#god. i never thought i deserved this enough to get it.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Catalyst

so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.

swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the ship—she doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.

what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.

anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).

meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.

it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.

they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close one—could you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."

anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

There you are

this is part two to what was i made for! please beware that this once again contains topics on mental health depression and postpartum depression and anxiety if you are not comfortable with those topics please don’t read any further. please know that mental health is a serious issue please get the help you deserve. as always let me know how this was :)

Lando knew he was wrong for screaming at you the moment he saw your eyes well up.

He regretted ever raising his voice. It wasn’t that he was trying to belittle you as a mother—God no! He would rather hurt himself than ever make you feel that way.

It was just that you looked like you were at your absolute wit's end, and poor little Charlotte was starting to turn red from all the tiny screams she was letting out. In a hasty decision, he snatched her away from you and rushed to give her a bottle, not realizing this would be your last straw.

You had made the mistake of going online after giving birth, only to face relentless criticism. They picked on everything, from your weight to your looks to how you held your own daughter. The cruelty felt endless. As if the criticism wasn’t enough, Ralph Lauren had chosen your husband as part of their campaign, thrusting him into the spotlight. Maybe it was the hormones or the lack of recognition for all you had gone through, but seeing all the women—especially his ex, maugi liking and commenting about him made you feel like he’d be better off with anyone else but you.

Each day became more challenging. Lando was too preoccupied with his mini-me to notice how the light was missing from your eyes or the constant discomfort you felt due to the soreness from breastfeeding issues.

You had even mentioned needing to see a doctor, only to be brushed aside. You felt lost, with no way out. Lando was a wonderful father no one could deny that but he was a poor husband, and he would eventually pay a high price for it.

A couple of hours after the screaming incident, Lando announced he would be home late, as he planned to go clubbing with Max and some friends. He didn’t look up from his phone to notice how exhausted and glassy-eyed you were. After kissing his daughter goodnight, he left, not even sparing a glance at the woman he claimed to love.

This was your chance. Charlotte was finally down after much fuss, and with Lando out, you felt this was the opportunity to end what you considered your burdened existence.

A friend had noticed your low spirits and lent you some of her depression pills, hoping they'd help you sleep. But you had something else in mind. You had made up your mind and even wrote a little note for Charlotte, telling her how much you loved her and that you would see her in heaven someday.

You wanted her to grow up kind and never to do what you were about to do. Your heart broke with each word, but you didn’t bother writing a note for your husband, assuming he’d be relieved to be rid of you.

With a heavy heart, you walked to Charlotte's cot, kissing her goodbye for the last time, taking in her perfect features and innocence. This was the last time you would see your daughter, and you felt at peace with that.

You took heavy steps to the guest bathroom, knowing Lando wouldn’t enter this room when he returned. It was the only room in the house that didn’t receive attention, perhaps why you chose it as your final place.

You set the bathtub to a scorching temperature, sat down with a bottle of pills in your hand, and said a final prayer, ready for the pain and exhaustion to end. Just thirty pills would set you free. With each pill, your heart emptied of hurt and suffering, your eyes shed their final tears, and your mind quieted. At last, everything went blank, and you were finally at ease.

Lando always prided himself on knowing when something was wrong with you, like a sixth sense. He never thought he’d feel that way in the middle of a nightclub, but the moment he got the feeling, he knew it was serious. His stomach was heavy with anxiety, his mind ablaze with thoughts. He had Max drive him home, and thank God he did. The moment he entered the house, he noticed the unsettling quiet. It was too quiet. You and he might not have been in a good place, but he expected to hear something a TV on or you talking to his mom.

Lando went up to check on Charlotte, wanting to ensure she wasn’t the reason for his worry. His little angel was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the chaos that was about to unfold. Lando nearly missed the small piece of paper near her cot, thinking it was trash, but as he picked it up, he felt his heart stop.

It was your note, a suicide letter. Each word filled him with a sense of horror and urgency he had never felt before. He never thought he’d be reading his wife’s final words.

Every step he took was rushed and panicked as he searched for you, desperate to find you alive. All he felt was regret—regret for not knowing, for not being there, for not asking. Lando eventually found you, cold but, to his relief, alive, lying in the guest bathroom.

The next 48 hours were hell for him, watching you still and silent in the ICU after having your stomach pumped. He finally understood the severity of postpartum depression. The doctor had a serious talk with Lando, deeply concerned about your mental state.

Determined to support your recovery, Lando did everything he could to make you feel better. Your road to recovery wasn’t easy; it was long and hard.

But with Lando by your side, things began to improve. He started each day with something positive to say about you and your relationship. He helped with Charlotte and showed incredible kindness when you were at your lowest. He also set boundaries with the media and fans to protect your privacy.

Day by day, you felt better and more confident. The best part was finally getting the help you had been desperately needing. You realized your fears were not reality, and with Lando’s love, you could overcome them.

Open communication became the cornerstone of your relationship.

Lando learned from his mistakes, and your daughter couldn’t get enough of you.

The negative voices in your head finally faded. You were back to being you.

With a husband who had truly woken up and was committed to never letting you feel that lost again.

tagged -:@sweate-r-weathe-r @annisassintchaska @fellowwomenlover

[msunitedstatesjames]

I just played the House of the Dead quest in Veilguard, and it might be my favorite quest in the game so far.

Everything about this quest was great.

The mood was perfect and distinct from other questlines. It was spooky, and gothic, and mysterious, and it was emotionally resonant too with Emmrich's obvious distress over the torment of the spirits. The envionment was such a classic haunted house, which some people might find overused, but I love a haunted house tale.

It was also one of the more substantial companion quests so far in the game. I love all the short and sweet quests we've had so far, but this one took over an hour to complete, had a number of challenging combat situations, had romance options if you're interested in romancing Emmrich, had an engaging mystery, and continued to build on the interesting lore behind the Mourn Watch. It also took you back into the Fade proper, a classic of Dragon Age, and I thought there were lots of entertaining and interesting companion comments/banter on top of it all.

If all that wasn't enough, it does what all the best companion quests in rpgs do, which is to get at the nature of what makes this character tick. I think Emmrich really shines every time you take him out, but this quest really helps to flesh his character out. If his compassion wasn't obvious enough by now, his desperation to find and help the trapped spirits makes that clear. I also just love when the worst thing he can manage to say about the "rogue necromancer" is that he'll have some stern words when you find them.

And then there's Hezenkoss. First of all, she immediately sets herself apart as a memorable villain. I can't even seem to remember the names of the gods we're supposed to be fighting, but this chick gets five minutes of screentime and her name is seared into my memory. She's got that classic, supervillain aura that I kind of miss from movies and tv when I was a kid. She has a very distinct look with her mad scientist glasses, her shining eyes, and her bizarrely cringey hand gestures/dance moves. I was grinning ear to ear the moment she came on screen.

On top of that, she's such a great foil to Emmrich. They come from the same background, they were friends, they even have some of the same desires, namely a desire not to join the dead. But while she chose to use the spirits to her advantage, regardless of the consequences, Emmrich has chosen to be kind, and to live with his natural fears, and to be a teacher. Although I have a feeling that will all be tested a little later on.

A little bit of a side note here, but I love what The Veilguard is doing for Necromancers. I've never once cared about Necromancers before. (Well, maybe once.) They are always portrayed as gloomy and sort of dully evil. Between Emmrich's kind and gentle demeanor and Hezenkoss's whackiness, I'm intrigued.

Anyway, all that to say whoever wrote this quest deserves a raise.

Edit: I almost forgot the hilarious moment you can get where Hezenkoss assumes Emmrich is the main character and calls Rook one of Emmrich's "hangers-on." And then when the battle starts Rook is so offended they feel the need to remind eveyone that they're not a hanger on.

[planetpedri]

hey diva… just give me anything with torres and lowkey… make it ansgty

Better than this — Fernando Torres.

Pairing: Fernando Torres x Fem!Reader

Summary: All he wanted was you, but you were certain he could find someone to treat him better than you ever could.

Word count: 740+

Disclaimer/s: angst , arguing , hopeful ending

A/N: I hope this made you happy beautiful, @ar4ujos ^_^ I luh you.

Knocking and knocking and knocking. “Baby open the door.” Fernando pleads, his head resting against the wooden frame. You’d locked yourself in your bedroom after he’d.. oh God. Even thinking about it made you nauseous.

He had, in simple terms, confessed his very real feelings for you. At first, when he’d started hanging out with you more, taking you out on ‘dates’—not that you’d let him call them that, it was fine. It wasn’t serious or anything, just the both of you having fun.

“Fer, go away.” You groan, head tipping back against the bed frame. You sat on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom, trying to collect your thoughts. He deserved better than you! Why wouldn’t he just go away?

“I’m not..” His voice grows quiet. “Listen, I know it scares you, I know you don’t like relationships, but please. I want—I need you.”

You wanted to believe that, you did. But your brain was practically screaming ‘danger! Danger! Danger!’ He didn’t deserve to be locked in a relationship with a girlfriend who would constantly overthink. You had too much baggage and the blonde did not deserve that.

“Baby, open the fucking door.” He says through gritted teeth. “Please, if you’re going to break it off, I need to you say it to my face.”

Reluctantly, and against everything your brain was telling you to do, you stand up and shuffle toward the door. You unlock it, opening it just enough to poke your head through. Then you see his face, that beautiful.. no.

Blinking slowly, you chew on your cheek. “Okay. I—“ You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t tell him to go.

“You…?”

“I, uhm.. Can you not look me in the eye when I say this?” You huff, eyes diverting to his shaggy blonde hair. Lord, his hair. Memories of your fingers threading through the blonde locks flooded your mind. You did not want to break anything off, but you had to.

“No.” He stays firm, shaking his head. “And, open the door all the way. If you really didn’t want this, you’d be able to say it to my face.”

“I am?” You scowl at his hair. “You make my life so difficult.”

Fernando nods. “I’m sure I do.”

“And you are insufferable, and very, very! Annoying. You also—“ Your brain short circuits. Why was he looking at your lips? “Stop that. Now. I’m trying to get you out of my life.”

“Are you really? You’re not trying very hard.”

Oh.

Your face flattens. “You’re proving all the points i’ve been making.” You point out, which unfortunately had a smug look forming on Fernando’s freckled face. “I want you to—“

You couldn’t speak. You almost said something wrong, something the complete opposite of what you’d been trying to say.

His eyebrows raise, beckoning for you to continue. When you don’t, his previous grin falters. He says your name quietly, concern etched into every syllable.

“Sorry, I, uhm,” you shake your head. Get a grip! You could give in, or slam the door in his face again, but you don’t. Instead, you scratch the side of your head. “Okay, clearly I don’t know what I’m trying to say. But, Fer, you don’t deserve this—me. You should be with someone who can provide for you exactly what you need.”

“But you are what I need.” He furrows his eyebrows, his head rolling to the side. “Why can’t you just give this—us.. a chance?”

You had never been so irritated and appalled by someone in your life. And you were thankful. Because his words only made you want to believe him, despite the part of you that couldn’t. The fact of the matter was, he was giving you hope, and hope is dangerous. But what is life if not decades of risks?

“One date. One real date. Then, I will think on it.” You finally give in, rolling your eyes at the way his face lit up.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me regret this.” You point at his chest, your pointer finger digging into it. Fernando smiles, his hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling it away, but still keeping a hold on it.

Fernando beams at you, “I promise you won’t.” A short pause, “does this mean I have to leave?”

You think for a moment before taking a step back into your bedroom, dragging him with you. “I suppose not.”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @joaosfelix @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit - A Mouthwashing AU

I fully blame @hrhowling for infecting me with these brain worms, and @an-artist-complex for encouraging them.

So....

Here we go.

There is an intention to make this the first part of a series, but in case that doesn't happen, I at least wanted to make this first part stand alone.

Enjoy~

Word Cout: 2,100

Content Warning: Jimmy is his own content warning.

Curly had decided he hated the sun set.  At least the sunset that seemed to be the only thing displayed in the Med Bay window screen.  He hated every aspect of it.

He hated the way the reds and oranges were too bright, painfully so, constantly bathing his body in its burning light.  He hated the way it flickered and tore, as if a company like Pony Express couldn’t have afforded to spring for a screen that actually worked.

Or, in light of recent news, maybe they really couldn’t after all.

He hated how it buzzed and crackled, never offering him a single moment of silence as he sat here.

He hated it so very much.

Yet he poured every ounce of energy he had into looking at it.  Studied every pixel, every strange artifact of light.

Because what was the alternative?

The alternative was acknowledging the agony he was in, every moment, every breath, every slight shift in his body.  The alternative was to stare into the metal ceilings of the Tulpar and worry about each and every seam.  The alternative was to wiggle his limbs, and see if today was the day he had the strength and pain tolerance to sit up.

He deserved this.  He knew he deserved it.  It had become part of his regular cycle of thoughts, right alongside wishing for death, or praying that this is just some horrific dream he’d wake up from any day now.

But the longer he stared at that god damn sunset, the more he had to come to grips with reality.  And every second of that reality was earned and deserved.

He often thought back to where he went wrong. And there was a lot of time to think.

He thought about telling... Him it would all be okay. How he listened to Him talk about how there was no survivors despite the efforts of the brave Captain Curly. Curly had been so confused about what He meant at the time. He could've seen the warning it was. The threat it was. Why didn't he go to the cockpit with Him?

He thought about Her, desperately hiding the gun so that even if she couldn't reach it, He wouldn't either. When she told him she was pregnant, told him a second time what happened. Curly had been so worried about Her hurting herself that he didn't even stop to think about how he was hurting her.

He thought about that late night conversation with Her. About the dead pixel on the screen in the Lounge. He had told her how he looked at the bigger picture. How true that was. Standing too far back to acknowledge the details, the important details. Why were there no locks on the sleeping quarter's door, but they needed a code just to get some fucking sweetener?

Anya...

Maybe that's why he stared so heavily at the sunset to his left. Maybe he was looking for a dead pixel of his own. Just something that could connect him to Anya. Something that could tell her that he Understood.

He stared at the sunset because what was the alternative?

The alternative was to look at the other side of the room.

Curly didn't get many visitors. He didn't blame them. Swansea wasn't paid nearly enough to look at his traitorous captain, and Daisuke was just a kid, one who didn't need an anatomy lesson.

No, Curly didn't get visitors. Only one of two people would ever be on that side of the room. And he couldn't dare look either of them in the eye.

He decided to try and sit up today. He hadn't tried in... Jesus, how long has it been? How long has he been sitting like this?

Regardless, he had tried a few times before. He was sick of sitting in his own filth. Festering in his own blood and pus. His body protested his every movement as he tried to prop himself up on the stumps where his hands once were.

I hope this hurts.

It did...

I hope this hurts.

It so very did. He couldn't do it.

He heard the heavy doors slide open, metal grinding against metal. He didn't look. He couldn't.

Please no...

"Feeling lively today, aren't we?"

Curly still couldn't look at Him. He knew what was coming.

"Hey. If you're awake enough to squirm, you're awake enough to look at me."

He still didn't move.

"I said Look at me."

Curly felt hands on his head, forcefully turned to face Him.

A face of a friend. Or, what was once a friend. Or, maybe not even that. Whatever he was then, it didn't change what he was now. A truth Curly tried to ignore, one that he was forced to stare at every day.

Jimmy was a monster.

"...You still think you're too good for us, don't you?"

Curly stared at Jimmy. Before, Jimmy would say things he thought unnerving, but ultimately harmless. He had made dark jokes before, things Curly would laugh at uncomfortably, and they'd move on. He'd say things that were needlessly defensive or aggressive, things Curly would try to talk him down from, with mixed results, and they'd move on.

Curly couldn't do either of those things now. Even if he could speak, he couldn't speak over the look in Jimmy's eyes. Was that emptiness always there?

Jimmy grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown, pulling a wheezing gasp from his mangled throat.

"You think you're too good for us. For this job. Even when we're keeping you alive and cleaning up your blood and shit, you still think you're too good for us."

Jimmy made a sound, one that might've been a laugh or a scoff.

"Well. So much for your greener pastures."

Jimmy dropped him back onto the bed with a rough thud, sending shocks of pain up and down his back and head.

Curly watched as Jimmy casually, oh so casually, walked towards the desk scattered with pills. The former captain couldn't look at his despised sunset anymore. Not when he knew what was coming.

"At least you have these to make you feel better. Open up."

I hope this hurts.

It does.

I hope this hurts.

Jimmy is far from gentle in opening his mouth, shoving fingers against his tongue and down his throat. Curly chokes, he does every time. He had thought he at least would stop struggling from reflex, but his body fails him again.

He flailed his arms against Jimmy's shoulders and face as his mouth is wrenched further open and the pill is dropped in.

"Stop fucking moving."

Curly wheezed as Jimmy lifted his head up by his jaw and slammed him back down. Small mercies it's only against a pillow.

Jimmy used his fingers to shove the pill down his throat, either not knowing or not caring that he can't breathe.

It's over before Curly knows it, trying his best to gather his breath back as Jimmy's fingers retract. The two pilots look at each other, a pair of empty eyes meeting a lone trembling one.

"I'm fixing things. Stop looking at me like that."

Curly flinched, but it doesn't make the incoming punch any softer. Or the next two or three.

"You're not better than me, Curly. I'm the fucking captain now. And that means-"

"Jimmy?"

Curly's breath paused, his eye flicking back to the door. Anya stood there, compressed in her body language.

"What?"

"U-Uhm, Swansea wanted to see you? Something about a problem in the Lounge?"

"Unbelievable. Can't you guys do anything without me?"

"If it's not a good time-"

"No, no, I'll go take a look. Do my job. Someone has to around here, right?"

Curly watched carefully as Anya steeled her expression. She moved out of the doorway, no longer meeting Jimmy's gaze.

"Right... I'll take over from here."

"About time."

And with that, he's gone. Curly was aware how loud his breathing is. For once, even the buzzing of the window screen seemed quiet, drowned out in comparison to his labored breaths.

Anya moved to sit next to him. Just as she always does. She's always quiet, occasionally filling him in on the goings on of the ship. Told him about their precious Cargo.

Fucking Mouthwash.

What a joke.

Today, she's silent. Mostly just staring at the pain medications on the table across from her.

He wished he could say something to her. He wished he had his own dead pixel to point out to here. One hidden right under her nose, right here in Med Bay. Then she'd smile, maybe laugh a little bit about it, like she would've before-

Take responsibility

"How are you today, cap- Curly?"

Curly looked at her. Anya. Sweet Anya...

The best he could giver her was a shrug, even as it pulled painfully on his neck and shoulders.

"Quiet day today... We ran out of Chicken Noodle Soup. Looks like it'll be clear soup for now."

Take responsibility

Anya looked at him. Her eyes were empty to, but not like Jimmy's. Hers were drained.

"...Are you okay, Curly? I um... I heard Jimmy."

He didn't know what to think about that. She's asking him if he's okay? He doesn't drop his gaze, as much as he wants to. She deserves better.

And isn't that just the thing?

Anya deserves better. She always had. She should be in medical school, not drifting in a floating cage in who knows what section of the void of space. She should have had a better captain. A better crew. Someone who could-

Take responsibility

"Now you know how it feels."

Her voice cuts through him, her words akin to dumping ice water onto his chest. Her face said she regrets saying it the second it left her mouth.

But it took all the air out from Curly's lungs.

"I-I'm sorry, that was cruel..."

No, Anya, I deserved that.

"You know something silly?"

Curly tilted his head at her. She had his attention. Undivided. Even when it didn't mean much anymore.

"...I can't bring myself to hate you. Even though you got us into this mess. Even though you didn't do anything. I can't hate you."

You should. I should've said something. Done something.

"A part of me wants to. Would make things easier. Wouldn't fix anything, but it'd make things easier. I don't know how much I can keep going, Captain."

Curly's breath hitched, his eye flicking between her and the pill bottle.

He groaned, gurgled, tried to force his useless throat to make words. He knows she'd probably want to hear from him the least but... well, she should hear from someone.

"Don't try to strain yourself, Captain. Just... try to go to sleep. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."

No, you shouldn't be sorry, this isn't your fault, I-

The door slid open one more time, and the both of them flinched. Neither of them looked at the door. They looked at each other instead. Dreading the same phantom opening his mouth and making some remark-

"We need to talk."

Swansea...

Curly looked at the round man, a grim expression on his face.

"Swansea, I just got back here, I can't leave him alone like that. He just had his pill, he could vomit, and I need to be there to adjust him if he does."

"It won't be long. But we need to talk."

"About...?"

"Something that needs to be done. Privately."

Swansea cast a dark look at Curly, a withering one. The mechanic and captain rarely saw eye to eye, especially during those last few days before the crash. He had never visited him in the Med Bay. Not that he blamed him.

"Is it a team meeting again? Is Daisuke and-"

"Daisuke has Jim distracted for a bit. This isn't a team meeting. This is a you and me meeting. Meet me in Utility, if you want."

Anya looked between him and Curly. "I really should keep an eye on him."

"You can do whatever you want. But I have a plan. You can either be in or out of it. Just figured you might want in."

Anya wrung her hands together, looking at the sunset.

"...You'll be alright, captain?"

Curly nods. He can at least give her that much. She doesn't have to care for him, not right now. She looks hesitant. He tries to nod a little harder, but the wheeze that escapes him betrayed his efforts.

"Whenever you're ready, Anya."

"...I am."

The two turn to leave. Curly groans, trying to get his voice to wrap around the words he wants. Words he should've said a long time ago. Words he doesn't think he'll ever be able to say.

Take responsibility

I'm sorry.

[lasandra]

Super Massive End Game Veilguard Spoilers Under the Cut!

Seriously. If you haven't finished playing Veilguard, DO. NOT. READ. So I finished DA:tV and I have been really trying to sort out my thoughts... And well...

Sdlkajshdfklajhsdfklajhsdflkjahsdklfjhaskldfjhaskldfhj I CAN'T!!! My dudes I am SO conflicted!!! Solas is the only character I have ever come across that I both love to pieces and want the best for him but I also want to beat him until he is a puddle of bruised yolk and cracked shells. This dude KILLED VARRIC FOR REALSIES! I am not okay with that. My Hawke's GOING to hunt him down when she finds out. If the Tevinter Magisters can get into the Black City then dammit so can she. And when she does, I am not sure even Lavellan can save him. Amelia (My Hawke) has lost so many of her friends/family/loved ones she can't handle this anymore. He also killed God's gift to elves Felassan. It's been over a decade since I read The Masked Empire but I don't remember there being a great reason other than him being upset that Felassan failed. Dude has GOT to stop killing his friends lol. Especially the hot ones. Like. Come on. As if that wasn't enough, he manipulated Rook. I love my first Rook (Carwyn de Riva) so much that I am STRUGGLING to play another playthrough with any of the other Rooks I had planned. To see that he manipulated her with blood magic... Stopped her from being able to mourn Varric with the others properly.... AND tricked her into that prison??? He didn't think she'd be able to get out. Luckily she had plot armor because if she hadn't gotten out I would find a way into Thedas to rip him apart myself. *Aggressive breathing noises* I feel very normal about this, obviously. Seriously though, guys, I came THIIIIIIIS close to tricking him with the fake dagger even knowing that Lanaya (my Lavellan) wouldn't have gotten her happy ending. JUST so I could see the LOOK on his face when he realized ROOK outplayed him at his own game! At the SAME time however... The idea of sending him into the Black City alone... hurts me lol! I don't want him to suffer. Dude has suffered a lot and honestly, I'm not entirely sure his being a friend-murdering ass is *entirely his fault... The longer I sit with everything, the more certain I am that Solas didn't really have a choice. Seems very much like he was sort of bound to the will of Mythal. Maybe I've missed something, I'm not as lore-savvy as I once was. But in the end when Mythal tells Solas that she releases him from her service and only THEN (NOT when Lavellan BEGS him to stop) is he willing to do the right thing? I don't know. It just reminded me SO much of his personal quest in Inquisition where his Wisdom Spirit friend had been bound and twisted against its purpose. If it works anything like what we saw in Inquisition with whoever drank from the Well of Sorrows, who's to say when something was him vs the will of Mythal? It could be a bit of a stretch but, there's certainly room for that interpretation, I think. And if that's the case, then he doesn't deserve the hell that awaits him. It's also the only interpretation I can really accept Lanaya still wanting to be with him. Varric was her friend too. While forgiveness is something I give freely, I cannot imagine reconciling with a man who did what Solas did without him having been essentially forced into doing it. *Sighs deeply* I saw the different versions of his endgame images... Shit man. The only way this man gets a happy ending is with Lavellan. Dude looks so miserable and gloomy in all the other endings. Moire (Trevelyan) was Solas' friend. She wouldn't want to send him off to be alone in such a terrible place. That would seriously eat at her. (Rook wouldn't care. Her give a damn was busted after he betrayed her for the twenty-billionth time.) It can never be anything but a complete and utter rollercoaster with this man! I do think that the ending I got with him was as good as it possibly could have been though, given everything. Sorry for this really poorly written rant. I needed to get this out of my system and it's almost 3am lol.

[fauxspirited]

i am absolutely in love with this man and i want everyone i love and cherish to meet him and also love him because he’s just so good. i’ve gotten every single thing i’ve ever wanted in a relationship in the past 6 months, and i was never asking for a lot.

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.

[deoidesign]

vampire and werewolf sitting in a tree

time trav e l i n g

first comes. trying to kill eachother then comes... learning you're his dead ex-lover then comes marriage!

(you can buy the book this scene is from for $15 it's really good. it's the fan favorite of the series!)

[ozonecologne]

.

[here-there-were-dragons]

i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that

[yaoifortresstwo]

breakups are so fucking weird. three years and just like that it's gone. huh

[radgeorgie]

i love being drunk :)

[genspiel]

.....................well now i'm just thinking about how echo and noise could've provided a really interesting exploration of mental illness and trauma and stigmatization but canon kinda missed the mark on that one huh

[mainfaggot]

i won second place in a spanish lit contest yayy there's a cash prize yayy

[hiddenbeks]

u ever just. think abt ur warden and the decisions u made in dao and realize they would not make some of the decisions you made. and then u have to replay the game all over again just to do that one (1) thing differently