#i'm actually writing again a little!!!

[totally-not-deacon]

Okay, writing Elaith and Lucien's meeting was NOT supposed to be so cute, damn it. I better not end up with yet another ship istg

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[a2zillustration]

I carried this thing for MONTHS with the EXPRESS PURPOSE of putting Raphael in it (knowing full well Larian wouldn't let me do that, mechanically) and I had one major miscalculation.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[auriidae]

goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

You ever think about how in spite of knowing their exact locations, the game never gives any indication that templar Carver has reported his mage sibling, Merril (a blood mage) or Anders (an abomination) to his superiors?

I do think about that a lot, even though I tend to ignore the Templar Carver route because I know Warden Carver to be true in my heart and soul... but I totally get the appeal of Templar Carver within DA2's narrative, y'know?

It's so fascinating, really. I've never played a run with Templar Carver, I just can't bring myself to do it, so I know I'm missing out on smaller details of it. From what I do know, this drives me crazy in the best way possible.

Deciding whether to bring him or not to the Deep Roads is such an important choice, not only because it affects his fate, but how it affects his relationship to Hawke. He tells you that he wants to go, he makes it very clear that it's important to him that he goes, too... and Hawke can just leave him behind and it hurts him. I don't think that registers enough with some people just because of how Carver is, like it doesn't matter what Hawke's motivations are [staying behind for his safety, not wanting to bring him, thinking someone should stay with Leandra, etc] it still hurts him because it tells him that Hawke doesn't need him, and Carver wants to be needed.

And yes, there are other contributing factors to why he joins the templars, but it doesn't matter what your relationship is to him, it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't turn Hawke or his companions in.

Sure, the meta reason is it's a video game and you're playing the main character. You're never in any actual danger of being captured by templars, and you're not going to lose your companions to them that easy.

But if we look at it through the narrative and Carver's character, that's when it gets interesting. You can max out his rivalry and be an utter asshole to him [there's a point where you can call him a brat and mock him for being stuck in your shadow, like Hawke can be real cruel about it] but it doesn't matter, you're still his sibling. He even makes a remark about how you might not know what that means [referring to leaving him behind] but he does. He refuses to kill Hawke in the end when Meredith makes the order, too.

Which can I just point out that Hawke has the option to let Bethany die in the end if she's with the circle and they side with the templars? Just saying, Carver NEVER does that no matter what, but Hawke has the option to betray Bethany like that and it's fucked and interesting and it makes me want to eat my chair-

As for Merrill and Anders, I think he knows that if he turns either of them in, then the chances of Hawke being brought in as well skyrocket. They're all friends, they're in the same group... bring one in, and you'll probably get the other two.

I also think Carver just genuinely likes Merrill. Yes, I'm a Carver/Merrill shipper, so I have a bias, but even if you remove anything romantic from their dynamic I believe that's true. Of all the companions, Merrill is the only one who doesn't make fun of him, or find him annoying, in party banters. He never snaps back at her, like he's never defensive with her, he's just a little awkward and nice.

Like, HE'S SO NICE TO HER! He tries to find common ground with her! She asks him about "swording" and he's taken aback by her saying he's good at it, but you KNOW that if someone like Anders asked him the same question, he's be all, "shut up, you're stupid, stop talking to me >:["

Think back to that banter Carver can have with Aveline post-act 1 where they're talking about how the guard wasn't the right place for him [hard disagree with you there, Aveline] and Carver says he was a bit of a tit, wasn't he.... and every companion will agree except Merrill. She doesn't say anything, whereas other companions like Anders will be like "ugh maker YES" and if you have a purple Hawke, they'll go on to other ways Carver was a tit like?? I think Carver and Merrill got along and he doesn't want to turn her in because she was nice to him! And she's a blood mage! He knows what will happen to her if the templars get ahold of her! He doesn't want to see her made tranquil or killed!

At that point, he's witnessed what bad blood mages can do, assuming you've brought him along for those quests, but even so. He knows Merrill isn't like that and he likes her, so of course he's not going to turn her in despite that being his literal duty.

Then there's Anders who Carver doesn't like. If you're in a romance with him, Carver will tell him that's why he doesn't turn him in but c'mon Carver, you know that's not the only reason. My theory is Carver may not like Anders and he knows the man's got a spirit of justice inside of him... but Anders also runs a free clinic. If he's ever taken in by templars, then so many people [including a LOT of Fereldan refugees] will be without free health care and will suffer for it. I think in Carver's eyes, Anders might be irritating but he doesn't more good than harm. Carver knows first hand how shitty refugees and poorer people are treated in Kirkwall. Anders' clinic is the one place they can go for help and actually get it, and he's not going to be the one to take that away because the templars say "magic bad."

So yeah, I'm not as informed about the Templar Carver route, but I do think about how if I did do that route, he wouldn't betray Hawke or their companions no matter what and what that says about him.

[slackershipper]

still thinking about choicale from time to time... the au that sometimes grabs hold of my head is one where cale dies while fighting the hunters and, instead of actually being dead, he regresses all the way to the first day he woke up as cale henituse. turns out the god of death has put this condition on him when he switched the souls, because he didn't expected krs!cale to be this... effective. he knew the guy could do this, but to not die at least once...? it made he even forget about it.

then, since he died, the others... don't react all that well. berserk mode on. choi han decides to make a deal with the god of death again, since he can use all his life span, which in turn would make the other dragons (still not so sure with it will be only raon and eruhaben or if mila, dodori and rasheel will do it too) make a deal with the god too. then everyone would go back to the past while offering the rest of their life span, probably tying it with cale's life span or something.

cale would be unaware of all of this until he meets choi han and is greeted with a hug instead of a suspicious stare. and if raon gets to them earlier than he should and with company, who is cale to complain?

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

For $5 USD stop making everything about that goddamn show for five minutes.

[b4kuch1n]

digital ink comm round 2 done! for @trucbiduleschouettes, Alis, Sygdom, A. MG, @bakugames , F. Thorell, and Grumo.

With this round I've gotten to a decent place buffer-wise and with lunar new year prep, thank you very much to everyone who's commissioned me so far! I want to figure out something for the global strike however, so I won't be reopening digital ink comms until after this week. please stay tuned for that!

[frogeyedape]

I am so unbelievably pissed off. FUCK HOAs

Oh, my trash/recycling bin can't be visible except on pickup day? Ok whatever fine I hate you but I can deal with this

Weekly inspections?????? FU FU FU FU FU

SECOND NOTICE ALSO WE'RE CHARGING YOU MONEY TO SEND YOU CERTIFIED MAIL OF THIS TOTALLY LEGIT TOTALLY SECOND NOTICE OF WHAT IS ACTUALLY A VIOLATION cue me: checks notes. Hmm. My recycling bin was. on the curb. on recycling pickup day. You know. The day it has to be out. The day it is motherfucking ALLOWED TO BE FUCKING OUT AND VISIBLE.

so. 1) not a violation

I have sent them the trash AND recycling pickup schedules, which are DIFFERENT, btw

I have disputed the fact of the violation

I have disputed the linking of this "violation" to a previous violation MONTHS AGO--their "first notice" in this case was a "Courtesy Notice" LITERALLY 5 MONTHS AGO and they've done so many inspections since then and my bin CLEARLY WASN'T OUT IN THOSE INTERVENING MONTHS so WTMFH

So I am posting like a crazy person here instead of sending the absolutely deranged email I almost sent (I did send a slightly less deranged version with the disputes, and requesting a hearing)

OMG. It has been. Less than one hour since I learned this fun fun news. My bin was out YESTERDAY, y'all. YESTERDAY. I am going to blow a gasket

[ruvviks]

– Nosebleed.

Characters >> Rogue Amendiares, Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 4.6k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, blood, violence Context >> This fic takes place a few months after the conclusion of King of Fools!

‘EAT SHIT!’

The screams and cheers in the Afterlife were disorienting, a whirlpool of colors and bright neon lights blurring Vitali’s vision as the room spun around him in his fall and he rolled on his back over one of the standing tables and collapsed on the floor. He coughed, blood splattering on the already slippery tiles under him– chest painfully tightening as he pushed himself back up with no hesitation, readying himself just in time for a second merc to ram into him and, rather than send him flying now, roughly shove him into a pillar.

He hadn’t come there with the intention to fight.

Quite the opposite, in fact; had simply wanted to sit down for a civilized meeting with his partner and the club’s owner and have a drink or two– or just a glass of water, really, Vitali wasn’t sure if Vincent was letting him reach for the liquors any time soon– and discuss business, see if the Council was ready to meet again after months of uncertainty with the Broker on the loose.

A fist directly to the jaw made Vitali regain his senses and he grunted as he grabbed the wrists of the mercenary, dragging their arms to the side to give himself the space to ram his forehead directly onto their nose. He kicked against their kneecap and slammed his elbow across their cheekbone, then shoved his foot directly in their stomach to push them into the arms of one of their allies.

‘Just a relaxing night out,’ he mockingly stated out loud, hooking his finger into the collar of his shirt to rip the top button open and give himself a bit more air while spitting some more blood on the floor. ‘Circumstances have settled down enough. What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Spare me the theatrics!’ Vincent yelled, grabbing a merc by their hair and dragging them backwards down to his own level to shove his shoulder against the side of their face and ram them into the same pillar that now had some of Vitali’s blood on it. ‘Forgive me for forgetting you’re the Afterlife’s second most hated guy after Johnny fuckin’ Silverhand!’

Logically, this should have come as no surprise to either of them. Not once in his life had a visit to the nightclub in Watson gone well for Vitali– either receiving an only partially deserved beating, or a scolding from the Queen of Fixers herself no less– and the consequences of the very wrong assumption he could simply waltz in there after the shit that had gone down during his last two visits were starting to make themselves rather painfully known.

Next time we’re meeting at my club.

The mercenaries had Vincent and Vitali surrounded now, six against two, so far with the unspoken rule of “no guns allowed in a fistfight” still in place though Vitali could not say for certain how long it’d continue to last. He took a few sauntering steps forward, steadying himself positioned between the most dangerous looking assailants and Vincent– he really did not need to collect the hits reserved for Vitali alone, especially not with several of their friends watching.

His gaze was drawn to the crowd that had gathered near the bar. Cato– stood between Eddie and Huxley– grinned, and waved excitedly at him. 

‘Surely we can talk this out like civilized people,’ Vitali said, slowly raising his hands when the mercs collectively started closing in. Not as much of an attempt at a parley, but moreso to give them the chance to walk away while they still could; Vitali valued his free time and his rest, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been itching to get back into the field now that business had picked up as usual, and what better than a good ol’ scuffle during his night out to get him back in the rhythm?

‘We lost everything because of you!’ one of the mercs spat, parroting a sentence the fixer had heard just a few too many times in the past months; yet another gaggle of the Broker’s left behind mercenaries still out for revenge over something that had been mostly out of Vitali’s control, and if anything it’d been blown out of proportion to the point he wasn’t even entirely sure anymore what they were being so difficult about in the first place.

‘Have you tried lost-and-found?’ Vincent asked, noticing Vitali’s now tightly clenched jaw and stepping closer to ready himself for a possible incoming attack. ‘Box is just outside the entrance, right next to get-off-our-dicks-and-move-on-with-your–fuckin’–!’

Two of the mercenaries instantly charged forward, lunging at Vincent– but Vitali cut them both off before they could even get close, body-slamming one into the other to knock them off their feet. He dodged an incoming fist from a third assailant– but was too slow to step aside for the fourth and landed on his back on the floor before he could realize what was going on, vision blurred by involuntary tears as the air was violently slammed out of his lungs.

Hands wrapped tightly around his throat and for a split second he panicked, the situation reawakening memories of Ravager– the ex-Maelstromer on the Broker’s payroll who had tried to kill him in very similar fashion– but he shook the fear before it could take hold and reached for the knife hidden in the side pocket of his pants, flicking it out and taking a swipe at the mercenary’s wrists.

Not a gun, right?

The pressure was lifted from his neck and he gasped for air, kicking his assailant off his chest and rolling over to create more distance between the two of them– only to immediately receive a kick in the kidney by someone else and he couldn’t stop a pained cry from leaving his lips, cursing in Russian as he flailed the knife around in an attempt to hit, well, anything at that point.

Okay, he was a little off his game. Who could blame him? The last year had not been kind to Vitali and while it was nice to no longer be actively hunted down for sport by a fixer and his mercenaries blaming him for a bunch of lies and things he hadn’t had any control over, the nightmares and dissociative episodes that had followed still held him tightly in their grasp and they had made it difficult for him to focus on anything else.

The tallest of the mercenaries– what Vitali could only assume was their leader– grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and effortlessly lifted him up while avoiding his poorly aimed attacks, Vitali’s feet hovering a few inches above the floor as his wrist was pulled to the side and the knife was forcibly removed from his hand.

‘Nothin’ personal, Dobrynin,’ the man said, grinning as he held Vitali’s own knife up to eye level, threatening to sink it directly into one of his sockets while Vitali grabbed the hand holding his shirt and kicked his legs in an attempt to get down. ‘Simply just settin’ the score. Fair and square.’

All the chaos surrounding them seemed to blur and fade out, Vitali’s mind focusing only on the merc holding him up, and the knife lingering mere inches away from his face, the blade steadily centered at the height of his left eye.

He scoffed in return, baring his teeth as he briefly struggled in the merc’s grip– right before turning his head and biting the man’s hand, as hard as he could, teeth sinking deep into flesh until they hit bone and he was dropped back on the floor, the mercenary crying out in pain and yanking himself loose as if he’d touched fire.

‘First fucking mistake–’ Vitali breathed, straightening his back and wiping the blood off his lips with the back of his hand.

‘– Assume that I play fair.’

Someone fell into Vitali’s side and it instantly drew him back to reality– he grabbed them by the shoulders and used the momentum of their fall to launch them in the direction of the merc leader, to knock him off balance and make him drop the knife. He looked around, eyes frantically searching for Vincent– and found him all the way in the back of the club pinned in a corner, kicking and screaming as he fended off the two last remaining mercenaries at once.

Vitali walked over, noticing his cane on the floor– he had lost it directly at the start of the confrontation, as it had been the first thing that had been kicked out from under his weight– and he hit the bottom end of it with the heel of his shoe to kick it up into his hand; tossed it up in the air to catch it by the bottom end of the shaft and swung it directly into the head of one of the mercs from the side, the impact hard enough to send them skidding across the floor.

‘I got it, I got it–!’ Vincent protested, but Vitali had already grabbed a handful of the other merc’s hair to yank them back– but before he could do anything Vincent grabbed a stool from the side of the bar with both hands and rammed it directly into the merc’s face, causing them to go limp in Vitali’s grip and fall to the floor.

‘I said I got it,’ Vincent repeated himself, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice as his gaze failed to meet Vitali’s– yet he took a step closer anyway, bumping his forehead against Vitali’s still held up hand and the latter gently ran his fingers down Vincent’s temple and cheek, a futile attempt to wipe some blood off his face.

‘Oh, of course. Thought I heard something.’

Vitali turned around and immediately noticed the sudden wide opening in the crowd on the opposite side of the bar, Rogue Amendiares herself stood with arms crossed in front of her chest right in the middle. The merc leader seemed to pay her no mind and charged forward– though before he could get even close Rogue kicked a broken off pole from a stool in his direction right under his boot and he comically slipped on it and fell backwards, the pole slowly rolling further until it came to a stop at Vitali’s feet.

‘Party’s over!’ Rogue called out and loudly clapped her hands together, the urgent undertone in her voice causing the rest of the Afterlife’s clientele to scatter instantly. ‘Everyone get back to your business, if I see any more drawn weapons I’m shuttin’ the place down for the night.’

Vitali sharply exhaled, allowing his heartbeat to settle as he set his cane down on the floor and leaned heavily on it to relieve his leg. The pain wasn’t as bad as it used to be, and he had made decent progress with taking better care of himself and taking his rest– though he had no doubt he’d feel this in the morning, and already considered leaving the office closed until noon to give himself some time to sleep it off.

‘I don’t give a damn how bad of a bad leg day you’re having, Dobrynin,’ Rogue sharply said, lowering her voice and pointing a finger in Vitali’s direction as she briskly walked closer to the two of them. ‘Next time you make a mess of my club I’m handing you a mop to clean your fucking blood off the floor and you’re not leaving until I can see my own reflection in it. We understood?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Vitali replied, barely able to keep a straight face when Vincent mumbled something about attaching a mop head to the end of his cane– and he could tell Rogue heard it too.

As much as he hated to admit it, the fight had done Vitali good. He felt alert, now; more awake than when he had entered the club a little under half an hour earlier, and he felt surprisingly refreshed despite the several hits he had taken directly to the jaw and cheekbone.

Of course it could easily be a byproduct of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins; but a little excitement from time to time– or his cravings for it for that matter– really wasn’t gonna be the end of the world.

Rogue gestured at some of her mercs to clean up the mess at their feet, turning on her heels and returning to her booth in the corner of the club. Vitali followed suit, Vincent at his side– both of them carefully watching their footing as they stepped over the unconscious mercenaries and several puddles of blood from various sources, including Vitali’s nose and mouth, which both still had yet to stop.

‘Now to what do I owe this pleasure?’ Rogue sarcastically asked over her shoulder, glancing to her side and giving Cato, Eddie, and Huxley a wave as she passed them by. ‘Usually never a good sign when either of you shows up on my doorstep.’

‘Wanted to come and say hi, if you can believe it,’ Vitali answered, equally as sarcastic in tone, and he smiled softly at Eddie when they handed him a tissue to clean himself up.

‘We’ve been over this, Vito. Could’ve called.’

‘Rather talk to you in person about this, if you don’t mind.’

Rogue’s movements briefly faltered in the midst of sitting down, glancing back in Vitali’s direction as she realized what he was talking about– and a shadow washed over her face, understandably so, while she slowly let herself sink down onto the couch.

Of course Vitali could have called; nothing he was about to say could not have been said on holo and it would have saved him and his mercenaries the trouble of traveling there– and a whole lot of bruises and sore muscles, too.

He slowly took a seat opposite of Rogue, the gravity of the situation a little undermined by the tissue held up against his nose filling up with blood at an almost comical speed. But Rogue understood the urgency either way– flicked her hand to send off the security stationed at the booth’s entrance, and Huxley and Eddie immediately took their place while Cato wandered off to keep an eye out in the rest of the club.

‘Okay,’ Rogue said, taking a deep breath and leaning back in her seat while draping her arms over the back of the couch. ‘Indulge me. How’s the family?’

A rather pointed question, and a little touchy of a subject at that. Vitali bit the inside of his cheek and shoved the memories of when he had last seen most his family members aside– he knew Rogue was not asking about them in the slightest and she did not need to know he hadn’t heard anything from his siblings or his mother since the conclusion with the Broker back in August.

‘Situation is back under control,’ he replied, carefully allowing himself to relax a little now that his heartbeat had returned to normal. ‘I assume you’ve been informed about the intel provided to the Council’s checkpoints? And the returned resources to the warehouses on the docks?’

‘In passing.’ Rogue paused, giving Vitali a moment to grab a new tissue. ‘Your doing?’

‘My father’s.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Why would I lie?’

The atmosphere in the booth had taken a rapid and sharp turn, Vincent shifting uncomfortably on his seat as Vitali held Rogue’s gaze and moved along with her to stay in her view when she scoffed and tried to look away. She licked her lips and squinted, pulling her arms from the back of the couch and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

‘After all the damage he’s done,’ she slowly said, ‘why this? Your old man, the Broker– full 180 degree turn, do-gooder of the fucking year. Why?’ 

‘Does it matter why?’

Vitali exhaled sharply, pausing to let his heart settle down again– not entirely sure why it had decided to speed up in the first place. He finally averted his gaze, allowing it to wander off back into the rest of the club; business had gone back to normal and the unconscious mercs had been disposed of outside, leaving just puddles of blood behind for an unfortunate cleaning crew.

Rogue raised valid points, and he was well aware. Matvey had shown a rather curious amount of determination to set things right and if Vitali didn’t know any better he would have assumed it was simply part of his father’s plan to manipulate people into trusting him.

But he had lost everything, too.

Vitali watched in silence as Rogue reached for the box of tissues, taking one out while moving forward and leaning with one knee on the low table stood between them to grab Vitali’s face and wipe some blood he had missed off his cheek and jaw.

His parents had gotten a divorce. Naturally so– Nadya’s affair with Ravager had been nasty enough as a deed on its own, but especially in the bigger picture of things it’d been a dirty move considering Matvey’s loyalty to her and he had not wanted to stick around even with the ex-Maelstromer six feet under.

Matvey had lost his job, his wife, custody of two of his children, and all his mercenaries in his professional life as a fixer. If all he was doing was still part of some bigger plan, if he was still trying to manipulate everyone in some desperate attempt to get back what he lost, Vitali would declare him mad– but he knew his father better than that, and he knew that he knew when to accept defeat.

‘I will be honest, I have yet to figure him out,’ Vitali softly admitted, wincing a little when Rogue pushed his face to the side a little too roughly. ‘But he went after all of this by himself, with no one telling him he had to do so. It has to mean something.’

Vitali knew it could easily be wishful thinking. It could easily be him wanting it to mean something, and his judgment could once again easily be clouded by the fact it’s about his own blood– but after everything that had happened, it only felt fair to give Matvey the benefit of the doubt now that it looked like he was actually trying.

Rogue sighed and shook her head, giving Vitali a pat on his cheek as she tossed the tissue on the table and moved back onto the couch. For a second, it looked like she wanted to say something– but visibly changed her mind and looked at Vincent instead, a questioning look decorating her face.

‘I dunno what to think,’ Vincent said indifferently without missing a beat, as if he had already been waiting for his cue. ‘It’s definitely a situation. All I can say is that Vitali isn’t lyin’, and that I’ve seen plenty of people waste a second chance the moment they received it. This doesn’t seem like a waste to me.’

The knot that had taken shape in Vitali’s stomach over the past few minutes of the conversation instantly disappeared, and he turned his head to give Vincent a soft smile; the merc by his side had been avoiding all eye contact with anyone before but crossed gazes with Vitali for a split second now, and despite the hesitance in his voice when he had spoken and despite his feelings on the matter– which Vitali was more than well aware of– he still returned the smile, moving a little closer on the couch to lean against Vitali’s arm.

‘So I can take your word for it when you tell me it’s all under control?’ Rogue asked, picking up her drink from the table and slowly taking a sip.

‘You have my word, Rogue. Always.’ Vitali paused, giving himself a moment to pick the right words to say. ‘You know I will act swiftly if things change.’

A scoff, and a laugh. ‘Will you?’

Alright, he had that one coming.

‘I have the full picture now,’ Vitali calmly continued, knowing very well he had not been as proactive back when the Broker had still been an ongoing issue. ‘He strays off the path again, it’s over. I have given him a chance to prove himself, and no more. I promise.’

‘Good. Glad we got an understanding now.’ Rogue licked her lips, ticking her fingernail against the side of her glass. ‘Shame if I have to dispose of two Dobrynins at once.’

Perhaps a little harsh, but a fair reaction, still. Vitali did not bat an eye and instead put a reassuring arm around Vincent’s shoulder, who had perked up a little upon Rogue’s comment– but Vitali knew she was not throwing a threat his way, but merely a warning.

And he understood– the situation had dragged on for long enough and it partially was his fault alone. His mercenaries and friends were a lot more forgiving on that front, but he knew very well that Rogue was getting tired of his bullshit and in order for their collaboration to survive, she needed his ass back in gear.

‘So what’s next?’ Rogue asked, as Vitali clicked his tongue to signal to Eddie and Huxley they were dismissed, the both of them wandering over to the bar to get themselves something to drink before they’d have to leave.

‘I’d like to meet the Council,’ he answered, pulling his arm back from around Vincent’s shoulders and holding his cane between his knees in both hands, slightly rolling it back and forth– a habit he found himself doing a lot more often those days, especially when he was starting to feel a little on edge.

‘I doubt they will hear me out considering the– V, what did you call it again? The “clownfest” this year has been, so I won’t even try– but we have to look at the future. We still have to work together.’

Rogue nodded and smiled lightly at the comment, glancing into the rest of the club and waving someone of her own entourage over to give her a refill on her drink.

‘Agreed,’ she said, slightly wiggling her glass between her fingers with a questioning look in Vitali’s direction– to which he simply shook his head. ‘V?’

‘Gotta move on,’ Vincent simply answered, also politely declining Rogue’s offer on a drink with a shake of his head. ‘We’ve picked things back up, there’s work to do. Loads of it. Need to know if the Council is on the same page with that.’

‘And are you two? On the same page?’

Another pointed but fair question. 

They hadn’t been, for a while– in the heat of all things they had ended up with different perspectives which had led to a lot more tension Vitali had ever thought he would have with his partner, and in the midst of it all he had for a moment truly believed they were done for.

‘We are,’ Vincent said, not a single hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke. ‘I’d’ve handled things differently, but everyone would’ve handled things in the way they thought was right. There’s no bad blood. I get why he did what he did. I’m just glad we both lived to tell the tale.’

He turned to look at Vitali again, that same reassuring smile lingering on his face– and it took all of Vitali’s self-restraint to not lean in to kiss him right then and there, the relief that washed over him in that moment strong enough to keep him going for the next few months.

He still worried sometimes. He still felt bad about what had happened.

But Vincent was right– they had to move on, in every sense of the word, and Vitali’s guilt could not hold him back from that.

‘Very well.’

Rogue set her refilled glass back on the table and briefly rubbed her hands over her thighs, signaling to Vitali their conversation was coming to an end. All three of them stood up simultaneously– and he could already feel the consequences of the scuffle from earlier in his legs and hip, the pain searing through his muscles.

‘I’ll call in a meeting as soon as I can,’ Rogue said, escorting Vincent and Vitali back to the bar where the rest of Vitali’s mercs had gathered to wait. ‘Expect a couple days turnaround, I’ll have Nix send you the detes. Who’s hosting?’

‘We can do Prodigy.’ Vitali paused, stepping aside to let some mercs pass by without getting shouldered out of the way. ‘Doubt they will want to visit the Crest, and I am not coming here any time soon anymore. No offense.’

‘None taken. I’ve been tellin’ you to stay away.’

‘So you have.’

Vitali took his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Huxley, giving Vincent a soft nudge forward to signal they could go and get ready outside. He watched the four of them wade through the crowd to make their way to the exit on the right, and the second they were out of sight he leaned on his cane a little heavier than before.

‘Take it easy, alright?’ Rogue said, stepping a little closer when she noticed the change in his demeanor. ‘Stupid gets you killed, Vito. I’ve seen it before, don’t wanna see it again. And right now? You’re givin’ me the massive impression you’re being stupid.’

Obviously she was right. While he had been taking his rest, Vitali had gone back to work entirely too soon and he was already starting to feel the consequences of it now– but what else was he to do? He loved his job; he could not sit still even if his life depended on it, and one more day of pure boredom at home would have led him to places he would’ve normally not even gone to with a gun. 

Vitali’s gaze trailed the club, carefully watching the clientele around him– and of course he caught a rather large chunk of them staring, quickly avoiding their gaze the second his eyes crossed theirs, though he no longer knew if it was because of his reputation, because of Rogue, because of the fight from earlier, or because his brain was simply making it all up.

‘I’m trying,’ was all he could manage to say. ‘To take it easy– I’m trying.’

‘I can tell.’ No hint of sarcasm, but Rogue simultaneously reached out to fix the collar of Vitali’s shirt, the bloodstain on it still a little damp against his skin. ‘Try harder.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

He knew there was nothing else he could say.

Rogue carefully watched his expression, her hand lingering on his collar for a little longer than necessary as she tried to read him– then slowly pulled away with a little nod of approval, and she began to turn on her heels to return to her business for the night.

‘And– Rogue? Thank you. For everything.’

Vitali meant it.

She had been the only one to know that his father was the Broker, and she had trusted him through it all– had not once turned against him like the rest of the Council had, and she had shown him patience and kindness he knew he had been undeserving of while he had tried to sort things out for himself.

Rogue glanced back at him and scoffed, shaking her head– though he could see the softness on her face even from a distance, and he could not stop a smile from spreading across his face.

‘Get out of here, Vitali,’ Rogue said, waving her hand in the direction of the Afterlife’s exit, and she began making her way back to her booth.

‘And no funny business on your way out.’

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian, @estevnys;

@elgaravel, @aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa

[trans-leek-cookie]

listen I'm not gonna be a Curly apologist he did Fucked Up as captain but I genuinely recommend ppl watch a playthru that goes thru the game in chronological order. It kinda helps clear up the events and gaps between them, bc even tho u See the times, you still experience it out of order.

The stuff Anya says definitely sets off alarm bells but it doesn't seem like he Fully Understands what she means, and I'm going to be 100% honest I think she was trying to repress it herself. This isn't to say that she is AT ALL "at fault" for what happened after and she should've gotten help even if she wasn't ready to fully discuss the issue but I genuinely think she herself was still coming to terms with things, so she didn't necessarily process the full impact before talking to Curly, and a lot of what happens occurs after they're laid off- like this delves into personal interpretation but I genuinely think Anya only registered Jimmy as a serious danger after his outburst towards Curly. Ofc my interpretation is limited bc of the limited pov in game and not having gone through what she has, but it personally reads more akin to coercion over time than a singular Obviously Violent incident (like. Not to say that Sexual Assault isnt violent in nature, just that coercion often specifically works to obfuscate the fact it is a form of violence.) The layoff is a Massive catalyst for her bc of Jimmy, in that she now has a very clear understanding of his capacity for aggression.

To extrapolate a little from the "Dead Pixel" conversation, she starts by saying she Likes The Screen (even though it's fake). While Curly has his quotes about the pixel "not ruining the illusion" which. Y'know is Symbolic Of His Flaws. She doesn't say the pixel ruins it, just that she can't get it out of her mind.

If we take the pixel to represent her Or jimmy, either way the way she talks about it kind of downplays things, like it's a Minor Thing that's Slightly Upsetting, but she's still okay with the big picture. Idk I could be 100% wrong but that is my take

Besides that, Anya tells curly she's pregnant 2 days before the crash, and it isn't until she outright states it that he starts Putting The Pieces Together. I want to note, he says "I'd do anything" and "this doesn't have to go on our performance evals" 1. Before he knows shes pregnant 2. Under the assumption she might attempt suicide, and I doubt he even thought about her using the gun on anyone else before she brings that up. He says literally before the line where she tells him she's pregnant that "being laid off isnt a reason to hurt [herself]". Like I've seen ppl talk about the performance evaluation thing like it's about her and jimmy, but I think he's referring to (his belief) that she might attempt suicide or similar which might genuinely be a consistent thing he's seen her struggle with, given she's able to go through with it. Also just to note: assuming their society is like ours (hellish) reassuring her he won't blab Abt her mental health is like. Genuine reassurance- lots of mentally ill ppl will Not Open Up bc it could have long term consequences (like. For example. On employment) ANYWAYS I hope it doesn't come off like "Curly never failed Anya" but rather "Curly approached this specific situation without the context of why Anya is panicking and (possibly validly) assuming she's dealing with a very different issue"

Also let me say again the time frame is 2 days. We don't Really see what happens, but we know Anya tells Jimmy without Curly knowing. I genuinely believe he maybe didn't do a Great Job in those two days (the fact he says Anya should've talked to Him before telling Jimmy is uhhh. Mm. 1. Your job to create an environment where she comes to you my man 2. Weird to tell her what she should do with HER OWN PERSONAL INFORMATION) but like.

I get a lot of ppl want immediate consequences but consider that they can't really get rid of Jimmy (co pilot. Which is. Y'know it's Own Problems) but also like. Curly knows Jimmy, and we know that Jimmy tends to lash out. Curly should probably Not Confront Jimmy Unless He Knows Exactly How To Keep Him From Hurting Anya. Like I'm not an expert but this is something genuinely important- when confronting an abuser you NEED to take into account the impact it can have on their victim, and sometimes for the victims safety you need to wait until you have a Solid Plan. It sucks but it's important.

And theres discussion to be had about Curly kinda going along with Jimmy saying "well what if we all died" and like. I do believe he Didn't Realize What Jimmy Said. Like he was just processing/trying to keep the situation under control (and failing because he underestimated how willing Jimmy was to hurt everyone including himself).

Like he's definitely an enabler but I would say his problems are mostly before he understands the gravity of the situation, in that he's friends with Jimmy and assumes the best of a man with abusive tendencies, and fails to create an environment that can keep Anya and the others safe. Like, he definitely doesn't handle in game events perfectly (psych evaluation for one- he does do it instead of Anya which is actually helpful, but he still treats it like. Weirdly.)

Idk I have a lot of thoughts about this game and I don't necessarily want to defend Curly but more like. Anya's situation is very delicate (and light on details) so sometimes the way ppl talk Abt it feels like they aren't actually focused on what she wants and what it means to prioritize her safety y'know?

Edit bc I just now figured out kinda how I want to word it: curly is an enabler and making things worse bc he doesn't put a stop to Jimmy's BS, but in the specific scenario we see in game I think he's trying to use his Skillset of like, people pleasing not for Jimmy's sake but for the crews (like "if I nod my head and say I sympathize he won't lash out and hurt them") which like. There are situations which that is unfortunately the safest option (on an individual level yes, but sometimes it's also necessary to prevent abusers lashing out in response toward ppl who are more vulnerable) but it was the Wrong Choice.

It's like. I think Curly was trying and had good intentions, and understood that he needed to protect the crew, but he didn't have the toolset/experience to realize he can't Just go along with things and that he needs to be able to set hard limits, even for ppl he likes and trusts. Like he failed but the failure was "for want of a nail", where it began way before what we see (for want of an understanding of power dynamics I guess.) Again, don't think this makes curly more forgivable or whatever, I just think he's a good example of trying to make the right choices when you never realized you'd have to make these kinds of decisions and therefore are unprepared and/or unaware

Second edit: personally I don't think you can really incapacitate jimmy without there being serious risk (again he's the copilot) but curly should've given Anya the gun when she told him Abt the pregnancy

[onelastsailxr]

I love writing fanfiction but I also hate writing fanfiction.

I'm halfway in with one fanfic and the next minute a new thought crashes in like a tornado, bumping every other idea out of the way like 'here I am! (rock u like a hurricane!)' and then I have to sit there, like the mad woman that I am, because damn it's not a bad idea actually, so now I'm including this prompt to my list (of like 8 fics I have written on so far, from the like 100 ideas I have)

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

Kunikida has chronic pain. he doesn't really know why, he's seen a doctor and they're like "eh, your shit outta luck" and sends him on his way.

he's always stiff and achey and he can tell when it's gonna rain and how bad it's gonna be. pops whatever over the counter pain meds he can get his hands on without thought. is always stretching his back, neck, and legs out cause that's where it's the worst. constantly running a low grade fever.

he's just a little miserable all the time and he doesn't know what to do for it ever.

Dazai notices. he notices on days where Kunikida looks away from his work more often to rub away a migraine or stretch out his back are the days he's more snappy, where he edges into the territory of actually being mean.

he notices that he shivers when a draft or waft of AC hits him.

he notices how the winter and rainy days are harder for his partner. he runs 5 minutes behind his schedule. he needs more breaks. he doesn't pick up a pencil or pen unless he absolutely has to. his hands shake. he looks like he's gonna puke every time he stops to rub at his eyes. he sits in the dark whenever he gets the chance.

he takes it easier on him those days. he at least attempts to look busy and shoulders more of their shared work. he stands closer to him, he doesn't know why, but it makes him feel a bit more at ease. he makes excuses to close windows, turn off the AC, or redirect the fan to give his partner some reprieve. he gets him tea from the cafe. he walks home with him and tells him he looks like shit (they both know he's worried and just can't say it. that he doesn't know how to say it. that he's scared to say it) and Kunikida knows he's telling him to get some rest.

sometimes dazai calls Kunikida to make sure he's alright, flipping their usual script, and if Kunikida's cheeks are a little wet after each phone call, so what?

[alltimefail]

Coming out of fanfiction retirement and working on a multi-chapter Payneland fic!!!

The outline is done and I've nearly finished writing chapter 1! Currently it is set to be 9 chapters, but I'll be taking the next week or so to write it in its entirety and then I'll publish it all!!

(I'm doing it this way to ensure I have a fully finished story before I post chapter 1 because if I do it one chapter at a time I know my ADHD self will lose momentum and I'll get overwhelmed and I don't want that! No cliffhangers here! Plus I don't want to make anyone wait long periods in between updates tbh because I am impatient and empathize with my fellow impatient people lol. ❤)

ANYWAY, I'm pumped! Tickled even! Downright giddy!