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#...and everyone else just to lesser degrees
umilily · 6 months
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sometimes i'm scared that i've been this way for so long that i don't know how to be anything else anymore.
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ziracona · 2 years
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Not every character has to be beloved; some of them are supposed to suck
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The Crew of The Normandy SR2 (2185)
They tell me it's a suicide mission. I intend to prove them wrong. Mass Effect 2: Legendary Edition (2021)
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aerynwrites · 7 months
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Lovers Embrace
Halsin x afab!reader
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A/N: I finally have an excuse to use the shirtless Halsin gif and I couldn’t be happier lmao. But yes - sex pollen/potion fic at your service 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Smut, sex pollen trope and all that comes with it, accidental consumption of aphrodisiac potion, reader has female anatomy, PiV sex, oral (female receiving), nudity, unprotected sex, fluff.
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The only sound filling the tent is of the pestle grinding down into the mortar. It’s uncharacteristic for the camp to be so calm and devoid of sound, but most everyone else had agreed to Karlach’s idea of a jaunt into the city to spend the rest of the day at the Elfsong Tavern.
They had tried to get everyone to go, but Halsin chose to stay back and you followed suit - both because you won’t ever say no to some alone time with your partner, and because you had also wanted to stock up on some potions.
Which is where you are now - you’ve already got a good batch of lesser healing potions brewing and you’re currently working on a potion you found a recipe for, which just seems to be an amped up version of the greater healing potion while adding in a stamina aspect as well.
Halsin had left not long ago to look for a bit more of one of the ingredients, since you’re working with the last of what you have. Just as you finish preparing the ingredients, the first batch of the trial is done.
You look over the instructions one more time just to double-check that everything you’ve done was correct before taking the vial in hand, appraising your handy work.
Silently, you wish there was a better way to test potions rather than trying them outright, but if something were to go awry, you know Halsin isn’t far.
The potion is tinged red like the other healing potions, but held up to the candlelight, you can see that it’s slightly purple as well. Most likely from the stamina portion of the potion.
Slowly, you bring it towards you, carefully sniffing the concoction. When nothing seems off, you finally place the vial against your lips. The liquid is warm as it hits your lips and spreads over your tongue, and you automatically notice a difference in taste.
The other healing potions taste medicinal in nature, not at all pleasant. But this is…different. Sweeter. It’s more rich as well, coating your mouth and throat in a syrupy thickness as you consume it.
You pull the vial away from your lips and stare at the empty glass curiously before glancing down at your hands. You’d been sparring with Lae’zel earlier, resulting in bruised and split knuckles - the perfect way to test this new potion.
Except…they’re still there. Even after you wipe away the dried blood, the minor injuries are still present. Quickly, you set the vial off to the side and look back to your notes. Maybe the potion has a delay in effect, or takes longer than usual?
However, after reading over the notes several times, one particular phrase leaps off the page.
Effects are immediate.
So why isn’t it working?
You move to look over the ingredients once more, but stop as you reach for them. Your hands are shaking. Badly. And not only that - it feels as if the air in the tent has risen several degrees, a cold sweat breaking out along your skin.
Oh fuck.
Did you just poison yourself?
You move to stand but the world sways, mind foggy as a wave of…something rushes through you and settles low in your belly. Your knees almost buckle beneath you as something all too familiar clenches in your core.
“Halsin!” His name is falling from your lips before you can even stop it, not even wondering if he is in ear shot to hear you.
Panic is settling in now, fear of not knowing what you consumed or what it’s going to do to you. You stagger towards the tent’s entrance, pulling the flap back just as your partner does the same.
He stands before you, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “I heard you call out as I came back into camp. Are you alright, my love?”
You shake your head, wanting to tell him no, you’re not alright, when your eyes land on the bundles of plants in his hand. Confusion fights its way to the front of your mind as you reach out to touch the plants.
“What is that?”
Halsin looks even more concerned now, “It is what you asked me to gather for the potion you are working on. Is it not?”
You shake your head, turning back to the desk to pick up the last stalk of belladonna you have before showing it to Halsin. “No, I needed belladonna, I-ah-“
Another wave of, what you now realize is pleasure courses through you, finally bringing you to your knees. But Halsin is quick. His hands catch you before you hit the ground as he gently lowers you both to your knees.
His concern is palpable now as he looks from you to the plant in your hand, and finally to the empty vial on the desk. His grip on you tightens.
“That is not belladonna,” he informs you, pulling away to show you what he gathered. “This is.”
“Then what…what is this?” You choke on a gasp, curling in on yourself. “What did I drink? Am I…Did I poison myself?”
Halsin quickly reaches over you to take the papers from the desk, scanning them over quickly. His eyes widen slightly before he lets out a soft sigh, eyes falling shut tightly.
“You did not poison yourself, my heart,” he tells you, causing a slight sense of relief to course through you.
However, any relief is overshadowed by the aching need now flowing through your veins. And Halsin’s presence just seems to make it worse, his smell invading your senses, his presence calling to you. You try to shove it away.
“Then what is happening?” The words are a plea on your lips as the pain starts to bloom in your belly, gnawing into your very bones.
Sensing your discomfort, Halsin speaks quickly, tossing the things aside in favor of taking the plant still gripped in your hand.
“This is Lover’s Nettle. It’s a rare plant, so I am surprised you stumbled upon it.” He reaches over you again to trade the plant for the empty vial on the desk, sticky purple residue still stuck to the glass.
He takes a small sniff and his lips quirk upwards ever so slightly. “It seems you accidentally created an aphrodisiac potion, little one - a potent one at that.”
Embarrassment wells up in your chest, almost strong enough to overwhelm your other senses. “I…what?”
Ever attuned to your emotions, the druid takes your face gently in his hands, turning your gaze towards him. “I have encountered what I believe to be this same elixir in the days of my youth. They called it Lover’s Embrace, as I am sure you can see why-“
“Halsin, you know I love you, but please-” Your plea comes out in a whine. “Is it harmful?”
Halsin smiles at you, that all too familiar twinkle in his eye. “No, my heart, it will not harm you. But it does tend to cause great discomfort until one’s…baser needs are met.”
“What?” you gasp, “why would someone create something like that?”
Gently, not wanting to rush you, Halsin readjusts and tugs you into his lap. The new position has you straddling his lap and places you slightly above him so the usually taller man has to gaze up at you for once.
“For many reasons, but the most common is just for pleasure’s sake - it was very common in brothels in the city to increase one’s pleasure during their time there.” Halsin’s voice is low now, his hands tracing patterns onto your back and making it even harder for you to stay focused.
“Although, the potion was meant to be consumed by both parties, but…” he’s leaned in now, lips brushing your jaw as he speaks. “It seems you’ve taken enough for the both of us.”
His words, his lips, the way his hands caress you, it all comes together to snap that final tiny string of restraint you had left. Turning, you capture Halsin’s lips with your own, your hands coming up to fist in the material of his shirt as you finally let the potion take over.
Gods, you want him.
You always want him, but now…you feel as if you’ll shatter into a million fragile pieces if he doesn’t touch you.
Halsin, always attuned to every part of you it seems, quickly obliges your silent thoughts. Large hands run from your hips up your sides, rucking up the fabric of your shirt as he does until, eventually, he slips his hands beneath the piece of clothing. They’re warm, as they always are - but now it feels like they’re on fire, scorching a path on your skin as he moves ever upwards, fingers trailing delicately along your spine.
“Halsin.” His name is a plea on your lips as you pull away from the kiss, forehead falling to rest against his own. “Please…”
His lips land on the corner of your own before trailing down to your jaw and lower, stoking the flames even more, until he finally moves to tug your shirt over your head - separating you both for just a brief moment before his lips are on your skin once more.
“Tell me what you need from me, my heart. State your desire and it is yours.” Halsin’s voice is low, almost a rasp as his lips brush over your neck, stopping there to suckle the skin sweetly, teeth barely grazing before moving lower.
His hands never cease their movement, both steadying in ther strength yet infuriating in the way the flit about, never staying in one place for too long and never seeming to touch you where you want him most.
A gasp slips past your lips as his thumb brush just below your breasts, and you squeeze his shoulders sharply. “Just…touch me, Halsin. Kiss me, touch me, fuck me just- please-“ Your words end on a moan as he places a particularly sharp bite to your shoulder. “Just do something, anything.”
Faster than you can blink, Halsin has you on your back beneath him, the furs that make up the tents floor soft beneath against you.
“Careful, my heart,” Halsin warns, voice low. “Your presence alone tests my control, but with words like that I cannot promise I will be able to contain it.”
You fist the fabric of Halsin’s shirt in your hands where they rest on his sides, trying to pull him impossibly closer from where he hovers over you.
“Then lose it,” you gasp, rolling your hips up into his own in search of some - any kind - of friction. “I just want you, I don’t care how. Just, please…”
That word, the one that’s already fallen from your lips several times tonight, finally reaches the man above you. His mouth is on you as soon as he hears it and you don’t bother to fight back the sounds that fall from your lips as he starts a path down your body.
The heat that started after you drank the potion feels like molten lava beneath your skin, and Halsin’s lips are doing little to douse the fire. Teeth scrape at the tender flesh of your chest before moving lower, as if he’s as desperate to touch you as you are.
After what feels like an eternity, his nose brushes the waistband of your pants, and before you can so much as think about begging, his hands are already taking them off, taking your underwear with them.
Halsin is an experienced and thorough lover, typically drawing things out to give you both the most pleasure possible. Tonight, however, he must take mercy on you. Because the moment your trousers are tossed to the side, his mouth is on you.
You almost come right there, the second you feel his tongue on you, drinking in your arousal. It’s like electricity shoots through you, and you can’t suppress the cry that falls from your lips, your hands shooting down to tangle in his hair.
Thick fingers dig into your thighs, keeping your hips pressed to the floor and his lips against your center.
You can’t stop writhing against him as his tongue presses against your clit teasing that bundle of nerves as one hand starts to slide downwards, fingers slipping through your folds to press against your entrance.
“Ah, Halsin-“ His name is like a prayer on your lips, begging him to keep touching you, afraid of what will happen if he doesn’t.
Your lover praises your plea with action, finally pressing two fingers into your warm heat. Normally, he would have to work you up to this, but with how wet you are and what you assume to be the work of the potion, he faces no resistance.
Immediately, stars erupt behind your eyes, and you are catapulted off the edge. Your climax comes on so suddenly it steals your breath away, your back arching upwards as your body fights to get closer to the source of your pleasure. It’s as if the potion has made every nerve ending more sensitive. Euphoria washes over you, and Halsin coaxes you through the tumultuous waves, lapping at you until you feel there’s nothing left.
It feels like there is not enough air to fill your lungs as you lay panting on the floor, a pitiful whine escaping your lips as Halsin pulls his fingers from you.
You watch through half-lidded eyes as he licks your spend from himself before your head falls back onto the soft furs.
Warm lips press to the inside of your leg before traveling upwards again, leaving barely-there kisses to your hips, then your stomach, then upwards still. His slow ascent gives you just enough time to gather your senses once more, just enough to realize that it’s still there.
That need. The fire beneath your skin. Even if it’s slightly dulled, you can feel the flames growing once more.
Halsin presses his lips to the valley of your breasts, then your collarbone, reaching your neck before you can gather enough words to speak.
“Gods,” you groan, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, a breathy chuckle brushing over your cheek.
“I told you it was a potent mixture,” he says, voice full of amusement as he settles between your thighs.
It’s then, as you struggled to pull him closer, that you realize he’s still fully clothed. You paw at his shirt, your arousal growing hot in your belly once more.
“Off.”
Halsin can’t help but laugh again, kissing away the frown that tugs at your lips.
“As my lady commands.”
In a flash of that all too familiar druidic magic, his clothes are gone, leaving him blissfully bare above you.
Despite the need coursing through you, you can’t stop the way your eyes trail over him. The muscles rippling in his shoulders as he adjusts his position, the dark hair dusting his chest, the way his hair falls over his shoulders as he gazes down at you.
Taking his face in your hands, you lean up to capture his lips in a desperate kiss - one he returns eagerly.
He dips lower, his forearms resting beside your head as he moves to press flush against you. A moan escapes you, his body fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel him, hot and heavy against your core, can sense the way he tries to restrain himself but fails as his hips rut against you.
Halsin pulls away from your lips, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he presses his forehead to yours. You watch the slight grimace in his face as his eyes flicker open and a flash of gold overtakes them before disappearing.
The beast.
Gods, if you weren’t desperate for him the way his now, you’d tell him to let go. Beg for him to devour you like you know he’s able. But you don’t, instead you wrap your legs around his waist as fingers dig into his back.
“Halsin please, I can’t wait another moment, just-” A whine escapes from your throat as he rolls his hips again, teasing your clit as he pressed harder against you.
“Take me.”
He needs no more encouragement, lining himself up before thrusting into you in one fluid motion. Your body gives way to him with ease, taking him to the hilt in one thrust that pushes the air from your lungs.
You dig your heels into him, begging him to move as words escape you, a request he complies with eagerly. His thrusts are firm, and soon he’s built up a steady rhythm that brushes against that devastating spot inside you each time.
His head falls to the crook of your neck, kissing just below your ear and nipping the delicate skin with blunt teeth.
“I am not ashamed to say I have fantasized about this,” Halsin breathes, voice ragged as he continues to move against you, arms slipping beneath your shoulders to wrap you in a snug embrace.
“I imagined what it would be like having you like this beneath me, writhing and needy just as you are now.”
His words spark something within you, increasing the pleasure pooling in your belly and forcing a moan from your lips again. “Halsin…”
He lets out a groan of his own at the sound of his name on your lips, and suddenly your world is spinning as he hauls you up from the floor. He’s on his knees now, you in his lap as he continues to thrust up into you, arms wrapped securely around your body to keep you pressed flush against him.
The new angle allows him to press deeper, sending shocks of pleasure that have your fingers tingling and toes curling as you sag against him.
A firm hand settles at the back of your head, cradling it gently as his lips brush your ear.
“But in my dreams, it’s not just you who’ve consumed the elixir. Instead, we both indulge.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek, arms tightening around you as his thrusts become more frantic and that familiar coil in your core starts to pull taut.
“The potion works as it’s designed, making us crave each other to the point of lust-addled passion. The craving is so strong that all control is lost and there is nothing but pure pleasure as we claim each other.”
Gods, his words are pure fuel to the fire within you, creating images you don’t dare to push away. Fingers dig into his back, your nails no doubt leaving marks on his tanned skin as you cry out.
“Halsin, please, I’m close, I-“ A strangled moan leaves your lips as one of his hands works its way between your bodies to tease your clit.
“Come for me, my heart,” Halsin says, his voice a whispered command against your skin. “Let me hear my name on your lips once more.”
All it takes is one more press of his hips for you to obey. The coil snaps and you are falling once again into unadulterated bliss, Halsin’s name flowing from your lips like a mantra.
He works you through your climax as he chases his own end, a few more harsh thrusts before he’s filling you with a groan, then going still against you.
Slowly, ever so gently, he leans forward, laying you amongst the furs before following suit.
You wince slightly as he moves away from you, but quickly settled into the arms he offers you, cheek against his damp chest and one leg thrown over his own as you press against his side.
Exhaustion tugs at every part of your being, but despite being blissed out and spent, you can still feel that smoldering ember in your belly, unsure if it is the pleasure still waning or the potion waiting to be flamed once more.
“Is it…how long does it take for it to wear off?” you ask softly, tongue heavy in your parched mouth.
Halsin hums and you can feel the vibrations against your cheek as he reaches up to place a hand against your forehead.
“You are still running hot,” he observes before dropping his hand to rub soothingly up your arm. “This particular mixture does not wane quickly,” he tells you, a tinge of apology in his voice. “It may be well into sunrise before it completely leaves your system.”
He smiles then, an action you see solely because his words cause you to look up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. “That long?”
Halsin laughs, nodding and pulling you against him again. “It is a powerful concoction. However,” he pauses, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “it is gracious enough to give you brief respites. So, sleep now, my heart, and when the tendrils of desire pull you from your slumber I will be here waiting.”
Your eyes are already slipping closed as he speaks, your limbs resting heavily against him as he holds you close.
And as you drift off to sleep you can’t help the eagerness that stirs in your chest for what awaits when you wake.
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@daedriclys
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c4n1d43cup1d · 3 months
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Some hogcanons. notes (me rambling) under the cut
So silver was the reason i wanted to make this in the first place despite him looking the most on model (not entirely obviously, but i don't have many hcs for him). Mostly i wanted to draw his height compared to the other hedgehogs since him being freakishly tall despite being younger than sonic and shadow is funny. I saw someone say hes probably the most conventionally attractive hedgehog and i think that's true, hes a pretty boy and his fur/quills are really sleek and well maintained. The fluff on his chest is less spikey and more fluffy looking plus i put some fluff in his ears as well. I think his paws and nails are black and he doesn't wear eyeliner his lashes are just really long and hes got black markings on his eyes. Coming back to this after writing Amy's desc but i think hes genderqueer in some way idk maybe bigender i need to study him under a microscope some more every character i touch becomes transgender
Sonic has a few more added details, i like giving him a little nick in his ear and top surgery scars because that hog is trans. I haven't really seen many people give him stylized top surgery scars surprisingly, i tried to make his look kind of lightning bolty because uh something about him being fast. idk man. i think i imagined its similar to what itd look like for him to run in a zigzag? whatever i think it looks cool. I think his claws are kind of uneven and he doesn't really care too much about how they look especially since he just has them under gloves most of the time
Amy is fat because i said so, also i gave her wavier quills and heart markings everywhere. Her ears might look a little strange since it like implies her skin is making that heart shape but i imagine thats her fur spiking into the point. Her nails are painted the same red that shadows markings and stuff are mostly because i think them being besties is cute like. i see shadamy as a queer platonic relationship. Theyve always been my favorites im going to to make them as close as i want. Anyway, i think she and sonic are tied for having the shortest ears, and hers are the rounest (might make them even rounder the next time i draw her) also not entirely related to her design but i think shes transfem and genderfluid.
Shadow my son. im taking custody from black doom and gerald. anyway, i have the most headcanons for him because he is my absolute favorite guy ever he rots my brain. I think he and Amy are the same height, his rocket shoes are like platform/heels and so when he has them on he looks like Sonic's height or maybe a teeny tiny bit taller. I give his quills extra little spikes for no reason other than i think its cute, i could bullshit that its a black arms thing but idrc. What are black arms things though are his eyes and claws, his scelera is a more yellow compared to everyone elses (jaundiced as my friend put it. thanks endy) and i didn't draw it but his pupils are slits. Claws are long but are even longer when all the way out (retractable) his gloves are thick enough that he doesn't pierce them but he probably has a few spare pairs. Also not pictured but black arms related: his teeth are fucking razors, larger than the other hedgehogs and also serrated because i think thats cool. his tail is the longest out of all of them though i think it used to be longer but was lopped off in the name of science and never properly grew back. also his inhibitor rings are connected to a sort of device that does the task of being a proper gateway between his internal energy and the rings themselves, i didn't draw them but essentially its like a smaller ring that is embedded into his wrists i think. also hes trans but in a sort of alien way, i think the black arms can do the clownfish genderswap thing and shadow has it to a somewhat lesser degree its like an internal tshot i guess idfk
ok yeah thats all if u made it to the end thanks for reading the ramblings of a mad man
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princessfroslass · 3 months
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I was just hit out of fucking nowhere with huskerdust angst and I can't stop thinking about it so:
Ok so, as shown in the last bit of Poison, Vox helps Val with his.....things using his technology (all the cameras pointing toward Angel's balcony) and now that Angel started to act up, I doubt Valentino will be happy to just let him out and do whatever he pleases.... The same with Alastor on a a somewhat lesser degree, now that he had been humbled, I don't think he would like to have his "pet" to have any funny ideas. So both Angel and Husk get progressively more overworked- Husk basically LIVES behind the bar, even after everyone else went home, while Angel starts coming home later and later.... It's also the time they start an sort of relationship thing. Y'know because they started to bond over their misery in the first place and all.
So picture this: one night, when BOTH Al and Val let them do whatever for a night- they decided to go out for once, in a actual date. And it's all fun and games despite random creeps catcalling Angel every five minutes, he brush them off and if they get too close welp- you can guess what happens with an trigger-happy and an protective demon at the equation lmao but overall, they have fun....until Angel notices that the cameras Vox stocks everywhere are following THEM, and now he is suddenly walking far away from Husk, constantly checking his rapidly arriving messages.... And eventually, starts to accept the *ahem* offers of the demons that wave cash at his face, feeling Val's eyes on his, but most importantly, Husk's back more than usual.
Husk is obviously, at first, a bit hurt by this. I mean imagine that in your first actual date your boyfriend starts going full "Gimme a sec!" And literally blows someone else at the nearby corner- not cool. But he is also perceptive enough to notice the quickly building stress and legit fear coming out of his partner- and that is when they realized that, until their souls are theirs again, the Hotel is their only real safe place, and even then it's extremely limited.
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eastern-lights · 3 months
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Ok so we all know how amazing Baldur's Gate 3 is. I could talk for hours about everything it did perfectly.
But rn, I want to talk about what I think Dragon Age Inquisition did better. And this is not to judge which game is better overall, but what still makes DAI so special to me despite its flaws.
1. Voiced protagonist
Yeah, starting off controversial. I know some people prefer silent protagonists, but I just find myself wishing we could have a fully voiced Tav, even at the cost of fewer dialogue options. I'm sorry, but Tav's silent indifferent face just always breaks the immersion for me, especially when contrasted with the award-worthy acting and animation of the characters they're speaking with. In DAI (and DA2, although to a lesser degree) your character could be heavily customized, but they were always an actual person who fit in with the rest of the universe and flowed seamlessly with the story.
2. Mystery and dread.
BG3 is full of heavy, scary, traumatizing stuff hidden all over the place (or in plain sight). But it can always be explained in some way. There are dreadful things in Faerûn, but we always know what they are (mostly due to most of them having to have precisely given stats as the result of being based on DnD). We know what happens after death and what we can do to bring people back from it. The closest you get to truly dread-inducing mystery in BG3 is "Do Illithids have souls" and "where do illithids come from" and (at least in Act 1) "who is the Absolute".
In Dragon Age, the whole world is made of existential dread. What happens when you die? Dunno. Is God real? No idea and if He does, He hates you. What is the Blight? Are all darkspawn capable of independent thought? What is lyrium singing about? What happened to the titans? What happens when all of the Old Gods die? And this is just the Big Questions. There's a myriad of small things, small mysteries you encounter that just have no answers. Stuff that reminds me of those creepy Goldshire children forming a pentagram in World of Warcraft. While having an explanation for everything makes for deeper worldbuilding, a world full of mysteries without answers makes for a much scarier and, in some ways, exciting experience.
3. Group dynamic and party banter
I enjoyed the party banter in BG3. Hell, it had some of the funniest lines in game. But it didn't do enough to make the group dynamic feel any less Tav/Durge-centric. You hear the companions exchange banter, but you never get beyond stuff like "Karlach and Shadowheart both enjoy wine" and "Gale enjoys Lae'zel telling him about the Astral plane". The protagonist forms amazingly written relationships with each of the companions, but they never seem to have such a bond with one another. The closest we come to what I'd like to see is Karlach and Wyll's friendship, but even that's kind of shallow, I feel. The companions do comment on the others' personal quest, but it's always one sentence reaction, before going right back to being mostly indifferent. DA2 had the same issue, if to a greater extent (srsly, the companions had the same attitude about one another over the span of 10 years)
The banter in DAI was superb. It told a story. It had arcs. You could watch in real time as Solas and Dorian became friends over their shared magical nerd-dom. You could even take part in it, such as when telling Blackwall to stfu about jousting for a moment, or telling Sera that what you and Solas do in private is none of her business. You could see Dorian and Bull fall in love. You could watch Varric slowly chip away at Solas' worldview until he arguably came closer to changing his plans than Lavellan ever did. The relationships grow over the course of the story and by the time of Solas' betrayal, you're not just sad because he betrayed you, you're sad because he betrayed Varric, Dorian, Bull, Cassandra and everyone else. Because you saw how they cared about him, each in their own way.
There is nothing more heartbreaking than Varric's "Chuckles, what have you done?"
In BG3, the relationships are mostly left to your imagination, which has its perks, but still, the group dynamic feels more like a wheel with Tav at the centre rather than a web.
4. Having limits on the romance options
Let me start by stating what I am not saying: I am not saying that bi and pan people shouldn't be represented. Far from it. But I don't think making the whole group pan is the way to go about it. I can't help but feeling it is, in a way, pandering to players, making every single companion interested in them as long as they have a sufficiently high approval.
Making some companions explicitly bi, pan, gay or straight made for a more real experience. Getting rejected by Sera on the grounds of "We have a lot in common - we both like women" felt disappointing, yes, but also real. This also allowed the writers to make the characters' sexual/romantic preferences a part of their, well, character. We got Dorian's personal quest, which I think is great. Limiting Solas' options to just Lavellan allowed the writers to make it about him realizing that his people are not mere shadows. It allowed them to write the Vallaslin scene. None of this could have been done if he were romanceable to all races.
When you have diversity in romantic attraction among the companions, suddenly the pan and bi characters (in Bull and Josie respectively) feel like their orientation is part of who they are, rather than a game mechanic to prevent players from missing out on content.
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cerastes · 11 months
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Would you happen to have recommendations for good, all purpose or simply just worth it 5* operators to raise in Arknights? For someone who has levelled none of them except Amiya, Cantabile, Kroos, Rockeock and Shamare
Going into detail for each and everyone one of them is unfeasible but let's start with the ones I consider really, really good and would always recommend:
Specter - Strong laneholder with self-sustain, best immortality staller in the game for the longest time and still arguably is, benefits from long-term investments in the form of Abyssal Hunter buffs, can be pseudohelidropped with S2M3. Very high HP lets her deals with Arts damage better than in-class equivalents.
Texas - Good DP generator with crowd control and above average damage. Extra starting DP from talent can enable entirely new openers, especially in endgame content. Not exceptional in anything, very reliable in just about any situation to open maps and cover light lanes.
Blue Poison - Strong AA Sniper with constant minibursts and ability to thin lanes thanks to multihits that don't compromise her single targeting, making her a tactical tool that circumvents Taunt to some degree until you can deploy your actual solutions to the Taunt source. Has one of the most famous M3s in her S1, with a charge of 2 attacks.
Warfarin - Versatile unit and easy M6, a lesser known property of her S1 heal is that it is instant, meaning she's a very reliable healer to keep someone under heavy damage alive. Rare Attack Up buff for others, which is what most people know her for. Good SP cycling and can help charge others' SP with her Talent.
Lappland - Best Silence-user in the game, as well as a solid, reliable unit in most maps thanks to her multitarget and Arts damage. You'll hear people claim she's fallen off or some other lie. She is still very solid outside of her Silence (which comes back into relevance every other Thursday anyways).
Ptilopsis - Strong, low investment unit, does not need Masteries at all in order to perform, powerful constant strong heals with S2 and has the best universal Skill Aura Talent that will speed everyone's SP charge by 30% just by existing on the map.
Elysium - One of the best utility units in the game, easy M6 with great SP production, DP reduction and ASPD buffs for Snipers, and a very strong S2 that reveals invisible units, reduces their speed significantly, and gives them a DEF debuff that stacks with other debuffs.
Cantabile - Lightweight assassin that can produce DP per attack while assassinating. Has a short timer to redeploy, so she can be an on-demand miniburst on a troublesome boss or lane, while making DP.
Any of the two Berries, Honeyberry or Mulberry - Handles Elemental Damage buildup, Honeyberry centers more on Elemental Damage, Mulberry has stronger HP heals, both are great. Honeyberry came free with your XBox, no excuse not to raise her. They also have very useful wide ranges that allow for unique safe set-ups.
Projekt Red - Lightweight assassin that can be used as a stunbomb or as a killer for light key targets. Nothing else needs be said, she gets the job done.
Firewatch and Andreana - Heavy duty shooters with wide range and unique targeting rules that specialize in dealing large amounts of damage one way or another, all useful. Firewatch can also use camouflage for fun strats, while Andreana can reap great benefits from long-term investment due to her status as a nominal Abyssal Hunter.
Asbestos - Strong Arts Guard, her S2 can target air, and is just in general very useful in balancing lanes that also need damage when you're spread thin elsewhere, or just as a fun, good unit to use.
La Pluma or Highmore - Both play very similar. Handy, self-sustaining middleweights with potent minibursts and unique three-frontal tile AoE ranges. They can get up to some truly wicked positioning strats.
Manticore - Heavy single hits with either Slow (truly constant with S1M3) or Stun and a large range with true AoE (actually hits EVERY unit in range). Straightforward use and can be used very creatively on chokepoints.
Platinum - S2 gives her extra range and strong single hits, letting her do things no other AA Sniper can do and giving you some ease of command on maps with inconvenient, distant ranged tiles. This is more valuable than you think.
Kazemaru - Middleweight laneholder with explosive bursts and ability to keep herself alive. Can hit air during Doll Form. Allows for various advance deployment strats thanks to her Dollkeeper nature, and has high constant damage during S2 uptime.
Silence - Her drone's healing is actually very powerful, a burst of healing that can actually enable some unique strategies and sustain that you'd otherwise not be able to achieve for cheap. Like her friend Ptilopsis, does not need Masteries to perform at a high level, but of course, welcomes them.
Liskarm - Very sturdy Physical damage tank that can cycle her S1 VERY quickly and has an S2 with good utility for when you need it. Can function as an SP battery for other characters as well, enabling some goofy meme strats (that carry a lot of potency).
Kjera - Great Caster with Freeze on S2. Nothing much needs be said, she's simply lovely, a caster, and can deal good damage with crowd control. Straightforward and simple.
If a 5* isn't here, it doesn't mean they are bad, there are plenty of good ones out there like Iris and Bibeak to name a few, but I consider this list a pretty integral "core" roster, from which you can then expand towards your preferences.
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itsclydebitches · 11 months
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Any tips for new grad students? I'm about to start in the fall and I'm curious how it'll be different/hopefully better than undergrad!
Congratulations, anon!!!
Let's see... some alphabetical tips based on my own experience:
Ask for help. You'll likely have a million questions and, unfortunately, the designated people who can answer them are often crazy busy and may take a while to get back to you, or forget entirely. So don't be afraid to ask for help from whoever might even feasibly know the answer -- including tumblr blogs! You're off to a great start lol
Be on the lookout for advisors early. Whether you're just in need of a singular advisory for a thesis, or if you'll be putting a whole committee together, approach every new instructor with the question, "Would I want them to mentor me through my research?" in the back of your mind. Pay attention to not just their specialties and teaching methods, but who they are as a person. Do you like them? Are you comfortable with them? Do they treat you respectfully? Do they seem to have everything well in hand? I loved my advisor dearly as a person, but he was often waaaaaay behind on his work. Looking back, I would have at least considered choosing someone with better organization/time management skills.
Get good at writing emails. Can you write a succinct, professional sounding email? Great! Get comfortable doing that throughout the whole day. Feeling a little iffy? Practice over the summer. There are a lot of templates online that can help, but you'll want to ensure you're not going into grad school still writing "k thx" from your iPhone at 3:00am. (For the record, your professors may do this, the students should not lol).
Have designated, scheduled downtime. Literally if you don't plan to take a break... you won't be taking a break. Not until your body decides to take one for you, anyway. Friday nights were always my couch potato time. Absolutely no work allowed and no strenuous activity unless it was something I was legitimately excited about (so no getting pressured into outings I didn't actually want to attend). Friday nights were sacred, a time for takeout and only whatever else I felt like doing, usually TV, video games, and vegging out with my cat.
Imposter Syndrome is a BITCH. Luckily, pretty much everyone's got it to a greater or lesser extent, we all just need to acknowledge it more. You know those boards some schools have celebrating places where students have gotten in and other achievements? Yeah, we put one up for failures in our department. Literally a giant, glittery, "CONGRATS YOU DIDN'T GET IT!" board where we hung proposal rejections, grant rejections, school rejections, scholarship rejections, job rejections, and on one memorable occasion a date rejection. I highly recommend it. Nothing lessens the sting quite as much as seeing that you're a part of a sea of similar disappointments and remembering that you're all in the same, often luck-based boat.
Pick a non-academic hobby. Your mental health will thank you, trust me. Like the designated downtime, you need to be doing something that's not reading/writing/researching 24/7. Pick a hobby that in no way relates to academics or your chosen field, preferably something hands-on and creative. Grad school is when I picked up crocheting alongside knitting.
Prepare to hold down two jobs. This really only applies if you're going to be teaching while you get your degree (or if you have an outside job for the paycheck), but I was pretty blindsided by what it took to be a full-time student and a half-time instructor. I don't really have good advice beyond "Figure out your time management skills now" and "Don't pour all your energy into one or the other because the one you've neglected WILL come back to bite you in the ass," but even just being aware of how difficult it is going to be would have staved off the initial shock.
Read strategically. Perhaps this is different for someone not in the Humanities, but you will be reading a LOT in grad school. Like, an absolutely stupid amount. There simply will not be time to cover everything from title to footnotes (I know, it hurts), so get comfortable with reading abstracts, chapter summaries, skimming, and otherwise summarizing lengthy works to figure out what you should prioritize. Unless a whole article is assigned for class, figure out what you need from any given text -- or what you think you may need -- and hone in on that. You can always return to read more if you have the time.
SAVE EVERYTHING. Do not delete emails. Get copies of everything even remotely official. Print everything out. Buy yourself a couple of cheap file boxes, stick them under your bed, and keep it all just in case. What kind of things have I unexpectedly needed to dredge up weeks, months, or even years later? The printed paper with hand-written comments to justify a grade I gave. An ancient email from a committee member proving that they did in fact sign off on a certain chapter choice. A copy of the publication forms I signed for a book collection after those got lost on their end (somehow). Seriously, save everything. You'll never know when you may need proof of some communication you've had.
Take naps. That's it. That's the advice. Someone gives you shit for being "lazy" or tries to make you feel bad for "wasting" a sunny afternoon? Make them step on a Lego and then both of you take your nap outside. Naps are beautiful and sacred and life-saving. Just set a good alarm for whenever your next class/meeting is.
Work at making friends. Unlike high school or even college where you'll be spending the day with a core group of people, in graduate school (unless your school is really small) the students are a lot more spread out and there aren't as many built-in opportunities to socialize. So plan to put in more effort at connecting with others because you will want that camaraderie, both for practical help and your sanity. I didn't realize how much more I needed to do to get to know my peers until I was nearly finished my Master's. Luckily, my PhD threw me into an office with seven other grads, so I didn't have a choice about getting to know them lol
You're responsible for your own learning. You've gotten a taste of this in college, but grad school cranks it up to 11. You're an adult (not an "adult" adult like a college student) and you've committed to putting forth 2-7 additional years towards your education. The expectation is that you want to be here and will showcase the necessary effort without outside influence (unless you require accommodations, of course). Be prepared for your instructors to treat you like a peer, both when it comes to the fun stuff - intense debates about your field! - and the responsibilities they expect you to follow through on. In some ways grad school is nothing like college because you are now focused on one subject, you are working collaboratively with people who were once solely authority figures, and 95% of the work will occur outside the classroom via self-teaching. You're a professional now. Still being mentored, but well on your way to that equal standing. The sooner you realize that you are responsible for your own education and future career -- not your teachers, your parents, your BFF, your roommate, etc. -- the better.
Most importantly:
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mychoombatheroomba · 2 months
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Bloody Lessons
Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 28
You were sure it wouldn't end with just the sparring match . . . and you were right.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
CW: Once again, assholes in the army and harassment (not targeting the Reader)
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Even if Fort Benning was a new space for you, even if it was a completely different base with different people, some things stayed the same - unanimous in your experience on Army bases. 
That was that information spread fast. 
Again you were reminded of that first meeting with Leon, how word had spread that you’d been called in to fight his squad, and how you’d trounced him. Now, though, months later, you couldn’t help but smile as you heard whispers about Leon’s victory. “You the kid that knocked Taylor’s ass in the dirt?” some cadets would ask Leon, and you could only watch with pride as he nodded and received a respectful nod in response. “Good-'' was usually the response. “Asshole needs to learn to shut his mouth.” Not everyone was so pleased with the victory, though. The man Leon defeated - Taylor - was covered in bruises the next day, glowering at Leon and the rest of you from across the mess hall tables. He had a fair few sympathizers, it seemed, because the men sitting around him matched his expression, looking at your squad like they were hoping you’d all burst into flames. 
Fortunately, Leon had backup of his own. 
When the rest of your squad heard about it, they were all too eager to congratulate him. Alejandro had slapped him on the back at lunch when he confirmed it was true. “Nice going, kid,” he’d praised. “‘Bout time we showed these boys what’s what.” 
And after Taylor’s comments the night before, you all decided that it wasn’t enough to humiliate the man in hand to hand combat. It became an unspoken goal amongst the visiting STRATCOM recruits to beat the Fort Benning boys at their own game. 
So, when you were all paired up in fours and assigned to a tank, each and every one of you took to it with a determination. There was no incentive to perform well like the desire to win, even if the game was one of your own making. Few more so than your own group. You and Leon had tried hard not to smile at each other when you were grouped together, along with Williams and Alenko. 
You were grateful for each of them being paired with you. After the incident with Taylor, after the comments he’d made, Williams was particularly motivated to out-perform him and everyone else. Alenko was the most knowledgeable on how the tanks worked, having wanted to work with them before being recruited into STRATCOM. He often prattled off facts about the machines, about their history, how they ran. Things that proved both useful and amusing. And Leon . . . well, it went without saying why you were happy to be paired with Leon. The two of you worked well together; months of getting close resulted in you knowing how to communicate well with each other. 
What surprised you was that the same extended - to a lesser degree - to Williams and Alenko. It was a bit difficult at first, with the four of you being crammed into an unfamiliar machine, taught to operate it in a crash course. Finding a rhythm was a daunting task, but you eventually started to figure out where you were best suited.
The four of you alternated positions for the first few days. Gunner, loader, driver and commander. Each of you learning the ins and outs, coming to appreciate the danger and power of the tank you operated. And as the days went on, as you all traded responsibilities and lessons, you all found which positions suited you best. It didn’t surprise you when Leon excelled as the gunner. You’d known him to be a good shot with everything that had a trigger thus far, so seeing him taking to this quickly - though vastly different - was no surprise. And the first time he fired the giant weapon, the first time you all felt the force of it shake the tank and your very bones, each of you had a look of awe on your faces. 
Williams and Alenko were both good drivers, a touch more cautious than Leon was. Well, perhaps a great deal more cautious. The tank couldn’t go that fast, all things considered, but that didn’t stop you from fearing for the tank’s integrity a few times with Leon behind the controls. Williams and Alenko were more measured. Safer. 
And you . . . well, you honestly preferred just loading the rounds into the main gun. It wasn’t easy, per se, because the rounds were sixty pounds each and you had to be quick and careful, but it was a process you felt you could perform reliably. In another life, perhaps you would have liked to be the commander. You would have liked to be the one keeping an eye out, directing everyone else, telling the driver of dangers around you and the gunner where to aim. After all, you’d made Sergeant so young for a reason. You’d been on the track of being a leader, once. As it was now, though . . . you weren’t sure you were the best person for the job, so you often left it to Williams or Alenko. 
So, you kept your limited authority to the sparring sessions you and Leon held. Ones that, much to your surprise, proved to be more and more popular, not just among your fellow STRATCOM recruits, but those training at Fort Benning, too. Some just observed the brutal bouts, while others decided to try their luck and challenge one of you. 
Most of them ended up in the dirt just as Taylor had. Most of them were like him - assholes with something to prove. Some of them, though, were actually looking to learn. Asking for you and the others to help them improve. 
You wouldn’t say you were happy to oblige them, but you did it anyway. 
And once again, you found some pride in how Leon started giving feedback of his own, telling recruits that they were telegraphing their movements too much, or when they could have taken advantage of an opening . . . it was jarring to see him giving the notes you’d given him, not so long ago. More proof of how much he’d grown. How far he’d come. 
You wanted to get home. Back to your own base.
You wanted to pull him into the blind spot of the cameras and show him just how proud of him you were. You wanted to be with him . . . but you held off, because there were too many eyes here and Fort Benning was too unfamiliar. And with the way Taylor and his fellow idiots were watching Leon especially, waiting for him to slip up. For any of you to, really. He clearly hadn’t taken well to his pride being damaged, and he made it a problem for all of you. Easy to do, when you were all handed over to the recruits to work alongside them in the motor pool on tank maintenance. He and his fellows - the ones who seemed to have a problem with you and the others - hadn’t learned their lesson, it seemed, and went on making comments about your squad. 
It was weighing on each of your nerves, but you pressed on, doing your best to ignore him. 
Hard to do when every time you were all chewed out for making a mistake, Taylor was there, smiling smugly. “Told you all,” he would so often speak some variation of the words, “all those punches and kicks they’ve been teaching you? Won’t help you here.” 
For the most part, you would all roll your eyes and carry on. 
Until the day you watched Valeria’s group of four climb out of a tank, having just driven it in an exercise with enough skill to make Commander Cortez nod in approval. They were getting better, and with Valeria behind the controls of the tank, it was enough to make most people congratulate her. But then your group walked past Taylor, and you could see that spark of animosity in his eyes. Jealousy or just simple-mindedness, you didn’t know. 
All you knew is that you expected him to say something base and ignorant as Valeria walked past with her entourage. 
And he did just that . . . only he didn’t stop at words this time. 
“Well shit,” he said, “maybe you can handle a tank well. Maybe I should get you on my crew . . . see what else you can handle . . .” Valeria narrowed her eyes and looked up at him as he went on, and you could tell she was already forming one of her quick retorts, but it wasn’t delivered quite as fast as the hand that Taylor brought out. 
Then, even with the amused chuckles of Taylor’s friends, it felt like silence fell as Taylor smacked Valeria squarely on the ass. 
Your anger flared like it hadn’t in weeks, but Williams, who had been following a few paces behind Valeria, saw red. Taylor would have been smart not to antagonize Valeria, and smarter still not to do it in front of others. But of all the people he had to pull that shit in front of, Williams was the most foolish. He learned that quickly when the tall, broad-shouldered woman cracked her fist square into Taylor’s face, the force of her blow like a battering ram. 
You couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath of air as you saw a tooth get knocked clean out of that smart mouth of his. 
Everything after that happened fast. Taylor cried out in pain, holding his now bleeding mouth, realizing what he’d lost. And then he was swinging right back at Williams, what little decorum had been present in his sparring match with Leon now long gone. His attack was sloppy with his pain, though. Williams dodged it easily . . . not so for the second one, delivered by one of the men at Taylor’s side that caught her in the nose by surprise.  
Valeria answered that with a blow of her own, coming up to the man’s side and kneeing him hard in the gut.
And as it became clear that it was going to be more than just the two of them, you were moving. There it was again - that sense of unity. You, Leon, Alejandro, Alenko . . . your entire squad moved as one, and you saw genuine fear cross the eyes of the dozen or so Fort Benning recruits that backed Taylor up. Like they realized the wolves were closing in around them. 
Commander Cortez must have realized it too, because he was rushing over to you all quickly, shouting out a command. “Back the fuck off!” he ordered, and all but Valeria listened. She’d never been one for following rules she thought were bullshit. And she’d never been one to pull her punches. As she laid low the recruit who’d punched Williams, she rushed Taylor next, giving him no time to breathe. The man backed away quickly, running when faced with the consequences of his actions. 
Valeria likely would have knocked the rest of the teeth from his mouth, were it not for Alejandro grabbing her and holding her back. “Quieres a ver qué yo puedo hacer hijo de gran puta?! Vamos pinché cabrón!” she shouted, trying to break free of Alejandro’s grip. 
“Stand down! All of you!” Cortez roared. He went to stand between Valeria and Taylor - a brave notion - and finally it felt like the fuse on that particular stick of dynamite had been cut. 
Valeria still looked like she wanted to tear Taylor’s throat out, and Williams was even worse, but no one moved. Not with the Commander right there. Still, a big part of you wanted Valeria to just keep going. Especially when Cortez looked at both Williams and Valeria in disappointment, not just Taylor. “Get your asses to the infirmary, then we’ll have a talk. The rest of you are dismissed.” 
There was a moment of lingering tension, one where Taylor looked from Williams, to Valeria, Leon and then the rest of your squad. As those enraged eyes scanned the crowd, as he spat blood from a mouth that had one less tooth in it, you knew that this wasn’t over. 
⧫⧫⧫
Williams and Valeria had been given latrine duty for the next week as punishment for the fight. Leon heard that Taylor had been sent to sort munitions in the depot, and he couldn’t help but feel that the asshole had gotten off easy. 
As far as Williams was concerned, though, it was worth it. 
“Shoulda kept the tooth,” she chuckled that night in sparring, her nose swollen and bandaged. Didn’t stop her from showing up for practice though, and Leon had seen how proud that fact had made you. Even if you likely didn’t want to admit it. 
Alenko laughed, putting his training knife away. “Think that’s technically a war crime.” 
“Only if she gets caught,” Valeria pointed out. “A good performance like that deserves a trophy.” However pissed the woman had been at Taylor, Valeria had been all cinder-smiles and lingering glances towards Williams since the fight. Leon couldn’t help but think it was ironic, this soldier who had warned you and him not to be so obvious being just as transparent in her affections. And with Williams blushing every time Valeria looked her way . . . Leon was happy for them. Happy that, like him, they might have found some joy in all of this. He just couldn’t help but wonder if you and Alenko noticed what was very plain to him. 
You, he wasn’t sure about. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to care much. Alenko seemed more preoccupied thinking about Taylor. “Well, hopefully this will all incentivize him to back off,” the older soldier said, sounding thoroughly tired of Taylor’s bullshit. Leon couldn’t blame him there, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the brief fight today had only made things worse. 
“He got his tooth knocked out,” you shook your head. “He’s not gonna let that go.” 
The others nodded, and for a moment, a solemn silence settled in. 
Then, with a slight smile, you shrugged. “Funny as hell, though.” A laugh almost escaped you as you said it, and Leon felt his heart squeeze, seeing you opening up even in such a small way. It was enough to put him in a good mood as the rest of you walked back to the barracks . . . but then three figures stepped in the group’s path, and that good mood soured instantly. 
Taylor stood in the middle, and Leon recognized the man Valeria had beaten as well. The third was another cadet who’d sparred with you a few days ago. One who’d glared at you from the ground, just as so many others had. All of them were stone-faced and tense. 
“We were just talking about you,” Valeria sneered, and got no immediate response as Taylor stared down Williams. Then, Leon found himself under that blistering gaze. “What?” Valeria went on, scoffing. “Don’t feel like giving us a smile?” 
“Fuck you, you bitch,” Taylor spat, and Leon got a good look of the empty spot in the line of teeth - second from the middle. It took away drastically from the man’s chiseled features, and it might have been funny to Leon if it weren’t for the very plain threat being laid before them. If it wasn’t for the other figures - the same dozen that had been by Taylor’s side earlier today - that soon stepped up from behind you all, flanking your little group. All men that you or Leon or another of your group had taken down in sparring. 
Leon glanced over at you, seeing your body tense. Taught as a bowstring. 
He knew what was about to happen. 
“You knocked out my fucking tooth,” Taylor spat at Williams, and the tall woman frowned, her hands clenching into fists. “Bet you won’t be so pretty with a few of yours missing.” 
“You’re really doing this?” Leon shook his head. It was late, but there would still likely be witnesses. He was the one starting this fight. He would take the blame for this.
It seemed that Taylor didn’t really care, though, because he just narrowed his eyes. Five against twelve, surrounded. The odds weren’t in your group’s favor. He must have weighed that against the risk and decided that your group’s pain was more important than whatever punishment he might receive. So, Leon already knew his answer before he gave it. “Damn fucking right we are.” 
Then the group moved in, all of the dozen Fort Benning recruits rushing in, closing around your group like the jaws of some beast. 
Leon was struck with a sense of familiarity. It wasn’t the first time he’d been surrounded, but it wasn’t Raccoon City that he thought of now. No, instead, he thought of the training yard back on home base. He thought of you, of standing back to back with you, facing down Valeria, Alejandro and Andersen against Krauser’s orders. Only now it wasn’t just the two of you against the world. Neither of you were alone, and that became abundantly clear as Williams, Alenko and Valeria fell into stances behind him. As you readied yourself at his side. It wasn’t how he imagined his first real fight alongside you going, but Krauser had often told you all that few people got to choose when and where a fight happened. All they could do was prepare as best they could. 
And now, Leon supposed, Krauser’s other teachings would be put to the test. 
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A/N: Shorter chapter in preparation for my favorite fight scene of the series so far 😁
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phoenixwritessmut · 6 months
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intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)
okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.
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hear me out, okay.
PJ (we start with the queen who started it all): - talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm. - is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans. - has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on. - learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!
Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes): - pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians. - she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel). - secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds. - too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".
Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me): - is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less. - refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion. - lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!). - ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.
Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny): - first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter. - seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping". - gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it. - went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.
Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl): - since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other). - wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet. - definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that. - stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.
and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...
Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer): - looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess. - into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.
Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help): - looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving. - has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.
Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear): - has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy. - doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.
and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.
Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there): - has never found THE spot, ever. - had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine." - genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them. - falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.
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chromatic-lamina · 1 year
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I don't understand the Kid hate (like, you can dislike the character, but why discount his achievements)? Seeing it angled at Law to a lesser degree too. Luffy's the main protagonist. Of course Luffy's gonna be the ultimate victor, and important side characters have to fall, but that doesn't negate the things they have achieved.
Also, it can be a lesson in being brought down by your own hubris, lack of planning, sheer bad luck, isolation...but Kid and Law still defeated Big Mom. They still worked together on the rooftop. Law still saved Zoro's ass (and everyone else who wasn't Luffy) by transporting them both on the rooftop and into the castle. Like, if everyone is the most powerful, where's the conflict?
I just figure I'm reading posts by teenage power-scaling idiots or folks with a teenaged mentality when I come across those posts.
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fluffyotters · 25 days
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Matakara if he was the original main character of Bucchigiri
Givn how people react to Arajin, they wouldn't be able to handle Matakara if he was the main character. (Though maybe slightly better due to prettiness attractive factor and gay. But probably not enough.) If Arajin trying to win over Mahoro is bad, just imagine every episode of poor Matakara going "Ara-chan!" and trying to be friendly with him. The second hand embarasamment and pity watching him trying to win him over, heck not even romantically even if he does love him, but Arajin saying multiple times we're not friends in front of everybody. Matakara telling everyone how awesome and amazing Arajin is. If Arajin is the side character now, it is an even bigger mystery and deep disconnect between Matakara's delusional idealization of Arajin and how everyone else and the audience sees him. It'd be just what are you on? Though seeing him and Zabu and Kamao would be fantastic. Everyone knows how Matakara feels about Arajin. He must constantly talk and show it constantly. He and Arajin share that obsession. Marito taunts him about being Arajin's doggie a few times. Unfortunately the audience and Zabu are still mystified. Though seeing Arajin literally one punch Marito, Kenichiro, and Akutaro actually gives justice to him being super strong and makes sense how Matakara continues to believe in him.
But no means no and it would be kind of questionable to see a nice guy like Matakara (who is a genuinely good person) be questionable and kind of essentially try to continue to push onto Arajin being friends again despite him not wanting too and even told repeatedly they weren't friends now is pretty sad. People's (the audience) heads would explode lol with how much he loves Arajin unlike how Arajin is felt about currently who is pretty over the top hated even though there really isn't anything wrong with him that deserves the reaction and dislike he gets. (Being annoying and a girl chaser is not that bad to be near worst mc hated character ever which is overkill). Matakara is a foolish Arajin chaser who is just as loud about it he just looks cuter. They're both absolutely delusionally obsessed with the ones they love and want. People would not be able to handle that Matakara will beat people up for little reason. It's a subtle thing because fighting is an acceptable and honorable thing in this fight culture excvited show but while Matakara doesn't start fights (at the start) for no reason, he has zero hesitation joining in and finishing and is pretty dang strong and dangerous (most after Kenichiro and Marito human wise. Akutaro is a maybe but in a fair one on one without weapons and Ichiya pretty sure Matakara would have smashed him). However, it does seem like people bumping into him was a challenge/excuse to start a fight as he does later deliberately and even implied at the start in the first episode that Zabu and Kamao were trying to get Arajin thrashed his first day. Had it been anyone but Arajin, it would have been very different and Zabu was too happy to get Arajin to bump him and introduce him to their big friend and Matakara is all in shadows...before oh it's Arajin! There is a very distinct treatment from Matakara between those who are his brother, Kenichiro and Arajin...and everybody else. Even his good friends (who are better friends to Matakara than Arajin ever was or unfortuantely probably will be barring the last act) are very aware of the place in ranking they have in Matakara's mind. He's nice but actually, we haven't seen him interact with many people outside of his friends and Arajin. As a main character, it would be clear he probably isn't actually nearly as nice to non Arajin's (or brother/ken's) or his buddies to a lesser degree. And while fighting is normal and over downright silly things, just accidentally being bumped into (forced) as an excuse is a tactic that...isn't a good or honorable one and used by someone who would bully. And while he isn't as ruthless as the NG group people actions, it would still be unpleasant and awful to watch them and the main character beat up a guy who had literally done nothing wrong just for fun.
It would reveal too soon and be concerning how kind of unbalanced Matakara really is and people would not like how emotionally needy and obsessed he is in chasing after a straight guy and low opinion of himself and the fear. This is not something looked kindly on by audiences and be hated for. A weak one who (while not the worst) does bully people and obsessed in love with a fantasy version of a guy who does not want him nor wants to be his friend (out of his own guilt complex but Matakara doesn't know that) and Matakara thinks it's because he's weak and just goes with it because it must be because Arajin is so strong. It's a tragic sad thing to see but also would make for a undeserved hatred of Matakara just like Arajin has now.
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Imagine if Voyager truly cared about what B'Elanna and Seven wanted, like. once in seven years? For all the screentime Seven gets, it's never about what she wants, just what she has to do in order to fit in better, and B'Elanna... well. She truly gets shit from everyone for no reason whatsoever.
One of the main reasons why I would've love for them to interact more is that, for all their mutual annoyance, somehow they aren't as dismissive with each other as others are with them. Seven is a an arrogant little shit but she apologizes to B'Elanna very frequently when B'Elanna expresses her annoyance, more than most other characters generally do with B'Elanna honestly! And Seven seems to notice pretty quickly when B'Elanna is upset too, which always makes me raise my eyebrows because we're constantly told Seven is not very socially smart... she is though, once she starts learning. B'Elanna in turn only tells Seven to cut it out when she crosses a line and is not at all about giving her a lesson in 'humanity' or whatever.
@nebulouscoffee left some tags that made me think last night:
#on rewatch especially!! I noticed how much the script kept telling me these two hated each other #but they so rarely ever really came off that way? #and even when they did it always felt so... idk Scripted
And I totally agree with this. Voyager to me is a fundamentally unselfaware show, especially when it comes to B'Elanna: we're told things about her by other characters, but those never, ever gel very well with how she acts, how she expresses her feelings, how justified she she is in being irritated when others treat her like anything she says or does is unreasonable. On a lesser degree Seven is also treated that way; constantly, constantly told 'this is how you need to act', 'this is what you need to learn', 'this what it means to be human' and punished every time she's not good at it which is inevitable because literally no one else (except B'Elanna! or maybe Harry, although he is exempt from sexist tropes) is held to the same impossible standards. And Seven tries very hard every time! But of course the show is convinced that she needs to be taken down a peg in order to become 'a real woman' (yikes).
The way the show wants to present B'Elanna and Seven together is always 'look how catty they are with each other (wink wink)', and imho it isn't different from what's going on with them taken singularly. We're told they don't like each other, but what is shown to me is... way more nuanced, especially taking into consideration how they both fit (and not fit) within the ship. In a way, the way they relate to one another is the most honest rapport either of them have on Voyager. They don't really want anything from one another, they aren't thinking about fundamentally changing the other so their lives can be easier (again, when B'Elanna gets annoyed with Seven she only reiterates her own boundaries). Granted the show makes awful jokes at their expense sometimes (“Infinite Regress” and the cold open of “Someone to Watch Over Me” come to mind) but show me a character or a relationship on Voyager who is exempt from this kind of deeply uncomfortable and not actually very funny situation.
I truly believe that exploring this relationship more could have given them some much needed space. Space is a concept I always come back to when I think of B'Elanna and Seven, because I think both of them (especially B'Elanna) needed more of it to be themselves on their own terms for once. And I'm not talking necessarily about minutes of screentime—I'm talking about the writing being less sexist and racist, being less enamored with the idea of conformity, caring about them as characters and not as props in the absurd sexist, idiosyncratic fantasies of a 90s production: even beside Seven's horrible biosuit, B'Elanna is so often 'the girlfriend who doesn't understand what the protagonist is going through and will be insulted onscreen', it makes me genuinely mad!
Obviously I'm not exactly wishing Voyager had actually done it, because again, totally unselfaware writing all the time, but thinking about B'Elanna and Seven interacting always leads me to think about how they could both let each other simply be, even if they would still likely annoy the shit out of each other. And I wouldn't ever want to change that, honestly: willful women deserve to be themselves, that's all.
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romeulusroy · 10 months
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Keloid (Baby!Roy x Roman Roy )
Character/s: Roman, Logan
Word Count: 1,586
Requested: hi! can i get broken glass, gauze, “i missed you”, “You’re covered in blood”, and “look at me” with baby roy and connor or roman please? 😊❤️ - @thedarkqueen
Tag: @locke-writes
A/N: Screaming I love this request so much!!! This was just perfect my love, so angsty it's my face!!!! I really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜
Succession Masterlist / REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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You find him at the bar. He seems smaller. His shoulders are rounded, concave, but not tense. His stitches have been reopened. He lets himself smile, just for a moment, before recovering. It’s a new feeling, this weightlessness. Airy. he drinks a dirty martini. You don’t want to interrupt, intrude. This is his moment. Everyone else is gone. Gloating, celebrating, or, like your brother, like the two of them, facing a future of uncertainty. There’s nothing left. That was it. You’re faced with the same dilemma, to a lesser degree. You feared that promise would leave Kendall hollow. Rotting. He left before you could catch him, check his pulse. They both did. Your sister off in her own world, becoming the obedient woman she was always destined to be. It hurt to think about them, about this. You could hold it, this ache, this knowing that things would never be the same. You wanted to hold on a little longer. Selfishly, you missed them. Even as he sits before you, sipping his drink, he seems so far away already. You take the seat next to him, making him jump. You don’t look at him and he doesn’t look at you, instead your eyes meet the bottles lined up on the shelf. Little armies, ready to defend. You order your usual, grateful that he hasn’t gotten up. He decided to stay despite your presence. He clears his voice once, twice, but the words never come. The silence sits sweetly between you, making itself comfortable. Your chin falls. You can feel them burning under his gaze, your hands. He doesn’t have to say a thing. You know exactly what he’s thinking about. 
The scars were burning white lines across your fingers, your palms and the back of your hands. Some lay flat, others are chunky, rounded, as if trying to claw away from you. No matter what you did to try to get rid of them, they refused to budge. They stared up at you, at everyone you came in contact with, begging to be noticed, to be seen. Instinctively you flexed your hands, feeling the tightness of the skin. The lines go up your wrists, tapering off. Here and there, at your elbow, your forearm, your biceps, sprinkled across your arms. Mostly though, they cut through your hands and wrists. You were shredded. He called you that once Logan. Shredder. As if it were funny. After all these years, you still bore the anger of your father. You wore it like a prize, as if surviving him were something to show off. This was your medal for a shitty childhood. He was gone and you were still looking at them, feeling them, stared at by peers and strangers alike. A freakshow, he once said so callously you’d forgotten how to breathe. Sometimes you get lost in the scars, reliving that day over and over. He thought you wouldn't remember. He thought you were too young.
The bartender slides your glass across the bar. Again you flex, before feeling the icy sweat of the tumbler. I missed you, you whisper, before realizing, before catching yourself. I was only gone for a few minutes, but. . . The rest of your sentence clatters to the floor. But the three of you left. You were fighting. You couldn’t be near it. When you came back they were gone, Matsson standing in their place. He doesn’t have a response, eyes cast down, watching your fingers clutch at the glass. You used to hide them, your hands, when kids at school first started noticing. When they started saying things. The adults, choosing ignorance, never said a word. Not when you were back at your desk a few days later, gauze wrapped childishly around them. It was Roman who’d done it. They were tight and flimsy and red had seeped through by the end of the day. No one who could have done anything did anything. No one stepped in. no one asked. They just knew. They knew and they let him get away with it. He wasn’t a God, he was an angry man. The world had been mixing the two up for centuries. They always hurt your hands. You tried to write, to play, but it was too difficult. So you sat there and watched the paper white of the tissue, squeezing them, making sure they still belonged to you. You catch yourself doing that now, too. Logan took a lot from you. Too much. You were convinced he had the power to take body parts, too. 
He orders another. Remember, he starts, but never finishes. Yeah, I  do. He never meant for it to happen. At least, not at first. Logan never raised a hand to the eldest three, something you would never understand. You would never get an answer for. He just did, like he did a lot of things. You weren’t doing anything. Not that you can remember a lot before. You were in the living room, doing what children do, playing, maybe making a mess? Maybe being too loud? You were never sure what kind of trivial thing would set him off, what would make his blood boil. He couldn’t stand it. He could always find the faults in you. He slapped you across the face. Hard, with the back of his hand. Hard enough to leave your cheek tingling. Hard enough for your little body to sway, falling into the coffee table. The glass shattered under you. You tried to catch yourself, save yourself, but that only made things worse. Shards embedded themselves into your skin, in your clothes and hair. Blood began to pool on the white carpet. Shocked, you could only sit there, looking at the ruins. He stood above you, disgusted. You’re covered in blood, you remember him spitting, like it was your fault. Like you had chosen this. Slowly the adrenaline wears off, the sting begins to spread, your own cry foreign in your ears. It sounded like a wounded animal. He left you like that, muttering to himself about the scene you’ve caused. That whine still haunts you, coming to you in nightmares. I did a lousy job, he admits, suddenly sounding tired. You were a kid, too Rome. . . 
Look at me. Bleary eyes, tears welling up before you can stop them, a blurry figure crouches before you. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting like that, only that the tingling in your cheek is gone. You haven’t moved, scared, or cried. There is so much blood. So much red. Like a pool, you remember thinking. You’re not sure where he came from, when he got home, only that he had a certainty in his voice that made you listen. Don’t look down, look at me, okay? Slowly, he helps you up, careful not to touch your wounds. He leads you to the bathroom where he sits you up on the counter, face to face with you. You’ve stopped crying, instead whimpering. Everything smelled of iron. Metallic. You watch him lock the door, knowing there was always a chance he’d come back again. He warns you this is going to hurt, and you nod, wanting to be brave for your big brother. Shaking hands, he starts to pick the pieces out. Glittery pieces clatter and tinkle in the sink. What he can’t reach, he plucks with tweezers. You bite your tongue, stopping yourself from crying out anymore. You’re not sure how many times he pulls glass from your skin, only that there is a small pile in the sink when he’s done. See, that wasn’t so bad. His face is sweaty, his forehead creased, though his voice remains light. You smile at him, sniffling, showing him that it didn’t hurt at all. That you’re a big kid, you can handle this. 
The alcohol feels warm on any empty stomach. That sterile smell reminds you of the iodine he washed your arms with, trying to prevent infection. He wrapped you up like a mummy, unsure of what else to do. Some were deeper wounds, others only surface level. This was his mess, his fault, not yours. Leaving you alone with him, he should have known better. Now he sits, years later, feeling that terrible guilty feeling in the back of his throat. He should have done more. He should have done better. That day will be embedded in his mind for the rest of his life. And yet, neither of you have anything to say. There’s nothing left. You know this is the last time you’ll see him for a long time. You all need your space, to cool off, to find your own path, whatever that means. He gives them his card, paying for your drink, too. Another apology. He’s been apologizing to you since that day, trying to make up for it. He never needed to, though. You never blamed him. That day he was your hero, your super star big brother saving you from your father. He made sure your wounds healed, changing the bandages every day. He was the one who cleaned up the table, who rolled up the rug, unable to stand looking at it a second longer. Disgusted by Logan’s behavior. He still is, your hero, your star, your big brother, even if he doesn’t feel like it. Even if he slips off the bar stool without a word, leaving you behind now that it’s safe. Now that your father can’t get you. He always will be.
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doeeyeddyke · 8 months
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post Lazarus transfem Jay, where no one knows shit about her coming back until completely accidentally, partly bc she's not even the (sole) center of attention
Damian is sent to Gotham and is one day like btw I have some sisters and Bruce is like..... "Are They Mine" (Wait I Might Have Girls 🥺) (secret girldad Bruce for the win) and Damian is like.... Jane will be displeased if I say anything.... but I think Athanasia biologically is Father's..... but I don't want to lie..... hmmm...... "idk anyway look at the time doot di doot...."
Talia doesn't pick up when Bruce calls she's just like "girls go check if it's anything important or if he's just having a meltdown"
So now 2 sisters start popping up around more often to keep and eye out and check on Damian and one is super tall and buff and the other is much shorter and slighter but they call themselves twins even if short one says she's older and tall one is like "barely!! it doesn't count!!" which honestly yea they're sisters alright
That's how Black Swan and White Dove come to be known, Black Swan is quiet and seemingly ambivalent about the bats but White Dove sounds like she's about to beat the shit out of Batman and to a lesser degree Nightwing and seems vaguely displeased being around Tim's Robin but is cool with Spoiler/Batgirl (esp since she's gotten close to Black Swan and treats her well) and distantly polite to young Duke the very few times they meet
Tim's Robin: hey what's up with that
Damian:
Robin:
Damian: she has Issues With Men don't you know anything Drake smh leave her alone
Robin:
Robin: Oh. Yea ok that makes sense ig sorry man
Damian: don't tell her I said anything tho
(Damian to himself later: it's not Untrue but that's not exactly what's- wait ok that's kinda exactly what's going on here isn't it)
Btw Damian calls her Jane but her full name is Catherine Jane Columba (Mom's name + Jane Austen + Mom's hc maiden name) and she uses Jane with league sibs but CJ in general for everyone else
Anyway I imagine that Cass and Jane start hanging around more and are eventually considered neutral to friendly extension of batfam via Damian (and Athanasia and Mara when they're sent over) (Athanasia is sweet if a lil awkward and much younger than everyone else, Mara is very "You're Not My Dad just a sort of step uncle at best" but Bruce is like "omg,,, daughters,,,,")
Cass might even eventually come over for dinner or smth maybe as Steph's plus one and Dick would be like "omg I am going to big brother you so hard" and Bruce is like "are you sure you don't want to be my daughter" and Tim is trying to figure out if he can do his stalking out of affection and respect thing without getting his butt kicked and the Al Ghul kids are being absolute demons fighting for Cass' attention and trying to find out what Jane is upto
The Jane identity reveal can be totally anticlimactic (Damian says Jane wants to meet them and then at a scheduled dinnerthey meet a buff tall older female lookalike of the dead second Robin and they think "omg 😱 surprise older Todd sister no one knew about??" and Jane doesn't let anyone say anything bc she wants to see how long this lasts)
Or maybe there's some big fight or whatever or fear toxin is involved and a league sib is hurt and Jane unmasks to comfort and tend to them and Bruce or Dick (or even Alfred!) see her face and have a bit of an aneurysm and Jane's too distracted with big sister-ing to be too explicitly angry with the bats at the moment but makes a snappy remark or smth that gives her away ("miss me old man" /sarcastic and /derogatory if it's Bruce)
And uh yea anyway don't take this too seriously I'm half delirious and keep dissociating in turns and I just wanted an excuse for transfem Jason and ended up really loving CJ/Jane
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