#he’s just very vocal about his feelings about it

[keikikait]

ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.4k

summary: rafe gives you an ultimatum, and in the setting sun, you see another

warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, kook!reader & kook!rafe, suggestive but no outright smut, ultimatums, jj is alive, arguing, not proofread

a note: i'm sorry this is late!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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Were you being punished by your love for him?

You tried to move on, you really did. You tried everything you could think of, bar from ignoring Rafe all together. You had even joined a dating app, where you met a fellow Kook named Alexander, and you went on a few dates with him. He was a great guy, handsome, smart, and charming, but he wasn’t Rafe. Alexander didn’t draw your attention away from your best friend that you were hopelessly still in love with, even after trying to gaslight yourself into believing that you had a crush on him.

You kept Alexander around for a while. He was a fun guy, he paid for your little lunch or coffee shop dates, and he was a good fuck. You had lied and told him that you just weren’t a very vocal girl in bed, but in reality you were biting your tongue to keep from moaning Rafe’s name into his ear. It had been a few weeks, and even after everything, Rafe was still the only person you thought of when you slipped your hands under your panties at night. You eventually started to feel bad about leading him on and tried to break things off amicably. He didn’t take it well, but you didn’t expect him to.

You had tried to distract yourself, going to party after party and club after club, making out with whatever guy you could get your hands on. But nothing worked. You couldn’t stop thinking about your Kook prince, the most feared man on Kildare that had a soft spot in his heart for you. 

You had almost hoped that Rafe would’ve ditched you, would’ve kicked you to the side like a dog. At least it would be easier to move on that way, and you wouldn’t be stuck under his thumb, thinking about the ways you could get out of the hold he has on you. He still wanted to see you and be around you, constantly calling and texting like it was normal, like you hadn’t professed your undying love to him only three weeks ago. You felt like a two-headed monster. One head was his best friend, one head was deeply in love with him.

You know he’s fine, but what about you? What do you do?

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Even after everything, you still have to show up for your Friday night tradition; sitting on Rafe’s sofa, tucked under his arm, watching a shitty 80s zombie movies while eating a Costco pizza. You shouldn’t have agreed, knowing it would only make things harder, but you would do anything for him. Your poor heart would always surrender to him.

Maybe this time he would start falling for you, too.

You pull into the driveway of his new house, grabbing the pizza from the backseat before heading up to the front door, balancing the giant box with one hand as you knock.

The door swings open a second later, with Rafe standing in the doorway, grinning at the sight of the pizza box in your hands. He steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. “You’ve arrived with the goods, I see.”

You swallow hard. He looks so fucking good, wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of dark green sweatpants. You hug him with one arm, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling deep. Your eyebrows furrow slightly and your free hand clenches around your keys. He smells different. Sweeter. Almost like candy.

Sofia must’ve been here earlier.

You pull away, carrying the pizza box into his living room. “Yup. I got you extra cheese, too.”

He follows behind you, shutting the door behind the two of you. His arm wraps around your shoulder when you reach the sofa, pulling you in tight to his side. “Extra cheese for my girl.” he teases, taking the box from you to set on the coffee table. You’re on the edge while he’s so goddamn polite and composed.

You tense up slightly as you settle into his sofa, grabbing the remote. You turn the TV on, trying to distract yourself from the empty feeling building up inside of you and gnawing at your guts. “Which movie are we watching tonight?”

“Mm…” He stretches out on the sofa, his legs tangling with yours as he looks over your shoulder at the TV. His body is pressed up against yours, and as usual, his proximity starts to stir up feelings deep inside of you. Feelings you thought you had managed to repress. “How about Romero?”

Your eyebrows furrow again. This man was going to give you wrinkles. “I thought we were watching zombie movies. Not ones about a Salvadoran archbishop.”

“No, not Romero like the actual archbishop, I mean like--” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “The man who invented the zombie film genre, dumbass. Do you need me to find a new best friend or something? Because you’re starting to get a little too idiotic for me.”

What the fuck? “Excuse me?”

He snorts, watching you get defensive. “Come on, it was a joke,” he says, nudging you with his knee. “Lighten up, I’m just teasing.”

“It wasn’t funny.” You say.

It’s then that he notices the way your shoulders are tense. Your jaw is clenched, and your eyes focus on the screen in front of the two of you with a bit too much intent. You’re upset. He can feel the agitation radiating off of you, and he hates it. He’s too used to his best friend being comfortable with him, happy around him. He lets out a breath, sitting up straight. “Don’t be like that,” he mutters. “Relax.”

“You don’t get to call me a dumbass, Rafe.” You say, your tone sharp.

Rafe stares at you, his irritation rising bit by bit. He takes in your expression, your sharp tone, the agitation that was practically coming off of you in waves. This was new territory for him. You weren’t just being cold, you were pissed. He’d never seen you this pissed at him. He didn’t like it.

He wanted the old you back, the you he thought you were. His best friend, his confidant, not the girl who’s helplessly in love with him, not the girl who lies awake all night thinking about him. Not the girl who moans his name into her pillow as she cums, hoping one day he would fall in love with her, too. He wanted you to just move on, to give up, to completely wipe your romantic feelings for him clean. He wanted more, while leaving you with less.

“You didn't use to care about this shit,” He says. “Not until you decided you were in love with me or whatever.”

“Decided?” You ask, scoffing. “It isn’t something you just wake up and decide.”

Rafe stares at you, his gaze hard, almost like he’s trying to search for the words that he wants to say. He was never good at this, talking about his feelings. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I… I don’t know.” He mutters, staring down at the floor. “I just wish things were the way they used to be, okay? I didn’t ask for all this bullshit. I never asked you to feel this way, so why are you making things so difficult?”

“I didn’t ask for this either.” You say.

“Well, you’re the one whose in love.” He says, the words almost bitter on his tongue. “You’re the one who made things difficult. I didn’t ask you to feel this way. I didn’t tell you to go and fall in love with me. So why are you getting pissed because I’m not in love with you too?”

“I’m not pissed, Rafe,” You say, although deep down you truly are. “I knew from the very beginning that I had no chance with you. I wouldn’t love me, either.”

He falls silent, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that wasn’t true. He knows that you’re beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and funny. He knew that you should have every chance with him. But he just didn’t love you that way. “How many times do we have to go over this?” He asks, his voice soft. “I’ve never loved you like that. You’re my best friend, you know that.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” You say bitterly.

He grits his jaw, frustrated now. He hated how bitter you were when it came to this. He hated that you expected him to be in love with you back when he just didn’t see you that way. He hated that he had to keep explaining this over and over again to you, and he hated the fact that you were just sitting here, pouting like a toddler. Like a girl who was in love.

He was tired of being the bad guy in this. “Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”

“I wish I never did.” You say.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say. He just turns to look at the movie, his jaw clenched. He hated that you said that. He hated that you wished you’d never fallen for him. He didn’t want you to wish that. If you didn’t fall for him, how long would it be before you fell for someone else? Someone who wasn’t him? He didn’t want the thought of you with another guy to piss him off so much.

Rafe sighs. “Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here.”

“Do you want me to pretend you’re a good guy?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I am the good guy,” He snaps, his eyes narrowing. What the hell? He knew he wasn’t an angel by any means, but he was a good guy. He took care of his family, protected his friends, and stayed loyal to his girlfriend. “You’re the one who fell in love with me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

You sigh, looking away. This was pointless, even more pointless than the daydreams you filled your mind with when you couldn’t sleep. “Whatever.”

He looks at you for a moment, jaw clenched, his body tense.

“You know, this whole self-pitying, 'woe is me, Rafe is the bad guy' bullshit is starting to piss me off. It’s getting annoying.” He says.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Rafe.” You say.

“Stop acting as if I’ve done something wrong. Like I’ve wronged you,” He says, exasperated. He can’t understand why you’re being like this, and it’s pissing him off even more. “I don’t like you that way. I’ve never liked you that way. Why is that such a hard concept for you to accept?”

“It isn’t,” You say, your voice starting to get thick with emotion. “I know you don’t like me, I know you aren’t attracted to me, I just… it’s just so hard for me to move on, and I don’t know why.”

Rafe is silent for a moment, watching as your face starts to crumble. He can’t help but sigh. He moves closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. Normally, it was the opposite. Normally it was you comforting him, not him trying to comfort you. “It’ll pass. You’ll get over it eventually.”

It’ll pass.

It’ll pass.

It will never pass, will it?

You sniffle, one hand reaching up to wipe the corners of your eyes. “I should go.”

He catches your wrist, tugging you back down on the sofa. “Sit down,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re not going anywhere yet. We need to talk about something.”

“About what?” You ask, not looking at him.

He lets go of your wrist, crossing his arms over his chest. “This,” He says simply, gesturing towards your face. “This…depression, sadness, self-pity bullshit. I hate seeing you the way you are right now, like you’ve just been kicked down. It’s pathetic. It’s not you.”

You don’t reply, finally looking over at him, eyes red rimmed with tears.

He stares back, his expression unchanging. You think he would’ve softened up at the sight of you, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to see you like this anymore. You’re supposed to be his best friend, the person he confides in and takes comfort in. “You’re supposed to be the person I come to when I’m upset. Not the other way around. This pity party you have going on needs to end. You’re better than that.”

You look back down at your lap, starting to pick at the skin around your thumbnails. “What do you want me to do?”

“Move on,” Rafe says, his tone harsher than he intended. “Move the fuck on. I want my best friend again, not this whiney, insecure brat. I don’t have any romantic feelings for you, and I’m tired of treating you with kid gloves because you can’t handle the truth. Get a grip and get over it. You either move on, and things go back to normal, or we stop being friends.”

You feel your stomach drop, your throat constricting, air getting caught in your windpipe. You don’t look at him, continuing to dig your fingernails into your skin. He watches you for a moment, noticing the way your chest shakes as you try to keep back the tears. He knew your habits by now, and he noticed the way your hands started to fiddle and pick. You did that when you were trying to distract yourself. You did that when you were upset, hurt. 

“Stop that,” He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

You pull your hand away and stand up, fists clenching as your chest shakes. You couldn’t break down. Not here, not in front of him. “I should go.”

Rafe reaches out, grabbing your wrist again. He stands up too, using his grip to tug you back towards him. “We need to talk about this. Sit down.”

You pull away again, taking a step back, a soft squeak tumbling out of your mouth as you start to cry.

The squeak causes his stomach to twist. His face falls. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pleads softly, his hand reaching out for you again.

You retreat again, shaking your head as more tears start to fall. Your legs shake, your hands coming up to cover your face.

He grabs your wrist again, gently pulling you into his arms. “Stop it,” he says firmly, pulling you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling frame. “Stop.”

You sob into his chest, your hands still covering your face, shoulders shaking violently as you try and take a deep breath.

He stays quiet, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly against him. His other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, playing with the roots of it as his chin rests on the top of your head. “Stop crying,” He repeats, his voice a bit gentler. “I’m not worth it.”

“Yes you are.” You mumble, wiping your tears with your fingers, palms still pressed against your face, mascara smearing across your cheeks.

“No, I’m not,” He says firmly, his breath fanning over the crown of your head. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. Not to offer comfort. No, he knew that wouldn’t work. But to just keep you where you were, firmly held against his chest. “I’m a disaster. Even after everything, after trying to change, I’m still a disaster.”

“You're not a disaster.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

He stares down at you, his expression hard to read. He has his usual, guarded look on, but the way his hand reaches up to gently wipe away one of your tears gives away the fact that he’s affected. “I am,” He repeats, his voice quiet. “And I won’t ever be the man you think I am.”

You hesitate. “I want the Rafe I’m looking at. Not the picture of you in my head.”

He lets a huff of air out through his nose, his expression softening for the briefest of moments as he looks down at you. You were so beautiful, even when you were crying and on the edge of a breakdown. But he couldn’t allow himself to get caught up in it again, like in high school. He had moved on. At least, in his mind. “You’ll never be satisfied with that. I’m no saint, and I’ll never be the romantic, fairy tale guy you want me to be.”

“I just want--” You try to correct yourself, although you meant the former. “I just wanted to be yours.”

He stiffens for a second, his gaze hardening again as he studies your face. “No,” he mutters, a tinge of something you can’t place in his voice. “You can’t be mine. I’m not yours, and I’ll never be yours. You’re not mine to keep, you’re not the one I want, you’re not the one I’m in love with.”

You sigh, your voice soft. “I know.”

He lets out a breath, the expression on his face pained. He cupped your face, wiping away some of the smeared mascara. “I don’t want to keep hurting you,” He says softly. “I don’t want to keep making you cry. I don’t want to keep disappointing you.”

“I’m hurting myself,” You say. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who just can’t move on.”

“You’re not the one at fault,” Rafe says, his thumb still wiping at the tear stains on your cheek. “I’m the one who can’t love you the way you want to be loved. And I’ll never be able to. You deserve someone who can, and I want you to find that person.”

You did find that person, the one holding your face and looking at you like you’re his saving light in eternal darkness. You had ignored so many bad omens, hoping that the universe was wrong, that they made a mistake, that your red strings of fate were intertwined in the stars.

But they weren’t.

You swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder. To get over you.”

“Good.” He says, his thumb brushing under your eye one last time, wiping away a tear. His thumb brushes across your cheek, pressing down slightly to feel the softness of your skin. He moves his other hand to your jaw, moving his thumb side to side on your neck, feeling your pulse. 

His eyes meet yours before his gaze travels over your face, soaking in every detail of you. They linger on your lips, just for a second too long, and much to his dismay, you notice it. His eyes move back up to look into yours.

Your breath hitches ever so slightly, your lips parting. Rafe purses his lips together slightly, rubbing them together, his eyes looking back down at your mouth. He mumbles your name quietly, his voice soft.

“What?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer. 

His eyes are still looking at your mouth. He watches your lips move as you speak, watches how your tongue peeks out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly. 

He can’t think straight. He can’t think at all. His mind has gone fuzzy, and every cell of his body is telling him something he knows he shouldn’t do. 

His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in closer.

He places a kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing.

Your eye twitches, your stomach churning, your face getting hot with shame and embarrassment.

He pulls away, looking down at you. “I’m sorry, alright? Can we just… can we just chill and watch a movie?”

You should say no. You should scream at him, yell at him for manipulating you, for looking at you like that and acting like he was going to kiss you.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to hate him, even after this. 

You swallow hard, blinking a few times as you look at the long forgotten pizza box on the coffee table. “Yeah. We can watch a movie.”

He feels relieved. That’s good. 

He gives you a small smile, placing a hand on the small of your back and ushering you towards the sofa. He turns you towards the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down, his hand still lingering on your back, the feel of your skin under your sweater making his heart race. 

His eyes linger on you for a moment, before he turns to grab the remote off of the coffee table. He sits down next to you, trying to keep a normal distance between the two of you, instead of pressing himself up against your side. He opens the pizza box as he opens Hulu, handing you a slice. 

You take it, your fingers and hands numb and tingling as you try to suppress the bile in your throat.

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The Outer Banks is truly paradise on Earth.

Although The Boneyard isn’t the nicest beach on the island, it has a few secluded spots that still manage to take your breath away. You find your favourite spot easily, a small sandbank by the entrance to a long-forgotten cove. It was once filled with rumours of pirates and treasures, but now it’s full of seaweed.

You settle into the sand, holding your sandals in your hands, arms draped over your knees. You watch the sunset pink and orange streaking across the sky, listening to the soft crashing of the waves and the distant call of a seagull. The wind gently pulls through your hair, and you push some behind your ears, closing your eyes as you feel the sun on your face.

It’s peaceful.

Another soft breeze brushes over you, carrying with it the scent of weed, an uncommon occurrence for this particular spot. Not a lot of other people on the island knew of your spot, mainly just Rafe and Sarah.

You turn your gaze to your left, finding a familiar figure sitting about a yard away from you.

JJ smiles, head tilted to the side, a lit joint between his fingers. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You say, smiling softly. You had always had a little soft spot for JJ, considering him to be one of the few Pogues you could actually stand, maybe other than Kiara.

JJ takes a hit of the joint, looking out over the ocean, the sun starting to descend towards the horizon. He sighs contently before turning to look at you again, raising his eyebrows as he studies you. “What’re doing out here all alone?”

“Just watching the sunset.” You say. You pat the sand next to you, inviting him to take a seat.

“Yeah? Me too,” He says, moving closer to take a seat next to you. He stretches out his legs, leaning back onto his hands and resting his head against the sand. He takes another hit from the joint, sighing out the smoke before offering it to you. “Want a hit?”

You nod, taking it between your thumb and pointer finger. You take a deep hit, sucking in the smoke and blowing it out in a thick white cloud. You hold it out towards him. “Thanks.”

He takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Anytime,” He says, leaning back. He watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. The sun is setting in front of you, casting a warm, orange glow illuminating you that catches on your hair. He can’t help but admire the way the sunset looks against your figure, casting a glowing haze around you. His gaze softens in the presence of your soft glow. “You look pretty tonight.”

You smile softly, feeling your face get warm. “Thanks, JJ. So do you.”

He smiles back, his eyes locking with yours. It’s just the two of you out here, and JJ likes it that way. Just you and him sitting alone on the beach, watching the sunset. “Just pretty?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Handsome.” You add.

He’s silent for a moment, staring back at you. He lets out a breath through his nose, trying to hide the grin on his face as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, but it’s still clear on his face. “Damn right, I am.” He mutters. The two of you just stare at each other for a minute, the quiet sounds of the ocean in front of you and the distant sound of a fish jumping, trying to catch a bug flying across the water.

You smile at him again, looking back over the water.

JJ studies your profile for a moment, taking a hit off of his joint before passing it back to you, still staring at you. His eyes linger on your eyes, before slowly dropping down to your lips. He watches you, the soft expression on your face and how your hair blows in the wind. He’s always liked the way you look when you’re relaxed. You always look pretty, but you really look beautiful when you’re relaxed, when there’s no stress or worry in your mind. 

He studies your face, committing every detail to memory. He sits up straighter, placing the joint back in his mouth. He hesitates before throwing one arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. You oblige, slotting yourself against him, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

He smiles to himself, feeling you move closer. His arm tightens around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into your shoulder. He watches the sun over the ocean, noticing how the light dances over the rippling water. He takes the joint from his mouth once again, taking a hit. He holds it in his lungs for a second, before leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting down to your cheek. He lets out a cloud of smoke from his mouth, the smoke hovering in the air between the two of you.

You take the joint from him and take a hit before handing it back, holding it in your lungs before exhaling slowly. You look up at him, watching as he puts the joint in his mouth as he shifts in the sand. You smile softly again, admiring the way his eyes shine in the pink and orange hues of the setting sun.

Sometimes the one you want is not the one you need.

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part three?

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @maybanksgirl69, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish, @user381963, @monkey-d-juliana, @ursogorgeous1313, @drewstarkeysstuff, @ts1mp0ne, @kayreblogs, @rafeycameronsgf, @lulbabes, @karmasloverrr, @greyswaren, @tini5, @witchmoon10, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @arivh, @devils-blackrose, @goldsainz, @vonhoe, @exhaustedbutelated, @enjoymyloves, @rinasauruss, @danikasthings, @danicl25, @outlawedmando, @lucifersie, @wtfisastiles, @maybankslover (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my permanent obx taglist here!

[pixiecaps]

i recommend watching connors video its really well done i think he went into the topic in a wonderful manner. he goes into the timeline of everything, explaining vtubers, mouseys primary immune deficiency, and all that context that i think people tend to gloss over.

connor even goes into showing examples of the hate mousey has gotten on platforms like tiktok. which sorta illustrate the overall picture of what mousey has had to consistently deal with. i think one of the moments for me when i realized how bad the hate had gotten was during the subathon where everyday people would come into mouseys chat to say something hateful. everyday. to the point where mousey would have to address these comments and specifically told her community, hey i know seeing hate sparks the reaction of wanting to comment back but dont. and if you truly feel the need to then simply reply donate plasma. saying this while facing some of the most malicious hate ive ever seen. still she would rather try to spread some positivity and awareness by saying to donate plasma rather than trying to shit on other creators communities which is a level of maturity i fucking admire. and i think in this period of the internet we dont see all too often. in the video connor actually shows examples of these chat messages from a 85 PAGE LONG DOCUMENT. fucking bizarre. and yet i still remember during that subathon era seeing people say she wasn’t getting hated on at all and that her fans were exaggerating.

what i really appreciate is connor even making this video on this cause as someone who watches ironmouse consistently and watched the entire subathon and all their streams together this is a topic that mousey is very vocal on with her chat and she talks a lot about this to connor. and he’s always been very sympathetic and there to defend her so it’s cool to see him constantly have her back and vtubers as a whole since hes so intertwined with these communities despite them not being his community per say. connor bluntly stating in the video, “yes you got me. this is a video about me defending my friend 100%. i’m not even trying to hide that. but i also just want to bring a tiny bit of attention to the level of normalized hate that is for some reason acceptable.” is awesome. and a video like this hopefully can inform others and make people realize that the level of hate thats accepted on the internet nowadays is wild. and i need this to be clear mousey has spoken about this hate train she’s been enduring a numerous amount of times and it doesnt get seen as much. but she has spoken about it and what she sees and gets told privately on a daily basis. from her own words the hate just gets more intense as time goes by. and it sucks that shes such a kind creator who has to deal with it just cause shes.. a vtuber.

in short. never send hate to anyone. be kind. watch more vtubers theyre fucking talented and great content creators. fuck what anyone else says about them.

[altraviolet]

Oh! I just remembered something about your story I’ve been meaning to ask. I noticed maybe.. 3 times that some bots beginning to explain something to soundwave, and then instead say something like “Ah, you don’t care anyways.” Soundwave always responds in his mind “You don’t know how I feel.” I could be wrong but I don’t think that was ever fully addressed in your story. Like, soundwave just lets it slide. Why exactly? Also even after some people get to know him somewhat they still assume that?

ahhh the "you don't know what i care about" line. one of my favorite recurring threads throughout the fic :D

it's not so much "soundwave just lets it slide," it's that Soundwave Cares About Rodimus, and the three times that line is used, he cannot/will not expose this secret of his to the person he's talking to.

First time:

[Rodimus] “Can I come in?” Soundwave stepped aside. Rodimus slouched on his bed. He looked up at Soundwave. He glanced at the poster of them on Enceladia. His spoiler went down. “You don't care about anything, right?” ?? you don't know what i care about “Well?” “Incorrect. Several... things are important to me.”

Here Soundwave is talking with Rodimus, so he's obviously not going to say anything. It's far too early in the fic for that. The phrase combined with "several things are important to me" is a signal to the reader that Soundwave cares about Rodimus.

Second time:

“That's what I felt during the gray years,” said Drift. He reset his vocalizer. “That's why Rodimus couldn't fix it. He tried so hard to make me happy again. He was so happy when we- I mean, he and I-” Drift's eyes flashed. “Never mind. You wouldn't care.” you don't know what i care about, thought Soundwave as Drift hurried away. His processor chewed on Drift's words, repeating them over and over. “That's why Rodimus couldn't fix it. That's why Rodimus couldn't fix it.”

Here Soundwave is talking to Drift, and he's extremely not going to tell Drift what he cares about.

Side note: these paragraphs tie up the gray years from Soundwave's point of view. The reason Rodimus couldn't fix Drift's hurt is because Drift didn't love him the way he loved Ratchet. The only thing that would've made Drift feel better is Ratchet.

Third time:

Swerve held up the data pad and whistled. “Wow, there's a lot of really specific requests on here. Things I haven't served since...” His gaze moved to a model replica of the Lost Light behind the bar, surrounded by a few dusty, empty bottles. “Since... never mind. You won't care.” you don't know what i care about

Here Soundwave is talking to 0001 Swerve back in the 0001 dimension. He wouldn't waste his time correcting Swerve's assertion. Swerve assumes Soundwave wouldn't care about the Lost Light. He does, but he can't say why without having to answer a ton of questions. Also, shortly after he spots 0001 Rodimus. There's no reason to engage in conversation with this Swerve, whom he will never see again.

Another side note: Soundwave stating openly to himself that he cares about something, in defiance of assured statements by other characters, shows how he's changed since the very beginning.

So this isn't an unaddressed, loose thread. It's a deliberate demonstration of Soundwave's character change and a realistic portrayal of how he would react in those situations: he often defaults to silence.

[uhmimlost]

I realise that people generally see Asmo as a shallow character or someone who is written in a manner which seems comedic at best and I just feel like there is so much to him that people tend to overlook so I'm going to list down some things I love about Asmo...

Yes, he's narcissistic but a lot of that comes from his insecurity in his appeal as a personality and not just for his beauty.

It's mentioned time and time again that Lucifer kept him by his side because he was the Jewel of the heavens and was incredibly beautiful to look at which most definitely deeply affected his psyche, to a point where he constantly feels the need to keep up his appearance because he sincerely believes that's the only value he brings to the table.

That's also one of the reasons he is so easily swooned by the MC because they compliment him as a person as opposed to his looks. In fact his whole blood moon competition arc was so beautiful because it gives such an insightful picture of him as a person and how desperately he wants to show his capabilities and his resolve to the person he loves. He wants them to see him for who he is and what he can do when he puts his mind to something.

He is incredibly protective of his brothers and is a huge supporter and source of confidence for them. The second dame event, his sacrifice for Mammon and the whole dynamic between the two, even in chats is 🥺. They're the only two people who can match each other's energies and get along incredibly well to a point where they're often together despite the bickering ( very well put together sibling energy).

His relationship with Satan, who he is closest to in the group. The little cat fights between them. His relationship with Lucifer, which is of complete adoration and respect that is deeply relayed from both of them to each other, although more stoically from one end. How he babies the twins. And how he is always trying to include Levi. What's even funnier is most of them are absolutely running out of the way when he's angry. Man's got his wrestling moves down.

Not to mention the whole nail painting thing and his whole reason behind it. His pictures are always hilarious and he loves messing around with everyone in the family.

Not to mention, out of all the siblings he is extremely affectionate and has a lot of love to give. Compared to his brothers, he very openly addresses his admiration and fascination for his siblings. Other than Asmo being so vocal about it, you only ever see it amongst the twins for each other but that's it. I really do believe he brings a sense of balance to the chaotic side and overly stoic side of the household.

He's the quintessential self-sufficient middle child and positive yet mischievous figure who brings a sense of balance to this family.

[signedaiko]

greetings my fellow human, would it be possible to request some mtmte headcannons? Possibly the reactions of ratchet, rong rung and Cyclonus walking in on their human friend, only to find out they cut their hair. Like, the human had an anxiety attack and in their panicked state, they cut their long hair, thinking they don’t deserve to be pretty.

this just happened to me today, so knowing what kind of reactions my fav transformers have would really help out. Don’t do this if you don’t feel like it, no pressure (I miss my hair 🥲)

Cyclonus | Ratchet | Rung [MTMTE]

In which you have an anxiety attack and cut your hair, and the mechs take notice.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Human | Autobot. Platonic.

Cyclonus

Finding out you'd cut your hair in such a state, especially as a means of making yourself 'less pretty,' was something they didn't anticipate in humans

In a way, Cyclonus found your actions very similar to their desecration of their face

For that, he responds to it similarly to how he would have wanted others to respond to him: without making a big deal out of it

He thinks you deserve to have nice things and look nice, too, and is vocal that you are just as deserving as any other being that is forced into existence

In Cyclonus' opinion, no one asked to look the way they do, so if you like it, great!

But if you don't, you deserve to feel frustrated about that

But he won't let it go any further than that

Hair removal is painless when cut at length, so he lets it slide, but you will get a demand from him to not stretch any further than hair cutting

Long hair or not, you look fine, and you are still the same person he recalls, and Cybertronians don't even have hair, so why would it change the way he thinks about you?

If you have any hair left from cutting it, Cyclonus might just ask for some so he can sneak it to one of the scientists and see if they can make some kind of regrowth agent

Ratchet

Ratchet just doesn't get fashion at all

When he sees you, he would think you did it on purpose and tell you it looks great

But he'd notice you're not too happy about it not too long after his comment and apologize if that wasn't what you were looking for

The work you did with the craft scissors wasn't exactly even, especially not at the back

He knows your aim was to take something away from yourself, but he also thinks it's silly that you don't think you deserve something as simple as something that literally grows from your own body's work

So he'll find some tools that can do the trick and offer to cut it at least a bit more neatly for you

He's able to get everything to about the same length and in a style he thinks you'll enjoy, so it looks purposeful as it did before and so it won't grow in awkwardly

"What do you think, kid?"

So long as it improved your mood at least the littlest bit, then it was worth getting all those tiny hair clippings everywhere

Seriously, everywhere, he's still finding some in the cracks of his own plating

Rung

Hair is such a curious aspect of human anatomy; it's useful in some ways, but the stylizing and individuality given to people just by the hundreds of thousands of strands on their heads is unique

From what Rung could tell, you cared about your hair and preferred it long

Which is why it was concerning when he noticed you'd cut it all off out of nowhere

Your mood had been decreased recently, too, and all signs pointed to you having some kind of mental break

Rung requests you speak with him, even if not in depth, so he can feel at ease about your health and safety

If you're vocal about missing your long hair and how you felt you couldn't let yourself have something nice, he would do some research

Printing images of hairstyles he thinks you could try, he even makes some hair accessories to go with them from some leftover fabric and pieces he finds around

You spend a session looking through pictures and picking the ones you like

Rung promises the next time they're near an organic planet with a hairdresser, he will bring you himself so they can get it done properly rather than whatever moment of work Ratchet was able to do with his equipment

Authors Note - You know, when I was 13, I had been a dancer, especially in ballet, for my whole life. As I got older, I gained 20 pounds, and my instructor belittled me so much for it. She loved my long, untouched hair, so I took scissors and cut it all right down to my skin!!!

Basically, I did it too, and I had a super cool Skrillex haircut for a long time until I grew it out two years ago. Hair always grows back! Hope you're doing better.

[squiddy-god]

Hello! I would like to request for oral (recieving) hcs with the wuwa men! Feel free to add whoever you're currently horny abt, I'm happy to brainrot alongside you <3

Ok i might just be stoopid- so hopefully i understand this correctly- if not ooooohhh nooooo ig ill just have to write more wuwa smut :( what a shame. Annyway the ones i'm currently horni about are eternally calcharo, jiyan, so that is who i am going to be writing about today 

Request open don't be shy!!

Calcharo, jiyan 

Cw : smut, no plot in sight, wuwa men receiving, oral, [head]cannons (get it hahaha), gn! Reader, jiyan two dick supremacy, technicaly a hand job thrown in there

꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧˚꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧˚꒷︶꒷꒥

꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧˚꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧˚꒷︶꒷꒥

Calcharo 

Woof 

Damn you on the edge of the bed, you bout to fall off 

He has a death grip on the sheets, white knuckle grip and sweating bullets the first time you tell him you wanna go down on him

He already isn't the most vocal in general but he is dead silent, glareing down at you so hard you think he genuinely hates it, so you try to back off (obviously) and he manages to stop biting his cheek and tongue to all but plead for you to please not stop

He's just pent up and repressed man 

From then on he tries not to be so quiet, getting comfortable enough to let those sound slip from his lips 

Huffs and pants, lots of grunt

He's still fairly quiet but, especially when he's close, he is literally groaning and panting like he's out of breath because he truly is 

Hands either death grip on the ground/sheets or on the back of your head 

Now I firmly believe that you could ask him anything and he'd agree. And he means it too 

Mid head you pull away with a pop and ask him anything, kill a man, a gift, seriously anything and he's asking for a name afterwards because he always completes the job. 

I think the idea that you, who he loves and trusts so much, wants to give him oral, is very hot to him.

Just the idea of you wanting him, enough to ask to do something for him? <3 

Very hot, has him hard, bricked up you could say. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Jiyan 

I love him your honor

Ok now i think he is also nervous when you first ask to go down on him, don't get me wrong he is absolutely down, but uhhh 

Two of em 

The sight of you knelt between his muscular thighs, hand wrapped around one of his weeping cocks while the other was nice and warm in your mouth has him feeling a burning deep in the base of his spine

That tingling shiver that snakes along his skin and brings him that much closer to the edge 

Moans, maybe even whimpers a little. 

And when you switch, hand now stroking his spit slick length and mouth wrapped around the neglected one beneath it nearly finishes him

But he tries his best not to because he wants the feel to last a bit longer

The way i think you could genuinely make this man cum from just from kissing his dick

Like just lavashing him with such sweet kisses, both pecs and open mouth smooches has his heart fluttering so hard you can feel it in the way he throbs 

[shinehalley]

I've been rereading Emma these days and I think it has a lot of potential for an au. No, seriously, bear with me.

Edwin is like Emma - both have great confidence in their own observation skills and intelligence to the point of letting obvious things (including their own feelings) slip past their own knowledge. In addition, they are deeply touched by generosity and a desire to be helpful, although they are proud.

Charles is like Knightley - both are generous and helpful without any hesitation and do not mind openness in the people around them, especially those they desire as company. They are close friends with their respective peers and always regarded with the greatest esteem and consideration, even in the midst of disagreement. And there is the bitterness of jealousy that they try to hide with little success, too.

Niko is like Harriet - pretty, young and affable, always willing to accompany and make herself pleasant to those she cares about. A bit romantic and emotional about her own and others' romantic pretensions, but a bit uncertain about what to actually do with those pretensions. She may be swayed at first by well-articulated words, but her own desires are always heard in the end.

Crystal is like Robert Martin - they both seem to belong to a different reality, a different world, and they receive a certain amount of contempt for it. When they want something and are given the right incentives or are overcome by their own desire, they do not hesitate to reveal their intentions. Even in bitterness, they still try to be generous with those they care about and do not give up easily on those they love.

Cat King is like Frank Churchill - his good looks and affability are easy to please and he always knows how to make a smart comment or a well-placed compliment to charm those around him or those who have caught his eye. He clearly keeps his intentions hidden despite his attentions and seems much more willing to follow his own ideas of fun and comfort than to think about the consequences for those around him.

Monty is like Jane Fairfax - both prodigious and reserved, unfortunately a victim of they precarious living conditions that prevent they from truly having their talent and beauty recognized as deserved. The reserve can be seen as a secret that them hopes to hide from those around and most of they actions are for the purpose of pleasing someone else.

Esther is like Mrs. Elton - they both think they are more important than everyone else and are very vocal about it. They want to impose their will and demands on everyone else and establish harmful favoritism only to negatively affect other targets. However, they are elegant and well-positioned where they live.

Jenny is like John Knightley - with sarcastic remarks and sharp observations, both offers advice and opens the eyes of those around they even when doesn't mean to. No favoritism or unnecessary praise, just a person who does they job properly and shows affection in a somewhat unconventional way to those around.

Tragic Mick as Mr. Woodhouse - (I admit this was the hardest one to define, but I think it's the closest parallel I could find) both can be seen as obsessive about their physical misfortunes that are not resolved by anything, not even the various advice of those around them, and are always willing to give advice, solve or lament the problems of others. Their subjects are limited to mainly their own lamentations, but they genuinely care about people.

Genuinely thinking about writing a bit about this next year.

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

dead or alive? (sirius & regulus)

a/n: a little black brothers angst! still debating whether or not i like it, but sharing it anyways. heads up for reg not doing too hot.

‘Regulus?’

It is 04:00am and dark. Sirius is sat with his back against the bathroom door in his brother’s flat. His phone lies discarded on the floor, the bright screen of his messages with Barty acting as a torch in the early morning shadows.

‘Regulus?’ he repeats, voice quiet and thin. It sounds less like a name and more like a hope, feebler than he wants it to. He clears his throat abruptly and gives it another shot.

‘Listen,’ he says, attempting to bargain with the nothingness. ‘I’m not asking you to come out here and have a nice little chinwag about your feelings or any of that idiocy. I’m not a therapist, and I’m not going to force you to tell me about any of the shit you’re going through right now, promise. I just need to know that you’re okay.’ Sirius’ eyes flick down to the Whatsapp messages at his feet. He rubs his face roughly with his palm and gazes bitterly at the ceiling.

‘The things Barty’s been telling me are fucking scary, you know that? You’ve got to know that. Just knock or something. Come on.’ The clock down the hall cuts through the silence with a few jarringly loud ticks. It is 04:02am.

‘Fuck’s sake, Reg,’ he swears, exasperated. ‘Open the bloody door.’

‘You can’t hide in there forever. Aren’t you freezing? I’m freezing. Why don’t you ever put the heating on? I know you can afford it.’

‘I swear to God, this is getting ridiculous now. I know you’re there. I can see your damn shadow.’ Sirius’ long pale fingers tie themselves into knots over and over as he fidgets. More agonising silence.

‘Regulus.’ The door remains shut, and the shadow behind it remains unspeaking. It is 04:05am.

‘Should I get someone else here? Is it just me that you don’t want to talk to, is that it? If I got Evan or Remus or, shit, literally anyone else, would you speak to them?’ Desperation is beginning to crawl out of Sirius’ throat, mangling his words into raw, strained sounds that chase after each other quicker than they ought to.

‘Come on. You haven’t got vocal cords for nothing, you are aware of that right? Just say something. Just let me hear your voice, and then I’ll go away and never bother you again, yeah? Just let me know you’re alive. Please, Reg.’

‘You’re my little brother, you know. You’re still my little brother. I know you hate me, a-and I hated you too, for… longer than I should have, and growing up was pretty shite - I think we both understand that now. You know, I’ll always feel guilty for leaving you. I swear, there hasn’t been a single day where the guilt hasn’t eaten me alive, James could tell you. So you’ve every right to hate me. Really, you do. You could hate me for your whole entire life and I’d get it, seriously, I would get it! But you’re my little fucking brother, Reggie. C’mon. Just do this one thing for me, this time. I need to know my little brother’s okay. I need to know he’s here with me and not… not dead on the fucking floor. Give me that much.’

It is 04:12am when the handle turns. Sirius isn’t expecting it at all - he’s aching and exhausted and terrified and too used to silence. He jumps when he hears it, turns wide, shining eyes towards the sound with unsure anticipation. There’s a few moments of clumsy shuffling, and then the door is opening inwards onto a dull gloom that clings to the tiling and old-fashioned sink with unrelenting intensity. It is very quiet. For one terrible moment Sirius thinks, irrationally, that maybe Regulus isn’t there. That he’d been sitting in the hallway for the past twelve minutes begging thin air and the ghost of who used to breathe it. But then the shadows are shifting, taking on form and contour, becoming something more familiar. Regulus crawls out from behind the door with shaky breaths, and lets himself be lit by the phone on the floor in all his wretched vulnerability.

Sirius doesn’t move, at first. He just stares at his brother. Sees his grey eyes reflected back at him in a slightly younger yet equally pained mirror image. Sees those eyes flicker and move and relishes in the aliveness of them. Sees a not dead brother. Then it processes somehow, and he’s pulling that wonderful, infuriating, not dead brother hastily and instinctively towards him with both arms, and holding him, and crying without realising it. Regulus lets it happen. He collapses into the hug.

[carabas]

Sorting out Veilguard thoughts. This is very long, I had mixed feelings about Solas's endings and this is me trying to make Solas's actions and motivations make sense to me through quotes and bullet points.

Basic starting principle of the game: Solas is trapped by regret. We left him at the end of Trespasser heading out on the din'anshiral but not exactly enthusiastic about it, he's conflicted, he doesn't want to break the world again but he feels he has to, the whole plot here grows out of that. He tried to save the world and woke up finding he'd created a nightmare hell world a la the Inquisitor's trip to the terrible future version of Redcliffe, and it's his responsibility to fix that.

Specifically, the problems that make this a nightmare hell world:

The Blight's still here!! The whole point was to trap the Blight and yet it's still leaking into the world, his world-saving plan didn't even get that part right, what the fuck.

Mortality. First spirits took bodies which he had mixed feelings about to begin with, and which was the crime against the Titans which ultimately resulted in the Blight which I can't imagine improved his feelings about it - but also now they die, he is personally responsible for generations of people being permanently trapped in bodies which die, he didn't even want a body in the first place. "Your legends are half-right. We were immortal. It was not the arrival of humans that caused us to begin aging. It was me. The Veil took everything from the elves, even themselves."

A world of Tranquil. It's not just how long mortals live, it's the way they live, with no connection to the Fade outside their dreams. "You saw the remains of Vir Dirthara. The library was intrinsically tied to the Fade, and the Veil destroyed it. There were countless other marvels, all dependent on the presence of the Fade, all destroyed." Instead of those marvels, there's a fear and distrust and ignorance of all things Fade - and there are few things that frustrate Solas as much as ignorance - and that fear of the Fade naturally results in the fear of mages, the whole central plot of DA2, the struggle for mage freedom which Solas was vocal about and which was a big factor in his approval in Inquisition.

The effects on the spirits of the Fade, who Solas sees as people when most of the mortal world does not. ...You know what, I'm just going to copy-paste some longer quotes from Inquisition for this one because this is something that wasn't touched on much at all in Veilguard.

Even in Solas's very early-game conversations with the Inquisitor, he tells us exactly how he sees the effects of the Veil on spirits and how the mortal world relates to them:

Inquisitor: I'd like to know more about the Veil.

Solas: Circle mages call it a barrier between this world and the Fade. But according to my studies in ancient elven lore, that is a vast oversimplification. Without it… Imagine if spirits entered freely, if the Fade was not a place one went but a state of nature like the wind.

Inquisitor: It sounds like it would be wonderful.

Solas: And dangerous, but… yes. A world where imagination defines reality, where spirits are as common as trees or grass. Instead, spirits are strange and fearful, and the Fade is a terrifying world touched only by mages and dreamers. I am glad that I am not alone in seeing the beauty of such a world, along with the obvious peril.

And:

Inquisitor: I’d like to know more about demons.

Solas: The Chantry says that demons hate the natural world and seek to bring their chaos and destruction to the living. But such simplistic labels misconstrue their motivations and, in so doing, do all a great disservice. Spirits wish to join the living, and a demon is that wish gone wrong.

Inquisitor: Is there a way to coexist? To live with them, if not in peace, at least without such active confrontation?

Solas: Not in the world we know today. The Veil creates a barrier that makes true understanding most unlikely. But the question is a good one, and it matters that you thought to ask.

And this was the codex entry description of demonic possession in the first two games, as written by a senior enchanter from Ostwick:

Why do demons seek to possess the living? History claims they are malevolent spirits, the first children of the Maker, angry at their creator for turning from them and jealous of those creations he considered superior. They stare across the Veil at the living and do not understand what they see, yet they know they crave it. They desire life, they pull the living across the Veil when they sleep and prey on their psyche with nightmares. Whenever they can, they cross the Veil into our world to possess it outright. We know that any demon will seek to possess a mage, and upon doing so will create an abomination.

And this was Cole's reaction to discovering the history of the Veil in Trespasser:

Cole: The Veil isn’t real. It’s false, fake, fabricated to forbid. Isn’t it wonderful? It means I belong here! Helping, healing the hurt! I’m not a wrong thing, a wreck, a ruin. I’m what I should be!

...We're repeatedly told throughout the series that spirits desire to be with the living and the Veil is preventing that, for good or ill. Rook's team cares about this in terms of the threat of their world being destroyed by a sudden flood of demons, but from Solas's point of view the spirits belonged here to begin with and it's his mistake that makes coexistence impossible.

But at the same time, the first three games were set in the South - Veilguard shows us the Mourn Watch and Rivaini seers who do coexist with spirits, even with the Veil still in place. Other characters are less comfortable with this, but we're not getting anywhere near the same focus on the fear of spirits and mages here that we saw in the South. The game's just... not really interested in discussing this, we're not focusing on these ongoing effects of the Veil right now in this game about Solas trying to bring the Veil down, sure there's the occasional haunting and plenty of demons to fight but we're treating the ability to coexist with spirits as basically a solved problem in northern Thedas. And we've already put the mage rights plotline to rest in Inquisition. We're done, we're moving on, those parts of Solas's motivation are still important in that Solas's attitude toward spirits is important, but focusing on those problems is not a priority right now.

So of Solas's motivations that we saw back in Inquisition, the outlook now... the Blight's a problem, everyone's on the same page about the Blight being a problem, and in the good ending Solas winds up working on that aspect of the problem - but his other motivations, although they may still be problems, do not look as huge and pressing in Veilguard as they did in Inquisition. We've seen cultures where people and spirits coexist even with the Veil in place; mages in the north seem to be doing fine, at least as far as my Nevarran mage Rook's experience goes, and even in the south the treatment of mages is no longer what it was in the first two games; and the wonders of the Fade may be great but there are also dangers, acknowledged by Solas, and if a lot of people would rather keep the dangers out than bring the wonders or the immortality back in... who has the right to decide that for the whole world?

That's become the sticking point here. It's not really about how to solve the ongoing problems created by the Veil... it's whether they're Solas's problems to solve. And there's plenty of reason for him to answer yes to that, he created the problem to begin with and few other living people even have the knowledge that the Veil is unnatural, much less the ability to fix it - but also, let's be real, his attempts at solving problems have had some extremely fucking questionable results thus far.

And the stance this story has taken is: Solas is imprisoned by regret. Whether the Veil should come down or not, the reason Solas specifically has to walk this path is because of regret. And this story's happiest ending that takes the most effort to unlock is trying to release him from the role his regrets have imprisoned him in. (Relevant parallel: Lucanis carrying his mental prison around with him to the point that Spite can't tell they ever left.)

It's not like the whole world has taken a vote and decided that the Veil is good and immortality/wonders/coexistence with the Fade are not worth it. Obviously the player character of Veilguard is firmly in favor of guarding said Veil, but in Trespasser and the Masked Empire, Solas had agents working for him; in Tevinter Nights, Solas's monster wolf form was followed by an army of Valor and Justice spirits; in Veilguard, Solas said he had a host of spirits ready to help when the Veil fell to minimize the loss of life. For all the reasons Solas believed the Veil must come down, there's room to believe there are other characters on both sides of the Veil who also see those as problems and would presumably still be working on those problems, although that's not the focus of this game. And more people know about the origins of the Veil now, the story of the gods and Titans.

Solas tried to share the truth with the Dalish when he first woke up, but it went badly then; we know the truth now. Maybe if Solas were just a wisdom spirit he could even have been satisfied by sharing that history and having the truth be heard without taking the whole fate of the world on himself - but Solas is not just a wisdom spirit, and he has been defined by both wisdom and pride. He took on a role he never wanted because Mythal asked it of him, he so hates when spirits are twisted away from their purpose and his got complicated the moment he first took a body. Having the truth heard isn't nearly enough to fix this situation, and he needs to fix it, it is his responsibility to fix it, he is trapped by his regrets.

Talking with Rook about Elgar'nan...

Solas: Can you see how he and I might frustrate one another?

Rook: The two of you are too much alike. Both of you want to be in charge.

Solas: I have no desire to be "in charge."

Rook: No, you just want to be able to correct anyone who's not doing everything the way you'd've done it.

Solas: (Chuckles) I see you have been observing me as well during these conversations.

...Rook and their team can come up with a very wide variety of opinions on Solas, but that line did seem to amuse Solas, Rook had a point with that one. That is the place where Solas's wisdom meets pride.

Rook: All right, I can see how you and Elgar'nan would hate each other.

Solas: He has always been what I most feared becoming. Callous and uncaring, his arrogance unchecked. To have that much power and no one to remind him that he could be wrong…

Rook: Well, he had you.

Solas: (Chuckles) And I suppose I had you.

Solas was afraid of becoming like Elgar'nan, more pride than wisdom. He could see the possibility of that happening, the same way spirits become demons. And in the final scene, if he's not convinced to turn away from his path and attempts to tear down the Veil, he sounds very much like Elgar'nan. In the trickery version, Rook calls him out on this and Solas argues against it but then he comes out with these extremely Elgar'nan-like lines:

Solas: You think yourself capable of judging me? I have faced things you could not possibly comprehend! You are a mortal! A mortal! And I am a--(Rook interrupts him by shoving him toward his prison, and then Solas 'chuckles bitterly') I am a fool…

Even more so if Rook fights him instead of tricking him, with Solas declaring that compared to you mortals, he is a god - which Solas was pretty emphatic about denying before. And maybe that's what he was starting to say in the trickery version too before he was interrupted, "I am a--" and then he had a moment to realize what he was saying.

He was a spirit originally, and spirits are changeable by beliefs and expectations, and in this game the attempt to tear down the Veil very much does change him, instantly. The game treats him as a spirit who is being twisted away from his purpose by the act of tearing down the Veil. More than that, his purpose has already been twisted for a very long time, he already had regrets about this in those memories of ancient Elvhenan, talking about how at least the Disruption spirits died without being twisted from their purpose. He was wisdom before he was pride.

So if the bad endings are about Solas being twisted away from his nature by the very thing he feels he must do to save the world - the good ending is the opposite. It's about bringing him closer to the spirit he used to be, by finally putting down the thing that has been twisting him up.

In the good ending, Rook tries to talk Solas around even before Lavellan and Mythal join in - Rook doesn't want to see the world go through even more pain on top of what Elgar'nan has done, the world is broken but breaking the world again is the wrong way to make up for the damage Solas has caused, Solas has a chance right now to save the world by saving the Veil - and this argument is actually tempting to Solas! It's not enough, but he does pause, he thinks about it, he's conflicted, he's been conflicted this whole time, he was already wrestling with this back in Inquisition when he had only just woken up and had only seen a little of this new world, he has never wanted to break the world. He believed he had to.

Solas: I cannot. To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far.

Lavellan: Even if those you've wronged asked you to stop?

Solas: Vhenan…

Lavellan: You think you've gone too far to come back, but you're wrong. I am here, walking the dinan'shiral with you!

Solas: I lied. I betrayed you.

Lavellan: I forgive you! All you have to do is stop.

Solas: Ir abelas, vhenan… But I cannot.

...He actually paused way longer for Rook's argument about breaking the world than for this. He is more emotional with Lavellan, this did affect him, but that wasn't a convincing argument. I lied, I betrayed you - she tells him she's with him and he gives her a list of reasons she shouldn't be, he can't let himself respond to this right now.

Solas: Long before we met, I failed my oldest friend. She died for that failure. If I leave the Veil in place, I am destroying the world she wanted. And I will have… She will have died for nothing.

He believes the Veil is destroying the world Mythal wanted - and they were the firstborn elves, she invited him to take a body, the union of spirits and the mortal world is integral to his memory of her.

Side note here. If Bellara is in your team when you and Solas are traveling together during the endgame, you get this conversation:

Bellara: All I really want to know is why you killed Mythal.

Solas: The Evanuris killed Mythal.

Bellara: Only the first time. The second time, she was in Flemeth's body, and she didn't want you to destroy the world to avenge her… But you killed her. Was it because she was willing to stop, and you weren't?

Solas: That was not Mythal. It was merely a fragment.

Bellara: Right. That you killed.

…He didn't answer her after that. And now, here at the end of the game, "I will have.... She will have died for nothing," the fact that he killed that merely a fragment of Mythal for this is sticking in his mind, and we saw his regret about that moment plastered on the wall of the Lighthouse, and he is imprisoned by that regret - however conflicted he might feel, he was firmly committed to this path the moment he killed Mythal for a second time.

The final straw, the moment he finally gives up his plan, isn't about the fate of the world at all:

Mythal: I pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.

Solas: The things that I have done…

Mythal: Are not for you alone to bear, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together. I release you from my service.

For this, he is hunched over and small, like she broke him all over again - maybe he had the right idea and breaking something a second time is the way to fix it in his particular case. He was a wisdom spirit before she sent him to war, before he was the Dread Wolf, before he broke the world trying to save it. He has been at war with one thing or another for a very long time.

Here Lavellan says "There is no fate but the love we share," and he doesn't argue with her this time. He can't look at her yet. He makes a fist. He puts a hand to his brow - was Mythal's vallaslin there once? Lowers his head. Looks at the tear in the Veil. Now he finally looks at Lavellan and the other people standing in front of him, not that fragment of Mythal, Mythal is gone. And then he binds himself to the Veil.

He hasn't let go of his past mistakes, that's not what's happening. He's still got regrets. He is letting go of the Dread Wolf, the role that a spirit of wisdom was twisted into.

Solas: With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures. The Titans' dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help to soothe its anger. I will go and seek atonement.

And then he is finally able to respond to Lavellan's love for him, to make this journey together.

[beanghostprincess]

It still amazes me the number of people who see the juxtaposition between Nami and Usopp during Wano and their fight against Ulti as "Nami's devotion to Luffy is unmatched, unlike Usopp's" when she isn't able to say he won't be the king of the pirates but Usopp is telling her to lie.

I think most people don't have in mind, either, that Usopp isn't the one being directly asked. He is looking out for Nami and begging her to lie to keep her alive because he is scared to death they might lose her for something as insignificant as lying. For him, lying is a form of survival and it is not that big of a deal because he trusts Luffy enough to tell Nami to lie about her feelings. It is something that will only stay between them because he knows it is better to lie than to die and Luffy would want it that way too.

And that doesn't mean he isn't loyal to Luffy or his dream. He is just looking out for Nami's safety. And as I said-- He isn't being asked directly, either. It is easier to tell others to lie about something of the sort than to do it yourself, and if the roles were reversed I personally think he'd have the most awful of times with it too.

Nami refuses to say Luffy won't become the king of the pirates because for her, even if lying has gotten her out of messes, she puts her trust and loyalty in Luffy before her own instincts of survival because lying is what got her to push them away when they first met and this is the one thing she can't lie about because it would hurt more than death.

Then again, I think she would do the same exact thing Usopp did if she wasn't being the one asked. It is the whole point of the scene, actually. They both know the most rational thing is to lie so the one witnessing the scene will always be cold-headed about it, but the one having to lie is the one suffering the bitter realization of how lying about this and saying it out loud is way harder than it seems from an outsider's perspective.

So I am tired of seeing people criticizing Usopp for his decision during the fight against Ulti as if it were that easy for him to see Nami being about to get killed if she doesn't lie. Sorry for the guy to actually want to protect the people he loves instead of letting her be reckless and basically kill herself freely for telling a truth even Luffy would tell her to lie about if it meant living.

[ihavebeesinmybrain]

i really do not give lou wilson the credit he deserves that man is funny as fuck

[ratatatastic]

local man haunts (me) open practise yet again more news at 11

[redrobin-detective]

I keep thinking about how sad and unfair Ice King/Simon's relationship with Fionna and Cake was in the main Adventure Time series. We all made fun of him for writing gender bent fanfiction of Finn and Jake. Characters cringed at how obsessive Ice King got about his fantasies, the lengths he went to so they could be real. He believed so fiercely in those ideas that he acted out in ways that were extreme even for him.

Typical Adventure Time to take a gag and make it into something serious.

Because Fionna and Cake WERE real. Prismo created them and their world and then dropped it into Ice King's head. Yes, he had permission but did IK know the reason? The risks? What even was happening? Or did Prismo take advantage of the fact that Simon was a prisoner in his own mind with little agency to force more confusion into his scattered and incoherent brain. How much of his actions was the result of a godlike being knowing that Ice King's resultant behavior would be written off and dismissed.

In addition to the loss of sanity and identity Simon had to deal with over his years as Ice King, he also had the burden on an entire universe of living people living in his head adding to his delusions. How devastating that must have been for someone who could barely tell what was real on a good day.

[buttercup-art]

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG-

[brynn-lear]

I never got too deep into enstars but there are days where I miss Mama 😔

[kumakuma-circus]

sometimes it feels like i'm the only one in this fandom who's right about teddie,,,,,, /silly