#yeah no way he was going to keep the inquisition. not when his faith in his companions and his own judgement has been so shaken
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sonofsin · 11 months ago
Text
ouch.
3 notes · View notes
gloryofroses19 · 9 months ago
Text
Because the Night
Tumblr media
The atmosphere in the pub was already in full swing by the time Major Bucky Egan led his group to the table Tommy saved for them.
“Jesus, it’s like those paratroopers never seen a woman before.” Curt wiped his uniform jacket, “They took one look at [y/n] and it was like Niagra Falls.” 
Taking the seat Bucky held out for her, [y/n] thanked him as she sat. 
“I think Ol’ Faithful Geyser at Yosemite might be a better choice Curt.” Buck replied taking a seat across from Bucky. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever cowboy.” Looking at the expectant faces of Bucky and Buck, Curt sighed “Yes, Bucky I wouldn’t mind getting the drinks. Why thank you Buck, I am the kindest man in this bar.”  
Ignoring Curt and Buck, Bucky leaned in closer to [y/n] watching the paratrooper across the bar tense. “So, who is he?” 
Major Bucky Egan was not shocked that men looked at [y/n]. She was not only one of the few women around, but she was as pretty as a picture. And she knew it, hell it was on the reasons Bucky liked her. Her beauty caught his eye but her self assured nature drew him in. So while he didn’t love the looks men gave her in general, the look of recognition and remorse in this paratrooper in particular sent air raid sirens through his mind. 
Twisting her earring with a sigh, [y/n] met Bucky’s inquisitive gaze. “My ex.” 
Raising his eyebrows as if to ask for confirmation of what he just heard, [y/n] nodded to the brunette.  From across the table Major Buck Clevens sat up straight as he watched the growing opposing demeanor of the pair. One that spoke of apathy while the other spoke of interest in the topic. 
“Who we fightin’?” Dropping the drinks on the table, Curt rejoined the trio, “Bucky’s got that rabble rouser look on his face.”  
“The ginger at 12 o’clock doing a shitty job at secretly surveying [y/n].” Buck drawled watching Bucky attempt to catch the ginger’s eye. Major Gale Clevens knew John Egan well enough to know when he was looking for a fight. Gale had seen John protective over his friends and his men, so he could only imagine what he would be like over his unofficial girl.  
“No shit? Want me to fuck him up for you?” Turning around in his seat, Curt assessed the paratrooper and his friends. “There’s only four of them, we can easily take ‘em.” 
[y/n] leaned back in her chair contemplating the situation she found herself in. Before she had walked into the bar, her biggest concern was how she was going to keep Bucky from serenading her tonight. But walking in and seeing her ex’s face and John’s reaction threw that concern right out of the window. 
“While that is sweet of you Curt, no. It’s been two years, I’m long over him and if anyone should be scared, it should be him. I’m not the one who cheated.” Since their breakup, she hadn't put much thought into her ex or dating. And it certainly wasn’t because she was still in love with him. Rather the war broke out and she joined the WAC leaving her with little time or interest to date. Or that had been the case until Major John Egan swaggered his way onto Thorpe Abbotts base. 
“That fucker… makes me wanna punch him more now.” 
 “If it makes you feel better Curt, I broke his nose when I found him cheating.” 
“Atta girl.” Buck chuckled while sipping his ginger beer. He expected nothing less from the spitfire who stole his best friend’s heart. 
 “Didn’t you say you were getting harassing letters from an ex?” The arm that had been carelessly thrown over the back of her chair suddenly wrapped around [y/n]’s shoulder pulling closer to John. 
“I was exaggerating, John. It was just a letter!” Placing her hand over his, [y/n] squeezed his hand in a silent plea. “Please don’t do anything stupid...” Looking for Buck for support, [y/n] was however, met with the profile of the blonde major.
Bucky chuckled as he watched [y/n]’s attempt to deter him. While he and Gale Clevens may have been opposites, Buck was a true friend.  And true friends let other friends knock out the guy bothering his girl. “Won’t be considered anything stupid if it comes to you, sweetheart.” 
Between the protective glint in his eyes and baritone voice, [y/n]’s heart began hammering in her chest. Grounding herself in the contrast of his rough hands against her softer ones, she was reminded of who Major John Egan was. “Look if he comes this way then you can be my knight in shining armor but right now can we just go back to flirting and listening to Curt rewrite a story about how amazing his flying is?” 
Curt put hands up in defense. “Hey, I am amazing at flying and I don’t rewrite stories, I just…embellish them.” 
Hooking an arm around Curt’s neck, Buck tapped a fist against Curt’s chest. “Oh embellish, what a big word for you Curt.” 
Deciding that it had been far too long since he had her attention all to himself, John Egan tucked an escaped curl behind her ear before leaning in to whisper.  “…So you are flirting with me, Lieutenant? Keep that up and someone might think you like me.” 
The warmth of his body and the smell of his aftershave left her all but lightheaded. They had unofficially officially been an item since his second day at the base. When she decided to share her umbrella and laughter with the handsome hapless Major who lost the battle and a shoe to the English mud. 
“Oh the horror Bucky…” 
“Oh, calling me Bucky, you must really want me to do this for you.” Caressing her the inside of her wrist, John considered if tonight would be the night he could kiss her like he always wanted to. As a promise for it their last first kiss because the night belongs to lovers like them. 
“I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you don’t start a bar brawl.” [y/n] supplied in response watching the smile light up across his face, knowing she had opened a can of worms. But she couldn’t say she regretted it; Bucky Egan was the sun and she basked under his warmth.
“Oh, with a request like that how can I say no?… for now.” Sharing in her laughter, John placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. 
Sipping his whiskey, John turned back to the group and sought counsel on his new dilemma. “What do you think boys, handsome, the way to go? No, maybe I should go with pretty boy? No, too soft. Mhmm, how about my darling future husband? Now that has a nice ring to it!” 
A/N: I apparently have a thing for hand holding... I appreciate any and all feedback!
269 notes · View notes
broodwolf221 · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
i have a feeling this might be one of my more contentious bits of meta, but - cullen positive!
i just think... i understand why people don't like him and a lot of it is fine, but i feel like there's also some misunderstandings or oversimplifications going around
first: templar = bad.
as an organization, yes! as individuals, no! templars are like horrible magic cops, that's bad, but we have to keep in mind that a lot of them - including alistair, including cullen - were given over to the chantry when they were very young and indoctrinated into becoming templars. some join later in life and those i take more issue with, but the ones who were given over to it young? i find it hard to blame them for becoming templars
second: it's a religious calling.
there's a huge amount of religious/cultural pressure to conform to chantry teachings, and this is the way someone who's not cut out to be a chantry member can still conform and gain social standing and respect. there's also the strong chantry pressure of Mages Are Bad, Actually, so the templars are seen as something of a divine protector of the innocent. obviously this is fucked up and inaccurate, but it's worth noting that the pressure and social gains are real, and that even lower-class citizens seem able to become templars. and if someone was only good at fighting, had little to no educational background, and still wanted to support themselves or their family? what are their choices? become a mercenary, criminal, or become a templar.
third: lyrium
after they take their vows, they're given their first draught of lyrium. so... let's look at this critically for a second. children given over, taught that mages are bad, that templars are good, that the chantry is good, that the chantry teachings are real, and that their faith would be rewarded. they're even schooled by the chantry, so they have little to no access to any points of view outside of it. then, if appropriate, they're asked: do you want to be a templar? and if they say yes, if they take their vows, they're given a drug that creates a profound dependency.
fourth: okay, but this was supposed to be about cullen?
and it is! bc cullen turned his back on all that. i'm not saying he didn't make mistakes - he's not saying he didn't make mistakes, horrible ones! but meredith lied to him in order to keep him committed, because she knew he wouldn't approve of what she was doing.
on a personal level, he was: indoctrinated into a cult (yeah i'm calling the chantry/the templar order a cult bc it is); tortured by the exact thing he was taught to fear and revile; following that torture, tried once again to return to the one thing he knew how to do and was deceived and led astray by a brutal commander who he wouldn't have followed if he'd known what was happening. and what did he do with all that?
he turned away. he rejected it. he rejected a large part of his upbringing, his sociocultural heritage, his faith, his indoctrination - and, oh yeah, his addiction. as a recovering addict, i find his story frankly amazing. he's willing to die to distance himself from what he now knows the templar order to be.
and cole mentions that cullen is one of the good ones when you ask him about templars. cullen has a lot of shit to unpack and a lot of trauma around magic and mages, and he's been cruel and contributed to a brutal system, but he's also grown a lot. like... it must have been so hard. he rejected everything. and sure, now he's serving the inquisition, another facet of the chantry, but even then... it's not the same, not at all. for one, the inquisition and the chantry are constantly at odds.
so he rejected everything he was taught, everything he was trained in, all that his significant trauma taught him, and the pull of addiction. he's changing himself. he's learning and growing. he's catching the remains of his own prejudice. again: if you don't like him, that's fine, i get it. he's far from perfect. but i really appreciate characters who take it upon themselves to question their beliefs, to grow and learn and change.
so yeah. i like him.
112 notes · View notes
fangirlingfromdownunder · 2 years ago
Text
A.P.U Comfort
Summary - Part 18 in the Comfort series
Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)
Warnings - mentions of miscarriage
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. Beware though, this one is a little longer than usual – I got a little carried away as I had a particular episode in mind that I wanted to rewrite for this situation. The GIF below is a major hint at what we're diving into. Until next week, enjoy! 
Tumblr media
Meanwhile in Sioux Falls…
“I don’t know what to do, Bobby. I don’t know how to help her feel better when I don’t know how to shut off the pain myself. She’s a shell of herself…I just want to see her smile again. She would’ve been an amazing mother, you know.”
“For a start, you don’t shut it off. You share it. You confide in your girl. Let her confide in you. ‘Cause you’re no better. Sam said it’s like living in a morgue and now I can see for myself what he means. You will both be great parents when the time is right. Neither of you is the type to give up on anything when it comes to helping others, you just need to apply that same passion to yourselves and each other.”
“How?”
“You love her and you let her love you. In the meantime though let’s go see what Jody claims is so urgent.”
They gear up and get into the Impala and drive 20 minutes to a cafe in Hartford, where Jody had said to meet her. 
“Howdy boys, thanks for meeting me.”
“Anything for you, Sheriff,” Bobby says as he exits the car. 
“Hey, Jody.”
“Hey Dean, glad to see you’re holding up okay. If you and Y/N ever need a home-cooked meal or company be sure to drop in. I’m here for both of you.”
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to let her know when I get home. So, what’s the case?”
“This is a small town. Only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week...four people go missing.”
“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean asks
“I've got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night. Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V., I'd tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I've seen…”
“Nothing's impossible,” Bobby says.
“Uh-huh.”
“And this matches up with the other missing how?” Dean asks.
“Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene -- literally,” Jody says as she pulls out a folder full of photos and case reports and spreads them out on the table between them.
“So, the first vic was a pastor?” Bobby confirms.
“Yeah. The door of his study was punched in. And then, the next two…an engaged couple.”
“Locked bedroom window was ripped open,” Dean reads out.
“Mm-hmm. And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.”
“Any other connection among them?” Bobby asks.
“Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith church here. My, uh, my church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.”
Dean gives her an inquisitive look and says, “I didn't peg you for churchy.”
“Yeah. You know… all this stuff I’ve seen recently kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.”
“Okay, so, we have, uh, missing church folk and super strength. Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing,” Bobby says.
“Wh-- angels? You're joking.”
“Don't get your pants on fire. They suck,” Dean says, “you said there was a witness?”
“Yeah, well...more or less.”
“We’ll be needing to meet him,” Bobby states.
Jody scribbles an address down on a napkin and slides it across the table to Bobby, “This is where you’ll find him. Not sure how reliable he’ll be. Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work. Good luck, and keep me updated,” she says as she gets up and makes her way out of the cafe.
Dean and Bobby tidy up the files and head back out to the Impala and drive to the address Jody gave them. They walk up to an alley filled with makeshift tents and trolleys full. They walk around the back of a restaurant and find a messy-looking man sitting on the ground leaning against the brick wall. They clear their throat and flash their fake FBI badges at him.
Dean takes a seat on the couch the man led them to and says, “So, tell us about this missing girl you reported.”
“Honor. Her name was Honor. Nice girl. Always left me meatloaf.”
“Why don't you tell us what you saw that night?” Dean says.
“I heard a big noise, got woke, and there's somebody over there lifting a car up.”
“And did you happen to see who it was?” Dean asks.
“I was too far. But I saw a light go off.”
“A white light?” Bobby asks
“Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was…she wasn't there.”
“Could you think of anything else?” Bobby asks.
“No.”
“Okay. Well...thank you for your time,” they both say as they stand up and see themselves out. 
As they get into the Impala Bobby says, “Okay. So, no white light.”
“No angel. So Jody said that they were all part of the same church?”
“Yeah.”
“Ready to get your worship on?” With that, Dean pulls out into the street and speeds off towards Good Faith Church in the centre of town. He pulls into a park in front of the large religious building. They take in the multicoloured stained glass windows showcasing stories of the bible as they walk through the heavy wooden doors. A short lady with shoulder-length blonde hair welcomes them.
“Welcome to Good Faith Church, I haven’t seen you at our services. Are you new to town?”
“Something like that,” Bobby says as he shakes her hand.
“Well then, can I interest you in a tour?”
“Sure,” Dean says with a nod.
They follow her around the halls of the chapel and listen as she tells them stories of their faith. At the end of the tour, she leads them into an office and offers them to take a seat. “We hope you enjoyed the tour. Any questions before we get you boys registered?”
“Uh, yeah, look, Ms Futchko,” Bobby says.
“Oh, please... Bonnie will do just fine.”
“Bonnie. Okay, we...love the church. We do. But...Well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing, and, to be honest...that kind of scares us.”
“Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer. And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and centre in our prayers.”
“What a relief. Now, you must have been, uh, close to them,” Dean cuts in.
“Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond.”
“The A.P.U.?” Dean asks.
“Our chastity group...‘Abstinence Purifies Us.’”
“Oh. W-wow. You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?” Bobby asks.
“I'm afraid it's members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal.”
“Then count us in,” Bobby says.
“Well. I'll be a squirrel in a skirt. I'll be back in a jiff with the papers.” Bonnie walks out of the office to collect the papers, leaving Dean and Bobby sitting alone.
“A chastity group?” Dean asks.
“Dean, listen, if all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins.”
“And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire. So, what are you thinking, dragons?”
Bonnie returns with two clipboards interrupting them. “All righty. You can just sign there, and your purification can begin.”
“Purity pledge?” Bobby reads out.
“It's a commitment to your virginity.”
“I don't think we can really un-ring that bell. You know what I mean?” Dean states with a smirk.
“Oh. I see. Well... If you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then, you'll be born again as a virgin in his eyes.”
“So, you just hit the "virginity do-over" button, and all is good with the man upstairs?” Dean asks.
“It's not a button. And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage.”
“You know what, I’ve had my shot. Been married and all that, so I’m out. But you’re recently engaged, might be the perfect time for you. Sure your girl would be thrilled with the prospect of a pure white wedding,” Bobby says handing back the clipboard unsigned.
“Well, you had me at clean slate. Let's do this,” Dean says as he signs his name and hands back the clipboard.
“Congratulations, Dean Winchester. You are now a virgin.”
Dean gives her a tight smile and glances at Bobby. Bonnie takes the clipboards and leaves to start setting up the session. 
“You think Y/N will forgive me for this?”
“Depends…you planning on honouring your pledge?”
“As you said, it might be just what we need right now. Gives me more incentive to get her in that white dress already. Clean slate, new plan, the start of a happy future for us.”
“Alright. Well, you go get pure. I’m gonna hit the library.”
Dean hands Bobby the keys to the Impala and makes his way to the room Bonnie had shown them earlier where the meetings are held. When he enters the room he sees a group of women setting up folding chairs in a circle and laying out trays of food and coolers on a couple of folding tables along one wall. He helps set up the chairs before they all take a seat.
One of the ladies claps her hands and looks around the circle smiling. “Good afternoon, everyone. I'm Suzy. I thought we'd begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends.”
Everyone closes their eyes in a silent prayer except for Dean who is still watching everyone. After a moment he joins in and ducks his head quietly.
“Amen. Now, does anyone have anything that they would like to share?” Suzy asks. “Why don't we hear from our new friend? Dean, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?”
“Uh, hard to say, exactly. Yeah. Sex has always felt, I don't know, good, you know? I mean, really, really good. But, uh...Sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know? But, you know, when you get down to it, what's the big deal, right? I mean, sure, there's the touching and the feeling all of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body, the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just...Yeah. Uh...But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. So, uh, I got my V card back. The end.”
The meeting continues with an air of discomfort after Dean’s confession. Dean watches everyone intently for the rest of the meeting. Once it’s over he helps tidy up the chairs and create small talk with some of the ladies to search for leads. 
He makes his way over to the leader, Suzy and says, “Hey, Suzy right? Great meeting. But I uh, I gotta say you look so familiar.”
“Yeah, I-I'm pretty sure we've never met, Dean.”
“Alright.”
“Wait, you're new in town, right?”
“Uh, yeah. New to town. New to this whole chastity thing.”
“Well, I provide individual counselling. If you ever need to talk.”
“So, everybody in the group, they dish to you?”
“They confide. Abstinence is – it's really rough without support and education. Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I-I live close. I'll just go grab them.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. With a, uh, with a kidnapper on the loose?”
“No, I'll be fine.”
“Tell you what, why don't I walk with you just to be safe, okay?”
“Alright, if you insist.”
They walk side-by-side back to her apartment. When she opens the door for them she says, “Make yourself comfortable.”
Dean watches as she takes off her hoodie leaving her just wearing a camisole. She sits down on her couch with her back to Dean. His cell phone rings, but he declines it quickly. He approaches Suzy on the couch and notices that she is crying.
“I can't stop thinking about my friends. I'm so scared for them. Will you pray with me, Dean?”
“Sure.” She takes his hand in her own and bows her head. Dean lightly squeezes her hand and awkwardly bows his head in response. 
After a while, she gains her composure and stands up abruptly. “Well, I’ll get you those books. Just give me one minute.”
Dean gives her a soft, awkward smile and stands up. He looks around the room. He sees a drawer slightly cracked open. He opens the drawer wider and in shock pulls out two Casa Erotica DVDs. His phone rings again, and when he sees the caller ID he’s quick to answer.
“Hey, sorry I left without saying anything, I had to come help Bobby with something.”
“I know, it’s fine. I just need to ask you something,” Y/N says over the phone.
“Shoot,” Dean says as he places the DVDs on the cabinet and makes his way into the hall.
“Is there more to our relationship than sex?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Just tell me the truth, Dean.”
“Of course. You make me feel safe, happy, and hopeful. All feelings I haven’t felt since I was four. You make me want to be a better man. You give me a reason to live and fight harder to get to the other side of this dangerous, messy life we lead. You make me believe there is a way out. I don’t tell you every day, even though I should, but I love you.” He looks back at the door briefly, the images from the DVDs filtering through his mind distracting him. “I just…since you lost the baby…I guess I’ve felt lost. Like maybe there isn’t a way out or a future for us.”
“Dean…don’t say that.”
“You wanted the truth…I knew I never should have got my hopes up. You let me believe and then you let me down, again.”
“Don’t you dare blame me! I wasn’t sure either, and you’re the one that convinced me! You’re the one that told me it would be okay. I know you’re hurting, Dean, but so am I.”
“Hunters just aren’t meant to have relationships or families or futures.”
“Dean, baby, please. That’s not true.”
“Look around, sweetheart, it is.”
When the line goes silent he puts his phone away and goes back into Suzy’s apartment.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)
@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican
75 notes · View notes
mask-of-prime · 1 year ago
Photo
Tumblr media
VG: Speed Run
It was early in the morning. A certain rhino paced as he thought up his speech. He took a deep breath as he contemplated returning to the Pridelands. He was onto the next part of his plan... "Hey." The rhino in question sighed in annoyance before turning to the voice. He saw that it had been Mrembo, the monotone, hairy lion. "Any idea when our next mission will be? Dying to get something to eat." "No missions today!" the rhino then grimaced, "And you know how uncomfortable it makes me when you talk about the types of things you eat! Now, please! I've got a very important speech to make to a few friends." "Oooh! Can we come?!" Jeuri suddenly piped. "NO! Absolutely not!" the rhino roared, "I-I mean... why don't you try Flat Ridge Rock, I thought I spotted some nice big lizards there..." "Lizards? Again?" Mrembo sighed in annoyance, "Better than nothing, I guess." Jeuri rushed to the cave he and his made a home in. "Hey, Kiume, no missions today!" "Good," the older lion glared from the shadows, "I don't want anybody to see me like this..."
____ Later that morning... The cacophony of several impatient, angered, and hyped calls made by various ungulates and birds rang across Mizimu Grove. There, they awaited the return of a certain pachyderm they placed all of their trust in, especially as of late. The crowed turned to the sound of stomping. It had been their glorious leader, Ngurumo, surrounded by an intimidating, austere crash of elite rhinos guarding him. The crowd cheered in delight. The cheering, however, gradually ceased as Ngurumo gracefully held up a hoof, preparing his rallying speech. "My fellow prey... It seems every day I hear more and more about the violent nature of our oppressive leaders after my undeserved banishment! I understand that some of you, my dear, faithful bretheren, have been caught in some of these fights these barbaric creatures keep starting amongst themselves?" "YEAH!" a few notable supporters shouted. "Ngurumo? Sir? How are you receiving this news?" asked an inquisitive Oryx doe. "I'm glad you asked." the rhino smiled. "While I stood in the outskirts of the Pridelands, where I had been mercilessly ejected to by the very perpetrators of these attacks, I was only able to hear of the goings-on of the Pridelands from my trusted, loyal tickbird, Uongo!" The bird in question smirked cunningly as he flew into the scene, as if on cue. "Now Uongo, what was it you heard these lions say about us poor herbivores?" The tickbird, who possessed a drongo-like ability to mimic voices to an uncanny level, formed shapes with his mouth to recreate voices of a few lions: "Kupatana?! -- nobody cares about that holiday!" the bird cherrypicked in Vitani's voice. "We could've had them now, then it'd be over with!" he said in Shabaha's voice, completely out of context. "Just beat 'em black and blue like the usual deal." he then said in Vitani's voice once more, and once again devoid of the true context. The ruminants gasped, as did Ngurumo. "Such violence!" he said, "The King orders bloodthirsty huntresses -- not even from here -- to form his new Guard. Not only was it such a foolish thing to get rid of his old Guard -- one that had a hippo, by the way --, but he allowed his own enemies to keep us in check, and now they want to eat us all! Siding with anything so long as they're predators, and specifically lions at that!" The crowd of herd animals yelled in disgust. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't hire my own killers. What an idiot, that Simba is!" he cleared his throat, "But anywho, I hear a few brave animals, here, fought back at the Lion Guard, is that right?" Karani screamed loud for Ngurumo to hear, and the vicious hippo that hogged the watering hole -- who was currently concussed -- bellowed proudly. "Yes, heh." Ngurumo's chuckling face became a sympathetic frown, "I, too, am saddened by the senseless attacks made on some of you by these monsters for leaders. Especially around Kupatana! A day of supposed unity! These lions have morphed the very meaning of Kupatana. To them, it's their one day of the year where they gaslight us back into trusting them, in 'the spirit of the holiday'! Bah! I say we take inspiration from the bird and hippo, and fight back! I say we take back the true meaning of Kupatana -- what it meant to all of us since before these predators came about! The real origin of the holiday..." The animals listened intently. They supposed they didn't know the old meaning of the day due to being younger generations raised under the rule of carnivores. They trusted in Ngurumo, who seemed to have knowledge of the past. "In the Spirit of Kupatana, I shall hereby declare all the herds as one! Together, with my lead, we shall overthrow this so-called 'King of the Jungle.' For your loyalty, I promise tickbirds for everyone!" The united herd screamed joyously as the tickbirds made their way to them. A few members of the crowd -- especially Kutoba, the scrappy, short-tempered Oryx -- enthusiastically rooted for the war that would rage on the coming holiday. As the tickbirds became aqcuainted with their new partners, Ngurumo chuckled to himself, speaking in a low voice that most couldn't hear: "Such easy animals to please. Anything works on them -- OW!! Not so hard, Uongo..." The yellow-billed oxpecker glared slightly as he continued burrowing his beak into the rhino's hide. ____ Afternoon... "Oh, man... it's too quiet!" Shabaha lamented, "Where's the excitement? I'm LOSING it!" "Why are you wishing for something bad to happen?" Tazama squinted. Vitani ignored her Guard as she looked and listened still. Today's patrol, so far, had been rather uneventful. No herbivores screeching derogatory remarks, no rogues hunting and marking things that didn't belong to them, all was quiet for now. Peaceful as it was, for once, the Guard was still on-edge anyhow. Though it was only natural for the former members of Zira's pride to never trust a day going too well, silence was strange at a time like this. Vitani had identified this phantom sensation as something called an 'anxiety attack', courtesy of Kiara's education on healthy ways to deal with trauma. She, and all the members of the Lion Guard suffered these, especially after this recent series of intense, violent events. She'd pondered if maybe her anxiety was unwarranted today. Still feeling like she couldn't be too sure, she proposed an idea: "Kasi, why don't you make your usual rounds and scan the area? I'm still too achey to go too far." "You wanna bet I can cover more land within the same time as last time?" "I guess we have a little time for fun." Vitani smirked, "You got until sunset." "I'll be back before the sun touches the top of Mekundu Cliffs!" Kasi was off, "Time me!" The Guard smiled warmly and confidently as they watched the Fastest dash. After moments of silence and staring, Shabaha plopped down in the grass. "Soo... now what?" ____ Though Kasi was on a timed mission, she quickly took in her surroundings as she brushed by them. She had many parts of the Pridelands memorized, showing the remarkable amount of work and traveling the Lion Guard has done for about a year, now. Feeling adventurous, and ambitious, she let her paws take her to parts unknown. Before she knew it, she'd been far on a border if the Pridelands she hadn't seen before. Feeling the grass vanish and be replaced by dry, cracked land was a sign she'd essentially left the kingdom. She was exhilarated as she felt downhill gravity make her sprinting go even faster. A huge cloud of dust gathered beneath her paws, making her feel powerful. Bordering this dry wasteland was a forest that Kasi didn't know what territory it belonged to, be it the last bit of the Pridelands, or the beginning of the Backlands. Something caught her attention, she almost could've sworn a pair of eyes and a pointed face poked from the bushes of the forest. She came to a screeching halt. "Good, I was beginning to think you were never gonna slow down." "Kelele..." "In the flesh." grinned the wolf, "Pleasure seeing you again --" Kasi turned the other way. Growling, Kelele quickly stopped her. "Don't run." the wolf relaxed her pose, "I'm not your enemy..." Kasi backed away slowly. She saw that Kelele's tail had been singed slightly from Vitani's first ever use of the Fire Roar. "You have to believe me..." Kelele urged. "I dunno, I mean you literally kidnapped a puppy because you thought he had powers..." "And it's because of that, I cannot return to the Pridelands. I've got something I've been wanting to tell the Roar-wielder for a long time." "Alright. You can tell me, and I'll see if I want to deliver it to her." "Fair enough..." the wolf grinned again as she bowed her head, "While I have come to challenge the Roar, I don't plan to exterminate it. That's not what this is about. I wish to learn more about it, and bring that information back North, where I come from. There aren't very many of us left. I want to make my small pack proud by making history that will live on in paintings and legend." Kasi listened intently. She still had her doubts, given the fact that Kelele's story sounded a tad self-centered, and it didn't at all explain why she threatened Sauti's life over it. But, then... what would the real story be if she turned out to be lying about it all? The slender lioness continued to hear Kelele out, allowing her mind to open more. If it was all a lie, she could just warn Vitani. If it wasn't, maybe it was life-saving information for all parties. ____ Over a course of hours, Kasi settled beside Kelele. Their initial rocky start blossomed into similar things they bonded over, such as a shared competitiveness and snarky, dry humor. Though, speaking of competitiveness... The Fastest's eyes suddenly caught the change in color of the sky, she glanced back to see an orange sun about to set. It looked like it was much further below the top of Mekundu Cliffs, she feared. Maybe there was still just a bit of time left. "Oh, no... I really gotta go..." "That's too bad." Kelele perked up, "Hey!" "Yeah?" "If you don't tell Vitani the things I wanted to share with her, I understand." Kasi nodded. She was unsure if Kelele's self-awareness was out of modesty, or possibly manipulation. "Fastest way back is through the woods. Less steep this way. Safe travels." The slender lioness took the wolf's word for it, eventually finding her word to be true. She wondered, if Kelele was being genuine about the way back, were her intentions genuine, too? ____ Kasi watched as the sky fell into twilight. She cringed. She knew it was long past the time she'd promised everyone. Her sprint turned into a gradually-slowing scamper as she panted heavily. She saw the Guard all bonding. Shabaha was telling outrageous hypotheticals, resulting in some of the liveliest banter they've had in years. The leader of the Guard stood up as she saw Kasi on her way. "You're way late, Kasi!" Vitani balked, "Very uncharacteristic of you. What kept you, you make new friends along the way?" Kasi's panting slowed. A piercing question that happened to be. "Maybe..." She was still unsure of her judgment in Kelele. But she could save it for now, either way... ____ ((Author's Note: This is one of those episodes where I just started drawing and THEN worked a story around it. Kasi's a hard character to really figure out so I blanked out pretty bad on her story for a good while. After all these years of trying to figure her out, I finally reached a rather meta final idea: She's supposed to be an enigma. She's blunt and comes off mysterious, but is passionate and experimental, trying all sort of crafts and adventures. Her adventurous, risk-taking side is explored here as she daringly explores niche parts of the Pridelands. I also really projected my struggle of constantly not being on time, especially times I promise/estimate to people. Fun Fact: I actually worked Kelele into this story because I'd originally planned an episode where she would find Vitani alone and try to learn more about her, but then I started getting that idea to explore the other Guard members, so I revived most of the concept and made Kasi the one who ends up stuck with Kelele. Another Fun Fact: Ngurumo's campaign scene (which would totally be a musical number) was originally set to take place in the original concept of Moral Eyes, which was originally gonna fully revolve around Kupatana since Tazama and Jeuri's bond symbolized unity and peace. Kupatana will be even more significant later Yet another Fun Fact: It's believed that tickbirds and herd animals actually do not have a mutual relationship in which the birds feed on parasites off the backs of the mammals, but rather that the tickbird is a parasite, itself, as it feeds on more than just ticks; it apparently deliberately cuts the skin of the mammals they're eating off of in order to suck their blood. We'll see how well that relationship between Ngurumo and Uongo/the herbivores and other tickbirds goes lol Lastly, to make things relevant to Pride Month despite it not being too obvious in the story, my headcanon for Kasi is that she's Panromantic/Asexual. She may or may not find a love, but that doesn't take away her attraction to others. People with romantic attraction but no actual romance going on: Y'all valid [insert "Well, of course I know him, he's me" meme here]))
32 notes · View notes
elvhenprince · 5 months ago
Text
621 words revanni and sulevin, the herald and the inquisitor, hanging out together in the time after sulevin was given the Big Promotion
After all that happened in the last few- fuck, three weeks? Maybe a bit more? Things were just. A lot.
She can't get the image of Corypheus' ugly mug out of her head when she falls asleep, and Sulevin had been helping her by actually controlling what they got to see in dreaming. Useful, having a dreamer friend like that. But he had been there with her, and just as affected, so sometimes- sometimes in the distance of the dreams, she saw that figure.
Better than seeing that mug up close though, she'd still take it.
This morning they agreed to wake early and meet in the courtyard for a bout of friendly sparring. Sometimes, just hitting things is what they needed, and especially after the entire Official Promotion of Sulevin being the Inquisitor and herself being everyone's damned Herald.
Revanni's always been able to let people think whatever the fuck they wanted, but having a whole damn group of faithful worship your ass when they didn't care about you just a year ago-
Yeah. Well. Even that's a lot for her.
Maybe it's just easier for the both of them to still see each other as just a bunch of fuckers trying to stay alive and do the right thing, because they knew each other from way before.
Sulevin was still just a very well-trained mage and leader to her. It wasn't divine intervention or anything, for either of them- Revanni's seen how he managed his clan, and how his Keeper taught him before. It's all years of training on how to keep a bunch of elves alive and away from human trouble, now applied to an entire Inquisition.
For her, it's years of being a pretty damn good merc, and learning how to talk in place of Shokrakar. She loved her merc leader, honestly, but Shokrakar's gruff and extremely direct way of talking often prickled their clients, and Revanni had to soothe things over often.
They wind down, and headed into the tavern once it's open to just drink. Shitty ale for her, passable unburnt tea for Vinny.
"Look at us," Revanni said, gesturing between them with her tankard. "Bunch of weirdos now with too much on our heads."
Sulevin just sighed, and downed his tea, shaking his head. "They do not seem to care what we say for ourselves. Whatever we do inspires more Andraste talk."
"If it helps, I've always just believed in you cause I've seen how you were like with your clan."
That drew a smile from Sulevin, and Revanni always was happy to see that. The man was stern enough most days, and he really needed to smile more. "I know. I feel the same. You and your group."
Believing in people, instead of unknown powers. That's something Sulevin had mentioned once, and Revanni felt the same.
"Hey," Revanni spoke again, after another swig of ale, "If.. this is all over, do you think we could just.. live our lives?"
"No," Sulevin said quietly. "As much as I wish to, I do not think so. Mahariel - the Warden - has not returned to the People. I expect matters may end up similarly for me."
Revanni grimaced, despite knowing that it was the only answer. "I'm gonna still try and get a vacation, anyway. You should come with me before getting into whatever other shite the world's gonna throw at us. They probably don't know what we look like somewhere, right? I'll get Dagna to make something to cover up this hand, and we can go somewhere. Maybe Antiva. We can hang out with the Montilyets, get a taste of their vineyards."
Sulevin laughed, and it's a nice sound when he actually did. "I'd like that."
2 notes · View notes
ramblinganthropologist · 1 year ago
Text
Writober 2023 11 - Wander
Summary: As the Inquisition moves into Skyhold, Kaaras finds himself wandering both physically and mentally. This is a lot to take in... and it's only going to get weirder.
He can only hope he doesn't get a dumb title like Inquisitor or something. Creators forbid.
---
Well… one thing he could say about Skyhold was that it was big and cold. Also, it was a mess. He might not have known much about living inside solid buildings, but even Kaaras had some criticisms at this point.
Mostly… the place was kind of a dump.
He was alone for the moment, exploring what was to be the Inquisition’s new home after Corypheus had destroyed their base at Haven. On the bright side, it wasn’t a Chantry building – hopefully would never be if he got his way – but on the dark side… yeah, it was a mess. Nobody had lived there in ages, so it had kind of gone to shit.
And if he, the guy who lived in aravels and in tents for his entire life could notice it, he wasn’t even sure what the people who knew more about housing thought of it.
At the moment, Kaaras was wandering through the upper levels of the Great Hall. Josephine had said he was going to have his room above everything, but it wasn’t ready yet. So there he was, walking down abandoned halls that hadn’t felt footsteps in ages, listening to the sounds of renovation beginning below.
Everyone had been relieved to find a new base after Haven… but he wasn’t so sure.
“At least it’ll fit everyone without needing tents.” Or it would once they had finished the rebuild. They were trying to figure out how much that was going to cost… a lot was his estimation, but Josephine would come up with proper numbers. No doubt it was going to take a lot – the place was made of stone in the middle of a mountain range. Getting supplies was going to be a pain in the ass.
Also, it was big. They could only hope to renovate in stages as they found their footing and maybe found the funds.
Kaaras found himself climbing a flight of stairs, laden thick with dust and debris. Tattered banners flew in the wind, covered in torn symbols he had only seen in books. None of them were Chantry related thankfully, but no doubt the faithful were dying to make their mark. He would have to put a stop to that where he could.
Not everywhere – even Andrastians deserved a place to worship – but even if they were technically a holy army he wasn’t going to brand it that way. It went against his Dalish sensibilities.
Then again, when had the Chantry ever listened to the Dalish? He might have to get… creative there.
At any rate, his feet led him to the top of the stairs. It opened to a large room with a cracked fireplace and a balcony that opened up to the mountain range. It was empty, but in time it was to be a bedroom if he followed the plan.
It was to be his bedroom if he read it right.
“So… I guess this is where they’re going to store me when I’m not annoying the Chantry.”
Truth be told, he made a terrible Herald of Andraste, and not just because he wasn’t Andrastian. What the Chantry wanted he usually didn’t, and he wasn’t exactly a great mouthpiece. No doubt Cassandra regretted ever pulling him out of the Breech – maybe they could’ve gotten someone devout to be their mouthpiece.
Unfortunately, they got a Dalish qunari who wasn’t exactly fond of Andraste. Her mabari was fine by him, though – the Fereldens agreed with him there.
Kaaras sought the balcony with careful feet, ready to jump back should it not be able to support his weight. Lucky for him and the Inquisition – maybe not for the Chantry sisters or Cassandra – it held and he was able to get a view of the surrounding mountains.
Even with the cold wind blowing from the north, it was a nice view. The mountains still held on to their snowcaps, and probably would for the entire season. Their position would be easier to defend than Haven had been, at least by his guess. He was just a demolitions guy after all – his job was to blow things up, not keep them in place.
“It’s nice enough… I just wish I hadn’t nearly died for it.”
Kaaras sighed as he rested his arms on the railing of the balcony, leaning down. Everything still hurt, even though the healers had seen to him once he had found the rest of the Inquisition after Haven. The chill from trudging through the snow half dead hadn’t left his bones yet either – he shuddered as he pulled his cardigan tighter to try and ward it off.
He would hope that would go away in time… but part of him doubted it was going to happen.
The wind continued to blow through the open room as he stared out into the snowy mountain landscape. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the night Corypheus and his forces had attacked. The fires had blazed through Haven, trapping soldiers and civilians alike. They had rescued everyone they could, gotten them out…
And then the dragon had showed up.
It wasn’t the wind that made Kaaras shudder as he backed away from the balcony. He could still picture it – smell it even, the thing was foul – dark against the blazing fires of the ruined camp. It had been a battle and a half, and in the end it hadn’t amounted to much.
No doubt about it… it had been a complete loss. They were lucky to even be alive with who they had.
“We need to build up fast in case he comes back.” Kaaras shook his head as he tried to chase the dragon and Corypheus from his memories. It didn’t work, but he tried. “Whoever’s in charge has their work cut out for them.”
Josephine, maybe? Or maybe not – she had enough on her plate as the Ambassador to the Inquisition. Leliana was more of a behind the scenes figure, true to her position as the former left hand of the Divine. Cassandra was just a no – he’d rather the long dead Cullen led them.
Hissra maybe? She was doing a good job of leading the troops…
“I thought I’d find you up here.”
The voice made Kaaras turned. Despite the cold, heat rose in his face as he saw Dorian standing by the stairs. The mage soon joined him by the balcony, choosing to go right up to the edge in order to get the best view.
“It was too loud for me in the hall, so I decided to wander and see what I could find.” He joined Dorian at the railing, giving him a healthy amount of space. “I think this is supposed to be my room when everything’s fixed, but I could have read it wrong.”
It was a bit much for him – he was used to aravels and tents. Having so much space to himself was just… bizarre honestly.
“No, I do believe this is to be your space. The leader does tend to get the best space.” Dorian glanced towards the mountains. “And the best view. It looked good from what’s to be the library, but you’ve got it beat.”
Kaaras chuckled weakly as he shook his head. “Nobody’s dumb enough to make me lead the Inquisition, I’m just the weird hand that closes the rifts.”
After all, he wasn’t a leader. He was just a demolitions guy. If not for the fact his hand could close the Breech and keep demons from piling out, he would just be another Inquisition agent. That was the only thing he really brought to the table.
“Judging by the sword I saw them dig out, I think you’re going to be quite surprised the next time you’re called to the Great Hall.” Dorian paused. “Though the name is a bit of a misnomer at the moment. It doesn’t appear to be too great right now. Perhaps we should call it the Maybe Hall until they finish?”
The joke fell somewhat flat as Kaaras gave his remarks a blank stare. Names aside… him? Who in their right mind would pick him? Who would be dumb enough to choose a Dalish qunari to lead the Andrastian holy army? It was enough to give every chantry sister and brother an aneurism at the thought.
Then again, if they were secretly trying to thin out the holy heads of the Chantry… well, he could play that game.
“I’m probably one of the worst choices, Dorian. We need a leader, not…” He gestured to himself. “You know.”
The mage shot him a blank look in return. “No, I don’t. It’s because of you that we survived Haven at all, Kaaras. You were the one who manned the trebuchets after saving so many people. Add in the fact you’re the only one able to close the rifts, and you’re a natural choice.”
But Haven had only been destroyed because Corypheus had been after him… if not for him, more people might have survived…
Kaaras sighed as he rested his arms on the railing, head low. “I’m not exactly leader material, Dorian. I’m not even Andrastian.”
“You sell yourself short on the former…” Briefly, Dorian quirked a smile. “And perhaps the Chantry needs an outsider to keep their noses clean. I doubt you’ll be eager to convert the nonbelievers and claim lands for Andraste.”
That made him snort. “Pardon my language, but fuck no.”
Proselytizing for any faith, especially one that wasn’t his own, was the last thing he’d ever do. When it came down to it, he didn’t particularly care what people believed in as long as they weren’t using it to start a campaign of terror against his people or lock him in chains. A zealot he was not, to put it bluntly.
So maybe Dorian had a point there. At least this way he could keep an eye on things.
“My, I had no idea you even knew how to use those words.” Dorian jokingly put a hand to his heart as if he had been offended. “Well, besides the volley of ‘fucks’ I heard when the dragon showed up. I think you created a new language made just of expletives.”
Kaaras felt his face heat up as he glanced away. “I mean, can you blame me? Not every day you face something like that down.”
“Oh, I was doing the same right next to you, so I can hardly judge.” The mage chuckled, a sound that made Kaaras’ stomach turn as it often did. “But really, are you going to accept when they offer you the role?”
Was he?
The thought caused him to frown as he stared out at the snowy expanse of the mountains surrounding and protecting Skyhold. The events of the last week or so were still running through his mind. Corypheus wanted him. He was the only one who could close the rifts and keep out demons.
He was Dalish and qunari in an Andrastian holy army.
“I… well, if they’re foolish enough to offer it to me, at least I can use it to keep an eye on the next Exalted March.”
Dorian patted him on the shoulder – there went his heart. “There you go. Also, they’ll probably ask your opinion on the next Divine.”
Fuck that – if they asked him, he was nominating Akri out of spite.
“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves there, but I guess it’s something to keep in mind.” Kaaras smiled slightly, still feeling his heart beat hard against his binder. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dorian.”
The mage smiled back, making his stomach churn. “Well, someone has to provide it. You could use a little more ego.”
“But if I have too much my head won’t fit through the door with my horns.”
That made them both chuckle, a sound that carried over the mountains and disappeared. Something about it made Kaaras feel warm inside, even with the cold breeze coming from the north.
He still didn’t feel like the right person for this nonsense… but he was willing to try.
“Oh, thank the Maker, there you are, Herald! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
A scout’s head appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by the rest of his body. Kaaras broke away from the balcony and met him in the middle of the room. No doubt his wandering was over for the day.
“Can I help you?”
The scout nodded and motioned for him to follow. “Lady Montilyet and the others are waiting for you outside the Great Hall. They said it’s important.”
Looks like Dorian was right after all…
Kaaras resisted the urge to sigh as he nodded. “I’ll be right down, thank you.”
The scout disappeared, their footsteps thundering down the steps, leaving Dorian and Kaaras alone in what would eventually be his quarters. Even though he hadn’t seen it, he knew what was about to happen.
Which was why he probably wanted to hide up there… but that would just bring more scouts.
“Before you go…” Dorian reached up to adjust his cardigan. “There, it was hanging off your shoulder. You want to look your best when being declared the head of a holy army.”
“Of course, it’s only natural.” Kaaras didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm as he smoothed back his hair and tightened his ribbon. “Well, time to go make a lot of people unhappy. I find I’m good at that lately.”
Came with the job, he supposed. No doubt he was going to get a lot more practice as the head of the Inquisition. He could only hope he wouldn’t get a stupid title to go with it – Herald of Andraste was bad enough.
Please don’t let it be something stupid or grandiose like… Inquisitor. He’d die on the spot.
1 note · View note
herearedragons · 1 year ago
Text
Updated Inquisitors: Aqun Adaar
Aqun is an archer artificer rogue. He's about 30 and has no canon romance. He's also half-human.
I tried to write a breakdown of his themes like I did with Evelyn, but couldn't do it. It's probably because he's one of my favorite OCs and I just have too many thoughts about him, but also because he has two story arcs (as Inquisitor and as a companion), which focus on different things.
The Inquisitor version of him commits to the role without hesitation. Out of everyone involved, he has the least personal stakes in everything that's happening and the easiest way out(the Valo-Kas are still there and very much willing to back him up if he decides to leave), but maybe that's why; he doesn't do it for an idea or because he's being forced to, he chooses to do it because it's right. The world needs to be fixed, and he can fix it, so he will. The Inquisition becomes something personal to him; he gets involved in as many things as he can, from fighting and scouting to research, and does his absolute best to ensure its success. Out of all my Inquisition PCs, he's the one that truly becomes the Inquisitor, rather than reluctantly accepting the role or wearing it like a mask.
But it takes its toll. The pressure of the role is even higher when it's personal, and it brings out both the best and worst in him. There's also the Anchor; It messes with his sleep, it messes with his aim, it nearly makes his hand slip when he's trying to disarm a trap. And, as someone who's usually very put together, who's used to control, it drives him crazy. He never placed much faith in the 'Qunari will go savage if unchecked' idea, but the Anchor, at some points, enrages him so much that he almost reconsiders that. He barely recognizes himself in these moments.
So yeah, his Inquisitor storyline is about expectations and pressure and doing your damn job and control and loss of control and... yeah. It also doesn't have much of a clear resolution; he makes it to after Trespasser (almost) in one piece, and he believes he’s done some good in the world, and maybe that’s enough.
As a companion, the pressure of leading the Inquisition is obviously not there, so his arc focuses a little more on his backstory. He’s the son of a human scientist and a Tal-Vashoth warrior, and ended up joining the Valo-Kas because nobody else would employ him because of his descent. At first he was just selling traps and grenades to them, but eventually ended up becoming a full-time member and their resident explosives expert.
In the first iteration of his companion arc, I went with the idea that he became a mercenary out of necessity and would really rather apply his skills to something peaceful, and that’s… not incorrect, but I’m going to tweak this idea a bit. Because, well, he didn’t have to join the Valo-Kas. He could just keep selling to them. Or not even work with them at all, it's not like he was desperate for money, his family runs a pretty much self-sufficient household.
So the new idea is that he ended up with the mercenaries because part of him wanted to. Sure, he enjoys building and repairing and applying his skills peacefully, but a part of him is fascinated with the destructive applications of the same skills. And then, like in the original version, his companion storyline would allow the Inquisitor to convince him to go in either direction; either stop the mercenary work and do something constructive with his knowledge, or embrace the fact that he likes making weapons, he's good at it, and there's nothing wrong with that. Both endings are good endings, and honestly even if you don't do his quest he's still going to be fine. He would also probably have a lot of dialogue about his family.
All in all, this version of him was created so that I can have a character I like in more world states, but I do like it. It lets me write about his parents (who are cool characters on their own) and let him have more casual moments and just. Not be constantly stressed.
(also, he used to have a romance with Adina(the other Valo-Kas companion OC I made), but I like them as best friends way better. And if I had to choose a romance from the main game for him, he probably has the best chemistry with Josephine, but a) I haven't played her romance so I'm not sure if the vibes fit, b) it might end up the exact same way as with Adina, with them just being BFFs instead.)
1 note · View note
usernamesuggestionsarefunny · 6 months ago
Text
That is what I thought too! That she may return (Fingers crossed, I have NEVER seen that done in a Jesus film even though it is ironically Biblical, full of potential and right there in the Bible!).
But I think that the actress leaving is the main reason for her character's death. I don't blame the actress but I totally hate it when something like that happens in any show. The character always needs to be a) Recasted like James and Philip, breaking imo suspension of disbelief, b) Die super randomly like Ramah just did, or c) Go away and barely be mentioned, making the audience question wth happened to them and why someone who was so important to the characters before isn't there anymore, cause it doesn't make sense in-world, only in the real world. So yeah, stop leaving shows midway through actors!!! (Just kidding lol, but for real, I hate it).
I know many are ok with the writing choice of her dying (Rather than recasting/keeping Ramah away from the plot through other means), but the message her death is trying to convey seems repetitive to me (Yeah, Jesus can't heal everyone because ~mysterious ways and plans are mysterious and strengthening our faith and hardship can bring us closer to God and so on~, the problem of evil and all that, we get it!!!) We already saw Simon and Little James going through the same!! The audience is aware!!
Others are going “oohh, this is perfect because this is the reason he is ‘Doubting Thomas’”, but I am like dramatically going “nooooo” because I (very personally) hate that explanation for Thomas being “doubting” Thomas. It may work for people whose difficulty with faith is related to trauma, but I relate to Thomas as someone whose doubts all over the years have had little to do with hardship and more to do with simply “intellectual” questioning (By intellectual I don't mean I am smart, though many who go through the same of course are often very smart, I mean I was inquisitive as a child and a teenager and so on, I still am, I just actively choose to have faith and trust God), and I guess I thought from a few lines here and there and Thomas's similarities to Matthew's love for logic that the show was going with the same interpretation of Thomas as that in my head. A Thomas who has logical questions and that is why he doubts, someone the average agnostic or atheist who later started opening up to spirituality again (Perhaps ALSO through questioning and doubting) could relate to, but it seems that his doubt is going to be written as more emotional rather than intellectual, coming more from the trauma of loosing Ramah than anything else. I am sure it will be very beautifully portrayed, but the potential of something different that could have been done with Thomas's characterization is lost imo
Second thing I hated this episode was Quintus's reaction to stabbing Ramah! Wth! His shock and horror at what he had done were so out of place and took the charm out of his character! He IS funny, but they are turning him into a sitcom character with how he talks tough but at the moment of doing evil he almost chickens out, or reacts as if he had. Can't we have one-single-miserable ruthless villain in this show? Who is a SERIOUS villain? Gaius is the perfect “not like the other Romans” character, and Atticus is there too, the Pharisees are complex too, with good, bad and everything in between among them, so I didn't get this directing choice of making Quintus look sad (or shocked?) about stabbing one of the people he has claimed countless times he feels little for. I get the point of Christianity is redemption, but I think showing that some people would be a lot harder to redeem or that straight-up refuse to be is important too! Don't they want “realism”?
With that said, I did appreciate Jesus's reaction and attempts to comfort Thomas. That “I love you” and “I am sorry” were very genuine.
One last thing, I think spending so much time on present drama to tackle the problem of evil is robbing the show of scenes that could have focused on Jesus spending one one-on-one time with his disciples, discussing their past hardships, traumas, sins, and so on. This could have communicated the same message to the audience, but no…
My thoughts on the end of ep 3 (don't read if u haven't seen episode 3 yet)
Well, I got a spoiler that Ramah died (but tbf it was a comment on a yt video) so it didn't really shock me that much (it was still sad tho) but, like everyone else I have some ✨thoughts✨ abt it.
When Jesus said, "it's not her time," I immediately thought that she was going to rise, just not then. There's a piece of scripture that says after Jesus died, many believers rose from the dead, and I'm guessing that she's going to be one of them. If that's the case, I think that it was a good writing decision. But if not- then it was probably for shock 🥲
28 notes · View notes
writing-in-april · 4 years ago
Text
Manicured
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Spencer finally lets Reader do his nails.
A/N: Another short cute fic here for my twenty-sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! I wanted to make it short but sweet- it’s based on this request (this is not my first fic with Spencer with painted nails- check out on my MGG masterlist Painted Nails if you are over 18) Side note someone recently stole my work- please do not upload anything of mine to another site without my permission. Feel free to leave an ask in my inbox here (I promise I don’t bite) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Nothing 🥰
Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.2k
It wasn’t often that Spencer and I had a day to ourselves, even an hour sometimes felt like a rare occurrence. Today, there was no case, no bad guys to be chasing, and there was even no paperwork to be completed. You were sat on the bed peacefully with Spencer, not daring to point that out out loud as it would obviously jinx it.
“Can I paint your nails?” You absentmindedly asked while fiddling with Spencer’s fingers in your grasp. You didn’t expect a response right away, or any at all as you had been asking to paint his nails for a while. Everytime he always said no, maybe later. So, you kept asking until he said yes.
Today seemed like a random day for him to finally agree, but Spencer tended to get you by surprise often. You almost bolted up in surprise when he simply replied, “Yes.”
Now you were sitting across from him, his hand in yours and a towel placed underneath to collect any spills. Eagerly you started immediately, already having the perfect design in mind for him. Using the brush to swipe over his nails, you then coated his nail in purple colored polish. It was his first experience having polish on his fingers.
Naturally he was intrigued staring down at you intently with his tongue slightly peeking out from his lips, like he was putting all his effort into analyzing exactly what you were doing. Just as you finished that finger he said, “This is so fascinating, you have such control over the brush.”
That had made you burst out into a fit of giggles, his tone making manicuring nails sound like the most serious thing in the world. “Practice makes perfect.” Was all you could manage to say as you tried to hold back your laughs and continue your job.
Eventually you finished his first hand, it already looked like a masterpiece to you, accentuating Spencer’s features in a striking way. He of course continued to stare down at them like he was trying to somehow see each molecule of the polish and understand how it dried on the nail so perfectly.
“I don’t think you’ll figure out all there is to know about nail polish yet by staring at it.” You said as you moved to his thumb on his left hand while he looked at his finished right.
“No, I’ll need to read some books for that.” He replied while his focus was still completely on the nails that were covered in shiny lacquer. Until he then looked up to ask you with eager eyes, “Do you have any books on it?”
“No, I don’t Spencer- I’m not a nail tech.” You laughed out once again, but found it very endearing that he thought you might have some.
“We’ll have to go to the library for that then.” Some people would say the internet would be the best bet to learn about this, Spencer always learned best by books however, and despised all technology for the most part. You then finished up with the design on his pointer finger, immediately going to the next to repeat the design on a new nail.
It was a call, of course from Spencer’s work phone, suddenly interrupted your progress on his nails. You hoped it wasn’t another case you’d both get whisked away on. He picked up the phone with his right hand, which was already completed, but still drying. Carefully with extreme precision, he answered the call and brought it up to his ear, making sure he didn’t smudge any of your hard work.
“Hello- this is Dr. Spencer Reid.” His voice had switched into his purely professional mode, while you continued to add the finishing touches to the matching design. You did make an effort to speed up the process in case he had to up and leave, though you did wish you could’ve taken your time like with his opposite hand.
“Hey- kid check who’s calling before you answer. It’s me, we have a case.” You could faintly hear Morgan’s voice come through the phone and you had to fight a groan when you heard the end of his sentence. Seems like you both were already jinxed.
“Y-yeah, ok Morgan we’ll be there in about 20.” He was now squinting down at his watch, hunched over you almost hitting your head in the process while you tried to finish up the last nail.
As soon as he hung up you were just about finished with the last little bit of your design that was a range of Spencer’s favorite color purple with some dashes of black and grey. It would certainly match most of his work clothes he normally wore, you hoped he’d keep the polish on.
“Done!” You shouted triumphantly at the last swipe of clear polish, sealing in your art. When he peered down at the finished hand curiously another pang of worry that he’d want to immediately wipe it off shot through you. “Are you- going to keep it on for work?”
He looked at you incredulously, and then completely squashed your worries with his sweet words, “Of course I’ll wear it to work, it’s perfect and- you did this for me.”
“Reid- what is on your nails?” Morgan clocked them as soon as Spencer entered the bullpen with you. He had walked in with pride, not necessarily flaunting them, but certainly not hiding them. And, when Morgan pointed them out he jutted out his fingers in pride, showing off the pretty polish that had by now dried. Though it had been a challenge for him to get all his clothes on, he didn’t end up getting them smudged thanks to you.
“It’s nail polish? Have you never seen it before Morgan?” Spencer quipped at him which seemed to have taken Morgan by surprise as his eyebrows raised up high.
Any answer Morgan could give to him was swallowed up by the giddy voice of none other than Penelope Garcia, “Oh. My. Gosh. Spencer got his nails painted!”
“Y-yes I did!” He withered a bit under the attention as he was not used to it. He bounced back quickly when he realized she wasn’t going to make fun of him.
“Where did you get them done they’re amazing?” Penelope was now holding up Spencer’s hand, and the congregation grew as more members of the team arrived to get a look at his nails. Little did everyone know who was the real artist that did them, and Spencer was happy to correct her with the real answer.
“Actually, Y/N did them.” Penelope almost immediately shifted her focus back on you bombarding you with questions on your technique. Spencer happily played a hand model, which you swore could be a career for him in an alternate universe, while you explained everything to the people around you. It was mainly Penelope who was interested, but Emily and JJ really seemed to like your color choice for Spencer saying it was ‘his color’. Even Morgan peered over inquisitively a few times, mainly when your voice jumped higher because of excitement.
“What are you all doing?”
“Looking at Spencer’s nails, Sir. Y/N did them!”
“Are you sure that’s a very professional look, Spencer?” Hitch’s hard face was difficult to read as always, you couldn’t tell if he was about to demand he take it off right away or not. He hadn’t seemed to mind when you came in with nail art on, or Penelope, you hoped this would be no different. When his lips that were almost always pressed into a thin line turned upwards you were taken aback, and even more so at what he said next, “Looks good- you’re really getting better at your manicuring skills.”
Ask Me Anything
—-
Tag lists (fill out this form to join):
Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you- check your privacy settings
All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat
230 notes · View notes
skelanonymous · 4 years ago
Text
First - Killermare
Words - 3.1k
I decided I needed more happy Killermare, even though I’ve literally written a ton of it. I should write literally anybody else next…>_>
-
Killer entered into the kitchen with a tense back, casually perusing the fridge with a wince. He’d taken a hard hit on the side during the last fight with the Stars. Probably cracked something, but nothing was falling off so he didn’t bother too much with it. His determination would hold him together.
He grabbed the carton of milk and took a swig straight from the container.
“Other people use that you know.” 
“Too bad for them.” Killer turned around to grin at Nightmare. He’d recently gotten into his Boss’s VERY good graces and no broken bones were going to keep him out of it. “Well if it isn’t small, dark, and Lovecraftian.” That got a chuckle, a rare thing to hear from Nightmare. It made his target soul ache something awful, hearing that cute sound and not being able to do anything with it, not nearly close enough to Nightmare to capitalize on the opportunity. 
“As good with words as with a knife, hmmm?” Nightmare stood in his space, touching along his arm unconsciously. Killer tried to keep his mouth in check.
“I’m also pretty good with my hands.” God damn idiot brain, hitting on his fucking god level boss. There’s fucking with people and there’s shooting out of your league. He just smiled through it. “Whatcha need Boss?”
“I’m moving a wing of the library and needed an extra pair of hands.” 
“And you knew how talented mine were, so you came right to me?” Killer slid the milk back into the refrigerator. He leaned back on his left side to keep from agitating the right, elbows on the counter, a picture of relaxation. 
“Something like that.” Nightmare laughed again. Killer held in the pleased sigh, standing up, crossing his arms behind his head very delicately.
“I’m all yours Boss. Lead the way.”
They wandered down the hall directly towards the library, Killer keeping step just behind Nightmare, letting him stare all he wanted without being caught. Those strong thick tentacles swayed around his back, framing his ass for Killer to appreciate along the lengthy hallways. He rarely went over this way unless Night summoned him here.
Nightmare already cleared small sections away, stacks of meticulously organized books littering the floor. He gestured to a pile.
“Start here and work clockwise. I’ve laid it out to make it easy enough for you to do without me babysitting your progress.” 
So began replacing them on the shelves. Killer hid the winces of pain from stooping and bending fairly well, silently moving until he hit a tiny snag. He reached up to place one on a tall shelf when he flinched into the wall.
His body hit the shelves and dislodged an avalanche onto his head. He almost moved away before one smashed into his cracked ribs.
"Son of a fucking bitch!
"Killer!" Nightmare raced over to unbury him. The tentacles made quick work of them, stacking haphazardly off of Killer’s winded form. His hands were on Killer’s forehead in an instant, checking for cracks, diligently looking over him after hearing the cry of pain. Killer groaned angrily when he was cleared off.
“Fucking Blue and his fucking blue attacks. Ugh.” Killer couldn’t sit up, pain still blossoming fresh in his chest. Night paused in looking him over.
“Were you wounded on the last mission?” His single eye penetrated his two, pinning him under it until he relented, grimacing with a gesture to his ribs he’d been carefully avoiding.
“Yeah. Stars got a good hit in on me. Was fine until the book hit it though.”
“Clearly not, considering you lost your usually impeccable balance!” Nightmare’s tentacles wrapped Killer up to get him standing without making him bend the wounded area. “Come with me. Healing magic is easiest when accompanied by intent, wrapping it will make it easier.” He grumbled and took off towards his room, Killer hobbling after to keep up. 
Walking into Night’s room changed the mood. He suddenly felt out of place, surrounded by luxurious purples tones and dark wooden furniture. Night had gestured to the bed before wandering into his private bathroom.
His bed was comfortable. Killer’s nerves ruined any enjoyment of getting into Nightmare’s room, jittery from the moment he was directed to sit on the plush comforters. Nightmare returned with a roll of bandages and an unimpressed look.
“I thought you were smart enough to know how to care for yourself.” He moved in front of him. “Take off your jacket and t-shirt.”
Thankfully Night was too focused on unraveling the bandages and gathering antiseptic to see Killer’s face go red, suddenly very aware that he was in his boss’s room, said boss’s hands about to be on him after a request to undress. He pulled them off smooth and casual, but his grin practically cracked at the edges. 
“What the hell?”
Night’s hands hovered over the cracked ribs, flinching back at the small break that Killer had dislodged from its setting.
“Yeah, it’s not great.”
“Killer!” Night growled at him. “Why didn’t you seek treatment before THIS?!” He gestured to the crumbled ends of the break from grinding against each other. “This is entirely fucking curable! It’s ridiculous you didn’t, at the very least, wrap this!” The growl travelled up his body, baring his teeth at him, tentacles cracking like whips at his back. Killer didn’t move, but his voice took on a nervous edge.
“I’m a dead man walking boss. I’ll just keep going forward until I can’t anymore.” Healing magic was taxing. All of them were terrible at it besides Nightmare, who never offered, only taking over when he was clearly needed. They never want to bother him to ask for it.
“I could’ve fixed this sooner.” Nightmare pinched the bone into place with a click. Killer gasped in pain. He wrapped it tightly, uncaring about Killer’s harsh pants while doing so.
“We only take it when you offer. None of us wanna annoy you.” Fuck, he was so falling out of Night’s good graces for this. After he worked so hard, some dumb break was gunna take him back to zero. He fisted the plush comforter. “Your time is important.”
“To whom, when you dust from accumulating injuries that I can’t see?” 
“The multiverse I guess.”
“The multiverse doesn’t give a shit about me or my time. This is all I have.” Nightmare pinched his nasal crest after finishing. “You serve me, but I cannot do this alone. Your lives are valuable to me. I thought you, especially, would know this Killer."
"Why do ya say that?"
"Because of how important you are to me." Nightmare's hands grew warm with gathering magic, mending now that everything would heal correctly. "All of you are valuable, like the supporting beams holding the castle aloft, but you are more integral. You are the center pillar. As my right hand, as long as you stand, I have faith in my ability to recover. I believed you to be my most valuable asset, but if you’re going to just let yourself turn to dust, then I’ll-”
“No!” Killer’s soul snapped into a heart shape, eyelights flickering in time to meet Night’s inquisitive gaze. “I’m not dusting on you just like that.” He grabbed Night’s warm hands away, taking them up in front of his startled cyan face.
“K-Killer?” He brought them up and kissed the phalanges as one would do to their king.
“If you’ll continue as long as I am by your side, then I’ll remain with you until I die.” Killer’s sockets went half-lidded, struck by the emotion his inverted soul let in, his silly crush amplified ten-fold by Nightmare’s faith in him. He’d never seen his boss look so confused, eye wide and frantically searching Killer’s. “What’s wrong boss?” 
“You-I’m...what’s-why all-”Killer’s hands had long since gained a mind of their own. He slid wordlessy off the bed into Night’s space, silencing him with a casual touch on the cheek, fondly caressing the bright greenish glow. 
“Shouldn’t have told me I meant so much to ya cuz I’m gunna take that to heart.” Then he swooped down to kiss him.
Killer pressed their teeth together firmly, tilting their heads to line up for deepening the kiss. He relaxed into it, holding Nightmare close while getting a taste, slowly touching and teasing Night's tongue with playful flicks. He could feel the very hesitant kiss back before they parted for air.
"Feeling shy Nightmare? Don't worry. I'm bold enough for the both of us." 
Killer laughed into the next one, leaning into it to force Night's response, groaning at the feel of the shy tongue in his own mouth. He could feel his small partner shaking in his arms when they broke apart.
"Killer…" It must've been awhile since Nightmare got with anyone to sound so needy. 
"I'm here. Wanna have some fun Nightmare?" He whispered it into Night's ear, smiling at the trembling he could still feel against his ribs, lost in the heady feeling. Night devolved to breathy pants, which Killer dove into before he felt tentacles lay solidly against his chest to push him back.
"Killer, wait, I can't-I'm not prepared for this." Night's flushed face told a different story, but he didn't fancy being killed.
"I've got lots of patience. I'll just make you feel good until you are." Killer's mouth slid down to Night’s neck, sucking on the bone to the high pitched whines, sending all his thoughts south, ecto eager to form at the slightest provocation. His haze broke under the Night's firm push out of his space. 
"Killer, stop." 
His back connected with the bed, wincing from his still (though much less so) wounded bones. The rejection stung worse.
"Sorry boss." That HURT, knowing he'd fucked up pretty royally. God, he'd forced himself on Nightmare right after he'd been given a shred of attention. He was such a fucking idiot. "I'll keep my hands to myself." His eyelights poofed decisively. He almost couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see Nightmare's face at least once.
Night hadn't stopped shaking. His tentacles attempted to hide him from view, face fully blushing, head still tilted away from the fresh mark Killer had left, noises leaking unfiltered from his trembling body. 
"S-s-sorry. I-I c-can't handle it-t. Too much." Killer grabbed his shirt and hoodie from where it lay beside him.
"I'll leave you be. Maybe annoy Horror or something, I don't know." Anything to not be here. Playing it off would make it easier to take, even if it meant no second chances with Night. He slid his clothes back on. "Come find me when you got the next mission lined up."
A tentacle wrapped around his ankle before he took the first step.
"Why are you leaving?" His voice was airy, light, breathless.
"I'm a dick, but not that much of one. I went too far, I'll give ya some space for a day." He shrugged, a drop of hate splashing on the floor. He'd describe his emotions as 'in shambles.'
"I don't want space. I just need a minute."
"I don't know Boss. Shouldn't rush that kind of thing." He could stomach taking advantage of people outside of this castle, but betraying the ones inside it, those who guarded his back and knew where he slept (and cared about but he'd never tell them that), it turned his mood sour. It ate at the pit of his stomach and it’d eat through him entirely if he didn’t get the fuck outta dodge.
"What thing?"
"Being assaulted, harassed, whatever you wanna call it. And being the person who forced themselves upon ya, don't think I should be here." He tugged at his ankle again, but Night hadn't relented.
"Killer, I didn't stop you because I didn't want it." He avoided Killer's eye roll.
"Uh-huh." Killer really didn't want to resort to cutting off the tentacle. It wouldn't hurt him, but it'd suck and prove he was an asshole, so he pulled harder. "Say I believed you. Then why?"
"Killer, I…" Nightmare looked like he wanted the carpet to swallow him. "I've never kissed anyone."
"...What?" He stopped struggling against his restraint. "There's no way. You're telling me, five hundred years of existing, and you hadn’t had your first kiss?"
"Yes." And Killer commited a cardinal sin without thinking.
"But Dream definit-" Is fucking Ink or Blue or Cross or all of them, he wanted to say, but Night was quicker.
"I am aware." Nightmare's glare was potent, but Killer's confusion was denser. "But he is lovable, unlike me."
"You're lovable." It slipped out in-between all the mental gymnastics. He wasn't sure he wasn't being fucked with still. "So you haven't…" How to phrase this delicately, he wondered. "...slept with anyone?"
"Killer, I haven't kissed anyone. Why the fuck would I have slept with someone?"
"You gotta know how unbelievable this is." Talking wouldn't reassure him, so Killer leaned down into Night's space again, stopping just shy of his teeth. "You're telling me that someone as fuckable as you's been ignored all this time?" Nightmare's single eye widened with the flush. Killer smoothed out his tone, dropping it low to hold him at the edge of his words. "Nice juicy peach you are, no one's tried to pluck you up? I can barely look without salivatin'." He lapped at his teeth, careful to keep his hands in safe places. He wanted to see how inexperienced Night really was without ruining his chances forever.
Nightmare's tentacles laid limp behind him, all the tremors coming from his real form, whose hands had raised to snatch at the shoulders of his hoodie, gripping tightly when he caved under the languid licks at his mouth by letting Killer in.
Patience led this one, Killer carefully taking over every inch of Night's mouth. The slower pace served to work up his partner faster. Nightmare's calmness abated, tentacles waking up to come and clutch at Killer's form, Night crawling onto him, transforming the kiss into a frenzy of desire that Killer surrendered to, as long as Night was leading the way. The tentacles touched plenty of hot spots, but he kept his own hands on innocent ground. Night's confidence could crumble under too much of a good thing.
"Take a breath, Nightlight." Night shivered against him after breaking apart, so much sensation his body was unaccustomed to. "I gotcha." Killer rubbed soothing circles into his back.
"I can see how that could escalate." Nightmare finally got out. It made him laugh. 
"Yeah. It's pretty easy to get carried away." He kissed the top of his skull before laughing again. "You give handsy a whole new meaning though."
"Sorry." The sweet little monster in his arms barely resembled his boss, hiding his face by burrowing into Killer's chest. 
"Don't be. It's pretty hot." His lewd grin made Night blush again.
"I would've thought my corruption would be the ugliest and most disgusting part of me." He punctuated it with said appendages undulating behind him.
"Boss, I just kissed the fuck outta you and I've never known you without it. Trust me, not a deterrent." Killer stroked down one to make Night's spine curl. "If you learn how to use ‘em right, they're pretty useful in the bedroom."
"Don't call me Boss when we're like this." Night whispered softly. His face caught between a glare and something soft, he was starting to come back to his senses.
"That might be too much power Nightlight." He grinned at the tiny glare. "How was your first kiss then?"
"Nice." Nightmare sighed as he sat up, unfurling all the aching limbs. The usual persona rebuilt itself. But now, Killer knew how easy the composure was to break. "I'd like to repeat it sometime."
"I'm all yours." He'd never get sick of that face if Night was willing to let him see it. They rose together from the floor, Night reestablishing the space between them.
"I'll have to talk to the others about not bringing injuries to me. Time spent on them is not time wasted." He straightened his sweater, presentable before opening the door. Killer choked the urge down to mess it up again. “The idea that you would’ve rather lost a rib than speak to me is absurd.”
"Yeah." They better not take his catch. Fuck them.
"I'm not going to kiss them Killer. The sour look is atrocious on you." Night's brow raised. Caught red handed. Killer laughed.
"Can you blame me? I know the kind of filthy degenerates who live here; I'm one of them. I don't want 'em to take a bite outta you." Subconsciously, he shook his sleeves to feel the weight of his multiple blades.
"You act as though there are many vying for my affection. People used to throw rocks at me for walking by their homes, and now they try to kill me. I'm not surrounded by suitors." He said this while walking down the hall towards the still upturned library. His strides were confident, power inherent is his manner, carried with a royal grace that Killer could only ape with minimal success. The only reason he wasn't swamped with competition was everyone had been too chickenshit to make a move. 
"Ya also thought I wasn't interested and nothing has ever been less fucking true." He pushed his luck a little further, stepping in front of Nightmare to kiss him quickly. The chaste thing was almost too much considering the shakes. "I'll just keep doing it if ya don't say anything."
“We need to reassemble the library.” He huffed through, walking by with weak knees, Killer trailing just behind. “This wasn’t an invitation to touch me at all times.”
“Only some of the time then?” 
“Shut up.” He humored the request once inside Night’s treasured library. 
Back to quietly organizing, clockwise, his talented hands flipped them onto shelves with ease now that he wasn’t hindered by aches. It was quick and effortless like it should have been the first time. He’d begun humming by the time he placed the last one, not expecting the hand on his shoulder but welcoming it as he had earlier the same day. Night silently pressed something into his palm.
“I trust I don’t need to explain.” Killer’s fingers closed over the silver key, smiling and spinning it on his pointer while leaving the now neat library. Guess his league was a lot wider than he thought. It wasn’t an invitation to his bed, but the invitation to his heart was just as good.
“Gotcha loud and clear boss. See ya soon.” 
-
They CUTE.
272 notes · View notes
crevassier · 1 month ago
Text
It barely started and he already feels annoyed.
“Look, I don’t know what’s up with everyone in this party, but if we’re here to find out who the devils are we have to talk about who we met and be clear about it. Keeping it vague only makes you look like you have something to hide.” Why was it so hard to just say things? Dimitri also kept his own explanations vague in the beginning when Sylvain had asked about their encounters.
He still grabbed a cookie though. Perhaps he did feel a little bit hangry. The fact that not only they had to deal with devils but the houses themselves only handed out one piece of candy each also felt rather frustrating. 
Get it together Sylvain, this is going to go nowhere again if you keep this up, he reminded himself before taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, let’s do this the right way.” Golden hues watched both his companions warily. He had dismissed Yunaka’s initial comment- yeah he looks like shit, he knows, he doesn’t know to acknowledge it, but he does at the very least offer her a thankful nod for the cookies.
“In the first round, I met a dark knight, a young mage and a-...sun idol.” He adjusted his posture slightly, gaze still focused on the eyes of the other two. “On the second round I met that same young mage, a moon idol, and…well, you.”  A tilt of the head towards Senno. “I ended up with at least one devil on each round, and…”
He hadn’t done much investigating there, did he? He’d have to go by feeling alone. 
A hard task when one had to push through truth hidden behind layers of bias. Ginger brows pinched into a frown. “The young mage is innocent, I think. I don’t feel like Ewan had anything to hide.” Despite his initial talk with Dimitri, he chose to have faith in Ewan after all. “If anything, I’d say he would’ve been a carelessly stupid devil if he were to trick or treat with the same person twice in a row. He’s fine in my book.”
As for the rest…”I don’t…think Prince Dimitri has it in him to do something like this. He’s an awful liar.” But at the same time, would he be underestimating the potential of his liege by defaulting to this conclusion? He knew Dimitri, yes. But it was undeniable that Dimitri wasn’t one note and could very well possess facets he doesn’t show to the world. Much like Sylvain himself. “...I did notice how he kept his report to me a bit vague when I asked him who he met, though. I’d think he’d keep better track of who he had been walking with considering the purpose of what we’re doing.”
But that too was something he had been disproved, wasn’t it? His whole ordeal with Dorothea. How he seemed to trust that girl more than he trusted him. How-
Sylvain grit his teeth, eyes averting to the bubbling soup in the cauldron. Whatever it was it smelled rancid and artificial, horribly sweet, but at the same time in an almost numbing fashion. 
“The sun idol is deceptive and I know she’s capable of lying freely if it suits her.” A short pause. “On the other hand…I really don’t think the moon idol is a devil. There’s not much I can say about him but I just don’t think he’d be capable of doing this. He moves slowly, and his eyesight is really bad on top of it all.”
And the last of his list, Sylvain shifted his eyes to Senno and sparked a small smile. Devious perhaps a tad inquisitive. “What about you, Senno? Anything you have to say to defend yourself? The two people I hung out with last time are two people I know well enough to absolve them. You, though…”
@dcggersedge
all trouble, no toil
toajuicy2024 | round 3
36 notes · View notes
moonlightlullaby · 4 years ago
Text
just like magic
Tumblr media
summary: Reader has a card up their sleeve, leaving Spencer intrigued, flustered and impressed.
pairing: Spencer x gn! non-BAU! Rossi’s offspring!Reader
category: fluff 
A/N: this is one of the first gn!reader pieces that I’ve written, so please let me know if I’ve slipped up somewhere!
word count: 2.5k
No sooner had I opened the glass door leading to my dad’s “humble” backyard than Henry’s and Jack’s fresh and joyous laughter filled my ears and warmed my heart. The sight that accompanied it only adding to my gleeful state, making my heart soar and melt instantly.
Spencer Walter Reid, the bright young Doc who I’ve known - and had a patent crush on - for nearly six years now, is entertaining the kids with a magic trick. I can’t help the smile that splatters on my face as I watch the scene unfold.
“Here, angelo mio.” my dad caresses my back as his other hand offers me a glass of wine. I take it and we clink our glasses together before making our way to the cozy wooden picnic table where his other colleagues are chatting. On our way, I go off-track and get closer to the sweet magician and adorable kids. “Hello, boys!” I extend my free hand, high-fiving both of them as they harmonize a “Hi” back to me. At Spencer, I flash a smile and wink and, without waiting for his reaction, I turn around and soothe Jack’s hair as I begin distancing myself. 
“Oh what a sight for sore eyes! Y/N, you look fantastic! As always I mean…” in her very own manner that never gets old, Pen is the first to greet me, clapping in excitement and giving me a home-like hug. “Oh please! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” she waves her hand and rolls her eyes in a way that tells me both to stop tooting her horn and to keep the compliments going, making me giggle. ���And I’ve said this before, but I’ll do it again. You need to show me where you’ve bought these rings, P.”
“Oh! I have an idea,” JJ chimes in. “we should go shopping tomorrow!” by the time she finishes her sentence, I - along with Penelope, Prentiss and Tara - am nodding my head fervorously. “I’ll take you up on that one.” Em voices what all of us are thinking.
“I mean, unless a case pops up…” JJ drags it out, contorting her lips. “We won’t,” Hotch reassures everyone. “these past two weeks have been hectic and we all have overworked ourselves. You deserve the weekend off.” to which Derek, Tara and my dad, in sync, raise their glasses.
“So, ladies,” Derek hugs me, grinning. “where are we going tomorrow?” 
“We? Oh my chocolate thunder! Much as this pains me,” Pen places a hand over her chest to fuel the scene with more drama. “you’re not invited.”, which earns gasps and scoffs from him.
I lean my head on his shoulder, giving his hand two taps. “Yeah, Derek. Sorry,” I turn my face to him. “but, how are we supposed to have boy talk with you there?” the girls nod along in agreement and he smirks. 
“Boy talk, hun?” 
The thing is, Derek - much like every other person in the team... well, almost everyone - is well aware of my not-so-subtle crush on his oblivious friend and he never spares me some teasing. Thankfully, before he can take his teasing any further, I’m saved by the bell - and by the bell, I mean Henry and Jack. 
“Y/N/N, Y/N/N!” knowing how much I love magic, Henry starts pulling me towards Spencer, giving me only a second to hand my glass to Derek. “Look at this! Spencer, do it again, do it again!” 
“Yes, show Y/N the cool trick!” Jack says energetically after waving me over.
Spencer smiles at me, giving us a small nod, and turns his back to us to prepare himself for the show. I sit crisscross next to the giddy boys, feeling thrilled myself. “Alright,” Spencer turns around, observing his audience and clasping his hands together. “are you ready?” 
“Yes!” we eagerly respond in unison. 
“Y/N, I know you’re very fond of magic yourself.” I hum in agreement. “So, are you familiar with th- oh! Wait,” he furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, scanning my face for a millisecond. “what is this?” he steps closer to me, kneeling slightly and reaching for my face. The boys get more agitated and giggle. “This what?” I look back and forth between the magician and them, who immediately cover their mouths trying to conceil their giggles and to keep any secrets from escaping. “Excuse me.” Spencer mumbles before placing his hand on the side of my neck. 
This simple gesture - a shy touch, a brief moment of intimacy - is enough to make my heart skip a bit, and I’m sure Spencer notices the sudden change in my pulse because his gaze momentarily leaves the side of my face to my eyes before travelling back to its original spot.
“This.” suddenly, I feel a ghost-like touch on the back and side of my neck, and, ahead of me, all I see is Spencer pulling an endless thin colorful - scarf-looking - cloth. I can’t contain the laugh and loud snort that escape my lips, inciting the boys, Spencer and even the grown-ups over there to burst into laughter as well. 
By the time the entire cloth is out, my belly and cheeks ache and a tear is found in the corner of my eye. “Impressive, Doc! Very impressive as always.” he grins in return.
“Your turn, Y/N! Do a trick too, please” Jack suggests - well, orders basically since he knows I wouldn’t ever turn it down - and is backed up by an eager “yes!” from Henry. 
“Oh you also do tricks?” Spencer sounds less surprised that I do than that this fact was unknown to him. 
During some of my nights as Henry and Michael’s and/or Jack’s last-minute babysitter, I had to, in spite of how sweet and obedient they are, resort to desperate measures, such as magic tricks - some of which I’ve learned with the sole purpose of entertaining them. To Spencer, however, I’ve never had such opportunity. Not until now.
“Well, not as entertaining as yours, I’m sure, but yes.” I stand up, wiping bits of grass from my bottom.
“Umm, ok, I have a new one to show you, guys. I just… You wouldn’t have a deck of cards and a pen to lend me for a minute, would you?” 
“The pen, I don’t. The deck of cards, though,” he searches his pockets, pulling a standard - and well cared for - deck. “here.” he hands it to me.
“Thank you very much.” I cursty theatrically.
Jack runs back from God-knows-where with a black pen in hands. “Here, the pen. My dad said you could borrow it.” 
“Oh great! Thank you, Jack, and thank you, Aaron!” I raise my voice slightly at the end, nodding my head at Aaron and giving him a tight-lipped smile, which he mirrors.
“Okie, okie! Let’s start, shall we?” the boys exchange expectant glances and Spencer tilts his head, studying me and probably trying to predict my next moves. Hopefully, this will work. It’d be a shame failing in front not only of the boys - who, I’m sure, would never let me hear the end of it -, but also of Pretty Boy himself.
I shuffle the cards a little bit and open it, making a sort of fan with it and letting the faces and numbers face the ground. “Alright, boys, pick one card but don’t show it to me.” they both put their index fingers on the same card. “You can take it and let Spencer see.” the man standing to my left follows along and takes a peep at it. “Now, I want both of to draw whatever you feel like on it, ok? On the front.” 
As they take turns putting their art on the card, I turn to Spencer, who’s already got his curious eyes on me. “Be patient” mine tell him and he takes a sip of his wine.
“Done!” Henry looks up at me.
“Great, you can put it back on the stack then,” he does so. “Ok, now, to prove you I’m not cheating, Spencer’s going to shuffle the cards.” I hand them to him. “However you want and as many times as you wish.”
Once he’s done, I take them back. “So, now, I guarantee you the first card I show you is the exact one you’ve picked. Ready?” They nod along and I double-tap on the top of the stack. “Alright. This,” I lift the first card. “is your card.”
They immediately shake their heads negatively and my eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” Feeling Spencer smirking behind me, I turn the card to take a look at it. It really isn’t the one. “Shoot!” I exclaim disappointedly, sighing.
“No, no, it’s ok... It’s ok.” I quickly recompose myself. “The next will definitely be the right one.” with my eyes closed and my nose scrunched, I circle my free hand above the deck as if drawing in energy and conjuring magic. Double-tapping once more, I pull the card up, still not looking. 
When I open my eyes, I’m met with the boys’ scrunched noses and mischievous eyes as they, yet again, shake their heads no. “Oh no…”
This time, Spencer doesn’t even try conceiling his chuckle and has the audacity to comment “Oh, Y/N, you were too harsh on yourself earlier. This is much more entertaining than that little trick of mine.”, eliciting giggles from the kids. 
“No…” I pout. “Guys, have a little faith in me, please.”
I close my eyes and bring the cards, sandwiched between my palms, closer to my ear in an attempt to hear the magic somehow. “Oh!” I open my eyes. “Guys, come check this out!” with that, I pike their curiosity and they scoot closer to me. I turn the deck over, so all fronts are facing upwards, and open it completely. “The card is not here!” Henry gasps, noticing that their five of diamonds is missing. The boys take the cards from my hands and I fumble my fingers in the air as if trying to sense where their card is, humming in the process. 
“Ummm Jack, is there anything behind Henry’s ear?” The boy looks at me inquisitively and reaches for said spot. 
“Oh here!” he nearly shouts, pulling the missing five of diamonds and showing everyone. However, before anyone has the chance to celebrate my small victory, the absence of drawings on the card is brought up, shocking our spectators. “Where are our dinosaurs?” 
“Hey, Y/N, I hate being the party pooper,” ‘party pooper’? Coming from Dr. Spencer Walter Reid? Oh, this is news! “but it seems like you’ve just mixed two tricks and neither of them has worked.” Again, both boys laugh at it - at me -, siding with him.
“No, no, no! See, the thing about magic,” I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, gesticulating like the good Italian descendant my dad’s brought me up to be. “is that it requires a lot of concentration to work, and when you don’t focus enough on it, like I might have, it gets lost… Not completely lost, though! Uh, if we put our hearts to it, we can still find your dinosaurs, ok?” I crouch. “Can you help me out on this one?” I plead and extend my hands to them. They nod their heads and take my hands, we form something close to a circle, closing our eyes and letting magic speak. 
“Uh-oh! Oh, guys, I feel something!” 
“What is it?” and “Where are the dinosaurs?” are immediate and simultaneous reactions.
“Ummm, Spencer.” I turn to the man trying to contain his laughter at the scene that unfolds before his eyes. “Hm?” he tilts his head and raises his brows slightly, still smirking.
“Is there anything in your pockets right now?” 
“Aside from the silks, no.”
“Are you sure?” I tilt my head, contorting my lips a bit and squinting my eyes with curiosity, which he mirrors. He’s intrigued. Mission accomplished - I mean, not completely accomplished yet, but a success nonetheless.
“Well, you can check for yourself.” he opens his arms a little so I can inspect the inner pockets of his blazer. The right one is empty as expected. In the left one, my fingertips meet the colorful cloth and nothing else. 
“You’re right, Spencer.” I sigh “Only,” I start pulling the cloth out “the,” it’s now in the kids’ view “silks.” gasps and wows come from our audience. I turn to the two wide-eyed boys who are now rushing over to grab it from my hands. 
“How did you-?”
“It worked, Y/N! It worked!”
“This is so cool!”
I giggle, feeling Spencer’s baffled gaze switch between me and the dinousaur-printed cloth. I also hear applause coming from the rest of the team and a “they’ve beat Spencie at his own game! You go, love!” from the one and only Penelope Garcia. Glacing at the man in question, I catch him mouth agape, dazed eyes, and a smile threatening to take over his lips.
“Y/N/N, Y/N/N, can I keep it? It looks so pretty.” at this, I smile softly, shrugging a bit as I respond. “Well, it’s Spencer’s…” the three of us turn to the Good Doctor, who, pulled from his trance, nods vigorously and wets his bottom lip in the typical Spencer Reid style. “Yes. Definitely, Henry.” 
As the boys cheer, my dad, from the doorstep, catches everyone’s attention. “Dinner is ready, family.”
Strolling back to the house and quickly side-hugging JJ on the way, I sense a quite desperate, puzzled tall individual hot on my trail. In a breath, he catches up and starts walking side by side with me, causing me to smirk.
“How did you-” 
I don’t let him finish the much predictable question. “Oh, you don’t actually want to know the answer, Spencer.” while we cross the doorstep, I look at him from the corner of my eye, catching - once again - him already eyeing me. He opens his mouth before closing it and raises his hand before dropping it. In sympathy, I continue. “But, in case you do find yourself desperate for it, there’s something in your right pocket that might be helpful.” I can’t help smiling as the last words come out. And, without giving him the chance to question or ramble like he always does, I walk over to the dinner table, settling myself between Hotch and Tara.
As I sit down, I catch Spencer on the same spot I’ve left him, blushing as his brain processes - or at least tries to - what’s written on the little note. He quickly - yet carefully - folds it, puts it back in its original place, licks his lips once more - I wonder if he’s aware of how often he does that - and walks to the table. Our eyes lock and he smiles, in a slightly nervous - or is it excited? - way, taking his seat right across from mine.
Truth be told, Spencer’s known my number by heart for years now for I am my dad’s emergency contact. However, I was never the one to give it to him, just like he’s never been the one to call me. Hopefully, now that I’ve changed the former, the latter will also change.
117 notes · View notes
imjusthereforbatfam · 3 years ago
Note
Okay, I saw that you like Dragon Age too, and I gotta know, who do you think Jason would romance???
Oh ho ho~💕
My dear Duke (Kansas??), you have come to the wrong right place.
Gonna put a Keep Reading cut here because I know myself and I know I'm gonna go crazy with this BUT LET'S GO!!!!!!
Canonically, we've seen that Jason is generally attracted to intelligent, independent women who can (and would) kick his ass. The people he's attracted to also tend to compliment his sarcastic sense of humor — whether that's being sarcastic themselves or just responding to it with the right sort of beat.
So I think for the first game it's pretty safe to say he'd romance the HECK out of Morrigan. However, I also think he'd be a little charmed by Alistair, too, and would do a second playthrough as female Warden just to see what that's like. (I think sweet Alistair's total swooning devotion might be a little hard for Jason to take at times, but it's such a pure love I think he'd ultimately enjoy it.)
For DA2, it gets a little trickier.
My initial thought is Isabella, for the same reasons as above. Also because I think he'd really enjoy her "I do what I want when I want, with whom I want" attitude. The man drinks his Respect Women Juice all day every day. But I can also see him really connecting with Anders and Fenris, too.
I don't know if he'd actually be able to complete a romance with Anders though, because I feel like he might eventually get a little too uncomfortable with the parallels between the two of them — becoming a nearly completely different person thanks to a traumatic event (Anders: hosting Justice/Vengence vs Jason: murdered & coming back), being literally overtaken by blind rage (Vengence vs pit rage), the willingness to "go too far" and the backlash that follows, etc. I think this is especially true if he's already completed the game before and knows he's eventually going to have to judge Anders's life for his crimes. Idk I just feel like it might overwhelm him?
I think he'd immediately be intrigued by Mr. Ripped-a-dude's-heart-out-of-his-chest-with-my-bare-hand and I do think he'd enjoy brooding and being pissy/dramatic with Fenris, but I'm also not sure he'd finish out that romance either. Namely because Jason tends to be The Dramatic Broody One and him being with another Dramatic Brooder feels like it might eventually... idk I don't want to say it'll fizzle out, but I do think he would have more long-term investments with someone a little more grounded/lighter than him. Also when Fenris leaves him in Act II?? idk if he would get over that... Maybe but idk
For inquisition... dear god, I have no clue.
I feel like he'd wish he could romance Vivianne because she just oozes confidence, intelligence, and a sense of being in control of her destiny in a way that I think he'd really be attracted to. But alas.
Maybe Cassandra because she definitely has the "I can and will kick your ass" vibes and is a tank of a woman. I feel like Jason has a weird relationship with faith though, so her constant Maker talk might not be great. But at the same time, he really likes loyalty so maybe he'd be inspired by her devotion 🤷 When he finds out she likes reading trashy romance novels I think he'll initially scoff but find it endearing.
I don't know if Dorian is usually his type as far as men go – I see Jason liking guys who are a little more laid back – but I can see him really enjoying his sense of humor and loving the fact that he's a bookworm and researcher so he'd being willing to try it out. Ultimately, I think he would really enjoy romancing Dorian because the man's a total nerdy sweetheart under all that dramatic sass like Jason and Jason would like the feeling of being the one Dorian trusts to fully let his guard down with.
hmm... yeah. Actually, now that I think about it some more, I feel like once he romances Dorian for that first time he'll become Jason's go-to L.I. for Inquisition.
Anyway! What are your thoughts? Agreements? Disagreements?
I'm curious to know! 🥰🥰🥰
21 notes · View notes
a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years ago
Note
I'd love to see your take on Cullen's recovery arc as an alternative analysis! I feel like we're only ever presented with the two options of: "he needs to atone!" Or "he was a victim that needs protection!", neither of which I've ever fully agreed with. I think it's a result of the lack of attention given to his arc in DAI, which leaves a ton of room for interpretation, and results in people swaying towards either camp depending on how sympathetic they are towards him and his history.
I totally agree with this. 
The problem with the way Cullen is presented in DAI is that he’s presented in an unambiguously positive light, and as @tokutenshi pointed out in this post (which I do agree with) if your Hawke was hostile to him you don’t get some of his dialogue about questioning Meredith. Additionally if you side with the mages rather than the templars Cullen has some realizations about the Order that you’re not going to hear. It’s too little too late for a lot of people, though I would also argue with what tokutenshi said, he was severely traumatized after the Blight (if you take a female mage Warden in the tower during the Witch Hunt DLC you will get lines that indicate he is suffering from PTSD, notice the lines about him being “twitchy” and “jumpy”) Personally I think we can find a middle ground between Cullen being a victim of manipulation and indoctrination, someone who suffered after experiencing trauma, and someone who works hard in the moment to do some good, whether we can or should call it “atonement” or not. That being said, he does acknowledge in Inquisition that the war against Corypheus is his chance to atone, and he works overtime to the point where it’s commented upon by several characters including the Inquisitor how hard he works.  
By the time we meet Cullen in Inquisition a couple of years have passed since the chantry’s explosion. This is where I will be critical of the writing because I do think the game should have better established what exactly Cullen was doing in the time in between, though we get bits and clues from dialogue if you pay attention: He served as Kirkwall’s knight Commander after Meredith died, and he and presumably Aveline’s guard worked to basically repair the city, as Rylen says in Griffon Wing Keep that there was a lot of rubble, a lot of people without homes. Cassandra noticed Cullen’s work and recruited him to the Inquisition. (Also, keep in mind that the Inquisition was originally going to help quell the worst excess of the mage and templar fighting, restore order because the chantry lost control. Then the conclave happened, it went boom, and suddenly the Inquisition’s purpose became far greater than anyone would have expected. So Cullen as Cassandra���s choice of Commander makes total sense to me, considering he was a former templar and bringing him in basically acted as a symbol to any wayward templar, letting them know that there could be another way. But I digress on that part, haha.) 
I *think* some people are dissatisfied with Cullen’s “redemption” arc in DAI because we don’t really see him fall on the sword or beat himself up for his past. There’s also no moment where he like, faces a mage he maybe knew in Kirkwall or has to deal with the mages not trusting him. Obviously of course there is nuance there as well as Toku and I mentioned--he wasn’t allowed to heal as much as he should have before being shipped to Meredith. However, here’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if you pick the right options after Perseverance if you tell him he doesn’t need lyrium:
Quiz: The man you were. You can’t pretend like he never existed.
Cullen: Not even if I wanted to. But I’m here now. I can make that mean something.
Cullen knows he screwed up. What’s more, he doesn’t want to forget he screwed up. But he lives in the moment to make things right. Blackwall’s arc actually shows him falling on the sword and wanting to atone, versus with Cullen it’s implied he has come to terms with his screw ups off screen. He doesn’t continuously beat himself up, he does what he can for the Inquisition to the point where if the Quiz tells him to go back on lyrium for the better of his soldiers, he does, knowing it just may kill him. There is also limited dialogue that challenges his views which turns some people off, but I know for my Inquisitor she’s very much about the now and what they both can do in the now. I won’t blame anyone who wants to be able to challenge him more, but frankly I find the fact he doesn’t continuously fall on the sword or beat himself up interesting. 
All that being said, I do think of his arc as more of one of recovery versus redemption. And to be frank I’m kind of critical of the term “redemption” and what makes good redemption arcs or not. Someone having a “redemption arc” seems to imply that there’s only one road to the top of the mountain when maybe redemption is something you should always strive for? But as for the “recovery” arc: the chantry, IMO, purposely devoids both mages and templars of a personhood or life outside the order and Circle and treats them as objects. Many templar recruits are children and are basically indoctrinated to believe they serve the Maker and they are needed and that they do the Maker’s will. There’s an interesting bit of dialogue you can get if your character is a warrior and talks to Cullen about the templar spec, basically if the Quiz says “templars serve the Maker, I’d do the same.” Cullen basically replies, “uh, yeah, that’s not going to make you righteous, believe me,” implying this was the way he once indoctrinated to think, but he no longer believes it so. Templars are given lyrium for their abilities, but also to placate them, something Alistair says in DAO. 
After Kirkwall Cullen sees where the Order is going, gets an offer from Cassandra and decides that if he removes the “part that kept [him] chained,” he would find his own purpose again. (He says this is your Quiz makes him take lyrium.) In Inquisition we learn he always wanted to protect people. (Our local mind reader Cole says “some templars want to only protect, like Cullen” if you ask him about templars.) And as a kid living in rural nowhere Ferelden, he saw the templars as protectors. Why I interpret his arc as more about recovery than redemption all has to do with Perseverance and the way you as the player can handle it: You can either let him know he can start over, he can endure and one day find a life of his own away from duty and battle, or you can make him take it and thus let him remain indoctrinated to what the chantry taught him, that there is nothing outside of duty and battle. It comes down between a choice of “you are leashed to what the chantry made you till you die” to “you are more and you can recover and make your own life,” which he does do by Tresspasser, romance or not. At the end of the game if you keep him off lyrium he basically thanks the Inquisitor for giving him a chance, letting him know he could be more. Additionally, a lyrium free Cullen in Tresspasser speaks of meeting his siblings again, developing a relationship. If you make him take it forever he refuses to see them. 
I could also see the arc as one of faith, and finding it again. If you keep him off lyrium the prayer in the chantry he speaks is one of quiet reassurance and finding strength through his faith, but if you make him take it the prayer is “blessed are the peacekeepers” and it’s uttered desperately as if he is trying to believe it. He also mourns how far he fell. All this to say that I find it very interesting his writer focused his personal quest around the lyrium and what lyrium represents rather than say, him meeting a mage who lived in Kirkwall or something and him trying to atone to them.  
When I wrote my post about why Cullen gets so much fandom related wank I got a lot of different responses that echoed the same thing about Cullen’s arc not getting a lot of attention. I think there is a lot of good writing there with his personal quest,  but his writing doesn’t fill in every single gap---not to mention people are going to have vastly different experiences on how they played the games till Inquisition. And my examples of dialogue are things you may not get if you don’t pick the right options. And heck, some people only have played Inquisition. 
So, I think me calling his arc in Inquisition a recovery arc has partially been not me trying to justify why I like him, but analyze a differing way a character who has screwed up in the past is written. Blackwall’s arc is a true redemption arc IMO. Cullen’s isn’t so clear cut as a redemption arc, but at the end of the day it is truly about him finding his own purpose again, which leads me to lean more toward calling it a “recovery arc.”
200 notes · View notes
nonstop-haikyuu · 3 years ago
Text
The Ending He Deserved (JJK imagine)
I’ve recently been reading the manga and rewatching the anime with my roommates and because of this, I realize that I’m still not over them killing Junpei so this is the fic that remedies that awful decision!
Tagging @haikyuufairy and @concussed-to-pieces! I love you both, kisses
WC: 2.3k (ignore the shitty ending, I’m tired)
“Junpei run! Run and use my phone to call Nanamin! Please just get out of here!” Yuuji shouts, tossing his phone at the shorter boy. Junpei gives a frantic glance over his shoulder at Mahito, a brief moment of hesitation filling his head before the pink haired sorcerer shoves him down the hallway. He frantically races down the corridor and stumbles his way down the staircase as he scrolls through Yuuji’s contacts in search of the person named Nanamin.
He hits the dial button and seconds after pressing the phone to his ear, a gruff voice answers, “Itadori-kun, you better not be at the high school after I specifically told you to stay with Ijichi.” Junpei draws in a sharp breath and blurts out, “Please, you have to hurry, I think Mahito is going to try and kill Yuuji, please I don’t want him to die!” The man on the other end gives a sigh, as if he’s unsurprised by the young man’s defiance, then replies, “I’ll be there in two minutes. Please keep yourself hidden from the curse.”
The phone falls silent and Junpei hurries into a storage closet, holding his breath while the fighting on the floor above continues.
Minutes, maybe even hours pass and he’s tempted to peek out of the space to see if the battle between Yuuji, Mahito, and the stranger has come to an end when footsteps come closer to his hiding spot. He freezes against the wall as his shoulders shake with his panic. What if Mahito had killed the two sorcerers? Does he run? His Shikigami is weak after it’s small spat with Yuuji and truthfully, he’s not sure if he could even stand a chance against the curse.
A soft knock sounds at the door and he clenches his eyes closed. If he didn’t move or make a sound, perhaps Mahito would look elsewhere. But the person knocks again and it dawns on him that the long haired man wouldn’t bother with such niceties. He pushes the door open and sure enough, Yuuji and a stranger stand on the other side, both looking ragged.
He blows out a deep breath and crashes into the pink haired teen with a sob. Itadori returns the hug with a pat to his back, chiming, “I’m really glad you’re okay, Junpei.” The stranger glances around the hallway then states, “We should get going. There’s no telling whether that curse is going to come back or not. Gojo should also know what happened here.”
Junpei’s eyebrows furrow together at the unfamiliar name then the man turns to the teenagers, introducing himself as Nanami Kento, a grade one sorcerer. Itadori leans in close and mumbles, “He doesn’t let us call him Nanami-sensei, so Gojo-sensei and I call him Nanamin. You can too.” The two begin to walk down the staircase but Junpei stays still, tears trekking down his cheeks. They pause at the sudden sound of sobs then turn to face the young man, as Yuuji asks, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“You- you’re just going to take me in? Just like that? I almost killed you! A-And I was working with a curse! Isn’t that against your rules or something like that? Taking in someone that was trying to kill one of your students?” Junpei cries out, stumbling to his knees.
The sorcerer gives a small sigh and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, before he explains, “From what I understand, Mahito compelled you to use your cursed technique to get revenge for your mother and punish the ones that tormented you. You’re just a scared, confused child who doesn’t understand the power that he’s been given. As a Jujutsu sorcerer, it is my job to help you gain a better understanding of your technique and how you can use it for good. But of course, the final say is up to the principal and he’s taken in a lot of children like yourself.”
Junpei sniffles at the explanation Nanami provides then Yuuji urges his friend to his feet, chirping, “Besides, I’m possessed by the King of Curses and you don’t see them turning me away! How can they say no to you?” Junpei leans into Itadori’s side and they continue to walk downstairs until they arrive in the parking lot where a dark haired man stands next to a car.
The man begins lecturing Itadori about the dangers of confronting Junpei after Nanami had specifically forbid him from doing so, only to pause when he noticed the older teenager standing behind the sorcerers. He glances at the grade one sorcerer with a questioning look, only for the blond man to give a small nod of approval.
The thin man slides into the driver’s seat then asks, “Are we going to see Gojo-san and the principal?” Nanami takes the passenger seat and confirms the driver’s thoughts.
-
“My my, another second year? How exciting!” Gojo chirps, leaning forward with a bright grin. The principal maintains an unreadable expression then turns to Nanami, asking, “What do you think? Will this boy turn on us to help the curses?”
The blond removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes as he answers, “Truthfully? I don’t believe he will, considering that it was a curse responsible for placing one of Sukuna’s fingers in his home and it killed his mother. Once he understands that, I truly think that he will never want to be near another curse without exorcising it.”
The principal glances at the two teenagers slumped on the couch, curled underneath a blanket, then sighs as he asks, “Well, Gojo, do you think you can take on another student?” The white haired man’s grin widens then he exclaims, “Of course I can! Yuuji is a quick learner and Megumi and Nobara are in the safe hands of our trusty second years for another month! By what Yuuji says, Junpei learned how to use his cursed energy to create a jellyfish shikigami powerful enough to poison an entire gymnasium of people in just a matter of a few days. I think he’ll make an excellent addition to the group!”
Masamichi pulls out the pile of paperwork for Junpei’s transfer into Jujutsu Tech and warns, “Fine. But you two are in charge of them. Make sure that they don’t see the other students until the Sister Event, do you understand me?” Gojo salutes at the order and chimes, “You got it, boss! I promise I’ll get them into tip-top shape by the event!”
-
“Um, Gojo-sensei, are you really sure this is the way we should announce Yuuji still being alive? After all, it’s almost been two months.” Junpei asks, fixing the collar of his uniform. The white haired sorcerer pouts at the teenager’s question then whines, “Awww, Junpei, do you really think that your sensei’s idea is a bad one?”
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure Nanamin advised you against this method too.” the second year reminds the man as Yuuji hurries around the room in search of his uniform shirt. Gojo shrugs and replies, “Ahh, come on, Junpei, have a little faith in me! It’s gonna be great!”
Junpei should have known better than to have trust in Gojo’s ridiculous plan. They approach the groups of teenagers with Gojo pushing the box containing an excited Yuuji and his sensei begins handing out gifts to the Kyoto sorcerers, before turning back to his students.
Megumi and Kugisaki tilt their heads at the appearance of Junpei but before they get the chance to ask who he was, Yuuji bursts from the white box with a shout, grinning at his friends. Judging by the look on their faces, Junpei could tell that this plan had indeed not gone the way Itadori and Gojo had been hoping for.
He settles beside the panda as Megumi and Nobara continue to grill Yuuji about his death and why he had been gone if he had been alive all this time. The brown haired girl smacks at her friend’s shoulders, shouting, “Stupid, stupid, I can’t believe you let us think you were dead! I’m never forgiving you for this!”
Fushiguro begins to fill Yuuji in on his own anger, but Maki, the second year with glasses, claps her hands together and snaps, “We don’t have time for this right now. You guys can yell at him later. We need to figure out our game plan now that we have Itadori and Yoshino. So, what can you two do?”
All eyes shift to Junpei and he glances to the floor as he murmurs, “I control poison shikigami. I’ve gotten really good at controlling the dosage so I can either slow a person down or exorcise a curse completely.” Surprise spreads throughout the room and Inumaki, the Cursed Speech user, says, “Bonito flakes.”
Panda nods in agreement (though Junpei wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to) then replies, “Yeah that’s true. Itadori, what exactly can you do?” The pink haired teen turns towards his upperclassman and replies, “Oh I do hand to hand mainly.”
The second years stare at him for a moment then seem to share a silent conversation among the three of them, before Maki gives a definitive nod, instructing, “All right, it’s settled then. Itadori, you and Yoshino will take on Todo. Since you can poison people, you can slow him down and Itadori will take him completely out of the game. Nobara, you're going to take out Nishimiya. Panda, handle Mechamaru. I’ll handle Miwa and Mai. Inumaki, find the curses and kill them. Megumi, I want you on Kamo. Understand?”
Nods of agreement go around the room and they begin to disperse, only for Fushiguro and Kugisaki to call Junpei back into the room. The second year turns on his heel and Yuuji gives an inquisitive look over his shoulder, only for the older teenager to wave him on, insisting, “It’s okay, I’ll catch up.” He settles back in a chair and waits for one of the first years to begin the conversation that he’s sure they’ve been brewing over since he and Yuuji arrived today.
“How did you join Jujutsu Tech?” Megumi asks, clearly cutting to the chase. Junpei sighs, realizing that Gojo had neglected to tell the first years (and likely the second years) about how he came to join the school. He fidgets with his fingers and explains, “I came in contact with a curse who taught me the basics of cursed energy and techniques. He tried to convince me to join his ranks but Yuuji found me and convinced me to come with him. The principal and Gojo decided that since the curses killed my mom, they could help me out.”
“Why didn’t you come to training with the other second years?” Nobara asks, crossing her arms over her chest. He scratches at the back of his neck and replies, “Truth be told, I’m not exactly sure but I’m guessing it’s because Gojo and Nanamin didn’t want to make it seem like I was replacing Yuuji.”
The two nod in understanding and she begins to ask another question, only for Maki to enter the room again, demanding, “Oi, it’s time to go, you can do Q and A later!” The two first years jump to their feet and exclaim, “Right, Maki-senpai!”
Junpei truthfully isn’t expecting much from this Todo guy. Megumi explains that he’s the one who’s hair is shaped as a pineapple and he snickers at the reminder before Panda suggests, “If you’re not scared of heights, you should hide in one of the trees where you’re somewhat close to the ground but not too high. Nishimiya flies on a broom and has a hell of an eye. The longer you can stay hidden, the better it works for Itadori and in turn, us.”
He nods in understanding and as the bell goes off, he hurries to the closest tree that’s full of branches and leaves aplenty. The plan he and Yuuji had devised was that the rest of the team would separate, drawing Todo to their position. He watches from above as Todo and Itadori begin to fight hand to hand and he waits for the signal of Megumi’s wolf before he releases the poison. A howl fills his ears and he summons his shikigami, one large enough to surprise Todo but small enough to prevent attention from Nishimiya.
As he prepares to have his shikigami strike at Todo, the scenery changes and soon, Yuuji is surrounded by the rest of the Kyoto students. Junpei tenses at the sudden change in the atmosphere and realizes that this was not a fun little competition for these country people, but they seem to have murderous intent. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out quickly, realizing that it was Megumi on the line. He hits the answer button and rushes out in a whisper, “Targets sighted. I think they’re trying to kill Yuuji.”
The first year groans, clearly calling to deliver the same news, then Maki is on the phone, ordering, “Poison them all. We’ll be there in a minute.” Junpei allows his shikigami to grow larger until the plumpness of the jellyfish bursts through the trees, revealing itself. The students whip to face him and he shouts for the shikigami to strike now.
The blue haired girl slashes at the tentacle with her blade, only for another to plant in the meat of her thigh. She stumbles with the pain of the poison and the dark haired girl, Mai, draws a gun and begins to fire at the shikigami. Junpei clasps his fingers together and presses his thumb together tight, to make the jellyfish translucent. She curses at the sudden disappearance of the shikigami and the long haired teen, Kamo, if memory serves Junpei right,  hunches over at the sharp jab of the tentacle.
Chaos continues to ensue as Maki and Megumi appear in the opening, slamming into their targets with blunt forces and other shikigami.
With a grin, Junpei realizes that this school was like no other. And he couldn’t wait to see what else it had in store for him.
43 notes · View notes