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mercillery · 24 hours ago

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ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

CHARACTERS: Luffy + Ace + Sabo

NOTES: Do Luffy haters exist? It’s a dumb question, yes—but I’m genuinely curious. He’s so cute and dumb, I find it hard to not love him.

LUFFY

Luffy wouldn’t really “get” shyness in the conventional sense. But here’s the thing about Luffy: he’s all about accepting people as they are, no questions asked. He treats you with the same bright-eyed, wide-grinned enthusiasm he shows everyone. The idea of you needing to be more outgoing wouldn’t even cross his mind because, to him, you’re already perfect as you are. Shyness? Never heard of it. Just pass the meat, please.

Now, Luffy’s approach to social interactions is, well, 100% Luffy. He doesn’t really adapt his wild and carefree style to match anyone else’s comfort levels. If you're quiet and reserved, that’s cool—Luffy just goes on living life at full volume like it’s another Tuesday on the Sunny.

At first, you might be left wondering how in the seven seas you’re going to survive the endless hurricane of chaos that follows this rubbery captain around. But soon, and without realizing it, you start to find that his reckless antics and headfirst approach to life are... kind of charming. Sure, it’s like living next door to a tornado, but it’s a tornado that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and never lets you get too deep into your own thoughts.

What’s funny is that while he doesn’t actively try to make you feel more comfortable, he ends up doing it anyway. It’s his Luffy magic. You find yourself smiling more often, your shyness loosening its grip bit by bit as he does dumb stuff and throws himself into trouble that only Luffy would consider fun.

He’ll walk up to you, grin stretching from ear to ear, holding out some bizarre, questionably edible snack and say, “You gotta try this!” And just like that, the nerves you felt melt away—not because he’s making an effort to make you feel at ease, but simply because he’s himself.

And sure, sometimes his energy is a lot. We’re talking sprinting-across-decks, yelling-about-meat kind of “a lot.” But in the middle of all that noise, you come to realize that you feel safer and more at ease when you’re around him. Why? Because Luffy has this way of making everything fun and natural, and soon enough, that includes you too.

Before long, your shyness isn’t something you worry about around him; it’s just another thing Luffy accepts without blinking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in his eyes? It is.

It’s cute because you two really are like the sun and the moon, with Luffy as the blazing, never-stopping sun, and you being the more reserved, quiet moon. It’s like a cosmic duo—he’s all light and energy, and you’re the calm, cool reflection of it all. You balance each other out in the weirdest, most wonderful way.

And when people catch wind of the fact that Luffy is dating someone—let alone someone as shy as you—it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes bug out of their head. Yeah, they’re not wrong to be surprised, but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s already busy thinking about what’s next on the agenda, probably involving meat or some kind of treasure hunt.

Luffy is anything but shy. He could probably talk to a rock and think it’s the best conversation he’s had all day. So when it comes to affection, he’s not exactly one to shy away from it. He might not be the clingiest partner out there—he’s not going to be hanging off you like a koala (okay, maybe sometimes)—but you can bet he’s there, always.

Whether it’s randomly giving you a hug in or tossing his arm around your shoulder like it’s no big deal, he’s just Luffy—and that means showing affection wherever and whenever he feels like it, no matter who’s watching. Basically, he’s like a “here’s my arm, it’s yours now” kind of guy.

While Luffy doesn’t exactly get what makes you shy, he’s surprisingly good at picking up on your feelings. If you’re feeling anxious, or if you’re shrinking back into your shell a little bit, Luffy has this unbelievable ability to sense when you need a change of pace. Without even thinking about it, he’ll grab your hand and drag you off on some wild adventure, just to get your mind off things.

He doesn’t even need a reason—he just knows that you could use a distraction, and he’s the perfect person to provide it. Besides, that just gives him more time to spend with you! And, of course, he might offer you one of his beloved snacks or a full meal if you’re feeling off. Seriously, do you know how big that is? Luffy parting with his food is like a miracle in itself, so if he’s offering it to you, you better believe you’re special.

And let’s talk about the food thing for a sec. Do you even realize how big of a deal it is that Luffy shares his food with you? Like, do you know how many times he’s turned down offering a bite of his meat to anyone? Probably never. So when he hands you a piece of his prized food, you know it’s a huge honor. We’re talking sacred territory here.

If you ever doubted your place in Luffy’s heart, just remember: he shares his food with you. That’s a level of trust and affection that not even the grandest feast can outdo. Trust me, you’ve got a special place in his world, and it’s right next to the meat and maybe a little bit of the chaos.

Luffy’s naturally the type of guy who’d include you in absolutely everything—because why wouldn’t he? To him, you’re part of the crew, part of his world, and that means he’s going to drag you into every single bit of it.

You’d be minding your own business, maybe sitting quietly with your book or trying to sneak in a nap, when suddenly—BAM! Luffy's in front of you, grinning like a madman, already talking about the next big adventure or game that everyone’s playing. “C’mon, join us!” he’d say, and before you could protest, he’s already tossing you into the mix.

It’s not that he’s forcing you to join, though—Luffy just has this way of making you feel like you should be there, without ever putting you on the spot. His carefree, inclusive attitude makes it feel like the natural thing to do. You never feel pressure; you just feel... valued. Like you belong, whether you’re quietly cheering from the sidelines or joining in with your own brand of awkward enthusiasm.

It’s like Luffy’s energy is so contagious that you can’t help but want to be part of whatever insane thing he’s cooking up that day, even if it’s just watching him eat his weight in food and making random, nonsensical decisions.

If anyone ever crossed the line with you—teased you, made you uncomfortable, or said something that got under your skin—Luffy would flip the script faster than you can blink. That goofy, carefree grin would disappear in an instant, replaced by a rare, uncharacteristically serious expression.

Suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you like a human shield, ready to take down anyone who dared upset you. He’s usually a chaotic force of nature, but mess with his loved ones, and that’s when you see a side of him that is all about protecting you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to confront the person, his voice firm and unwavering. “Hey! That’s not cool! You don’t mess with my crew!” He’s not one for subtlety or second-guessing, so you’d know right away that Luffy’s on your side. If someone’s being rude or making you feel small, he’ll make sure they know they’ve messed with the wrongggggg person.

The crew’s used to this by now—because Luffy, despite his childish nature, would go to the ends of the earth to defend the people he cares about. You’d feel like the most important person in the world in that moment because, in his eyes, you are.

Luffy’s loyalty is on another level entirely. Once he’s decided he cares about someone, they’re in—no questions, no conditions, just pure, unfiltered loyalty. If you’re lucky enough to be someone Luffy loves, you’d know it in every grin, in every spontaneous gesture, and in every single, joyfully shouted “Let’s go!” You’d never have to second-guess where you stand with him, because Luffy’s affections are as clear as day, as honest and unwavering as the sea he dreams of conquering.

So whether you’re officially part of his crew or not, in his mind, you’re always one of them, and he’d tell anyone who’ll listen, “Yeah, they’re with me!” with a pride that’d make your heart swell.

The best part? Luffy would constantly invite you to tag along on whatever wild journey or ridiculous stunt he’s about to pull. There’d be no hesitation; it’d be, “Hey! Let’s go on an adventure!” as if going on an impromptu quest was as simple as taking a stroll to the market. It’s almost like Luffy has this unspoken rule: every exciting, crazy, fun thing has to be experienced with you.

From treasure hunts that end up in unexpected fights with sea kings to races through bustling ports (where he definitely has no idea where he’s running but is laughing the whole time), Luffy wants you there, right in the middle of it all. You’d probably sigh at the thought of jumping headfirst into another unpredictable situation, but Luffy’s enthusiasm is like a gravitational pull—it’s impossible to resist.

And thank goodness for that, because your timid self wouldn’t stand a chance at taking the lead in any of these wild endeavors. Luckily, Luffy’s the type to charge forward, dragging you along by the hand with zero doubts and zero plans. He makes all the decisions for both of you, which, sure, sometimes means ending up lost on an island full of very angry, very large monkeys because, “They looked friendly!”

You’d feel a mix of exasperation and endearment at his antics. He doesn’t realize it, but his willingness to be the fearless leader—even if his plans are sometimes made with the strategic prowess of a rubber chicken—takes the pressure off you. You don’t have to stress over decisions or worry about whether you’re doing the right thing, because Luffy’s already ten steps ahead (probably literally sprinting) and dragging you along with a confidence that borders on reckless.

And honestly? That’s part of the charm. His “plans” might be half-baked and a little foolish, but he makes up for it by being completely and unapologetically himself.

You’d find yourself smiling more than you ever expected, getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Luffy, and realizing that being with him means never feeling alone, even if you’re quiet or shy.

His laughter, his outbursts, and his impulsive decisions would all become things you cherish, because with him leading the way, life feels a little less scary and a lot more exciting.

ACE

Ace is all warmth and energy, like a bonfire on a chilly night, and he’d go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable in his presence. Despite his natural tendency for excitement and spontaneity, he’d be mindful of your shyness, making a conscious effort to dial down the volume when needed.

You’d catch him lowering his voice a bit, softening his laughter, or even sitting a little closer with a reassuring grin. His laid-back nature would do wonders for your anxiety, melting it away bit by bit like ice under the sun. He’d take a more casual, playful approach when he’s with you, balancing his liveliness with a kind of gentle attentiveness that makes your heart feel at ease.

Ace has a knack for starting conversations, even if the topic is completely random. He’d sense your hesitance and jump in without skipping a beat. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook for the crew and accidentally set a whole forest on fire?” he’d start, eyes twinkling as he watches your reaction.

His stories are always ridiculous��stories of clumsy mishaps, epic pranks gone wrong, or that one time he fell asleep mid-battle. You’d find yourself laughing in spite of yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realize he’s making himself the butt of the joke, just to make you feel more at ease. He’d keep talking until he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, and then keep going, his smile growing wider every time you giggle.

And Ace’s teasing? Oh, he’d be a master of that fine line between making you laugh and making you blush. He’d lean in, smirking just enough to be charming, and say, “What’s this? A smile? I knew it was in there somewhere.” His playful comments would come with a wink and a laugh, just enough to make your face warm, but never enough to make you feel like you’re being put on the spot.

If he ever saw you growing quiet or noticed that hint of panic in your eyes, he’d immediately back off, switching to a softer tone and throwing in a quick “I’m just messing with ya” followed by that disarming grin of his.

Ace would be incredibly in tune with your reactions, watching for the tiniest signs that you’re feeling overwhelmed. The moment he picks up on it, he’d change gears—maybe suggesting a quiet spot on deck where you could sit together and watch the stars, or offering to take a walk to get some fresh air. He’d brush off the seriousness with a light, “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, alright?” The way he says it makes you feel safe, like it’s just you and him against the world, no expectations or worries allowed.

Ace is the definition of a warm hug in human form, so being a tactile person comes naturally to him. But when it comes to you, he’d show an impressive amount of restraint—not an easy feat for someone who’d usually throw an arm around a friend without thinking twice. Well, you’re not just his friend but his lover, obviously—but what I’m getting at us that he’s a pretty affectionate guy.

He’d start small, easing you into it with light touches: a friendly pat on the shoulder when you share a joke, a playful ruffle of your hair that would leave you smiling and maybe a little flustered. You’d catch the subtle glances he’d shoot you afterward, as if he’s silently checking, Was that okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? It’s endearing how he’s so in tune with your comfort level, his natural affection turned into a gentle dance of patience and care.

As time went on and your confidence around him grew, Ace would start to introduce more meaningful touches. He’d sneak in side hugs when you’re sitting together, leaning into you with that easygoing smile of his that made your heart race. And when the day finally came that you leaned into him on your own, whether it was out of exhaustion or just because you felt safe, the soft, proud look on his face would be priceless.

Ace would make a big deal out of it in the quietest way possible, his hand finding yours in a reassuring squeeze as if to say, Hey, look at you, being brave. Eventually, he’d graduate to full-on snuggling when you were comfortable, and the first time he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, you’d know just how deeply he cared.

And when social situations become too much—because let’s face it, Ace has a lot of friends and a magnetic personality that draws people in—he’d be the first to notice if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.

In those moments, he’d spring into action without making it obvious. He’d tell a ridiculously over-the-top story, one that would steal the spotlight from everyone else and have the whole room’s attention fixed on him, leaving you a moment to breathe.

Ace would always throw himself into being the distraction, whether it meant cracking jokes or reenacting a failed stunt that ended with him pretending to trip over his own feet. He’d shoot you a quick wink in the middle of it, as if to say, See? I’ve got you.

It’s not that he wanted to be the center of attention—okay, maybe a little, but only when it’s for you.

He’d take on the role of court jester, chaos-maker, or even reluctant hero if it meant taking the pressure off you for a while. If anyone questioned it, he’d brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, all while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

And if things really got too much, Ace wouldn’t hesitate to steer you away from the noise altogether, leaning in close and saying, “Let’s get outta here for a bit, yeah?” He’d lead you somewhere quieter, a hand on your arm or fingers interlaced with yours, the simple touch grounding you as you walked.

You’d both end up somewhere peaceful, maybe under the stars or by a flickering campfire, where he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and say, “You don’t have to explain. Just take your time.” And you would, with the steady thump of his heartbeat right next to yours, knowing he’d take on the world just to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

Ace would be your number one cheerleader, hyped beyond belief over every little victory you achieved. You managed to say something in a group conversation? He’d beam at you like you just solved world peace. “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” he’d shout, probably a bit louder than necessary, with that signature grin that lights up his entire face.

If you reached out to touch his arm or, heaven forbid, initiated a hug, there’d be a solid five minutes of him staring at you in delighted disbelief before breaking out into an excited, “Did you just—? You did! You did!”

What you might not notice is that whenever you step even half a toe out of your comfort zone, Ace is in the background punching the air with all the subtlety of an over-caffeinated kid at a birthday party.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing, like making eye contact with someone new, or a big step like saying a few words in front of the crew—Ace is celebrating it like you just discovered the One Piece itself.

He might look a bit unhinged to anyone passing by, but he’s never cared about that. You’re his person, and your wins are his wins. He’s just out here being the proudest guy alive, punching invisible foes and mouthing, That’s my partner!

And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the most priceless treasure in the world, and not just in the fleeting, pirate-wants-your-gold way. No, Ace’s gaze is full of warmth and genuine awe, the kind that makes you feel like you’re wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.

When you speak, whether it’s a confident statement or a hesitant mumble, Ace is all ears. His eyes would fix on you with this almost comically serious expression, nodding along like you’re revealing some ancient, life-altering secret.

You could point to the sky and say, “That’s the sky,” and he’d respond with a deep, earnest nod and a wide grin, “Exactly! I love that you noticed!” The rest of the crew might shake their heads and mutter things like, “Here they go again,” but Ace doesn’t care. If it matters to you, it matters to him—simple as that.

It doesn’t matter how mundane your observation is or how shyly you say it; to Ace, every word is golden. He’d hang on every syllable as if you were weaving a tale worthy of a bard’s song. You’d catch him repeating things you said back to you later, just to show he’d remembered, saying things like, “Oh yeah, like you said the other day, the sky really was a perfect blue.”

It’s almost ridiculous, but that’s Ace—he’d make you feel like every tiny thing you did was extraordinary, because in his eyes, it truly is.

SABO

Sabo is the calm breeze compared to the whirlwinds that are Luffy and Ace, which makes him the perfect blend of approachable and comforting.

With his natural ease and warm, diplomatic demeanor, you’d find yourself feeling more at peace around him sooner than you’d expect. Sabo’s the kind of person who could have a conversation with anyone, but when he’s with you, you’d feel like you’re the only one in the world that matters.

He’s just got this knack for making everything feel safe, like he’s a sturdy anchor in a storm. If you ever started to feel overwhelmed, Sabo would be the first to notice, with a quiet attentiveness that doesn’t scream I’m watching you but more like I’m here if you need me.

He’d be a master of subtlety, paying close attention to what made you nervous and what helped you open up, all without making it seem like he was analyzing you. You’d catch him making mental notes when you shifted uncomfortably or lit up at something specific. He’s probably like, “Write that down, write that down!” in his head.

And he’d use those observations to make your interactions more comfortable. If he noticed that certain topics or big crowds made you anxious, he’d steer conversations towards lighter things or find a reason to take a quiet walk somewhere less crowded.

Sabo would never rush you into sharing more than you were ready for. He understands that trust is built slowly, like adding logs to a fire, not dumping gasoline on it and hoping for the best.

Sabo would show his affection in the most considerate ways, taking into account what you’d find comforting rather than overwhelming. That being said, grand and dramatic gestures aren’t his style when it comes to you; he’d save those for his other acts of rebellion.

With you, he’d stick to smaller, more intimate actions. He’d brush his fingers across yours before holding your hand, always making sure it was welcome. He’d lean in a little closer when you’re talking, eyes fixed on you with that soft, attentive gaze of his that makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.

There’d be moments when he’d reach out with a light touch on your arm, or just the simple press of his shoulder against yours when you sat side by side, enough to let you know he was there but never too much to make you uncomfortable.

It’s like he has a sixth sense for what was just the right amount of closeness. And if you ever looked unsure or nervous, Sabo’s eyes would catch yours, full of warmth and encouragement, like he was silently saying, Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.

The patience he’d show would be unmatched; you could almost hear him mentally cheering you on even if you were just picking your words slowly or taking a deep breath before saying something important.

And the way he’d support you? Subtle but powerful. If you ever found yourself second-guessing or fumbling, he’d quietly step in to help redirect the conversation or offer a reassuring comment. “I think that’s a great point,” he’d say with genuine enthusiasm, giving you that extra boost of confidence.

And when you’d catch him watching you speak, the look in his eyes would always be one of admiration—never judgment, never pressure, just pure, patient support. And whether it’s a simple chat or a quiet walk together, Sabo’s presence would be your reminder that you’re valued, seen, and cherished, just as you are.

When it came to conversations, Sabo would be your guy for deep, meaningful talks, but with a healthy dose of humor to keep things light. He’d pick the coziest, quietest corner on the ship or at a café, leaning in with a thoughtful smile and saying, “Alright, you ready to hear some top-secret stories about Ace and Luffy’s greatest flops?” And he’d be off, recounting tales of Luffy trying to eat something he really, really shouldn’t have or Ace’s legendary nap times that ended in near-disaster.

His stories are designed not just to make you laugh, but to remind you that even these larger-than-life brothers were and still are total dorks sometimes. And before you know it, you’re easing into sharing a few of your own stories, prompted by his gentle encouragement and the safety his presence provided.

If there was ever a moment where you hinted at wanting to join in on an activity or step outside your comfort zone, Sabo would light up like someone just told him there was free cake on deck. But instead of jumping up and down and looking crazy, Sabo’s celebration would be the dignified, internal kind.

Picture a boardroom in his mind filled with 10 tiny Sabos all jumping out of their chairs, high-fiving each other, and throwing confetti in the air. On the outside, he’d just offer you that calm, reassuring grin and a simple, “You’ve got this. And if not, we’ll laugh about it later, yeah?”

He’d be your biggest silent cheerleader, always ready with a patient hand to guide you or a subtle nudge if you needed it. If you wanted to join in on a game or join a conversation but hesitated, Sabo would seamlessly include you, making it feel natural and not like he was pointing out your shyness.

He’d say things like, “Hey, I think Y/N would be perfect for this—what do you think?” and then shoot you a wink that says, See? Not so bad, right? And when you took that first step, whether it was a comment or a hesitant laugh at a joke, Sabo’s inner cheering squad would be losing their collective minds.

So while Ace might be punching the air and Luffy would probably shout, “You did it!” at full volume, Sabo would play it cool—at least on the outside. But don’t be fooled. The minute he see’s you trying something new or making a move outside your comfort zone, those 10 tiny Sabos in his head would be throwing a full-on carnival, complete with fireworks and dancing.

And he’d just keep giving you that look that said, You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Because to him, you’re always worth celebrating, no matter what.

If there’s one thing Sabo doesn’t tolerate, it’s someone messing with the people he cares about. So if he spotted you feeling uncomfortable or noticed someone trying to be intimidating, he’d swoop in with the subtlety of a master diplomat. Sabo wouldn’t make a scene, but instead, he’d redirect the situation like an absolute pro.

Maybe he’d throw out a well-timed joke, ask a question that shifts the focus, or suddenly develop an urgent need for your opinion on something random, like, “Hey, didn’t you say you know a lot about… apples?” The offender would be left blinking, and you’d find yourself in a new conversation before you even realized what happened. Crisis averted, all thanks to Sabo’s suave social maneuvering.

And then there’s Sabo’s sweeter side—his covert operation of affection. He knows that grand, dramatic proclamations can sometimes make you want to dive head-first into the nearest bush, so he’s perfected the art of subtle, heartfelt gestures.

He’d leave little handwritten notes tucked in places he knows you’ll find, maybe in your favorite book or slipped under your plate at breakfast. Each note would be filled with the kind of genuine, thoughtful words that would make your heart do an embarrassing little flip. They’d say things like, I know you’re stronger than you think, and I can’t wait for the world to see it, too, or The stars were beautiful last night, but not as much as seeing you smile today.

And don’t even get started on the letters. Oh, the letters. Sabo would write you these intricate, beautifully crafted notes that read like they came straight from the heart of a poet who’s just returned from a victorious battle.

He could have just finished a day of intense Revolutionary Army missions, covered in dust and exhaustion, but you’d still get a note that starts with, Hey, you. I’m thinking about you, and ends with some metaphor about how your presence makes the world brighter, even when he’s knee-deep in chaos.

You’d find trinkets, too—maybe a small charm he found that reminded him of you or a pressed flower from somewhere he thought was pretty. It’s the little things that would make your day and remind you that, no matter what chaos he’s wrapped up in with the Revolutionary Army, you’re always on his mind. And when you’d look up at him, cheeks flushed from finding yet another one of his notes or small gifts, Sabo would just grin that charming, lopsided grin and say, “Did you find it? Good. I meant every word.”

He’s protective, thoughtful, and romantic in a way that feels like it’s tailored just for you. And even if he’s balancing the weight of revolutions and strategic plans, Sabo makes sure you know that you’re not just part of his life—you’re the best part.

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dazzlerwriting · 2 days ago

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cowboy take me away

j.seresin x reader

pictures not mine, credits to pinterest

1k words

summary: sort of inspired by “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks. (great song you should check it out!) what was supposed to be a celebratory night, turns into reader sitting alone at a bar in texas. that is until a blonde aviator, visiting home, notices her.

Warnings: fluff! reader has not great friends. talks about an ex boyfriend. Alcohol consumption. Jake Seresin being a charming man? She/her pronouns are used and reader is said to be shorter than jake! no use of y/n!

authors note: first fic!! lmk what you think!

Sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin, Texas was not how you thought your Saturday was going to go. You had recently graduated from University of Texas in Austin so you thought you would be out with your boyfriend and friends, celebrating the fact that you were finally going to go to the University of California San Diego to get your masters in Educational Studies. But you just broke up with your boyfriend due to his extreme lack of interest in your relationship. He literally shrugged when you told him it was over. On top of that your friends seemingly forgot that you had plans, go figure.

So now you were sitting in some bar, under the soft disco lighting, with cowboy hats everywhere, fiddling with the straw in your drink, wondering how it could all go sour so fast.

“Is this seat taken?” a strong voice with a southern drawl asked. You whipped your head so fast you thought you could see the looney tunes birds flying, but no, what you saw was a man with sandy blonde hair and eyes that could rival the trees in the Ozarks. “Oh! Um N-no. No, it’s not.” He took his seat with a devilish smirk and waved down the bartender to order another drink for himself. While doing so you missed the part where he ordered you another drink. You were too busy roaming your eyes from the black Stetson that sat on top of his head, to the shirt that said “US Navy” & “H_ngm_n” on the pocket, and finally to the steel-toed cowboy boots that sat on his feet.

You heard a cough, and that’s when you realized he had been talking to you and was a bit closer now. Get it together he just asked a simple question and you just got out of a relationship, you scolded yourself. “Sorry, sorry what did you say?”

The smirk on his face just grows a bit bigger while replying, “I was just asking why a pretty girl like you looks so defeated in the most lively bar in all of Austin?”

Great. He’s charming and astute apparently. Now you can either lie to this very handsome man, or you can become the stereotypical person who dumps everything at the bar. Saved by the bell, or bartender in this case, because he delivers the drinks to you both, making the smirk on this man’s face slide to a polite smile, and also giving you a sense of reprieve at this moment.

“I’m Jake by the way, sorry if the question was too intense for an introduction. Can’t help but be curious.” You give him your name and the smirk is back way too quickly. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied, his smirk turning to a kind smile. “Does that work on all of the girls?” you snap back quickly. He looks a bit taken aback by the question, but that doesn’t deter him one bit, “Wouldn’t know, did it work on you?”

Sighing you finally turn to face him fully, taking in his form once again. After the day you’ve had, you decide you’ll entertain him for a bit, “Ya know what cowboy, it might’ve but don’t let that get to your head. We don’t need that cowboy hat to fall off.” Jake takes you in for a minute and gives you a smile that might be the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a bit. “So you gonna tell me why you’re lookin’ all sad in the middle of this bar?” he asks you once again, and you finally decide you need to at least tell someone or you might cry. So with your head down and while fidgeting with your hands, you tell him, “I just got accepted into the master’s program I applied for and to celebrate I was gonna meet my boyfriend and friends here. As you can see neither are here. I broke up with him and my friends all forgot or something, who knows.” You finally take a breath and look back up to see him looking at you with the slightest hint of concern.

He shakes his head and laughs gently. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order for the graduate, and for getting rid of the boyfriend who didn’t appreciate the beauty in his life.” With a soft smile, he tips his beer towards you and you do the same.

He abruptly stands up and holds out his hand, a silent question for a dance. You take it with a quizzical look on your face, and he drags you to the middle of the dance floor; now that you’re there, you look around and see that this place has cleared out a bit since you first got here. He looks down at you with a bit of adoration and says “A congratulatory dance is a necessity.”

He grabs your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, and it’s at this moment you realize that you would much rather be here, wrapped in this stranger’s arms, dancing to “Cowboy Take Me Away” than in the silence that your ex would’ve given. Looking at Jake with a smirk on your face, “The song is real fitting if you ask me, cowboy.” Your fingers are playing with the soft hair at the bottom of his head, and for a second it’s like a cat reacting to someone scratching their head. You’d be shocked if he didn’t start purring.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies with a soft chuckle. Looking into each other’s eyes, you stand on your toes, and you both lean in… but of course, nothing would go as planned. His cowboy hat hits you right in the forehead.

You pull back from each other and both break out into a fit of giggles. Jake looks at you with a soft smile, tips his cowboy hat back, and leans in again. This time your lips meet in a delicate kiss, his lips are soft and you can smell a hint of cologne on him. Warmth fills your cheeks, the kiss lasting only a matter of seconds, but it's just enough time for everything around you to disappear. When the kiss is over, your foreheads meet and you both continue swaying under the reflected disco lighting. Maybe tonight is way better than you originally planned.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman imagine

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salternateunreality2 · 3 days ago

Text

AGSZC when their SO/roommate/friend is sick with a stomach bug:

Angeal:

Hon? Can I get you anything? I have leftover bones to make stock, it may be a bit (24 hours minimum), but that's the best thing for you. Here, have some vaporub. No, I don't care that you don't have clogged sinuses. Rub it on your elbow to stimulate the healing nerve. Yes, it makes perfect sense.

You don't need fancy drugs, chew on this ginger root. Have some tea. My mother swears by these potato skins, put them in your socks. No, not my biological mother, she was a scientist; the mother in my soul. No, not like Sephiroth's, she recommends bloodshed.

No, it's not my fault I save any and all food scraps; you know your stomach is more delicate than mine. If you're concerned, leave it for me and I will eat it.

Sephiroth:

Loyally hangs around looking like a sad wet kitten on your behalf. He doesn't know what to do, because no one mothered him as a child. He won't get sick, he's certain, so he WOULD be happy to sit there and rub your back while you throw up and cry, but somehow he always gets an important call as soon as the horrible retching noises start.

He does come back in, calls Angeal, and follows only his most sensible directions. He's happy to get whatever you need, put a wet cloth on your forehead, and SIT THERE STARING AT YOU UNBLINKINGLY BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOO.

Cloud:

Uh, sorry you're feeling bad, um...*dumps a huge pile of as many snacks and drinks as he can afford outside your door* Let me know if you, uh, need anything.

*Hangs around, but not very close, checking every now and then to make sure you're still alive*

Zack:

If he's not also violently ill because he ate more of whatever it was or got more up close and personal with whoever was sick...

He's popping in every 5 seconds until you beg him to stop, at which point he calls Angeal for recipes, makes EVERY SINGLE THING recommended, then offers them all to you. You will be eating soup and ginger root for weeks.

He's also surprisingly patient and tender, once he gets past that first round of excitement. He cleans your bucket, bathes your face, feeds you crackers, and inevitably comes down with it because he can't stop cuddling you to make you feel better.

Genesis:

*screeching sounds of his boots burning rubber as he flees at the first retching noise*

He calls you on the phone, asks if you're ok, talks you through things, reads you bedtime stories, sings to you, orders a special medical basket from the most expensive boutique nursing center, hires a nurse for you, and STAYS THE HELL AWAY.

If you cry and say you miss him so much, he might (might) show up like this:

and hold your hand. Because he's a sweetheart like that.

#ff7 #sephiroth #cloud strife #zack fair #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #emetophobia #not really but mentioned stuff

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ceasarslegion · 2 days ago

Note

Please tell me about the guy in your college dorm who got scurvy, I love a good modern day scurvy story. Like bro, have a delightful lemon-parm chicken

So in uni I lived in a co-ed dorm building where we had single-person rooms and shared a common room, washrooms/showers, laundry, and a kitchen. We also had a dining hall that we could purchase meal plans from (which i also had all 4 years, because i juggled full time school and 2 jobs at the same time. I did NOT have the time to cook for myself and I would not have done so in that kitchen to be frank). The building was split up into a bunch of different houses which we took personality quizzes to get assigned to in order to limit the amount of conflicts that would happen in this living situation. I was put in the smallest house (there were only 20 of us) and it was full of real chill like-minded people who liked to watch movies with me. This guy was the next door away from me, but wasn't my immediate next door neighbour because the stairwell broke up our house down the middle.

He was the house shut-in. He didn't really join any of the hang outs in the common room, or go out clubbing with us, he just kinda shut himself in his dorm room and never came out. Eventually we stopped slipping invitations to things under his door like we did with everyone else because there was no point. But I saw him in the dining hall and I saw him swiping a meal card a few times so I knew he was on the meal plan, meaning i KNEW he had access to fruit and veggies and even just like, juice. The food wasn't good but you had all the opportunities in the world to make it good FOR you, if that makes sense.

One of my jobs at this point was as an overnight security guard for an apartment building. I would come back around 4am and then crash out until 11 or 12 and then go to my afternoon and night classes. This is relevant because I was coming back into the building after a shift once in full uniform while he was sitting on the front steps and looking like he was hungover to the point of near-unconsciousness. I ask if he's feeling okay, if he needs anything, he waves me off and says he just needs some air. I'm like okay well, you know which doors mine if you change your mind bud.

He was an enigma who never spoke to us so I waved the situation off as too much college partying or something.

Over the next few days this becomes a common sight among everyone, who says they would also come back from their part time jobs or outings to him nearly passed out on a courtyard bench or something, a few people said they heard someone throwing up in our floor's shared bathroom.

About a week later I come back from my shift as usual and crash in bed until noon, expecting to wake up and go to my classes as usual. I grab my school bag and throw my regular coat and boots on and walk to class. I liked to sit in the back of that lecture hall because that prof had a rule that you were allowed to eat in his class as long as you sat in the last 3 rows, so I'd bring my breakfast and coffee in one of the dining hall to go boxes. I did not end up eating my breakfast or drinking my coffee.

In fact I did not make any notes on my laptop.

In fact, the house discord server blew up while I was asleep.

This guy, this fucking guy, had gone to our don (RA, basically) and told her he needed to go to the ER and then passed out on her couch. She doesn't have a car because none of us did, so everyone who was there and awake ended up dragging him to the closest hospital that was a few blocks away from campus on foot. Why they did not call an ambulance or at least an Uber is beyond me, but panic does weird things to people.

Reading through this in the corner of my eye before class starts, I have forgotten about class entirely. I have forgotten about my breakfast and my coffee. A few people were asking if they should ask for the don's master key and wake me up, thinking that i might have training in these things from what my job was (i did), and then others shut them down saying "no, let him sleep. He gets home at 4:30 in the morning" (WHY DIDNT YOU WAKE ME UP I WOULDNT HAVE CARED IF YOU SAID SOMEONE WAS HAVING A MEDICAL EMERGENCY. I COULDVE AT LEAST KEPT YOU ALL CALM AND DELEGATED TASKS)

I send a message in just saying "guys I'm up now what is going on" with an @everyone attached.

Instantly get "several people are typing." That's never a good sign.

So this guy was in the ER for hours getting IV-fed. Because he had scurvy. And they had to vitamin C infuse him. Because he hadn't eaten a single fruit or vegetable or anything derived from a plant the entire school year. He got SCURVY. IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2019.

Bro eat a fruit. EVER?? But he just didn't. He just never did. He had fucking scurvy. He passed out and had bleeding gums and his teeth almost fell out. Because he had scurvy.

He did not come back the next school year because his parents pulled him out of the dorms on the basis that he couldn't be trusted to take care of himself after that incident. And I do not blame them at all. Ma'am your kid can't be trusted to eat one (1) orange all year.

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nickeverdeen · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii, I have a request for Caitlyn from Arcane x fem!reader whose struggling a lot socially headcannon / imagine (I still don't really understand the difference so feel free to decide).

Also since this isn't the first request I'm making, (I was the third Caitlyn matchup you did if I'm not wrong) do you take emoji anons? If so can I be 💐 anon?

Anyways enjoy your break

Hi, cariño! So basically imagine is something like a story and headcannon are points. For example I chose headcannons for this. And you can totally be my 💐 anon!

——————————

Caitlyn x socially struggling fem!reader hcs

Caitlyn is a wonderful listener, letting you express your social anxieties without ever judging or interrupting

Whenever she senses you’re nervous in public, she’ll give your hand a gentle squeeze, grounding you instantly

Caitlyn never pushes you into situations you’re uncomfortable with, always letting you take things at your own speed

She’s very intuitive, and if anyone makes you uncomfortable, she’ll politely steer the conversation or whisk you away so she can deal with them

Caitlyn’s perceptive and realizes that social settings can be overwhelming, so she never expects you to be someone you’re not

At gatherings, she’ll find quieter spots with you so you both can enjoy the evening without the crowd

If you’re unsure about social cues, she’ll gently guide you, helping you understand people’s reactions without making you feel self-conscious

When you’re together, she has a way of making you feel like it’s just the two of you, no matter where you are

She understands that social anxiety takes time to overcome and will never rush you or make you feel like a burden

A hand on your back, an arm around your shoulder—she’ll always be there with these small touches to keep you at ease

Every step you take socially, no matter how small, is a reason for her to celebrate and show how proud she is of you

Caitlyn will introduce you to new experiences but always checks if you’re comfortable first

She’s perceptive enough to know when you’re struggling and will step in to gracefully steer conversations or provide an easy exit

She’s always checking in with you, making sure you feel safe and respected, especially in social settings

If the environment becomes too much, she’ll find a way to bring you somewhere quiet, no questions asked

Caitlyn is quick to shut down any hurtful comments or disrespectful behavior toward you

In private, she’ll gently ask about your thoughts and opinions, helping you build confidence in expressing yourself

Caitlyn will subtly offer tips on social situations, knowing you might need guidance without making it obvious

She’s tactful about keeping you involved in conversation without putting the spotlight on you

Caitlyn genuinely admires your resilience and bravery, even if it’s just showing up to a social event

She lets you navigate social situations on your own but is close by if you need her

Caitlyn is perceptive and respects your social boundaries, helping you balance being present with avoiding overwhelm

In public, she’ll be discreet yet affectionate, making you feel loved without drawing attention

She’ll suggest quieter dates, like walks in the park or reading in a cozy café, where you can enjoy time together without social pressure

After you successfully handle a social event, she’s the first to congratulate you, making you feel seen and accomplished

She knows when you’re feeling drained and will offer to wrap things up early without you having to say a word

When making plans, Caitlyn always considers what will be most comfortable and enjoyable for you

Caitlyn’s affectionate but knows you feel most comfortable with private, intimate moments rather than public displays

After socializing, she’s there to talk it out, reassure you, and help you unwind from any lingering stress

Caitlyn helps you see the strengths in being a quiet, observant person, building your confidence in who you are

If others ever misinterpret your shyness as aloofness, she’ll step in to set the record straight

Caitlyn can sense when you’re on edge and will find a way to help you relax without drawing attention

She’s steadfast in her support, reminding you that you don’t need to change to be loved and appreciated

She’s always putting your comfort first, from choosing seating arrangements to suggesting quieter venues

Caitlyn encourages you to be proud of who you are, reminding you that your uniqueness is what makes you special in her eyes

#request #headcanons #arcane x reader #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn x reader #romantic caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader

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everythingmp3 · 2 days ago

Text

giving in

adult!Van x fem!reader

the fact that you work for Van makes your dynamic a bit complicated - you both keep flirting, but still, you don’t know if you should act upon your feelings. then, one night, you find yourself in desperate need of company and end up at her place.

authors note: this started out as a comfort thing but turned into sth more erotic, so it’s a mixed vibe! I had fun with it, so I hope you enjoy <3 (around 5k)

warnings: smut (reader receiving), minors dni

it was around 10 pm as you wandered down the street and wondered where you could go besides back home.

you’d had an exhausting day and wanted nothing less than to return to a dark, empty apartment. the night air was punishing, freezing cold, wind hitting your face from seemingly all directions, so you were desperate for comfort, for warmth, for anything to reawaken your spirits.

you stopped by a corner, debating what to do, and felt the sudden urge to call someone. there was only one person you could think of: Van.

there were others you could have considered, but you paid them no mind, you wanted nobody else’s company but hers. the one thing that made you hesitate, was that you worked for her. it wasn’t an intense job, you just helped her out at the store about twice a week - routine work like stacking shelves and cleaning up - but over the few months you’d known her, you’d quickly developed a close bond.

it only took few days of knowing her for Van to start joking around with you, to bring you coffee when she got one for herself, to remember things youd told her and inquire about them the next time you were there. she made you watch certain classics you’d never seen before and made you report back to her, she got into heated discussions about favorite actors with you, remembered your preferences and made you little lists with films you might like.

it was clear that she liked you but you weren’t sure yet if her feelings ran as deeply as yours did because your crush on her only got worse each time you saw her.

over time it kept happening more and more when you were around her that you found yourself checking her out - when she reached up to get something from a higher shelf and her shirt hiked up, revealing the skin above her hips, when you stood close enough to her to see all of her freckles clearly, when she talked to customers and you watched her gesture wildly with her hands, her fingers always a point of focus for you.

you got the sense that she looked at you in a similar light, there was some tension there, and at times you’d almost been brave enough to ask her out but in the end you were always too nervous.

you had no idea if she had caught on by then and felt like you were giving yourself away by calling her at that hour, but your pride couldn’t keep you from reaching out; it was cold and you were lonely and you wanted to see her. it was simple. instinct.

when Van picked up, you tentatively asked her if you could come over for a second because you were close by, trying your best to sound nonchalant about it. she answered surprisingly fast "yeah, sure, come by!", and for a second you wondered why she didn’t push back more, perhaps hoping that it was her way of giving you a sign: that you weren’t alone in your desire to spend more time together.

so, about a fifteen minute walk later, you stepped up the stairs to her apartment.

Van immediately got up from the couch and walked over to greet you, pulling you into an embrace, tightening her arms after a second as as she said "jesus, you’re shaking, you’re dressed way too thin" her hands rubbing up and down your back, firmly, to warm you up a bit. you had to be careful not to rest your head against her shoulder in a way that would have felt too intimate as she held you, still, the desire was there, it always was.

"yeah, it was a bit brutal out there.." you admitted, breathing in her familiar, soothing scent, soaking up the sudden rush of having her body heat infused into your system - you could have stayed like that for much longer but Van pulled away and looked at you, searching your face for other signs of discomfort, pain. "okay, come on, let me make you a tea, that should help. I have this speciality, you know" she said, a promising grin as she walked over to the kitchen and told you to sit by the counter.

you took off your jacket and got comfortable as you watched her put on the kettle, smiling to yourself as you felt the exhaustion from the day slowly falling off, replaced by the joy of being in her cozy space, being tended to by her, even just in that small way.

as she moved around the kitchen, you told her about your day and recalled some absurd moments that might amuse her, a few quiet laughs from her here and there, little comments like "damn, okay".

a few minutes later, Van said "here, this is the trick, you add some honey and some oat milk. it’s really nice, should warm you up for good, here drink" and handed you over the finished product, smiling and watching intently as you took the first sip, without any protest or skeptical looks, a signal from you: that youd drink or eat pretty much anything she prepared for you, without protest.

you nodded as you put the cup back down on the table and said "yeah this perfect, thank you". the hot, sweet liquid spread through you in a way that loosened you up, made your face glow from the steam. you let out a deep, shuddering breath of relief, which was loud enough for her to hear and be endeared by.

"come on, let’s go sit down, get a bit more comfortable" Van said, while going over to her couch. "you sure? I mean I don’t wanna keep you up or anything" you asked, unsure if she was just being nice or actually wanted you there. she sat down and gave you an amused look "keep me up? it’s 10:30, I am not that old yet, I can handle staying up til midnight, sweetheart"

you rolled your eyes a bit and drank a bit more of the honeyed tea before walking over and sitting down next to her, conscious of the space between you, keeping it bigger than you actually wanted to,

"so, did a date ditch you or something? or why did you call me while walking around outside" she teased a bit, which you immediately denied, "no, you were actually my first choice, believe it or not", your tone a bit too sincere, her attention suddenly sharper, her gaze not moving away from your face as she adjusted her position and turned her body more towards you.

"well, I don’t know what that says about you and your social life, but I’m glad you thought of me. I didn’t think you’d feel like seeing more of me after listening to my rants earlier this week...". you had to laugh then, recalling a long tangent shed gone on about some film shed seen at the cinema and absolutely despised. "oh no, that’s very entertaining, I am never bothered by any of it" you said, leaning a bit closer too, smiling at her, noticing her scent again, only made more intoxicating by your proximity to her, the way her face looked in the dim light, her hair shimmering lightly.

for a few more minutes you sat there and chatted, the way you always did, instantly back to your natural back and forth, which somehow felt even nicer while relaxing on the couch together instead of standing around in her store - there was an intimacy to your exchange that wasnt usually there, perhaps also because it was late and the darkness gave you a feeling of privacy, that lent itself to letting your guards down a bit.

for a moment you were both quiet, just listening to the faint sound of cars outside, watching the candlelight dance on the walls, until you felt her eyes on the side of your face and turned to look at her.

"what?" you asked, quiet, curious.

Van cocked her head and eyed you for a second longer before saying "oh its just-" she stopped herself, but you insisted "come on, tell me". so, she went on, her tone unusually soft and earnest, "you know, a lot of the time, you’re so fun and easy to talk to, you get this sparkle, its really infectious, and then and hour later I will see you sitting somewhere and looking so.. I don’t know. tired. exhausted. same thing happened just now, and I never wanna overstep, really, but I do worry sometimes. about you."

her words struck you at your core, it was out of nowhere, her revelation: that she had read you exactly right, without you being aware that you were that transparent to her. you were not used to it, at all, being observed that closely, being seen in that almost painfully accurate way, least of all by her. you had been so focused on paying attention to her, that you had forgotten that she was able to the same thing, that she might have also thrown looks your way when you hadnt been aware. there was also a pleasure to it, being caught off guard, being exposed in a way, unable to hide from her.

"you worry?" you asked, almost unsure if you’d heard right, your expression slightly fragile then, vulnerable. Van nodded and kept looking at you, "yeah, kinda. I mean, it wasn’t for no reason that you came here, right."

you couldn’t deny it, "well. yeah I did have a pretty bad day”

Van touched your arm then, to soothe, but it didnt just soothe you, it thrilled you. she kept her hand there, caressing you lightly as you looked at her and said "I mean, you’re kinda..." you started, which got her attention, so she said "yes, go on", her touch still distracting you.

"you’re the only person I’ve felt at ease around lately. that’s why I called you." you admitted.

Van seemed touched, almost shy as she said "good." she realized how that sounded and corrected herself, a quiet nervous laugh, "I mean, not good that you don’t have others but...", you smiled then and reached out to touch her too in response, your hand on her knee, a hint of something in her eyes then.

"I really like you, Van. I hope you can tell" there was weight to your words. you wanted her to know. you were tired of pretending she didnt mean more to you than being your employer. you needed her to see and she did. left her at a loss for words, your sincerity, her eyes suddenly completely soft. you doubled down and took her hand while whispering "isn’t it obvious?".

she nodded, her voice low, her fingers lacing through yours. "I mean, yes, it is. I just... don’t really understand why". that baffled you. her inability to see her own appeal. "you’re funny. you’re kind to me. you’re beautiful". she flushed then, before she moved closer to you and took your face in her hands. you held your breath. a charged pause. both of you searching each other’s eyes, an urgent silent agreement before she gave in and kissed you.

there were many things Van could have said but the only way she knew how to show you what she felt then, was by kissing you the way she hadnt kissed anyone in years: eager, passionate, her lips so soft but pressed hard against yours as you both sighed at the same time, overwhelmed by by the sudden confirmation: she wants me. she wants me badly.

you held onto her and ran your hands down her back, under her shirt, to feel more of her, as she pressed you back against the couch and felt you open your mouth for her, immediately begging her to turn the kiss deeper, a moan from her as your tongues touched, both of you instantly addicted to each others taste, that animal thing of two bodies fully in tune, fitting together at a primal level.

you made out in a way that made it clear you had both dreamed of it, many times, going back in for more and more, kissing turning into devouring very quickly, her way of holding your face as she kissed you enough to make your whole body burn up, the mix of tenderness and possessiveness. she kissed you more intensely than you were used to from others, at times just breathing into your open mouth and soaking up the tension for a few seconds, before resuming the kiss.

each time you separated it only took a split second for you to pull her closer again, leaving you both breathless and dizzy as you shifted on the couch, grabbed each other all over. there was a thrill to the fact that she had years and years of experience on you, that she knew what she was doing, a security and ease to her way of handling you, like you were hers already.

a few minutes into kissing, you grew needy and started tugging at her clothes, so she pulled back and watched you breathe heavy with a hint of a smile, your hands still on her, unwilling to let go now that you had her. "let me take care of you, okay?" she uttered, while her hands traveled lower on your body, grabbing your sides as she leaned closer to your ear and whispered "tell me what you need..." one hand on your neck then, a shiver down your spine.

you whispered "can we go to bed.." your voice hoarse with need. "you sure?" she asked, still caressing you, so you grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her cheek and sighed "yes. please Van" your breath hot against her skin, her grip on you tightening at the sound of your begging, the feeling of you almost climbing onto her lap, your eagerness hitting her right at her core - it was the final thing she needed to hear in order to abandon all restraint and pull you up to lead you to her room.

the moment you were inside, you both looked at each other and reached out, pulling each other close to kiss again while fumbling with your clothes. she pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your neck feverishly as she relieved you of your bra too, a gasp as you felt the heat of her palms on your exposed chest, a faint moan as she squeezed your soft flesh, bit down on your shoulder lightly, unsure how to handle the sudden all-consuming hunger for you.

"let me see you" you pleaded and pulled off her shirt too, after which you both wordlessly agreed to undress down to your underwear, stumbling to the bed afterwards and crawling up to get comfortable, her on her back as you climbed over her and settled on her in a way that made her thigh push up against your core, a whine as you leaned down to kiss her, your hips grinding down as she kept her hands on your lower back and moaned from the sensation of having you pleasure yourself like that, the faint dampness she could feel on her leg where you moved up and down.

you struggled to kiss her back then, which made her smile up at you, deeply pleased by your pathetic sighs and whines, whispering “you’re so pretty like this”, her hands on your waist.

Van leaned up to kiss your neck, a gasp as she did this, that made her crave more sounds from you, leaving open-mouthed kisses all the way down your pulse point, working you up before she moved her face to your tits, a guttural hum of pleasure both from her and you as she started sucking on your sensitive skin, your eyes shut as you felt yourself grow more and more desperate for her, your underwear soaked from grinding down on her thigh. you were almost scared of how far she would push you, how hard you would unravel for her, after months of waiting for it. part of you wanted, it to be wrecked by her.

Van licked over your tits in broad strokes, sloppy and eager, as you tried to suppress the moans she was drawing out of you, squirming on top of her, until you eventually wanted more and said "please... I need you." which she didn’t need to be told twice. you climbed off her, shaking with want, and switched places, so she could pull off your ruined underwear. afterwards, she got settled between your legs and almost moaned from the sight of you spread open for her like that.

Van seemed to be in awe as she gently ran a finger over your cunt, teasing you a bit, a brief touch to your clit, parting you, hearing you whimper from it as you braced yourself against the mattress.

"hmm" she hummed to herself, almost salivating as you shifted your hips a bit, "you really need this, don’t you?" she whispered, looking up at you then as she kept her finger running up and down your folds, not doing much yet but already leaving you a mess. "yeah.. I haven’t let anyone touch me since we met, I just wanted you" you confessed, which made her pause her movements for a second and stare at you.

"hm. I should make the wait worth it then" she said and used her free hand to keep your legs open as she pushed two fingers inside of you. the moment she did this, Van sighed "god.." as she felt just how wet youd gotten for her, her fingers instantly drenched in your cum, the slick heat of your cunt a heavenly feeling to her. she slowly pushed herself in until she was knuckle-deep, almost sick with want from the sight of it.

she gauged your reaction, turned on when all you could do was moan her name and let your head fall back, the feeling of her fingers in your throbbing cunt almost too much to bear at first. your sounds, the way you felt, the way you looked then, your lips parted, your neck bent, your tits on display for her, it made Van grow possessive, deeply so. there was an intensity to her that few people ever got to see as she started fucking you, watching her own hand for a second to see her fingers pumping in and out of you, slowly at first, building up a rhythm, a distinct force to her movements.

"fuck... that feels so good" you moaned and made eye contact as she nodded and kept going, her other hand gripping your knee, “such an angel for me, hm” she praised as she hit you at the exact right spot in you, your face twisted in pleasure, gripping the sheets, a stifled, barely audible "god" as you felt your whole lower half on fire from it, a deeply pleasurable ache where her fingers kept applying pressure to your walls, fucking you faster then. the thing you realized, as you got soaked in a way you never had before, was that your insane attraction to her made it feel a thousand times better than you were used to - your own touches or the touches of past lovers did not compare to it: having her, the woman you’d wanted for months, had constantly dreamed of and jerked off to, finally give you what you needed, it made you feel a kind of pleasure that almost scared you for a second, sweating and panting and close to crying for her as she kept up the pace and added even more pressure to it, her fingers curling up inside of you in a way that made you black out for a second.

Van herself was close to coming apart from the way you took her, the way you sounded and looked as you surrendered to her, fully. she guided you a bit as she felt you grow erratic and cooed "shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby", the unexpected "baby" enough to make you moan even louder, almost drenching her whole hand in your juices at that point, your cunt pulsing like you had a second heartbeat.

you were desperate for release then, so you fucked yourself in a way by moving your hips to match her movements, her fingers a bit more still then as she hummed in approval and uttered "yeah that’s it. god.. look at you" her voice cracked with lust as she watched you push yourself down onto her fingers again and again, her angle adjusted to help you with hitting your weak spot, her free hand grabbing your chest to tease your nipple, as one of your own hands wandered down to your clit, to rub yourself and really get off.

"don’t stop, please" you begged Van as you kept your fingers on your clit, applying intense pressure, while hers kept fucking into you, wet sounds from the mess between your legs echoing through the room, which only turned you both on even more. “you’re close, hm?", she sighed, her own face and chest flushed, her hair messed up, her body unbearably hot to you as she sat there in her underwear between your legs and had her way with you.

you whined in response "yeah.. fuck I´m gonna come..", your hips bucking up aggressively, you biting down on your lip to prevent a pathetically loud cry as you felt the orgasm spreading from your core through your whole body in one violent shock wave - Van kept you in place and whispering sweet things as you desperately rubbed yourself and felt your walls clench around her fingers, her also moaning at that point, unsure how to survive seeing you come for her like that, hard and uninhabited and all hers. she fucked you all the way through your high, her eyes roaming over your whole body, the way your abdomen tightened, the way your muscles tensed up, a vision of pure erotic perfection to her, her own cunt soaked from it.

Van refused to move her fingers out of you until you collapsed a shaking mess, whispering "fuck...", rendered helpless by the aftershocks that were still going through you.

she stayed between your legs as she licked your cum off her fingers, which gave her a craving for more. "can I taste you. please" she asked, "can you handle a bit more?", desperation dripping from her tone, so lifted your head, gave her a nod and said "yeah okay..", a bit scared of your reaction but unwilling to deny her, eager to take whatever she was willing to give.

Van lovingly kissed your thighs for a few seconds and adjusted your position a bit before she pushed her face up against your soaked cunt, breathing in your scent as she moved her tongue up and down your still sensitive folds, before swirling it over you swollen clit.

you were still so raw that it felt overwhelming in the best way. you wrapped your legs around her head and held her in place, your hands in her hair, a moan from her as you let her push you towards another orgasm, fast. she was obsessed with how needy for her you were, the way you were squirming and crying, the way you refused to let her move an inch, the way you moaned "yes.. just like that". she licked all over you in intense strokes, pushed her tongue in deep, and sucked on your clit until you came against her mouth, weak from your first orgasm but not too weak to savor it, an almost religious experience, how utterly flooded by pleasure your body was.

you let out a satisfied "god..." as you loosened your grip on Vans head and laid there completely spent and relaxed, hot all over, your blood rushing, your face glowing.

Van smiled to herself, her chin glistening, even in the dark, and placed a few sloppy, heartfelt kisses all the way up your stomach, out of breath and high on your taste. you tangled your hands in her hair again and tugged lightly, blissed out, both of you still buzzing with desire as you pulled her closer. she gave you a lingering kiss to your forehead and she traced your soft skin, waiting for you to come back to your senses again, dazed and satisfied by her own sudden eagerness, after years of thinking she had grown numb in that regard.

Van broke the silence first by saying "I knew this before of course but. you are so fucking hot... jesus" shaking her head in disbelief as her mind was still clouded over with the way you had reacted to her every touch.

you smiled at her then, your gaze roaming her pretty face from up close as you played with a front piece of her hair and whispered "you are too. I’ve never finished like that before..". she smiled and cocked her head "no?" visibly pleased by that confession, "no" you reaffirmed and absentmindedly caressed her arm, "it’s different when you have been dreaming about it for weeks and weeks, I guess. when youre obsessed with someone", you said, purposely wording it that way, which made her blush and hold you tighter. "you’re a sweet-talker, huh. but I agree, I haven’t felt like this in... god I don’t know. forever" her tone almost wistful, emotional as she held you in her arms, the skin to skin contact endlessly soothing, a sensation you both wanted to sink into forever.

you clung to her and closed your eyes for a second, until she said "stay here tonight, okay?", which made you stare at her with a sparkle in your eyes and nod, "yes. I’d love that."

"you want a shower?" Van suggested as she sat up on the bed. "yeah, if you join" you responded, nudging her leg with yours.

so, a minute later, you both stood under the hot stream of the shower, face to face, you teasing her a bit by soaping her body up for her and letting your hands linger on her chest, giving her wet shoulder a kiss, whispering to her that you couldnt wait to return the favor. Van stood there with her eyes closed, letting you hold her from behind and said "god. where the fuck did you come from, huh" as she tried to process how heavily you were coming onto her, that you didnt just want to be pleased but clearly wanted to please her too, desperately.

she wouldn’t have assumed or demanded that you touch her in any way, but your open fantasizing about it made her curse herself for not throwing caution to the wind weeks before and kissing you in the back of the store one of the many times shed wanted to.

once you were done and went back to her room, she handed you over some of her comfortable clothes and told you to take up however much space you wanted to on her bed, before getting in under the covers next to you.

there was a giddiness to both of you as you realized that you were only getting the first taste of the intimacy you would be able to share from that point on, both the erotic aspects and the domestic, sweet ones. it had been too long for her. it seemed surreal to Van, to feel a warm body snuggle up to hers. she had to be careful not to shed a tear as you reached for her under the blanket and pressed yourself against her.

after a moment of content silence, both of you melting into a soft embrace, your head on her chest, she asked "did you mean that earlier? about feeling comfortable around me, at ease".

you nodded, tracing her outline over her soft sleeping clothes "I did yes. I didn’t just say that to make you cave." a grin from both of you as you said that. you continued "the past few weeks have been kinda draining and sometimes the only thing I look forward to was seeing you. I mean that" Van squeezed you in response, "I am very glad. you make my days much brighter too, always. but it does make me sad to think you’re stressed when you’re not here. I did get close to asking you to stay after work a few times but. well. I couldn’t figure out a way for that to not sound a bit creeppy because. you know... the age difference, me technically being your boss." that made you laugh and look up at her.

"oh, I don’t mind a creepy older boss if it’s you" you joked.

Van smiled, "right, I should have known from the way you kept staring me down" teasing you, her tone low and suggestive.

you gave her light shove under the covers, "yeah and you fully played into it, you were just pushing me to make the first move, don’t even lie". it had happened more than once that she had felt your gaze and stretched her arms, so her midriff would show, or played with her hair, or leaned over the counter in a way that lent itself to fantasy very easily.

still, she acted oblivious and said "I don’t know what you mean", her grin giving away that she absolutely did.

you reached up and tapped her on her freckled nose while whispering "sure”, after which you both leaned in for a kiss, the taste of her toothpaste making the it taste minty, both of you smiling into it.

you nuzzled up against each other then and closed your eyes, sighing in unison, your bodies devoid of all the tension they usually held onto.

"I am really glad you came here tonight. I could get used to this." Van said quietly before you could drift off for good. you slid your hand under shirt, your palm resting on her lower back, a sigh from her. "me too. you’re mine now" you proclaimed, joking but not really, since you did want her all to yourself. to your luck, Van liked it, a lot, being claimed like that, so she smiled and whispered "oh yeah?".

"hm, yeah...." you insisted, half asleep already but lucid enough to feel the joy radiate from her as she said "good."

the sleep you both fell into at the same time was heavy and dreamless, which felt fitting, since reality had suddenly taken on a dreamlike quality.

you were glad that the cold had forced you to your knees, that youd been lead by instinct that night, that you’d come to her and been received with open arms.

it was one of the coldest nights of the year but to you it ended with a kind of warmth that you couldn’t have conceived of before. in the darkness, she was your sun. your fire. your light.

#this one’s a bit heavier on the smut than the previous ones but I can never keep it brief so there’s still a decent amount of plot obviousl #van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets

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fizziepopangel · 2 days ago

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A Fizziepop Take: Let’s talk about the beginning of the end and what the last few episodes might mean for the next chapter of Stolitz

Well hello, my lovely peoples! I feel like I haven’t written a Fizziepop Take in a good minute, and I know I'm putting my two cents in a lil late, but I am back and so ready to talk about everything that we’ve seen in the last few episodes because it has been wild…. So, you know the drill, let’s get into it.

So, if we wanna talk about the beginning of the end, we need to be honest with ourselves; the real beginning of the end of one of the fandom’s most beloved ships started back with the incident at Ozzie’s. If you've followed my takes for a while, you know I talk about this night a lot, but that is because this was a real turning point for the couple; the relationship has been strained ever since Blitz felt what he felt that night when Stolas pulled away from him in public when all eyes were on them. Ever since that exact moment, Blitz felt like he was being used and taken advantage of, and despite things going back to a kind of normal for them, those feelings just ended up festering and since our loveable little horse-loving imp doesn’t have a lot of healthy ways to process things and has already had it imbedded in his brain that he ain’t shit, I don’t think he ever fully processed what that night meant from any other angle than “he’s embarrassed to be seen with me”. What does this have to do with how things ended? I’m so glad you’ve asked! Since Blitz never fully processed the events of that night and therefore was only ever able to see it as a royal being embarrassed to be seen on a date with a lowly imp, Blitz didn’t get to see the sweeter side of being gifted an Asmodean Crystal by Stolas in “The Full Moon”. To Blitz, the crystal was more of a “you’re being let go” type of thing because Stolas essentially terminated their contract and since they had never talked about their relationship being anything but contractual, Blitz had no reason to believe that this was really anything but Stolas telling him that he was no longer needed by him.

Now, we as the audience know what the real intention behind the crystal was, and I think Stolas put it beautifully when he tried to explain it to Blitz when he gifted him the crystal….. but I don’t think that words really do much for Blitz in most instances, let alone in the long term. Blitz is more of an “actions speak louder than words” type of imp, but here’s the thing about that: for this saying to be true, actions must be consistent. Because, yes, actions do speak louder than words, but if that action is only done here and there, it doesn’t always show what it should. In terms of the end of Stolitz as we know it, Stolas isn’t the only one who’s actions matter, and unfortunately, I’m not talking about just Blitz’s actions. Being that Blitz has been abused (probably way more than we’ve even seen), those actions matter. Abuse of any sort does a lot more damage to the victim than we sometimes realize, and because of that, it can do a lot of damage in how a person looks at things like relationships and love…. And given the transactional nature of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas hadn’t consistently been a genuine partner to Blitz outside of the bedroom, his reaction to the crystal honestly makes a lot of sense. First, he treats it like an elaborate role play, because sex is the only love language he’s consistently known in their relationship, then when he realizes that it’s a serious conversation, he’s pissed rather than grateful…. Is his anger perhaps a little misplaced? Probably, but the feelings are all real. Blitz does feel used and discarded by Stolas, something he’s obviously felt before since we see in his bad trip in "Truth Seekers" that he feels very much chained to the prince by the design of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas doesn't give him much time to really sit with what’s just happened between them after handing him an out of their relationship doesn’t help…. And then we see the panic when Blitz realizes that unlike what he’s used to, Stolas isn’t going to match his anger, he’s just going to remove himself from the situation and let that be the end of it….

This brings us to the events of “Apology Tour”. I actually really loved this episode despite the fact that my favorite couple literally just called it quits the episode before. We see the aftermath of what happened the night of the full moon, and we see the way both men start to grieve the relationship they had in their own ways, which I would argue is the true end of the relationship since this is where we see both men really accepting that they are no longer a thing the way they were before. We see Stolas taking all his eggs out of the Blitz basket and actually letting himself be happy with someone else, even if that happy is only gonna be for the night… And we see Blitz realizing that he not only truly loved Stolas more than he had wanted to admit, but we see him start trying to let go of what he had with the man despite the point of the episode being that he hadn’t really been ready to in the beginning…. Unfortunately, Blitz letting go leads to his spiral which we see in “Ghostfuckers”, and we see him get himself into a rough spot with his little found family; working Loona into exhaustion burning owl figurines as a form of therapy, not paying M&M while also fucking away all of I.M.P’s money, and using the job they get in this episode as a chance to just roleplay as someone who wasn’t him and therefore wasn’t going through what he was…Really, Blitz did go into a deep, rather dark place, and I suspect that he might be there for a while when it comes to love, which leads us to the big question….

What does this all mean for the fan favorite ship? Will Stolitz really be endgame if we just watched them break up the way they did?

If you ask me, a humble Tumbr blogger who probably cares way too much about fictional demons, I honestly don’t think this hiatus will really affect the ship too negatively. The time apart may be just what Stolas and Blitz need. Both of these men have trauma they need to start working through individually, and while having a support system can be a helluva help when you’re reopening old wounds to try to get them to heal properly (hehe, see what i did there?), I don’t think either of them is really in a place emotionally to be the best support they can be for the other while they both individually try to do that. Stolas also needs time to learn who he is as a person considering he went from being a baby prince to being engaged, then straight from being engaged to being married, then married with a kid, and directly after that, he jumped into bed with Blitz and just proceeded to place everything he had in that "relationship"… He never really considered anything outside of loveless marriage with an abusive cunt or amazing sex and *hopefully* love with an old childhood “friend”. I think he needs some time to be alone and live just for himself as much as he can as a Goetia, and I don’t think he could have done that with Blitz right now, at least not fully. Vivzie is a smart woman, and she does a lot of things in her shows very intentionally, so I do think that she is setting the pair up for a happier, healthier relationship down the line and I think once they come together again and have more experiences apart from each other, we’re probably gonna get a sort of happy ending for the pair, or at least the start of a new beginning for them.

I’d love to hear what everyone else thinks, because as you all know, this is just a simple Fizziepop Take and anything can happen in the Helluverse, but my take definitely makes me excited for the next episode because I for one cannot wait to see what Vivzie has in store for us next.

#fizziepop thoughts #fizziepop take #vivziepop #helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #stolitz analysis #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss stolas #prince stolas #helluva boss imps #stolitz #the full moon #apology tour #ghostfuckers #truth seekers #blitz's bad trip #is this the end?#Or is this just the beginning?

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nadas-dirthalen · 17 hours ago

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A Veilguard Achievement Icon Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore... but Was I Right?

PART TWO: What Veilguard Did Narratively, and What That Tells Us Going Forward

Hello again, friends and travellers. Now that I've beaten Dragon Age: the Veilguard, I wanted to go through all those 30,000 words of predictions that I wrote in the ~11 days leading up to its release. I'd seen an achievement icon that pieced together a lot of Dragon Age lore for me.

But, I hadn't played Veilguard. All I had was the footage from September 19, the achievement list, and anything else BioWare had released.

So... was I right? And if so, how much was I right about?

This is your warning:This post will contain spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: the Veilguard, and all Dragon Age content made before Veilguard.

(my davrinmance is going great as i try and collect every codex, thanks for asking!)

Today's Discussion: to Understand Dragon Age, We Must Understand Its Writing.

Before I can go any further on why I think the way that I think, or why I imagine the story might take us in certain directions, it's essential that you all understand where I'm coming from. Veilguard, like any game, is a piece of art. Its bones are built with similar narrative structures to novels (though not identical, and that's important!). To make sense of what's to come, we must examine Veilguard's bones the same way.

I've seen a lot of people wondering why, for instance, the Inquisitor is not Veilguard's protagonist. I've seen people lamenting the fact that there were not on-screen clarifications of popular lore theories. Before this series goes any further, I need to say my piece about why I believe that it was essential that Veilguard was written as it was, and why its writing does in fact help us better predict Dragon Age's path forward moreso than even Inquisition.

That said, today I hope to cover:

What Veilguard Demanded of BioWare's Writing Team, and Why

The Protagonist: Why Rook's Perspective Matters

The 3 Act Structure: Our Lens

The Companions: Paths to Our Answers — and Future Games

What Veilguard Demanded of BioWare's Writing Team, and Why

Let's get this out of the way right away: it has been 10 years since Inquisition. And, like it or not, that means one gigantic thing for BioWare: if they wanted to have any hope of making more Dragon Age, they needed to bring in new players and resuscitate the interest of many old players who did not stay in the fandom the whole time. They didn't—and couldn't—write Veilguard specifically for you or I, people of Tumblr. If they did, it would've pleased us... and then cost them so much money that we'd never get any more Dragon Age.

That doesn't just mean modernizing the game's aesthetics, or providing a glossary in its Codex. It means they would have to balance all of the following (just at a glance):

Managing the learning curve in general. Not even I looked in the glossary as I played. Me, supreme enjoyer of all codices ever. It's just not something most players are ever going to do, as much as it the lore is such a fundamental part of the game in general. That means simplifying terms where possible — elven gods in place of Evanuris, for example — but also trimming down what would have to necessarily reference past games. Only a tiny fraction of the fanbase has played Inquisition in the last 3 years, nevermind this year.

Recontextualizing the lore. That does not mean rebooting it, it means situating all we have learned so far in a framework that fits all we have learned so far. Much of what we learned about the Evanuris seemed, for so long, to be totally separate for the things we knew about the blight and Blights. Veilguard needed to show us how those things relate, and to do so in a fresh context that would allow everyone to develop new understanding.

Pushing us one step past Inquisition's knowledge. Veilguard, after reframing the lore, had to leave us a path for new lore, and increased understanding. I think the devs put it really well when they say that their aim is to give us some answers, but leave us with even more questions. More on that later, and in future posts.

Updating Thedas' ethos. Let's face it. It has been 15 years since Origins came out. The things that were more typical of scifi/fantasy (SFF) then are just not the same now, and would not be perceived by 2024 players in the same way as by those who started Origins in 2009. The world has changed; our cultural understandings are broadening and need to continue broadening. BioWare is doing a good thing by incorporating things like nonbinary identities into Veilguard, and it is good that Veilguard is progressing the world of gaming in that way, especially considering its success. (This is also, I wager, why we choose an Archon out of two choices who want the same thing, rather than leaving that open to a more "evil" option).

Dislodge older fans from their Solas headcanons to get everyone old and new to the same confusion and potential distrust. Hear me out. Everyone who's stayed since Inquisition has beliefs about Solas. Even me, who got here in March of this year, whose fic reads overly soft now because I just didn't know Solas' grander plan until 48 hours before Veilguard came out. Everyone has had headcanons for so long that everyone has had time for their opinions of Solas to cement themselves. In order for Veilguard to work as a story, they had to debunk what everyone thought they knew: both lovers and haters of the famously controversial egg. By breaking down our existing beliefs, the devs open up essential curiosity from the players as to who—and what—Solas really is, which propels us through the narrative and has us absorbing information.

And this curiosity? It is why Veilguard could not have the Inquisitor as its protagonist. To keep us curious as players (and "readers" of the lore), BioWare needed a new protagonist.

Specifically, they needed Rook.

The Protagonist: Why Rook's Perspective Matters

Here's the thing. The protagonist is not just the face of the game. They are our vehicle to understanding that game. The plot follows their wants and responds to their understanding. What they don't know, what they want to know, is what makes up our every objective. Their emotional journey through the game is our emotional journey through the game. Following it, going after the things that matter to our protagonist, is how the entire game (including its lore) takes shape in our minds.

That's why it's essential that they don't know everything—especially after a ten year interim between games.

Veilguard's plot and twists proved that the Inquisitor did not know everything. They, in fact, knew less than half of everything. If we had kept them as the protagonist, all of our knowledge and curiosity would be shaped by the Inquisitor's understanding: a wrong understanding. We could constantly be fighting with what we think the Inquisitor should know, what should be true because we had seen it through the Inquisitor. We would be set up to be at odds with the very events of the game. Rook is a blank slate, barring a few key tonal indicators, and that blank slate allows for us to fit all previous lore into its new, recontextualized shape that I mentioned above. (Again, note that I am not saying rebooted.)

That, and Rook has multiple motivations. The Inquisitor is focused largely on stopping or saving Solas; Rook is charged with figuring everything out as it is happening to them in real time with almost no context or experience, AND stopping or saving Solas. The Inquisitor has existing allies and resources; Rook does not. Rook must build their own campaign from the ground up, and that means the player is building their own experience from the ground up. Their allies, abilities, and home base, yes, but also their knowledge. Discovering things at the same pace as Rook, with a similarly urgent drive to do so, keeps the game from infodumping at us. It keeps the reveals evenly spaced, but also immediately interesting to the player.

And best of all? Rook allows the writers to do what they want to Solas without breaking his dynamic with the endless sea of Inquisitors (or, at least, with way less risk of doing so). We needed to have our theories about him broken down and rebuilt as players; to do that to the Inquisitor would damage an entire sea of headcanons. We'd never get the Solavellan ending we wanted, for instance, if Solas had played mind games with Lavellan for that many months. And if Solas didn't do those things, if he'd been wholly defanged, he would have lost his appeal and importance in the narrative. He wouldn't be the Dread Wolf in the ways that matter to Veilguard.

It's important, then, that Rook has just the slightest bit of backstory. They care about their allies. They are not a potential political force like the Inquisitor. They have many options to be impulsive. Every single Rook has rebelled against authority. Every single one has a stubborn streak. BioWare put all those qualities there on purpose, because Solas uses every single one, in every single Rook, as a tool. That was all essential for his character development in this game! At the same time, they couldn't do that with the Inquisitor as protagonist, because after 10 years, no two Inquisitors are similar enough to predict/script their actions and responses in that way.

Those twists are perhaps the most important tool for forward momentum in the game. The more they keep us guessing, the more we'll play and seek new information, the more we'll learn. Which brings me to...

The 3 Act Structure: Our Lens

Like I said: BioWare couldn't just infodump at us in Veilguard. It wouldn't be interesting to even half the fans that stayed, these ten years. To keep us engaged as players, they had to string the lore through a series of engaging events. Keep the momentum up, so we would not be lazily looking over codices, but chasing new knowledge and understanding. It all had to be emotionally relevant and resonant to keep us caring, because very few people play games they don't care about.

Veilguard, like a lot of written art, follows the three act structure. Though there are a lot of variants on the more precise beats, they all broadly follow the same-ish path.

Hook: The opening image. In Disney movies, this is the song where the character sings about all the things they want in their journey, and what they truly need is only implied. It gives an opening note for the theme by showing what the character lacks, and what they might need to gain before defeating the final villain. In Veilguard, this is our prologue, centered entirely around Varric: the big red herring where we see that Rook is out of their depth, opting to push over a support beam rather than take on the Dread Wolf. Off-screen, it is also the background information about Rook, showing us who they are and what they want before we play.

Inciting Incident: The event that kicks off the main plot. In DA:tV, there's a big collection of these (because every companion needs one; we'll get to that). The first big one is, of course, the failed ritual. The death Rook doesn't see. The Evanuris are freed, but Rook has only half the information.

First Plot Point: "Plot Point" means "big/defining decision" in writer-speak. This is the moment the protagonist decides to go forth on their adventure. In video games, this is more or less determined for you, but you have the option to flavour this moment in Veilguard. You can choose how to tell Solas that you'll do what he wants: either by appeasing him or angering him. You do the same for Neve and Harding afterward, and then again in Arlathan and D'Meta's Crossing. You state that you're doing this, no matter what it takes.

First Pinch Point / "The Setback": "Pinch" means "twist" in writer-speak. It's the first time the narrative is shaken up, and is also usually the first time we see the true scope of the villain. In Veilguard, the first big twist has been called "the Setback" by some of the devs (notably, I heard it at a panel in September). For Veilguard, this is Weisshaupt. We see the true scope of Ghilan'nain's horrors, but we also see the first BIG hints (outside of Varric) that Solas is manipulating us—because he really doesn't seem to hate the Wardens as much as Inquisition enjoyers like myself expected. This event concludes act 1.

"New World" / "Fun and Games": The devs have remarked that they wanted to see the tone of their setback (Weisshaupt) threaded through the rest of the game, and we do: through Davrin and Lucanis' banter, through the reflections on the consequences of Weisshaupt, through every character struggling with their confidence and identity after that point, through the blight getting worse and worse and worse. That's what the New World is: the characters getting used to new circumstances after that first big twist. The Fun and Games are the slow and steady recovery from the twist, warming and solidifying formerly tenuous relationships. This is where we do a lot of companion and faction quests.

Midpoint: In a narrative that ends in a victory (so most games ever), the midpoint is a false victory. We think we've nailed something, only for something else to happen that begins to seed doubt in the protagonist's capability and/or ability to solve the plot. For Veilguard, this is the blighted dragon fight: we think we've got Ghilan'nain, but then Elgar'nan shows up and demonstrates that Rook is in so, so over their head.

Second Pinch Point: The second twist. The villain's identity is crystal-clear, and by now we've definitely interacted with the villain more directly. This is Arlathan, Elgar'nan's mind-trap—and Solas' "rescue" of Rook, showing his duplicity in full. Elgar'nan notably says a line about not falling for Fen'Harel's tricks again, and it foreshadows what we will see of Solas.

Disaster / Crisis: This is the event that triggers the protagonist's downward spiral. Not a twist (necessarily), but a catastrophe. In Veilguard's case, it's both: the Ghilan'nain fight leaves one companion dead-dead and another presumed dead. Then, the twist: Solas using Rook's sharply felt regret to pull his gambit and swap places with them. A series of events that literally had me gasping so frequently I got dizzy. Thanks, BioWare :) Many people say that this event, or something between this event and the "All is Lost" beat, conclude act 2. For games, the pacing is sometimes different, as is the cutoff mark, because otherwise the third act has the potential to be very short.

"All is Lost" / The Dark Night of the Soul: It's exactly as the name suggests: all has been lost. The protagonist doubts themself completely. It seems like nothing more can go wrong, and like nothing might ever go right again. The protagonist is at a loss for how to move forward. In Veilguard? Varric is dead. Davrin/Harding is dead. Bellara/Neve is dead. Rook is literally trapped not only in their regret, but in a reflection of Solas' regret. And to get out, they'll need...

"The Epiphany" / Second Plot Point: "Plot point" means "big/defining decision" in writer-speak, as stated above. Only this one contains more layers than the first. This is where the thematic statement of the piece comes out: the lesson that the protagonist must learn is stated, clearly, for all of us to see. It is the thing that picks them up off the ground, giving them strength to face the climax and the danger it promises. In Veilguard, this is Varric saying to Rook, "Have you learned nothing here?" and reminding both Rook and player that he chose this; Rook's companions chose this; we cannot blame ourselves for the actions of others. We cannot carry grief for other people, or we'll drown in it. Sound like any other character we know?

Climax: The big fight! But also, the big moment where the theme is shown to be the narrative key. In every ending of Veilguard, Rook being Solas' perfect mirror is the key to winning the day against the Dread Wolf. It just depends on what facet of Solas Rook chooses to mirror: the trickster, the nasty combatant, or the person who was haunted by their own failings and lost companions.

Resolution: Narrative threads are tied up, or a promise is made to tie up those loose ends in future installations. Veilguard's credits do both of those things. :)

Why am I telling you all of this? Because the lore must follow that skeleton. Every reveal we get must fit into both the timing and the feeling of those events. It would not fit to suddenly drop everything about the Titans right after Rook gets to the Lighthouse, which is why those enemies you need to kill to get the last memories are level 30-40. It would not fit to uncover everything about the blight's origin before Weisshaupt. If they forced us into that as players, all the casual fans and new players would duck out, feeling overwhelmed.

Even for us older fans, narrative structure shapes significance. You can tell a lot about a codex's overall importance and tone just by understanding where you find it, and when. That's why the Trespasser codices carry so much weight, even the ones about the Evanuris' actions that we don't see on screen at all: they are at the bitter end, and so they carry all the bitterness, longing, and mourning of that ending. Without the context of Trespasser, they mean less.

This is also why Veilguard paces its companion quests this way, not allowing you to complete them until later in the game. Every companion has something to teach us, and BioWare wanted to give each companion's narrative the weight it deserved.

The Companions: Paths to Our Answers — and Future Games

Anyone who's played Inquisition knows that companion quests shape entire facets of the lore in individual games, as well as set us up for the trajectory of the next games. Just look at Solas and Cole: together, they shaped our whole understanding of spirits in Veilguard. They set us up to ask all the right questions about not only spirits being bound as demons (Solas' quest), but about spirits being able to manifest in physical shape (Cole's quest). Together, their narrative conclusions foreshadowed much of the Evanuris' reveals in Veilguard: that they were spirits who could manifest into corporeal shape, and that they had the ability to ask others to manifest—and then bind them.

Again, these quests are paced throughout Inquisition's main plot. You cannot do their before Skyhold, and you cannot do them after the cutoff of (I believe) the Temple of Mythal. Inquisition forces you to see those quests' endings in the exact right spot: sometime around the midpoint (Adamant/WEWH), but before the disaster/dark night (the Temple of Mythal). They do that so you will feel that those things are significant.

Veilguard does the same thing. Every companion has a facet of the lore attached to it, but you cannot follow those threads to their conclusions at the beginning of the game. The game won't let you, because the moments need to be spaced out properly and carry the necessary emotional weight. Not all of their quests promise speculative material for future games in the same way, because some explain the context of the current game (Varric, in DAI, accomplished both with the red lyrium content, for instance; Leliana, meanwhile, dealt with the theme of faith in DAI and did not promise future speculation).

These concepts will all get far more attention in due time, but in short, here's what I think is associated with each companion:

Harding: Titans! But also, angry titans, and the difference between "angry titan" and "source of blight." In the same vein, what the dwarves should do going forward, and where they should place the titans in their culture.

Neve: The soul of Veilguard; her narrative is very current to DA:tV, in my early understanding. But she brings forth a lot of nuance to the themes of regret, and what that regret looks like on a smaller scale (a city, rather than a world). She does a lot of work in showing us that regret is regret, no matter the scale, and that the work we do to do better matters, no matter the scale. Additionally, her personal quest foreshadows Solas' use of blood magic against us being more than we thought by showing off Aelia's puppets, suggesting to us (tonally) that Rook may be Solas' puppet.

Bellara: The Forgotten Ones!! Anaris! Also, the place of ancient elvhenan in the future of Thedas, and what the elves should do/feel going forward.

Lucanis: I think they were going for some Forgotten One/Forbidden One hints, judging by some notes from the Ossuary and some banter between Lucanis and the others. This needs more dissection. Lucanis sort of does both what Bellara and Neve do: the Forgotten Ones, and also the heart of Veilguard's theme, with a lot of found family vibes thrown in.

Davrin: The blight itself, and the future of the blight without any archdemons left to cause capital-B Blights. Thedas' path to healing its nature.

Emmrich: The nature of what spirits are. I need to go screencap more specifics, but I swear this necromancer has referenced the difference between spirit and human soul and has stumbled upon saying that the two might not be so different at least once. Also, the Formless One centers around the Necropolis, and I'm thinking "spirits seeking bodies" and this whole idea of unlife/undeath is going to be explored later.

Taash: Remember how I said BioWare needed an ethos update? I think we see that most predominantly in Taash, whose entire personal quest is an examination of the values and priorities of different cultures, as well as the place of gender and gender ideology in Thedas. We saw this with Dorian and Krem in DA:I, but Taash modernizes that conversation (10 years has changed a lot!) and brings it front-and-center. At the same time, their existence is referencing (potentially) the Scaled Ones, and showing us that the kossith (Qunari) might have far more ties to Evanuris shenaniganry than we thought—and that those shenanigans did not happen on Thedas, but potentially far across the sea. (Neve and Lucanis accomplish this, also, with the Shadow Dragons and Crows, but not to the degree that Taash does).

This is why the companion quests MATTER, and (at least partially) why the game asks you to complete these quests or suffer consequences in the finale.

You know what else happens, upon completion of these companion quests?

You get codices. In Dragon Age, they are the threads that tie the seemingly disconnected pieces of the plot together, and that's on purpose. This time, they automatically unlock upon completing different stages of companion quests—and as far as I can tell right now, days after completing the game for the first time, the ones revealed later DO contain spicier hints about future lore than those revealed earlier.

And between ALL of these things—the demands Veilguard's timing placed on Bioware, the need for Rook as a protagonist, and the structure for every companion's quests—I think BioWare did an amazing, genius job with their narrative. Yes, I have seen some of the art book content, and yes, it would have been so cool to have those things, but... I truly do not think BioWare needed them, as close as I would have held cameos like Cole to my heart.

From a lore perspective? They knocked it out of the gods-damned park with Veilguard. They did an amazing job with each of their quests, and I promise: there is no shortage of juicy lore to be found in Veilguard. Now that I've inflicted an outline of what I know about stories upon you, I promise: all of this serves as context for everything I look forward to saying in future posts.

_____

If you got this far, thank you, as always!

This series is going to take a turn toward what I noticed in Veilguard, how I feel that Veilguard adds to my theories (or perhaps debunks some of them), and where I think the series is going to go from here. But in order to write all that properly and miss as little as possible (even though, in November 2024, with no wiki or transcripts, I am guaranteed to miss things), I need to keep playing the game and keep reading the codices I find.

Stay tuned for the next instalments, though I cannot say how quickly they will come after this. <3

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #da theory #da meta #solas #solas dragon age #evanuris #bellara #davrin #harding #neve #emmrich #taash #lucanis #da:tv #da:ve #dragon age: veilguard

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karlachismylife · 2 days ago

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Soap for the character ask game plz :)

Do I really need a reason to yap about him? Nah, but I'll take it, thanks :)

If anyone else is interested, I'll be glad to talk about someone else from COD and BG3. The game itself is here if someone wants to reblog!

So. John "Soap" MacTavish.

favorite thing about them

Is "everything" a good enough answer? No? Damn. I guess I'll have to go with his passion. I can tie that to his ADHD, I can tie that to the fact that he's sunshine (and sun burns hot and flares), it doesn't matter - his emotions are bright, run hot, he's impulsive and he feels so strong. I relate to that, I also just like everything bright and flashy. His anger, his loyalty, his sense of justice, his love - they are so big and strong they cannot be contained inside his heart no matter how huge it is. This is what makes him dangerous, this is what makes him vulnerable, this is what makes him so fucking lovable to me.

least favorite thing about them

The fact that he prefers coffee over tea (source: his VA). I'm sorry, I can't stand coffee, my throat literally closes up and stops breathing if I enter some coffee-smelling space and it's not something I can control well (I tried, I swear). So the knowledge that living with Soap would involve the apartment reeking of the forbidden drink, and even worse, kissing him might taste like coffee... it's heartbreaking. I'm training that man to drink tea whether he likes it or not, coffee doesn't do anything for ADHDers anyway.

favorite line

I mean. I feel like using any of Ghoap batner here would be cheating cuz it is very much the best thing ever and also they're bouncing off each other. So I'll go with "Kids, guns and balloons. That's a new one."

It's at the start in Las Almas. I love listening to Soap in general, I love all the Scott-isms he has (even though it seems actual Scottish didn't appreciate those too much), I obviously love the funny lines he has or when he gets angry. But this one just stuck with me. Probably not because it's a Soap line, but because it's a sad line in general (and hits a little too close to home in the current situation).

But also I feel like it's kinda. The fact that I, a 22yo civilian am not actually surprised to see that "kids, guns and balloons" situation (although I am so fortunate to not be witnessing that directly), and Soap, a 26 (I think?) yo SAS Sergeant who ran off to enlist at 15-16 is. It says something about how he views the world, doesn't it? He lacks that cynicism. I've seen people say that veiwing him as a "happy go lucky" guy is incorrect, but I dunno, man. I think if someone who kills people for his job is surprised to see kids involved into crime+politics games, then he's a pretty damn optimistic lad that believes in the good in the world.

brOTP

Soap and Alejandro. There's just something so smooth, straightforward and inherently good about just two men coming to fight for what's right. Also nothing is funnier than Soap's constant cultural shock in Las Almas and Alejandro just chuckling at every silly question Johnny asks. Big brother Alejandro go go go!

OTP

Karlach x Soap for life, everything else is secondary.

nOTP

I reject the concept of nOTP, even the least likely/adhering to my tastes ships are at least interesting to explore. However, I am not a big fan of toxic relationships and such, so something like Soap x Makarov or Soap x Graves would be interesting to look at, but probably upsetting.

random headcanon

He likes the pink Orbit bubblegum, the one that comes in little stripes. His dad used to bring those at the end of the work week, sometimes unopened, sometimes with just a couple pieces left, and Soap stashed them away in his pillow case when he had the willpower not to eat them all at once. His old pillow in his childhood bedroom still smells like bubblegum.

absolutely based on my own life

unpopular opinion

I don't know what's popular to say what's unpopular. But maybe the fact that I think that Soap isn't like a total horndog 24/7? I still think he is pretty horny, more than an average person, but I also think that he's more tactile than anything and that even when he gets a random boner or just is hot and bothered, he can be satisfied with non-sexual touch. But he does not respond well to touch starvation, oh no.

song i associate with them

I am so bad at assosiating songs with characters/ships etc :( I'll be boring and repeat myself for the third time: Ren's "Loco"

youtube

favorite picture of them

That comission of him and Karlach I got, duh

But if we're talking ingame, nothing beats him being pretty and doing puppy eyes in that Milena interrogation scene. That hand reaching scene alone has me by the throat.

Thank you for asking about him!! Love youu <3

#juju's replies #soap cod #john soap mactavish #call of duty #cod

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sondheim-girly · 3 days ago

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@outsidersweek heres my absurdly late submission for day five!! heres the masterpost for this fic

September 1967

Marcia

The Monday after Bob died, none of her friends went to school. They instead decided to go to Pershing park, trying to find some consolation there. Marcia’s head was buried in Trips' shoulder, their arms wrapping around each other for any sense of comfort they could find. Marcia eventually pulled away from him, and went over to where Cherry was sitting. She and Bev fixed the letterman jacket that was wrapped around the grieving girls’ shoulders and smoothed down her hair as Paul started talking, his eyes filled with a violent anger.

“This can’t be real. He can’t be gone, and I don’t know how we just carry on, this could’ve happened to anyone! But here we are, can’t be undone.”

Cherry stared straight ahead and whispered to herself, “What have we done?”

Paul heard her, and turned to face Cherry, “We were only having fun.”

“You were only having fun?” She responded in disbelief,

“Just hanging out, just horsing ‘round, doing what we’ve always done.”

Cherry stood up, and started walking away from the group. “Bob was drinking, you were drinking too! And tell me what’s so fun about a fight that’s five on two? What’d you think that boy was gonna do, he lived his life scared to death after what you put him through!” Marcia stared at Cherry wide eyed, shocked at what she was saying. No one had ever talked to their friends like that.

“Bob went crazy when he saw you with that greaser kid.” Paul said as he started making his way closer to Cherry, and Marcia ran over to her friend. “You held his hand at the concession stand, we saw it all, you know just what you did!” He accused, as their friends all angrily nodded along with him. Cherry took a step back, fear filling her eyes.

“You guys were loud that night! Out looking for a fight!” Cherry took Marcia’s hand, and Marcia could see Trip shaking his head from the side of her eye. “The two of us just stayed behind, you couldn’t stand to leave those boys alone!”

“You and pony holding hands! I don’t think you understand, Bob was not a jealous man! Cherry what you did that night was wrong.” Bev stepped out for a moment to grab Marcias wrist and tug her into the crowd, away from Cherry. Marcia ripped her arm out of Bevs grasp, before attempting to move towards Cherry again. Paul was standing in front of her though, preventing Marcia from moving away.

“You should be as mad as me at this senseless tragedy! Bob didn’t need to die!!” Paul circled around away from Cherry, going to stand on the fountain as their friends gathered around him, hungry fire in their eyes. Brill came over, glaring at Marcia, before he turned away and went to Cherry. Marcia stared in horror as Brill tried to take Bob's letterman jacket off of Cherrys shoulders, but she flinched back, not letting him any closer. Brill walked away and went to join the rest of their friends who were gathered around Paul.

“The greasers crossed a line! We could sit here asking why, or we could send them back a message! Take an eye for an eye!” Paul declared, to rousing cheers from his friends.

Marcia turned to Cherry, who looked completely horrified. She held her hand out to Marcia so they could leave, and Marcia looked back at her friends. If she left now, Trip might break up with her. Bev would shun her. All of her friends would see her as a traitor. She wanted to move, but her feet stayed planted in place, her eyes trying to communicate to Cherry how sorry she was. Cherry stepped back, her face holding a betrayal and a sorrow that sent shots through Marcia’s heart. She turned around to leave, and Marcia felt violent tears rise up through her throat. When she looked over at her friends she vaguely saw Paul pointing out something, and a fresh wave of horror hit her.

It all happened too fast. Her friends ran at Two-Bit, and she could see the moment he realized what was happening. He tried to run away, but Brill and Chet grabbed his arms and slammed him down onto the concrete. She stepped forward- she had to do something- but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Chet stare her down, a warning in his eyes. Brill was holding Two-Bit down, but Trip was the one who punched him flat across the face. Marcia had never seen Trip like this. She felt sick. Two-Bit went rolling, then got up and ran at Chet, tackling the boy to the ground. Brill and Trip pulled him off and onto his back, and Marcia tried to take another few steps forward. Why couldn't she do anything?? Brill was pinning down Two-Bits arms, and Chet was holding his legs. Paul set his foot on Two-Bits chest, and issued his warning:

“Next saturday night! Pershing park! All out war is officially declared!!” And then Paul forced his entire body weight on Two-Bits chest, before stepping off with a laugh. Trip went down to pin one of Two-Bits arms. Marcias frantic gaze shifted to Bev, who had a vicious grin on her face. She was leaning down to Two-Bit, a light cigarette in hand. Marcia felt lightheaded watching as her friend, her friend, pressed a cigarette to an innocent boy's forehead. The scream that echoed through the park was something that would haunt Marcia until the day she died. Her friends finally let go of the boy, and he rolled onto his stomach. They were all whooping and laughing victoriously, and Marcia vaguely felt Brill take her arm and start to drag her into his car. She was stuffed into the backseat next to Trip. He put his arm around her waist. His knuckles were covered in blood, and he was smiling. He was proud of his hatred and his violence, and he was touching her. The next thing Marcia knew, she was yelling at Brill to stop the car and let her out.

Two-Bit

Everything hurt. His ribs. The burn on his face. The cuts on his face from those boys rings. Two-Bit tried to push down the pain as he slowly crawled to the edge of the park, he had to figure out where to go now. His first thought was the Curtis house, but with everything that those brothers were going through right now, they didn’t need anything else to worry over. Home it was, then. He was just attempting to stand when he heard something behind him. He turned around, ready to fight whoever it was that had come for round 2. But it wasn’t anything like that.

Marcia was standing there, and her face was full of pain. He wondered for a moment if she'd finally decided to join in on her friend's fun, but when he looked into her eyes, he doubted that.

“Hey doll” he rasped, “need something?”

“I want to help.” Marcia choked out.

“That so? Then why didn’t you say so earlier.” He joked, but his words were laced with something more serious.

“I was…” she started, but she cut herself off with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

“True enough,” he admitted jokingly,

Marcia looked at him for a moment, then asked, “do you need help getting home?”

Two attempted to take a step so he could prove he was ok, “I’m fi-” he started to say, but he cut himself off when a shooting pain moved through his body. His ribs must be bruised. He wasn’t sure if he could get all the way back home and patch himself up in this state, so he looked up at Marcia and said, “I live a few blocks away. Mind giving me a hand?”

She almost smiled, but her eyes were too full of fear for it to be believable.

#jean has thoughts #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders #two bit mathews #marbit #marcia the outsiders #two bit × marcia #trip the outsiders #cherry valance #paul holden #chet the outsiders #bev the outsiders #brill the outsiders

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mad-hunts · 12 hours ago

Text

in response to the other's answer in regards to what jervis would prefer on his toast, jack simply nodded. he'd found himself at a loss for what else to say even though that was actually quite rare for him. maybe it was the idea that barton could be outside at that very moment, listening in, that made jack suddenly feel like a fog had rolled into his mind; making it so that he could protect himself without even knowing for sure that there was a threat in the first place.

barton didn't like talking about julien - he'd pretty much stowed away every single picture but one the family had with him in it, in fact. for it still hurt him too much to look at them. therefore, especially considering his father's history of not being able to regulate his moods well, jack might have to perform 'damage control' if that were the case. but crossing the bridge if he were to get there seemed to apply quite well here. so, the farceur chose to move on and it turned out to be wisely, too.

jervis did look very tense lying there with jack visibly appearing to want to curl up into himself and never come out. after going to the nearby trunk in the room, he opened it. this was done as a means to distract the both of them from succumbing to the weight of their own differing circumstances. though there was certainly a good cover reason for jack to, ❝ oh, wow. ahh... i almost forgot that its supposed to get down into the forties tonight so you might need this. its going to be cold, after all, ❞ it was also hitting sundown at that moment as well.

jack could tell by just looking through the crack in the curtains of the one window in the room. while gnawing on his bottom lip, he pulled out the plush blanket inside of the chest only to shake it out a bit. now, as jack tossed the blanket up just enough to cover jervis's body without touching him? something matilda told him a few years ago echoed in his mind during a conversation they had late at night: 'you know, i know you'd like nothing more than to get rid of all your feelings sometimes - but i hope you never change.'

jack just remembered looking up at the tent he was in that day of camping afterward, as he decided he should probably get to sleep. but it felt validating in a way he couldn't explain as well even now. because jack's first instinct upon seeing jervis was that he was struggling, so he should help him; though one could definitely say that sense of responsibility had made him suffer in the past. thank goodness sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils and exhaling could allow jack to quiet his mind then.

he tilted his head at the other's words and squinting his eyes, deep in thought. of course if jervis didn't believe in one, that was fine, but it appeared like he might. these sorts of concepts could trigger whole debates for a reason, however, as spirituality was something that jack affiliated himself with. but religion? he wasn't so sure, so he more than understood when jervis settled for saying his loved ones being at peace was simply something he wanted to believe in. with jack's sudden exit came the arrival of a much less benevolent figure, to say the least, and barton couldn't say he blamed jervis for seemingly somewhat disappointed that his son left.

jack was easy to get along with, and with just a little bit of time spent with him, he might just win someone over with his compassionate nature. barton knew this well along with the reality he had to learn other people's behaviors throughout the years to appear at least 'semi-normal.' how that was going for the doctor would often depend on who you asked, though. barton could only snort derisively at that, ❝ funny. just remember, you'd be in arkham right now if it weren't for me and my daughter. ❞ he pointed a sharpened nail in the direction of jervis as he proceeded into the room.

the same crack in the curtains jack had once looked through was soon closed with a quick 'swishing' motion. barton was personally raised with a very limited exposure to faith, as neither wesley nor winslow were particularly religious father figures. but barton could admire those who participate in it regardless of their level of involvement in it. though it could be used as a force of evil as much as it could be used for good, a lot of humanity existed in shades of gray.

so even if they were under the treat of suffering through something like eternal damnation after death... in barton's mind, it was only a matter of time before someone used a widespread thing like faith to their own advantage. and maybe this was bad of him but thinking about wesley being in such a place somewhat brought him a sense of twisted satisfaction; because at least barton would be getting a form of justice for every fearful moment wesley put him through that way. barton only blinked as his eyes trailed from jervis's face, to the teacup that jack had presumably brought him.

shockingly enough, all he felt when he discovered that marty's father was a powerful figure was an incredible amount of disbelief for a moment before it fizzled away. barton was used to things getting worse even if he couldn't have seen this coming. plus, he'd gotten frighteningly good at treating human lives like this police captain's more as obstacles than actual beings. it remained to be seen which one jervis was to barton. he squinted his eyes before standing up and ultimately finding out that, yeah, he had done that too quickly.

barton felt like he was green around the gills all over again, ❝ that is one way to put it, jervis. but don't worry. you just reminded me that, although we're going to have to get creative, there are ways of getting away with it. i'd say pinning his murder on someone else might be the best. ❞ he uttered after swallowing thickly, making a 'turn around' gesture with his finger towards the other. barton talking about murder as if it was light dinner conversation said everything that needed to be said about how he felt about their current predicament.

maybe it was because he was still feeling a lot of malaise, but no part of it bothered him in particular. the doctor was more worried about jervis becoming queasy because he accidentally saw the scars where he'd stitched on yves's arm to his own body, ❝ uhh, just in case you didn't get that, turn around. i'm going to change my shirt. ❞ once that was done, barton slipped his current bloodied one over his head only to replace it with the other. he slumped down in the chair to the table opposite of jervis and looked over the tarot cards laid out before him.

barton, too, knew how to interpret them. ❝ what were you two planning on doing with these? a 'past, present, and future' reading? because i can do it while my son's gone for you. ❞

Jervis gave the barest of shrugs as he glanced at Jack through his bangs, the quiet rhythm of their breathing, the slow drip of the IV, and the faint shifting of the cards against the tabletop the only sounds piercing the air. "Either one sounds perfectly agreeable. I defer to your good judgment." A ghost of a smile, pale and wan, tugged at his mouth for an infinitesimal moment.

Call it the lingering pangs of paternal instinct or projection, whatever you felt was most appropriate, but some flicker of warmth—worry mingling with concern—stirred within Jervis' breast; softening the veneer of exhaustion and discomfort that clothed him like a second skin. Like an invisible cancer that had latched onto him, draining his vitality—a slow-acting poison decades in the making; only this time, the source was external, a reflection of Jack's own unease radiating across the space between them.

Jervis drew in a shallow breath, feeling the tightness in his chest not as his own, but as if their nerves had blurred and grown entangled. He tried to focus, willing his own breath to steady, his hands to unclench. A low chuckle escaped Jervis' chapped lips at Jack's query. The medications in his IV coursed through him, cold and prickling, sending a frisson over his skin as goosebumps rose in response. And yet, somehow, it eased the deep ache within him, dulling the edges of both pain and nausea. He could feel the weight of his discomfort receding, just slightly, as though the medicine were smoothing his raw nerves; coaxing him toward a delicate, unfamiliar calm.

Not quite like ketamine.... not like the cozy, blithesome feeling that coursed through his veins with each dose. Even when most of his prior consumption of the drug hadn't been consensual—thick enough to cut his teeth on, it ensured small pockets of blissful ignorance hardening into a dissociative shell, like callus. (God bless those poor, ministering angels at Arkham... only a trace of spite and animosity there, rage bleeding with sorrow at how his autonomy and consent was completely ignored, snatched... one wrong move, and he was left cowering in a crumpled heap, or otherwise dead to the world... but now? Would the scales be tipped, if they managed to drag him back there? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer.) If Odysseus and his crew had been desperate to escape the Lotus Eaters only to stumble unwittingly into the clutches of Polyphemus, Jervis felt quite the opposite.

For better or worse, the ketamine had left him numb to everything.

The pain, the grief, the anguish that tore gouges in his heart and mind; lacerated his psyche to shreds, in conjunction with the ECT. Somehow, he compartmentalized it... gravitated to the cannabis as an alternative upon his discharge, once he'd regained his center of gravity and emerged from his self-immurement; the fractures left by his losses and lessons grinding him to the bone. Everything it cost him and what he'd earned in exchange. Simon. Arabella. His time in Ireland. Sylvie. The flood. Alice.

The lengths he had gone...

And so Jervis chuckled; the sound dry and hollow, barely touching his eyes. He met Jack’s gaze, his expression tightening as he mulled over the question, tasting the irony in it.

“An afterlife…” he murmured, his eyes drifting. Thoughts and memories broke the surface like apples bobbing in a bucket: Simon and Stephen putting aside their differences over the blessing at Passover; his and Arabella's quiet, but spirited discussions of Heaven and the saints and catechism, the differences between the Old and New Testaments as they strolled along the shoreline. Stories of the witch trials in Ireland, of John Calvin and his legacy in Scotland.

All the old beliefs he’d grown up with circled back and hit like a tidal wave, tied as much to memories of family as to the concept of religious faith itself, all its beauty and diverse forms, yet it left him feeling frigid now. For a little over three decades, he'd told himself that he could appreciate the mythology of it all, even found it strangely comforting at times, but belief? That had always been a different thing entirely.

Jervis' mind tugged him back to reality. He could sense Jack’s curiosity pressing at the edge of his own awareness, a secondary presence so strong it was almost rendered a physical form. "That's.... a complicated notion, from where I'm standing.” He let out a slow, careful breath; curled his fingers back around his necklace as he dissected the question. “But... yes. I'd like to think our loved ones are at peace."

He could map it all in a dozen lines, right down to his own lived experiences, the rules he tried so hard to follow, the ideals that always seemed to warp and fray. There was karma, consequence, perhaps even the lingering shadows of what people might call a curse. But the idea of any higher being calling the shots? It gnawed at him like an old wound. And so Jervis looked back at Jack, almost apologetic, the faint sting of an old ache flickering beneath his words.

He was spared from elaborating with Barton's sudden appearance; lurking on the threshold like a wraith. Poor Jack's confidence and ease withered like a hapless petunia caught in the dead of winter. A few quiet words of dismissal and a pat to the shoulder were all that heralded the reluctant, leery departure of his one potential ally in the wolf's den.

'As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.' Jervis sighed, slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, looked Barton in the eye; as well as he could, anyway, with the lingering gray spots and his missing glasses still impeding his line of sight. “Maybe we each make our own heaven—or our own hell.”

Perhaps that was petty or harsh of him to say out loud... though that was the truth of the matter. Jervis didn’t need religious belief to drive him, after all; he needed only his own peculiar code, that precarious balance between curiosity and cynicism, and the sense of duty he still felt for a daughter who had deserved something far more stable, more secure; safer than the patchwork life he had known. Whatever his flaws, his faults, some small part of him still respected the right to believe—what faith meant to others; its power to inspire, to build, to destroy. The cause and effect of human history, the double-edged promises of faith. And maybe that was the root of it: faith could be a tool, a guide, a balm.

But then the stark, often bitter truths he’d learned through survival would come rushing back. Besides, he reckoned, Barton likely wouldn't give a damn about any of his prior train of thought. In any case, on the topic of hell, Jervis never pictured the vast, cavernous expanse of fire and brimstone that Jonathan Edwards had once preached about in the summer of 1741. No. Hell always conjured up fevered images of a frozen lake in the deepest, darkest part of the center of the earth, untouched by light and warmth and life—the last of Dante Alighieri's nine circles.

'I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.'

He was torn from the thick mire of his thoughts, yanked back outside his mind as if caught in a sudden hurricane at Barton’s next revelation. Jervis shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then reached for the cup of tea Jack had brought him. The liquid within was a warm, golden amber—like sea glass he’d once collected as a child in Bermuda, or the bits Alice would gather along Gotham’s coastline on their rare visits when she was little.

How simple those days were...

"Well." Jervis' voice was completely flat, his brow creasing with incredulity and disgust. Barton’s outline weaved and blurred before his eyes like a will-o’-the-wisp. No more, no more… no room, no room. He felt completely hollow. "Trading one problem for another, are we?" His scarred knuckles bulged as his fingers curled around the delicate porcelain; his grip hard enough to produce a faint, foreboding crack.

He would weep, if he had anymore tears left to shed over their predicament. For Marty and his partner, for the trouble Jack and Matilda had been brought into by association… but none for himself or Barton. He wasn’t certain he was worthy of it; and Barton had no qualms over their actions, he’d freely admitted it at that bistro earlier. Jervis’ hands tingled, as if they were still covered by the bloodied gloves he wore when he dispatched the driver in order to retrieve Alice’s rabbit, wielding his hatpins on pure impulse; there was no premeditation involved, but there was no discounting how surgical his actions had been in their efficacy with each targeted nerve cluster and artery. He wasn’t indulging in self-pity, oh no… nothing so shallow or solipsistic. Not like that at all. Just a pure ant mill of growing dread and horror and regret, one that couldn’t be encompassed by words alone.

His teeth sought the gouges in the corner of his mouth from where he’d previously bit himself in the throes of his nightmares, worrying at the cuts till they began to sting anew.

‘Despair has its own calms.’

#divingdownthehole #tw: religion.#tw: unhealthy family dynamics.#tw: mentions of child abuse.#tw: illness.#tw: mentions of murder.#AHH i mean it took me a bit to reply to this one as well so you're all good LOL #and ooh gosh i remember hearing about the food poisoning you'd gotten but i'm so sorry that that happened to you again ):#though aww well i sometimes wonder what i did to deserve you myself but you did so by just being you okok <33 #but GAHHH you are too freaking sweet for words! ILY2 and you're so welcome!! but yesss you haven't hit a roadblock at all or anything #like that i promise you!!! your replies have been just as if not even more top-tier than they usually are in my humble opinion but PLSSS #you're about to make me cry in the club right now ;u; TYSMMM it makes me so happy that you like my portrayal of barton and my writing!#but omg... i was about to say like 'oh do i need to tone it down with everything going on in the RP? because i can if you need me to' but #its good to know that you meant that in a positive light haha though same here if i'm being honest (': like i know i could technically #make it less suspenseful right now but where's the fun in that am i right / hj LMAO i kid i kid... well halfway anyway but that is such a-#good comparison of them. like i truly couldn't have said it better myself and AHH trust me when i say after inserting some of the things #that i did in this reply i'm even more hyped than i was before for what's to come but i'm also kind of UHHH. concerned for barton-#though i know i'm the one writing him OFC i just... man's has some serious issues that he needs to address and they kind of came through #here more than a little. but i loveee how you inserted quotes from dracula and dante's inferno here?#like you big-brained that FR and ohhh okay. that's interesting as i didn't know that was a thing until now. the brain really is fascinating #in its complexity but jervis having schizophrenia cannot be easy. i know that it can be severely debilitating when left untreated but-#i'm not an expert either of course. that is just based on my own research as well but nahhh don't worry! i didn't take it that way at all #the muse doesn't equal the mun after all so its all good haha. i know that barton is being a bit SICK and TWISTED here but that ain't me

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jjkyaoi · 26 days ago

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i feel like chloe and max having relationship problems makes a LOT of sense considering everything the two of them went through, and max sacrificing arcadia bay would 100% be a huge one of them. especially considering chloe lost her mother to that. it’s a decision max made to save her, but regardless. all of their troubles r incredibly realistic but you lost me at chloe dumping her for VICTORIA CHASE. like?????? it’s like they completely forgot every single aspect of what makes chloe chloe. yes they would be rocky but she would fight for her, just like how she fought for her hope and love of rachel still being out there. like. she is incredibly loyal and not once in the original games did she even fuck with victoria. i’m less mad about them breaking up and more mad abt the character assassination of chloe

#life is strange double exposure #life is strange spoilers #life is strange de #chloe price #max claufield #pricefield #lis #life is strange #amberprice #i feel like the entire reason they do this is that with every new lis game there is a new relationship introduced/new love interest #and that’s the format they’re used to #but nobody was asking for that. nobody wanted that #the entire reason most people were excited to see this game was because of chloe and max #and getting to see them happy together in the future like we’d been teased with on other games #idk i feel like throwing away this relationship and not really giving a clear reason why just so you can introduce new romance plots #is a quick road downhill #this is not me saying you need to stick with someone you’re having relationship problems with if you’re a loyal person. in general.#to anyone who might read too much into this #i’m just saying it doesn’t make sense to me with the characters. and if you like this choice that’s fine i really don’t care THAT much

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mishy-mashy · 5 months ago

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Do you think Banjo is the type of person who hides his problems behind a clown mask?

The guy acts like a bit of comedy relief, but I think he's the kind of person to face his problems head-on. I don't think he uses humor as a coping mechanism. We never see him do that for himself. He's just a loud guy

Look at how he first appears to Midoriya

He's loud, and it steals Midoriya's attention. But he's calling him out on why he's messing up

But as a character's debut, the first things he does are:

Call out Midoriya for trying to do things alone, when Yoichi's first message to him was that he wasn't

Tell him that if he can compose himself, things typically work out

Understands Midoriya's side of things, and tells him he knows (like lacking a mouth)

And once he says those two previous things, he exhales, and his eyes show their pupils properly

The parting advice he gives Midoriya is a reiteration of the second point: It's okay to be mad. What's important is controlling your heart.

Blackwhip is a Quirk that responds to the holder's emotions. Like other Quirks, but Blackwhip goes out of control when the user isn't able to get a grip on themselves

Banjo used his Quirk effectively. He'd have to live that advice to pass it on to Midoriya, back when Abilities were starting to become normal, but Japan was still wrecked. And we know that Quirks are influenced by, and influence, the holder's personality.

Banjo would have to be able to be honest with himself, understand his emotions, and has the maturity to say it's okay to be mad. Just control it.

When he said that for the first time, it actually surprised me. Everyone in fiction or reality says "Don't be mad", but a character on his debut and says it's okay to be that. I never heard anyone say that controlling your emotions and outputting them in a healthy manner is what matters. People just say not to he negative or annoying, because it's inconvenient; but Banjo went past that.

And when he fades, he tells Midoriya he's got this. He reminds him that they're all behind him.

Whenever he speaks, he doesn't make the receiver feel bad, or speak down to them. He understands them, and gives the next step in a familiar, friendly way.

On his debut, he told Midoriya to control his heart, and to remember he wasn't alone. Here, he tells him he should try understanding their Quirks better.

He's actually got a mature way of seeing things. He's an adult, and being the holder between Shinomori and En, he wouldn't be able to deal with either of them if he wasn't mature about himself. Shinomori probably wouldn't choose someone who can't be honest with himself upfront, after spending almost half his life for OFA. And En is young, prone to panic, and a guy who acts like his problems aren't there or funny wouldn't help that.

I can visualize Banjo sitting at a small fire with Shinomori, having an honest, calm talk about life (until Shinomori says the wrong thing and Banjo yells something about it). But not Banjo trying to push his problems down with a hearty laugh, and Shinomori being okay with that.

When Midoriya used his Quirk for the first time, Banjo did get loud at the start, but he did lecture him in a way that was kinda teacher-mentor-ish.

I actually like the way Banjo talks about his observances. He's got the demeanor of a good teacher, he's clear, and direct. He's light-hearted about serious things, but doesn't diminish them. He just approaches it in a way that you aren't feeling the pressure, and can feel like it's possible.

He seems to have this habit of being loud to get people's attention, and simmers down once he has it. He's never indirect or leaving the addressed to figure out the answer on their own, he gives it outright.

When Midoriya used Blackwhip for the first time, Banjo was all "You got it all wrong!" and then explained things. Since he felt himself fading, he could've been talking louder to compensate himself past the daze he felt. To make sure he was talking, heard, and to keep himself awake

When the first Three made the void silent because Kudo and Bruce didn't want to help, Banjo broke it with what Midoriya should do next

When Shinomori got yoinked, the first thing Banjo did was report it in a panic to Midoriya. This just tells Midoriya he really has to be careful now, because OFA can really be stolen. Even if Banjo just panics and doesn't say that aloud

Every time Banjo is facing some kind of problem, he doesn't let others panic too hard. He's not pressuring about problems, and steps back to let Midoriya figure things out.

When Midoriya was running himself into the ground, Banjo was one of the vestiges that didn't show up to tell him to rest. He already understood how Midoriya saw things, and was doing them his own way

Rather than trying to be a clown, I think Banjo is just a friendly person. He's honest with others and with himself, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to utilize Blackwhip right, or be the holder between a sagey hermit and young, scared adult.

#i got this ask and i know how i perceive and feel about banjo but dont know how to put it into words #but i dont think hes someone who only jokes around or uses humor as a coping mechanism #consider the times he lived too. even all mights flashback shows that when he was alive himself japan was still in ruins #banjo lived during that time and before all might #OH. HES LIKE A DAD #hes mature light-hearted but he can sit you down and talk to you about life. then he could go “nice talk” and you dont walk away feeling #like crap #does that make sense? i think this post is another example of word vomit thats kinda cohesive but really not #he still has his inner kid but knows how to approach things like an adult that has people who need him to help them #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #banjo daigoro #YET AGAIN I GO OFFTRACK YAY ME.#i think the last paragraph is the proper answer to the ask without me running through all these hoops #but i dont talk about banjo as much as the other vestiges so im keeping the word vomit #spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #i dont think this is what anon asked for really #answer is the last paragraph i guess. it's all over the place

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 month ago

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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting #with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though #you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would #think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page #disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol #THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended #(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever #so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with #no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know #EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably #It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end #point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc #I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc #rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is #not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school #but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia #and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like #the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot #or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are #familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them #Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol

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discordiansamba · 2 days ago

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his little flame sputters and dies.

he forces everyone to leave. he digs his fingers into his hair, trying to make sense of this- but he only ever comes around to one option.

katara is telling the truth.

but if katara's telling the truth, then it means everything he knows about himself is a lie. it means his father isn't his father. it means his mother never existed. it means he doesn't exist. but no matter how hard he tries to wrap his head around that idea, it just refuses to budge. he knows katara has to be telling the truth- that's he's been brainwashed.

but when he wakes up the next morning and looks at himself in the mirror, the only person he sees in his reflection is lee. he also looks like a wreck- his eyes are red and puffy. he never unbraided his hair last night, so it's sticking out in all kinds of ways. the growling of his stomach reminds him that he hasn't eaten anything since yesterday morning.

he cleans himself up. he braids his hair. he puts on earth kingdom green. he is not lee of ba sing se, son of yuna and lan-wei. that person does not exist. but he's certainly not prince zuko, either. at least lee is someone that he knows. he inhales. exhales. he needs to make something to eat.

he can't let this destroy him.

katara ends up joining him. he makes food and tea for them both, and finds himself calming down further as he does so. he doubts prince zuko knew how to cook, or make tea for that matter. lee does it as naturally as he breathes. the owner would always say that her tea shop would be in good hands, if lee were willing to take it over.

lee wishes he could. so what if he used to be someone else? he's lee now. would it really be so bad if he stayed this way? he doesn't want to go back to serve princess azula, knowing what he knows now, but... he could go back to his life in ba sing se. he's not sure he can forgive father, but he's eighteen. old enough to live independently.

he asks katara what his father did to him.

katara tells him. she'd told him before, but he hadn't believed her.

she doesn't know the full details either, she admits. but she knows that lan-wei changed him. it's not just that he made him forget his past identity as zuko- he's molded him into someone completely new. lee has his own past. his own personality, entirely separate from prince zuko's. there might be some overlap in places, but otherwise he's a new person entirely.

"is that why i still feel like lee?" he asks.

"that's part of it," katara says, "-but I think... I think your mind's begun to adapt to being brainwashed. it's so different from a joo dee's."

lee's brow furrows. he asks her what she means. she tells him that when they'd freed him from princess azula, she'd checked his mind. she'd already freed countless people- joo dees, she called them- from brainwashing after the end of the war, and she could tell right away that their minds had been manipulated.

but lee's mind? if she hadn't already known, she might not have have guessed. she had to look a lot harder to find it. the brainwashing he was made to endure was far more thorough than anything the joo dees ever experienced- and happened a lot more frequently too, she's willing to bet. his mind probably tried to protect itself at first, but at some point it just... gave up.

it stopped resisting, and started adapting.

"so," lee's brows furrowed, "-is that why I don't feel brainwashed?"

katara nods. you have the free will to make your own choices. it's just that those choices are being informed by an entirely new personality, and backed by an entirely new set of memories that he didn't have before. that was lan-wei's goal, she thinks. to perfect a form of brainwashing that was ultimately self-sustaining.

"...but I can't stay this way," lee asks, "-can I?"

katara looks at him. she asks if he wants to. lee bites his lip- and then slowly nods. yes. he wants to stay as lee. but he knows that's just because he can't imagine himself as anyone other than lee. he thinks about fire lord iroh. about the sad way he told him that he reminded of his nephew.

he wants to talk to him.

he tells katara that. she blinks- and then smiles at him. okay. she can arrange that. we can put off any decisions until then. lee just kind of stares at her. it's like she's presenting staying this way as an actual option. wasn't the whole point of bringing him here to make him zuko again?

"it was," katara says, "...but I think you should be able to decide what you want for yourself, lee. otherwise we wouldn't be any better than lan-wei. if you want to go back to being zuko, that should be your choice. and if you want to stay as lee...

...you should have the right to do that, too."

lee doesn't know what to think.

he doesn't understand why lady mai is here. he wants to say that katara manipulated her in the same way she wants to manipulate him- except. katara's been here the entire time. he knows that for a fact. another waterbender, then?

but lady mai had said they couldn't even do that.

he didn't understand. lady mai was one of princess azula's close friends, but according to her, the princess had been lying to him. and katara... katara was telling the truth. he closes his eyes, thinking back to the way lady mai would always watch him out of the corner of her eyes. to their occasional morning tea sessions together. if lady ty lee had always been friendlier to him than someone of his lowly station deserved, then lady mai had always been aloof and proper.

and sometimes, lee realized, she looked at him with pity.

he doesn't understand. it doesn't make sense. if princess azula was lying to him, if what katara and lady mai say is true, then...

...no. it can't be true. it doesn't feel true. katara says his father was the one who brainwashed him, but lee loves his father. his father loves him. he's always been proud of him. that feeling can't be fake, can it? it feels real. he closes his eyes for a moment. tries to imagine himself being prince zuko, the banished prince of the fire nation.

he can't.

there's a knock on his door. he doesn't know why he opens it, but they're all standing out there. he stares at them, wondering what they see then they look at him. who they see. when he looks at himself in the mirror, the only person he's ever seen reflected back at him is himself- is lee. but have they ever seen him that way?

"sit down," lady mai instructs, "-I'm going to prove everything to you right now."

lee moves, almost mechanically. the way he expects a brainwashed person would move. he doesn't move that way. he sits on the ground, cross-legged like lady mai tells him to. she tells him to close his eyes and hold out his hands. to time his breathing with hers. he asks what they're doing.

she tells him he's going to firebend.

"this is the way they test for it in the fire nation," lady mai says, "-close your eyes. focus inward. find your inner flame and bring it out."

this is stupid, lee thinks. he's not a firebender. but if he does what she says and can't firebend, then he'll know they're all lying to him. that he's not some fire nation prince. that he's lee. maybe once he proves that to them, they'll let him go home.

he wants to go back to ba sing se so badly.

lee draws in and lets out a deep breath. he concentrates inwards. he has no idea what an inner flame is even supposed to be. he's always felt a warmth in his chest, though. he concentrates on that, and then... how would he even bring it out?

he hears katara and sokka suck in a breath.

lee's eyes flutter open. there's a tiny flame flickering in his palms.

"congratulations," lady mai says, "-you're a firebender, zuko."

lee barely hears her. he can only stare at the flame in horror. he's a nonbender. he's earth kingdom. he shouldn't be able to firebend. this is impossible. this has to be a trick, his mind whispers to him. you know who you are. you're lee, son of lan-wei and yuna. you're from ba sing se. you're a tea server.

...was he?

#lee from the tea shop #katara: to be clear. i'm not just saying this because zuko was our enemy #lee: ...oh yeah. he was hunting the avatar wasn't he?#lee: oh. this must be really weird for you all.#(katara can't help herself. she laughs.)#katara: oh yeah. this is super weird. no offense.#lee: none taken.

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