#it's a Survival Game. /Not/ a Killing Game.

[agave]

GOTTA add some headcanons to this

laios spends loads of his playtime just creeping along after the big monsters, taking notes like he's studying a real wild animal. he has a dossier on each one and he's well known in the subreddit for being present at the scene every time someone has a question because the wiki is unclear about something

SOME of his dossier is carefully researched headcanon (speculative skeletal structure, mating habits, etc) but he keeps that in a separate notebook

he also has a third notebook that combines canon and headcanon so he can better imagine it being a real organism. everything is hand-copied

loves those youtube videos like "100 things you DIDN'T know about monster hunter" or "I went into the files to deconstruct how rathalos's AI works in excruciating detail, here's EVERY decision tree!" these don't impact his immersion at all

marcille had a phase where she got SO stressed out about having a PERFECTLY manicured, resetted for, time-traveled, villager-cycled town (this is especially a nightmare on the 3DS version because you have JUST enough power over your town layout to make it frustrating) that even playing became overwhelming and she had to stop. but then she also felt bad for not playing, which compounded the stress of going back to playing

eventually falin got the game so she could play with marcille and marcille bought an entire new switch so she could play without going back to her old town (and without deleting all that hard work!)

the old save file is still sitting there and on the new one marcille has vowed to herself that she won't use any manips or anything (it's still bugging her though. but she does genuinely enjoy playing)

marcille also plays fire emblem. both for the strategy and for the visual novel elements. she talks about it as a high level strategy game to anyone who asks. if a character dies she resets

chilchuck has loads of save files and they're ALL stealth archer. he does pretty much the same thing on each one but he has fun every time like it's a new experience

he LOVES survival mode. this guy will fish in skyrim for an hour. sometimes he sets up with a case of beer like he's fishing irl and has his character down an ale every so often as "bonding". if anyone teases him for this he'll kill them but he genuinely finds it relaxing. video game fishing is basically a gacha

don't get him wrong though, most of his time is spent carefully preparing materials, going into a dungeon, checking every corner, and then stealth assassinating the boss from across the room and rendering the whole thing totally pointless. he does not have any sense of clarity about this and just loves the thrill of the chase

he's tried modding but never really found any he liked enough to stick with. his favorite mod was the museum one but he thought it was too much fanfare to bother with. he'd rather it was just a plain house with a million racks and zero quests or dialogue. the real reason he's not into modding is he's just set in his ways (plus if he got used to a mod on PC how would he play switch edition? checkmate. no mods)

slightly interested in TES6 but "will it have the community skyrim has built over the years?" (he doesn't interact with the community that much)

other than cooking mama, senshi really likes wii sports and especially wii bowling and tennis. he's not that interested in the real sports but he'd try them to see how they compared to his game

has watched a million of those "we cooked every dish in cooking mama using exact instructions from the game!" videos and has a ranking of them in his head. his major criteria are how faithful it is to the actual dish, how faithful it is to the game, and how much it infuriates him to watch as a cook ("we can't add salt because mama didn't! :)")

he does EXCLUSIVELY play the wii because he finds the motion controls the most intuitive. he'll push the buttons but his brain just doesn't compute if it's ONLY buttons

has been shown that the switch also has motion controls, but he sees those kids mainly using it as a controller with buttons, you can't fool him, you know he doesn't get that kind of stuff!!

eventually someone sets him up with a capture card and a streaming setup and he's top 10 in the accidental asmr category within a year

Stinky group of gamerz

It came to me in my fever dreams

tag yoself, I’m Chilskyrim

[alientee]

Shimmer Head

Ekko x reader

6k+ words

Fem reeader

Hazbin hotel Easter egg included. Addicted song describes reader.

Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions, drug use not by choice though.

Im sorry it took so long yall I’ve been crocheting blankets for Christmas and life has been lifting with work

You were an anomaly, or at least that’s what Silco called you. Apparently he saved you at birth; one calm walk through Zaun's lanes, and your mom was an overdosing shimmer head who was getting her last fix before she pushed you out. You survived. This was something Silco never thought possible; even when you looked like a shivering, whining skeleton, you were strong, a survivor, and from that day on, you were his daughter.

As life went on, you got stronger, faster, and a little more insane; your eyes changed, looking like a wild mix of two different colors. You changed so much it confused you every day to see yourself. How the voices in your head would go from telling you to slaughter everyone to offing yourself.

Silco had you microdosed with shimmer ever since you were a newborn till now, and you handled it each and every time. You were his creation, his wild card. Even as a child, he had you by his side with torture, robbing, and meetings. You’ve done it all. There were days the voices really did get to you; sometimes it was better to hurt yourself rather than to crash. You can remember the times Silco had to stop you from hurting him and yourself. The scars on your arms, the bloodstains left on your clothes, the burn scars from throwing bone down without any care, ready to give it all up. Either you survived, or Silco was just in time.

So when you first met Jinx, your first thoughts were, This poor kid, she’s just a dreamer.

But she followed you around everywhere, calling you sis, saying she’d never leave your side, she’d never leave you no matter what. Not like her sister did. You didn’t believe her; how could you? No one but Silco ever saw you; he’s the only one that loved you.

Until she followed you to a club one night.

You spin around in the chair, listening to the grungy punk music, drunk, horny prowlers, angry wannabes, and goofy dancers mixing into the crowd. You sit in your chair in the corner of the club, drink in one hand, revolver in the other. One bullet, one drink—it was all a game to you. The gun clicked three times, and you took three shots before it was snatched from your hand. And lo and behold, it was your new shadow coming to ruin the fun.

“Hey, what gives, Blue Jay!”

“How are you going to be the big shot legacy Silco says if you're dead, dumbass!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“We’re family now, so yeah, you are!”

“You going to love me even if I try to kill Silco in his sleep?”

“I’d still love you even if you killed me with him.”

Family, huh?

“Fine.”

For the first time you didn’t take your game too far, or get fucked up and pass out behind the bar; you didn’t even have a mental breakdown.

At least the voices got quiet for a while.

After a while you started to think of Jinx as a sister. Someone you could confide in, someone who gets you. Was Silco the best dad? Nah, but he was all you had. Now you know he had Jinx too. You thought everything was ok; you could be happy with your found family; even if you were broken, you still had people to fix you up, so everything was fine.

At least you genuinely believed everything was alright.

Until Jinx’s actual sister showed up, calling her Powder, the hugging, the crying, the family reunion was cute. You haven’t seen Jinx this vulnerable in a while. Everything was calm until some Piltie came out, and then the moment was gone. Jinx threatens the redhead with the gun, and boom, the Firelights had you all surrounded.

“Jinx, if you want your sister back, you gotta be smart about this.” The silence you got back let her know she was thinking up something stupid.

Smoke and ash covered the air, bullets flying and fighting at every turn. The firebugs just didn’t know when to quit, always trying to get into business that isn’t theirs. It was fun knocking them off their boards every once in a while. You’ve faced them before with Jinx killed a couple of times; you didn’t kill any of them, though. Never had the guts to really kill innocent people; you didn’t want to know what the voices would say if you did. You didn’t want to lose yourself all the way.

As always, Jinx is shooting bullets every which way in the sky, which wasn’t bad, but using bombs to blow up the platform is very bad. Your body hurt, your ears were ringing, and you could barely breathe. You tried calling out for Jinx but got no answer. You finally dragged yourself up; you can see some fire bugs down, but you couldn’t see Jinx. Couldn’t see her sister. Didn’t even see the body lying dead somewhere.

Huh, you were all alone.

Then it dawned on you: Jinx did it on purpose. She really was a genius, truly. She blew up the platform, making a distraction; a lot of people were down and out. Nobody could see what was happening; some too injured to chase.

Looks like she could only carry her sister to safety, though.

You’ll never leave me no matter what, huh?

Hehehehehe, yeah right!

You could finally breathe again and got the strength to stand up. It was all just so funny, really.

Bunch of bullshit hahahahaha

You didn’t notice anything going on around you, the shuffling of people standing; you didn’t feel all the cautious eyes on you. Not that you cared; all you cared about were the voices screaming at you so loud you could swear your ears were bleeding.

Walking towards the edge of the platform is easy. Turning around and giving a mock salute to the firelights with a smile on your face was easy. But dropping to your death knowing the last thing playing in your headphones was your and Jinx's song, it fucking burned every lyric you tried to sing just turned to ash in your mouth.

But at least now the voices would stop forever. The air rushed through your ears and then nothing.

Out like a light

You woke up in an eerily dark room; honestly, it was predictable. Down to the moldy smell, the silence, and the creepy guy in the corner with a mask. And you honestly should’ve been more mad at yourself for getting saved; you couldn’t even die in peace!

“Why am I alive, dammit!”

The silence was so annoying; there’s no need to try and be intimidating. You’ve seen worse. You hate people who try those tactics; you can’t torture someone who’s already tortured every day. Geez, just kill them if they don’t tell you what you want.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you shit, so just kill me already!”

And then the mask comes off. You don’t know him, but you knew him, apparently jinx’s past. The boy savior, she calls him; he looks just like she said he would. You also remember what she told you about him. “Better watch out; the boy savior likes to think he can save everybody.”

Ok, you can deal with a wannabe hero.

“Your on shimmer. You are an addict; Slico has you do his dirty work, and he gives you your next fix. Am I right?”

You’re really fucking wrong. Scratch that; you didn’t want to deal with the wannabe hero.

“So how about you tell me what I need to know, and you get to lay low somewhere secret and get off that shit before you try and die again while Silco just replaces you?”

The voices started to get louder, your throat tight and blood dripping from your palms for how tight you started to squeeze them. His words were like acid on your skin. Just who did this asshole think he was?

“First of all, dipshit, I’m his daughter! Ok, not some random street rat shimmer head he feeds. Second of all, shimmer makes people stronger. I should know; came right out of my druggie mom, still living and breathing, full of shimmer! I’ve been injected with it since Silco adopted me! He says I’m perfect; he says I'm his legacy. I don’t do his dirty work; I help him make Zaun better! So you're dead fucking wrong, wannabe!”

Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy…. And you're used to that.

“This is better? Our people are dying all around us. Kids are abandoned! People are sick and starving. How is this better?”

“Blame Piltover! Duh!”

“It’s Piltover. And Silco, are you crazy??!!”

That word. It always did something to you. You didn’t care when people looked at you like you were... but calling you crazy? Different story. Something that made all the voices laugh, an itch in your brain that told you to break, hurt, destroy, kill, and show them your insane.

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! Hahahahahahahahaha. All of Piltover and Zaun is going to burn you, and your fucking bugs are going to be ash! I’m not crazy. I’m perfect. I’m perfect he said”—

Your music!?! Where were your headphones?!!?

You were so numb, in a really dark place, you never fully remembered how your episodes went. When that singed guy injected you with your first microdose of shimmer, all you remembered was the screaming and Silco whispering how proud he was. But Ekko would remember it all even in his dreams. How you banged your head against the pole you were tied against over and over again. Crying tears of shimmer while laughing hysterically until blood dripped on the side of your head. Only to end up sobbing.

The voices screamed and screamed and screamed. Until they stopped, they never just stopped without music or silco. And you never had this heavy feeling over your ears without your headphones.

Oh, it’s this Ekko guy. What is he doing? Why is he holding his hands over your face? Why is he looking at you like that?

“I’m sorry. You’re not crazy. I promise, okay? Breath for me nice and slow.”

This was nice: everything quiet, everything nice and warm. This is new, huh?

“Hey!? Wai”—

Out like a light again

“She’s a danger to the base!”

“We can help her. She’s not like Jinx! She’s the product of a bad situation. She’s not with Silco because she wants to be; it’s because it’s all she knows.”

“She’s a mess; keeping her here is like bringing bullshit to our door!”

“He’s been injecting her with shimmer since she was an infant! We can’t kick her out!”

“Can y'all shut up sleeping here?”

Bat Guy and Ekko just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t care what you do to me; can I just have my damn headphones? The voices, ya know, they’re telling me to escape and kill everyone here. Soooooo, my earphones, pretty please.”

The boy wonder hands them over and puts them over your ears. And even with no music playing, everything feels peaceful. The whole time, he and Bat Boy are still going back and forth; this time you couldn’t hear it, though. Finally you get silence, if only for a moment. You almost bit Ekko when he moved one of them back off.

“Look, let’s compromise: you get a little freedom, supervised. And we get one shimmer shipment location… not the factory, just the shipment.”

“No bullshit babysitters; it’s you or nothing.”

“...fine.”

You could’ve told him to fuck off and die. Make him eat his sappy little words. But after the way he held your ears, he looked like a kicked puppy for making you freak out. How softly he said sorry. It was different; it was new. You didn’t do soft, not that much.Silco always told you to play your enemies, so maybe giving a little bait wouldn’t be too bad.

“Fine, boy wonder, I’ll give you a shipment that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

There he goes, looking at you like that again.

Like some kind of puppy. What a sucker.

Ekko took you outside, but you didn’t want to socialize, so he kept you both at a good distance from the others. While taking you out of the base, you didn’t want to look at anyone. If you saw any leering faces and judging eyes, you knew you’d lash out.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to smack the fuck out of Ekko's face. Maybe a little bit, not a lot. You didn’t know what it was, but Ekko was calming; his presence was like a warmth in the dark murk of Zaun. You didn’t understand how he could be so... normal with all of this around him.

Maybe it was the fact that he actually took you out of the hideout and onto a roof to look over Piltover. You could’ve knocked him out, taken his board, and run. Why is he so stupidly trusting? “How do you do it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” You raise one back “Be so happy-go-lucky when we live in a place like Zaun.” That made him stop his steps, and he looks serious; you haven’t seen him unless he’s talking about shipments.

“I have to make a change for the people who can’t help themselves; I want to give people something to live for; the firelight is my way of doing that.”

And there he goes again, making your mind feel funny again. It sounds like he means it; everything Ekko says always sounds genuine, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to believe him.

“Alright then, help me by teaching me how to ride one of those hoverboard things.” Ekko’s eyes get wide, and his mouth even opens a little. “You want to learn? I’ve been trying to get you to do that for a week. What changed?” You didn’t want to let him know the real reason, so you decided to play it off.

“Just thought I could kick your butt at something, boy wonder,” he scoffed. You knew he hated the nickname; it was too fun teasing him to stop, though.

“Alright, alright. If you’re so confident, then I’ll teach you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up falling off a few times.”

“I’ll be a pro; just you wait and see.”

You were in fact not a pro. Your knees were scuffed, and the dirt on your clothes was a testament to just how many times you hit the dirt. “Sorry this is taking so long; I feel fucking stupid.” Ekko grabs your hands and pulls you up, grabbing the board. “Don’t; it takes everyone a minute to learn this is no different. How do you think I feel? I made it; I had to test it and fall a lot.” You give him a nod, deciding to take the board back with a little more confidence this time. “What a boy genius you are,” you got a snort in return.

“Now, remember, hoverboards are pretty sensitive. You have to find your balance and keep it steady. And be careful not to lean too far to one side or the other, or you’ll tip over.” Ekko watches you carefully as you mount the hoverboard, his arms crossed over his chest. The hoverboard begins to move forward as you lean, slowly at first, but steadily gaining speed.

You could hear Ekko yelling behind you, “There you go, you’re doing great! Just keep your balance and focus on the path ahead.”

“What about turns!? What if I fall??”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You got the hang of it after a while; you both went back to the base riding your hoverboard and even racing some of the kids. It was a good time, no responsibilities, no expectations. It still hurt you; there was no Silco, but at least you had distractions.

Ekko seemed to show up when he wasn’t asked; it’s like he knew when to butt into people's business.

He was there during your worst moments of loneliness. When the darkness was too much, when the voices kept repeating the insults louder and crueler. Telling you to kill yourself, that you're nothing, worthless, not good enough, burn the firelight base to the ground, and watch everyone around you die. You’ll only end up alone anyway. The smell of ash and blood, you could remember it by heart. Tears pouring out of your eyes continuously, you didn’t even sob. You had nothing to be sad about in the moment. You just naturally cried, and all you could do was scream, hoping I’d stop. Sitting in the dark waiting for it all to end. Thinking, hoping that just maybe one day you’d be blessed enough not to wake up.

It wasn’t until you felt Ekko's heavy gloves on your shoulder. Asking if you were ok, if you needed anything, if you needed him. Looking at you like you're the only thing that mattered in the moment. Moving to sit next to you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. “You don’t have to talk; just know I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” Those days were hard, but it always felt nice to have Ekko lying on the floor next to you, no words, just his company.

He even let you into his little workshop. His words: “You don’t have to knock. If you need me, just come in” You’d hand him his tools and use all the knowledge you had on tech to help. You used to make a lot of trinkets that helped your day-to-day life. You didn’t like to make weapons like Jinx, but you could make a mean bomb. You’ve even fallen asleep to his tinkering and his little nerd-out moments. “You're such a dork.” He wouldn’t even take his eyes off his invention.

“Shush if you're not going to help.”

“Touchy touchy. Here, let me look, boy genius.” When you actually put in effort to help him, he’d look at you from the side of his eye, and you’d pretend like you didn’t notice the small smile creeping up on his face. Sitting by his side until late at night, making new things to help out in the base. Both your giggles and the metal clanking were the only things heard at 3 am.

And that’s how it was for a month. Ekko is coming in, trying to coax you into giving up Silco; you give him a little info, and he folds and gives you what you want for the day. You had a good thing going. So why’d he want to ruin it now? You were fine seeing the kids; you made small talk with one of the firelight girls, but that’s it. Everyone else you dealt with in passing. So why was Ekko so set on you interacting with more people?

“How about we hang out with the group for a bit?”

“I’m fine; I hate people.”

“Look, I’m just trying to—“

“I don’t need help! I don't need friends! I—I need my dad; I need…. I need to feel in control. It still feels like I’m a fucking prisoner even if you say I’m not.

Ekko doesn’t talk for a minute; you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely, his white locs covering his face. “I don’t know what you see in Silco, even if he took you in…. You can’t tell me you truly see the good in what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer him. Afraid you’ll say something you’ll regret by lashing out. He didn’t get it; he didn’t get you! Silco was your dad; Silco helped you ignore the voices; he loved you even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“He’s not the best dad in the world, but he’s my dad. He helped me when I had no one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Ekko didn’t answer you; it’s like he wanted to argue, but he knew you needed this.

“Just... just give it a chance; you may find your people.”

If he heard your scoff, he didn’t react to it.

I don’t have people; all I have is my dad and myself, even when I don’t love myself.

Ekko’s soft words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You have me too.”

“Until how long, hmmm, till I run out of information?”

“That’s no—“

“Hey, Ekko, tell me how I survived the day I jumped.”

Ekko went back silent; he was giving you that look again, and you hated it. It’s like he saw everything within you, and it made you feel naked, like you couldn’t hide.

“Oh that… flew down to save you.”

“Why?”

“When you smiled at us before you fell, I thought you were asking for help.”

You giggled at that; only Ekko would think of saving his enemy who tried to off themselves in front of him. “Your something else, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower!? What kind of flower is that? We don’t have those in Zaun.”

“Alright, take me out or whatever it is you want.”

“D-don’t say it like that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

You never knew Zaun could look like this, or even have a tree, and now the name firelights makes sense: nothing but a lush green tree with the fireflies all around it. It’s peaceful, plush; it’s nice. You got a few looks here and there, but it’s fine; ekkos here, and you weren’t forced to hang out with who you didn’t want to.

And that’s how you spent your day bonding with Ekko and even the kids; they weren’t as judgy, and you appreciated it. Even when they had questions, it didn’t feel pointed. “Why do you always wear those things on your head?” your headphones; you never took them off, never could bring yourself to part from the one thing that helps stop the voices, no matter how battered and dingy they are. “They’re headphones. They help me when I’m scared or upset.” “Oooooh, I get it; my mask helps me! Makes me feel stronger!” “Good, use your strength to become the best firelight you can be.”

That’s how the day started and ended: you playing with the kids, running around, playing tag and hide and seek until the night came. The kids gathered around, using common objects around them to make a little band; music brings a lot of the firelights together, and somebody brings an actual scrap-made speaker playing louder music. Some even start to dance. And in this moment you couldn’t help but think maybe Ekko was right; maybe these people were ok.

You grab the overworking leader by the arm and pull him with you. “What is it?”

“Come on, Ekko, let’s dance!”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, you scared boy wonder?“

“Not at all, but um… why?”

“Who doesn’t like dancing!”

That’s when the music hits and nothing else matters. Ekko moves effortlessly, his body flowing in perfect harmony with yours. He keeps you close, his chest pressed against yours as he twirls you around. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your body’s moving in rhythm as the music gets Ekko pulls you closer, one hand resting on your waist while the other takes hold of your hand, spinning you. He begins to sway gently, guiding you in a slow dance. Holding each other’s sides, swaying back and forth. Every minute you got to look in Ekkos's eyes, seeing him smile at you like that did something to you; he really was something else.

You couldn’t let those eyes shake you, though. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all went to hell; no one really gives a damn about you, no one except Silco. But maybe if you were a better daughter, he would’ve found you by now.

Ekko could only look at you in confusion when you walked away from him, away from the gathering. He thought it was a good moment that he was finally getting through to you. But he wasn’t one to push, not when he knew what you’d been through, but he followed you up the stairs to the treehouse.

And when he found you, the silence was heavy but comfortable. That’s how it was with you too, and you’d never say it out loud, but he made you feel safe.

“Do you want to stay here?”

You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” you looked away, closing your eyes, trying to stop yourself from getting out of hand. Ekko hummed, leaving more silence in between you both, and then he asked another, “Even if you know Silco loves you, it isn’t healthy.”

You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share.

“My mother was a shimmer addict; she had me right as she overdosed. And Silco found me; I was different; I survived even with a small, premature body full of shimmer. He said I was unique, that I could change all of Zaun. I believe him. I’ve done a lot of great things… at least I think so. Even if you don’t agree with him, he saved me.

“But you're not okay—

“Don’t tell me what I am! I’m perfect as I am; he said so! I may not be normal, but I am living instead of surviving, Ekko! Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But you know what else I see? I see how happy you are riding your board; I see how sweet you are with the kids, especially when you steal yarn from the top side and crochet stuff for them; I see how you care for Raven when you think she’s not looking by finding her favorite things to surprise her without letting her know it was you; I see how you truly care for the people you're loyal to. You touch people's lives and leave light in your wake. I see how beautiful you are inside and out. You’re your own person, not what Silcos made you! You can do better than what he has you doing.”

“Is that what you’ve come up with in your mind? That I’m just this lost, misguided girl who was groomed to be fucked up? News flash! Boy Wonder, I’m in Zaun. I was going to be fucked up regardless of Silco! Who do you think I am, huh? Don’t act like you know me, 'cause you don’t! Stop trying to change me into something I’m not! I’m not some knockoff version of Jinx you can fix just because I decided to be nice a few times. What?! I’m your little powder passion project. Couldn’t save her, so you’re trying to save me because we both have family, daddy, and abandonment issues?!”

You knew it was a low blow, but even though she left you, you couldn’t help but think about Jinx’s words, taking them to heart, and everything she told you. “He likes to think he can save everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at your response; you could see him clenching his fist and clenching his teeth. His eyes no longer looking at you with acceptance or worry like you were used to, only irritation

“I wasn’t trying to change her; I thought she was in danger. I didn’t know she went with that piece of shit willingly…. I thought I could save her; I needed to because she was my friend.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right, you’re the boy savior!”

His eyes went from a glare to cold and lifeless.

“Fuck you. You know nothing; you only know Jinx's pain but not mine. You’re right about one thing, though: you and Jinx are similar. So I don’t know why I was stupid enough to try and help you; just like her, you don’t deserve it.” That just pissed you off more.

“I didn’t ask you to help me! I didn’t ask for you to save me from offing myself! I didn’t ask for you to try and fucking fix me or my life!”

“I’m not trying to change you; I’m trying to give you something better! A chance! Silco didn’t give you a chance; he used you! Your work, a tool! If you survived on shimmer this long since birth, you're proof that his product can lead to something greater than he thought. But it’s at the expense of you and your health.” His voice lowers, his breathing heavy. “Please… tell me you see it. You have to know that keeping you on shimmer as long as he has wasn’t to help you. Only him.”

In the back of your mind you knew; you always knew. And yet the faith he put in you gave your heart love you’ve never felt before. How he always stated he was proud of you, said you were the best thing to happen in his life, that you're his legacy, his daughter. But what was the cost for your heart, suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, nightmares, and dissociation? A mother that never wanted you, a father that loved you but not enough to see your pain, only your potential. “Hey Ekko, thank you. For saving me and making me realize. I don’t want people to end up like me... because I’m not ok.”

“Then let me he“—”. He didn’t get to finish before you pushed back, making him crash into the tree behind him. You jumped from the stairs on the tree; you didn’t care about the fall because it’s the freest you ever felt. You could hear the other fireflies yelling, but the adrenaline and the wind in your ears helped you ignore them. As soon as you fell, you pushed forward, not caring about the pain in your legs and ankles. Grabbing a hoverboard before speeding off and out of the hideout.

When Ekko got up, he didn’t chase you, nor did he call out for you; all he could do was watch. Scar rushed up to him, looking at him expectingly. “She’s going to go back to Silco!? We have to catch her before she rats us out!?” Ekko didn’t react to his words, only looking forward to where you had run. “Ekko!” And when Ekko finally looked at Scar, he just shrugged. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.” “She’s not coming back." Ekko, she’s been waiting for an opportunity to escape, and we let her!”

Ekko just shook his head, picking up something off the ground. “She’ll be back.” “How do you know!?” Ekko moved his hand in front of Scar, showing him what he picked up. “She left her headphones.” Scar just scoffed. “That doesn't mean anything.” Ekko just shook his head. “Trust me, if you knew her like I do, you’d know it meant everything.”

You wandered around one of Silco's biggest shimmer factories, where most of his shipments go. You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth. “I’m addicted to the madness~” You turned on your headphones, singing along, tuning out the noise below, scummy workers and henchmen everywhere. “Let me leave my soul a-burning; I’ll be breathing it in.” Sneaking down through the crawl spaces, you laid out bombs everywhere you could stick them. You set up trap after trap after trap after trap. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was easy to get in and get out.

“I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling~” This place had meaning to you… this was the first place Silco took you when he felt like you were ready to work for him. The first place where he showed you the ropes was the same place he had you start your injections. The same place you had your first breakdown. This felt like a goodbye to the past, the pain, everything that made you feel inadequate. You don’t know what you’d be without Silco; you knew the voices would never fully leave, but at least with this you could let your dad know you were ok and that you were going your own way.

“Just concede and give in to your inner demons again~” You hit the button, and it all blew up—the building, the workers.

And you too. Hopefully, Silco can forgive you for not saying goodbye.

It’s been 3 months; Ekko waited for you to return. But after a while he could only assume you’d either gone your own way or something terrible happened. Missions still happened with no sign of you with Silco's goons, and there’s talk about the huge explosion that happened, so he couldn’t pinpoint what had happened to you; all he had to give him comfort about your departure was your headphones. He never touched them, only keeping them by his bedside with your memory lingering with him whenever there in his sight. But today at 12 am, he finally had the courage to tinker with them, hopefully fixing them up.

He was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear the door open; it was Scar. “Your stray is back,” and as soon as he came, he left.

“Hey sunflower,” he jumped and turned around so quickly you thought he’d fall out of the chair. He did slip a little as he rushed to hug you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

“Missed me?” He squeezed your torso, chuckling a little. “Missed your humor, not your bullshit.” You poked at his side, making him jump. “Lies, you missed that too. Everyone else is boring.

He pulls you over to his patched-up couch, both of you plopping down. You lean into his touch, laying on his shoulder. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t need to. You don’t know what you expected when it came to his reaction. But you’re glad Ekko didn’t pressure you to talk about anything or question what you’d been doing. You’d tell him one of these days. The withdraws, breakdowns, you almost ending it all. But right now you just wanted to enjoy his company; being alone for months took its toll, so it’s good to be back in a warming presence.

It took everything in you to not go back to Silco, to everything that was easier. But you pulled it off, and you hope Ekko could see that you really are trying. “Was it you?” He spoke so softly you thought you just imagined it, but Ekkos looking into your eyes let you know it was real. And you knew what he meant; your explosion was nothing but destruction, but you wanted to leave that behind you. So you said the only thing that was closest to the truth. “I’m following my own path now, Ekko.” When you looked back at him, it almost took your breath away. Those stupid, big, brown eyes looking at you with so much warmth you could’ve melted right then and there. It made you sick.

“I’m happy for you... So you’re just visiting?”

“Geez, trying to kick me out already, huh?” He shook his head. “Of course not. I just…. I want you to be happy and go your own way, even if it’s not here with me.” You looked away, biting your cheek. “So what if I wanted to be happy here?”.

“Then I’d make a space for you right now; you’re always welcome.”

“Even in your room~”

“Yeah, you can stay with me if you want.”

You felt all your thoughts falter and come to a stop once the words were out of his mouth. You paused and looked at him, face red. “Easy there; we don’t want everyone jealous that the big boss in charge is playing favorites.” He pulls you so close, too close. His nose and forehead touching your own. You don’t know this Ekko, Ekko who always was too shy to flirt back, who was always the gentleman, who only gave fleeting touches like he was afraid to break you. “You are my favorite; you’ll always be someone special to me.” You couldn’t help pushing his buttons, not wanting him to see your face reddening.

“Leaders shouldn’t show favoritism, ya know. I’m going to need something for me to keep quiet; wouldn’t want to hurt the kiddies feelings, would you? out of all the things you expected Ekko to say, you didn’t expect what he’d do.

Ekko leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and tender; the brush of his lips is so soft. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, pouring all of his love and affection into the kiss. He leaned back and smiled warmly as he continued to gently caress your cheek. He looked at you with a soft, affectionate expression, his gaze filled with adoration thatyou’d noticed before. You just never had the guts to call him out on it.

“Is that enough to keep you quiet?”

“It's a start.”

[merrinla]

Cut banters in the Ossuary

These lines were cut, though some were replaced.

Not sure, but I think this banter was supposed to be triggered in the elevator.

Rook: So… the wings. Lucanis: They come and go. Bellara: That's not usually how it works. Abominations… stay that way. Harding: That's… nice. Usually it's flesh lumps, goop, and too many teeth. Neve: I've never heard of a demon altering its host temporarily. Lucanis: He doesn't want to be here.

Rook: This would be the way through, if the bridge hadn't collapsed. Lucanis: Maybe it still is. The Veil is weak here. It's making my eyes itch. Lucanis (Spite): It's mine.

Differences in the game

Rook: So your target… Lucanis: Calivan. The warden of the Ossuary. He oversees everything here. Bellara: So, where are we going? Harding: So, where do we find him? Neve: Oversees it from where? Lucanis: He'll be in the most heavily fortified part of the prison. But first, we have to find where they're keeping my blood. I cannot touch Calivan until it's dealt with.

Differences in the game

Rook: Undead. Corpses possessed by demons. Lucanis: Failed experiments. Abominations who did not survive the… process.

Differences in the game

Rook (mage): The Venatori should be able to command the undead they created. Rook: The Venatori created the undead. Shouldn't they be working together? Lucanis: Blood mages lose control of abominations all the time. And these demons never wanted to be here in the first place.

Differences in the game

Banter in battle if the demons killed most of the Venatori.

Rook: They're losing ground to the demons. Lucanis: Good.

Calivan used not only demons and clones in battle, but also Venatori came to his aid while he was protected by the barrier/shield. If the player killed the Venatori before removing the barrier, it buffed Calivan.

Calivan: Venatori, to me! Calivan: Venatori, bind them! Calivan: Venatori, cage this rabble! Calivan: Now, Venatori! Calivan: You are nothing to the Venatori! Calivan: Fool! Their blood only makes me stronger! Lucanis: We need to take out the barrier first!

Bellara: Oh, that shield's a problem! We can't touch him while it's up! Harding: He's shielded! We can't touch him! Neve: Calivan's shield needs to go! Lucanis: I can handle that.

[circus-clangen]

Hi I’m a new circusclan enjoyer and I am SO confused on what’s happening. Can I get a rundown of the current lore we know? Or like links for me to understand because like who is marquee?? I read the moon updates how do I not know them. Also monkeypaw was only mentioned once I believe? What’s their deal??

You got it! I'm not planning on posting here until I finish the next moon--which most likely wont be until the new year, so it'll be nice to have this sitting at the top of my blog for a while! Here's the official Circusclan Lore rundown, including what happened in the moons, the lost moons, the puzzles, and the 10th ring of HELL that is the discord server: First, the starter cats: Ringstar--previously Ringtail of Heronclan, and brother of @echoes-in-echoclan 's Kestrelstar--and his two kits, Clownpaw and Tigerkit.

The pre-moon events: Ring left his clan and his brother to join the circus and be with a cat he met, named Goldmask. Suffient to say for now, Goldmask's treatment of Ring was less that ideal, but he loved her all the more. They had a son together, Clown. The birth was INCREDIBLY taxing on Goldmask, and almost killed her (detailed here https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/768067551594987520/wait-if-goldmask-wasis-paralyzed-how-did-she?source=share). A little while later, Goldmask became pregnant again. Ring was there when one of the kits was born, and knew it was not his. Goldmask knew she would die in this kitting--she'd barely survived having one kit, and this time, she'd had two. Only, Ring never knew the second one existed, because it's father had stolen it away before Ring could arrive. Goldmask didn't make it, and Ring was left alone in the circus, with Clown and Tiger.

The lost moons: I wasn't intending for Circusclan to become a comic. This, coupled with some technical issues, means moons 1-5 were lost. The technical issues were caused because, around moon 3-4, Tigerkit was taken by an eagle and killed. I wasn't ready for her to die, so I went into the code and brought her back... only, something strange happened. Before her in-game death, she was definitively Ring's favorite child. So much so, that I made jokes about it to my friends. He LOVED her. But after she died--after I brought her back--he hated her. He hated her so *viscerally*. A non-secret about the clangen save behind this comic is that both Ring and Clown's hate stats for Tiger are COMPLETELY maxxed. I knew I had to do something with this lore-wise, which I've detailed here (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/769542088687747072/anything-youre-dying-to-share-3?source=share). Monkeypaw: In a tale I've yet to reveal, Monkeypaw left Heronclan with Ring, but not long after, became the Starclan guide for my clan. The reason you don't see much of him is some lore I've added. There's a lot to it, but the basics of it is that Monkeypaw is only remembered by Ringstar--none of the ever living cats have met him, and so he can't directly interact with him. Unfortunately, Ringstar's connection with Starclan right now is akin to an Internet Explorer browser windows connection to the internet. So, Monkeypaw is a somewhat abstract figure for now. Marquee: Marquee is the father of Tigertoe and the mystery Tigersibling. He's Goldmask's other mate--one Ringstar didn't know existed until Tiger's birth. A staple of Circusclan is the cats affinity for human culture, and their imitation of it. Unknown to them, Marquee was "there first". He's from an almost cultlike group of cats that have been trying to not only imitate, but steal, humanity, for many many years. It's unclear as of now which of his actions are on behalf of this unnamed group, and which are on behalf of his deceased mate Goldmask. Moons 6-14: These moons were drawn when Circusclan was a fun meme project for me to share with my friends. I had no intention of posting it on Tumblr, much less giving it this level of lore. You CAN glean some lore from these wretched posts, but most notable in this era, is the infamous "hide and seek game", in which the player's failure to correctly solve a puzzle (https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/746608261062639616/you-have-successfully-determined-that-ringstar?source=share) left Ringstar trapped in a burning caravan--the blaze implied to be set by Marquee. The players decided to let him burn, and he lost five lives. Moons 13-18: By this point, Tigertoe got the patrol event where a secret, outside-clan mate joins the clan: Trapezetangle. Also by this point, an outside-clan apprentice named Whippaw joins. Moon 19: I forgor Moon 20: The Experimental Era of video moons that were SUPER fun to make but took my entire life so I'm not going to be doing them every moon. Some people expressed they weren't comfortable watching a scary video, so the rundown of moon 20 is this: Ringstar died again, and Tigertoe found out she was pregnant. (For a rundown of that whole mess of a puzzle, look here: https://www.tumblr.com/circus-clangen/761426559722782720/i-try-my-best-to-never-explain-my-puzzles-even-if?source=share) Moon 21: Present day! Horrible things are going to happen very soon <3 Present, currently-alive (or dead) characters that we're AWARE of, even if I haven't properly revealed them: Monkeypaw, Ringstar, Tigertoe, Tigersibling, Clownwish, Goldmask, Marquee, Trapezetangle, Whippaw Nicknames you should be aware of for clarity: Dave is Marquee. The discord server will only call him Dave. His name is Marquee. Please help. Hope this helps at least some!

[his-madness-keeps-him-sane]

I honestly think that the inability to understand the most basic ideas of ASOIAF characters comes from bad faith criticism, especially if they think that "long winter" is not a central plot point of the story.

Whatever about worldbuilding, I don't care about the freaking bees of Westeros (and the problem is again that Martin has a stick up his ass and should act more like Tolkien and embrace more the poetry and less the pedantry).

I understand and enjoy criticism (1- I think he deserves it, 2- I like to interact with different opinions of things I read/watch/whatever) but saying "winter is unimportant" explains why so many understand the books as a misanthrope story.

Because you have Jaime's journey after "being evil" or Sansa learning the game of thrones to survive while knowing that she doesn't want to become a Cersei.

There's a lot of dark and cruelty but the central conclusion is always the same: be clever!

That's where the TV show failed, in the book consequences matter!

Ned is not dead because he was "good", Ned is dead because he was DUMB!

Nobody said "oh but why did he have to die?" because we know why!

Every single death happens because someone didn't know how to play the game.

That's why Daenerys is doomed to become a fascist (the tv show was BAD but the general idea of Dany turning "bad" is there in the books too).

That's why I will always defend Sansa (arguably the biggest victim of fan's misogyny).

The characters, good or bad, are (usually) incredibly well written, with (usually) a lot of nuance.

From the anti chosen one/Prince Charming of Dany/Jon to the child soldier metaphors of Arya there's really a lot of though and care behind them all. And that's why the books have become impossible to finish. Too many complex pieces to play with.

Martin has A LOT to criticize and I wish he stopped with the bullshit (and the obsession with rape, and the racism, and the...) but I can't understand how someone can read those books and think "this author thinks humans are awful".

Everyone hates Cersei and then Martin goes "Take this, a Cersei POV chapter" and... Fuck.

Yes, she's bad. But suddenly she is a person, not a fairy tale evil queen. She has ambition, she's scared, she's a mother, she's a woman in a sexist world full of violence against women... And we learn all those fears and dreams directly from her, from the "evil queen".

One of the little things that the TV show did well was Joffrey's death.

I remember people being... Uncomfortable. Because while enjoying the death of a monster they realized "wow... He's just a 16 year old boy... Dying in his mother's arms..."

And that, and not "historical accuracy" or whatever Martin claims, is the true golden heart of ASOIAF.

That the world is awful and make us awful

And that it doesn't have to be like that.

That's why the winter IS central.

Because a looming doom should be enough to make them realize how dumb the whole "game of thrones" is (like, you know...the real world and climate change??? The pandemic and the totally insufficient collaboration between countries???) and yet they keep fighting for an ugly chair that kills you if you sit on it too hard because it's made out of the swords of a colonialist war.

IT'S NOT SUBTLE

For all its faults, what ASOIAF is saying (or should be if Martin stopped with the bullshit) is that the world is awful, but you don't have to, and that it's never too late to change.

That you can be good but you have to be CLEVER.

That the kids are the future and can be the change.

That the Starks were always right and the winter is coming.

And that the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

And I don't think he's ever gonna finish the books, but I don't think it's a coincidence that the last book is called "A promise of Spring".

Say what you want about Martin and his stupidity and empty pride.

But ASOIAF, even if failing a lot in achieving it, is ultimately about hope.

Hope in spite of horror.

Btw, a disclaimer: I'm not even a fan anymore!

I haven't even read the last published book!

But to be a hater you have to admit the good parts too!

Listen to Orson Welles, the OG hater!

Jeez!

Disclaimer x2: I refuse to acknowledge any grammar or orthographic mistake, I can't read anymore 😌

Someone over on Discord asked, "I'm morbidly curious: How BAD is A Song of Ice and Fire in terms of the authenticity George claims it to be?"

My reply was straightforward:

The long and the short of it is that ASOIAF is basically a vehicle for GRRM to present both his rape fetish and his Hobbesian view on human nature and has less historical accuracy than Frozen or most other Disney movies.

That's actually a good way to think of it, now that I've said it--he's Family Unfriendly, they're Family Friendly, but both have the same relationship with History: just Pure Aesthetic with no consideration for how the worldbuilding would work.

[tinytablepodcast]

Help Us Choose Our Next Game!

We received so many wonderful submissions from the indie ttrpg community of games to play next on Tiny Table. We need your help to narrow them down! We will be taking the top 3 games to Patreon for our patrons in the Mini and Micro tier to vote on.

Reactors and Romance: Reactors and Romance is a rules-light RPG about flirting while piloting a giant robot. You only have one stat, and that is your HEAT 🔥. Your HEAT measures how hot your mech's reactor is getting, and how hot of a pilot you are 😉 Will you fight or flirt your way through battle? Can you keep your mech from overheating? What will it be hotshot?

To Infinity...: Inspired by Alien and The Thing, "To Infinity..." is a tabletop social deduction game where up to 4 players and 1 GM need to escape on a spaceship from an alien monster who killed the rest of the crew. What none of the survivors know is that this isn't just a monster, the alien could be any one of them...

Hellborn Descended: Hellborn Descended is an infernal TTRPG set in a modern Hell, inspired by comics and shows such as Hellboy and Helluva Boss. In Hellborn, players take on the role of sinners, demons, and fallen angels, working together as mercenaries to attain wealth, fame, and power, or gloriously die trying. Check out their kickstarter!

Darkest Hour: Darkest Hour is a horror tabletop game inspired by horror movies of all kinds, featuring a group of monster hunters attempting to put a stop to a malicious supernatural entity in a single night. Over the course of six rounds, known as the Hours, the hunters must use their abilities to establish benefits that will aid them even as the haunt grows in strength and the hunters become less effective. As Blackest Night envelops them, the haunt feels insurmountable -- will the hunters find the haunt's true weakness and destroy it for good, or be whittled down until only a Final Girl remains? Featuring six haunts, six locations ripe for the haunting, and six unique hunter archetypes, Darkest Hour is perfect for one-shots for 2-5 players, and can either be run by a GM, or communally without a GM.

Dawn of the Orcs: Dawn of the Orcs is a GMless dark fantasy worldbuilding and roleplaying game. Play the magical technocrats who create the first orcs as living weapons and tell the story of how the Orcs become their own people. It can be played seriously as a fantasy transhumanist Dr. Strangelove, or as a wacky game of Saruman by committee.

The Trains of the Glorious Republic of the People: The Trains of the Glorious Republic of the People is a tabletop RPG where players take on the roles of a train crew in a fictional 1930s totalitarian state. Your mission is simple: get yourselves and your unique train from point A to point B though things are never that easy on the tracks of the Glorious Republic. The game requires only d6s, pen, paper, and, above all, your loyalty to the party.

Paratype: Paratype takes place in the aftermath of an apocalypse where giant bugs have reclaimed the earth. For humans survival is a challenge-one helped by the invention of a device that grants strange new buggy abilities. Paratype is a game about survival, humanity and so, so many bugs.

Broke Wizards: Broke Wizards is a light, silly game about working class sorcery. Play as students of the prestigious Audment's Academy of the Arcane who must go delving for treasure in order to pay tuition. To cast magic, wizards must use items found around their dormitory as makeshift spell ingredients - and then use their real-life argumentative skills to convince the living force of magic that yes, actually, a dirty shot glass is a great ingredient for casting a spell of water breathing, thank you very much.

RiskTaker: RiskTaker is a GM-less system built around players making big moves with big risks. Each sessions revolves around "The Scene," a climactic event like an episode's final battle in a superhero TV show, or the aftermath of a heist gone wrong. Players take turns either doing exposition scenes to give context to The Scene and built character relationships, or Influencing The Scene, which means they take a decisive action and decide how effective that action will be. But watch out - the more impactful your action, the more things can go wrong, and the more likely it is that they will. But what's a good story without a few Risks?

'til it kills us: in ‘til it kills us, you play as a group of young, reckless queer activists fighting to make a difference in the world. you’re angry, and you’re scared, and rightfully so. not to mention, you’re all a little bit fucked up. whether you’re dealing with issues at home, struggling with mental illness, or just learning to stand on your own two feet, life isn’t easy. but you’re also in love with the world, and with each other, so you keep fighting anyway. it’s the only thing you can do. the only problem is your magic. sure, it protects you. sure, it helps you fight. but you can feel it – feeding on the most unpleasant parts of you. and the longer you have this magic, the more you fear by those feelings. you worry it might be powering but you keep fighting. what else is there? remember what you always said: we’re going to keep on fighting ‘til it kills us.

If you submitted a game to us and don't see it on the list, don't fret! We will be hosting many polls like this and your game is still in consideration. If you game is on here and isn't chosen to move on to our next poll, also don't fret! We may add it on to the next poll again.

[smytherines]

[This was supposed to be a joke post, but it turned into an essay on the Cold War and nuclear brinksmanship in Spies Are Forever. Sorry]

Once again thinking about Tatiana Slozhno-- who for all intents and purposes would be considered a rogue KGB agent working with the Americans-- unilaterally detonating a hydrogen bomb on an island in the Pacific ocean. The geopolitical implications would be off the fucking charts

Hydrogen bombs are hundreds of times more powerful than the standard atomic bomb. For comparison, an estimated 100,000 to 200,000 people died when the US dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima (and hundreds of thousands died from radiation-related illnesses in the years following WWII). It killed everyone within a 1 mile radius of the blast

For a hydrogen bomb, the blast radius is more like 5 to 10 miles, depending on the yield. A 15 megaton yield (they range from 10 to 50) hydrogen bomb test performed by the US (code name Bravo) vaporized two entire islands, part of a third island, and left a 6,000 ft wide, 240ft deep crater in the fucking ocean. It was 1,000 times more powerful than the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima.

Now clearly, in the show, this is not considered a big deal. Tatiana doesn't seem to be on the run, Cynthia says that relations with Russia are the best they've been in ages. But in the real world it would be absolute global pandemonium with the potential to escalate the Cold War into a full scale nuclear war

Just to give some context here-- one year after the 1961 portion of Spies, the Cuban Missile Crisis happens. Here's a very very condensed version: Cuba has a communist revolution, the USSR finally has a staging area for nukes that could easily hit the US and tries to bring nukes to Cuba on ships, there's a tense 13 day standoff between the US and USSR that very nearly results in WWIII and complete nuclear annihilation. Most historians consider this the height of the Cold War. This is the incident that led to the phrase "Mutually Assured Destruction"

So imagine that a hydrogen bomb explodes in the Pacific ocean. There is no way to hide that after the fact, so both nuclear superpowers would know about it fairly quickly. In October of 1961 the Soviets detonated Tsar Bomba, a 50MT yield hydrogen bomb and the most powerful nuclear weapon ever tested, and US intelligence knew about it well in advance. They had spy planes close enough to the detonation that the protective plating on the plane was damaged.

Assuming they are able to connect it to Tatiana (lots of questions about how she was able to send a rocket shoe from far enough away to not get incinerated but oh well), the US would see it as a hostile act from a Russian agent. The Russians would consider her a traitor working with the Americans. Relations between the two countries would most likely deteriorate, not improve.

And this is more of a tangent, but I also think this era of nuclear brinksmanship (both countries having their hand hovering over the button, so to speak) is potentially a big motivation for Owen. I think he is clearly making irrational, emotional choices post-fall, BUT I also think he is the sort of man who needs to believe his decisions are based in logic and pragmatism.

So what logical justification can Owen find? Well, there's the idea that mass surveillance is already happening, already escalating, that this is the way the world is headed and if Chimera wants to succeed they need to get out ahead of it.

But I think the initial buy-in, how Chimera gets Owen ideologically committed to their organization and plan, is by using this constant looming threat of nuclear annihilation. By saying "these two countries and their little spy games are going to turn the world to ash if we let them. We need one neutral, central power to hold all the cards if we want to survive as a species." I think that would be a very powerful argument to a man who was just left for dead by his own agency and his American partner, who is presumably severely injured in a Soviet prison. A man who has a keen interest in foreign policy.

Because one of many things I find fascinating about Owen Carvour is that his/Chimera's plan is actually pretty rational, especially in comparison to a Bond villain. The Bond universe version of Chimera is called Spectre, and their plans are absolutely batshit stuff like "blow up the moon," and 10 variations of "giant space laser to kill everybody." Shit that doesn't even seem like it would benefit the villains because it's so over the top.

Chimera's plan is vile, but not outlandish. It is essentially just taking an idea that is already in development for the global superpowers, and finishing it first so they have all the power. It's a plan grounded in real world events. A big news story in 2013-2014 was the National Security Agency's PRISM program, which revealed how absolutely massive the US surveillance state had become, how the US was essentially turning everybody into spies (they just weren't aware of it).

I do sometimes wonder if someone in TCB read Glenn Greenwald's book (the reporter who broke the story), because Chimera's plan feels very specific to that late Obama era of the surveillance state

Holy shit this got so long.

Anyways Spies Are Forever 2 should follow Tatiana as she goes on the run to avoid trial at The Hague (I'm joking please don't kill me)

[mymoshangthoughts]

something i think about with regards to og!shang qinghua

i totally think he smashed mobei jun's face in with the rock

like okay the scene plays out basically the same, except instead of thigh-hugging, the original goods was groveling and hiding and dodging and only BARELY managed to survive for long enough for mobei jun to faint

so here he is, surrounded by corpses and a fainted demon and theres this big ass rock over there and he's like "yeah, thats the pragmatic thing to do"

but see, airplane and the original goods both vastly over-estimated the ability of a rock to kill a demon lord. so yeah, mobei jun has a nasty broken nose and he wakes up feeling like death warmed over in the middle of the woods but he's alive (this is btw the exact reason that the system was willing to let airplane do it, bc it wasnt gonna kill mobei jun anyway and it was what the og goods did)

and he was JUST conscious enough to see the original goods bash his face in

so mobei jun is sitting there like "okay, yeah, so imma find that fucker and imma enslave him and then when he runs out of use to me, imma kill his ass" because he's angry enough right now that simply killing og!shang qinghua just does Not feel good enough

and their relationship over the years is basically a big game of cat and mouse with them trying to fuck each other over. mostly the original goods trying to kill mobei jun and mobei jun just like "no imma wait to kill him until AFTER ive had a thorough revenge but fuck he makes it tempting to kill him right now" and og!shang qinghua highkey actually reminds him of his uncle. they're both the two-faced type who can smile to your face and stab you in the back and he's sorta thinking "if i cant resist killing one stupid human until the opportune time, how am i going to not kill my uncle??"

and basically it's just like..... lowkey shizaya (drrr!) vibes between them? and look, mobei jun is Very satisfied when he finally kills that worm og!shang qinghua but he also feels a certain loss because even though theres srsly no love lost between them, the original goods was basically mobei jun's companion for longer than anyone else in his life (enemy? frenemy? rival????) and it's just a sort of weird empty feeling after he's dead

and i just like thinking about how Different their relationship was because i like thinking about all of the changes that airplane accidentally created because he really didnt know that much about their original relationship. og!shang qinghua was such a footnote in the novel that there really wasnt any time spent on "oh yeah, og!moshang has a super weird hateship and shang qinghua did backstab mobei jun but that wasnt actually NEW, og!shang qinghua tried to kill off the king of the north at least once a month or so"

anyway i think the distinctions in the relationships are important for moshang reasons, because airplane and og!shang qinghua ARE different people, so they had to have made different decisions over the years, and those differences are why mobei jun was very much in love with airplane and not in love with og!shang qinghua

(altho i do enjoy og!moshang, but i will die on the hill that their relationship is different and whatever love might exist between them would be different. my hcs might not represent accurately how og!moshang's relationship was canonically but i just think it's important to make those distinctions)

but all these thoughts lend themselves to "what if pidw!mobei jun met airplane!shang qinghua?" because look, if they really were collaborating for so many years, he would KNOW og!shang qinghua. and as such, it wouldnt take him long to be like "okay but you're seriously NOT shang qinghua tho?!?!" and i love his confusion. like i dont think he'd show up and be like "guh, shang qinghua, gotta kill that rat again", i think he'd show up and be like "......well thats definitely shang qinghua's skin but that sure as fuck isnt shang qinghua"

and look, i want the chaos of that.

pidw!mobei jun and svsss!mobei jun discussing why the fuck shang qinghua is a completely different person and coming to their own conclusions (also naturally realizing a thing or two about cucumber-bro bc thats the other big notable change between worlds. bing-mei is fine, pidw!mobei jun always know that bing-ge is secretly pathetic)

also potential for kidnapping? like pidw!mobei jun nabs airplane with the intention of learning just who the fuck he is. leaving absolutely no room for discussion bc he's determined to figure this shit out. or maybe he just approaches his other self directly. or fuck it, if he goes straight to bing-mei because he's like "okay this is above my pay grade, boss of this dimension will prolly have an idea of whats happening"

also double penetration with two mobei jun's and one airplane lmfao. look im a simple man with simple pleasures

altho on the note of og!shang qinghua, thinking about this diabolical fuck does have my inner villain fucker thoroughly entertained and i wanna think about au's with both airplane and og!shang qinghua in play

there's always the good ol' sibling au's (which will always make me scream to the fucking sky "why the fuck wasnt airplane given a NAME so that i dont have to make one up for him!!!"), those definitely have the appeal of i can keep airplane!shang qinghua's design the same

so lets go with.... shang jingqi (original flavor) and shang feiyu (airplane), for simplicities sake while i explore stupid au ideas lol

so lesseee shang feiyu is born as shang jingqi's twin but since qinghua is a courtesy name and he doesnt actually know og!shang qinghua's birth name, he just knows that ONE of them is supposed to become "shang qinghua" and get killed by mobei jun. and look, he tries really hard not to get attached to his twin. he's used to keeping emotional distance from family, this should be fine, easy even. his twin even has a sort of asshole personality. so if he just doesnt get attached to shang jingqi and just lets the og plot eat up his twin, everything will be just fine and he can live a peaceful life, right? RIGHT???

but ofc he gets attached. bc even tho shang jingqi has a shitty personality and might actually be the original shang qinghua who backstabbed mobei jun and deserved what he got--look, thats HIS treacherous asshole and shang feiyu is ATTACHED okay

so shang jingqi and shang feiyu BOTH wind up joining cang qiong because shang feiyu isn't gonna just leave his twin to die but also he doesnt wanna die so he's really trying to figure out a third option to figure out how the fuck to dodge this all shang-murderfest thing when one day his brother comes home from a mission like "so i might have murdered a demon lord with a rock??" and shang feiyu is going to FREAK OUT bc either that was mobei jun and he is Not Dead and Coming For Their Asses or it WASNT mobei jun and its someone who would make mobei jun Very Angry if was harmed and shang feiyu is ready to hug as many thighs as he needs to so that they can get out of this alive!!! but shang jingqi already has a bit of a murder-boner for mobei jun, even moreso when he realizes theres like Chemistry between mobei jun and his brother and just Nope. that aint happening.

shang feiyu: i am trying to keep you alive wiLL YOU PLZ STOP TRYING TO PISS OFF THE DEMON LORD?!

shang jingqi: and IM trying to protect your ass from demon cock, thank me later

shang feiyu: ?!?!?! WHAT DOES THAT WHAT

[cryberpunkart]

Castio Ingellvar

1: Where in Thedas is your Rook from? His parents are from Nevarra City. I didn't think too hard about his life pre-Mourn Watch so it's random.

2: What is your character's alignment? Chaotic neutral. Cas does things for the greater good, but it's a bit fast and loose.

3: Race and subclass? Human mage.

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found? The music room, and he'd be humming all the time.

5: What emotion did they usually pick? Mostly the cheery and polite icons.

6: What companion are you platonically close with? Taash, unexpectedly. But he gets on with everyone.

7: Romantically close with? Emmrich.

8: Who are they suspicious of? He liked Lucanis, but is low-key scared of him.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction? Yes! He adores the Watchers and is one to his core.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments? No, but he is a very amateur opera singer.

11: Weapon of choice? Mageknife and necrotic damage.

12: What is their orientation? Asexual biromantic.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it? He's just trying to survive, if he can avoid it, he would like to, but times are tough.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have? Music, reading, theatre. He loves a good debate, he's probably part of the Lighthouse book club.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike? He loves Vorgoth and Manfred, but who doesn't? I think he gets along with Strife well, and Antoine (Evka scared him but he respects her) but he and Tarquin despise each other.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas? Assan counts, right? Otherwise he's a snake boy in every universe I write him into. Snakes all the time.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer? I think he likes to revisit the Necropolis a lot, but yes, he loves exploring and learning.

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric? The Thedas equivalent of a paranormal investigator, or amateur theatre.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end? Are you kidding? He's gunning for lichdom.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him? He'd rather do neither, but if he can't talk Solas around, he'd fight.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability? Corrupted Ground.

22: What languages is your character fluent in? Just the common tongue.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis? Decompress alone, with his nose in a book, after checking in on everyone.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife? In the sense of the wisps and the Fade being a sort of life beyond death, yeah. For himself? No, lichdom!

25: What specialization best represents your Rook? I obviously went down the Mourn Watch specialisation. The character has always been a necromancer, I originally played him in D&D 5e.

26: What animal best represents your Rook? A snake. His favourites are hognoses but he's a ball python.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard? Quite simple, I think he was hiding in Minrathous, probably taking odd jobs ridding homes of spirits for a fair price.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader? He didn't want to lead, but he took to it well enough. He considers them all to lead in their area of expertise, though.

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why? Hmm, that's actually a good question. Probably the Shadow Dragons? They have good morals and he was already hanging about in Minrathous!

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook? Cas is a character I've had for a long time now. In-game I love how his Ult looks, the mage combat flows so prettily. In a meta sense, this character creator is the closest I've ever managed to making Castio 3d, so I love that.

Zinc Laidir

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from? There's a brief conversation with Taash where he mentioned being a Tevinter galley slave, so I think Zinc is a city elf from Seheron.

2: What is your character's alignment? The same as a labrador puppy.

3: Race and subclass? Elf warrior.

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found? He'd move location every time, this man is hyper.

5: What emotion did they usually pick? Mostly the cheery/jokey one, but whenever there's a chance for the sad one, I went with that. Emotional boy.

6: What companion are you platonically close with? Taash, Harding and Davrin. He and Taash had trans solidarity, Harding is his bestie, and he and Davrin arm wrestle on the regular.

7: Romantically close with? The queen herself, Neve. But poor Bellara tried.

8: Who are they suspicious of? He's not too sure how to take Emmrich. He likes him, and he respects his magic, but worries about being told off, Emmrich is very Dad to him.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction? Yes and no. Isabella finds him frustrating, I think she was probably waiting for a chance to get him gone. They're like siblings who get along better with space between visits.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments? Ohhhh yes. Zinc is a musician in his original conception, so he definitely plays the Elven guitar in his chamber.

11: Weapon of choice? Warhammer, specifically the brute hammer.

12: What is their orientation? Queer. Zinc has no labels, doesn't want them, doesn't care. He's a trans guy who likes hot people. You could call him pansexual but he wouldn't call himself that.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it? Avoid as much as possible.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have? Music, but probably also card games, casual gambling stuff with the other Lords and the companions.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike? I think he and Rana get chatty, and I bet he's flirted with Theia. He doesn't dislike anyone, but he did punch the First Warden. So yeah.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas? He'd have a pet nug if he could, but he's also pet every damn dog and cat in Dock Town.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer? Of course! For gold and glory!

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric? Bothering Isabella more.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end? Doing something stupid.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him? Fight.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability? For Gold and Glory (I swear it's called that, the big leaping hammer smash).

22: What languages is your character fluent in? Elven, common.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis? When the adrenaline leaves, he cries. Zinc cries a lot.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife? Nah, but he's okay with that. Again, he knows the Fad exists, he knows spirits exist, but he thinks they have no memory of their life, so there's not really a knowable beyond for living beings.

25: What specialization best represents your Rook? I went with Slayer, because Lords of Fortune, but none of the others suited.

26: What animal best represents your Rook? A friendly puppy, or a speedy hare or something.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard? A bit chaotic, but also simple. He listened to Isabella and did as he was told.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader? He is, but in a more... Glue way. He's keeping everyone together and happy and sane as best he can.

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why? Maybe the Wardens. He wouldn't read the fine print about the Calling and how much being a Warden sucks, he'd just sign up to be a hero.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook? He's the mascot for this account, but make him a little elf. :3 Also doing all the silly dialogue options feels appropriate, which makes it fun.

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[agoodflyting]

A lot of Thoughts about Enver Gortash and the text of Richard III

Ok so William Shakespeare's character of Richard of Gloucester is very much the archetype for the Tyrant in western literature and I just have SO MANY THOUGHTS about the way Enver Gortash wears that particular crown... (Not to mention how the fangirl in me just loves some of Richard's dialogue and could easily see it coming out of Gortash's mouth, and I'm trying so hard NOT to write a whole ass fic just so I can get Gortash to say, "I am not made of stone.")

WHO IS RICHARD III?

In real life, he was the last Plantagenet king of England, and a controversial figure, but I'm just talking about how he's depicted as a character in William Shakespeare's play Richard III (and to a lesser degree in Henry VI) . In Shakespeare's plays he is written as the quintessential scheming, backstabbing, duplicitous tyrant who will stop at nothing to gain and keep power. He concocts a massive plan in which he will manipulate the whole of the English aristocracy into crowning him king, by creating a situation in which they will be so desperate and angry at an imagined enemy that they will beg him to assume power over them. Sound familiar?

"Since I cannot prove a lover (...) I am determined to prove a villain." They have different backgrounds, but with both Richard of Gloucester and Enver Gortash there's a driving current of otherness compared to the ranks of the nobility that they're manipulating. Gortash is from a working class family but clawed his way up to join the ranks of the well-bred elite through cunning and ingenuity (and lots of crime). Richard was born into a noble family, but is physically disabled and is often mocked or insulted for it. In context, Richard uses the phrase 'since I cannot prove a lover' less as a complaint about his love life and more as a general example of how he has doesn't fit in with his peers. Basically, "You don't accept me? I'll make that everyone's problem."

"How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown..." Both of them survived trauma and violence, which was directed at them by people against whom they were powerless at the time. Gortash was sold to Raphael as a child and spent years as a target of every kind of abuse his master deigned to throw at him. Richard saw his father and brother brutally tortured, then murdered by the queen of their country, while he could do nothing to stop it. In both cases they internalized at a young age that violence = power = safety.

"Was ever woman in this humour won? (...) I, that kill'd her husband and his father, to take her in her heart's extremest hate (...) and yet to win her, all the world to nothing!" Both Richard and Gortash are platinum-tier smooth-talkers, who are skilled at getting other people to act the way they want through use of charming words. Richard shoots his shot with Anne despite the fact that she knows full well he murdered her last husband and she literally spent the first half of the scene wishing death on him. But by the end of the scene he's convinced her to marry him. Gortash, similarly, can talk the player character around to siding with him against the Elder Brain in spite of having just spent the first 2 act of the games trying to unravel his evil plots. Why? Because they're both just. that. smooth. They both have a way of manipulating others with a smile and good cheer - they sound so reasonable, even when you KNOW you shouldn't listen to them.

"Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself." Both of them have are underestimated partly because of their ability to be charming, and partly because of their status as outsiders. Gortash because of his working class background, and Richard because of his disabilities. In both cases, there are people who find them repulsive but generally toothless (Queen Elizabeth and Ulder Ravengard respectively) who live to regret it. In both cases there are also people who ring the alarm bell that this creep is up to no good, but who aren't heeded soon enough.

"And thou unfit for any place but hell." "Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it." "Some dungeon." "Your bed-chamber." They both have a little bit of that freak in them and seem to get off on trying to fuck people who want them dead. See: Richard with Anne. Durgetash in general.

"I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, and entertain some score or two of tailors." Gortash and Richard are both exceptionally well-dressed, to the point of vanity. Gortash is described as handsome in the game, but even fans who dig him can admit that he has a very unconventional style of attractiveness. His teeth are discolored, his skin is blotchy, he's pushing late middle age, and he's got the sort of flat features that other fans have pointed out are typical of boxers and other people who've gotten punched in the face a lot. Similarly, Richard is described as hunchbacked and with features so deformed that 'dogs bark at (him) as (he) passes by'. Yet, despite not being conventionally pretty, both of them seem to spend a lot of money on their clothes. ... this is getting long, so I'm going to end this here. Might do a part 2 later if the brainrot is still upon me.

[spencerrsmopbucket]

Tides of Venom (4) | Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader.

Summary: You've held to your reputation -- the ruthless killings of two tributes, all on your own. But can you handle the weight of Finnick's words? Do you really understand what's happening?

You moved through the jungle like a ghost, silent and quick, your mind a whirlwind of emotions you couldn’t allow yourself to process yet. It was a dangerous time for hesitation, and you knew better than to dwell. But your hands were still trembling, your body betraying the numb resolve you were trying to maintain.

As the hours dragged on, the adrenaline that had once made everything clear began to dull, replaced by a gnawing feeling deep in your gut. You couldn't tell if it was guilt or the creeping cold of isolation. You tried to focus on your surroundings—the sound of the wind in the trees, the distant calls of birds—but the image of Reid’s wide, pleading eyes kept creeping back into your thoughts.

You set up camp near a small stream, your movements mechanical as you gathered firewood, making sure the flame stayed low. It would be stupid to draw attention to yourself now.

But when the fire flickered, the darkness closed in, and you sat with your back against a tree, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. That’s when it happened again: a memory, unbidden, rising to the surface.

You remembered his face—the way he had looked at you in those last moments, his trust in you so clear. The tenderness of his voice when he said, “Please don’t do this.” It was raw, it was real, and it cut through you like a knife.

Your fingers gripped the edge of your knife, the metal cold against your skin. You hated the way your chest tightened, the way the tear had fallen so easily, like a betrayal of the persona you had built to survive. You weren’t supposed to feel—especially not for someone like him. But the ache in your chest wouldn’t fade.

The question now wasn’t whether you could kill again. It was whether you could keep your emotions in check long enough to survive. You were at the point of breaking down. You didn't know who you were right now, or how you had crumbled so quickly. What happened with Reid broke you. You'd cried. And you hadn't been broken in a long time, not since you were 16.

Matter of fact, you hadn't even cried since after you won your Games. You didn't allow yourself a moment to be emotional. But you couldn't swallow it down now and you were at a moment where it mattered. You wanted to slap yourself, to shake yourself back into the Snake. But you couldn't. This was the worst time possible to be in this condition.

Suddenly, a rustle in the underbrush snapped you out of your reverie, and you reached for your weapon, tense and alert. Someone was close. Someone was watching.

It grows louder, more deliberate now, signaling a presence that’s more than just an animal or another lost tribute. You freeze, every muscle in your body coiled in anticipation.

Your hand tightens around the knife, and you prepare yourself for another fight. But then a voice cuts through the silence, smooth and calm, familiar yet foreign in the context of the games.

“Well, well... what have we here?”

You turn sharply, and there, standing just beyond the flickering light of your campfire, is Finnick Odair. His sea-green eyes gleam with amusement, though there's something shadowed in his expression. The tousled curls of his hair catch the firelight, and the tightness of his jaw hints at something darker beneath the surface of his usual effortless charm.

"Finnick," you breathe, your voice steady but laced with wariness. His reputation precedes him, but there’s more to him than the arena’s deadly darling. He’s been through hell, just like you.

His gaze sweeps over you with a knowing look—assessing, calculating. He spots the bloodstains on your clothes, the wildness in your eyes, and he doesn’t look away. Instead, he takes a step closer, as if drawn to something in you. Maybe it’s the vulnerability you try to hide, or maybe it’s something darker, something he recognizes in himself.

“You’re alone,” he notes, his voice soft, almost as if speaking to himself. “Funny, I thought I’d be the one in that position.”

You don’t respond at first, eyes narrowing. “What do you want, Finnick?”

He smirks, stepping closer still, his presence almost magnetic. “To survive. Same as you.”

His eyes flicker over your face, and for a moment, you see something other than the cocky, untouchable victor. There’s a heaviness in his gaze, an understanding that cuts deeper than most. For just a second, he isn’t the charming, confident tribute you’ve heard about. He’s just a person. A survivor, like you.

“You really did it, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low, a trace of something almost like admiration—or pity—flickering in his eyes. “Took him out. Just like that.”

Your grip on your knife tightens again, but not out of threat—out of something you can't quite name.

“Don't talk about things you don't understand. Why are you here, Finnick?” you ask again, your voice sharper this time, determined not to let him break through whatever shell you’ve built around yourself.

His smile softens, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not the only one who knows how to survive, sweetheart. Maybe I’m here to offer you a deal.”

You raise an eyebrow, not trusting the glint in his eyes. “What kind of deal?”

He leans forward, just enough to make your heart race. “I don’t need allies. I need distractions. And I think we could help each other out.”

A deal? You remind yourself what you'd said when you were in the tube, floating up to the arena.

Ignore Finnick Odair.

You had never betrayed something you said. You were dead set on any conviction you'd made.

Your face twists into a snarl, a menacing glare in your eyes. "Get lost, Odair. Before I decide to do what we came for."

Finnick takes another step forward, not intimidated by your show of teeth, his eyes scanning you with a strange, unreadable expression. The tension in the air thickens, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing against you.

“You know,” he says casually, leaning against a nearby tree, “sometimes the arena feels like just the beginning, doesn’t it?” He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but you feel the subtle weight of his words, as if they’re meant for someone who understands the unspoken language of survivors.

You freeze. The words hang in the air, both an invitation and a warning. “What are you talking about?”

Finnick’s eyes flicker toward you for the briefest moment, his gaze sharp. “I’m talking about how this place isn’t the end of things. Not for people like us.”

You don’t respond immediately, the implication of his words nagging at the edges of your mind. He continues as if nothing significant has been said, his voice smooth and nonchalant. “What happens here—well, it’s only part of the story. The rest... that’s up to those who choose to survive long enough.”

His words are laced with meaning you can’t quite decipher, and yet, they carry an undeniable weight. A shift in the air. A subtle promise.

“There’s always something more,” he adds, his tone light, but his eyes darkening briefly as if a shadow passed over them. “Doesn’t matter if it’s people or something else. Things change. Sometimes faster than we’re ready for.”

You watch him carefully, trying to read between the lines, but Finnick’s expression is guarded, his usual cocky smile replaced by something more somber, more real. The flicker of something in his eyes makes you wonder—had he been involved in something more than just the Games?

“And what do you expect from me?” you ask, your voice hardening, though you can't shake the suspicion gnawing at the back of your mind.

He tilts his head, his lips curling slightly into a half-smile. “Expect? I don’t expect anything. But I’m not blind, either. Survival isn’t just about beating the other tributes. It’s about playing the game the way it’s meant to be played.” His eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes you swallow hard. “If you’re smart, you’ll figure out what the real game is soon enough.”

His words hang in the air like a cryptic riddle, one that carries far more weight than a mere survival instinct. His smile fades into something far more serious, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Finnick’s motives than just survival.

“Just... don’t forget, sweetheart,” he adds, his voice low, almost a whisper now. “Sometimes, the ones who seem like the enemy are just players like you. And sometimes, the real ones you need to watch out for are the ones you can’t see coming.”

You catch the shift in his tone—the subtle warning buried in his words. You don’t know whether he’s talking about the other tributes, or something far more dangerous, far more insidious.

But it’s enough to make your skin crawl. The silence is too. It envelopes you, taunts you with the emotions that were now pouring through your mask, the reality of what you'd done. Everything clashes in your brain and your chest.

The flames cast flickering shadows on your faces, but it’s not enough to hide the turmoil you feel. The jungle around you is quiet, but the silence is suffocating. The weight of Reid’s death is still fresh, his voice echoing in your mind. The image of his pleading eyes won’t fade. You can still hear him, still feel the tremble in his voice, as if he’s begging for mercy, for life.

Your hands tremble as you clutch the knife, the metal cold but grounding in your palm. It’s the only thing that’s been steady in this madness. And yet, it feels like it’s losing its purpose. You could feel the guilt creeping in, curling like smoke around your chest. Was it really the right choice? Was it survival, or was it something else? The line between the two was so blurry now.

You don’t look at Finnick. You can’t. If you do, you might break.

“Don’t,” Finnick says softly, his voice low enough to carry a trace of something unspoken. “Don’t shut me out.” He knows, somehow, that you're not just fighting the Games anymore. You're fighting something inside yourself.

“I didn’t... I didn’t want to,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. The admission hangs heavy in the air. “I didn’t want to do it, but I had to.”

His gaze softens, and for a moment, he’s no longer the cocky victor, the charming tribute that everyone has written off as a ‘lost cause.’ His eyes are warm with something you can’t place, and there’s an understanding in them that unsettles you. “I know,” he says quietly. “I know you didn’t.”

The fire crackles between you, and you can feel the rawness in his words. He’s not asking you to explain, and he’s not judging you. He’s just there. And for some reason, that makes it harder to keep your walls up.

“I heard him,” you whisper, voice trembling. “His voice... I heard him begging. I couldn’t stop. I just... I just had to do it. He wouldn’t stop... He wouldn’t stop begging.” Your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself feel it—the weight of what you’ve done.

Finnick’s expression doesn’t change, but his presence is suddenly much closer. He reaches out slowly, his hand just hovering near your shoulder before he finally lets it land gently. The touch is comforting, solid, as if he’s offering you some kind of anchor.

“You had to,” Finnick says softly. His voice is gentle, but firm, as if he knows what you’re going through better than anyone. “In here, we do what we have to. It’s not about right or wrong anymore. It’s about surviving. And you survived. That’s what matters.”

Your chest tightens, the words too heavy to bear. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” you murmur, the admission slipping out like a secret you’ve kept for too long.

Finnick doesn’t answer immediately. His fingers twitch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. He just sits with you in the silence, letting it linger between you both.

When he speaks again, his tone is softer, more personal than you expect. “You’re still you. You’re still the person who made the choice to survive. And that’s not something you should be ashamed of. You’re a fighter. You always will be. We all are.”

You glance up at him then, the weight of his words sinking in. His eyes meet yours, and for a second, you see something raw—something far more than the person everyone else knows. You see the person behind the victor’s mask, the one who’s lost so much, and the one who knows what it’s like to be caught between surviving and losing yourself in the process.

“I didn’t mean to... let it change me,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to lose myself. I'm strong. I'm a snake.”

Finnick’s hand rests briefly on your shoulder before he withdraws it, but the warmth of his touch lingers. “We all lose a little of ourselves in here. But you haven’t lost everything. You still have a choice. You still have a chance to be something more than just the Games.”

You’re silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. There’s a part of you that wonders if he’s right, or if you’ve already crossed that line, but in that moment, you allow yourself to believe him—just for a second. You cling to the thought that maybe, just maybe, there’s more to your survival than what the arena has forced you to become.

Finnick stands, offering you a hand. “Come on. Let’s keep moving. We’ve still got time.”

His voice is steady, like he’s trying to pull you back into the present, back into the fight. But this time, it feels different. This time, you’re not alone. You look at his hand, hesitant at first, then take it, letting him pull you to your feet. The warmth of his fingers between yours makes you feel things that you don't want to acknowledge. This is the first time you've let someone touch you in years.

And for the first time since the Games began, you feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s a way out of this. You’re still fighting. You’re still here. And that means you’re not done yet.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 28

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mention of guns, description of murder, description of shooting, description of dead body, arguments

The room felt suffocating after we watched the footage. It was as if all the air had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a heavy, oppressive silence. My hands were trembling, still resting on the keyboard where I’d paused the video. The image of Vince standing over Danny’s lifeless body was frozen on the screen, but it was seared into my mind.

I forced myself to breathe, in and out, but the weight in my chest wouldn’t ease. Turning to look at the others, I saw their reactions mirrored my own. Chris stood behind me, his face pale and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. His eyes were glued to the screen, a storm of rage and disbelief swirling in their depths.

Willow sat on the edge of the couch, her head bowed and her hands clasped together like she was praying. She looked like she might be sick. Nate was the only one moving, pacing back and forth across the room like he was trying to outrun the images we’d just witnessed.

No one said anything for a long time. The silence was unbearable, but none of us seemed to know how to break it. Finally, I closed down the computer, shutting off the horrific scene but not the emotions that came with it.

“That bastard” Nate spat, stopping his pacing to glare at the now-blank screen. “He didn’t even hesitate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He-he just killed him. Like it was nothing.”

Chris turned away from the screen, rubbing a hand over his face.

Willow let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how you guys deal with this. How you’ve been dealing with it. This is..this is so much worse than I thought.”

“It’s not just Danny” I said, my voice trembling but steadying with each word. “If we’ve seen this, imagine how much worse Vince has done that we don’t know about. You could’ve ended up like this too Chris. He’s dangerous, and if we don’t do something, he’ll keep getting away with it.”

Chris moved closer to me, his voice low. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re right. We can’t stop now. This is our chance to take him down.”

I looked at him, my chest tightening at the pain and determination in his expression. He was trying to be strong, but I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

“We need to talk about what happens next” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “For now, Chris, it’s not safe for you to leave this place. Vince has people everywhere, and if they see you, it’s game over. You have to stay here.”

Chris looked up at me, his jaw tightening. “You’re saying I just sit here while the rest of you go back and forth, putting yourselves at risk? I can’t-”

“You have to.” I interrupted firmly. “If Vince realizes you’re alive, all of this falls apart. He’ll come after you, and he won’t hesitate. You staying here isn’t just about your safety, it’s about giving us a chance to end this.”

Willow nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s right. This place is out of the way, and no one knows you’re here. It’s the safest option, for now.”

Chris exhaled. “And what about the rest of you?“

We’ll be careful” Nate said, his voice firm. “We’ll keep our heads down, do what we need to do, and get out. Besides..” He hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “When the rest of the Crimson Cartel sees that footage, sees what Vince did to Danny, they’ll turn on him. You know how much Danny meant to everyone.”

Chris nodded slowly, his expression darkening. “None of the guys in the footage were part of Crimson. They weren’t our people. But Danny.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked away.

“Everyone loved him” I said softly, reaching for Chris’s hand. “When they find out Vince is behind his death, they won’t stand by him. They’ll turn.”

Chris finally nodded, his grip tightening on my hand. “Fine. I’ll stay. But promise me you’ll all be careful out there. I can’t-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I just can’t lose anyone else.”

“You won’t” I said firmly. “We’ve got this. We’re going to end this.”

Willow stood up, brushing off her hands. “Well, if that’s settled, I’m making a list of what we’ll need for the back and forth trips. Food, clothes, maybe even disguises for when we’re in Boston.”

Chris snorted softly, the faintest trace of a smile appearing. “Disguises? What, are we pulling a heist now?”

Willow smirked. “If the shoe fits.”

The mood lightened just a little, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I saw a hint of hope in Chris’s eyes. We weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least we had a plan. And as long as we stuck together, I believed we could see it through.

The first rays of sunlight started peeking through the curtains, and the exhaustion of the night finally caught up with all of us. Willow was the head to bed, stretching her arms over her head and muttering something about getting at least a couple of hours of sleep before her brain gave out.

“I think we all need it” I said, standing up. My legs felt like jelly, and my head pounded from the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through me all night.

Willow and Nate had already disappeared into their rooms, leaving Chris and I standing in the dimly lit living room. I placed a hand on his arm. “You should sleep too. We’ll figure everything out in the morning, or, well, later today.”

He gave me a faint smile, brushing his thumb across my knuckles before heading toward our room.

Once he was gone, I set an alarm for 10am and followed him toward our room, flopping onto the bed. My body was begging for rest, but my mind raced with everything that lay ahead.

By now, I’d practically abandoned my college routine. The thought of catching up on my workload made my chest tighten with anxiety, but I clung to the hope that my professor would understand. Surely, with the information I had to share, he’d see why I’d been so preoccupied.

Before I could spiral too far, I made a mental note to ask Nate in the morning if he wanted to drive back to Boston with me.

I stared at the ceiling for a long moment before finally closing my eyes. The sun was almost fully risen now, casting a soft glow through the window, but for the first time in days, I let myself give in to the pull of sleep.

-

The buzz of my alarm startled me awake, yanking me from a restless sleep. For a moment, I stared at the ceiling, disoriented, until everything from the night before came rushing back. I groaned softly, rolling over to check my phone. It was already 10:15. I’d snoozed my alarm more times than I realized.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror was a harsh reminder of the toll this week had taken, dark circles ringed my eyes, and my hair was a mess. I looked like I’d been through hell, and in a way, I had.

By the time I made my way into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted me. Nate was already there, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand. He looked equally worn out, his usual energy dulled by the weight of the situation.

“Morning” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Morning” I replied, grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup. The first sip was bliss, the caffeine slowly tricking my body into a false sense of alertness.

We stood in silence for a while, the events of the past 24 hours hanging heavily in the air. It was Nate who finally broke it. “What’s the plan today?”

“I need to head back to Boston” I said. “I left my laptop at home, and I have to figure out what to say to my professor. At this rate, I’ve probably fallen so far behind, but... I don’t know, maybe if I explain some of this, he’ll cut me some slack.”

“You think you’ll tell him everything?” Nate asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Not everything,” I said quickly. “Just enough to make it clear that I’ve been dealing with something serious. I’ll frame it around the legal side of things, like how I’m trying to help someone navigate.. a dangerous situation.”

Nate nodded, considering my words. “I’ll drive you back” he offered.

“You sure? You’ve barely slept.”

“So have you” he countered. “Besides, it’s better if we stick together for now. You don’t need to be traveling alone, not with everything that’s going on.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

As we got ready to leave, I grabbed my burner phone from the counter and hesitated. “I think I’ll leave this here” I said, placing it back down. “I don’t want to risk bringing it into the city.”

“Smart move” Nate said, already heading for the door. I made sure I had the USB in my pocket and followed him out.

The drive back to Boston started in silence, both of us too drained to muster small talk. I stared out the window, watching the trees blur into the cityscape as we approached the familiar streets. The normalcy of it all felt jarring. How could everything look so unchanged when my entire world had been flipped upside down?

“You doing okay?” Nate asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

I turned to him, offering a faint smile. “Define ‘okay.’”

He smirked faintly, his eyes still on the road. “Fair point.”

“Thanks for driving me” I said after a beat. 

“Don’t mention it” he said. “You’ve been holding up pretty damn well through all this, you know.”

I let out a dry laugh. “If by ‘holding up,’ you mean barely keeping it together, then sure.”

Nate glanced at me briefly, a rare softness in his expression. “You’re tougher than you think. Not many people would have stuck around, let alone tried to help us the way you have.”

The unexpected compliment made my cheeks warm. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot coming from you.”

When we finally pulled up to my house, I felt a strange mix of relief and unease. It had only been over 12 hours since I’d been home, and stepping out of the car felt surreal, like I was returning to a life that no longer fit.

“I’ll check in with my professor and try get a meeting with him today” I told Nate as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Do you want to meet me back here at 5pm?”

“Yeah” he said with a nod. “We can head back then.”

“Alright. Stay safe, okay?”

“You too.”

I watched him drive off before turning to face the front door of my house. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. I made my way to the kitchen, where my normal phone sat abandoned on the counter. Picking it up, I unlocked the screen, only to be met with a flurry of missed notifications. Emails, texts, and calendar reminders from college flooded my home screen, each one a stark reminder of how much I’d let slip through the cracks.

Ignoring the overwhelming wave of responsibility, I opened Google and searched for my professor's office phone number. Professor Hawkins was one of the few people I trusted, someone who had always been approachable and understanding. If anyone could offer guidance without prying too much, it was him.

I hesitated for a moment, my thumb hovering over his office number. What would I even say? How could I explain everything without giving too much away?

Taking a deep breath, I tapped the number and held the phone to my ear. It rang twice before a familiar, warm voice answered.

“Professor Hawkins speaking.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s Y/n Y/l/n..” I said, trying to steady my voice.

“Y/n! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You’ve been absent from class for over a week, is everything alright?”

“Sort of..” I said, my words faltering. “I’ve been dealing with.. a complicated situation. I was hoping I could meet with you to explain and maybe get some guidance on how to move forward. It’s related to my studies, well, partly, but it’s also personal.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I held my breath, worried he might dismiss me outright.

“Of course” he said finally. “I have some time this afternoon. Would 2pm work for you?”

Relief flooded through me. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much professor.”

“Not a problem, Y/n. I’ll see you in my office at 2.”

As I hung up, I leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. This was a step forward, a small one, but forward nonetheless.

I grabbed my laptop from my desk and slipped it into my bag along with a notebook. My 

After double checking that I had everything I needed, I locked up the house and headed to campus.

Chris’s POV

The morning light seeped through the thin curtains of the Airbnb, casting a golden hue across the room, I sat up, rubbing my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. My mind was still clouded by the events of last night. But now, there was an absence I couldn’t ignore. Y/n wasn’t next to me. I got up and made my way to the living room.

“Morning” Willow’s voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room, a mug of coffee in hand. She was already dressed, looking far more put together than I felt.

“Morning? It’s 2pm..” I muttered, glancing toward the hallway. “Where’s Y/n? And Nate?”

“They left early. Y/n needed to take care of some things back in Boston, and Nate’s her chauffeur for the day.” She smirked, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

I frowned, the thought of Y/n leaving without a word twisting in my chest. “Did she say anything before she left?”

“Something about needing to talk to her professor” Willow said, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, she’ll be back. You’re not gonna lose her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I huffed, leaning back against the couch. 

Anyway, how’re you holding up after last night?”

I glanced at her, debating how honest I wanted to be. “It’s a lot. Seeing that footage, knowing what Vince did.. it just makes me feel like...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what I feel. Anger? Guilt? Fear? All of it, I guess.”

Willow nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, it’s a lot to process. You’re not the only one who’s scared, though. We all are.”

I tilted my head, studying her. “How’d you and Nate not lose your minds waiting for the cops to clear last night? Four hours is a hell of a long time to sit in a car.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh, we found ways to pass the time.”

I blinked, the suggestive tone in her voice catching me off guard. “Wait a second.. Are you saying-”

Willow cut me off with a laugh. “I’m not saying anything. But, hypothetically, if I were, it’s none of your business, Chris.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “You like him, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Nate’s.. different. He’s got this rough exterior, but underneath all that, he’s a good guy. And, well, spending hours in close quarters tends to make you notice things.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Who would’ve thought? You and Nate.”

Willow shrugged, setting her mug down. “Enough about me. What about you? You’ve been glued to Y/n ever since this whole mess started. It’s pretty obvious you’re head over heels for her.”

“Yeah, I love her. I’m not gonna deny that.”

Willow’s gaze softened. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

I nodded, exhaling slowly. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I know that sounds crazy, especially with everything going on, but it’s the truth. She’s the one, Willow. And I want to make that clear, not just now, but when this is all over.”

Willow smiled, her expression unexpectedly kind. “You’re a good guy, Chris. And she knows it. She wouldn’t be here, sticking by you through all this, if she didn’t feel the same way.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, filling me with a mix of hope and determination. “Thanks” I said, my voice quieter.

“Don’t thank me yet” Willow teased, standing up. “Just don’t screw it up, alright?”

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m bored without social media.. Want to make burner Instagram accounts?” Willow suggests.

Y/n’s POV

By the time I arrived on campus, my stomach was in knots. This wasn’t just about legal theory or hypotheticals. This was real, messy and dangerous. I smoothed my blazer, took a deep breath, and knocked twice.

“Come in” his deep voice called.

I stepped inside, my hands gripping the strap of my bag. Professor Hawkins was at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed a thick stack of papers. He looked up, and his sharp, analytical gaze met mine.

“Miss Y/l/n” he said, gesturing for me to sit. “It’s nice to see you! I was beginning to think you’d dropped out of my class.”

“I know, I’m sorry..” I admitted, lowering myself into the chair. “I’ve had some personal matters to deal with, but I’m here because I need your guidance.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“There’s a situation I’ve gotten involved in, a dangerous one” I began carefully. “It’s about a criminal operation in Boston. I have evidence, but I’m scared to go to the police because it could put me and the people I care about in danger.”

At that, his expression sharpened, and he leaned forward. “Go on.”

“It’s about Vince Moretti..” I said, watching for a reaction. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew I had his attention.

“Moretti” he echoed, his tone measured. “I’ve been looking for a way to dismantle his operation for years. The drug feud in Boston is destroying lives, but no one talks. Everyone is either too scared or too loyal to open up. If you have evidence, Miss Y/l/n, you might have what we need to take him down.”

Hearing that sent a chill through me. “I have video footage of Moretti committing murder..” I said quietly. “But I need to do this in a way that keeps me out of it. The people I care about, they’re already too close to all of this.”

Hawkins studied me for a moment before nodding. “There was a raid at the docks last night, but my contacts in law enforcement have been quiet, which means they don’t know exactly who it's linked to or they’re keeping what they did find under wraps. If you have something concrete, it needs to stay quiet. The last thing you want is for Moretti to catch wind of it before law enforcement can act.”

“I understand” I said. “This evidence could be the turning point, but I can’t afford for it to lead back to me. Can you help?”

I paused, suddenly realizing how much trust I was putting in Hawkins by sharing this information. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much on the line. My hand instinctively went to my bag, and I pulled out the small, nondescript USB drive.

“I.. I have the footage with me” I said, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “It’s all on here. What happened with Vince and Danny.. the moment Vince killed him.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem surprised, though his gaze flicked briefly to the USB in my hand. He held out his hand, and I hesitated for a moment before passing it to him.

He examined the drive, turning it over in his fingers as if weighing the decision on what to do next. “You’re sure this footage is unaltered? No editing or manipulation?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s untouched. I’ve kept it safe.”

Hawkins didn’t say anything for a moment. He seemed to be processing, considering what he was about to dive into. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I’ll take a look at it. But you understand this is a delicate situation. If this footage confirms what you say, then we’re dealing with a murder, and Moretti won’t let it slide easily. His influence is far reaching, and the moment this gets out.. it won’t just be you at risk.”

“I know” I said quietly. “But I can’t just sit back anymore. This needs to be dealt with, and I need to know I did everything I could to stop him. For my own peace of mind, and for the people I care about.”

He nodded, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I get it. I’ll keep this in safe hands. But you need to prepare yourself. There’s no going back once this is in motion.”

“I’m ready” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I truly was.

Hawkins gave me a sharp nod before getting up and walking to his desk, plugging the USB into his computer. As the screen came alive with the footage, I stood frozen, feeling the weight of what was to come. My heart beat louder in my chest, knowing that once the truth was revealed, there would be no turning back.

After a few moments, Hawkins turned to face me. “This is solid. You’ve done well to get this footage. But now the hard part begins.”

“I know” I whispered, my stomach twisting.

Hawkins leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. After a long silence, he looked at me, his expression serious.

“You know, Y/n..” he said, voice low but steady, “There’s a way we can handle this without you directly being involved. If we go about it anonymously, if we can release this evidence to the right people without your name attached, then the state can take it from there. We get the authorities involved, and it’s their job to pursue it, not yours.”

I blinked, my mind spinning at the possibility. "You mean.. you think we could turn this over without anyone finding out it was me who gave them the footage?"

“Exactly” Hawkins confirmed, leaning forward, his gaze unwavering. “If we can make sure no one knows where this evidence came from, if we keep your identity out of it entirely, then the state can arrest Vince without putting you or your loved ones at risk. You won’t be the one in the line of fire.”

I let out a breath, feeling a sliver of relief. The weight of what he was offering began to sink in. I’d been terrified, every day, that my involvement would make me a target, or worse, put Chris, Nate, and Willow in harm's way too. The thought of remaining anonymous, of not having to watch my every step, was a relief. But at the same time, it felt like I was still hiding from the truth.

“So, how would we even get this to the right people without anyone knowing?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the logistics of it all.

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my willingness to question the plan. “There’s a network. I have a few connections in law enforcement who are more than willing to work discreetly. We can get the footage into the hands of the right people who’ll work behind the scenes to make sure Vince is arrested, while keeping everything under wraps. But you need to understand, once this is out there, it can’t be retracted. If it leaks or anyone catches wind of who helped, it could undo everything.”

I nodded slowly, processing the risk. It seemed like the perfect solution. It would protect me, Chris, and everyone else involved, while still putting Vince away.

“I understand” I said, feeling the weight of his words. “But how do we make sure it goes through? How do we ensure that it doesn’t get buried or lost in the system?”

Hawkins smiled faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. “That’s where I come in. I’ll make sure it gets to the right people, the ones who are beyond Vince’s reach. But you need to trust me on this. If you want to keep this as clean and anonymous as possible, you can’t be involved directly from here on out. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to require patience, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. If I did this, if I let Hawkins handle it from here,I would be taking the risk of putting everything in his hands. But at the same time, it was the only way I could be sure that the right thing was done, without endangering myself or the people I loved.

“You have my trust” I said quietly. “I’ll let you handle it. I just want Vince gone. I want him out of our lives.”

Hawkins nodded, his expression firm. “I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. I’ll get the ball rolling right away. But remember, you can’t talk about this to anyone. Not even your closest friends. The less you say, the safer you’ll be.”

“I get it” I whispered, my heart racing. “Thank you, Professor Hawkins. I don’t know what else to say. Just.. please make sure this works.”

“I will” he said, voice steady and confident. “Now go. I’ll handle the rest from here.”

I left his office with a heavy heart but a renewed sense of hope. This was the right move, the only way to stop Vince without risking everything. I finally felt like I could breathe, if only for a moment. The end was in sight.

–

By 5pm, I was standing at the window, waiting for Nate to arrive. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway snapped me out of my thoughts, knowing we were about to head back into the chaos once again.

I grabbed my things and stepped outside, walking toward the car quickly before getting in.

"Did you get to talk to your professor?" Nate asked, his expression a little more serious than usual, probably from everything that had gone down recently.

"Yeah" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I got a call from him again about thirty minutes ago. The police have the footage now, but.. Vince is nowhere to be found since the raid last night. They can trace everything back to him, but without him in custody, it's like a waiting game."

Nate's expression shifted, brows furrowing. "That’s.. not good. So, they’ve got everything, but no Vince?"

"Exactly" I replied. 

Nate’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his jaw set as he drove. "This isn’t good" he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as if expecting someone to be following. "The whole point of getting this footage was to put the pressure on Vince, but if he’s nowhere to be found.." He trailed off, frustration clear in his voice.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was never one to be idle when something was wrong, and the thought of Vince slipping through their fingers was eating away at him.

"Maybe he’s hiding" I suggested, though it didn’t feel like much of an answer. "He’s got resources, people who could help him disappear, but they're probably piecing things together, hoping someone will slip up, reveal his whereabouts, but right now.. it’s just a matter of time. Professor Hawkins said once there’s an arrest, it’ll be all over the news" I added, my voice laced with uncertainty. 

"Yeah, I know" Nate growled. "But it’s not just that. He’s smart enough to keep a low profile. If the cops can’t find him now, it means he’s pulling strings, keeping his head down, and the longer he does that, the longer it’ll be before he’s found. It’s like we’re chasing a shadow."

Nate stayed silent for a while, focusing on the road. "I just don’t know how much longer we can wait for that. We need him caught now. If we wait too long, everything’s going to fall apart." His words were sharp, frustration lacing each word.

"Well.." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "the cops are looking. They’re not going to stop just because Vince’s gone to ground. We need to trust that they’ll catch up with him. We’ve done everything we can. And we need to make sure we just lay low now."

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Airbnb, stepped out of the car, still processing everything that had happened with Professor Hawkins, and headed toward the front door, Nate trailing closely behind me.

As we walked inside, the soft murmur of voices filled the air. Willow was in the kitchen, scrolling on her burner and Chris was lounging on the couch, his expression neutral but tired. When he saw us, he sat up straighter, his eyes immediately locking on mine.

"How did things go?" he asked, his voice low, his gaze flickering between me and Nate.

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. "We’ve got good news and bad news" I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "The footage is in the right hands, and Vince can be linked to everything, but.. he’s gone."

"Yeah" Nate added, rubbing the back of his neck. "The police can’t find him, and he’s laying low since the raid. No one knows where he is. They can’t even get close to him right now."

Willow frowned, putting down the papers she was holding. "That’s not great" she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "But at least we’re making progress, right?"

"Not enough" Nate replied, his frustration clear. "We don’t have time to wait around for Vince to come out of hiding" Nate muttered. "We need to do more. We need him behind bars sooner, not later."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "The police have the footage. There’s nothing more we can do right now. We just have to be patient."

He let out an exasperated breath, pacing around the living room. "Patient? Patience isn’t going to get him behind bars! He’s slipping through the cracks, and we're just standing here, waiting for him to screw us over again."

"I know you're angry" I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "but there’s nothing we can do to force their hand right now. If we make any noise, it'll mess everything up. The best thing we can do is stay silent and let the police handle it."

Nate stopped pacing and glared at me. "Stay silent? We’ve been silent this whole time, Y/n!"

I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I understood. We’d all been waiting for something, anything to happen. But rushing things now would only make it worse.

"We're not doing nothing" I said, my tone softer but firm. "We’ve done everything we can. We got the footage, we tipped the cops off, and now it’s in their hands. Vince is running out of options. He’ll slip up. He has to."

Nate crossed his arms over his chest, still scowling “I’m going to bed.” Shaking his head as he made his way down the hallway toward one of the bedrooms. I could tell he was still seething with anger, unable to let go of the frustration that had built up. I didn’t blame him, but for now, we all needed a break.

Willow and I plopped down on the couch next to Chris, flipping through TV channels to put a news channel on, in case any news broke. The silence between us was tense, each of us processing everything in our own way. Every update on the news made my stomach twist tighter. No word on Vince yet. But we kept watching, hoping for some shift that would give us more clarity.

Willow shifted beside me. "You know" she said, breaking the silence, "Chris and I set up burner Instagram accounts today while you were talking to Hawkins."

I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You did?"

She nodded, her lips quirking into a smile. "Yeah. I thought it might be useful, you know, staying low key while we keep track of things. Still having some sense of normality."

"Good thinking" I said, reaching for my phone. "Guess I’ll set one up too then."

We sat there, the murmurs of the TV in the background, as Chris and Willow helped me create a burner account. It didn’t take long, and soon enough, I was scrolling through random pages, looking at reels.

Time seemed to stretch on as we sat there, clicking through posts, our minds occupied with the task but constantly flicking back to the news, half expecting to see something break. The quiet ticking of the clock felt like it was counting down to something, but we had no idea what.

After about an hour, the silence in the room was finally broken by Chris. He leaned forward, his eyes glued to his phone screen, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Theres no fucking way" Chris muttered under his breath. His voice was a mix of disbelief and anger.

Willow and I exchanged a glance, both leaning in, asking in unison, "What’s wrong?"

Chris's fingers moved rapidly across the screen as he scrolled through, shaking his head in frustration. "I was being nosey" he said, his voice tight. "I was checking out one of the H Block guys’ pages. They-"

His words were cut off as he turned the screen toward us, and my heart dropped into my stomach. There it was. The footage.

The grainy, shaky camera work was unmistakable, the same one we'd watched hours ago on that USB, only now it was out there in the world. The caption above it was a slap to the face: "Crimson scum, killing your own 🐀"

My breath hitched in my chest, and I felt Willow’s eyes on me as my stomach twisted. I felt sick, my hands trembling as I reached for the phone to get a closer look. But even before I could process it all, my mind was racing. This could change everything.

"Shit" Willow breathed, leaning back into the couch. "This is bad. This is really bad."

Chris exhaled sharply, his eyes dark with anger and disbelief. "Yeah. And it's all over Instagram now.”

"How did they get this?" I whispered, the question more to myself than anyone else.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick with the weight of the unspoken truth. Chris jumped up from the couch, his legs moving before his mind fully caught up with the frustration building inside him. "No" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to convince himself that this wasn’t real. "There’s no fucking way..."

But as soon as he moved toward the hall, the door to one of the bedrooms creaked open, and there stood Nate, leaning against the doorframe. He was holding his phone, his expression unreadable as he watched Chris’s every move. The moment their eyes locked, I felt the air get even heavier. Something was about to snap.

Chris’s voice was low, simmering with anger. "You fucking leaked it, didn’t you?" he demanded, his gaze hard as steel.

Nate didn't flinch. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Chris with a mixture of defiance and coldness.

“I did what I had to do" Nate said through clenched teeth, his voice low and almost challenging. "You think I’m just gonna sit here while Vince gets away with everything? While Danny’s gone? I had to do something."

Chris shook his head, pacing in frustration. "You think that’s the way to fix things? You put everything at risk. Everything we've been working toward. Y/n told you to stay quiet, and you fucking ignored her." He stopped, turning to face Nate with a look of disbelief. "You could have trusted us, man. We could’ve handled this the right way."

Nate’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "The right way? There is no ‘right way’ when it comes to this shit, Chris. I didn’t make this mess, but I’ll be damned if I sit around waiting for Vince to tear apart everything we’ve been working for. Crimson’s not just gonna sit on their hands, pretending like everything’s fine. They needed to know-"

"That’s not how you do it!" Chris interrupted, his voice rising. "You don’t just act on impulse, you don’t just go and leak shit to a rival gang, especially not with the people we care about in danger. What if someone tracks it back to us? What if this blows up in our faces?"

"Then so be it" Nate shot back, his voice colder now. "I don’t care anymore. I just want Vince to pay for what he did. I want him gone." He hesitated, his gaze flickering to me and Willow on the couch. "I had to make a move. So I sent it to H Block. They don’t know it was me, but they’re gonna spread it around, and then Crimson won’t have any choice but to turn on Vince. They’ll start talking, and then he’ll be the one running, not us."

Willow shifted beside me, her eyes wide as she watched the back and forth between the two. Chris’s face was flushed with anger, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was trying to stay calm, but the frustration was evident.

"You’re out of your fucking mind, Nate" Chris spat, his voice barely containing the fury he was feeling. "What the hell made you think that was the right call? You really don’t get it, do you? We were trying to handle this quietly, trying to get Vince without anyone else getting hurt. And you go and throw all that out the window. Just like that."

Nate didn’t flinch. "And if I hadn’t done it? Vince would still be out there, laughing at us, thinking he can do whatever he wants. You really think I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen? Watch people we care about get hurt while I did nothing?"

The two of them were standing there, inches apart now, the tension thick enough to choke the air around us. I could see both of them on the verge of snapping, both holding on to their frustrations in the same clenched fists. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, the sound of a breaking news report cut through the silence, pulling all of our attention to the TV in the corner of the room.

"Breaking news from Boston." the anchor's voice rang out. "Authorities have confirmed that a known leader of one of Boston's major drug gangs has been arrested, on the outskirts of Massachusetts. The arrest comes following the discovery of shocking footage implicating him in a recent murder of a close affiliate related to the feud. The footage comes a day after a raid near the docks late last night, which is now being linked back to this gang."

The words hung in the air and for a split second, it felt like the room itself froze. My heart started to race as the news anchor continued. A mixture of panic and relief.

“Wow, maybe that is how you do it” Willow whispers under her breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

Chris’s voice broke prominent silence, shaky but determined. "He’s gone. This is it."

Nate, still standing with his arms crossed, didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glued to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Yeah" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "It’s done. Vince is done."

But despite the relief that seemed to come with hearing about Vince’s arrest, it was clear from Nate’s tone that it didn’t feel like a victory, not yet. 

Chris and Nate made their way back to the couch. We all sat there, glued to the screen, waiting for any further details. 

I knew this wasn’t over yet, but at least it was a start.

a/n: 2 more parts

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe @2prcntmilkluvr @trevorsgodmother @anonymouslyachrisgirl

[gremlinwithacause]

You should have known better. It’s not the first time you’ve been ditched, but it might be the last. Huh. 

You make good money on your work. You’re nothing noble or special. You’re just damn good at your job. Fighting and killing come second hand. You could blame it on your parents. Blame it on working at a slaughterhouse. Blame it on getting picked on and having to fight for yourself. Blame it on needing cash to live. The details don’t matter all that much. You’re a good fighter and a better killer. Someone told you that your need to survive made you different. You don’t think so and you’re tired of hearing it. 

It’s not just the shady folks that hire you. You get plenty of employers of good standing. The adventurers aren’t special. A set in a line of many that want extra hands or extra cannon fodder. You tend to be lucky enough to be the former. You’ve ended up in jail more than once for people like this. Your wealthier employers tend to bail you out. You were valuable enough for the extra investment. Worth more alive, and all that. So you’ve been around a few dozen times. 

Being ditched in the field isn’t new but being half dead is. 

You should have seen it on their faces. You should have known better. They didn’t want you there, but someone thought they needed you. It makes sense they ditched you once the boss went down. 

But damn. They didn’t even watch it happen. Straight for the loot, huh? On some level you respect it, on the other level you’re bleeding out and you can only watch them run away. Not even a one liner? A spit on your body? A single piece of gold thrown on your body and a good “there’s your payment, you filthy animal.” 

Huh. Maybe you deserve it. You never messed with theatrics. Why would you get any? 

Things are fading in and out. Blood loss is always a pain to deal with. It would be easier to let go, you think. You still put pressure on the wound in your stomach and side and breathe through the pain. It’d be insulting if you just let yourself keel over, right? No, you’re just scared. 

“Guess we’re both expendable, huh?” 

You don’t have it in you to startle. The boss that you were damn sure was dead is not that. Alive enough to banter with you. It’s more than you offered anyone. What a sweetheart. 

“Dunno,” you say. “Never really thought of it.”

It makes sense. You’re not a hero. What were the chances of you actually out-living adventurers like the ones that ditched you here? You’re worth more alive, but when is the investment no longer worth it?

“‘S funny,” the boss says. Chatty, you think. What can you do but humor them? “Didn’t think heroes would leave their own behind.” 

“I was hired,” you say. 

“Really?” 

They laugh. Then cough and choke on blood or their own spit. You wait for them to finish their cackling, and then continue to wait for the end. 

“They're always picky with their heroes, huh?” 

Oh boy, the pronoun game. 

“Don’t care,” you say. May whatever higher power there is forgive your temper as you’re dying. “It’s work.” 

“Ah. You’re one of those,” they say. Like they know you. Ugh. You want to finish the job. “I always liked those. Basic motivations are the best. Nothing to second guess.” 

You roll your eyes. You’ve heard it all before. What is it worth now? 

“I tried the whole leader thing,” they say. “Good worshippers are hard to find, you know?”

You don’t. You won’t. 

“Sounds more like a cult.” “Eh. Same thing,” they dismiss. 

“What were you even the god of?” you snap. You can’t help it. This guy wasn’t any more special than you--that is: not.

“Anything I could get my hands on,” they say. “I wasn’t picky. Got enough of something that I became this, though.”

A boss. A few tiers above the usual monsters that you can find, always locked up in some kind of home base. 

“So were you a god or not?”

“No, never got that far. Wouldn’t have lost to you if I did.”

“Sure. Lie to yourself.”

They laugh again, “I like that. Confidence like that is usually up on some pedestal. Good on you.” 

“Yeah. Did me a lot of good.” 

“Did you enough,” they say. “You’re not new at this, must have been going for a while.”

“It’s work,” you repeat. It’s always work. It’s to survive. 

“You want a new job?” they ask. 

You lift your head enough to look over at them. They’re flat on their back. Your spear is still in their chest. It’s what’s keeping them from bleeding out. You know better than to leave the weapon in, but you were distracted by the whole dying thing. 

It’s getting harder to keep the pressure on your wound. Your hands are getting weaker. You’re getting weaker. You’re surprised you’re still awake. And what is this guy talking about? …You’ll indulge it. What else are you going to do? 

“Contract?” you ask. 

“Sure,” they say. 

A silver contract appears in front of you, something you don’t see too often. The consequences on silvers are serious, most people just do physical ones or bronzes. 

You squint to make sense of the blurring letters. 

“Follower? Really? What, are you still trying to form that cult?” you snort. It hurts and you dig your fingers into your skin. You don’t even feel it. 

“Good clerics are hard to find,” they say.

“Hah, and your lucky cleric is about to kick the bucket,” you say. “Sucks to be you.”

“Read it.” 

“Sorry. It gets hard to read with blood in your eyes.” 

“You live. You worship me.” 

You grimace. Sounds like a hassle. But… the idea of continuing to live is like candy. What else is there to do? It’s work.

You sign. 

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[maxx-the-queer]

The Siege at Weisshaupt is honestly one of the best missions of any Dragon Age game, let alone Veilguard.

The stakes are already high: kill an Archdemon and then kill Ghilan'nain.

Killing an Archdemon - the big bad at the end of Origins whose very presence means apocalypse and certain sacrifice - is just the first step to killing an even greater force.

Ghilan'nain - an Ancient Elven Goddess blighted beyond recognition, whose unchecked ambition unleashed great horrors upon the world - is the real threat to face or else the Darkspawn Army will be the least of Thedas' worries.

The leader of the Grey Wardens, the only mortal force who have thus far been able to protect Thedas from utter annihilation, categorically refuses to face reality. Rook only has a ragtag team of half a dozen guys from all over to face an entire Darkspawn army with.

It's exactly as terrifying and daunting as it sounds, and neither task is something anyone treats with any amount of levity. Everyone is confident in their abilities to perform their task and get Lucanis to the right place to finish this contract, but there's no playfulness or divine certainty about their success.

Rook, whose only game plan is "get in and win by any means necessary," is then immediately confronted with the reality of their situation as absolutely everything goes wrong.

The Eluvian isn't where they thought it would be, the Grey Wardens are overwhelmed by Ghilan'nain's forces, and just to add to the sheer horror - there's a young child running through this battlefield of Darkspawn in search of her father and she will not listen to your pleas for her to get to safety.

All of that happens in the first ten minutes of the mission, mind you. This isn't even including the fact that Ghilan'nain appears as a damn spectral cloud face - which Lucanis rightfully points out is who he has to kill and "how am I supposed to kill a damn cloud?!"

Rook runs through the fortress, makes it to the East Battlements and hears the sounding of a horn begging for reinforcements, only to realise that they're the only ones coming and everything is falling apart, but they have no choice but to keep going.

Retreats are called, everywhere Rook goes is the wrong way, the forces are overwhelming beyond measure, and this battle is no longer about killing but surviving, because they're cornered like prey by horrors beyond comprehension.

When all of a sudden, the world's bravest little girl rushes in like a hero and guides them through impossible odds to somewhere with some semblance of safety. She's the only reason they haven't succumbed to death already and despite the waves upon waves of Hurlocks, Spikers, and Ogres - she finds her father.

Thanks to Mila, there's a moment of reprieve. Rook gets a chance to breathe. The Veilguard regroups, replans their approach. Distract Ghilan'nain with the dagger, trap her Archdemon in a dragon trap, and kill it to render her mortal. With time to breathe comes time to doubt, to fear.

A Warden has to die to kill the Archdemon. Davrin knows this, and is ready to go. But is Rook? What if they can't do this? What if this is how they die? Can they even spare the time to think about it?

Regardless, they fight through to the dragon trap. The Archdemon approaches as Rook all but dangles the dagger within reach. She takes the bait and sends her Archdemon forth, it seems all too easy - like putting cheese out for the mice.

The Archdemon is trapped. Davrin says his goodbyes, but the First Warden surges forward insistently. He plans to end this according to tradition. He'll die with dignity, he's not asking for your permission to do what all wardens must. He steps forward. Sword in hand, ready to end the Blight.

Ghilan'nain will not be so easily beat. She will not play by the rules they're used to, and the First Warden does not get to die a hero. She seizes him in her grasp, sucks the life out of him to empower Razikale, and changes the game once more. Her Archdemon is unlike any seen in history, and there's no time to revel in it because it's do or die and Rook cannot afford to die yet.

Every blow brings it closer to death, and therefore Ghilan'nain herself as she becomes more and more desperate. One snakelike head becomes two, becomes three, with blight everywhere - the time is at hand.

Davrin is the only one left who can kill the Archdemon, his death is inevitable, and he's ready to go as he sinks his sword in for the final blow.

Except, if there's one thing this seige should have taught them all, it was this: the rules have changed. Davrin is still standing, and he doesn't have time to think about why, because Ghilan'nain is mortal and the time to strike is now.

Rook tosses the Lyrium Dagger to Lucanis. He surges up, wings of Spite propelling him up to kill a goddess like she's any other target, because it's all that he came here to do.

And then, he misses.

With everything at stake, and everything to lose... Lucanis Dellamorte misses.

They don't have time to try again. If they stay, everyone dies. And so, the Veilguard flees through the Eluvian and back into the Lighthouse. It was a victory, but at what cost?

Nothing is how it's supposed to be. Weisshaupt is fallen. The Wardens are scattered. Razikale is dead, Ghilan'nain is mortal. And yet...

It wasn't enough.

[alien-girl-21]

Since I won't see my friends until next year, I thought it would be a perfect time to do this again

Joker out and käärijä as random shit my friends say!!

(+ sneaky joost in one entry)

Under the cut because it's LONG

Kris: I actually miss Bojan, i'm going to tell him to come back from New York... but don't tell him I said that, it might get to his head that I actually like him

-

Bojan: writes on the board

Jan: is that arabic?

-

-Bojan's first time taking money out of the atm-

Bojan: what do I do now?

The screen of the atm: please select the language of your transaction

Martin: choose Slovenian, idiot

-

-at the airport-

Bojan: I'm going to get a pamphlet real quick

Jan: sure, I'll wait here

Bojan, coming back empty handed: I think I fell in love

-

Kris: in bojan's defense —not to defend him— but in his defense

-

Nace: hey, you wanna share this cookie?

Jan: sure

Nace: it doesn't break though, I already ate my half

Jan: you're an idiot, of course it can break, here, see? I broke it

Bojan: I ship you guys

-

Jan: -breaks a chair-

Jan: fuck, let me fix it -breaks the chair even more-

Jure: try to put the thing in that hole

Jan: -fixes the chair- Bob the builder 😎

-

(In the gc)

Jere: you want go party?

Bojan: I can't

Bojan: i'm sick and don't want to get worse

Kris: if Bojan isn't going, I'm not going

Jure: no fucking way 🤣

Bojan: I had to read that twice

Bojan: I was about to call him a bitch

-

Allu: if someone was killed while we were together, I think that Jesse, Jukka, and Jere would be the most level headed one's

Jesse: I think that Jere would be the one in charge to calm us

Jere: I would be making jokes like "at least we're better than that guy" and pointing at tommi's dead body

-

Jure: might go to this -shows a flyer for a singles only cruise-

Nace: only 99 euros? That's cheap... when is it?

Bojan: aren't you taken?

Nace: Oh fuck, I am

Bojan: apologize now

Nace, taking his phone out: I'm so sorry, babe

-

-during esc-

Bojan: okay, we're next, we can do this

Nace: -starts doing push ups for some fucking reason-

-

Jere: i go on stage now

Bojan: NOOO— i mean, YESSS

Jere: ?

Bojan: i'm just used to you leaving me alone :(

-

Jure and bojan: playfighting

Jure: now it's your turn, jan!

Bojan: jan wouldn't do that to me because he respects me 😌

Jan, getting ready to slap bojan:

-

(In spanish because there is no way to translate this dad joke)

Bojan: antes de que se me olvide, les quería contar un chiste: donde nacen las computadoras?

Jure: no sé

Bojan: en el mar

Nace: por qué?

Jan: porque navegan

Bojan: porque son peces

Kris: miren a los tremendos payasos que nos cargamos en esta banda

Bojan: 🥰

-

Host: for this, we're going to need groups of 6

Joker out: does a group hug

Bojan, tapping jere's arm: jere, jere

Jere: what?

Bojan: join us

Jere: really? Me? 🥰

Bojan: yes, you, you're part of the group 🥰

Kris: can you two stop?

-

Kris: do you have a pen?

Bojan, handing him a rainbow pen: yeah

Kris: gay pen

Bojan: at least it works

Kris: faggot

Bojan: I am! You have a problem with that?

Kris: I was talking to the pen! Not you!

-

Interviewer: Who would survive the longest in a deserted island?

Everyone: Jure

Bojan: I could survive, I think

Kris: I think that a coconut would fall on your head and you would die

-

Jesse: if a girl asked to peg you, what would you say?

Häärijä: no

Jere: skill issue

-

While watching a football game, in the gc:

Jan: well, i'm going to wait for the game to start while eating my cereal

Bojan: now I want some

Jan: the small box costs 2 euros in the supermarket

Bojan: you know what? I'm going to the supermarket now, i'm going to spend money because of you

Jan, sending a pic of the cereal box: here it is for reference 👍🏻

-

Bojan, after turning the washing machine on and somehow there was a power outage in the whole floor at the same time: ☹

Martin: hey, don't worry, it wasn't your fault, bojč

The electrician, a couple of days later: yeah, so, the outage was caused because someone used too much electricity in this apartment while someone was showering in the unit next to this one

Martin: so it was your fucking fault

-

Jan: I photoshopped us into some world cup images

Nace: it looks like Messi is kissing you, Bojan

Bojan: yeah

Jure: that's your dream right? Messi kissing you?

Bojan: yeah 🥰

-

Someone: yeah, so I spoke with the director, and he asked me if I spoke dutch and I said yeah

Jure: can you speak duch to us?

Someone, in dutch: I can, but what can I say? I just learned it to learn it, not because I liked it

Jan: okay, okay, Kris, it's your turn, reply in Dutch!

Jure: like we practiced

Bojan: literally jumping up and down like an excited puppy

-

Kris: this is bullshit, stupid fucking coordinators, they have shit in the fucking head instead of a stupid brain!

Jan: said the princess

-

-while playing volleyball-

Jure: just imagine the ball is your ex!

Bojan, cradling the ball in his arms: i'm so sorry, it was all my fault, I miss you everyday

Jan: great job, idiot

-

Nace: you look really good today, Bojan

Kris: yeah, your outfit is really well color coordinated

Bojan: thank you, krisko

Nace: and what about me?

Bojan: it's because Kris only bullies me, so a compliment from him matters more

-

Jure: idk if I'll be able to go out this Saturday, my parents are starting to make milk, and because of that I need to close their shop that night

Kris: making milk?

Jure: soy milk, yeah

Kris: Oh, I was about to ask since when did your parents have cows

Nace: moo

Jan: moo

^ they proceed to moo at each other for the next five minutes while the conversation carries on

-

Jere, just minding his business:

Häärijä, handing him a paper crown: you are now the queen of this realm

Jere: ❓

Häärijä: you will be the queen until we vote on who will be coronated next

Jere: thanks?

Häärijä: my pleasure, your majesty

-

Kris: I actually didn't call any of my exes while I was drunk last night, that's a great achievement!

-

Jere: hey guys, sorry if you hear me swearing, i'm playing a videogame..... FUCKING BULLSHIT

-

Jesse, after jere got the piña colada tattoo: hey can I see your prision tattoo?

-

Nace: remember to participate in the meeting

Bojan: i'm watching football

Nace: they're asking you a question bojč

Bojan: GOAAALLL!!!!!

-

Bojere, sitting chest to back in a bench:

Jan:

Bojan: Oh Jan, sorry that we're facing away from you

Jere: you want to hug me too? Join train?

Jan: yeah sure, let me just—

Jere: no! Don't touch me!

-

Kris: I would like to go back in time to meet Jesus and smoke weed with him

-

Käärijä: so, I'm walking to get to work, and I see a line of police cars and I'm thinking "I fucking hope that they don't want to do spontaneous searching because my bag is 90% weed, 10% my actual stuff"

-

Someone: yeah, this is my daughter, she's 4 and learning how to play drums

Bojan: that's your daughter? Oh my gosh 🥺

Kris: Bojan, you have a severe case of baby fever

-

Jere: where are the bathrooms?

Jukka, craning jere's head up to see the giant "TOILET" sign above them: over here

-

Kris: would you be with a guy?

Bojan: I'm bisexual, of course

Kris: what? 😱

Bojan: I already told you, you know this!

Kris: WHAT??

-

Joost, in the middle of having sex: babe wait, codnom broked :(

-

Kris: do you guys think the bouncer will let me in? I'm kind of tipsy

Jan: just go in confidently, he won't suspect a thing

Bojan: the last time he went in confidently he was banned from the club

-

Jan: so, how'd you sleep last night?

Kris: good

Jan: you don't seem so convinced

Kris: I slept in late

Jan: how late?

Kris: midnight

Jan: Oh, how blasphemous, how late

-

Kris, anytime they go to a new city: look at this door! I'm too tall to fit in it... look at this other door! I'm also too tall to fit in it... look at this door!

-

Bojan, about stephanie: she's the world cup and i'm bolivia.... but hopefully I'll be bolivia in '94 and she will still be the world cup

-

Jan: I'm not like Jesus, at all

Bojan: well, you kind of are in some ways

Kris: yeah, you only hang out with fags and prostitutes

Bojan, pointing at them: here you have three fags

Bojan, pointing at jure: and there's a prostitute

-

Jesse: why are you leaving everything for last minute?

Jere: because I fucking want to and I fucking can 😝

Häärijä, holding up the printed meme: 🐴🤝🏻🐴 no pelien

-

During a post-barcelona pre-party meeting:

Kris: I think that's all for today

Bojan: typing very loudly

Jan: who are you talking to?

Bojan: with someone 🥰 you know him already

Nace: ohhh the lovebirds 😏

Bojan: raising his hand up repeatedly

Kris: yes, Bojan?

Bojan: I'm really happy 🥰🥰 -instantly goes back to typing-

Kris: I'm happy for you, man

-

Jere after inflating five balloons for a party: well, my job here is done, time for my very well deserved rest

Jesse: get back up, you fuck, we need to move these chairs

-

Häärijä: bartender! Bartender! Bartender!!

Jere: I'm here, what do you want?

Häärijä: hi :) -leaves-

-

Bojan: sometimes I feel like I am batman and žare is the riddler

-

Jukka: you guys would be the worst clowns at a kid's birthday party. They would ask you for swords, and you would give them snakes

-

Kris, after seeing Jure having a sugar crash: someone give him a fucking celery or something, he's fucking melting on the couch!

-

Jere: you live life like it's last day, say sorry to people, hug people, even punch if you have to punch!

All of joker out: raising their fists to punch bojan

-

Jere: we only had a 5 euro budget for this secret santa so I bought one chocolate bar

Allu: it's not even wrapped!

Jere: wrapping paper is expensive!

-

During the secret santa:

Allu: I'm so fucking scared of seeing who jere got

Jere: so I had to buy something for...... Jesse!

Jesse: FUCK!

[crimsonphantasmagoria]

I'm still thinking about the divide between people who think Solas was depicted as too sympathetic and people who think he was shown very unsympathetically because...both are weirdly right? Leaving aside any actual discussion of whether he's right to want the veil brought down.

In Trespasser he seems to imply that the whole world will die when the veil comes down, like what was shown in one of the potential ideas in the Veilguard artbook. That was my assumption going into Veilguard. Hence why my Solas romancing Inquisitor didn't ask to go with him! But in Veilguard, it's implied to just be some demons? Just a few thousand deaths? He fully expects at least Charter and the Inquisitor to survive. That's a wild deescalation! It actually converted me to the idea that the Veil probably should come down. It makes him way more sympathetic from minute one. Weird choice, if you wanted to make him more unsympathetic?

Then there's companions and NPCs who talk about Solas. The companions are incredibly unsympathetic to him during his memory reveals. There's basically no nuance. They even blame him for things he didn't cause, like the Elf-Titan wars. I would have expected, if we wanted to be nuanced, for there to be at least one companion who was sympathetic to his choices in each memory. But there isn't. Even the one where he puts up the veil. You know, the thing they're guarding? But also, Varric is out here actively encouraging Rook to help Solas in the regret prison. But also the Inquisitor is treated as delulu for asking if there's a way to save him. It's kinda weird.

And of course, the decision to have him kill Varric specifically to make him less sympathetic, and not to further either character's story or growth. Also, we don't find out about it for most of the game, for cheap shock value. It would have been more effective to know from the start. It also would have allowed me to make an informed decision about whether my Inquisitor should go into the Fade with him at the end in the romance, because I don't think I personally would have changed my mind if I'd known, but somebody might have.

There's also the thing about the psychology of having a secret ending, which makes people want to get that ending, but I don't think the devs will have thought of that, exactly.

Idk, maybe it was actually the perfect amount balanced. Or maybe the scales were so wildly tipped from Inquisition that there was no balancing them. At which point, it probably would have been better to try and work with that, rather than against it. But, hey, what do I know.

Frankly, if they truly wanted to make Solas unsympathetic, they should have stuck with the whole world being destroyed by the veil coming down, explained the full consequences to us directly, and given us some reasons to believe why this was definitely what would happen. I might still have sympathised with the man, but others wouldn't have once they knew that he knew that.