

“Dav-oh god, don’t do this” Jack said, shaking him slightly, “please wake up, please.”

He let out a scream and broke down, as sirens wailed and the sound of running feet approached.

you killed me okay??? you broke my heart okay????? im crying okay???? is that what you wanted anon????

[occult-roommates]

Back in town

That day was supposed to be the second anniversary of Dawud moving to San Myshuno. Fitting, instead he just...ended up moving back there. Once out of the airport, he came across a familiar face, Rudi. They were so surprised, but also relieved, to see their friend again after such a long time. Honestly, they had assumed he died or something, considering how unreachable he had made himself in the last year, especially by modern day standard.

Rudi: DAV! You’re alive! Dawud: Unfortunately. Rudi: Everyone was worried about your wereabouts. Like straight up Daniele thought you were going through a manic episode of some sort cause it didn’t really felt like you and then you just...disappeared.  Dawud: I know. I’m sorry for what happened. I still feel deeply guilty over what I said and I just felt like nothing I could say would be good enough of an apology considering how awful what I said was. So I thought cutting contact and never seeing you guys ever again was the best solution. I know it’s stupid, but I’m known to run away when I don’t know how to handle difficult situation. Rudi: Well, whatever dude, I’m just glad to see you again after so long. Dawud: I’m surprised you still cared about me after what I said. Rudi: I mean, I once got the living shit beaten out of me just for being a werewolf when I was only 14, I don’t really care if one guy say something shitty about spellcasters once. Dawud: ...Well, if you say I’m worth forgiving, I’ll take it, but I’m not sure if I follow your logic...

Actually, Dawud had currently nowhere to live, he rented a hotel room for a few days, but after that he’s not sure what he’ll do. And since it was the middle of the night, he didn’t had access to the room yet.

Rudi: Why don’t you just move back with us? Especially since the landbitch raised the rent again. Dawud: Well technically I don’t really have a job, I’m just in training to become a mechanic and I don’t know when I’ll have one again. Rudi: And how are you planning to survive without a job? Dude, you’re so confusing you want to apologize to us and make sure we’ve forgiven you but you refuse to see us ever again like...Even if yes, what you said was awful and shitty and terrible, how are you suppose to improve as a person if you can’t move past that? Dawud: Being a bit philosophical tonight. Rudi: Yeah I smoked a shit ton of weed before my flight in order to calm myself down. Dawud: How did you do that without getting cau- actually don’t answer that...Also where were you beforehand? Rudi: Puerto Rico, it was my mom’s birthday so I spent the week there.

While walking out of the airport and into the city, Rudi talked about their week in Puerto Rico. Eventually, the two of them reached a nearby park. Being a night, it was oddly devoid of people.

Rudi: Damn, there’s no snow in this part of town while it was snowing near the airport. Climate change is crazyyyy. Dawud: Is that a violin you got with you? Rudi: Yeah, a lot has changed in a year you know. Akva went back to school, Kino got a new girlfriend and is now expecting a baby, I started learning the violin. Lots of stuff. Dawud: KINO IS NO LONGER WITH TONI?? Damn, love really is not real... Rudi: Ok but who cares. Anyway I’m gonna play some violin you ready? Dawud: AND THEY’RE HAVING A BABY??? WHAT???

Rudi did not care about that, they wanted to show their violin skills. And so they played old German folk song to Dawud.

Dawud: You are good, but why the violin? I thought you wanted to start a punk band. Rudi: Well first of all, I’m a bad bitch I can make this work. Second of all, this is because you see, my dad always wanted to be a violinist, but his parents always told him it was a waste of time and he gave up on it. Eventually he lost his job as a pilot so he decided to pick up the violin again. Sadly, you know, he died shortly after... Dawud: Didn’t you told me he died in a plane crash? Rudi: Well, I said he died in a plane crash, I never said he was the one flying the plane.

The song being over, they both laid down, looking at the sky. You know, the thing that changed Dawud’s life forever not once but twice.

Rudi: You know, that will sound insane, but I...sometime I feel like my dad is not actually dead. This is why I came to San Myshuno originally. Yeah, I have some cousin on my step-father’s side who live there, but my main motivation is...I don’t know. My werewolf senses are telling me my dad is still alive somewhere in this city. Dawud: You are right, it does sound insane. Rudi: Cause you see, I used to be such a daddy’s boy and his death messed with me so much, but I’ve also changed a lot since he died and well, I wish he could see who I am now. Like, for starter, I’m not even a boy anymore. Dawud: You used to be a boy? Rudi: Well I mean, I was obviously not born nonbinary. Dawud: Yeah but I mean like...Well...I thought that...Ah and never mind, it’s none of my business really. But you used to be called Luna didn’t you? Rudi: You see, I actually was born with some like, hormonal issues, so I never hit puberty naturally, but whenever I was offered to try to induce it I refuse. Eventually, at 16, shortly after my dad died actually, I snapped and admitted I didn’t want to turn into a man and would rather be a woman. So yeah, I just never underwent male puberty. Then after moving to Puerto Rico I gained a fuckton of weight and this is how I ended up a thicc bitch with big titties. Dawud: Cool, but what about the Luna thing? Rudi: Well, that was my girl name. After Luna I became Rudi, got it legally changed last August actually. Don’t ask me my boy name though. That’s private information.

After a very long silence, Rudi decided to cut it the...most powerful way.

Rudi: Wanna suck my dick?

Sure, at first Dawud was taken aback a little bit...Well, even more than a little bit. But yeeaaah, he’s always wanted to do that, not to Rudi specifically, but you know, and who is he to refuse such a nice offer? Rudi is aroace anyway, and he knows this, this won’t mean anything the following morning.

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