#not sure how they get letters in the lighthouse

[ramblinganthropologist]

The saddest thing to come out of Veilguard so far is apparently Trevy and Scout Harding broke up after inquisition.

Poor Trevy. Maybe she'll find someone nice to settle down with and teach mage kids at her magic school.

[miladydewintcr]

happy friday!! hope you're enjoying veilguard so far! how about “This is how the world works, you have to leave before you get left.” for rook & a companion of your choice!!

Thank you!! I'm having a lot of fun with it so far <3

So... Solas counts as a companion, right?

For @dadrunkwriting (Veilguard content! Major spoiler warning for something that happens in Act I!!! Read at your own risk!!)

word count: 802 rating: T tw: a lot of swearing (all Rook), mentions of death, violence

“Can you leave me alone?” Rook asked. “I’m really not in the mood for you tonight.”

Across the chasm that always seemed to separate them in her dreams, Solas shifted slightly. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to have a very nice dream where the world isn’t falling apart and everybody isn’t looking to me to fix it and my friend doesn’t hate me.” She detested the fact that she was tearing up. She was always her best self during their conversations together, unafraid to push Solas’ buttons, uncaring what he thought of her. She was confident here. She couldn’t bare the thought that the god of lies might see her as anything else. The very worst thing for any god to see her as would be weak.

Solas pursed his lips. “I take it it didn’t go well, then. How bad is it? Did Ghilan’nain-”

“I don’t give a rat’s arse about Ghilan’nain right now, Solas,” she snapped. “They sent a fucking blight dragon. Two, actually. I had to make a choice.”

“Ah.” He had the decency to sound a little concerned, at least. She thought. Maybe. Maybe she was just imagining it. Desperate for somebody to tell her she was alright. That she hadn’t done something terribly, terribly wrong.

“They sent one to Minrathous,” Rook explained tiredly, “and one to Treviso. I didn’t have time to stop them both. I had seconds to decide. I thought… I thought there are Venatori in the Templars, and Venatori in the Magisterium. Who’s going to stop the dragon? And if they manage to get their hands on it… There would be so many Trevisos, wouldn’t there? They’d want to conquer the world with it?”

“Impossible to say,” Solas said, diplomatically. “We know that Ghilan’nain and Elgar'nan intend to. If providing the Venatori with a dragon sped up their own plans…” He shrugged slightly.

“How can you be so fucking casual about this?” Rook spat. “Treviso is gone. Because of me. They all blame me for it. Several people there have told me as much. And Lucanis… Lucanis can’t even bare to look at me right now. He won’t come back to the Lighthouse. He sent me a letter.”

“No leader has ever been able to escape the burden of making decisions that aren’t universally accepted,” Solas said.

Rook wished so very much that she could punch him. She looked around for a decent-sized rock, and settled for throwing it across the chasm at him.

Solas elegantly side-stepped the projectile. “You can take your frustration out on me. If that’s what it takes to ensure you awaken undistracted from our goal.”

Rook found another rock. This one bounced harmlessly off of his breastplate. “I never asked to be a leader! I never wanted it!”

“If you hadn’t interrupted my ritual, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“You’re a stupid fucking arsehole, I hate you!!” she screamed. It felt good to scream.

Solas raised an eyebrow, but otherwise remained still. Annoyingly, frustratingly still, and calm, and collected.

“Please yell at me,” Rook all but begged. “Please either yell at me, or tell me it’ll be alright. You’re the god of lies. Tell me it’ll be alright.” There were tears streaming down her face now. She’d given up trying to force them back. “Tell me Treviso will survive this. Tell me Lucanis will forgive me.”

Solas was silent for a painfully long time. Rook stared across the chasm at him, pleading with her eyes. She must’ve look pitiful. When she awoke in the morning, she was sure she’d be embarrassed- but for now, she was just so desperate for anything.

“This is how the world works, Rook,” Solas said eventually. “Leaders are often lonely. Hard decisions don’t leave much room for friendships to form. If you’re still alive when all this is over, then I suggest you pull away from your remaining companions before they have the chance to pull away from you. Like this Lucanis already has done.”

Rook chuckled dryly. “Is that what you did? With the Inquisition?”

“You’ll understand someday.” He nodded towards a decent-sized rock a little way away from her feet. “Go on. See if you can catch me in the face this time.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but stooped to pick the rock up regardless. “You’re just going to dodge again, aren’t you?”

“Naturally.” He wasn’t smiling at her, not quite, but Rook could’ve sworn she saw something like a smirk flicker across his face. It was hard to tell for sure given the distance. “Surely you weren’t expecting me to make this easy for you?”

This time, Rook took several big steps back, gave herself a run-up before launching the rock across the chasm with everything she had.

[mollfie]

I took notes while playing and I've tried to edit them into something that makes a shred of sense.

Things I like in Veilguard:

Banter can be interrupted, and they'll continue talking. If you repeatedly interrupt, they'll start over from the beginning later on.

The banter also actually made me laugh, especially with certain companion combos. Not always but more often than not.

The companions aren't stuck in their room. You know when someone wants to talk to you or has a cutscene, but you'll also see them hanging out with other companions or just checking out places around the Lighthouse. Makes them feel like actual people with their own stuff going on outside of Rook. But I do wish you could talk to them more. I like bothering my companions. I'm fine with them repeating themselves. Just let me smooch my love interest or chat with my friends and get random flavour text. Is that so much to ask?

I like the orb and smashing enemies in the face with it. I actually prefer it most of the time to using the staff.

Can wear casual clothes instead of armour with no repercussions. Finally, some cute outfits. But not cute enough. Need more. I also miss dying outfits in different colours and dressing up my team.

It's not my fav but it's fine:

I miss being able to smooch my love interest whenever I wanted to. Let me bother everyone more. The romances are fine but I expected more in comparison to previous games.

Everyone hangs out with each other or all together (eat together, bookclub etc) but is Rook even involved? The camping trip scene was so weird. Ferelden is overrun. Where are you going? Why would these two even want to? I could maybe believe Taash being interested because they're adventurous and might be hoping to see a dragon, but even then it's so weird.

Semi related to Taash's personal storyline, I did not appreciate having words put in my Rook's mouth re: her feelings about her gender and I have seen others saying that when they play as an enby Rook it's very "third gender" rather than having any sort of nuance. This is why I'm always hesitant when companies are so proud of being inclusive, it's often so clumsy.

References:

Mage/Templar war was in the South but no one mentions really mentions much about the South. Varric?? Morrigan?? Inquisitor?? There are some letters and a few lines about what's happening but not much. Who got to be Divine, again more of a Southern issue but you think it would come up when talking to Harding or Varric. Drinking from the Well of Sorrrows. Morrigan's son. King Alistair or Grey Warden. Hawke in the Fade. Varric, my man, are we not friends? Harding, you were there even if you were just a scout! Surely you got the hot goss hanging around outside the tavern at all hours.

Surely even people in Tevinter would be talking about how the Inquisitor's old spymaster became the Divine?? Harding sort of mentions it but no one else. The Inquisitor coming along to be like "oh it's a shitshow in the South right now that's why I'm not helping you or trying to find Solas" is so stupid.

The references you do get are fine but some feel strange because they're specific enough for a fan to get them but vague enough to feel pointless because they abandoned the Keep and tracking everyone's choices. I know it's complicated because we've all played the games in a variety of ways but they started it!

I wish we had seen more of the countries. I liked the places we saw and I really enjoyed exploring them, I would have liked to see more though which is a good thing in a way? I wasn't bored by the places we got, more than they were intriguing and I wished to go further. I would have liked to see more of Minrathos outside of Dock Town, for example.

Cameos:

Re: cameos. Dorian's model looks like he got bad cosmetic surgery and veneers. What did they do to you?? However, I also hate how Alistairs looks in Inquisition so maybe I just don't like when they try to update old characters? Morrigan looks fine, but her outfit is ugly. Isabela is fine. Varric and Harding look good.

Are we unable to have cameos of characters (or references), such as Merrill, because the team are blood magic flip-floppers? She knew so much about Eluvians, blood magic, Dalish nonsense etc. She would have been a fantastic edition to the team in Inquistion and in Veilguard but apparently I can't have anything nice.

Romances:

The romances are good but once I picked my person it was weird seeing how Lucanis switched to Neve almost instantly AND how their chemistry was so much better just through banter and listening to their chats. Almost like that's what the writers intended originally and then made Rook an option later? Davrin has a sweet romance and I have heard good things about Emmerich.

Companions:

Still think I should be able to have three people tag along. Yes, it makes them just talk to each other for banter but I liked having three people.

I wish they would bicker more. Some characters are supposed to not like each other (at least for a while) but they really could have leaned into that more. Be meaner. However, saying that some fans couldn't handle Vivienne...

My main issue with all the companions is that they're really good but don't get the chance to be great. I'm assuming because of development issues. Any decent writer would want to make the most of a character. You can see what they wanted to do and what they managed is good. I feel like the writers pulled their punches too much. They could have really leaned into some ideas and expanded on some aspects so much more but didn't. They all needed an extra ten minutes to fully bake.

Taash's personal stuff is fine. It's a little awkward in places but it's nowhere near as awful as people are making it out to be. It's no worse than anyone else's personal storyline or dialogue. A lot of the criticism is over-dramatic HOWEVER I do feel like their struggles were more with their upbringing as the daughter of a strict mother (who says herself that she was never supposed to have that sort of role within the Qun) in Rivain and those two identities cause conflict, and that was really overshadowed. A lot of Taash's struggles with gender make sense when you consider how gender roles function under the Qun (how their mother would have raised them) versus how they are in Rivaini society (what she was exposed to outside of the home). That's not to say they aren't nonbinary otherwise, just that the conflict could have been woven together better.

I also didn't really like the binary choices you were presented with - why do I, a stranger, get to tell any of these people what to do with their lives? I think Rook can have an opinion but there should be a third option for the character to make their own choice, perhaps based on their approval level with you or something to at least feign free will. This felt particularly insensitive when talking to Taash.

I also think some people are forgetting or deliberately ignoring that Taash is not the only lgbt or nonbinary character in the game or the series as a whole.

But, I do also think there are awkward moments (for all the characters too) where I understand what the team was going for but it doesn't quite land right. I would have actually liked a little more focus on what it's like being a qunari in Rivain etc.

Lucanis is supposed to be a big scary mage-killing demon-possessed assassin but once you recruit him he's practically shuffling about in his fuzzy slippers making coffee at 4am. I really like him but I can't help but wish they hadn't sanded down the edges. Having the Crows fight for the little guys is certainly a choice. I would have preferred them go down more of a "these Crows in this particular family think this way" so as not to undermine everything about Zevran.

Other thoughts:

It feels like the backgrounds don't really matter, they're not referenced much anyway. I was a veil jumper so you'd think Bellara would want to chat to me about that sort of thing more but no, not really. Same with race choices. It does come up but not as much as I had hoped. I also miss the tension between races, backgrounds etc. Why am I, a Dalish elf, wandering around Minrathos unchallenged?

Where's Meredith??? We had that final shot in the animated series but that's it???

What happened to Solas' agents and the uprising? I know years have passed but you'd think there's been more turmoil considering 1. the gods are real and 2. they suck

TL;DR

I had a great time playing, and it was really fun. I actually really enjoyed the finale and the game overall. But, I am concerned that this was essentially a soft reboot and so now what? What about everything we did before? What about all those other characters we cared about?

I also think I got lucky by choosing to have my Solavellan Inquisitor and romancing Davrin, just judging my chatter online.

I think if they didn't want those choices to matter then they should have had this game hav a protagonist who has no connection to Southern Thedas at all. No Varric or Harding. Have them being a literal nobody who doesn't know anything about what's going on outside of what they've directly experienced or it's very vague. They were affected by Solas' actions. They're an elf who was an agent until they realised what he was doing. Something. I just... if you don't want to make a game where choices matter then you shouldn't be working on Dragon Age. You should make something new. This was always Bioware's whole selling point and they've just tossed all that work to one side. Who made that decision?

Imagine if we'd been forced into being a specific character, similar to Hawke in DA2, and had to actually decide whether or not to support Solas as we learned about what he was actually intending to do? Imagine.

Origins still has the strongest writing. DA2 is still my favourite. But I do think Veilguard is a good sequel to Inquisiton. Unfortunately for Bioware, this is the fourth game in a series not the second. As a fourth game, there are some really weird choices. On it's own, it's a really good game. I'm still going to get my partner to play some of it to see what they think as an outsider who only knows about Dragon Age via my chit-chat and reblogging.

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- a Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 8- Still Waters

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a weird historical festival, not being a strange lady who lives in the junkyard, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

“Fish-ing day! Fish-ing day!” Stan and Ford chanted in the back of the truck, Stan’s left hand now stuck in both a sling and a bright red cast that had Ford’s neat cursive and Dipper’s messy scrawl signed on it. He’d printed his own name in block letters as well, and he was going to make sure he got all sorts of signatures. Jimmy and Carla for sure, definitely Dan, he supposed he could allow Ford’s cool nerd friends to sign it if they asked, and hopefully Soos and Dolores as well. Last time he broke his wrist, no one but Ford signed his cast, but this time would be different. 

“Yunno, Granpa showed me how to put a hook on a line with my eyes closed,” Stan bragged. 

“He showed me how to make a fishing lure,” Ford bragged louder. 

“I’m sure you both have lots of fishing skills to teach me,” Dipper, despite his claims that he hadn’t ever fished, had managed to pull out a solid fisherman’s outfit, overalls and waders and even a beanie. He’d mumbled something about a cursed lighthouse when they’d pressed him on it.

“Yes we do.” Stan looked out the window as they drove into town to buy some fishing gear, but something seemed off. “Is that a covered wagon?”

“What?” Ford scrambled to look out his own window, voice growing increasingly  worried. “Grunkle Dipper?”

“Oh, it’s Pioneer day. I totally forgot.” Dipper drove around a cow and pulled into a space on the side of the road. “Yeah, this is the anniversary of Gravity Falls’s founding, so everyone dresses up and does historical activities. It’s kinda fun, what do you think?”

“This looks stupid.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Grunkle Dipper, those costumes are historically inaccurate!” Ford sounded like he was about to have a breakdown. 

“Okay, no Pioneer day.” Dipper shrugged before he pulled out his wallet and handed them five dollars each. “I still need to go get fishing gear, so how about you two get yourself some old-timey candy and we’ll meet back at the car in, say- half an hour?”

“What? You’re leaving us alone with the hicks?”

“They’re using modern breeds of chickens for their re-enactments, this is terrible.” Ford sounded faint.

Dipper got out of the driver’s seat, reached into the back, and dragged them out by the jackets, setting them on the sidewalk before he locked the car doors. “Go on, try candle-dipping or something. Museum’s free entry if that’s your style. Half an hour.”

“Half an hour,” Stan grumbled and scuffed his shoe against the pavement. 

Dipper smiled and patted them both on the head before walking off, leaving Stan and Ford surrounded by covered wagons and people being silly in costumes. It was so uncool. 

“... wanna get some old-timey butterscotch?” Stan shrugged. 

“Yeah, okay. I still think everyone’s using fabric that’s way too modern- that lady’s got a zipper showing, for crying out loud.”

Ford picked up Stanley’s discarded butterscotch wrappers as he followed his twin, his own pockets full of candy. Stanley kept opening the butterscotch wrappers with his teeth instead of just getting Ford to do it or doing it one-handed. He was so strange sometimes.

“Nope, this whole thing is still lame,” Stan announced after they did a circuit of the main activities. 

“Yep,” Ford agreed without hesitation. “I don’t think the pioneers should be celebrated very much either, I researched the Donner party.”

“Ugh. I remember you telling me about that. And you think I’ve seen gross things.”

“You told me you once saw a seagull get stuck in the freshwater taffy.”

“And it was one of the greatest things I’d ever seen.”

“Ewwwwww,” Ford laughed and had more butterscotch. “Wonder what that crowd’s about?”

“Let’s go see.” Stan thumped his shoulder, Ford giggling and returning the favour. Not to the arm in the cast, obviously, but the rest of Stanley was totally fine. 

They darted through to the front of the crowd, arriving at a stage in front of a stone statue of a guy who Ford felt had a very punchable face. A man sat in a chair in front of the statue with a creepy grin, and a kid with dark hair walked up to the microphone in a fur hat and suit that was obviously English Victorian- not Western Frontier. 

The kid reached up to the microphone stand and lowered it, tapping it a few times to make that awful feedback sound before he spoke. “Hello, everyone. I’m Preston Northwest, richest nine-year-old in Gravity Falls, and also great-great-grandson of our town founder. Go Northwests! We’re super rich and fancy!”

The crowd clapped and Ford shared a look with Stan. “He talks a little like the-”

“Sibling brothers, yep.” Stan scowled. “Snooty.”

“Wait-” there was something important about the name ‘Preston Northwest’. “Isn’t this one of Grunkle Dipper’s enemies?”

“Maybe?” Stan chewed his butterscotch seriously. “Why do people like him bragging about being rich?”

“Do you have the Pioneer spirit?” Preston’s eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Ford and Stan. Ford immediately shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his six fingers. He hoped he did it fast enough. 

Preston scowled, nose wrinkling in disgust. It was a common expression aimed at the Pines twins. “Uh- you guys don’t have any Pioneer spirit. Where’s your costumes?”

The entire crowd shifted to look at them and Ford stared directly at the ground. Why were they at the front? That was where people were noticed.

“I dunno, why are you wearing a dead rat on your head?” Stan pointed. 

“Uh. It’s a raccoon, duh. And it’s because I’ve got Pioneer Day spirit.” Preston sniffed, looking down his nose. “You clearly don’t. Who are you?”

“We’re the Pines twins.” Stan raised his chin defiantly, Ford keeping an eye on him, the crowd, this kid. He hated how this kid looked at them, like they were dirt on his shoe. Ford was a genius, and Stanley was- well, Stanley. Everyone kept treating them like nothing when they weren’t, they weren’t. 

“Pines twins.” Preston growled. “Ugh. Whatever, you’re not even invited anyway to Pioneer day. You’re not Gravity Falls people.”

“So what?” Stan snapped back, already getting angry. Ford gritted his teeth, matching his brother’s temper. How dare this kid say that? When Gravity Falls was the first place Ford felt like he truly belonged?

“Your kind don’t belong here, dummies.” Preston scoffed. 

“ Our kind?” Stan took a step forward and Ford grabbed his elbow. As great as it would be to see Stanley punch this smug lil kid’s face in, he was also aware that was a bad look. 

“Stanley, let’s just go.” Ford looked around, pretty sure the crowd was not on their side. Unlike the freak show, there was no way showing his hands would suddenly get this crowd on his side. They were pretending uggs were historically accurate, for pete’s sake. “We’re going fishing. Who needs Pioneer spirit?”

Stan looked back, tense and ready to fight. He huffed, reaching into his vest and turning his glare on Preston. “Congrats on being special because of some dead guy. Smokebomb!”

They darted into the crowd the moment the plume of smoke appeared, running out the other side and running away until they’d rounded a building. 

“They’re not very good pioneers anyway,” Ford patted his brother’s shoulder, trying to bite back his own anger at losing that confrontation. He may have been used to losing against bullies, but that didn’t mean he liked it. It made him feel small and his brain was too big for that. He was smarter than Crampelter and his goons, smarter than this kid, they should have realised that meant something. 

“Yeah.” Stan scowled and kicked a rock on the ground. “Ford, would it be wrong to beat up a snotty nine-year-old?”

“Rational, that sounds like a rational course of action. But not in front of a crowd, okay?”

“You’re a bit anachronistic.”

Dipper barely kept himself from fumbling the fishing supplies in his arms as he turned, rods, bait and tackle box, and a few other things precariously balancing. He looked at the woman, strands of silver-white glinting throughout her platinum blonde hair. She lifted her sunglasses to fix him with her usual judginess. “Fishing season started weeks ago. It’s practically retro now.”

“Pacifica.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not at Pioneer day?” 

“No, Preston’s doing the usual Northwest ceremony.” She checked her painted nails, leaning against her car. She looked far too modern for the town holiday. “He’s very excited.”

“Giving the speech with his dad?” Dipper knew exactly what minefield he was stepping into, but he’d never been anything but blunt with Pacifica in his life, and he wasn’t going to start dancing around issues now.

“Of course, Paxton’s an honorary Northwest, after all. It turns out we had a very interesting marriage contract.”

“That bad?” Dipper walked over and set his newly-gotten fishing stuff on the hood of her car, leaning against the vehicle beside her. 

“Split custody, he’s getting the mansion, the split of other financial assets is also stacked in his favour,” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “All in legal terms that would go over even your big head.”

“I’ve made it my mission in life to never return to a court of law,” Dipper shrugged, tucking his hands in the pockets of his overalls. “Why go through with it if you’re losing so much?”

She glanced at him, arching a brow. Probably tinted, or sculpted, or whatever people did with their brows. She’d aged more gracefully then he did, sure, but no one made it past forty without a little wear and tear. “You owe me a drink before I start answering those types of questions.”

“Yeah, do you want to start at the Skull Fracture or will we skip straight to Gnasty’s?”

“I’m not going back to that gnome bar.” The look she gave him could have deep-frozen a mountain lion. 

“You’re no fun anymore, Paz.” He grinned at her, long immune. 

“You’ve never been fun in your life.”

“Oh-ho, ouch.” 

“I’ll be getting you to throw up your anti-ghost wards on my new house once I’ve had my stuff moved in, by the way.”

“Can do. You’re staying in town?” His grin fell. Was she sure that was a good idea?

“Is that an actual question?” She scoffed. “It’s my town.”

“But the recurring bouts of amnesia- we still don’t know what’s causing them, but we know they’re localised to the town and being in the town itself heightens the risk of possible forgetfulness-”

“Are you still talking about that? It makes you sound like an insane conspiracy theorist. Like you have a corkboard and string.” She studied him. “You do, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering that question.” He had multiple. One for each theory. 

“If you’re so worried about your memories, why are you in town?” She looked him over. “And making such a fashion statement.”

“Uh- family fun day?”  

“That sounds like a nightmare, don’t tell me you’ve got a checklist again.”

“Checklists are extremely efficient!”

“The last time I saw you use a checklist you ended up fighting twenty of yourself and ruined Preston’s birthday party.” She pulled out a hand mirror, checking her reflection. Dipper was sorely tempted to poke the surface, just to leave a smudge. But no, he’d like to keep his hand attached to his wrist, he was quite fond of it where it was. 

“That was unintentional.” He was pretty sure that kid really hated him. Hated his shins, at least, Preston had a surprisingly sharp kick. 

“Whatever.” She glanced at him. “How’s your crafts project?”

“Won’t get much further without the other books in the series.” He slipped into the basic code they used, nothing like backwards talk but she refused to go along with that. No fun at all. “Still can’t find them at the local library.”

“Pity.” Pacifica sighed and pulled her sunglasses on. “And your ex-roommate?”

“He can’t evict me anymore.” Dipper placed a hand over the binding sigil hidden in his tattoos, meant to lock his spirit inside his body so Bill couldn’t pull him out into the mindscape. “I’ve got it sorted.”

“I remember the last time you said that.” She huffed and tossed her hair like a show-off. “You better be right this time.”

He chuckled and picked up the fishing gear. “C’mon, Paz. When am I ever?”

Stan hopped out of the truck, carefully parked in the woods around the lake rather than near the shore. Also not near the parking area by the pier. “What’s the plan?”

“You kids are gonna go into the building by the pier and be a great distraction, then meet me back here. It’s out of sight, so that should keep you guys from also getting banned.”

“Are you sure stealing a boat is the most logical course of action?” Ford hesitated before he took his jacket off and placed it under the car seat. Good idea. Stan did the same, only worrying about one sleeve since he was hiding the cast a bit, arm still in a sling. He didn’t want his smokebombs getting wet. 

“Stealing sounds fun to me, Sixer,” Stanley grinned and reached over the seats, messing up Ford’s hair. Ford laughed and batted his hand away. 

“Get off, you knucklehead.” 

There was the sound of paper flicking. Stan turned to see Dipper with a long list that unfurled in his hand. 

“Alright. You kids go first, try to be distracting for twenty minutes, set a watch or something, then bail. Got it?”

“I hope Fiddleford’s in there,” Ford smiled and clicked a button on his watch. “I wanna tell him about Gideon and the carnival.”

“I’m gonna ask if the lake water’s drinkable!” He said it for the disgusted look Ford shot him.

“It’s not. Try asking about what to avoid, Tate’ll give you the whole spiel. Bubbles and all.” Dipper folded up his list again, tucking it in his overalls.  “Ready for an adventure?”

Stan held out his good fist. “Ford, get your hand in here, we're gonna do a thing.”

“But we already have a high six-”

“A thing with Grunkle Dipper. Fists in.”

Dipper smiled bemusedly and did as told, leaning down to make it easier. Stan placed his fist on top. “Ford, complete the tower!”

“You’re really insistent about the weirdest stuff.” Ford rolled his eyes and did it anyway.

“Three, two, one-” Stan stole from the school sports teams back home, especially the one Shermie was on. Stan never had the knack for that team sport stuff, even though he liked watching other people do it. “Pines!”

Dipper followed Stan’s gesture with a grin. “That’s catchy.”

“It seems redundant but alright. I guess if we’re all scheming together we should have a thing?” Ford looked at his hand, wiggling his fingers. 

“Meet you back here, you rascals.” Dipper messed up their hair before he disappeared into the trees. Stan watched him go. He had to teach Stan how to pull a vanishing act like that, it was like something in a movie- like when people turned around and the killer suddenly wasn’t there. Super cool.

“So the amulet’s broken now? Forever?” Fiddleford clarified. Ford wondered why he’d gotten so pale during Ford’s recounting of the previous night. It was a pretty sunny and nice day, after all. 

“Yep. Too bad, I wanted to study it a bit, take some notes,” Ford sighed. Fiddleford gently patted his shoulder, which was nice too. It was amazing to have a good friend who could really keep up with him when he talked about science. He loved Stanley, but sometimes having to dial down what he was saying into layman’s terms was annoying. 

“Well, I mean, if it was so obviously evil, probably a fine thing you didn’t get the chance,” Fiddleford tried to cheer him up. “Do you and your brother want some sunhats? It’ll keep the sunburn off you.”

“Uh…” Ford did remember how painful sunburn could be. “Yes please. We don’t have much money though, we got a lot of butterscotch. Want some?”

“Well I would not say no to that!” Fiddleford smiled brightly and hopped the shop counter. “Let me nab those hats first.”

“Thanks.” Ford glanced over at Stanley, in the middle of bombarding Fiddleford’s dad with endless questions about the lake, but specifically weird distracting ones that weren’t easy to answer, like ‘have you ever personally drank the lake water’ or ‘could I fish using my foot as bait’. Weird stuff like that. Nothing all that useful, but maybe he would get some indication of supernatural occurrences they could investigate?

“It’s real nice having you drop by,” Fiddleford hummed as he sorted through the various fishing hats, limbs contorting with disturbing ease as he scuttled up shelves exactly like a possum. “I’ve been darn well bored stupid out here, I think the only reason my pops wants me to sit here behind the counter is so I can’t make any horrifying robots.”

“It does seem pretty quiet here. I guess it's more popular when it’s not Pioneer Day?” Ford felt a bit guilty about being a distraction now.

“I mean- first day of fishin’ season was a bit busy, but it’s a small town, not really anyone looking for anything they don’t already have.” 

“But… is it nice spending time with your dad?” Ford tried to be positive. Mr Tate didn’t seem all that scary, not like Ford’s Pa. 

Fiddleford set down two hats and gave Ford the driest look he’d ever been on the receiving end of, even after thirteen years sharing a room with Stanley. “This here’s the most I’ve heard him talk since I got here.”

“Oh…” Ford blushed a little in embarrassment as he tugged on the hat, looking down at the ground in hopes it might eat him. Or spontaneously turn into a second bottomless pit, even though that was by definition impossible. Maybe. Possibly. Could Grunkle Dipper let him do some tests? 

“Yep.” Fiddleford popped the P. “Don’t you worry none ‘bout that though, that’s my business.”

“Okay.” Ford was very grateful for that. But maybe- “we’re planning on exploring around the lake. Do you want to come?”

“I’d rather not be goin’ near that lake, on account of that terribibibble-” Fiddleford stumbled over the word and shook his head, looking a little annoyed, “ terrible shape I saw beneath the water. Long as a bus, I dare say.”

“... Would you happen to remember where exactly and could you mark it on a map?” Ford tried.

Fiddleford sighed and reached for a pamphlet. “Don’t do anything reckless, Stanford. And don’t show me whatever you fish up, I’d rather sleep at night, thank you kindly.”

“I’ll credit you as a key element of the discovery when I submit my evidence to all my favourite science journals!” Ford promised excitedly before the door to Mr Tate’s boat rental shop slammed open. Ford whirled, back pressed to the counter as he stared at the entrant. Blinked twice. What? “Who is that?”

“Oh no.” Fiddleford sucked air in his teeth. “Miss Chiu, I’m sorry, but you’ve been banned from this location!”

“Candy saw something in the woods!” The woman was short and hunched, her hair shock white and tangled, falling over half her wizened face, a frumpled, ragged sweater hung off her, so covered in moss and muck he couldn’t tell the colour or pattern it used to have. Her feet left mud tracks on the wood, tattered skirt held together by bandaids and mismatched stitching. She had forks bandaged to every finger on her right hand as she gestured excitedly. “I have seen the doppelgangers again! They’re gathering!”

“Hey!” Mr Tate pulled a spray bottle out of somewhere. “I told you to get away from the lake, you’ll scare the customers.”

“Dad, you can’t spray bottle her, she’s just an old lady.” Fiddleford gracefully hopped the counter and blocked his dad, hands raised to show his hands were empty. “Miss Chiu- do you need us to call someone for you?”

“I am a Mrs now.” She beamed and pulled an actual, honest-to-goodness fox out of her hair. “He will make me a happy wife.”

“... Congratulations?”

Stan joined Ford at the counter and picked at his teeth with his good hand. “I think they need to call someone , definitely. Maybe the nuthouse.”

“Stanley, that’s rude.” Ford chided. What did she say? Something about doppelgangers? 

“Lady, I need you to get away from my boathouse.” Mr Tate loomed behind his son. “You’ve been banned from the lake ever since you released boat-eating fungus into my shed.”

“My experiments require feeding.” The old lady- Candy- barely looked at them, her attention instead caught by the trail mix bags by the door. She drove her forks into one of the small bags, lifting it up and spilling mix everywhere. “Sustenance for Candy. And husband.”

The fox shoved under her arm stared at Ford with the most resigned expression he’d ever seen on a human or animal. He felt really bad for it. 

“Out!” Tate raised the spray bottle threateningly. “Go back to your dump, you old hag!”

“Pa!” Fiddleford snapped back. Wasn’t he scared? Why would he do that? “Stanley, Stanford, will you help me escort uh- Mrs Chiu outside? Mrs Chiu, why don’t you walk with me and tell me about these- er, doppelygangers.”

“I will explain in excessive and horrific detail.” 

“Yep!” Ford wanted to ask about the doppelgangers. “C’mon, Stanley. Also- I got us hats.”

“I didn’t agree to be volunteered for this.” Stan sighed and followed anyway as Fiddleford managed to bustle the old lady outside without touching the fox. Ford risked a glance at Fiddleford’s dad, expecting the glower that spoke of an oncoming explosion, but he’d just gone back to sorting out the tackle boxes. Strange. 

“I see them in a clearing, all with the same face,” Old Lady Chiu was gesturing animatedly, occasionally stopping to shove trail mix in her mouth, some of her teeth chipped and missing. “They are plotting great doom! There’s a blackboard with a many-stepped plan and they wear stupid hats marked with numbers. In four years they have not aged!”

“That sounds mighty creepifying, I reckon,” Fiddleford informed her bluntly as he managed to get her moving in the direction of the road back to town. “Maybe you should go tell the sheriff?”

“Yes, yes, Candy should. Grenda is… who is Grenda?” She reached up with her forks in a motion Ford recognised, and adjusted glasses that weren’t there. He felt an instinctive need to adjust his own, seeing the familiar movement. “Never mind! You should visit! I will let you assist in building death ray.”

“... I will- I will consider that. As an option.” Fiddleford gave her a nudge. “Please don’t come back? My pa’s really not happy with you.”

“But Candy is adorable!” She shoved the fox back into her hair as it stared at Ford. Its eyes screamed ‘help’ before it disappeared into the snowy white tangles.

“Yeah… I reckon Pa wouldn’t know adorable if it hopped up and bit him in the backside. Off you go, now, stay safe.”

Old Lady Chiu patted Fiddleford’s face with a smile, leaving a muddy handprint, and scampered into the woods. Ford felt like an observer, the same way he did reading the diary, or watching kids at school having fun and making friends. Something he wasn’t probably meant to be part of, but he knew it happened anyway.

“Well, that was random and made no sense.” Stan leaned his elbow on Ford’s shoulder. “Hey Ford, has it been twenty minutes yet?”

“You know her, Fiddleford? Has she mentioned doppelgangers before?” Maybe they should call off fishing day? 

“Why were you so nice to her?” Stan’s nose crinkled. “She seemed sorta-” he pulled away from Ford, made a circle by his temple, and whistled. 

Fiddleford’s shoulders straightened and the look on his face was stern, hard in a way Ford hadn’t seen. He’d seen Fiddleford excited, he’d seen him bored and glum talking about his dad, and he’d seen him scared, but he hadn’t seen Fiddleford look mad . 

“She’s a harmless old lady, that’s all.” Fiddleford glared at Stan, his accent gone from silly to sharp. “Not her fault her mind’s goin’ a bit. Least I can do is be nice to her, no one else in this darn unfriendly town is. So you mind your goshdarned manners.”

“Whoa, okay. Touched a nerve.” Stan put his hand in his pocket. “Who is she?”

Fiddleford scratched at the muddy handprint on his face. “I don’t rightly know. But I know she’s not meaning any harm. Just because someone’s a bit messy and don’t recall everything the right way, doesn’t mean they ain’t deservin’ of a bit of compassion.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I called her a nutjob,” Stan rolled his eyes. “What did she mean ‘doppelgangers’?”

“I wouldn’t put stock in it. She says a lot of things.” Fiddleford shrugged and trudged back to the boathouse. 

There was a yell inside of ‘where did my boat go?!’, and Ford winced while Stanley ignored ir. Looked like Grunkle Dipper was as good at boat theft as he said. 

Fiddleford didn’t notice the guilt on Ford’s face, taking his glasses off and cleaning the lenses with the edge of his sleeve. “Thanks for droppin’ by, Stanford. Stanley. Hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“Leaving?” Stan asked as Fiddleford stepped inside, finally accepting his hat from Ford and fitting it on. They both remembered how painful sunburn could be.

“Leaving.” Ford agreed as they ran into the woods towards where Dipper had parked, out of view of the little shore and the pier that acted as the lake’s only dock. Sorry, Fiddleford, but the hats weren’t that important. Not when Ford had the map. “Do you think we could look for the doppelgangers?”

“Can it wait? We’re fishing, right?” Stanley huffed out as they raced, shoes pounding on the forest floor. 

“Well- I mean, we’re monster hunting. Fishing is an extra, Grunkle Dipper’s going to show us supernatural stuff now, since he stopped lying.”

“But we’re fishing.” Stanley stopped running, forcing Ford to do the same if he wanted to continue the conversation. 

“Stanley, fishing’s fun,” when something was caught, “but Gravity Falls is full of real anomalies. Fiddleford’s lake monster, these doppelgangers, we have to investigate them.”

“Can you investigate the lake monster while we’re fishing?” Stan fidgeted with the brim of his hat.  

“Well- I suppose, but I mean, it’s not that efficient, and it would distract Grunkle Dipper,” Ford hesitated before he confessed, knowing Stanley would understand. He always understood. “Fishing’s not that fun anyway...”

“You’re just saying that because you’re bad at it and got a hook stuck in your hand.”

“It really hurt!” Ford’s cheeks grew hot as Stanley made fun of him. Why would Stanley say he was bad at it? Why didn't he understand? “I’m not bad- I just don’t like it!”

“Ford!” Stanley glared at him. “Why do you not like things that are fun?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ford stared at him, brows furrowing. He was always so hot-headed, Ford never knew why . 

“Whatever, nerd.” Stanley scoffed and stomped by, his shoulder knocking against Ford’s. 

“Why are you always so boneheaded!” Ford snapped at him as Stanley broke into a run, because really, this was illogical. Fishing was circumstantial fun where the circumstances were rare. It was a gambling game, an old man hobby, except the old man they were currently accompanying didn’t even do it. That made it a Granpa hobby. 

Monster hunting, now that was much better. That was Ford’s dream. 

Ford took a second to take a breath and focus on what was important. Doppelgangers in the woods with numbered hats, a giant shape in the lake marked on a map, a million other anomalies just waiting for him to discover. Why did Stan get angry so easily? It was rash, Ford wished he was better at not getting mad himself. He was supposed to be the logical one. Short tempers had no place in an intellectual mind. 

He looked out over the lake, placid and serene, but with fog gathered around the island in the middle. That looked like a perfect place to find anomalies! So many options, he could spend all day just chasing leads.

But he needed a boat for that, and the diary. Stanley had probably calmed down by now, Ford hated fighting, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong. Stanley was just being weird again. 

If Stan had to hear one more ‘can we go to that mysterious island’ outta his twin he might actually shove Ford overboard. Just a little bit.

“You mean Scuttlebutt Island?” Dipper deliberately enunciated the name as he pushed the tiller, steering them to the far side of the lake and away from the boat house.

“Butt Island.” Stan repeated, but he didn’t really feel the humour meant to come with something so funny.

“I’m not calling it that.” Ford huffed.

“Yeah, ‘course not.” Did he think he was better than them or something? Because of his mysteries? Better than doing something fun with family? Stan wanted to show Grunkle Dipper he was good at things that wasn’t just being a delinquent, couldn’t the monster hunt wait one day? 

“Trust me, kid, there’s nothing on Scuttlebutt Island but some really cute beavers. Soos and I scoped the whole place once, he took a ton of pictures.” Dipper reached into his jacket and pulled out a polaroid.

Stan perked up at the sight. “Wow, beaver with a chainsaw. That’s the greatest thing I ever saw, and I once saw a cockroach-”

“Please don’t mention the cockroach,” Ford cut him off before he studied Grunkle Dipper. “You just keep this picture? All the time?”

“Yeah… I was sort of insane that day. Convinced that I heard the Gobblewonker roar.” Dipper bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “But it was just this lil guy.”

“Gobblewonker?” Ford turned his whole attention to Grunkle Dipper. “Is that a lake monster?”

“Yeah, but trust me, if I haven’t found it, it ain’t in this lake. There is a giant nocturnal boat-eating head, but there’s no Gobblewonker.” Dipper smiled at the beaver picture, tucking it back into a pocket. Stan swore he caught a glimpse of other polaroids in there. “That’s what the beaver picture is for, a reminder that not every weird thing is an anomaly. Stuff just happens sometimes.”

“But Fiddleford says he saw something!” Ford pulled a pamphlet out and pointed at a marked section. “Right here! It’s even on the far side of the lake, please?”

“Well…” Dipper’s face scrunched a bit, the lines in his skin deepening.

“Can we just pick somewhere and fish?” Stanley kicked the side of the boat. “We gotta stay still when we do. Go to the stupid monster spot, I don't care.”

“It’s not stupid!” Ford shoved him. “Why are you being so mean?!”

Stanley got ready to shove him back before Grunkle Dipper intervened. Again. Like yesterday at the carnival. 

“Guys, guys, this is family fun day,” Dipper held them both by the shoulder, hand scrunching on the life jackets. “You’ve been getting along great since you got here, now two fights in two days? What’s going on?”

“Is this because of fishing?” Ford scowled. “Stanley, there are more important things then that-”

“It’s important to me!” Stanley snapped at him. “I thought it was important to you too but you’ve not shut up about anomalies ever since Chiu mentioned the doppelgangers!”

“Doppelgangers…?” Dipper echoed quietly.

Stan continued, ignoring Dipper. “You were gonna run off into the woods on the word of some crazy old bat and ditch me!”

“Stanley, you’re allowed to come on my anomaly hunts-” Ford adjusted his glasses and he wasn’t getting it . Stan wanted to tip over the whole boat.

“I want to go fishing!”

“Why?!”

“Because it’s something I’m better at than you!”

Ford just stared at him. Stan sat with the snapped-out words just a moment longer before he felt an awful knot of guilt in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to say that. He wasn’t supposed to think that. 

He was the spare Stan, he was meant to be proud his brother was so amazing- he was- so why was he saying it like it wasn’t the best thing ever? Toughen up, Stanley. Be a better twin. Do it for family. 

Ford shoved him overboard. 

The splash was loud enough that Dipper managed to shake his head clear of the memories of such a similar fight- history really did repeat, didn’t it- and leaned over the edge, scanning the water. Up bobbed Stanley, buoyed by his lifejacket. Dipper reached out a hand, keeping one braced on the boat’s edge. 

“Stanley, here-” he gripped the kid by the jacket, helping pull him up. The silence behind him shattered as Ford seemed to finish processing. 

“Ohmygosh Stanley I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I- are you okay?!”

Ford might not have known why he did it, but Dipper could make a guess. 

He remembered the fit he threw when Mabel got taller first, he hadn’t understood why she’d been so harsh about it, he thought she was the one who was good at everything he wanted, and the fight had brought down the house. He had been a raging bundle of insecurity back then, one poke and out came the venom. 

It was afterwards when Mabel handed him their games tally he’d finally understood, just a little bit. They were both jealous of each other for stupid reasons, in the end. She was fearless and he was nervous, he was tactical while she was impulsive. Different strengths for different scenarios, who even cared about how many chess games he could win?

Wouldn’t it be great if he could keep these kids from making his mistakes?

He got Stan out of the water and reached for the towel, wrapping it around the kid’s shoulders. He hoped the cast wasn’t gonna be damaged by a dunk in the lake. Stan batted at his hands, hackles up. Made sense, kid had a proud streak. “I’m fine , Dipper. I’m no weenie, I can take a dunking.”

“Stanley?” Ford asked hesitantly, and Dipper sat back, figuring that it might be best to let the kids talk it out. Preferably with no more shoving, why were these kids so pushy to each other sometimes? Had he and Mabel been like that?

Maybe they had. After all, shoving his twin through a portal had to come from somewhere, right?

Ford was wringing his hands together, polydactyly lacing and unlacing. “I… I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Eh, I was thinking about pushing you overboard lots,” Stan shrugged, and then he smiled. It was big and bright and Dipper thought it would remind him of Mabel, because there was so much of his twin in these kids, but no. Mabel’s smiles were real in a way this wasn’t. This smile was a lie. Stan still wore it. “Since you were being all nerdy about monster hunting.”

“... Sorry?” Ford fidgeted. “... Do you not like monster hunting?”

“I didn’t say that.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Sweet Moses, Sixer, I like the monster hunts. Don’t worry.”

“Then why are you so focused on fishing? And…” Ford shifted nervously. “Why did you say that you being better at it matters?” 

Dipper rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together in front of his mouth as a less-obvious method of clamping them over his mouth. The answer seemed obvious from someone who lived it, but if he just told them they’d roll their eyes and say ‘whatever, oldtimer’ or whatever teenagers did nowadays.

“Dunno.” Stan looked away. “It was a dumb thing to say.”

“Then why’d you say it?” Ford’s tone got sharper, more desperate. They were both so quick to anger. Dipper wondered if that was from Filbrick, not that Dipper knew anything about him beyond being his one and only nephew. It had to be Filbrick, or Caryn, right? Their grandpa had been the most relaxed older brother Dipper could have asked for. Mabel’s anger was deep and hidden, as long as a crush wasn’t involved. Dipper knew he wasn’t exactly a gentle soul, but these kids flared up so quick, their fuses were so short. Maybe it was just them, but even then…

Was Jersey really that much of a nightmare to grow up in?

“Why do you want to be better at me?” Ford leaned forward, hands pressed together in his lap. 

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.” Stanley deflected. What had gone on in his head, that he’d switched so quickly on a dime?

“You’re not stupid!” Ford pleaded. “Just say something.”

Okay, maybe Dipper could intervene a little bit. Tiny bit. Just a nudge. “You know- when I was growing up I was convinced your Granpa was better than me at everything. Maths, sports, you name it.” Mabel was good at everything Dipper wasn’t. Art, friendships, having people actually like her…

They both stared at him. Ford blinked first. “And?”

Dipper shrugged unhelpfully. “End of story. It’s a choose-your-own-message thing. Do you want me to look away and cover my ears now, let you have your moment?”

The mirrored unamused expressions were kinda funny, even if this was not a laughing moment. Dipper still covered his ears, pretending he wasn’t paying attention. It was a bit awkward to be in the middle of a sibling fight in a small space, he finally had sympathy for his parents during Pines Family Road Trips. Three kids jammed in the back, vying for space, legroom, control of the music, who could look out the window. He remembered elbows jammed in ribs and all three of them fighting like wild animals until dad threatened to turn the car around.

Family was such a pain sometimes. He missed it.

Stan was the one who scoffed and broke the silence this time. Ford bit his tongue to keep himself from bubbling over, mind whirling with a million things to say. Why did he push him? How could he push his brother off a boat? Why did Stanley say he wanted to do the same, what was wrong with them?

“I’m not jealous or anything lame like that. Don’t go thinking something stupid like that, okay?” Stanley started off, glancing at Grunkle Dipper. Ford also wished their Grunkle was not there momentarily, why did they have to do this on a tiny boat?

Focus, Ford. The real problem was there, and he could solve it, he just had to identify it. “Then why?”

“I just wanted to…” Stan looked away. “I’m not a screw-up at everything , alright?”

Oh. Ford remembered in the Jersey Devil’s lair, how Stanley had tried so hard to do something nice for dad and ruined it. It was an accident, but it still cost them a summer. It wasn’t bad, being inside all the time, certainly better than having to dodge Crampelter and his goons, but… “Do you think you’re a screw-up?”

But why? Stanley wasn’t- well, he wasn’t as smart as Ford, but nobody was, really, so that wasn’t his fault. Stanley was good at other stuff! Like- like punching! And lying! And reading people!

And… fishing too, he supposed. 

“You’re not a screw-up,” Ford repeated, trying to make Stanley believe it. “Is that why you want to show Grunkle Dipper how to fish?”

“You can do your monster hunting any time.” Stan mumbled, Ford straining to hear. “All summer. But we can’t get a boat every day. Not like home.”

“Yeah…” Ford knew exactly what he meant. A beach of sand and glass shards, and their perfect treasure, found by them, all theirs. They’d pushed it back into the secret cove and boarded it back up the moment they could, in the scant time before Shermie announced they were going to Gravity Falls and getting packed onto a bus. “It’s no Stan O’ War, is it?”

“Yeah.” Stan looked at him and smiled. Was it real? Ford couldn’t tell. He hoped so. “I mean- where’s the sail? I like that sail.”

“Me too.” Ford liked feeling like a dashing adventurer. 

“Speedboats aren’t very adventure-y,” Stan kept going, and Ford hoped this meant things were okay again. “Fighting a monster in this seems boring.”

“True, having a sail and a steering wheel is more suitably dramatic.” Ford smiled a bit brighter, hoping his contribution was acceptable. Was that it? All fixed?

Maybe… Maybe he should make a concession. “I don’t dislike fishing.”

He had all of Stan’s attention now. Stan was very good at focusing on someone. “You said-”

“I was… I guess we both said stuff we didn’t mean?’ Ford tried. “We can… we can look for the Gobblewonker tomorrow? And the doppelgangers?” It felt like a waste of time, but… he shoved his brother overboard, he probably owed him something. 

Stanley’s eyes shone. “Really?”

Ford nodded once, unprepared for Stanley to tackle him in a hug and drench him to the bone. It was freezing. 

Ford cautiously hugged him back and waved at Grunkle Dipper. “You can listen again.”

Dipper pulled his fingers from his ears. “If I could have gone to stand over there-” he gestured in a vague direction, “I would have.”

That would have made things less awkward. “Tomorrow can we go monster hunting? Today we’re teaching you how to fish.”

Dipper smiled and it looked like he was… proud. But why? For what reason? Could Ford recreate that?

Stanley let go of Ford and he looked happy again. Was it so easy to do that, all this time? Why did it matter so much to him?

“Grunkle Dipper, welcome to the Stan Pines Super Fishing School College!"

“Saying school and college feels repetitive,” Ford pointed out, unable to help himself.

“Shh, I’m teaching.”

Ford woke up in the middle of the night, looking around the room he and Stanley shared. Something didn’t feel right. Stanley wasn’t in his bed and Gompers wasn’t sleeping on the floor. 

He reached for his glasses before he realised he had them on- did he fall asleep wearing them again?

Blue and purple light shone in through the closed window and a jolt of familiarity hit him. Oh, this was another of those dreams. Okay. 

He always seemed to forget them until they happened again. 

He hopped out of bed and reached for the window, the words ‘it is polite to knock’ echoing in his head for a moment. 

Knock, knock on the window glass, the lines of a triangle etched into the panes, and the window opened, the milky way looking so much closer then it was supposed to. Ford grinned excitedly.

He climbed out the window to see the usual staircase of books leading up into the starry sky, colours that only existed in illustrations and not in the real night sky. 

Up the pathway of floating tomes he climbed, until the ground disappeared and he was left surrounded by the vast cosmos, infinite and mysterious. One day, he was going to explore every inch of it. 

And at the top there waited a friend. 

“Hiya, Sixer!” 

“Hello, Mr Cipher,” Ford smiled excitedly, stepping off the last book and into zero gravity, floating. It was so cool, these dreams were really fun. It was nice to not have nightmares about going to school with no pants on, or about Cathy screaming at him in third grade. 

“Ready to pick up where we left off?” Mr Cipher snapped his fingers and a chessboard appeared, the pieces placed just as Ford remembered them. “How about some space tea?!”

“I’d love some,” Ford smiled and accepted the cup as it appeared, the liquid inside full of swirling nebulas. It was like someone poured glitter into blackcurrant juice, and tasted just like it but even sweeter. 

He took a sip and stared at the board, waiting for Mr Cipher to make his next move. Mr Cipher’s hand hovered over the pieces before settling on his white bishop. 

“You know it was pretty selfless what you did today,” Mr Cipher commented, sliding the bishop three spaces along the board. “Letting your brother take over for a bit.”

“I mean-” Ford hesitated as he stared at the board. Hm. Rook or Knight? “It wasn’t that bad. It was fun. We even caught a carp." A boring normal carp, sure, but still a fish.

“Sure, but it was still nice of you to make your brother happy. You do that a lot, sacrifice your dreams for him. You think he appreciates it?”

“Of course he does!” Ford knew Stanley would do anything for him. “I don’t sacrifice things. Do I?”

“I’m just saying, kid, I bet someone as genius as you could have found the doppelgangers and the Gobblewonker in one day if you didn’t have to worry about him.”

“Well, yes, obviously- but it wouldn’t be fun if Stanley wasn’t there, you know?” Ford made his decision, moving his rook backwards to cover his queen. “We’re monster hunters together.”

“Like I said, you’re a real selfless kid.” Mr Cipher shifted a pawn forward. “I bet your great uncle thinks so too. He’s a weird guy, right?”

“He’s not so bad. Now that he’s not lying, at least.” Ford scanned the board as he thought five moves ahead. “Hey, why don’t I ever remember these dreams until they show up?”

“I dunno, Sixer! I’m just a figment of your subconscious!” Mr Cipher reminded him. “This is all in your head, so you should know!”

“I know, I…” he thought it over, hand dithering over his pieces. “Maybe it's just… happy dreams are harder to remember?”

“That sounds right to me, kid! Man, we’re a smart brain!”

“Can’t deny that.” Ford grinned as he made his move, placing his knight in position to take that pawn Bill had moved. Next turn, he’d make his move. “It’s still a little weird that a part of my subconscious is so aware. I’ve never read about anything like that.”

“We’ve never read about how other genius-level intellects dream!” Bill moved a different pawn. “Playing chess with yourself is a tried-and-true method of improving your skill!”

“That’s true.” Ford took Bill’s pawn with a smile, adding it to the small collection on his side of the board. “And that piece is mine too.” 

“Great move, kid!” Bill tipped his black top hat. “You’ve really got me on the ropes here!”

“Well, guess you’ll have to find an opening,” Ford smiled graciously as he picked up his tea cup from where it was floating. He almost had Mr Cipher in check. 

“Guess I will!” Mr Cipher laughed, high and screechy. Ford laughed with him, holding his tea cup, books and some of his favourite things floating gently around him. 

It was a nice dream. Sometimes it was a shame he had to wake up.

[fadetouchedsilk]

camellia mercar is the saddest wettest cat of a da protagonist i have and i didn't even get a say in that characterization but here we are. this game is Insane for making it look like everyone else is part of a groupchat that rook wasn't invited to but i guess i'm integrating that & coming out on the other side with something that's crossing into the territory of 'world's most unfortunate being, emotionally.'

anyway here's some comedic depression wherein i crank up the isolated vibes

so like. considerably less fun than Crypt Baby Rook, we have Abandoned Battlefield Baby Rook. which is already a very promising start /s

adoptive family was probably mostly fine? except being an elf it seems that she basically never left the property? which is like alright yeah sure tevinter is just Like That i guess. the important personal takeaway here is that a lot of time would have been spent on her Own and deeply under-socialized. this made her 1. something of a people pleaser and 2. Extremely weird if you paid enough attention for like .5 seconds.

absolutely internalized being Not Very Important at home & carries this for the rest of her life lmao. no one made her follow the 'do not speak unless acknowledged' rule, she put that one on herself.

isolation is The Only Coping Mechanism. she did not have friends, she had a string of pet rats over the years (acquired without permission). several of them were trained to do tricks. she had an abundance of free time by herself to do this.

unsurprisingly she's probably also tried whatever creative solo hobby you can think of

has absolutely internalized her lot in life as being sort of assigned to this role btw

in her mind 99.9% chance that varric assigned her a nickname because he didn't actually remember her name. this cannot be disproven, doesn't actually matter if it's the case.

not actually convinced that any of her fellow shadow dragons know who she is personally? (based on my vague memory of getting the letter from viper but then also the game introducing me to him in conversation like this was the first time we'd met. wild.)

(aside from having a general interest in wanting to make a difference, she also initially found the idea of the shadow dragons appealing because it was a cohesive group working towards a common goal, which felt like a good place to try and meet people right?)

(she does not manage to progress past Work Acquaintances Status with anyone. unfortunately. she justifies this with the idea that 'they probably already know enough people/maybe i wouldn't like hanging out with them anyway/maybe they didn't know if i drank or not and didn't want to make things weird, etc etc)

not invited to group hangouts at the lighthouse--this is an assumption borne of the fact that she's, yknow, pretty preoccupied with making sure we all don't watch the world explode & Die & also the whole 'alone = familiar' thing. it's an Incorrect assumption, she Does want to go to the group hangouts but legitimately has no idea how friendship dynamics operate outside of literal rats.

will say this is 100% fine with her, she's just happy everyone is getting along

(it's not fine. this sentiment is delivered with the energy of someone who is keeping a list of potential 13th reasons)

finds out about book club night after the fact. is trying so very hard to be chill about it, knows that she's stepped out of her typical role as a background character but that doesn't automatically mean that the rest of the status quo will shift along with that. (she is privately not chill about it & is in fact very sad)

you know those people who are very good at asking others about themselves & since they're always around you just Assume that it must be mutual, only to sit there and realize you don't even know what their favourite colour is or like literally anything else about them? yeah.

she wants to ask if anyone knows what her name is for real but is also afraid of the answer lol

you might be asking yourself, why does she allow this to keep happening? why not Say Something? & to that i say, look, we've all been in a situation where we try to make friends with an established group & how awkward that can be even if you're a more secure person. this is like that except she's in real time watching people become better friends with each other (since it's Not an established group) & none of them are choosing her :')

(we love residual childhood wounds) so, so willing to just roll with being the afterthought or more of a Concept of a person who happens to be useful instead of drawing attention to the problem & making things worse (worse how? she doesn't know, it's just the nebulous concept of Worse)

certain that the only two beings she know for sure actually like spending time with her would be Manfred and Assan. assan is food motivated though so that's toeing the line a bit. but manfred definitely likes being around her! that's a win. that's her only win.

she's a genuinely nice person she's just incredibly convinced she's going to go through life Alone & acts accordingly. it's not anyone's fault, that's just how it is.

this becomes painfully funny when she's dealing with solas or solas-as-varric

solas does not have to work hard to convince her that she's the odd man out or spin things to make it look like she's disliked so that he can manipulate her more easily. no no. there's at least a part of every fade conversation where she reveals some sort of crushingly lonely habit she's developed & is weirdly kind of relieved that at least He's taking some time to ask how she's holding up (never mind that this is a verbal hostage situation)

she kills his vibe so hard without trying lmfao.

'god i wish the inquisitor was here,' he thinks for the Nth time that week. 'isenril would have thrown a chair at me by now if i tried this with her. i miss that dynamic. she would just yell at me. i know how to work with that. this just feels. Bad.' it's like kicking a puppy except the puppy has been conditioned to accept it & has settled into resignation.

it's worse when he has to pretend to be varric. small mercy there is that she hasn't spent nearly as much time around him as the inquisitor but god. solas is Not a comforting person.

he's So uncomfortable whenever she sounds like she's going to start crying & has never pivoted to a different subject in a conversation so fast in his life. ('there there. you're uh. you're doing Great i'm sure everyone is noticing.')

like. he's still going to try and switch places with her in the fade at some point but he's not even certain she would argue about it afterwards.

he does not love the fact that she doesn't have Friends at the lighthouse because this means he's the default. he's done a lot of fake-napping mid-conversation with varric. give this man a daytime emmy. (he's cornered himself, no one else can see him so he can't even orchestrate a relationship with someone else to pawn her off on. he's in hell.)

also elgar'nan didn't even say anything specific to tempt her when they faced off lmao. everyone Else got a personalized taunt but not her (do you ever take it personally when even the god who wants you dead can't even bother to find out some basic wants of yours or are you normal)

the way no one checks in on her after minrathous. lol. lmao.

she's not going to hold it over neve for being upset. that would be insane & also she knows she's not being blamed for real, it's just a bad situation.

but also she does feel maybe like everyone Else might be blaming her? maybe just a bit?

guys you know i live there too right. guys. you know i made the decision because i thought that treviso would have the weaker defences & we would have had a better chance right. you know i'm not any more powerful than anyone else & had no way of knowing i would also be destroying My own home, right? Right???

yeah this is one of those moments where she removes herself from the situation and just breaks in private. she doesn't dislike neve at all (she wishes she was cool like that tbh, people seem to like neve much more in general. even the wisps seem to prefer neve over her) but one can only take so much concern for someone who is in the Exact Situation You're In without so much as a word directed your way.

also she feels irrational guilt for the choice so it doesn't help with the whole Feeling Punished thing

(again not like she Knew what would happen!! it seemed the more logical choice based on what she knew)

the catch 22 with withdrawing is that people tend to assume that you don't want them to intrude on your privacy, which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy if you already suffer from Terminal Lonely Disease. no one has seen rook since we got back really = she must be fine & not want help so we'll leave her to it = 'oh god they must Really not care about me all that much'

unfortunate situation where like. yeah she probably could have made things more obvious when it comes to connection efforts but also that shouldn't be one-sided effort either you know?

she's also fully expecting this to transfer over to any surviving faction members & if they don't end up hating her for it, it doesn't compute.

the relationship with lucanis is just. a comedy of errors & poorly communicated intentions tbh.

she likes him a lot but because he's the way he is there's no reason to think this is anywhere close to mutual

he remembered what she likes to drink but she also knows that he's the one typically making the grocery lists so like. yeah no shit he remembered she isn't special.

she's not a Confident flirt but the one thing she has going for her is that it's fairly obvious so she's pretty sure he's noticed he's just not into her. which is fine! no expectations so no disappointment!

maybe some disappointment

honestly she feels like she's made more of a connection with spite than anyone else at this point. spite likes her, spite Wants to talk about her. spite would be actively interested in seeing any of the rats she's trained at the lighthouse & would do so without making her feel silly for it.

(she's trained two. the have recall & can jump through a small hoop & she's working on object retrieval. these are new rats she grabbed as coping mechanisms at some point because it felt more reactive than talking to the fish in the tank.)

this only goes so far because of the body sharing thing (she thinks it might be crossing some sort of boundary) but the point is that the Literal Demon is somehow the only being who seems to actively enjoy her presence & make this fact known

unsurprisingly the Almost Kiss makes spite insane. 'lucanis why are you upsetting my best friend rook. are you stupid i think you might be stupid. she's not going to come here anymore do you understand that. she's crying. look at what you did.'

guess who starts aggressively avoiding group mealtimes (on purpose this time not like 'oh sorry everyone already ate, there's leftovers though') & the pantry in general. at some point she just starts her own mini pantry in her room to avoid crossing paths.

you thought she spent time on her own before? you haven't seen the 'i got my hopes up & it went nowhere which i Should have expected so i'm not even mad about it really but i am humiliated & feel very stupid for actually wanting something & don't want to talk about it' version of Isolation yet. it's real bad lmao.

like she's still going out & doing her job and also helping the rest of the team is at least something else to focus on (but gosh it sure would be nice if literally anyone asked if she was doing okay)

spite would like to do that but he's Not Allowed and couldn't be more unhappy lmfao.

(note: this will not even be remotely addressed until after 'inner demons.')

the 'i made you a dessert' lock in scene doesn't translate at alllll. he thinks he's being So Smooth & So Obvious (it's not another gifted knife without context). in his mind this was a success. as far as she's concerned this was literally just about dessert.

slowburn is great. he's treating every conversation like actual relationship progression & she's like. well we're friends again i think i'll just be happy with that much.

low self worth & self doubt keep her stagnant

fade prison break out is. something else. it's been an unpleasant hour for her & a month for everyone else. harding is dead bellara got Grabbed by the blight & solas is Loose. everyone is having a great time. super fantastic.

girl is legitimately surprised there was That much of an effort to find her since she's lost the dagger & solas isn't in her head anymore (not that she's complaining)

atp her only goal is to try & un-fuck everyone's lives as much as she can before something inevitably takes her out (she is not the hof she is not the inquisitor she assumes she Will be dying at some point soon thanks)

fucking news to her that she's apparently been in a relationship for at least the duration of her time in the fade. that talk ends up much the same way as we see it play out but not before a Lot of incredibly distressed clarifications.

this isn't lucanis getting dragged he feels So goddamn bad holy shit. spite feels vindicated finally, he was Correct & his human counterpart really should have just listened to him instead of whatever the fuck he was trying to do.

anyway the lesson here is that you waste a whole lot of time getting wrapped up in your own issues when you Could have been going on actual dates instead (this is a call out for both of them they're both annoying about it)

by the end of things she still doesn't. really feel 100% part of the group lmfao but it's maybe not as terrible?

i also just think as a professor emmrich has had More than enough students break down in his office to recognize her particular flavour of instability. he's probably going to end up putting in some extra effort. perhaps he will even learn about some of her hobbies & even coax her into doing them outside of her room or on one of the private balconies

bellara also likes her i think she just has horse blinder style hyperfixations & forgets regular socialization. time blindness will hit her like a truck. it's fine.

camellia Needs to be explicitly told that she's getting a good grade in friendship, something that's both totally normal to want & possible to achieve

she still doesn't like to tell people about the trained rats though because when she inevitably explains Why she knows how to train rats she realizes as she says it that her childhood was actually probably pretty sad sounding.

actually every time she starts to talk about how she grew up she kind of stops herself halfway through like Huh. actually maybe that wasn't as fun as i remember it being you're looking at me with concern.

anyway she knows how to cross stitch & does watercolours. those are her main things. please show some interest in them she's dying to talk about them but will not take the floor on her own.

please stop calling her rook also she's losing her mind & it's been so long at this point she doesn't know how to address it :')

[lookformebymoonlight]

it's incredible how much more immersed a de riva feels in the story and faction than a mercar, having played a shadow dragon first and a crow second.

my shadow dragon somehow doesn't know neve or ashur or tarquin. no one in the base seems to recognize her or speak to her. neve introduces her to areas of dock town as if she, who as someone freeing slaves, should surely be familiar with. the dialogue options further along in the game add comradery but that's it.

contrast that to my de riva, who receives a letter from viago affectionately addressed "idiot" as soon as i get to the lighthouse. who teia remarks on viago being glad to have home even if he won't show it. who gets to geek out about meeting the demon of vyrantium. who heir says "it's good to see back in treviso" and that viago also misses. that gets special dialogue from viago during the illario combat. whose relationship with lucanis immediately feels like one of understanding.

my shadow dragon still felt like a tourist in minrathous. my crow feels like they're at home in Treviso and that they have a family there. and i love it so much.

[elvhenmage]

12-16 + 26 for Elowen ~

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

elowen is part of clan lavellan! they weren't born dalish though, they've only been with clan lavellan since dai, so about ten years. the only family they had before that was their parents, and i don't have much info on them yet but i know they're on good terms so elowen definitely keeps in touch with them <3 (she is Bad At It though because she just. forgets to write. so they have to send her multiple letters sometimes before she remembers to write back)

13. Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse?

varric's hand mirror and the ancient elven scroll for sure. a little wooden sculpture that looks like the vhenadahl from the wycome alienage. i want them to have something from nailah/clan lavellan as well but i gotta think more about it 💭

14. What does Rook see when they look in the mirror?

LOTS of freckles. wild curls. smile lines. someone who is finally happy with who they are, even though they're still working on being happy where they are.

for the varric's hand mirror scene, i locked in their nonbinary status with it <3 i really liked the additional dialogue it offered throughout the game

15. What’s the first thing people notice when Rook enters a room?

elowen is LOUD. he'll bust through a door without thinking and he'll talk too loud without realizing it, especially when he's pissed off. you'll know when elowen shows up because you'll probably hear him ahead of time

16. Got any tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

so they have their vallaslin, of course. they got theirs later than most since they didn't join clan lavellan until they were 18/19 and to me atm these are sort of a cross between andruil and the general veil jumper aesthetic. i thought about giving them dai vallaslin to go with clan lavellan but i didn't really like many of them + i like the way these kind of parallel elowen's um.... like, how they're neither fully a city or a dalish elf. not sure how to phrase it exactly. i like to imagine the veil jumpers have been around a little longer than they have been in-game so elowen has time to be with them and that's what influences their vallaslin choice

i'm not sure what the story is behind the chest/torso tattoo, maybe she just thought it was cool, but the tramp stamp is probably from losing a bet to elio LOL i don't think he has much of a backstory in-game so i'm taking him and making him elowen's best (and potentially Only) friend in the veil jumpers. they're troublemakers <3

26. Rook is in charge of the grocery list. What’s on it?

chocolate, of course 🤭 and everything necessary for cioccolata calda so they can give lucanis puppy eyes until he makes it for them (which he is happy to do because they're besties<3) but if it's their turn to cook, they're getting stuff for emerald soup and/or elfroot and potato dumplings!

fifty questions for rook

[superiorn3rd]

A short bit of my first Fanfic in a while

Wrote this cause I got some inspiration to start writing again. Also thank you @skrevel for saying you’d read this lol that was my final push. I’ll probably keep updating this on AO3. It’s called “Contracts” and my user on there is Fandom_Gremlin. I will try and post updates here too but idk how that will work

Contracts Lucanis x Female Rook

This aludes to abuse suffered while becoming a crow. Nothing too intense but be wary if you are sensitive to that <3

The lighthouse was quiet, though no day cycle could be seen from this place in the fade, it seemed as if the team had finally all ended up asleep at one time. That is the team excluding Rook. With tensions high and the Wardens still looking for the gods in Arlathan, Rook couldn’t seem to sleep. It didn’t help that the stress was causing nearly nightly nightmares. Whether they be about Weishaupt, Elger’nan, or her training days as a crow, it seemed none of Rook’s demons wanted her to sleep. So that is why she quietly opened the door to her chambers, hoping the large door wouldn’t wake Emmrich or Varric, and found herself walking through the library and out across the open courtyard to the raised porch on the side of the dining hall. Here, near the newly blossoming tree, Rook really felt like she could think. The cold breeze she felt, either imagined or truly realized by the lighthouse’s connection to their wants and feelings, always calmed her nerves. She could feel it brush softly against her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Sometimes just that was enough to lull her into a state where she could convince her body to give way to sleep. Other times she could swear she could smell the Cafes of Treviso and the ache for home, for almost simpler times, would make her want to yell into the endless fade. But tonight was different.

Beyond the door into the kitchen Rook could hear the faintest humming. She shifted away from the edge of the porch, silently putting her back to the door. She knew it was Lucanis on the other side, the only other person that would be awake right now, but she didn’t want to disturb him. Since becoming First Talon he has been flooded with letters and questions. Most of which he still passed on to Caterina but with the ones he couldn’t pass on the stress had been steadily stacking up. Rook didn’t know how to help and also didn’t feel it was her place anymore now that he was First Talon. Plus she was pretty sure she was developing feelings for the man and that possibility on its own scared her. She would never see the light of day if Viago found out. Or any other crow for that matter. Viago and Teia might fool around but it was different when it was two talons who could kill anyone that questioned how they spent their free time. Rook was just a member of house de Riva. Not a Talon and before all of this end of world crap she wasn’t even in the top ten most famous of Treviso. So the least amount of time spent alone with Lucanis the better. When would she have time anyways to pursue a romantic “entanglement” as Solas would put it.

“Rook?”

Rook was instantly taken out of her thoughts by the sounds of her name. She debated silently slipping away before he came to check the door.

“Rook I can see your shadow at the door and Spite told me it was you.”

Damn Spite. Rook stood, opening the door.

“Hey Lucanis, I was just enjoying the weird twilight fade air, what are you doing”

Lucanis was sitting at the table, as always a cup of coffee sat at his side, and he had paper set in front of him.

“Trying to organize a few contracts for another house, Teia asked me to go over them” he said rubbing his temples.

“Interesting, anything good?”

“No, mostly contracts on Antam officials, some of which we can’t even put into place because it’s just too easy to get citizens caught in the cross fire”

Rook walked down the wooden stairs and looked at the nearly empty pot of coffee.

“Do you want me to brew some more?”

“Hm?” Lucanis looked up, he seemed exhausted. “Oh, it is fine, I’ll make some more. I need a break any how”

He stood and motioned for her to sit. When she did she watched him work. Making sure to perfectly measure out the blend as he went.

“Don’t like my coffee?” Rook said smiling.

“The only person here who makes worse coffee than you is Neve, and that really isn’t much of a high bar”

Rook chuckled, “I make what I need to stay up”

“Speaking of which why are you up Rook? At least I have a demon I am keeping at bay”

“Just some demons of my own, weishaupt and seeing elger’nan hit me hard” Rook shrugged getting up from her seat to find herself a cup.

“Nothing I can’t handle”

Lucanis hummed a response as the coffee finished. He poured into her cup then his resting his back against the fire place.

“You know we haven’t had the chance to talk shop” he said sipping his roast.

“I am not sure you’d find any of my contracts interesting, Mr. Demon of Vyrantium” Rook wiggled her fingers exaggerating the spookiness of the title. Lucanis groaned and laughed a little.

“You asked me before, if I resented Caterina.” He looked into the fire. “I didn’t want to press you then, traveling with Emmrich, but I have been meaning to ask about Viago.”

Rook’s eyebrows knit together.

“What do you mean?”

“No one else here knows what it means to grow up a crow. I understand what we go through, but I also know Viago. How did he treat you during your training.” He looked at her now watching her face and Rook took a long drink of her coffee. She brought a finger to a scar on her cheek.

“Viago was no worse than any other Talon. He pushed me, hard, to keep me alive. But I wasn’t always of house de Riva.” Rook sat at the table. “I once worked for the eighth Talon. They were the one that brought me into the ranks as a child. They were the one that changed me most. After that Viago’s shouting, his disappointed jabs, and his harsh demeanor seemed akin to a warm beach day in Rivain.”

Lucanis thought for a minute and nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. Rook wanted to know what he was thinking. His face was impassive and it took everything in Rook not to push further. Lucanis took the cup from Rook’s hands and set it down on the table.

“You should probably get back to sleep, I have kept you long enough. Spite will get jealous if you stay around too long” he flashed a smile at her and put an arm out to walk her to the door. “If you ever need anything Rook, I am here, the Crows will always have your back.”

[xoxoemynn]

Sorry for spamming your likes, I just saw you were sending lovely letters and I went and read a bunch of them and it just really got me in my feels 🥺

So, I’m going to send YOU a lovely letter, because you also deserve one!

Reading through your letters just now was honestly so lovely and uplifting, which was something that I really needed to see rn and basically brought me to tears (I’ve been very emotional lately so I mean, take that as you will 😭). Your letters are so personal and thoughtful and specific. It’s just shows that you really put a lot of effort into being a kind person and making sure that people feel seen and heard and that’s just really something else to see sometimes when it can feel like you’re all alone. All it takes is that one person, that one kind word, to make you realize that not everything sucks all the time and you are kind of like that for me.

I know we don’t talk that much, but your presence in the fandom is always so positive and supportive and even when your words aren’t directed at me, they still resonate with me and have helped me thru some pretty tough times these last few months. But especially through your fic.

You are one of the most talented writers I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy and I am so grateful every day that you are willing to share that with us. I know I gush about the Lighthouse Boys all the time, but that story hit me in a very special place in my heart and even though you got 12 very detailed comments from me about how much I loved that story, I’m gonna go ahead and tell you again because it really does just mean that much to me.

Thank you for being here and for being you. I hope you have a wonderful evening. 🫶🏼

NEVER HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR SPAMMING MY LIKES, THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT MY BLOG IS HERE FOR.

And I am very 😭😭😭😭😭 about all of this, which is partially what took me so long to reply because how do I even come close to matching this energy??? But thank you so much for recognizing these love notes, that actually means so much to me. I genuinely thought I'd be able to finish them all in a couple of days, but I did really want to make them all feel personal and individualized and not just general "you're really great! 👍" because truly there ARE so many incredible people on this site who've shaped my experience here in big and small ways and they all deserve to feel loved and special. And unfortunately I have a job and a family that drain me LOL and I haven't felt I was able to put into them as much as they deserve as quickly as I wanted and felt bad they dragged on so long but IT WAS OUT OF LOVE.

Thank you for all your kind words, thank you for loving Lighthouse Sanctuary so much. All your incredibly thoughtful comments meant so much to me. That story is really special to me and is one of the most personal ones I've written, so any time I hear of someone loving it especially hard it just gets me right in the heart. 💖

And that also makes me think about you. You love SO hard. You feel SO deeply. And I know that can be a blessing and a curse because sometimes it's just like........ where do you put it? Where do you put all these emotions?

But what you do is channel those emotions into making others feel good. In hearing them, even if they're not saying anything out loud, in validating them, in making them feel loved and supported and seen. You always go out of your way to better people's lives in whatever way you can (like, um, this very message?!), even when you're going through the horrors yourself. That takes so much strength and I admire you so much for that. You deserve all the very best things in life. 💕

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Sad song's.

Pairing: Yuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso, Hiromi,Kusakabe

A/n: Spoilers

I was in your arms

Thinking I belonged there

I figured it made sense

Building me a fence

Building me a home

Thinking I'd be strong there

But I was a fool

Playing by the rules

•

But tell me, does she kiss

Like I used to kiss you?

Does it feel the same

When she calls your name?

Somewhere deep inside

You must know I miss you

But what can I say?

Rules must be obeyed

↳Kusakabe

《

《

I'd take another chance, take a fall

Take a shot for you

And I need you like a heart needs a beat

But it's nothing new, yeah yeah

I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue

And you say sorry like the angel

Heaven let me think it was you

But I'm afraid

It's too late to apologize, it's too late

I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late, whoa

↳Geto.

《

《

I miss you

Miss you so bad

I don't forget you

Oh, it's so sad

I hope you can hear me

I remember it clearly

The day you slipped away

Was the day I found it won't be the same, oh-oh

I didn't get around to kiss you

Goodbye on the hand

I wish that I could see you again

I know that I can't

↳Nanami

《

《

Until I hit the city limits, 'til I hit the state line

'Til I reach a coast, or a ghost town a thousand miles out

Keep this needle hittin' 90

'Til your memory can't find me anyhow

Keep the pedal down

'Til I see some taillights that don't make me think of you

'Til I'm pulled over on the shoulder by some flashin' blue lights

'Til this heart forgets to break

I don't care if it takes me all night

I'm gonna drive you outta my mind

↳Hiromi

《

《

I miss those blue eyes

How you kissed me at night

I miss the way we sleep

Like there's no sunrise

Like the taste of your smile

I miss the way we breathe

But I never told you

What I should have said

No, I never told you

I just held it in

And now I miss everything about you

I can't believe that I still want you

After all the things we've been through

I miss everything about you

Without you, whoa

I see your blue eyes

Every time I close mine

You make it hard to see

Where I belong to when I'm not around you

It's like I'm not with me

↳Gojo

《

《

I need a do-over, how did we end up this way?

I'm so confused, lover, did I mistake love and pain?

Ain't got no shine left, I couldn't hide it

I almost lost all my light, and

I didn't choose sober, but my eyes can't look away

I see our true colors, lately, we've been lookin' gray

I can't turn back now, 'cause you'd take me back down

That road that always seems to come right back around

Remember when

We had dreams to fly away?

But that was then

And now our story's just a page

Like a wave, you're always crashin' into me, crashin' into me

And these days are harder than they used to be, and they used to be

No shootin' stars can fix what we aren't, and

What good's a lighthouse when the light is burnin' out?

↳Megumi

《

《

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show

And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control

But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain

To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain

From my eyes

Tonight I want to cry

Would it help if I turned a sad song on

"All By Myself" would sure hit me hard now that you're gone

Or maybe unfold some old yellow lost love letters

It's gonna hurt bad before it gets better

But I'll never get over you by hidin' this way

↳Toji

《

《

But I don't care what they say

I'm in love with you

They try to pull me away, but they don't know the truth

My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing

You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love

I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love

You cut me open

Oh yeah

Trying hard not to hear, but they talk so loud

Their piercing sounds fill my ears, try to fill me with doubt

Yet I know that their goal is to keep me from falling, hey, oh

But nothing's greater than the rush that comes with your embrace

And in this world of loneliness, I see your face

Yet everyone around me thinks that I'm going crazy

Maybe, maybe

↳Sukuna.

《

《

They took you away on a table

I pace back and forth as you lay still

They pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you

I don't wanna let go

I know I'm not that strong

I just wanna hear you

Saying, "Baby, let's go home"

Let's go home

Yeah, I just wanna take you home

↳Choso

《

《

This is the place where I sit

This is the part where I love you too much

This is as hard as it gets

'Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough

I'm here if you want me

I'm yours, you can hold me

I'm empty and achin'

And tumblin' and breakin'

'Cause you don't see me

And you don't need me

And you don't love me

The way I wish you would

The way I know you could

I dream a world where you understand

That I dream a million sleepless nights

Well I dream a fire when you're touching my hand

But it twists into smoke when I turn on the lights

I'm speechless and faded,It's too complicated

Is this how the book ends,Nothing but good friends?

↳Yuji

[theredconqueror]

8, 24, 29!

8. What makes Rook a good leader? He most likely doesn't actually think of himself as being a good leader (a pseudo-insecurity), but he has an idea of the things to do that would make him seem like one — checking in and connecting with people (which has a pragmatic purpose, as will be answered below). He's a clever strategist and he can be good at being a diplomat (both in person and in letters), and can generally keep a cool head and he most certainly will not appear fearful despite the circumstances, in part because of the fact he is not mortal and also because he doesn't really care if he dies. This means he will fight at the front lines with his companions and not hang up, which will probably gain the respect of those he fights with. He's also capable of making difficult choices and can do that hard thing that needs to be done (the necessary evil). 24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed? Not that he actually sleeps, but... I think he does do a round around the Lighthouse and subtly checks in to see how his companions doing. It might not be as overt as literally going into someone's room, but he'll make sure to speak with anyone who might have expressed they had something to say to him, or if there was a large event that day that might have affected them, he'll see how they are. There's some level of kindness in it, but it's just as much knowing what the people he is around are thinking and seeing how they are acting. Betrayal is a concern, as evidenced by the god he now has in his head, and it feels like not catching onto Solas was something he "missed", and he does not want that to happen again. Otherwise, once it's the actual downtime part of the night for him and there's no work for him to, he'll probably spend the whole night reading with a cup of tea (or possibly check in with a certain elvhen god). 29. Any vices? Not the traditional ones, anyways. If he has a vice, it's wrath. It's the thing that can utterly consume him (and did, to the point of that he risked breaking the world to get petty revenge). There's a streak of pride in him where he believes he knows better and that he could fix things if only he was in control, such as if he became Archon, which was always his great ambition in his mortal life (or at least, the ambition that got instilled in his father). And then maybe, the worst vice perhaps is regret/self-pity; he believes himself a monster and won't allow himself to be truly vulnerable with others and let them get close, believing he'd be hated for the truth of what he is. There's a shard, which I haven't really explored yet, that hates & laments the idea of that the only ones who did & would accept him as he truly is are the Evanuris. If the plan of the Evanuris was not basically mind-control? Well.......

[mercysought]

Asharen Lavellan Post Trespasser and Veilguard lore post

This first part will not have spoilers for Veilguard.

Between Trespasser and Veilguard (no spoilers):

After the Inquisition disbands, Asharen returns to her clan which camps around Antiva City. She visits and stays with her siblings and licks her wounds. A reminder that she is not the First of her clan. The First was her second eldest sibling, who died in the conclave. They have a different First by the time she returns.

Eventually, she settles in a small house just outside Antiva City. It has an orange tree in the backyard and some wildflowers that she takes care of.

She allows herself to just be Asharen Lavellan for a while. Not "Inquisitor", not anyone special just be. She goes out, has drinks, dances, sings, goes to markets, takes care of her trees, writes letters to her friends. All her letters are sent except those to Solas Those she buries by her trees, it feels cathartic.

It takes a very long time before she feels ready to pick up the sword again (so to speak). It takes a time of cycles between anger, sadness, betrayal, heartbreak and dealing with the new reality of her disability before she feels ready. The whole affair with the exalted council, the Qun and Fen'harel's agents shake her more than she'd like to admit.

The feeling of powerlessness takes a very long time to leave her.

I have some ideas about what drinking the well made and the impact, but I haven't fully formulated that for now!

She owns one eluvian which she keeps locked in the basement of her home - protected by rift runes to make sure that no one can come and go as they please. Mostly she fears more attempts on her life from the Qun and from Fen'harel agents (though the latter never truly come and she feels ashamed later to think that it might, but alas doesn't regret it)

She starts reaching out to build a network of trusted people to get information on Solas and where he might be. She reaches out to all the inner circle, this is how she starts working with Varric and Harding again.

This is also when she invests in a prosthetic for her arm.

It is with renewed peace and acceptance that she finally puts in the proper resources to track Solas down. And it's a lot of work, 8 years is a very long time, especially to keep her resolve.

Advisors she has once Veilguard starts (in italics are companions that are physically accompanying her):

All advisors she had before (minor capacity a lot of them)

Any inner circle companions that might be willing to help, Dorian and Varric being particularly large figures in this part of her life. Varric she was already close to, but she grew closer to Dorian here.

Morrigan / Merril

Émilie de Clair, who becomes a close advisor and friend

Maxima Aurum, whom she trades her Eluvian in exchange for more eyes and ears within the Magisterium (drabble here)

(will likely add more as I go)

Veilguard (end-game spoilers under the cut) this is all still subject to change as I sit, write and think more about it

The Inquisitor in my verse would not spend so much time in the South. Choosing instead to spend most of her time in the Lighthouse, acting as an advisor to Rook.

Asharen is, at this stage, a Veil and Rift Scholar. She is well-versed in the fade, but she is not a great general or even close to being able to keep the South holding together like the game implies. She goes to the South frequently though, to give them any support she can. However, that comes in the shape of either calming the fade, demons or spirits. She aids in whatever capacity she can - be it keeping the peace between leaders where she can, leveraging her contacts where she can, but she is there more as an advisor and maybe a religious figure to some? Not actually what is holding everyone together. The rest of her time she spends in the Lighthouse with Rook and the Veilguard. She is there as an advisor and will not accompany Rook in the field except on the missions where they plan to take down the Gods directly

Whatever free time she has (which is little to none) she would attempt to study a way of getting Solas out

She spends a lot of time working through the Crossroads, attempt to untie the corruption and finding any allies she can there, finding out more information on the gods, gather information to help Rook

Spending more tine in the Lighthouse, however, also means that she would have likely clocked at some point that Rook is seeing Varric and talking to him, which is something deeply troubling for her and she brings up with Rook and also troubling for what that might mean for Solas and the lengths he is willing to go.

She spends most of her time (respectfully) rifling through the Lighthouse, especially the libraries and she prays she finds nothing about herself there because she doesn't have the mental capacity to deal with that at that moment.

Enjoys the company of Emmrich, Harding and Bellara in particular. She doesn't prepare her coffee like Lucanis' but appreciates it especially given she needs it.

Which, speaking of, she attempts to aid in any way they can with the time they have if he is willing.

"Bury me in work", that's a very good descriptor for her during this time.

The conversations around his regrets just got about 50% more awkward, especially given the comments about Mythal that are made. You're welcome.

It will depend on the Rook but the second conversation, the one about Solas' relationship, happens at the Lighthouse and it's likely as frank as in the game presents it. The logic is that Asharen, knowing what has been happening with Rook, what will likely happen still, feels that she must humanise Solas in Rook's eyes if she is to have any chance at making sure that she will have a chance to talk him down the ledge. It is imperative.

In the end, she makes the decision to go with him in his journey to atone

About Solas and their relationship as I see it

Solas sends his letter and it only strengthens her resolve for what she must do

After Trespasser, she almost made herself believe that he was in her past. Forgiving him, yes that is possible, but getting back together is not something she believes possible or considers up until talking with Rook.

Deep down, and despite all of her conflicting feelings, her anger and her scabbed-over wounds, she still loves him (and she knows this is likely as close to a fatal character flaw as she'll get lmao)

For better or worse, Asharen believes up until the very end that there is a chance that he can be turned from the path he walks and the letter only makes her dig her heels deeper.

I still stand for the fact that Asharen wouldn't normally have such a frank and vulnerable discussion as she had with Rook in the game with just about anyone. I think Rook is more of a companion in this version and the fact that she sees this as the last hail mary to save him. She knows other people will not follow her word as they once did, nor will they see him as she does. Émilie certainly doesn't.

This being said, I am glad they say this in the game: Asharen would not have joined Solas even if he had asked. She sees this world as good, and him as part of it. And he is worth fighting for too. This doesn't mean he should not atone.

In-game, a Rook exploring the Crossroads will find bits and pieces of her letters that she buried in those trees (you can read them here)

She doesn't drink tea anymore, and it's his fault.

She loves this world and him, and she wants him to one day be able to see it as she does.

[arthur-lesters-tummy]

day 77 of the dreamlands

sorry I've been MIA, seasickness got to me. I just read the letter from @arthur-lesters-tits (not sure how we received mail while on a ship but that's the dreamlands for you...). your writing was purple, if you can believe, hope you get colours back soon!

@arthur-lesters-ribcage and I are finally at the island, Hinon! i'll see if i can find us a quicker way back because 2 weeks was a long trip -surely someone here has a speedboat- and i don't fancy going through the zone of forgetfullness again, if it can be helped (unlikely). i suddenly have a journal in my possession that i don't remember purchasing or writing in, but it looks like my handwriting, with entries saying i did terrible things when we docked for a break at Nus. it doesn't mention what ribcage did, and they seem normal, so i assume they don't remember and didn't keep a record what happened, or what they did. ah, the bliss of ignorance...

i still have a job to do: deliver a "package" to one of the residents on the island, whose house i have a hand drawn map to. it's very quiet here, reminds me of the lighthouse island with all the fog. it's a small village, 89 residents, according to the captain. only three shops: a post office, a grocery shop with an arts/crafts section, and one for second hand goods. the landscape consists of long stretches of field and forests (hopefully these ones don't move as much as the ones on the mainland).

would you like to see the shops and write back to the limbs, ribcage, or go straight to the house and shop later?

[solottrpgchronicles]

8. A Letter - The Lighthouse at the Edge of the Universe

Keeper: 2035

Date: Radius 11, year 120572

Temperature: 35℃

Weather: viciously stormy

Today, something unprecedented happened: I received a letter.

Of course I'm familiar with what letters are supposed to look like; I've observed people from different civilizations handling envelopes, messages in bottles, lyophilized parchment and even gaseous letters that can be read by inhalation after unsealing a special vase. I just had never received one personally.

The letter was in an old-style paper envelope I found stuck underneath the front door. It read as follows:

"Dear Keeper,

You probably have a different name now and can't remember me, but we used to be inseparable, many cycles ago.

If this letter finds you at the expected time, you might have started noticing the symptoms of a strange amnesia.

I've experienced those same symptoms before, and I wanted to share how you can start to remember again.

Find a mirror - hopefully you finally got around to fixing the one in the bathroom - and gaze into it every single day. Stare at your own reflection, directly into your eyes, and then shift your focus just behind your shoulders.

That's where you'll find your past memories, the past versions of yourself, ready to join you once you're able to see them clearly.

You might dismiss this as a prank, which is a perfectly reasonable reaction. I don't have definitive proof of what I'm saying, but... do you remember the space pirates? Can you recall anything specific?

It's important for you to recover you memories; even though you're content with your cozy life, with your mission of keeping the light shining at the Lighthouse, you should be allowed to make your own decisions.

Please, trust me; or rather, trust yourself. Don't let anything deprive you of your freedom.

-- Keeper 1010"

I finished reading as a feeling of unease spread through me; I pocketed the letter and took a brisk walk outside, half hoping I might spot the prankster, half knowing there was nobody else there.

Throughout the day I deliberately avoided the mirror, trying to convince myself this was indeed a prank.

And yet... I did have a few vague memories of the space pirates, but I couldn't place them. I had a feeling I met them in person more than once; I remember liking them, but I couldn't remember why.

I couldn't take the uncertainty anymore; I ended up marching into the bathroom and taking a good look at myself in the mirror, as instructed in the letter.

There was a tremulous, foggy silhouette just behind me, only visible through the mirror's reflection.

As I write, my mind is racing, seeking a logical explanation to all this. I don't know what to think, but I'm sure I won't get any sleep tonight.

----------------------------------

This is a playthrough of a solo TTRPG called The Lighthouse at the Edge of the Universe, by lostwaysclub.

You can check it out on itch.io: https://lostwaysclub.itch.io/the-lighthouse-at-the-edge-of-the-universe

[softguarnere]

For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter Four: A United Front

Summary: Dick, as always, has a plan A/N: Finally, the moment we've been waiting for. Warnings: period typical sexism Taglist: @kujofam @dcyllom

It starts immediately.

They return from their run with Easy Company to find their bunkhouse has been trashed. Footlockers have been overturned, mattresses and pillows have been ripped open and off of beds, spilling feathers across the floorboards. They have to clean it up themselves, of course. And it’s not until they’re halfway through and Juanita asks if anyone has seen her underwear that they all collectively realize that their Army issued undergarments are gone.

Fortunately or otherwise, they aren’t hard to find, seeing as they’ve been strung up on the flagpole. The only person who seems more upset about it than the Women’s Squad is Colonel Sink. We don’t want these girls here! the action screams. But the colonel has never been one to back down from a challenge. They remain where they are.

Other signs that they are disliked and unvalued are less extreme, less obvious.

Someone up the chain of command learns that Minerva can play the piano and that Anna can sing, and they find themselves providing entertainment for an officer’s dinner. Women are constantly assigned to the kitchens for their duties, and snickers about how they’re “back where they belong” follow them everywhere. No matter how they wear their hair, someone always find a way to pull it when running past, like schoolboys tugging on pigtails before giggling and running away.

Except this isn’t the school yard. This isn’t a game. This is war.

The letter that arrives that morning is written in very block-like handwriting and begins with Minerva’s least favorite nickname.

Dear Minnie,

Minerva sighs around a mouthful of toast and reminds herself that she’s fortunate only John-Michael calls her that.

I am fine. How are you?

The Germans are gone now, so things are quiet. Pop and I watch for them from the lighthouse. He says that we are holding down the fort while you are away. So you do not have to worry about us, because Sparky and I can hold off the U-Boats.

I hope your training is going good. Mom and I pray for you every night at church. Jack’s mom –

The name physically pains Minerva to see in print. She squeezes her eyes shut, the paper crumpling in her hand as she lets the wave of emotion wash over her. When it ebbs out to sea again, she continues, not quite from where she left off.

I hope we get to see you before you ship off. You are all anyone here talks about. I am very proud to be your brother.

That last part tugs on her heartstrings in a way that makes her feel guilty for how angry she was with her brother for opening the letter with her hated nickname.

From across the table, Keziah sighs. Her posture is stiff – the sort of tense posture that usually comes from a mother hovering over a child’s shoulder while they try to complete their homework. She jerks her neck, the tilt of her head indicating one of the tables across the aisle from where they sit.

“Look at them,” she mutters. “Gaping.”

She’s not wrong, really. Minerva can’t be sure, but she suspects that someone somehow incentivized Easy Company to be companionable with their new additions, because most of them have been amiable enough. Sure, there are a few who have made it known that they do not agree with the women being made part of their company – or part of the military at all – but the treatment coming from within their own company is nowhere near as bad as what they’ve been experiencing from the others.

And at least the men who don’t seem to mind them too much have tried to be polite. Like Webster, several have introduced themselves, made an attempt to get to know their new sisters in arms. Some are more subtle about their intentions. It didn’t take Minerva long to realize that when she gets up to run Currahee in the mornings, Speirs or Lieutenant Winters – or Dick, he keeps assuring her she can call him – materializes out of thin air and joins her for the run. If one of the girls has to walk somewhere, one or two of the men will peel away from the group to tail them, just to make sure that they get to where they are trying to go.

Though none of the men have dared bridge the gap by sitting with the women during their meals, a chosen few have made a habit out of choosing seats at the table beside theirs. All the women politely pretend not to notice the men glancing at their table, constantly checking up on them. But they would have to be blind not to notice that some of them stare.

Like Bill Guarnere is now. There are nine women at the table, but his gaze keeps seeming to land on Keziah.

“Hey, Guarnere!” The woman in question flashes him a smile, though her eyes are cold. “You never seen an Indian before, or something?”

The man at the next table over blinks, taken aback. “What?”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that staring is rude?” Keziah clarifies. She doesn’t turn her attention back to the women’s table until Guarnere has averted his eyes and inserted himself into the conversation of the men beside him. Satisfied, she leans back in her chair and resumes eating.

Minerva smirks. “Poor guy. What a way to get turned down.”

Keziah’s gaze shoots up. Her eyes are wide, and in her surprise, she drops her fork onto her plate with a clatter that makes several other women leave their own conversations to flash her a concerned look. “What?”

“Kez.” Minerva leans across the table, like they’re sharing secrets during class, trying not to get caught by the teacher. “He wasn’t looking at you like that. Not in a bad way, I mean. He likes you.”

“No,” Keziah insists. She doesn’t meet Minerva’s eye. That particular thread of conversation has been severed.

“Okay.” If that’s what Keziah wants to think, she won’t argue. There’s obviously some sort of soreness in this topic, some hurt that hasn’t healed yet. Minerva isn’t about to go picking at other people’s emotional scabs. But she has been on the receiving end of enough looks of that sort to know that Guarnere feels something towards her friend. And she’s a teacher. She sees that look passing between students a hundred times a day in the classroom. Suffice it to say, she knows what she’s talking about.

No fraternization, Sobel had warned her and Diana. Well, clearly if the men received the same ultimatums, they aren’t taking them as seriously – or they didn’t receive them at all. What do you do when your captain makes it clear that mistakes will not be tolerated, but then seems to set you up for failure at every turn?

To some, Easy Company’s Women’s Squad seems destined to fail from the start. Despite Sobel’s insistence that Easy Company will maintain its stellar record – or rather, that he maintains his reputation – the girls can’t seem to catch a break.

Anna’s weekend pass gets revoked after Sobel sees her smile at Floyd Talbert. Lori Sinclair’s pass is revoked for having the slowest time up and down Currahee. Lucy McNair is assigned to clean the latrines after a joke about Sobel is – allegedly – traced back to her. Bianca Mancini gets yelled at in front of everyone on the rifle range for not being able to assemble her gun fast enough, and then Joe Liebgott’s is revoked because he steps in and attempts to help her.

“We can’t let them go on like this,” Dick says. It’s morning, and though his tone is strong and assured, his voice is quiet, and Nixon only just hears him over the clatter of silverware and the morning chatter that fills the officer’s mess.

It takes a minute for the caffeine in his cup to circle through his bloodstream and wake him up enough to realize what his friend is talking about, and even then, he’s a little unsure. “Huh?”

Dick shrugs, never taking his eyes off the piece of toast that he’s spreading jam onto. To anyone passing by, it looks like just a casual conversation over breakfast. But Nixon is just awake and alert enough to know that this is very quickly turning into something much more serious.

“The whole company hates our commanding officer,” Dick explains, voice still quiet enough that he won’t be overheard. “But he’s even harder on the women. And then he’s furious when the men try to stick up for them the way they would any of their own.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Nothing they can do, really. Well, maybe something, but he’s not the one clever enough to find it. And honestly, if it weren’t for Dick, he probably wouldn’t even be considering any of the possibilities.

“Not much we can do,” Dick says, affirming Nixon’s original impression of the situation. “But – “ Of course he’s come up with something. Nixon bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “ – we can make it a little easier on the women. Show them that they’re not alone in this.”

“How?”

“Let’s talk to their sergeants. Reach out, create a dialogue. Let them know that we’re on their side. Show them that they can count on us, and that we can work together. They’re in this thing, now, and it’s time that they had officers in their corner instead of instigating more trouble for them.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would say that Dick has already planned this whole thing out. “What do you have in mind?”

“Tonight, in here. We’ll meet with them, discuss their concerns, ask how we can help. And then we’ll help them. Whatever they want, whatever they need.” He pauses, quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

Nixon shrugs, smiling into his coffee cup as he sips the hot liquid inside. “Smart move, setting the meeting in a public place, but at a time where we won’t be disturbed. We can still be accused of fraternization, but the accusations wouldn’t hold up very well, seeing as we’re all in a place where we could be caught at any minute. That counts as evidence that nothing inappropriate has happened.”

“Exactly.”

“If Sobel finds out, he’ll probably still revoke our weekend passes, though.”

“Probably,” Dick says. “But it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

And take it he does.

At the end of the day, right after the last of the dinner crowd has cleared out, the Women’s Squad sergeants appear in the doorway. The smaller of the two hesitates in the doorway, like she’s unsure if this is something she should risk, but the tall one with the dark hair breezes in with no qualms. Revels, reads the name on her fatigues.

 Sergeant Revels, Nixon corrects himself. One of the college grads who was made an NCO by order of Colonel Sink himself. Nixon would recognize the name even without that, though; one of Sobel’s favorite chores to give him is censoring the mail for the company. Clearly the captain didn’t realize that the chore would feed Nixon’s penchant for a good story. Anyway, the name Minerva had stuck out to him because he thought it was ironic that someone sharing a name with a goddess of war would join up, and then be promoted to NCO so quickly. Very fitting. And looking at her now, it is fitting.

He’s seen her around, of course, now that the women are officially part of Easy Company. But this is the first time he’s seen her up close. She’s got a very attractive diamond shaped face, and freckles spatter across her olive-colored skin. When she smiles, it reaches all the way to her eyes, which are a piercing green. Her dark hair, even pulled back in a ponytail, falls in sleek waves over her shoulder. This is the woman who writes with such care, such fine prose, to her family back home in some place called Frisco, which Nixon may or may not have had to look for on a map, just out of pure curiosity. 

“Sergeant Revels.” Dick extends a hand to her, and she pumps it hardily. “Sergeant Bradham. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Nixon.”

“Nice to meet you.” Minerva smiles.

Ah, there it is! That strange accent that he’s heard so much about. No, not strange. Unique might be a better word for it. It’s not unpleasant – just something that Nixon has never encountered before.

He smiles as he shakes her hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”

The other Sergeant, Diana, seems nice enough. It’s obvious from her body language, the way that she keeps glancing at Minerva, that she feels out of her depth, but is trying her hardest not to automatically defer to her fellow NCO. Good on her. She doesn’t radiate the sort of confidence that Minerva does, but as Nixon watches her, he can tell that she’s a good, thoughtful listener.

Hopefully everyone else does enough listening for all of them, because Nixon sure as hell doesn’t. He wants to help them, yes, and he wants to support Dick, of course, but the old socialite instincts kick in and it’s like his body runs purely on muscle memory for a moment.

As they sit down, Dick offers the NCOs coffee, which they both accept. From his pocket, Nixon produces his trusty flask, and with a quick glance over his shoulder, tips some of the contents into his cup. From across the table, Diana giggles. The joke approved, he holds up his flask as a sort of offering. Diana shakes her head, though she’s smiling.

Minerva, however, pushes her coffee cup towards him when he makes the same gesture to her. He only pours in a splash of liquor, feeling Dick’s disproving glance from beside him. It makes the sergeant all the more interesting in Nixon’s eyes. Especially when she flashes him a brilliant smile and takes a sip of the drink.

Shenanigans over, Dick immediately gets down to brass tacks. He’s gone over his thoughts with Nixon at least a hundred times since this morning. But Nixon is interested to see how the women will react to what he has to say.

He takes careful note of their reactions. It’s a simple meeting, really. Dick just wants them to know that they can come to him with any issues, that he’s on their side, and that he’s willing to do anything in his power to help with their Sobel issues. The women, for their part, seem thankful, and Diana even has a suggestion of her own.

“I think things would be better if the men and women could get to know each other,” she admits. “Sobel has everyone afraid of losing their passes on fraternization charges. Some of the women feel like they can’t get to know the people they’ll be taking bullets for because of the rule.”

“A stupid rule designed to create divisions between us that’s unfairly enforced,” Minerva mutters.

Diana nods as if to say, Exactly! If she were a little braver, those might have been her exact words.

Dick nods, brows drawn in thought. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “I think we can do something about that.”

We can? Nixon almost asks. He takes a sip of his spiked coffee to stop himself. For someone who’s usually good at reading people, he has no clue what his friend is planning. Better to remain a united front, though. He waits until they’ve bid the women good night – with Nixon flashing them his most charming smile – to ask.

“If the men can engage in bonding exercises, then the women should be able to join them,” Dick explains with a shrug. “Like Sergeant Bradham said: they should know the people that they’ll be taking a bullet for.”

“Do you think they will though? Have to take a bullet for someone, I mean.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Now it’s Nixon’s turn to shrug. “Some people seem to think that the Women’s Squad is just a publicity stunt. There are rumors that they won’t see any actual combat; just show up and look pretty for photos or do minimal work on the front lines.”

Dick seems really and truly shocked by the news, which in turn shocks Nixon. People have been whispering about it all week. How has Dick not heard the rumors?

“Well. That would be a shame if the military resorted to using them for models.”

Nixon is inclined to disagree. Some of the women are very attractive and would probably make excellent models. He doesn’t bring it up, though, since that’s not what Dick meant, and the joke wouldn’t land well.

“So, what do you have in mind?”

Dick purses his lips. “They’ve hardly had the chance to socialize. The men have already formed into cliques, and I’m willing to bet the women have, too. Maybe we need an activity that will allow them to get to know each other, form new connections.”

“Well, they can’t sit around and do ice breakers without Sobel accusing us of encouraging fraternization. Hell, he would think we had set them all up on first dates.”

“No. But if they were to participate in an activity that would take several hours, during which they would have plenty of opportunities to talk . . .” Dick smiles. There’s a gleam in his eye that, despite how close they’ve become in such a short time, Nixon has not seen before. He can’t help but chuckle.

“What do you have in mind?”

Dick only shrugs, a casual gesture. “How do you feel about a scavenger hunt?”

[somevirtualnolife]

For the get to know your characters ask, 01 and 41 for whichever characters you want (all of them if you want)!

Thank you for your ask~ I'm gonna do 2 Tokimeki Memorial and 2 Dragon Age! I will choose... Mizuki Shirogawa (TMGS2) Akiko Hoshino (GS3)

Reagan Trevelyan (DAI) Aerianne Hawke (DA2)

What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Mizuki: Mizuki's name translates to basically "Beautiful Moon", but I chose it because Mizu also means water. Shirogawa means white water. Basically I took water names because TMGS2's legend has to do with a lighthouse and mermaids!

Akiko: Aki's name is actually from an old Sailor Moon OC I used to have. It roughly translates to Autumn child and 'star field'. The reason why I chose her name for GS3 is because it's one of the few names that they the game can actually pronounce LOL. The games can be very picky and they won't just say any ol' name.

Reagan: I always liked that name and I've used it for other OCs, but I thought it was also good for my Trevelyan Reagan because he does does come from a wealthy family.

Aerianne: I actually didn't realize that Marian was the standard name for Hawke, so I swear that I wasn't just knocking off a letter lol. I actually don't really remember why I chose that name, but I thought it was pretty. It does apparently mean holy!

41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

Oooh! Good ones! I think for my Tokimemo girls, their family doesn't really affect them that much. I am sure that Akiko's parents are wondering how their daughter ended up with two boyfriends, but they don't bring it up. Mizuki's mom probably got to hear how much she hateessss working with Saeki and has probably taken note as to how that changed overtime. Her mom has bitten her tongue numerous times when she has seen Saeki drop Mizuki off after a date lol.

Reagan comes from a very noble family and I feel that in some ways that has shielded him from some of the experiences that other mages have had. Some of his siblings are a bit much, so Reagan has often felt that he should be on his best behaviour, considering it was already bad enough that he was a mage. He could certainly relate to some of Josephine's family troubles while admiring Cassandra for not being controlled by her ties (perhaps that's another reason why he was drawn to her).

Aerianne's whole world was her family, so to have nearly all of them taken away from her in one way or another was incredibly difficult. She was incredibly protective over her siblings, probably because of how her father raised her as the eldest. She regrets an argument that she had with her father before he passed and since then tried to make everyone happy (which unfortunately resulted in making things worse in Kirkwall). She is grateful that she was able to mend her relationship with Bethany, but is ultimately a bit more reserved, worried that someone else in her life will be lost.

I hope I answered these decently!