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followerofmercy · 5 months ago

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Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

#daily life with mercy #advice #autism #social skills

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takes1 · 4 months ago

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i would literally sell my soul for more asahi smut(or literally anything tbh)

- (your stuff is actually so good bro. keep it up💯💯)

p.1 asahi getting rough with petite!reader

thank you!!! 😭❤️man, asahi is the most perfect character for some of my fav tropes ughh he's such a sweetie

warnings. nsfw themes. recreational use of alcohol. minors DNI

details. nsfw / fem!reader / manager!reader / short!reader / rough play! fetish / mutual size kink / mutual crushing / playfighting / version of spin the bottle / suggestive wrestling / asahi is a gentleman / inappropriate hard-ons / sitting on asahi's shoulders / houseparty / tipsy!asahi / lightweight!suga / 2.4k words / two-parter, reply to be tagged for next nsfw part

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part two here.

"Aawww-!" Was a chorus of giggly groans throughout the little circle of Karasuno players. Your bottle landed on what was undeniably Asahi.

It filled Daichi's living room, which had been completely rearranged to make room for a friendly fight circle. As their more reserved manager, you decided that you shouldn't partake in a bottle-spinning, play-fighting, testosterone-pumping, sweaty activity at the start of the night.

"That's not a fair fight!"

After a few drinks and watching multiple rounds, you began to adopt an unfounded confidence that you'd be able to win one of these silly wrestling matches.

The name of the game was to keep a volleyball in your arms at the end of a three-minute timer. The trick, for most, was to take on their opponent, tire them out, and turtle over the ball in the last 10 seconds.

It seemed doable from your comfy spot on the couch, when you watched Tanaka prevail over Ennoshita, or the energetic match between Hinata and Nishinoya. When you volunteered to go, you were sure you could take anyone. But Asahi? He was arguably the most formidable opponent.

"Noo, let her fight Yamaguchi!" Suga was beet-red from his one drink, clinging to Daichi at the reveal that your match was against tonight's three-time Champ.

"Yamaguchiii!" He called, giggling, but you shook your head.

You didn't want to fight somebody that wasn't a challenge. If Asahi was #1, then Yamaguchi was #12. Bottom of the bracket.

Asahi glanced around the circle of guys telling him not to, already unsure if he should accept this turn, and to let you try fighting somebody your size, first.

"Hey, hey, now-!" Daichi tried to quiet the uproar and laughter, grinning, "Let her -hhaha- let her decide!"

Now that everyone had their own opinions, somewhat sharing the sentiment that if you fought, you'd suffer a terrible loss, your delusion grew a bit out of proportion.

You stood and passed your drink to Yachi. She gasped and grabbed your shirt as if you were a sacrifice. The room fell quieter, except for the failed, muffled laughter against elbows and hands.

"I'll take him!" You asserted, "And I'll win."

Cheers, applause, noise of all kinds preceded the start of some bets. Asahi grew warm at all the attention, and the pushing, and the teasing. If he lost, nobody would ever let him hear the end of it.

"You just gonna let her talk to you like that, bro?!" Nishinoya called.

He was snickering at his best friend's face, money already on you winning. All Asahi had to do was stand up for the guys to start 'Ooooh'ing, and for you to feel much, much smaller.

You were safe and across the circle, the game hadn't started yet, but as he pulled his hair up into a bun, you started sweating. He won his match with Kageyama by real wrestling, the one with Suga was more of just tiring his opponent out, and the one with Narita was won by brute-forcing the ball out of his grip.

Those weighty arms naturally flexed, moving to grab the elastic from between his teeth to tie it up. After enough jabs from Suga and Daichi, he realized he needed to verbally respond to your challenge.

Lightly buzzed, and not as shy about the reality of the fight, "I'm not goin' easy on you just 'cause you're tiny."

Now you had to beat him. You felt the fury of generations, notably Nishinoya, who was clambering over other guys to join your corner at the clear rage-bait.

"You better beat his ass for that!" He screamed over the delighted whoops and cheers.

Daichi resumed his ref-spot, ball in hand, as you both made it to the center of the circle.

You came up to his chest. He cocked his head down at you, a subtle endearment to his eyes, like he was admiring a small animal-- it was underestimation, an intimidation tactic for sure.

"Good," You muttered, a narrowed gaze at your opponent.

Daichi placed the ball on the floor between you and backed up before starting your time.

Asahi kicked it to the edge of the circle, disinterested in a game of keep-away. It wasn't advantageous to grab now, so you engaged him.

After watching enough of his matches, you knew he went low, first, so you stayed much, much lower.

It hardly served you. Any offensive move to take him just wasn't forceful enough, and you found yourself soon trapped once he got a hold of you.

And once he did, it felt like you would never be able to escape. The way he knew how to move you around was incredible- forget about his power, you couldn't even defend against his technique.

It also didn't take a lot of guessing to know what was compromising, and what wasn't- the team was vocal about what you needed to do, which prevailed mostly as different versions of 'Run away.'

40 seconds in, he readjusted his grip to something twisted, unnatural, and you were about three steps behind when he completed the move and pulled you up.

His arms were around your waist, your legs in the air, as he came up to a kneel.

"Ah!" You squealed, world turned upside-down.

You locked your legs around his shoulders, squeezing hard, but it didn't help you as he stood up onto his feet.

"Oh- shit-!!"

"Yoooo!"

"Asahi, take it easy!!"

Your fingertips couldn't make it to the floor- you weren't sure that you wouldn't hit your head, even if they did. His body was so hot against your back, his sheer strength such a shock, it stole your senses for a moment.

"Uh! Ref! Ref! That can't be legal!" Yachi pointed.

"Technically," Daichi took a moment to puff his collar with air, scanning the 'legality' of it, "Uh- it's... allowed."

You had never been so grateful to be wearing a bra. Your shirt didn't come all the way up, but you still took a second to tuck it before gripping your way to a curl-up.

At the top, you grabbed the back of his neck. It earned a strong grimace.

It served him right, since he was making a mockery out of you.

"Mmmh- sorry," Asahi spared you an apologetic look, even letting you finish tucking in your shirt before moving to a different position.

It was all in all, a lot of time, sitting up on his shoulders. It earned many, many whistles and half-vulgar expressions that Daichi had to quiet down.

"You good?" He cracked himself up a little with the question, unable to look anywhere but between your legs. You could feel his warm panting against you and tried not to think about it.

"Mhm."

It was curt, beyond embarrassment at this point. You wanted a fighting chance to touch the ball. If he kept you up here, you wouldn't be able to try.

If you had been one of the guys, he might've been a little less gentle letting you onto the floor. Still, he kept you down and wasted no time to pull himself free from your thighs, then pin you on your back.

He sat on your hips. It seemed so lame, and simple, but you couldn't lift yourself out from under him. You were getting weaker just by trying.

It was worse when he looked you in the eye, a little too sweet, as if he wasn't even thinking about the match.

The only thing that saved you was the time running out. You had just one minute left and still hadn't touched the ball.

"Asahi, get the damn ball!" Suga hollered, now on his second drink.

He sat back a little, glancing around for it- it was enough weight displacement to yank a leg out. He was still deciding between keeping you down and grabbing the ball. You were able to take advantage of the indecision and fly towards it, just before him.

And you were exhausted, hugging it close to your chest, huffing with a kind of tired you hadn't quite known before.

Spite was the only thing you ran on, at this point. Your muscles were screaming with fatigue, your breath shallow and rapid, making your forearms a little slick from condensation.

Eyes screwed shut, you couldn't help but squeak at the sound of him upon you- he was so scary, you finally understood how other teams could get intimidated by the way he played in matches.

"30 seconds!! (Y/n)!" Nishinoya bellowed, "Just 30 seconds!! Hold it!!"

His big fingers were digging, slowly but surely prying like steel under your arms. Every time he spared a moment to readjust, you squeezed harder and impeded his progress, so it forced a different approach.

A forearm barred against the front of your hips, stalling your breath for a moment- once he had a grip around you, he completed the hold and dropped his shoulder to the floor.

And in one, big groan against your ear, he curled, flipping you on top of him.

"Noooo-!!" Nishinoya and Yachi watched along in horror.

You braced, a simple cry all you could make, knowing that you were done for. You lay face up- your back against his chest, the only thing keeping the ball in your possession was a weak arm hold.

Asahi didn't instantly go for it, though.

He crunched his legs up in lock, prying yours down with shameful ease. It must've been some form of showmanship, to truly have you trapped.

The labored rise and fall of his chest moved your whole upper body, yet another enticing reminder that he eclipsed you in size. You could've sworn he was laughing.

Before he could take the thing out of your hands, you chucked it all the way across the circle.

"Oooooh!!"

"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"

You both scrambled away from each other to grab the ball. For once, you had a head start and started pulling yourself towards it.

A grip on your ankle, just before you could close the distance, dragged you backwards in a comical slide.

"Aah-h-!!" You yelped again, all your progress lost, all your hope fading as he climbed over you.

But he couldn't quite reach the ball. He was weighing you down to keep you from moving.

Now faced with the reality you wouldn't win, you refocused all your effort on keeping him away. You quickly got into more of a sprawl to keep his hips further back while he was distracted, nails digging into his big, outstretched forearm with a strangled, but determined groan.

He quickly silenced you by bringing that arm back, crushing it underneath your combined bodies in an unintentional choke.

The fingers on his other hand were dancing against the ball. You were able to twist, just barely, to snake your hand to his bicep and force a subtle bend at the elbow.

"Time!"

It was such a cathartic experience. For about 3 seconds. As long as it took for you to both stop bracing.

After that, your heart was pounding for a very different purpose. Though you had been able to shove your dirty thoughts to the side in the name of sportsmanship, the position you finished in was pornographic and you quickly felt a throbbing between your thighs.

"Ahhh-- fuck-!" He groaned, heavy and burning hot against your neck, "You're- Mm, you were good."

You winced at the sensation and the tired, grumbly bass in his voice.

Your legs had the outside disadvantage, knees spread wide in another dismal effort to remain low. His hips were crammed against the back of yours, allowing you to feel the indisputable bulge pressed tight against your cunt.

What made it worse was that you couldn't move until he took his weight off, and he was so tired that it took him longer than you to catch his breath.

His forearm slid off of your neck and he finally muscled himself up. It left you a bit weak, wobbly, sort of needy for that weight on top of you again.

What may have felt like a few million years was, in reality, only a few more seconds. Nobody noticed, or they at least weren't pointing it out, in favor of teasing him for not finishing the match.

"A tie, dude?!"

"Rematch! Rematch!"

"I know you're not tired!"

Since you were the underdog, you were spared of such disparaging comments. You had, after all, gotten the closest to winning against him. A tie was satisfying in its own right.

"--if he wasn't so damn distracted-,"

Suga's disappointed mutter to Daichi caught your attention as you took your place back on the couch next to them. You leaned forward and stole his attention right away.

"Not that I wasn't rooting for you!" He clarified. "It's just that--,"

Daichi cleared his throat, very loudly, twice, with a wide stare towards his friend. That was not his secret to tell.

"Right... right."

There was no time, no room to ask another question, because Asahi carefully walked the perimeter of the circle to get to Daichi. He squatted in front of him. They began talking in covered whispers. They exchanged a few back-and-forth's.

It ended in Daichi dapping him up, a big grin on his face. He patted his back, hard but friendly, and made some room so he could exit the makeshift perimeter.

You figured that was the end of it, and started to collect yourself as he hopped over the back of the couch. Kageyama was taking on Tsukishima in a heated, technically complicated match. Now, you had some sympathy because you were still unable to shake the indescribable shock of getting pinned.

It felt eerily similar to the jolt you got from his big, warm hand back on your shoulder.

When you turned to look at him, he was a bit flushed. So modest, considering how rough he had just been with you.

"You wanna come help me with somethin'?"

"Sure!" You glanced around his kind, but gruff features and couldn't figure him out.

He let you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you also climbed over the back of the couch. It was sweet, and it would've been scarier without his help.

"What's up?" You spared a look back to Daichi and Suga, who were grabbing and shoving each other in excitement, and tried to lighten him up a little with a playful shove on the stairs, "You want a rematch?"

It didn't move him at all. Sharing a laugh, he joked, "Uhh, well- kind of."

☆VIP☆

@integers @yuchacco

taglist:

none! reply to be tagged for part two!

my masterlist. more asahi

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nathanbatemanfucker · 29 days ago

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Fault Lines Ch. 2

request: wanted to know if you could write something where the reader is a ex-winter solider (just like bucky, but maybe she doesn't lose her arm) and how she struggles to accept Joaquin. An overall angst to fluff.

pairing: joaquin torres x ex-super soldier!f!reader

contents: canon typical violence, illusions to abuse and torture, ptsd and other mental illness, enemies to lovers, angst

wc: 1,383

an: this series is based off of this request here! this is definitely a slow burn/fluff if you squint type beat so just bear with me <3

fault lines masterlist

The safe house is quiet, save for the low hum of the overhead light and the occasional rustle of movement from Joaquin as he leans against the wall opposite of you. He knows better than to box you in—that’d only make you more restless than you already are.

Post-meal and shower, you sit on his cot, arms crossed, gaze fixed somewhere past him like you’re already planning your exit. The space smells of antiseptic and metal despite the warm paint and comforting art. Someone had tried to make this as home-y as they could and failed.

He doesn’t doubt that you are. And you are. You’re on edge, always hypervigilant for the worst. That the two men in front of you that promise to stand on decency and honor are liars just like everyone else you’ve ever encountered.

There’s only one door and a few windows, but you had immediately noticed the door under the rug in the bathroom. Its doable.

Sam’s outside, making calls, searching for loopholes to clean up the mess you’ve already made. That leaves Joaquin with what he does best—talking. But tonight, that skill is failing him.

Something about you is making the words sticky in his throat, unable to flow as usual. He doesn’t know what to say to you to make you understand, to make you change. Though he’s not really sure that’s his goal given what you’ve suffered.

“You look like you wanna be anywhere but here,” he observes, arms mirroring yours.

“What a shocking observation, baby bird,” you mutter, voice steeped in sarcasm.

Joaquin exhales through his nose, tilting his head. “Ok, ouch. But let’s be real—you could’ve run already. Hell, you could’ve fought harder. So why are you still here?”

Your fingers curl in your lap, like the truth will slink into your hands if you don’t force it out; it isn’t something you're ready to touch. You flex them once before stilling. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I trust you,” you say eventually, voice quieter, more measured.

“Fair.” Joaquin watches you, gaze steady. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you unless he has too– he chalks it up to your dangerous capabilities and nothing more. “No one’s asking you to, querida. But you want something. You can tell me what that is, I won’t use it against you.”

Something stirs at his pet name, something you thought was dead and rotted. Its easy to shove it back down in the wake of what you see is a lie. He would use it against you, that’s what everyone does. If he didn’t then Sam would. You know the game.

You let out a breath, eyes meeting his. “You’re after Hydra and so am I. But I don’t trust that you’ll actually do what needs to be done. In fact, I know you won’t.”

Joaquin frowns. He knows what you mean but asks anyway, “And what’s that?”

“You tell me,” you challenge. “You really think you’re gonna dismantle them by playing by the rules? By arresting a few low-level pricks and calling it a day? Hydra isn’t just an organization—it’s a disease. One that’s smart enough to outmaneuver every cure. You cut off a limb, and another grows back.” Your voice lowers, darkens. “I go for the heart.”

Joaquin studies you. The shadowy certainty in your tone. The way your hands have curled into fists, nails pinching into your skin before you even realize it. He should be alarmed, maybe even afraid of you and what you can do with those hands. But mostly? He just feels tired for you and all the baggage you have to carry. He wishes there were more he could do more for you, but he knows the oath he’s taken. His values, his morals—they won’t be compromised.

“I get it,” he says, voice softer now. “You think we’re a waste of time. That we’re too soft.”

“You are,” you say, like it’s obvious and with no remorse. “Your Captain? He’s trying to lead a world that doesn’t even know what to do with itself. One that hardly wants him. He’s gotta play politics. Me? I don’t have to play anything. I owe nothing to no one but myself.”

Joaquin shakes his head. “That’s not a life. That’s a war you never get to leave. That darkness won’t let you go.”

Your jaw tightens, and you look away. You don’t deny it.

For the first time since bringing you in, Joaquin feels like he has something solid to work with. You know that your past is controlling you but you won’t let it go. With their help, you could finally be free. He lets you sit with his words, grabbing a water from the mini-fridge before settling across from you on Sam’s bunk.

Silently, he offers it. Begrudgingly, you take it, careful not to touch him.

“Look, I know what it’s like to be made into something you didn’t ask for,” he says. “To be trained to survive, not to live. And I know that once you start thinking like that, it’s almost impossible to stop.”

Your fingers tighten around the bottle, the plastic nearly giving out under the pressure. The sound brings you back to the present and you loosen your grip letting the bottle fall to the ground. Joaquin says nothing, letting you be. When your eyes meet again, he can see that you recognize that. That you believe him when he says that he understands. You let it fade away as quickly as it appeared.

Joaquin presses forward anyway. “You don’t trust us? Fine. But what if we can help? What if we can end this without you burning yourself out trying to do it alone?”

You shake your head. “God, baby bird, you don’t fucking get it.”

“Then make me fucking get it,” Joaquin challenges, matching your energy. He hopes that in doing so you'll level with him.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The space between you is heavy with something unspoken, pressing down on your chest. Your breath is too sharp, and his is too shallow, like being stuck in each other's gaze has sucked all the air out of the room before either of you could even think. You exhale sharply, pulling back, re-centering yourself just as another presence fills the doorway.

"There's a name," you mutter, almost reluctant. "One of the last remaining heads of Hydra. He’s been running a black ops division off-grid. And if you think what was done to your precious boy was bad, what they’re doing is worse."

Joaquin barely has time to process before your gaze flicks past him, landing on Sam, now standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

The two men exchange a look. “How do we know you’re not leading us into a trap?” Sam asks.

You scoff. “I’m not like them and you thinking I would walk you into a trap is like them. If you don’t believe me, I can happily do this on my own. And I wouldn’t have either of you slowing me down.”

Sam meets Joaquin’s gaze again; its pleading, laced with the idea of giving you a chance. A long beat of silent communication passes between them.

Sam rolls his eyes, exhaling reluctantly. He knows what its like to be an advocate, the one who’s seeing more than others. He’ll let Joaquin take his chance on you. “You’re lucky he likes you,” he mutters, jerking his chin toward Joaquin before turning back toward the door. “We’re wheels up in an hour. Try not to make me regret this.”

Joaquin looks back at you, and you could swear that you see some warmth in his cheeks. “That makes two of us.” He barely catches it—the slight quirk at the corner of your mouth. It’s smug, not quite a smirk, but it’s something. An attempt at humor. He softens again, seeing the effects of what Hydra put you through.

What had they done to you where you can’t even smile? Laugh? See yourself as more than just their pawn? The thought makes him sad, yes, but it also makes him angry. You deserve better than that.

“Three of us.” You shake your head, pushing to your feet. You’re tired of being cooped up. “Guess we’ll see.”

let me know if you'd like to be on the sfw joaquin torres taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes , @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9, @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath1998, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @moonymeloncholymoney, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967

> ch. 3

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x fem!reader #joaquin torres x f!reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres fic #joaquin torres imagine #falcon x reader #captain america: bnw fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #x reader #arson writes

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writtenbyan-aries · 10 months ago

Note

Maybe a little one shot where Chris hears y/n how she tries to do it herself but can't really manage it and Chris comes to her aid.🤭

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, masterbation, slight sexting, simple pet names (baby, babe, etc.), fingering, unprotected sex, hair pulling, kissing, biting, scratching, general filth

Word Count: 1.5k | unedited

Smut right under the cut. Enjoy.

══════════════════

A frustrated groan leaves your lips as you pull your hand from out under the blanket.

You’ve been trying to get off so you can go to sleep, but nothing seems to work.

Not your fingers, not your favorite vibrator, not even thinking of Chris - who was in the room right next to yours.

You rolled over, letting out a sigh as you close your eyes for the fifth time, praying you’ll just fall asleep. But twenty minutes later, you decide to give it another go.

You parted your legs, eyes still closed as you imagine Chris’ hand sliding down your body in place of your own. You bite down on your lip as your fingers begin to circle your clit.

You let out a quiet moan as the pleasure is.. doable, for now. Keeping your pace, you imagine Chris laying behind you, telling you just how good of a job you’re doing.

Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as the pace of your circles pick up, but the pleasure quickly drops off when your thoughts are invaded by the stress you cannot seem to get away from.

You turn your head, stopping all movements and you let out a loud groan into your pillow. A few seconds later, your phone goes off and you lift your head.

You reach over, pulling your phone over to you, only to have your heart drop when you see a text from Chris.

Are you good?

You roll onto your back, feeling a red heat lying on your cheeks as you hope he didn’t hear you throwing a fit over not being able to orgasm. You tap the screen, chewing on your lip as you hit send.

Debatable, but I’ll be fine.

You watch as the chat bubbles pop up and disappear right before his text comes through.

Thought I heard you yell or something

“Fuck.” You whisper quietly, humming lowly as you debate on what to do. As you’re thinking, another text from Chris comes through.

I know you’re schedule is busy as hell, but if you ever need to talk or anything I’m here for you y/n

You take a deep breath, biting down on your lip as you type out your message.

Throughout the years you’ve been friends with the Sturniolo’s, you and Chris have taken a liking to each other.

There’s tension. Lots of it, too.

I actually could use a helping hand, if you’re up for it at this hour..

Instant reply.

Anything what’s up ma?

You were weak, instantly turned on. You loved it when Chris called you that. It got to be such a normal thing that no one bats an eye when he lets it slip in public.

I mean this in the most respectful way possible

But I really want you to fuck me

You felt excited and nervous all at once. Your heart stars to beat faster as you watch the little bubbles bounce up and down, “Shit. What did I just-“

Chris’ text shuts you up instantly.

You know where I’m at. Let me fuck the stress right out of you.

You were up and out of bed, making your way from your room to right next door. You slowly opened the door, your breath catching in your throat as you see him sitting in his gaming chair.

Grey hood up with his headphones resting overtop. You close the door, making sure to lock it, and when you look up, Chris’ eyes are on you.

“Hey.” You smirk walking over to him. He sets his headphones on the desk and turns towards you, “Hey.”

His hands slide over your waist as you straddle him, “Couldn’t get off on my own.”

He chuckles, “I can help with that.”

He slides his hand up, holding the side of your neck as you lean in, connecting your lips with his, and you needed him that instant.

You sit back, crossing your arms to lift your shirt up in one swoop. Chris ogles your body, shaking his head as he leans forward to kiss down your neck.

He gets up, you still on him, and takes you over to his bed. He tosses you down before he takes his hoodie off, revealing his bare torso.

He smiles slightly as he hovers his body over yours, and you’re quick to wrap your arms and legs around him.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles, “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You moan at his words, gasping as you feel his clothed cock press against your panty covered center, “C-Chris.”

“I know, baby.” He whispers as he sits up, your legs falling to the bed. You shimmy out of your panties and lay back down, eyes never leaving his.

He pushes his sweats down, followed by his boxers and you take a deep breath as you speak your legs. He glances down and back up, leaning into kiss you as his hand makes it way up your inner thigh. He stops at your clit, fingers circling slowly, “Is this what you were doing?”

You gasp, nodding your head, “So much better when you do it.” You lay a hand on his chest, moaning out as he slips two fingers into you, “Way fucking better.”

Chris kisses down your neck and over your collarbones as his fingers slowly work in and out of you.

Your hips buck, needing more as you whine, “Please.”

“What do you want, mama?” Chris kisses your temple, “Tell me what you want.”

Your eyes roll back, closing fully as you moan out.

“Shh, baby. Gotta stay quiet.” His forehead rests against your head as he adds another finger, getting you to gasp out.

You slide your hand to his shoulder, nails digging in as your breathing grows more rapid, “I-I, fuck.. Chris.”

“Cum for me, mama.”

Your back lifts from the bed, teeth sinking into your lower lip as a way to muffle your moans. Your nails drag down his arm, creating red lines as he groans, “That’s it.”

He guides you through your high, leaning in more to kiss you as his fingers pull out. He moves to settle his hips between your thighs and he looks up at you, “You sure?”

“I love you. Of course I do.”

He smiles, trying to contain his giddiness about hearing those words leave your lips, “I-I love you, too.”

You pull him in, both of you swallowing each other’s moans as he slips his cock into you. Your legs lock around his waist and his one hand grips the sheets by your head, “Feels so fucking good, ma.”

His thrusts are slow at first, taking in how you feel wrapped around him for the very first time.

But they quickly grow faster with your pleads for more, “H-Harder.. please.” You gasp out, arching your back as his hand slides up to cup your throat.

His thumb runs along your jaw, moaning lowly as he obliges to your request. His thrusts grow harder, earning whimpers and moans from your lips as your second orgasm builds up.

You slide your hand up into his hair, tugging as you clench around him, “S-so close..” you moan out, “Don’t stop, dontstop.”

He buries his face into your neck, moaning loudly which only helps coarse you further to the edge, “Yesyesyes.”

Your chest presses against his as his hand slides down your body, his arm hooking under your leg to hold it up.

His thrusts become punishing as he is now chasing his own high.

“Doing so good for me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Fuck ma, gonna make me cum.” He moans lowly, thrusts becoming sloppy before he pulls out.

You kiss him deep as you feel his cum spill onto your waist, swallowing his groans.

He rolls off to lay next to you, giving you a quick kiss to your cheek, “Stay right here.” You nod, staring up at the ceiling with a smile, you were happy that you had finally got what you wanted for so long.

“Here, babe.” Chris’s walks over with a towel and wipes off your waist. He glances up at you and you look at him, “What?”

He shrugs, shaking his head, “Nothin’ I just..” he tosses the towel and crawls back into bed, “Just glad that you’re finally here.”

You roll over, laying your head on his chest and he kisses your head, “Took you long enough though.”

You scoff and look up at him with a smirk. He lays his finger under your chin and presses his lips to yours, “I’m joking, baby. Go to sleep.”

“So bossy.” You joke and Chris sighs, “You haven’t seen anything yet, ma.”

——

Okay I may have gagged myself with this one. Let me know whatcha think! I love you all so much! Thank you for reading, and I will see you all in the next! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #Chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #Chris Sturniolo one shot #Chris Sturniolo fanfic

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patscorner · 8 months ago

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CHAPTER ONE: BUY-IN

pairings: paige x oc

contains: pining, angst

word count: 2,575

a/n: okay, one chapter in. let me know what you guys think, my inbox is open. also let me know what you might like to see, the outline isn't set in stone. school has started so it might be a bit before the next chapter, but it's coming. enjoy!

My palms sweat as I dial the familiar number, one I’d memorized by heart. It’d been far too long since I’d called her, and I don’t really have a reason, so the bullshit ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse will just have to do.

=======================

JUNE 2023

“Hello?”

I clear my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that magically appeared. “H-Hey, Azzi, uh-it’s CJ.”

“Who?” My heart dropped to my shoes as my brain scrambled to pick up the pieces of one word.

“I-uh..”

Azzi chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. What’d you need?” I let out a breath as I rub my head.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you, holy shit.” I laugh.

“Apparently, since it’s been, what, like three months since we’ve talked.” I could practically hear the eye roll.

It’s really not fair for me to ignore Azzi because, really, she hadn’t done anything but be my best friend.

Our best friend.

And maybe that our was the problem. Maybe that combination, the unity of the word, and everything behind it was a mistake. Maybe, letting her etch herself into the scrolls of my heart, so much so that the ink bled together. Maybe the missed cue of when mine became hers, and hers became ours, was poor oversight.

Maybe letting Azzi become collateral damage was where me and her went wrong.

I laugh it off, ignoring the pang it sends to my chest.

“Yeah, well, I have to mentally prepare myself to lose brain cells. Can’t let it fuck up my game.” I respond, earning a laugh from the brown-haired girl. There’s nothing like the nostalgia a sound can bring you. The memories and feelings, all hidden behind a single noise.

After she gathers herself, she sighs. “So what’s up?”

And suddenly, I remember why I’d called.

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I kinda wanted to talk to you about, before you hear it somewhere else..” I say, picking at my earlobe nervously.

“Ooookay… Is everything okay..?” her voice relaying softer through the phone.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing bad. Or, at least, I don’t think..” I fall silent for a moment. This couldn’t be as bad as I’m making it seem, right? Right?

“Either way, I’d just rather talk about it in person.”

Azzi hums. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Where do you want to meet?” I consider my options. I’m only in Minnesota to visit my family for about a week, and it’d take another day to get to Virginia… I would be back in time to move into my dorm. It’s inconvenient but doable.

“I could drive up to you in like a week, I’ll just meet you at your house.” I mutter thoughtfully.

“Wait, are you in Texas or Minnesota?”

“I’m about an hour out from Minny.” I answer, slightly confused.

“Oh, I’m here with Paige and the boys. We’re actually headed to the fair soon. You could meet up with us if you wanted.”

“Shit…uh, I didn’t think about them...” I mumble.

That’s a lie. Truthfully, every time I think of home, memories of the blonde flood my mind instantly. But then I’m reminded of what she’d done. How she ripped herself out of my chest like velcro, instead of carefully detangling herself, ridding herself off all strings attached. All for someone else.

For someone who used to be mine.

“Hello..? You still there?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Uh, th-yeah, that’s fine.” I sigh, quickly trying to recover.

Azzi sighs through the phone. “Look, I still don’t know what happened between you two, so if you don’t want to come-” she amends.

“No! No, okay, sorry. I- just gotta change my clothes…” I say, biting my lip as I lie through my teeth. “I’ll just meet you guys there?”

I could practically hear Azzi smile. “That sounds good, just call me when you get there.”

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up. I groan as I throw my head back.

I’m always up to a challenge, but the thought of going and having to function around her, after all she’s said and done; after she’s ruined us before there even was an us, that might be more difficult than I’d thought.

It’s not like I have a choice, though. I’m gonna have to learn how to be around her every day, especially when the season starts.

_________

“Drew, bro, if you spray me with that shit one more time, I swear to god, I will beat your ass.” I glared at him as he hid behind Jose, who put his hands up in surrender. I should not have bought him that water gun.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Azzi, who kept looking around, then back at her phone, repeating the process. I kicked her in her shin. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?” Azzi complains, rubbing her leg. “Who are you looking for?” I say, glancing around.

She looks back down at her phone. “Nobody. Just people watching.” I scoff. “Bullshit, are we being spied on, or what?” She shakes her head, looking up around once more. “Okay, bro, what’s going on? Who’s ass do I have to beat?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t beat Ohio, let alone anyone else.”

I sit back in shock, putting my hand on my heart as I feign offense. “Okay, their defense was so unexpected. You can’t even put that on me.” She shrugged, looking back at her phone and standing up. “Where-”

“Bathroom.” she mutters. I watch as she practically sprints away. If only she did that shit in practice. I shake my head.

I open my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through instagram, ignoring the thousands of times I’ve been tagged in pictures that I’d taken with fans today. Suddenly, I freeze.

It’s a post by the official UConn women’s basketball team. It’s a picture of CJ in her Texas jersey, the number 43 on the front. Her hair is in her signature bun, hair slicked back carefully, as she drives towards the basket. The caption reads “Welcome CJ West!”

What the fuck?

I’m in such a state of shock that when Azzi comes back, I don’t notice the figure next to her. I glance up at her, then back at my phone. “Yo, Azzi, have you seen this?” I look up at her again, and this time, I let my eyes flick to the person next to her.

CJ.

Forgetting what I’d just seen, my jaw drops as I take her in. She’s just as beautiful, if not more, as she was the last time I’d seen her. She’s wearing a basic casual outfit; a plain white crop top, paired with blue jeans, and gold jewelry that always makes her hazel eyes seem brighter. Or maybe that’s just how they look naturally.

“Oh, shit.” I whisper, clearly in awe. She rolls her eyes.

Fuck.

“Hello to you, too, Paige.” Double fuck.

That fucking voice.

I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Hey, CJ.” I breathe. The lighthearted air is swallowed by suffocating tension as I make eye contact with a stranger.

“Oooookay…” Azzi says, clearing her throat. “This is about as awkward as I’d thought it’s be…” she mutters. CJ looks at her. “I told you.”

I look between them. “What’s going on?”

Azzi looked at CJ expectantly, gesturing to her to speak. CJ rolled her eyes and huffed. “I-uh, I have news.” CJ glanced between Azzi and I. She cleared her throat as she picked at her earlobe, a habit she’d picked up when she was younger. I’d always hold her hand to stop her, and I want to do that more than anything right now. I think I’ve lost that right, though.

��I’m transferring to UConn.”

My eyes flick to Azzi’s who’s jaw drops. “Really? How-Why?”

CJ shrugs, trying feign carelessness. “Better environment, Texas heat ain’ my thing.” To the normal eye, CJ’s behavior could be seen as normal. But to me? I see the way her eyelids flutter, the hesitation behind her pretty lips, and the way her eyebrows raise just slightly. She’s a good liar.

Just not good enough.

I don’t say anything, though, not when she gets dragged away by Drew and Jose, not when Drew practically begs her to stay and hang out with us, and certainly not when she’s sat in front of me on the ride Jon chooses. I don’t say anything when the boys get swept away, and it’s just the three of us, like it always used to be.

It’s only when Azzi goes to the bathroom, leaving us alone for the first time in years that I say anything. “Try not to kill each other, please.” She orders as she scurries to the restroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and I can almost see the relief on her face when she thinks I’ll hold my tongue.

Unfortunately, I’m nobody’s peace.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my black cargo pants. She looks up at me. “Uh-just for the week, gotta move outta my dorm, and it’s a long drive, so.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You driving on your own?”

CJ nods. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep in my car or something.” I shake my head. “No fucking way, bro, you serious? That’s like a twenty hour drive.”

She crosses her arms. “So? That’s how I got here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ on your own.” I say. Truthfully, I knew she’d be fine on her own, but something about her driving back to Texas, just to go back to Connecticut, doesn’t sit well with me. I’m only concerned for her safety. Or at least that’s what I decide to tell myself.

She scoffs. “What, you’re gonna come with me?”

“I could, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. Didn’t even wanna see you today.”

I turned to her. “Seriously, dude?” She looks at me. “Yes, seriously.”

I roll my eyes. I know I hurt her. I know I fucked up. But that was three years ago. We were kids. I was eighteen. I can legally drink now. It’s been three years. How can someone be upset for that long? “You gotta get over it one day.” I say before thinking about it.

I regret it when I see a flash of hurt on her face. “Get over it? That’s easy for you to say, Paige.” she spits out harshly.

Ouch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, even though I know exactly what she meant. “Exactly what it sounds like. You get over shit quickly.” She shrugs. Her nonchalant tone pisses me off more than the words. I take a step towards her. “I didn’t ‘get over’ anything. There was nothing to ‘get over’. You were just jealous-”

“Jealous?” She interrupts incredulously. “Paige, you stuck your tongue down her throat!”

“And that pissed you off. Hence, jealousy.” I shrug.

“You were my best friend! It’s not fucking jealousy, it’s betrayal!” She practically yells, taking a step closer, our toes almost touching.

“I didn’t betray anybody! I was drunk! She was drunk! And I apologized afterward!” I say, trying to ignore the way her scent invades my senses.

She laughs dryly, taking a step back. “Right, you’re right. Yeah, an apology fixes it all.” I blink. “Really?”

CJ stares at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” she says, and the only emotion I can pick up is anger. “I know.” I whisper.

Just then Azzi comes out of the bathroom, looking between us. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” We say at the same time, and Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Aaaalrighty then… Can we find the boys, I’m ready to go.”

I nod and begin to walk behind Azzi, but I don’t miss the way CJ looks at me. I’m no expert, but if I know one thing, it’s the gaze of someone who’s been heartbroken.

I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it every time I’ve looked in the mirror for the past three years.

__________

“There’s no way you’re driving to Texas by yourself.” Azzi gapes from the corner seat of the booth. Jose convinced Paige to drive us to some random diner. She’s so easy.

I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my sprite. “Bro, you sound like Paige.” I grumble.

“The fact that I’m agreeing with her should tell you how fucking stupid you sound.” she said. I look at her in shock as Paige throws her head back, cackling.

Fuck.

That stupid fucking laugh paired with that stupid fucking smile makes it so fucking hard to be mad at her. Maybe I should let it go. It has been three years…

No.

Instead of entertaining the thoughts, I opt for kicking her shin instead. “What do you think that says about you, dumbass.” She immediately shuts up, and I roll my eyes as Jon almost spits out his Dr. Pepper.

“I’ll have you know I was AP player of the year.” She defends, eyebrows furrowed. I raise my eyebrows unimpressed. “Still holding onto that, huh?”

Azzi laughs, and Paige shoots her a look. “Can we get back on task, please?” That seems to direct all the attention back to me. “Driving to Texas? All on your own?” Paige says.

“Yes. Did y’all forget how I got here? I didn’t fucking speedwalk.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna go to Texas, spend, what, two full days staying up late and packing up three years of your life, and then driving the… twenty-nine, thirty, hour trip to Connecticut?” Azzi reasons.

I blink. “Well, when you put it like that..” I mutter.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Dude, just let us come with you. We can drive you there, so your car isn’t sitting in the middle of nowhere-”

“Isn’t your car in Storrs?”

“And we can switch drivers. Stay at a hotel halfway there, and then drive the rest of the way the day after.” She finishes, ignoring my comment. Before I can answer, the waiter comes with our food.

As he sets the plates down, I look at Paige, just taking her in. She’s wearing a plain black hoodie, with some red, white, and blue shorts on. It’s not much, but she could be wearing a trashbag and still be the hottest motherfucker around. It’s almost disgusting how effortlessly gorgeous she is.

I wouldn’t mind having someone to help me get to Connecticut. It’s a long drive, and it should be an easy yes. The truth is, when she looks like that, and acts like this, and talks the way she does… I don’t know how I’m going to get through the season, let alone a road trip.

I watch her lips as she says a thank you to the waiter, quickly averting my eyes when she looks at me. When the waiter leaves, I look back up and roll my eyes at her poor attempt to hide her smirk. As much as I wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, driving alone to Texas sounded dreadful. Plus, Paige has an okay music taste. Might not be that bad.

“Fine. You guys can come with me to Texas.”

Azzi smiles, clearly satisfied. Paige grins like a madman, clapping her hands. “This is going to be fun.”

I roll my eyes for the upteenth time tonight.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

=======================

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#patsworks #paige buckers #paige #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers head cannons #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers x oc #cj west #ace of hearts

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drakorn · 5 months ago

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Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Shadow Dragons

Now that we have dealt with our World State, it’s time to pick Rook’s background. When I first learned that there would be six factions to choose from, I was honestly very ecstatic. You’re telling me we’re getting six different origin stories for Rook? Did BioWare finally listen to the fans’ wish to get one more game with DAO-style prologue missions before the big main plot begins? Then I learned that six of the companions you meet would represent one of those respective factions, and I was like “Amazing, so you will definitely have one party member with whom you can at least align interests and goals from the start.”

What we ended up getting was…sort of something in the middle. Your backstory is brought up and you get quite a lot of unique dialogue regarding your faction. If you’re a Shadow Dragon, there’s a lot of Minrathous dialogue tailored to you specifically. If you’re a Grey Warden, you’re having an absolute field day whenever the Blight is involved, which is…a huge chunk of the game.

But there was…something missing for me. You see, when we start the game, we’re immediately thrown into this epic mission where Rook, Varric, and Harding find Neve and race to stop Solas. It feels very much like we’re starting somewhere in the middle rather than at the beginning. And that, in my humble opinion, is due to the lack of a unique origin story that you can actually play through. So, here’s what the next few parts of this hypothetical rewrite of Veilguard will focus on: creating six unique playable origin stories that would very much be doable without the vampiric leech known as “development hell” hovering over you. This post will focus solely on the Shadow Dragon origin story, so stay tuned for the others. I’m aware of how long it might take between posts, but I want to make sure I do this the right way.

Creating Rook

We start the game, which immediately kicks off Varric’s opening narration. But instead of Varric talking about Solas immediately, we’re gonna set the stage for the general state of Northern Thedas: with the South experiencing a few years of relative peace, the North is a wholly different story: Tevinter and the Qunari have engaged in a bloody and brutal all-out war, the Grey Wardens are growing more reclusive, strange reality warping occurs in Arlathan Forest, a part of the Antaam broke off and is now occupying Antiva and Rivain, strange whispers arise from the Grand Necropolis, basically, everything is in chaos. But Varric is certain that one person is the key to all this. Cue the distant howling of a wolf and six red eyes. Cut to black.

Now we get to customise Rook and choose our faction. As the title of this post suggests, we’re taking the Shadow Dragon route. The backstory text, however, is going to be different to the one we get in DAV. You see, when reading through those backstories, I got the feeling that all of them sounded like outlines for what could have been the origin story quest. I am actually 100% confident that BioWare planned on including prologue missions at one point but had to scrap them due to development hell reasons. And all of the six summaries essentially boil down to “you upset some higher authority and now your faction wants you out of the spotlight.” All the choices regarding Rook’s personality have already been made for us. Playing this actual backstory allows us to roleplay in a roleplaying game, which…shocking, I know, but here me out. Instead, the origin text we get when we click on the Shadow Dragons is simply going to be:

“You are a Shadow Dragon. This underground resistance opposes corrupt rulers and slavery in Tevinter. Coming from all walks of life, they are determined to bring justice to the people. As a member of House Mercar, a renowned Soporati family renowned on the battlefield against the Antaam, you have much influence to bring, and much to lose.”

That’s just the small little snippet we see when hovering over the option. But that’s all we’re gonna get for now. There is no mention yet of Rook’s personality as we’ll get to shape it ourselves a little bit. So, we customise our Rook, finalise our massive World State, and click on the play button at last.

Varric’s narration continues, just like in DAV, but this time, he’s going to give us our chosen faction’s backstory. We get a recap on how Dorian and Maevaris founded the Lucerni shortly after the war with Corypheus and how much of a ray of hope this group was in the twisted and corrupt society of the Tevinter Imperium. But then, some of the more powerful magisters began to heavily push against them, eventually leading to Maevaris being framed for treason and losing her seat in the Magisterium. She took all the blame on herself so that Dorian would be able to retain a spotless reputation and continue their work on the great political stage. Maevaris took the remaining Lucerni underground and formed the Shadow Dragons, continuing their work under a different name. Now unbound by political restrictions, the Shadow Dragons are free to take more radical measures in their fight against oppression and slavery. And Varric is confident that the perfect candidate to go against the bigger threat can be found in this group.

The Shadow Lair

Our story begins in Minrathous, in the underground base of the Shadow Dragons. And right off the bat, we’re making a change regarding said base’s location. In DAV, it stands in a random building somewhere in Dock Town that pretty much anyone could access. I get that they were probably going for the “hide in plain sight” approach, but let’s actually have some fun here.

In this rewrite, the Shadow Dragons are literally operating from the underground. Now, Minrathous’ underground system has two things that are very beneficial for a secretive rebellious organisation:

Vast catacombs. The catacombs of Minrathous are so massive that they can store food to survive years of siege. Minrathous, like so many cities and settlements in Tevinter, is built on the bones of Elvhenan. You can easily get lost in those catacombs.

Gigantic sewers. The sewers are arguably even more treacherous than the catacombs, because we have seen in Tevinter Nights what can lurk there. Imagine the sewers of the greatest city in the world, the greatest magical city in the world. Surely it comes with its own set of urban legends akin to the sewer gator. But in a city like Minrathous, those legends are probably true. Failed magical experiments, lyrium-infused mutations, abominations of former mages who failed some twisted blood magic experiment, possessed objects; all this can be found in Minrathous’ sewers. Dangerous for everyone, and therefore perfect for the Shadow Dragons.

The Shadow Dragons operate from a place called "The Shadow Lair”, a section of an underground district known simply as “The Undercity”. That’s where all the poor and forgotten retreat if they wish to disappear from the world, or criminals who flee the Imperium’s justice system. A dangerous but also perfect place.

NOTE: For the duration of the prologue, Rook will be referred to by the name of Mercar, as “Rook” is the name they give themselves after disappearing from the scene.

Depending on what race Mercar is, the stakes vary:

If Mercar is a human, they are the direct heir of House Mercar, destined to take over the family name one day. If Mercar is a human mage, they are currently in the process of getting their family appointed to Laetan status, which will give them more political power and influence.

If Mercar is a dwarf, they are an adopted scion of House Mercar.

If Mercar is an elf or a qunari, they are an official slave of House Mercar, but it’s made pretty clear in the beginning that House Mercar’s slaves are slaves in name only, while actually being more akin to paid servants. House Mercar simply refers to them as slaves to stay under the Magisterium’s radar and actually uses them to pass on information to the Shadow Dragons.

I was personally disappointed that DAV didn’t really touch on Tevinter’s slavery system. It felt a bit like I was treated with kid gloves and not given the trust to being able to handle dark topics. But Tevinter, as has been established in all DA media before DAV, is a pretty dark place for anyone who isn’t a human mage. And it’s important to depict that as it shows the stakes and just how rotten of a society the Imperium is. We need to see what the Shadow Dragons are actually fighting for. It’s not enough to just tell us how much a freedom fighter group we are, no, we need to see it.

Meeting the Leaders of the Shadow Dragons

For the sake of this playthrough, our Mercar is going to be a human mage, and thus not only the direct heir to the house but also one who can elevate it to Laetan status. We have a lot to lose, so we must be extra careful in this precarious situation.

So Mercar meets with the leaders of the Shadow Dragons, namely Maevaris and the Viper. From this conversation, we get the general gist of what’s about to happen and why we are here: House Mercar decided to get a bit more involved with the Shadow Dragons after both parties discovered a massive plot for something big involving Minrathous’ vast slave population. Whatever it is, it’s happening somewhere in Dock Town, and we are to rendezvous with Neve Gallus, a local and renowned detective, to get to the bottom of this.

Exploring the Shadow Lair

After the conversation, we get to have a quick look around the Shadow Lair, where we can instigate a small series of encounters:

We can talk to Maevaris some more and learn about her past and her motivation behind what used to be the Lucerni.

We can talk to the Viper and learn more about him, how he’s usually running operations and that he’s from an Altus house. But that’s about everything you can learn about him at this point in time.

We can meet Lorelei and learn about her being one of the city elves Loghain sold to Tevinter all the way back in DAO. She will give a few remarks on how the Hero of Ferelden dealt with the Alienage and how she and Alistair made it a more just place.

NOTE: For this rewrite’s hypothetical playthrough, the Hero of Ferelden is a Human Noble who romanced Alistair and became Queen of Ferelden. She is now searching for a cure for the Calling.

We can have a bit of a look at the Undercity and just see how much of a poor and dark place it is. This is the gutter, no, this is below the gutter. The people here wish to disappear. They are miserable, most of them have given up hope. The Shadow Dragons are the only ones who actually care about them.

Since the Undercity is below modern Minrathous, we can see traces of ancient elven architecture on display, including mosaics and frescoes.

An Old Friend

Just as we’re about to leave for Dock Town, a familiar face strides into the Shadow Lair: Varric Tethras. Yes, we actually get to see Rook’s first meeting with Varric here! Maevaris greets and introduces him to us (and we actually get to know that Varric and Maevaris are family, which DAV kind of glossed over, thank you very much). Mercar gets to have a first chat with Varric, where he assess our personality. This vibe check is what allows us to determine Rook’s general personality: are we diplomatic, humorous, or aggressive? I fully get that Varric wouldn’t pick an evil person to fight against Solas, but we should still have some kind of roleplay room regarding Rook’s way of thinking and speaking.

Varric’s purpose in these prologues is very similar to Duncan’s in DAO. He’s the one who recruits you into the larger fight and acts as a mentor figure for a while. I was actually fully expecting that to be the case in the actual game when we were told that Varric recruits Rook into the fight against Solas. Well, he did, but I would have liked to see it! Alas, we shall do so here!

Varric stays behind in the Shadow Lair while we go off and do our thing.

Entering Dock Town

Dock Town is pretty much right above the Undercity, the gutter above the actual gutter. The entrance to the Shadow Lair is quite hidden with enchantments, known only to Shadow Dragons and their associates.

Dock Town is going to stay pretty much exactly as we see it in the game. If there is one place in Minrathous where everyone could mingle without being necessarily immediately prosecuted, it’s that place (which is probably why that’s the only part of Minrathous we see in the game, but I digress). However, there will be one major change: slavery is still a thing.

Dock Town is…well…a place where ships dock. That includes ships of slave traders and prisoners of war. In this rewrite, Tevinter is still locked into a war with the Qunari, so there will be a lot of that reflected in the environment. As we walk through Dock Town, we see guards on high alert, slaves and prisoners being led away in chains. We’re doing some important environmental storytelling here that lets us know exactly why Tevinter is a place that needs to be liberated and changed so desperately.

Meeting Neve Gallus

We find Neve Gallus at the Cobbled Swan. Depending on dialogue choices, we might or might not have heard of her up to this point. I think it would be fun if Mercar could geek out about her because he read some sensationalist tabloid about one of her cases.

So Neve tells us that a huge part of Dock Town was closed off for a great event, a former small coliseum that hasn’t been used in decades. Coincidentally, several unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are being dragged into that area.

Neve has a good lead to assume that the Venatori are somehow behind this because of course they are. Neve gives us a recap on what the Venatori are and how she had multiple run-ins with them already. She is to be absolutely certain that Mercar can be trusted as they will need to work together on this. In response, Mercar shares his side of the information, that his father, Charon Mercar, who is also a respected Legatus in this rewrite, oversaw a strange pattern in how many prisoners of war and masterless slaves, primarily from places like Ventus and Carastes, Qunari-conquered cities, have simply disappeared, and how surprisingly many military vessels have been transferred to Minrathous. Since Neve is a detective, it’s fun to make this part of the journey feel a bit like a crime mystery.

Once all information has been shared, Neve declares that it’s time to go.

Approaching the Coliseum

Neve takes us across Dock Town’s roofs towards the closed-off area of the coliseum. There, we see just how massively guarded it is. The official excuse for all this is a military training exercise. Horrifyingly, this is much closer to the truth than we realise. There are Imperial Templars and Legionnaires patrolling the outskirts, so we have to find our way in.

Neve directs us to a secret hiding spot, where we meet Tarquin, who is, as we know, an Imperial Templar working for the Shadow Dragons. Not even he knows exactly what’s happening, but something definitely big is going on.

There are two options before us: do we sneak in from above and observe from the shadows, or do we disguise ourselves as templars and participate in a more open manner? This right here gives us another choice regarding Mercar’s way of doing things. Are we feeling confident enough to just walk in and hide in plain sight? Or do we take the stealthy approach? While Neve is all for stealth, Tarquin prefers the closer look. So a first major choice presents itself:

Follow Neve and observe the proceedings from above, quietly gathering the information you need.

Follow Tarquin and disguise yourself as an attendant, getting a much closer look at the proceedings.

So I’m feeling a little brave right now. I think my Mercar would try to do the bold approach to get better results, even if it means a higher risk. For this playthrough, I’m choosing to follow Tarquin and let myself be disguised. Neve begrudgingly follows along.

Entering the Coliseum

A few minutes later, Mercar, Neve, and Tarquin approach the Coliseum gates in disguise. Tarquin wears his Templar armour, while Mercar and Neve are dressed as mages of the Legion.

Once we enter the arena, we have the chance to explore it for a little while. Doing so allows us to encounter the following:

We can have an early chat with Magister Zara Renata, who will, of course, be very relevant later, along with her lackeys Felicia and Calivan, all of whom are prominent members of the Venatori. Neve is able to make that connection due to Felicia’s brother Livius having so notoriously attempted to corrupt the Wardens at Adamant Fortress in DAI.

We may encounter Magister Bataris, alongside his son Albin and get early hints of just how far the Venatori corruption runs.

If we make a good enough persuasion attempt at the Templar Captain guarding the entrance to a basement, we shall enter it and discover the prisoners and slaves intended for some heinous affair. Here, and only here, if we perform this correct dialogue choice, and being a human mage, unfortunately, certainly helps here, we get to see that our father, Charon Mercar, is among the imprisoned. And the worst of it all? He doesn’t even recognise you. Actually none of the slaves and prisoners react in any way, as all of them seem to be under some sort of spell. As we look closer, we can see that all of them have strange spiked collars around their necks, filled with blood. This is blood magic that keeps them entranced. If we want to risk it, we have time to break our father’s collar and ensure that perhaps, he can escape. So we do just that.

The Imperator

Following our exploration of the Coliseum, we get streamed into a crowd of onlookers as the Imperator of Tevinter’s legions, the Supreme Legatus himself, Magister Aemilianus Laskaris, enters the centre of the arena.

We know from DAV that Tevinter has an Imperator, and the Imperator is not the same as the Archon in this context. While the Archon is the overall ruler, the Imperator is the highest military commander. Think of this guy as Tevinter’s version of Loghain. Laskaris also happens to be one of the loudest voices responsible for forcing the Lucerni out of the Magisterium.

Laskaris delivers a speech in which he proclaims just how bad Tevinter is faring against the Antaam. Here we get some early insight into the fact that a large chunk of the Qunari army broke off and is now bearing down on Antiva and Rivain. However, a large part of it remained and is following the Arishok into battle against the Imperium. And even against this broken Antaam, the Legions are starting to fail.

Laskaris cites lost cities such as Ventus, Carastes, and Neromenian as evidence for the desperate situation Tevinter is now facing. Therefore, something must be done. Something drastic. He presents, to the gathered onlookers, the Salvatio Initiative. Basically, all unpurchased slaves and prisoners of war are to be given to Tevinter’s legions, where Laskaris and the Legates serving under him will perform blood magic rituals to turn them into mindless but ravaging soldiers against the Antaam. Dangerous cannon fodder essentially. He will use tonight’s demonstration to convince the gathered members of the Magisterium to pass a law that will officially permit Tevinter’s legions to use blood magic. Well, we know, Tevinter has always used blood magic behind closed doors, but this will mean that all safety measures are off, all precautions, all careful attempts at hiding it. And the worst part is: since slaves are considered nothing but tools, it won’t even be seen as unethical by the large portion of conservative Senate members. And prisoners of war? Qunari? Who cares about them anyway, right? This is the darkness and true corruption permeating Tevinter. This is exactly why the Shadow Dragons exist to bring back the light.

Several doors open and Laskaris directs all slaves and prisoners to be brought forth. They are all wearing the blood collars. Upon the Imperator’s command, him and several blood mages under his leadership, activate the blood collars and turn the slaves and prisoners into an absolute frenzy. A battle erupts in which the sheer destructive power of the now-mindless fighters is demonstrated.

Mercar now has a choice to make, and it is the biggest one there is in the prologue:

Do we stealthily fight the blood mages and try to rescue the innocent mind-controlled people without blowing our cover? You do, however, risk your father dying.

Do we rush in headfirst and fight Laskaris head-on, saving your father but maybe dooming more innocents and risking exposure?

Do we put our personal emotional interest above the greater good or vice versa? Well, because we broke our father’s collar earlier, we can at least assume that he’s going to be able to fight for himself with a clear head, so let’s focus on the blood mages in a stealthy manner.

Neve and Tarquin quickly take us behind the scenes as the crowd watchers in apt interest. There are five blood mages, including Laskaris, who need to be dealt with. Neve takes one half, Tarquin the other, while you have a go at Laskaris himself. You are masked so he won’t know it’s you.

While Neve and Tarquin successfully dismantle two blood mages each, we sneak right up to Laskaris and try to either knock him out or backstab him altogether. This results in the same outcome but tells a lot about Mercar’s personality. Do we kill this guy and end it now? Or do we try and incapacitate him so that he can still be of use for the future?

Regardless, Laskaris sees it coming and engages in a boss battle against us. It’s a tough battle, one that we are logically meant to lose. If we get Laskaris down to 0HP, miraculously so unless we play on Storyteller mode, the cutscene will slightly change but the outcome remains largely the same.

Laskaris lashes out and wounds us, causing us to fall down, bleeding, losing our mask, exposing ourselves to Laskaris, while the slaves and prisoners stage a mad revolt around us, forcing the gathered magisters to flee the scene. But because we freed our father from his collar, he comes rushing in to save us, engaging Laskaris in a one-on-one duel. Despite “only” being Soporati, he puts up quite a fight with his huge two-hander. We want to help him, desperately so, but we are just too weak. Laskaris is impressed by Charon’s strength, but ultimately, deals him a mortal wound. Just before Laskaris turns to finish us off, he is struck in the shoulder by…Bianca!

Varric steps into the fray and fires off a row of bolts against the Imperator, allowing Neve and Tarquin to take us away as we pass out. As they do so, the Viper appears and casts a spell that shrouds the whole arena in fog.

Back at the Shadow Lair

We awaken in the Shadow Lair and are greeted by Varric. It turns out that he was using this whole mission to assess us from the background, to determine if we are the one he’s looking for. And he decides that, yes, we are. Laskaris, the Venatori, all of this is just one puzzle piece of something much greater. We can press Varric on what this could possibly be, but he won't tell us just yet. Instead, he tells us that we should disappear. And he might just be able to help with that. We can be incredibly outrageous about this. I just discovered the biggest plot to endanger slaves ever since the Magister Sidereal tore open the Veil to reach the Golden City! I can’t just leave right now to pursue something I don't even know about!

At this point, Maevaris joins us and agrees that Mercar has to disappear for a while, now that Laskaris knows who we are. We can’t be seen with the Shadow Dragons for the time being. Doing so would just endanger the whole cause.

Reluctantly or readily, that depends on our personality, we concede that there is sense in Varric’s words. Varric advises us to adopt a codename as well, like so many agents of the Inquisition did back in the day. Mercar thinks for a moment, reflects on the most recent events, and decides on “Rook”. Varric approves. “The strongest piece on the chessboard, I like it.”

Afterwards we get a final chance to talk to the members of the Shadow Dragons before we depart, and get a last look at the Undercity. Neve returns to Dock Town to keep an eye on Laskaris and the slave rings, as well as search for any Venatori ties.

What follows is a cutscene where Rook and Varric depart the Shadow Lair and leave Minrathous altogether. One last time, Rook looks at the city he swore to fight for, then turns around and follows Varric into the unknown.

And that’s as far as we’ll go today! I hope you enjoyed my little hypothetical take on a potential Shadow Dragon origin mission. Of course, not everything is refined and perfect, but I hope you still got the overall gist of what I was going for! Next time, we shall focus on a potential prologue for the Grey Wardens! Stay tuned!

Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens

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