#I must....get better at drawing horses again....

[bonesjaunst]

Yippiieee it's Banou! And Sakina!! Nothing else is going on here it's just horsies and pretty ladies don't worry. trust me haha

@longlostlorian your guys as promised >:3

[kasagia]

Familiar flame

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem!Grisha! reader Summary: Aleksander lost his Y/N the day he created the fold. The king's soldiers killed his one true love in front of his eyes. His despair and anger led to the creation of a dark fold. After centuries, Aleksander meets a girl identical to his beloved… her reincarnation. Will he be able to restore your memories? Could he get you back after centuries of mourning you? Or maybe Aleksander finally lost his mind... Nonsense from me: This is request from @morrigan-crowmwell I hope that you like it! ♡♡ And I'm veeeery excited to write your next request! (and to publish it soon ♡♡) P.S. I'm sorry it took me ages again, luckily I'll have a lot more free time now, so I promise it'll get better. 😅 Warning(s): references to reincarnation; Aleksander misses the reader and can't resist her (even if she doesn't remember him); the reader is a bit hysterical; the reader behaves like a little child spoiled by Aleksander; the reader has Aleksander wrapped around her little finger, but he doesn't care; the reader has a panic attack and hyperventilation; de@th mentions; NOT CHECKED grammatically and so on - I wanted to publish it as soon as possible Word count: 9,4k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell

"So many centuries on this earth, and you're still a naive, hopeless romantic. Tell me how do you do it, boy?"

Baghra taunted him without even looking up from her dinner. Aleksander growled, irritated by her lack of interest. He slammed his fist on the table, drawing the unfazed woman's attention to him.

"It's true, I saw her! It was her!"

"Aleksander... you must move on." Darkling snorted, jumping up as if burned from his chair. Baghra followed her son as he ran out of her hut, not giving up. If they both had something in common, it was their great stubbornness. "How many times have you seen this girl? You have to realize that she's not coming back. Y/N is dead, Aleksander. For hundreds of years."

"She is here! I danced with her month ago at the ball, you can't tell me I didn't because I remember her face perfectly. It is etched in my mind more permanently than any other memory."

"You wanted an answer to your question. Here it is. There is no such thing as reincarnation, the reappearance of someone on this world. We die once, Aleksander. Once and successfully. So whoever you met yesterday, even with a face that looks like her, is not Y/N. So you'd better leave the innocent girl alone."

The Darkling laughed bitterly, shaking his head. His mother would never see him as more than a small, quick-tempered, silly boy. He should get used to it after all these years.

"You think I'd come to you with this if she was just one of the faces like her? Me and my people have been watching her for a month now, ever since some snobbish nobleman's daughter came back to the palace and turned out to be the only woman I ever cared about in this saint-damn world. It must be her. I don't know how, why, and honestly, I don't care as long as it's really her. Neither should you - as far as I remember you cared for her more than for me."

"Aleksander. I know you loved her, but you have to let her go. People just don't rise from the grave." she tried to reason with him. But he knew better.

It must be you. Somehow the Saints took pity on his tortured soul and returned you to him, and he wasn't going to stay further away from you than necessary.

He will have you again in his life, arms, and bed.

No matter what he has to sacrifice to restore your memories.

"Just as they don't live forever, and yet we do." he growled as he mounted his horse and galloped back towards the Little Palace. He was in for a long night spent in his library, poring over books. If Baghra didn't want to help him, he would find the answer himself.

"You stupid boy..." Baghra snorted, shaking her head in disappointment.

Your death was both the worst and best thing for her son. You would never live as long as they did - your death would have come anyway, just in a less bloody way. Ordinary people were fragile, and their lives were shorter—one breath of Baghra or Aleksander equaled thousands of them. She had no idea why her son was so stubborn about getting you back, even though you were truly reborn. Aleksander would lose you again. Even he couldn't fight death itself and go against nature in such a matter... or so Baghra hoped.

The boundaries that Aleksander wouldn't cross in your name were practically nonexistent.

And she would be afraid of him more with you by his side - the most powerful Etherealki woman this earth has ever seen… a tribrid with the powers of Squaller, Inferni and Tidemaker.

~•♤♤♤•~

It all started a month ago.

Aleksander was at another of the king's balls, circulating among the generals of the First Army, trying to win their favor and consent to a slight modification of their plans. For his and Grishas' benefit, of course.

He would never have guessed that a conversation with General Petrova, the king's irritating, faithful soldier, would bring him more than a headache. It was usually with him that the Darkling had his greatest disputes during war councils.

However, while the general caused him the most trouble of all in the king's court, he was one of the few who respected the Darkling not for his powers, which instilled fear among other soldiers, but for the sake of his tactical, sound thinking.

Never in his life would Aleksander have thought that General Petrova's daughter would be a faithful doppelgänger of his long-dead beloved.

He was stunned as soon as he saw you enter the room.

Anywhere, even on his deathbed, he would have recognised that mischievous twinkle in your eyes whenever you were given full attention. You were a vision. Apparition. A fairy tale that was etched forever in his memory.

And he may have lived many lives, met millions of ordinary people and thousands of Grishas, but this face, the face of his loved one, whom he only met in his sweet dreams and darkest nightmares, had never ever flashed a second of his hundreds-year life. There were no humans even close to your beauty...

And then, after hundreds of years of sorrow, pain, and grief, he saw you again. He was again enchanted by your mesmerising eyes, your sweet, mischievous smile, your tempting lips... He let himself be lost for a while in the view of his beloved before questions started to cross his mind.

How? When? Who is she? From where? Could it really be you? Hundreds of years in pain, only for you to walk casually one day to one of the balls of a king whose ancestor killed you?

Aleksander didn't even notice when you approached him and General Petrova. But YOUR voice, his Y/N's voice, definitely brought him back into the world. Like a strong, vicious slap.

"Father. It was definitely too long." Aleksander almost broke down there. Being so close to someone who looked like you, hearing your voice again in REALITY, smelling the perfume so damn well know to him - the same one which made him lose his mind ages ago for you...

"General Kirigan. My daughter, Y/N. Y/N. General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army." your careful gaze finally met his. And Aleksander was gone.

Saints save him… even those bloody, fucking eyes he would die for were the same….

"It's a pleasure to meet you, General Kirigan." Aleksander couldn't do anything else but reach for your hand and kiss it—something he'd also dreamed of a thousand times, but in his dreams you only used his true, real name. "Your fame extends to the farthest reaches of Ravka. I am glad to see the legendary Darkling with my own eyes." Aleksander shivered as his title spilled out of your mouth. Not with mockery or insult or fear, but flatteringly, strongly… He had to control himself. It wasn't his Y/N… unless…

"I think these aren't very… flattering stories."

"You'd be surprised, General…" Aleksander could feel himself melting under her attentive gaze. The number of long-buried emotions overwhelmed him. And he himself felt his long-forgotten, dead, cold heart come to life again under each of your charming smiles, warm tone of voice, and enticing looks.

Now that he had had the opportunity to look at her more closely, he noticed all the (perfectly familiar) small details.

The way your hair was styled—so that a few strands stand out from your perfectly styled hairstyle, no long earrings, only small pearls that your hair would be harder to get into, delicate jewellery, not flashy like most women's, jewellery that instead of testifying to your wealth emphasised your beauty.

You seemed so familiar to him…

"Do you dance, General?" your question snapped him out of his mind about HIS Y/N.

He didn't dance on such occasions. Never. But he would be damned if he didn't try to find out how far your resemblance to his Y/N goes.

"If you wish, Lady Petrova." he replied with a charming smile, reverting to his image of a confident general of the Second Army.

"Please..." she grabbed his hand. The touch of her delicate skin against his rough made him shiver uncontrollably. He was putty in your hands... but he would be cursed if he let go, if he loses again the one thing that holds him firmly in this world. "Call me Y/N."

"Y/N." he mumbled, leading her to the dance floor. He gripped her securely around the waist, pulling her close enough to be considered appropriate. "I'm dying to see how this one's ends."

"Not only you… general." you peeked at him over those beautifully painted eyelids, biting your lips lightly. Reincarnation, doppelgänger, or real you, you always had to tease him, you always challenged him. And he was more than willing to play that game with you again… even if he wasn't holding his Y/N in his arms.

"Please..." he turned you around to pull you back to his chest. He smiled, remembering how those Y/E/C irises were the only thing that mattered to him hundreds of years ago… he marveled at how they still enchanted him. And having you in his arms again, so close he could smell your scent again… it made him dizzy. "Call me Aleksander." he whispered into your ear, getting close enough not to touch you but to feel the warmth of your cheek against his.

Was it wise to tell you his name? Absolutely not. Did he regret giving himself up to this moment? The answer came to him after a few seconds.

"Aleksander..." your soft whisper made him shiver. The old memories, the ones he tried to bury in his mind, the ones that were both sweetly blissful and devastating, came back to him. Foolish hope rose in him the moment your brow furrowed as if you, too, recognized the significance of what had just happened.

If he'd had any doubts before, he definitely knew now... he was cursed. And he didn't care enough to break this spell you put on him.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Y/N! Rise and shine, you lazy ass!" you groaned, covering your head with a pillow.

"Go away demon. It's too early for anything." you mumbled, snuggling into my comfy bed. You snorted in surprise when suddenly your friend threw herself on your bed and brutally tore the pillow off your head, laughing like a madwoman. "Y/F/N!"

"What have you been dreaming about?" she asked with a sly smile.

"About nothing." you muttered as you got out of bed and walked over to your closet to pick out your outfit for today.

"Yes? Is that why I found you grinning like a psychopath in love and mumbling someone's name? Is there some poor guy you finally like? Who could it be? A soldier? Maybe a nobleman?" you huffed in amusement as you walked out from the wardrobe.

"I haven't gone crazy yet. The world will burn before I voluntarily muzzle myself with marriage."

"Doesn't change the fact that someone caught your eye, does it?" she inquired with a curious smirk.

"Let's go, you hopeless romantic. I believe you dragged me out of bed over that very exciting tea time with the queen." you sighed, knowing full well that this meeting would give you a terrible headache.

"We're going to suffer together, sweetie. But cheer up. Genya will be there. You've liked her company lately, haven't you?"

"She's too good for these royal assholes." you replied, taking her arm and walking out of your room towards the palace gardens.

During that month, you quickly fit into the role you had to play at court. And thanks to your numerous travels, you managed to win enough favour with the queen to become a permanent member of her "group of snobbish noblewomen". You also met Genya, Grisha, an angel among the palace demons who was rather unpopular at court… well, at least not when the queen didn't need her Grisha's skills.

The meeting with the queen dragged on as usual, you couldn't help but wander your mind to your today's dream interrupted by Y/F/N.

"Aleksander!" you laughed, punching him lightly in the chest. "Stop teasing me."

"I don't do anything, milaya." he replied smiling innocently which made you snort. You crossed your arms and gave him a meaningful look.

You were in the little library at his house. (By the way, it's a miracle that he and Baghra found a place for their books in such a tiny hut.) You tried to get to one of the books on the upper shelves, but Aleks had other plans. He stood in front of you, and every time you stood on tiptoe to reach the book, he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into a kiss.

"You do not?" you asked, trying to get to the book, but Aleksander caught your lips in a kiss again. "Aleksander!" you huffed, punching him in the chest with a laugh. "Your mother will kill me if I don't at least start reading this book." you complained, laughing at the smug man. He was so childish sometimes... You squealed as Aleksander suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you close, burying his nose in your hair.

"I am more than strong enough to protect moya milaya from my bloodthirsty mother." he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Aleksander." you moaned as he moved his lips to your neck. You ran your hand through his hair, giving in to the feeling for a moment, until you remembered what you were supposed to do today. "How about a compromise?"you asked, taking his attention away from your neck for a moment.

"A compromise? And how do you want to negotiate your freedom, lapushka?"

"I'm not blind. I see you're clingier than usual today. Of course you won't let me out of your arms, which I can't really say I'm complaining about… But since I'm about to spend the rest of the day on your lap or in your arms, then you could at least read me the book Baghra told me to learn by heart." he was thinking, rubbing his nose against yours.

"I think I can accept it." you squealed in surprise as he picked you up bridal style, lifting you up so you could reach the book you needed. "But I reserve the right to give you some breaks. As your beloved I've got to make sure my little tribrid doesn't overwork herself." you giggled, making his smile of satisfaction only grow wider.

"What a good and caring lover you are, Aleksander." you teased, knowing full well what the study breaks were for… or rather, for whom.

"Have you ever doubted it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, the sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes only made your mood more up. You loved seeing him so happy, carefree.

"No. Never." you whispered, kissing him with all your love and tenderness…

Such nonsense dreams have plagued you almost every time since you met the general. Visions of his younger self and yours, as if the two of you lived together hundreds of years ago. It also didn't help your plan that, for some strange reason, you felt this... attraction, this desire to be close to him.

You didn't know where your sudden fondness for the Darkling came from, but one thing was certain. You had to get rid of it. And that's before your father presents the king with plans to permanently disband the Second Army and return all the Grishas to the slave system. You couldn't give in to some stupid feeling towards their general... not when everything you and your father had worked for was coming to an end.

"Lady Petrova. You're surprisingly quiet today." the queen has distracted you from the thoughts that have plagued you for weeks. You put on your learned, polite smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I'm not feeling well today. I think I have a slight migraine, but it should pass soon, Your Highness."

"You look paler than usual… Genya, lady Y/F/N. Take lady Y/N to the healers." you had to do your best to keep the frown from appearing on your face. This old witch…

"Your Grace." instead, you bowed to the queen and walked away with the two women at your side. You didn't speak to Genya until you were sure you were out of earshot of anyone other than the three of you. "I'm fine, Genya. I just had to get out of there."

"Then I should thank you for saving me from there too." she replied with a smile as tired as yours. "But the queen was right. You looked a little pale earlier. Are you sure everything's okay? I can improve your appearance and cover up those little dark circles under your eyes if you want."

"No need, sweetheart. But if you somehow have power over dreams, it would be really helpful." you joked, knowing full well that Grisha are incapable of entering other people's dreams… though you doubted it after the general's face haunted you at night in those strange dreams.

"It would be great to be able to do that."

"Anyway, thank you, Genya. You can hide somewhere in the palace. You deserve some time off." the woman nodded to you and headed towards the Grand Palace, leaving you and Y/F/N alone in the gardens.

"Okay, what's the matter? What are you dreaming about that you can't sleep? And why are you hanging around Grishas and Darkling lately? You want to settle him down or something?" your friend asked annoyed. You looked around, making sure you two were still alone.

"I'm not going to settle him down. My father wanted me to take care of our strong, dark general. After all, what's the best way to steer a man who doesn't care about anyone but his people, than an affair with a pretty, nobel woman?" you asked with a cunning smile.

You preferred to keep your strange dreams to yourself… at least until you were sure it was just a stupid figment of your imagination and growing teenage crush on a dark general.

"I don't quite understand… so what exactly are you doing with him?" she asked, growing suspicious as you headed towards the Little Palace.

"It's just a game. I charm him with my beauty, spend time with him, and so on, which makes him less interested in the war, and I don't have to put up with my father's complaining about me finally getting married. I serve both Ravka and my own interests. Isn't it wonderful?"

"You'll get burned. Be careful with him. He's a Darkling. If he finds out…" she warned you, slightly scared. You snorted, shaking your head. You looked around one more time before whispering conspiratorially to her.

"Then what will he do to me? It's in his interest to keep our little affair as a secret, the dignity of a man and all that crap won't let him seek revenge openly - he'll only embarrass himself even more. I'm perfectly safe." you replied confidently as you left the gardens. You smiled. According to your plan, the general should leave his palace right now to meet the council. It was your job to make sure he didn't get there… well, at least not for the most part.

"If you say so… But you have to admit, even you, that he's hot."

"That's true... which only makes it more interesting..." you saw Kirigan coming out of the Little Palace with one of his loyal dogs by his side... Ivan or the other, you couldn't remember. You smiled slyly, sensing a good opportunity. "Excuse me."

You didn't waste any time. You immediately approached the general, inwardly triumphant with the smile he sent you as soon as he saw you… the grimace on his companion's face was also the reason for your good mood.

"Lady Petrova."

"General Kirigan. So you do occasionally leave the Little Palace."

"Indeed it happens sometimes." he smiles back at your teasing, keeping his distracting dark eyes on you.

"Then I can't pass up this opportunity to take you anywhere other than the path leading to the Grand Palace or the gardens. It's a beautiful day for a ride, don't you think? Perhaps you could accompany me?"

"Actually…"

"It's a wonderful idea. Ivan, could you get our horses ready?" the general interrupted his Girsha. You lowered your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling victoriously. As Ivan passed you, you stepped closer to the general and turned your careful gaze back to him.

"He doesn't like me very much, does he?" you asked, catching the arm he offered you as you two walked to the stables together. "Your gruff companion." you added seeing his confused look.

The general snorted, placing his hand over yours, which made you shiver uncontrollably. You internally chastised yourself for such a… pathetic reaction to his little touch.

"Ivan is… specific." he finally replied making you chuckle.

"I saw the look he gave me when I took you away from him, like I was stealing his favorite cuddly toy." Kirigan snorted, which made you smile. You felt how your cheeks redden involuntarily at the sound of his laughter. "You don't have to always defend your people at all costs, General. Well, at least not in such a case." you replied with a smirk.

"Ivan is a good soldier and comrade… he can be funny once you get to know him."

"Then I guess you find volcra hilarious too."

"And maybe one or two of the queen's nobles." you gave him an offended look, placing your hand over your heart in a hurt gesture.

"Ouch. That's good that my company at least gives you some fun. It must be really hard to always be that grave, grumpy, dark general."

"Surely it can be lonely sometimes." his thoughtful, sombre statement ruined the fun atmosphere between you two.

For a brief moment, you could see the familiar twinkle of grief in his eyes before he hid it behind his mask of indifference. You knew that feeling. Especially after being transferred to different courts so many times. You had to master your emotions to perfection… especially the feeling of loneliness that was getting worse every day.

"Well, that's good that I have enough time to play a foolish, wayward, snobbish noble around you… maybe you won't feel so lonely, anymore." you joked, not knowing if you were saying it out of a duty to get close to him or from the depths of your completely lost and confused heart, which always acted like that near him.

"You're not the worst noblewoman I've ever met." the amused note returned to his voice, as did the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Maybe you just didn't know me good enough?" you asked, stopping by the stables and letting go of his arm.

"Maybe..." he replied thoughtfully, not letting go of your hand.

You turned back to him. Your gaze lingered on your joined hands for a moment, until you shifted your confused gaze to him.

The moment your eyes met his, any questions you wanted to ask him escaped your mind. You could only stare blankly into his eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you flashed an image of the younger Aleksander you dreamed of... the exact same one who was giving you an affectionate look like the general was doing now.

"Aleksander." you whispered, not even realising when the idea of saying his name popped into your head.

You were besotted, too mesmerised by the dark irises that stared at you like some saint, like you were all he ever wanted to look at for the rest of his life, to think of anything other than getting closer to him.

And the worst of it all was that you had no idea how you knew the smell of his cologne and why it reminded you of home, of safety. Or why he seemed so familiar to you…

"Yes, milaya?" you trembled. You knew he felt it; you knew he saw how you reacted to the nickname his younger version gives you every night in your dreams… and although it reminded you of something only a close person could say to their beloved, for the hell you didn't know what it meant or how he knew about it. But before you could answer something (or take the one little step that lasted between you and him to feel his lips on yours), Ivan arrived with your horses. "Thank you, Ivan." the general cleared his throat. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't happy about being interrupted either.

"General. Let me remind you that in two hours…"

"Postpone all my appointments. I'll be unavailable." you couldn't help but send Ivan a victorious smile from behind Kirigan's shoulder, which made heartrender wince. Aleksander turned to glance at you, and you gave him a nice, polite smile, making sure the flash of malice disappeared from your eyes. The man shifted his confused looks to Ivan. "I'll be back tonight. Lady Petrova needs an escort."

"Of course, General, have a nice trip."

"Thank you, Ivan."

You gave Grisha a fleeting glance and malicious smile before you and Aleksander left the palace grounds. Ivan has tried to stop the general from joining you more than once this month... he has failed miserably each time. Seeing Grisha grumpier than usual was another advantage of your quest... besides being with Aleksander.

"Wanna race?!" you shouted, not giving him time to answer as you galloped your horse along, laughing as the general chased after you.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Forgotten fountain in the middle of the forest? I didn't think you knew such romantic places, general." you said with a teasing smile as you dismounted from your horses.

"You find it romantic?" he asked, throwing an amused glance over his shoulder as he tossed out the branches in the fountain. You smiled, internally laughing at how the great general commanding the entire Second Army was preparing the atmosphere for your pseudo date.

"Oh, don't tease me. You know what I meant. It's amazing that with your work schedule you have time to wander around and find places like this."

"You do realize I have free time sometimes, right?"

"Rearranging figures on a war table is no leisure time, General." Kirigan snorted, shaking his head in amusement. You smiled as you walked over to the fountain to stand next to him. Only then did you see what was so amazing about her that the general brought you here. It was dedicated to the Black Heretic. "Wait… that's your ancestor's story, isn't it?"

"You know it just from those old pictures?" he asked, apparently impressed with your knowledge, to which you snorted indignantly.

"Of course. Every child in Ravka know his story... well, or at least they should. To be honest, I'm not sure how ignorant the other nobles are, but I hope they're not that bad after all. But I'm guessing you didn't bring me here for a history lesson, did you?"

"When I was a boy, I used to run away and hide here once I realised I was the descendant of the most hated Grisha in Ravka. I've come here to throw a coin and make a wish in the fountain that I could be anyone else."

"A dangerous wish." I murmured as I looked at the pictures on the fountain to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "You never know what fate may befall you. It may turn out that things weren't so bad after all." I replied, remembering all the stories of noblewomen I had the opportunity to know... not all of them lived wonderful, fairy-tale lives. At least not the ones with powdered bruises.

"I devoted my life to undoing the greatest sin of my forbear. But I never seen this as a solution. Only as a reminder of the problem. They always need someone to blame."

"Every story needs a villain." you replied, sitting on the edge of the fountain, facing the general. "Sometimes it happens that there are several of them in one, if we look at the matter from the perspective of someone else. So forgive me if I say that I don't consider your ancestor to be evil incarnate."

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked curiously, walking over to you and sitting across from you.

"Every coin has two sides. Maybe he created a fold; maybe he wanted more power, but no one ever told it from his side. Maybe he wasn't the only villain in this story. Also, I don't believe in a golden hero and a vicious villain fighting doggedly against each other. There are no pure black or white people; we are all grey in our own way." you said, dipping your hand in the water, playing with it, and making small waves with your hand movements.

You glanced at the general, noticing that he was closely watching as you played with the water. You furrowed your brow, not knowing what so interesting he sees in this childish behaviour.

"And how gray are you?" his question snapped you out of your thoughts. You shrugged, still running your fingers through the water.

"I think I still have a long way to go to find out."

"What if I already know?" you frowned as you looked at him, which turned out to be your worst mistake. His dark eyes were to be your undoing…

You felt it again. This need to be close to him, this bond between you and him that was formed from the moment your eyes met in the ballroom a month ago. You were supposed to be his undoing, the downfall of the great, black general... so far, he's been the one who's been messing with your mind effectively, making you doubt everything your father ever taught you about your superiority over the Grishas. And you played the role Kirigan expected of you, like a foolish, naive girl.

"And how would you know that?" you whispered, cursing yourself for the obvious weakness in your voice.

Kirigan placed his hand on yours, the one you used to lean on at the fountain. His touch sent that weird feeling into your chest and made you shiver uncontrollably again. You were losing control… and the worst part was that you didn't mind at all.

"I feel like I've known you and waited for you my whole life. As if you were long lost part of me, which finally came back." you couldn't get rid of that terrible feeling of déjà vu that came over you after his words.

Somewhere in the back of your mind and deep in your heart, you had the feeling—no, you were SURE—that you had been in this situation before. That he once held your hand, telling you that you were destined to be together and that the stars, fate, destiny, saints, gods, or whoever was watching over you were responsible for bringing your souls together.

But it was impossible. You didn't know him before, you couldn't. You've never been to the king's palace until now…

However, everything ceased to matter the moment he leaned in, crossing the short distance between you and catching your lips in a kiss.

You gasped in surprise, your only warning being his tighter grip on your hand, which you only noticed after his soft lips gently pressed against yours. However, you had the sense to return his kiss, deepening it just as you felt Aleksander about to pull away from you.

He grabbed your waist tightly with one arm, pulling you to him, but he never let go of his firm grip on your hand.

You groaned, sinking into the so damn familiar closeness of his body against yours, taking in every ounce of his warmth and scent. But it was his gentle biting on your bottom lip that made you forget anything other than his lips on yours and let yourself get completely lost in the moment. You took your hand out of the water, grabbing the back of his head to get as close to him as possible, when suddenly a huge wave of cold, chilly water splashed you.

You gasped, breaking away from Kirigan. You sighed as cool water dripped from your hair onto your already-soaked dress that was sticking to your skin. You shifted your confused gaze to the equally wet man in front of you, who stared at you with an incomprehensible, fascinated twinkle in his eye.

"What have just happened?" you gasped, glancing at the now empty fountain.

"Are you asking about our kiss or the fact that you just demonstrated tidemaker's abilities?"

"What? No. I can't be Grisha. I…"

"Have you ever been tested, milaya?" he asked softly, so calmly he almost managed to calm your frantically beating heart. But you couldn't shake the feeling of panic rising within you. All plans would go to hell if you turned out to be… one of THEM.

"You know perfectly well what it is like among the nobles. They would rather kill or throw away a child with such powers." you replied, marvelling at how you managed to sound cold and emotionless despite your growing fear.

Kirigan frowned, obviously dissatisfied with your ability to cover up your emotions. What you didn't know was that your eyes betrayed all your emotions to him. He'd stared at them for so long that it would be impossible for him now not to be able to read your emotions.

"Well… it's always better to know, isn't it?" you stared at him for a moment before you nodded uncertainly, swallowing nervously. You couldn't be Grisha. That… whatever happened, it couldn't be it. "May I?" he made sure, pointing to the sleeve of your dress. You nodded silently.

For a moment, the world stops. It's just you and the general, who, with unusual delicacy for him, rolls up the sleeve of your wet dress and uses his sharp-pointed ring to cut your skin.

You're both shocked and oddly excited to see the water gushing out and the hot fire coming from where he cut your skin. Suddenly, a wind rises around you, drying you both and blowing some of the leaves off the trees into the empty fountain. You freeze, feeling the dormant power coursing through your veins, which the general's touch awakens with incredible ease.

It's like he's bringing to life a version of yourself you don't know...

"You are a Grisha. Etherealki Tribrid to be precise." he says, breaking the silence between you. You raise your confused gaze back to him, noticing that he's still studying your face. Weighing, evaluating, expecting something, and having hope so clearly written in his dark eyes that for a moment you are at a loss for words.

"You… you don't seem surprised." you manage to get out of you. You are terrified of your weakness right now. But with the general staring at you with such... tenderness and longing, you're not sure which of you has put your heart in more danger. You just don't know what caused this sudden, overt display of affection for you.

"I felt your power. Only someone special could carry such a huge amount of energy. You and I are going to change the world, Y/N."

"But… I can't… no one can know about this. Please, Aleksander." you pleaded in a panic, gripping his hand tightly. "Promise me that this will stay between us. If my father finds out about this… if the court finds out… Please, Aleksander." the man was staring at you. Apparently, the prospect of having a tribrid in his army was too tempting for him to just forget what had happened here. You had to convince him otherwise. "Wouldn't it be better if it stayed between us? You could train me yourself. Secretly teach me how to use… this. Wouldn't it be better to have a secret weapon? Someone who can be summoned to the battlefield if needed and used as an element of surprise?"

"I don't want to use you." he growled, wrinkling his nose as he realized how sharp his words had come out. "I want you to be my equal, Y/N. But fine. We'll keep everything that happened here to ourselves. You'll come to my office every night so we can train."

"Every night? You want to cause a scandal, General?" you ask, regaining your ability to joke and banter.

For now, you hide all your doubts, fear and greyness that your life will change irreversibly in the back of your head. You allow yourself to get lost in the general's eyes for a while before returning to real life… before you have to decide what to do about the "Grishas case", knowing your newfound abilities now.

"Do you care?" you know what he's asking you, but he doesn't know how many different meanings his question has for you. And you're afraid that once he finds out about your plan against him and against his people, he'll stop looking at you with that... adoration in his eyes. Because, for some strange reason, you want him to look at you like that.

"No…" you replied, moving your gaze between his mouth and eyes. "I guess not."

~•♤♤♤•~

"I can't believe it! How did you know that was my favorite dish?!" I ask him after another grueling session of our training as he returns with a dinner brought to his door by servants.

"I have my ways." he responds, laughing as you practically pounce on the food ravenously. You didn't realize that using Grisha's powers was so… exhausting.

"Just like my allergy to the awful pollen that's out now, what particular, specific type of tea do I like, and what books do I prefer to read? What's next? Just hand me my favourite flowers and tell me it's pure case?" you laugh over your plate, glancing at him briefly. The general blushes slightly and clears his throat awkwardly. "Oh, Saints, you do have flowers for me, don't you?" you asked as a little smirk started to form on your face.

"It seems to you, vain little tribrid." you tremble at his words, and that sick feeling of deja vu follows you every time his damn dark irises pierce your soul. If he wanted you to go crazy, you're sure he was well on his way to making it happen.

Aleksander, on the other hand, stared longingly at you, searching for any trace of recognition in your eyes. How many times in those training sessions has he wished your memories of living with him would come back to you? He didn't know. Ever since he made sure you displayed the powers of virtually all ethereals, he's spent countless sleepless nights in his bed dreaming of the moment you'll whisper that damn nickname you love for him.

But nothing like that was coming.

Instead, he had to fight this urge to kiss you to death, to hold you forever in his safe arms where nothing could hurt you. He had to fight his longing for your slightest touch, your tender gaze, and the unconditional love you had. And with each passing day, he cursed himself for his inability to remember the life you two had spent together.

He was desperate enough to talk to his mother about it. He went to her as soon as he was sure it was really you to brag about his hunch and victory over her judgement. And complain about your innate ability to spite him and not remember him when he worked so hard to make it happen.

"If it's not her, then explain to me how she's already ruining all my plans and is getting on my nerves?" he asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow at Baghra.

"Just because you have a natural bad luck with women doesn't mean Y/N is back from the dead." she replied ironically, not even looking up at him.

"It is her. And when I prove it, forget about seeing her, because I won't let you."

"I'm not a spoiled child, General." you laugh back, snapping him out of his thoughts as cool water hits his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you, failing to keep an amused smile from spreading across his lips.

Saints, how he wants to kiss that malicious smirk off your alluring lips. But he has to be careful with you. He has to control himself. He can't lose you or scare you away now, not when he's so close to getting HIS Y/N back.

"You're definitely acting like one." he replies teasingly as he takes out the flowers hidden behind his back and hands them to you.

You sigh in shock before another heart-melting smile appears on your lips. You dip your nose in the flowers, and Aleksander tries to remember this moment forever. The silent hope that you will remember one of the many times he gave you those special flowers you loved bursts into unwillingness in his chest.

"Please, as if you don't like to spoil me…" you just reply teasingly, reminding him how fate was never on his side. It would be impossible for him to just get you back like that.

"I'd throw all the jewels in the world at your feet just to see that beautiful, wide smile spread across your lips." you tremble under his heavy, intent gaze, feeling him ignite that familiar, strange fire inside you, calling for him.

The answer to his confession just slipped out of your mouth as a whisper.

"You don't need jewels to make me smile like a fool in love."

Aleksander flinched as he recognised the words you said to him—the exact same words you used in response to his confession hundreds of years ago. You liked torturing him with it. Remind him of stolen moments with you in the woods, away from the king's men, his mother, and other envious people too scared of your abilities to see you as anything more than a dangerous monster. You loved throwing him into the past, while you stuck hard to what was happening now. At times like this, he promised himself that once he had you back, he would never let you go. He won't be that weak to let someone take you from him again.

You, in turn, watched him bewildered as another vision/memory flashed before your eyes. His warm lips on your wind-cold skin, his whispered promises in your ear as he held you close to him, his shadows dancing around you, shielding anyone from seeing you two.

That memory revived in your mind as the general's lips met yours.

Kissing him, enjoying the firm grip around your waist, you had those strange visions again. You were beginning to wonder if the general had seen through your cunning plan and decided to punish you by driving you crazy with these supposed memories.

But you didn't want to do anything about it. Not when he felt so good against you.

You kiss him greedily, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him closer to you. He picks you up, placing you on his war table. Your hands travel up his shoulders to the buttons of his kefta and his to the strings of your corset at the back of your dress...

Just then, a loud knock interrupts you.

You laugh in disbelief that they're bothering you again. Aleksander smiles, biting his lip as he looks at you with amusement in his eyes. How he missed your sincere, carefree laugh.

"Go see what it is." you whisper to him as you slide off the table to stand on your own feet. Aleksander smirks mischievously and leans in to steal a kiss from you. You giggle as you push him away and whisper a softly "go".

You blush, feeling like a teenager caught kissing a boy. And you have a very strange feeling that this has happened before...

"Aleksander!" you squeal, laughing as quietly as you can. "Someone will see us!" you reprimand him by tapping him lightly in the chest.

"Only if you keep being so loud. Besides, how can you blame me for wanting to kiss my beautiful beloved after weeks apart?"

"Your secret beloved I would like to point out. Baghra and my parents will kill us if they find us here." you remind him, only smiling wider as his grip tightens around your waist.

"They'll have to go through my shadows first… that gives us enough time to escape."

"Well, well, what a cunning boyfriend I have. I like that plan of yours." I whisper into his lips, teasing him, as I move away each time he wants to kiss me.

"Y/N?" Aleksander's whisper and his gentle grip on my shoulder pulls me out of my memories. "Everything's all right?" he looks at you with concern in his eyes and something else, something like longing mixed with hope. You have no idea what it could be.

NO. I have strange visions of you where you love and need me more than anything in this world. I have dreams of a reality where it's just us, too busy loving ourselves to see anything else or care about all the problems in the world. And I have a feeling that I'm going to go crazy if you once again arouse in me that feeling of familiarity and fire that for some unknown reason cries out desperately for your slightest touch and affection. - you think.

"I'm fine, just thought of something. What did Ivan want from you?" I ask with a gentle smile.

"I have to go now. The First Army soldiers and my Grishas have reportedly gotten into some kind of fight. I need to investigate it."

You freeze, knowing full well what's going on. Your and your father's plan. Kirigan is about to get into the middle of a fight caused by the people of the first army (actually hired by your father's thugs). A fight with a general defending his people in the main role will start, which your father and the king are supposed to come across by "pure accident". You were supposed to let him get into your trap.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry, it's probably some stupid skirmish." he assures you, but you know better. You know that once he goes there, he will be banished at best for suspicion of treason and wanting to start a rebellion - rumours your father is now spreading to the king.

Your brain screams for you to let it go. You were Grisha, but people like you would never accept you; you knew that. And the nobles would kick you out if they found out about your powers; it was safer for you to get rid of the general, the only person who knew about your abilities.

But your stupid heart already bled at the thought of putting Aleksander in danger and being the cause of his downfall—the thing you were supposed to be so proud of only a few months ago.

"Wait!" you scream, reaching for his hand before he steps away from you. You lost. You lost the war with the devil and sold him your heart and the soul he had anyway, since he kissed you at the fountain, since he started appearing in your dreams as a strange vision of an alternate world where you live with him as his. A vision you desperately wanted to come true. "Please don't go."

"Why?" he asks, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

"I... you can't... trap... my father... and king... they..." you hyperventilate, tears welling up in your eyes uncontrollably, and an indescribably great feeling of unease seizes you, making it a huge challenge to take even the slightest breath.

Suddenly, all you hear is a buzzing in your ears. Slowly, your knees weaken, and you fall straight into the waiting arms of Aleksander, who looks like he's screaming something. You are enveloped in blissful darkness.

But before you lose your consciousness one thought runs through your mind.

What the hell did I did?

~•♤♤♤•~

You opened your eyes. It was dawn. You were in a clearing near some castle ruins. There were a lot of soldiers around you.

You slowly got up on your elbows and lifted yourself off the ground. You tried to push your way through the crowd of soldiers, but as soon as your arm was about to touch one of them, you felt yourself walking through it. You froze in place.

The sound of Aleksander's voice snapped you out of your daze. You walked forward, passing through the soldiers as you reached the stairs of the palace ruins.

It was a younger version of him, exactly the one you saw in your dreams. But this time it wasn't a pleasant dream. The love in his eyes was replaced by pure fear and fury.

You turned to where he was staring and gasped as you spotted a beaten, bloodied version of yourself held by one of the king's soldiers.

"Surrender. Or your girl will die." Aleksander stared at the younger version of you, trying to make eye contact with you, making sure you were still holding on to your life for him, despite the gruesome state you were in. "This one was brave. She was willing to die than reveal your hiding place. Fortunately, we got another, weaker one. Now, you better hurry before that bitch bleeds to death."

Tears began to form in Aleksander's eyes. He raised his trembling hands in surrender. You lifted your head with difficulty, watching him.

Then all hell broke loose. You set a soldier on fire and started a great fire. You tried to approach Aleksander and he came to you, but the soldiers around you were faster. One of them caught you; the rest kept Aleksander, who was struggling with all his strength, from rushing to your rescue and summoning his shadows. The soldier drew his dagger.

Your eyes and Aleksander's did not separate for a moment. Desperation and fear were reflected in his eyes, which met your gaze full of sadness and fear for his life.

"Aleksander, I love you-AGH!" you tell him when a soldier pierces your heart with a dagger in front of your beloved.

"Y/N!" Aleksander screams, tears in his eyes obscuring his vision at your last breath and your last look at him. He is overcome with rage, grief, and frustration so great that he can do nothing but scream.

His scream proves deadly. Deadly for his enemies.

His grief, desperation, and tremendous pain piercing his heart and seeing his beloved Y/N die raised within him a power so great that it covered the world in the darkness of his shadow.

And so the fold is born.

And Aleksander remains utterly alone in his darkness.

~•♤♤♤•~

You jump out of bed, screaming. You just saw yourself die... but it wasn't you, was it? It's just your twisted imagination. Aleksander couldn't... couldn't create the fold. The Black Heretic lived hundreds of years before you; it couldn't be true. It's just your sick imagination. You kept telling yourself.

You looked around the room, recognising that you were in the general's bedroom. You changed out of his black shirt, which you don't know who put you in, and left the bedroom in a hurry. You didn't know how Aleksander would treat you after he found out about your father's plan, and he certainly did after your panic attack in his war room. You also didn't want to risk getting caught in the general's chamber.

You were about to leave Aleksander's chamber, but someone's hand grabbed your arm tightly and covered your mouth. You tried to wriggle out of his attacker's grip, but in vain. Fortunately, the stranger let you go as soon as you entered one of the secret passages of the Little Palace.

You turned around, freezing as you came face to face with the woman haunting your dreams…

"Who are you?" you whispered in horror, recognizing the woman as the light from her torch illuminated her face.

"It doesn't matter. You need to get out of here as soon as possible." she grabbed your hand again in a strong, bruising grip, but this time you managed to pull away from her.

"Who the hell are you?! Why am I dreaming about you and some Aleksander?! How do I know you, Baghra?!"

"Hush for the saints! We're not far from his room." she tried to silence you, fearing that at any moment you would bring Aleksander back to his chambers here.

"Whose room? General's? What does he have to do with it? What the hell is going on here?!"

"Shut up you stupid girl before he comes here. I'm trying to save you."

"Saved me from what? I don't need a hero, thank you very much. All I want to know is why I'm having these fucking visions about you. Who are you? Why am I having some weird flashbacks about you from hundreds of years ago?" you ask, tired of it all, trying to finally get to the truth, whatever it may be.

"Aleksander was right… it's true. It's really you." she says in shock, eyeing you closely as you use all your powers in anger, summoning both fire, water and a light breeze in the deserted secret passage.

"Aleksander? Which one? Kirigan or some other? Answer me for the love of saints!" you scream at her, feeling like you're about to lose your mind at any moment.

"Child, there is only one Aleksander. My son. Aleksander Morozova. Black Heretic. General Kirigan and many other names he's taken since you died."

"What? What are you talking about? It's impossible, a Black Heretic lived hundreds of years ago… wait. Since I died? What do you mean by since I die?" the vision you just had haunts you again. Your blood, Alexander's screams. Screams of people turned by his grief, anger and rage into volcra as he creates a fold...

"You real name is Y/N…"

"BAGHRA!" Aleksander's furious scream echoes through the deserted corridor. He walks over to me faster than I can blink and stands between me and his supposed mother. "Go away."

"Aleksander..." she begins in a serious tone, but one dark look from the general keeps her silent. Never, not even during their worst quarrels, had he dared to oppose her so openly, so hostilely.

"I said... Go. Away." Baghra looks at you. Half in disappointment, half in fear, knowing full well the reason why her son is ready to use his shadows on her.

She lets go. This time. She knows full well he can't bring back your memories anyway. Or at least she hopes so.

Shee leaves you alone in a dark corridor. Aleksander slowly turns to you and reaches for you, but you pull away before his fingertips even try to touch you. He freezes. He watches you fearfully, afraid of what Baghra might have told you to make you so disgusted by his small touch.

"Don't take a step further. Why do I know you? Why did YOU know me before anything started between us? What the hell is this all about?!"

"Y/N... you need to calm down." he tries to calm you down as he sees you gasping for breath again. He reaches out to touch your cheek tenderly but you jump away from him. The fire begins to slowly circulate around your hands as you unknowingly summon it.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME! Who are you? Who are you to me? That's true? Are you a Black Heretic? What is going on here?!" you scream, you feel an indescribable power flowing through you that you are unable to control, a flood of emotions floods your mind, and your powers go out of control as a great wind rises and the corridor begins to slowly fill with water. The fire in your hands grows bigger, more alive, more uncontrollable.

"My milaya, please... try to calm down for me." he says, taking a step towards you with his hands up so you can see his every little move, every attempt to touch you.

"What am I?" you whisper, your tears flow freely, the water begins to rise faster and faster, the wind is so great that it blows both his and your hair and his black kefta in all directions, and the living fire from your hands prevents him from approaching you without risk of burning himself. But Aleksander doesn't care.

He wades towards you through the water that comes up to his hips and cups your face with both hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. As soon as his skin touches yours, everything stops. The wind stops blowing, the fire disappears, and the water stops at a constant level. It is quiet. Eerily silent as you stare at him in a daze, tears dripping from your eyes into the makeshift river you created in the hallway.

"You know who you are. Just reach for it. Please, come back to me, Y/N Y/L/N. Moya milaya, moya lapushka..." he pleads, resting his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes. The flood of vivid memories makes your head hurt, but as soon as all the images are gone from your eyes, you open them to look into those familiar dark irises that pierce through you. And you cry with relief, finally knowing perfectly well how you know him, why you associate him with home, peace, love, unconditional devotion.

"Sasha?" you whisper, afraid you've gone completely insane, that it's all a nasty, twisted figment of your imagination.

And Aleksander sighs with relief hearing that damn diminutive he missed so much.

"It's me. My beloved Y/N. My life. My Light. My tribrid. You are finally here." he takes you in his arms as tears flow freely down your cheeks. You snuggle into him, your nose brushing his neck as you inhale the damn good smell of his perfume. Aleksander buries his nose in your hair, trying to hold back tears as he trembles uncontrollably. He finally had you. After hundreds of years, months of torture where he had you at his fingertips but couldn't touch you properly, you were finally with him. "Eya fyela chi." he whispers in old Ravkan, making you laugh in relief.

"I love you too, Sasha. I promise I'm not going anywhere anymore. Nobody and nothing will take me away from you."

"Brave of you to think I'd let you go anywhere. You stay by my side. Forever. I won't waste such a wonderful gift from the saints, my little flame." he says, kissing your temple.

You shiver for the first time enjoying the familiar feeling of love and warmth that comes with this tender gesture, often repeated by him in the past.

He leaned in, catching your lips in a passionate, long-awaited kiss. And you couldn't do anything other than enjoy the taste of his lips on yours and how you could create new memories with him without the old ones attacking you with every touch he made. You are no longer an intruder in your own body. And the unknown fire calling for him turned into the familiar flame of love.

[butchbarneygumble]

Imagine how I must feel as one of the only fans of Mighty Magiswords. You know. A headcanons-and-fanfic kind of fan. I even cosplayed Prohyas once.

Of course, it's nothing compared to what the actual victims went through... I'm fine. But it still felt like a part of my identity has been permanently soured. I don't want to seem like I somehow have it worse, that's not my intention. Nothing bad happened to me personally. I'm only posting my own side of how I deal with the situation, to get some closure myself and show solidarity with the victims.

I don't admire him anymore, and that's putting it lightly.

Full story under cut. Content warning for non-graphic discussion of csa.

The news came to me from my ex-but-still-friend. He told me privately, out of nowhere, just dropped it on me. Like, "Hey, sorry to tell you, but the guy you like got arrested for csa". However, I am glad he told me rather than me having to find out on my own.

The news hit me, and I felt nothing in my body. I usually would get this painful fight-or-flight all through my body whenever I read something that upset me, something I've been training myself to get better with. But right now? I just felt like... "huh. That happened." It helped a lot that Magiswords wasn't my fixation of the moment. And like... it's been like I've been slipping away from it. Like I didn't need it anymore.

More and more people were talking about him, and it wasn't positive. Who? Kyle.

I talked to him. Personally, like many people did. He never acted weird to me. I admired him. I loved his art, sent him physical fanart, all that stuff. I knew more than one person said he was not trustworthy but hey, he made a show that saved my life, so it was a constant struggle between feeling like I had to pick sides. I was going through hell by virtue of my dad being terminally sick and needing constant care, so I was gonna ignore the red flags and enjoy my silly sword show that brought me such joy.

Even if as time went on it started get harder and harder.

But you know what a certain depressed horse show said? When you're wearing rose coloured glasses, red flags just look like flags.

I now think dodged a bullet.

What emotions do I feel? Betrayal. Anger. Disgust. Disappointment.

The irony about it all. The sheer painful irony of blacklisting somebody for *drawings*, and then going behind everybody's back to actually hoard *actual* csa, and revenge porn, and all sorts of nasty stuff. For the record: there is nothing wrong with being put off or disgusted by specific sorts of drawings. But the irony here is what's most painful to me. I do not like people using this as a "gotcha" for either side of this tired argument. It's disrespectful to the actual victims.

People say I can easily seperate art from the artist if I want to but... right now I don't think I want to. He's in every pore of its identity. I do not want to talk or think about Magiswords right now, and I don't know if I ever will again.

It meant so much to me. Prohyas felt like Me. Being a goofy capable adult who doesn't stop collecting things he likes just cuz he's an adult. I thought I was trans for a while and the euphoria of relating to Prohyas helped that. Then he got lowkey confirmed nonbinary and I was over the moon.

It was good. Emphasis on "was".

And to the man himself I have one thing to say: you're another one in a long history of cartoon artists who end up being unsavoury, slimy people, taking advantage of young people, especially girls, in the animation industry. Not something to be proud of. I know we talked and you seemed perfectly okay to me, personally. All I can think is thank god it never went beyond casual chats.

I guess I can finally say I never liked the joke about Vambre not liking pants. Sure, sensory issues exist, but I doubt that was the intention of the design. I have deleted my sideblog where I chronicled ooc screencaps of the show and deleted my little spotify playlist of songs that reminded me of the show. I don't want to finish my longfic where Prohyas and Flonk fell in love anymore. I can't even change it into ocs because it's just so ingrained in the show's lore. So yeah, there's that.

I'll be fine. When the news hit I took it surprisingly well. I was going to an Alestorm concert and it was the most fun I had in ages. So yeah, I've got Christopher Bowes and His Plate of Beans to fill the void of comedy music. Was fixating on Simpsons already so there's that in terms of cartoons. I'm fine.

All I can say is my heart goes out to all the victims, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't see you sooner. I hope you can heal and have some semblance of closure now that he's gotten arrested. My heart goes out to all of you and again, I am so so sorry. I wish you all the love and healing.

[kaiju-krew]

Hey there! Firstly, big big fan of your art and headcanons, ty for your cool and awesome big brain ❤️ Now that you’ve seen the movie, I’m wondering what your thoughts are on Shimo??? I’ve just seen impressions of her so scattered. (I saw your post on how she will NOT be treated as a pet, and I so appreciate that.)

I will say, for me the ‘old gal’ vibes are so strong and I’m here for it. Like when Goji blasts his atomic breath into the sky at the end and she’s looking at it with such awe and her cute super gummy smile, it reminds me of when a grandma gets shown some common piece of technology that the rest of us are used to, but she just can’t heckin believe it because she lives in a damn cave??? I loved that.

hi hi! omg u think i have a big brain...... compliment of the century.... i must have ppl fooled bcuz i am viscerally dumb most of the time

anywAYS. gxk spoilers below (and a lot of ranting)

shimo my beloved💙 i appreciate most interpretations of her, besides people who are just straight up caling her a dog. and like, not in the way i’d compare goji to a cat? for me it's more mannerisms based, so for goji my main expression/mannerism inspirations are cats, wolves, and komodo dragons (obviously), and for mosu it's owls and cats, with a crumb of horses because of their 'ear' communication so i use that with her antennae.

sorry for tangent but anyways. i dont need someone barking at me that i call goji a cat/draw him acting like a cat so calling shimo ‘kong’s pet dog’ is fine. i think its the difference between goji having the personality i characterize him with + mannerisms inspired by other animals, vs. him having no personality besides Being A Cat. like, he’s a dumbfuck but he’s clearly an intelligent creature capable of communication and understanding. i make a lot of shitposts but truly in my personal hc i’d never reduce him to ‘pet level intelligence’

i think i’m extra touchy about people calling her ‘kong’s pet’ because like. dawg. did you watch the movie? she was JUST freed from being skar’s slave/beast of burden/abused pet whatever you wanna call it. why would you want her to become another creature’s pet again?(obviously minus the abuse) idk mannn it just feels…. reductive somehow. she clearly shows intelligence and understanding when she realizes what’s happening during the fight and helps to kill skar. i just refuse to reduce her entire character to kong’s pet status bcuz that makes me uncomfortable asf.

as a disclaimer, you’re welcome to have whatever hc you enjoy. me expressing my personal thoughts on the matter isn’t an attack on anyone who characterizes her that way, i’m just not interested in engaging with it in the slightest.

DOUBLE ANYWAYS i just needed to get that outta my system. TIME FOR CUTE FUN IDEAS YAHOOO

i’m seeing mixed info about her age so idk where she actually sits there?? i remember seeing something like she’s the First Titan but i also think the novelization of the movie said she’s only 3 million years old?? when im p sure they’ve said goji is 250+ million years old so…. i have no clue there lol. personally she feels less jaded and grumpy than goji does to me so my brain automatically sees her as similar or younger bcuz of my Grumpy Old Man bias.

i’m still workin out my ideas for her but based on how the movie ends i like to think she helps kong with relocating the apes to a better home, and they mostly live in HE. her n kong venture up for surface dates bcuz she gets what she fucking deserves 💙

goji nearly has an aneurysm the first time they come up, since mosu literally takes them for a lil tour of monster island. bro standing there clenching his fist like the arthur meme, he begrudgingly knows she’s right and eventually he gets used to it

i got more ideas cookin for her but this post is already too damn long cuz of my ranting time to stfu

SHIMO BEST GIRL 10/10

[outlaw-apologist]

The Gang as Fathers (RDR2)

This was an anon request :D Characters: Arthur, Hosea, Dutch, Charles, Sean, Kieran, and Micah TW: Micah’s contains graphic/violent themes Requests are always welcome~ feel free to request anything hehe AO3 link here ___  Arthur - He always pretends to be stern with his child but gives in almost immediately. “You can’t have candy before bed….” He puts on his best mean face that only lasts a few seconds. “Fine, just one piece.” - His baby will learn how to ride a horse before learning how to walk. Arthur will hold his child while caring for the horses or will cradle them in his lap during trail rides. - “I heard a little alcohol was good for babies. Makes ‘em sleep better.” He’ll stick his pinkie finger in some whiskey and will let the baby suck on it to calm down, but only during fitful crying or when his baby won’t sleep.

- As his child grows older he’ll try hard to give them a good education. Not city folk education, but enough to know about the world. There’ve been many times Arthur wished he had gone to school as a kid. - When his child draws for the first time Arthur is SO proud! He shows EVERYONE and keeps the drawing tucked safely in his journal for many many years to come. It doesn’t matter how old his baby gets, he keeps every drawing no matter what. - If Arthur had a daughter I think he would try harder to learn more about women’s rights. He might even visit the protesting lady in Saint Denis and ask her a few questions. He’s seen how the world treats women and he wants to raise a strong woman of his own who will always believe in herself and love herself no matter what. - Also- Daddy daughter dates!!! He would go to all the nice little cafe’s and bakeries with his daughter or would take her on special little picnics. - Camping trips!!!! Every weekend Arthur is packing his kiddo(s) up to go camping. He doesn’t like fishing but he’ll take his kids forging and teach them how to live off the land. When they’re bigger Arthur teaches them how to hunt small animals, like squirrels, with a bow and arrow. At night he cooks dinner over an open fire and sings trail riding songs or tells stories of his days as an outlaw. - If his child ever goes through a tween or teen phase of hating him Arthur WILL cry himself to sleep every. damn. night. wondering what he did wrong. Even if he knows it’s just how kids are at times, it really hurts his feelings. That self loathing part of him mixed with old family wounds never leaves him. - Sorry to any wife or husband of Arthur’s out there – but Arthur would save his child before all else in ANY dangerous circumstance. He’ll save his spouse next but the kid(s) come first. - “When you’re older I’ll give you my hat. It was my daddy’s hat, and now it’s your daddy’s hat. One day it’ll be your hat.” “Hey! Stop playing with my hat!” “Di’ju take my hat to school?  Don’t do it again.” - Even if his children are around people he trusts he will still watch them like a hawk, almost afraid someone will snatch them away. - He really hates being away from his children so he sends letters about his great adventures to them until he can return. - Arthur really doesn’t want his children walking in his footsteps, BUT he does wish they could experience true adventure and freedom. Because of this he’ll plan elaborate activities. Sometimes he creates treasure maps and will take his children riding around the state to find a ‘hidden treasure’ Arthur himself buried. - When his child turns 13 he’ll take them out to find a wild horse of their choosing, then he’d teach them how to tame the horse as a right of passage. It’s an amazing bonding experience between the both of them, and he thinks horses are special animals. Growing up with your horse is a must. - “Seriously gimme my hat!” -- Hosea - Hosea’s always secretly wanted a little one of his own. It doesn’t matter if he has a daughter or a son, that baby will be in his arms 24/7 - Literally wants to raise his child as a mini him – in the most positive way possible. - Bedtime stories were chapter books and his children learn how to read fairly early-on in their childhood. - Every few years Hosea gifts his child a new fishing pole that matches how big they’ve grown. Fishing is very important to him and he makes a point to have a special spot where he camps with his kids and fishes for days. Playing in the rocks and trees, hiding in the fields around the camp when not catching fish. Instead of campfire stories he reads books out loud or retells old memories he finds amusing. - “I want you to understand, the outlaw life is not for everyone.” Hosea is torn. He doesn’t want his children to become outlaws like him… However there’s a part of him he can’t deny where he wishes his child would be there with him no matter where he was. If his child became an outlaw he wouldn’t fully protest it. He’d feel guilty, I think, but he doesn’t want to be away from his kid(s). -That being said, his kid is raised with the Van-Der-Linde gang. Whenever Dutch or Susan tries to parent his child Hosea will always stand up to them. He puts a lot of emphasis on Arthur and John to protect his babies; mostly because he views Arthur and John as his children too, so they should act like good brothers. - He would LOVE taking his kids out to see plays or to the circus whenever the circus is in town. He’ll take them to films too though he prefers the performing arts (theater) first. However, he loves exposing his children to any and all types of art. If his child ever expresses an interest in acting or writing he’d swell with pride and do anything to support them. - Hosea is a smart man. He know he’s living on borrowed time. Making it to your 50’s as an outlaw was no minor feat. There’s money no one knows about, not even Dutch. Money that can set his children for life. He makes sure to bury it carefully and made arrangements for his child to receive a map of its whereabouts in case of his death. - “And that is ursa major and ursa minor.” Star gazing with papa Hosea! - He is firm but empathetic. Hosea will uphold any punishments that he thinks fits the crime. However, he’s never spanked or laid a hand on his kids. He’s more interested in life lessons. If he catches his child stealing then he’ll force them to donate something of theirs to the poor, ect. - If his baby is sick he’ll stay up all night by their bedside checking their fever and making sure they’re okay. He refuses to leave their side and won’t sleep until he knows his baby is okay. - Hosea’s biggest fear is losing his child.   He’s big on teaching his kid safety from a young age, even if that means using a knife or a gun. - For their 18th birthday he’ll gift his child a very beautifully engraved pistol. The engraving will be a quote or a saying that is personal to him and that child. Something with meaning only they would understand. - Even if his child is a full grown adult, Hosea will come read with them at bedtime. It’s something that makes him feel loved and cherished and he hopes his child feels the same way. - You cannot convince me this man would not put on a play with his children. He encourages the gang to act excited or amazed while watching. He’ll shoot a glare at Dutch whenever Dutch acts a little too excited. --- Dutch - Let’s be honest, Hosea raises any and all of Dutch’s children. - No kid friendly books, his children learn how to read philosophy like men. -Will completely destroy his children in any and all board games. He’ll never let them win no matter how young they are. If his kid starts crying he’ll say something snarky like “Aww go cry to mommy/papa Hosea.” - He is definitely the fun parent though. (At least in his opinion). His 10 year old is robbing trains. He’ll rob a candy store too for shits and giggles, just so his little one thinks he’s cool. - He really does love when his child sits on his knee or rides on his shoulders. It makes his heart swell with happiness. - I don’t think Dutch really knows what to do with children. He just treats them as tiny adults. - He will ALWAYS introduce his children with pride. Because of that there’s this… unspoken pressure for his children to always be at their best. They always need to be well articulated or ready for action. Otherwise there might be a dreaded “I thought I taught you better.” speech. - Dutch really did try hard to make sure his children grew up smart and capable. However, if that ever turns them against him or if they question him he immediately gets upset/angry. - His children will grow up calling him daddy and Hosea papa. Dutch might try to correct them a few times. “It’s uncle Hosea-” But he gives up rather quickly. - Dutch does mean well. He tries to take his children on special or fun outings. Unfortunately it always ends up about him or the mood is ruined with a long philosophical rant/speech. - He is not a completely useless father though. If his child is hurt he’s the first one there to scoop them up and console them. He would bandage them up and kiss their boo-boo’s better…. Up until near the end when the gang starts splitting apart. Around this time it seems as if he’s not fully present and so it doesn’t register to him that his child is hurt or injured. He starts to see it as their own personal problem no matter what age they might be. - His children are brought up seeing him as this wise, smart, powerful figure. They view him more as a savior than a loving parent. Basically they’re brought up to view Dutch the same way as the rest of the gang sees him. He provides shelter, clothes, food, and safety. He is the reason they have a free life. And because of this I do think they would have a lot of love for their father, but, they’ll never feel like they’re good enough. - If anyone ever touched a hair on his child’s head… Without fail they’ll end up filled with bullet holes or burnt to a crisp. He’s not great at showing his love but his children are his everything. ----- Charles - Charles is the type of parent that loves his children SO much he doesn’t even need to say a word. His love is always shown through his actions. He’ll gently sweep their hair out of their face or he’ll rub their back. When they’re little kids Charles will always press a little kiss to the top of their heads. - He doesn’t give in as easy as Arthur does. No candy before bed. Eat your dinner before dessert, drink more water, don’t go off alone, ect. He’s never mean about it. Charles tries to make sure his children are as healthy and well looked after as possible. - What if he’s not here one day? What if his past catches up with him or something bad happens? This is always in the back of Charles’ mind. Because of this he teaches his children how to be self sufficient from a young age. He makes a game out of cleaning up and chores become a family activity. He tries to keep it fun for them since they’re still kids. - Children are the future in Charles’ eyes. He teaches his kids everything he knows. They’re taken on hunting trips and out forging or fishing. Charles teaches them how to make bows and arrows. He’ll tell stories about his mother or his experiences. Most of all he teaches his children respect. Respect for nature and all of the animals they may meet. - When Charles’ child is an infant or a baby he will ALWAYS be holding them. Doesn’t matter what he’s doing, that baby will be on his back or in his arms. He LOVES holding his children. It helps ground him and reminds him they’re really his and life can be good. - He won’t admit it but he loves dressing his children up. He likes to make or buy clothing and accessories he thinks would suit them. During winter his favorite part of the day is bundling them up in their coats and scarves. Charles thinks they look adorable toddling off to play in the snow. - HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD GIRL DAD! Charles goes out of his way to learn different hairstyles so he can do his daughter’s hair different every day. I think he’d make jewelry for his daughters and would always be singing with them or playing with them. Charles would be very protective yet respectful. He’d still teach his daughters how to track and hunt, ect. - Charles carries pictures of his children everywhere he goes. On the rare occasion he’s drunk he takes out the pictures to show everyone like “Look at my babies!” - He would be that annoying parent who’s children becomes their personality. He doesn’t talk much but if he’s with someone he’s friends with he’ll casually work his children into all of his small comments. “I need to get some fresh meat for my family.” “My children would love it here.” “I would never let a man like that around my children.” - Charles would totally call his child ‘baby’. “Hi baby!!!” “What do you need baby?” “Oh no, don’t cry baby.” He wouldn’t do it in public but in private???? He is soooo unbearably loving and mushy with his kids. It doesn’t matter how old they are, that’s his baby. - Charles didn’t really have parents while growing up. He wants to show his children as much love, kindness, and compassion as possible. The world is cold and cruel. If he can be the light and warmth for his kids then he’ll do it. - When his children grow up, if they decide to pursue goals/dreams Charles doesn’t fully understand, he will go out of his way to educate himself on that topic just to show them support. -Charles is one of those parents that really don’t want their children to move away from him. If they chose to he’ll respect their wishes but you bet that man will be crying DAILY because he misses his kids. - For the same reasons, Charles can’t be away from his kids more than two days without feeling heartbroken. - Charles would honestly do so well as a single father if he ever becomes one. - He’s a huge fan of gentle parenting. He keeps his voice calm and talks his children through anger/sadness with patience. It’s important for him that his children feel seen and heard. - Charles is the type of father that’ll beat the SHIT out of anyone who messes with his baby. - He’ll play dress-up with his kids. If his children want him to be a princes… he’ll be a mf princess! ------ Sean - God… Sean as a father? The house will be burnt down immediately the first time he watches his kid(s) alone. - He’s the fun parent. He’s also the unsafe parent. He really doesn’t see anything wrong with bringing his 3yo with him on a robbery. “They had a blast, it was great!” - Let’s be real, Sean is more of a friend to his child than an actual parent. He’ll never reinforce any rules. He’s always down to clown. He’ll be your best buddy but he won’t help you with your homework. - It’s fine to give kids alcohol sometimes in his eyes. “Go on, you can have a sip of my beer. It’ll put some hair on your chest.” - If his child isn’t as bubbly or loud as him he’ll be a bit disappointed. If his child matches his energy he’ll be 10x worse. They’ll be working off of the same brain-cell. - Sean loves to dress his children up to look like him. He thinks it’s hilarious. He even calls his baby ‘Baby MacGuire’. “Hello there baby MacGuire.” “D’ju have a good day today little baby MacGuire?” “This is my wee baby MacGuire.” - He has dropped his baby on the head, probably more than once. He felt really bad about it. - He will make his kids do the “two children in a trench coat” thing to rob a store. He literally pisses himself laughing when it actually works. - Half of the gang will end up raising his child while he pops in sometimes to have fun outings with them. -Is he a good parent? Fuck no. But his children will LOVE him and I think they’ll always have a good relationship with him. - Sean has tried to get John to teach his kids how to swim. He doesn’t understand John can’t swim…. - He never forgets a birthday because he loves eating sweets with his kiddos but he WILL forget every other important event. ------ Kieran - I think Kieran would be a really good father! He’d never raise his voice. His punishments are very light, yet he’d make sure his children would know what they did wasn’t right. - He’s not great at socializing with his children, but he LOVES to listen to them. It fills him with so much happiness when his children confide in him. He doesn’t always know what to say but he’ll be there whenever they need him. - If he has a baby he’ll be so afraid of making any noises while the baby is sleeping. If he’s holding his baby as they sleep, Kieran refuses to move in case it wakes them. - He writes the names of his children on the tags of their clothes so they don’t get lost. - Kieran is a doormat for any teenage children. He hates disappointing or upsetting his child, so if he has a teenager who tests his boundaries that teen will win every time. - However, I think his children would love him more than anything. Even if they did do bad things to Kieran I think they’d feel guilty and wouldn’t do it again. - Piggy backing off of that – The best ‘punishment’ Kieran could give his kids is disappointment. If daddy Kieran is disappointed in you then you KNOW you fucked up. Because of this his children end up pretty well behaved. - All Duffy’s grow up around horses. He loves bringing his kids to the stables. Letting them pet and brush the horses. He holds them up so they can feed the horses treats. - He likes fishing even if he isn’t the greatest at it. He’ll take his children fishing or would let them work on arts and crafts while he fishes. - While most kids walk home from school, Kieran always waits outside for his kiddos so he can walk with them. - He always wishes his children “sweet dreams” before going to bed. Every. Single. Night. He’s never missed a night EVER. - I think Kieran would take his children to visit Ireland. Maybe to see his father’s extended family. - Holidays are very special in the Duffy household. Even if Kieran and his kids have to hand-make decorations he’ll do it! Anything to make their childhood special. - He takes special walks with his kids. During the autumn he’ll make his children catch a falling leaf each before they can go home. He hopes it helps them feel the magic of childhood. - Kieran is terrified his children would be orphaned like he was. Because of this he works long hours when he can. He saves up a decent chunk of money and hides it. Only his children know where it’s at and understand it’s only for emergencies. ------ Micah - God forbid Micah ever has a daughter. There is a chance he would decide to raise her as a boy BUT I honestly think he’d either kill her, make her a dumpster baby, or would pawn the child off on someone else. In the even that the child is raised by someone else Micah would probably visit once every six months and probably stick around until that child is old enough to ‘work’ for him. - If he had a son tho…. Micah Bell the IV. - He’s a very cold father. Nothing his child does will ever be good enough for him. Because of that his child would probably try to win his favor until they’re old enough to realize they’ll never have it. - “One day this empire of mine will be yours.” and he owns NOTHING! - Micah definitely has shaken his baby. He probably spanks them or whips them with a belt whenever they’re bad. - His children grow up to take care of him and do things for him. They do all the chores. If Micah needs a beer one of them always has to go get it. - If one of his children ever becomes attached to an animal (cat, dog, horse) he would shoot that animal dead to teach them a lesson. And that lesson is to ‘not be soft’ and ‘attachments are useless’. - He doesn’t do anything to take care of them. Child rearing is a woman’s job. Micah makes the money. He comes home expecting a hot meal then he fucks off. His children are probably relieved that he’s gone so much. - Once his oldest is in their late teens Micah would gift them one of his guns. He doesn’t love anything more than those guns so it’s symbolic of how much he does care for his child. Micah can’t love normally, nor does he know how to show it. His oldest will understand the weight of the gesture and it may even make that child feel indebted to him. - He’s the very old fashioned type that thinks he automatically should have respect from his children. - If no one is willing to take care of his children, every night would be “fend for yourself night” in the Bell household. He’d never lift a finger to cook for or take care of them.

[straw-hat-rat]

The train heading to East Blue station blasted its whistle as it approached the small town of Logue. Some passengers disembarked as deliveries were sorted and a few people buying last minute tickets rushed to pay before the whistle signalling the train’s departure blew. 

In a saloon not far from the bustling station, some plans were quietly being made amongst a rough looking gang in a corner. Muttered sentences about a train robbery sifted through the din of conversations, clinking glass and scraping chair legs. The rest of the occupants diligently ignored them, minding their own business to avoid drawing trouble as they played poker. A woman stood up and knocked back her drink before picking up her mace, signalling that it was time for the gang to leave.

As they gathered their things and shuffled out of the saloon, a man who had been listening in on their plans bit the last piece of meat off of his roast and chewed in quiet contemplation. After finishing his food, he put his straw hat on and glanced at the trusted man sitting beside him. His colleague nodded and finished his drink before turning to the woman beside him. 

“Where’d you say you were goin’ again, um...Miss?” he asked her, completely forgetting her name.

“Oh, Vivi. I’m headed to East Blue. My family’s farm is there, and my fiance. We’re gonna get married in a few days,” she replied.

“Right. Well you better catch your train, it’ll be leavin’ soon.” 

The other man leaned over the bar and grinned at her. “Thanks a lot for all your help earlier! I thought we were gonna die!”

“It was the least I could do after you scared off those outlaws. I don’t know what I would have done. Thank you for escorting me to the station.” The young woman got up and waved as she left the saloon, rushing to make the train in time.

A frown replaced the wide grin after the woman was out of sight and he tipped his straw hat down a bit as he leaned against the bar.

“Seems there might be some trouble afoot with Iron Mace Alvida’s gang here. Reckon they’re talkin’ about the train in the station ‘bout to leave.” The other man removed his hat to wipe some sweat off his forehead. The desert sun was unrelenting.

“Must be. They’d still be drinkin’ in the saloon if they weren't plannin’ to move now.” 

“What about the others? Don’t forget we gotta meet up with ‘em.”

“They’ll be fine, this shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll get the horses.”

After adjusting his straw hat to block the sun properly, he watched the gang mount their horses and gallop out of town, disappearing into the dusty plains in the direction the train was due.

“Here.” 

“Thanks, Zoro. They headed out that way,” he said as he pointed with a tilt of his head. 

“We gonna stir up some trouble?” Zoro sighed as he settled his hand on one of his three revolvers, the favoured white one.

A grin grew wide under the straw hat. “I wouldn’t be The Straw Hat Kid if we didn’t.”

Zoro huffed a brief, low laugh, “Why not, I could use a warm up.”

The pair mounted their horses when the train blew its whistle and the conductor called out “All aboard!”

As the train slowly chugged out of the station, they took off in the direction of Alvida’s gang. They weren’t too far behind them and fairly quickly caught up to their dust cloud. 

The gang found a good spot to wait for their target and rest their horses while Alvida gave last orders to her gang. “And don’t ya dare mess up again ya good fer nothin’s!”

A disorganised smattering of “Yes ma'ams” followed her berating shout.

“Good. Now pay attention! Let’s make this quick. Here comes the train.”

Just within earshot of the gang’s chatter, The Straw Hat Kid and Zoro listened. “So what’s the plan boss? Try to cut ‘em off before they reach the train?”

“Yeah. Let’s stir up some trouble.” His grin grew wider. ao3 link

[theravenchild]

What started out as a simple headcanon post has evolved into a full on fic snippet that I hope you all will enjoy!

So, I was thinking about how the game gives us no background for the thestral mount, Sepulchria, and how Hellendil just adores her. I head canon that she is one of the thestrals pulling the carriage during the dragon attack at the beginning of the game. She managed to survive the attack, but not without injury. Because thestrals are so intelligent, she remembers her destination was Hogwarts and continues on, showing up there a few days afterward.

Professor Howin finds her wandering the grounds and in need of care. After assessing the wounds and recalling Professor Fig's recounting of the dragon attack a few days before, she consults with him regarding the lost thestral. She puts the creature up in the stables with the others while they send a letter to the carriage driver, alerting him of the thestral's whereabouts and condition.

Hellendil enters Fig's office as he's reading the reply.

"Pity. She's quite a gentle creature." "Who do you mean, Professor?" the curious fifth year asks. "Ah, good to see you Hellendil," Fig answers as he looks up from the letter in front of him. "To answer your question, one of the thestral's drawing our carriage that fateful day. She found her way to the castle in spite of her injuries. Professor Howin has been keeping her with the others while we contacted the driver. It appears he's not interested in keeping a lame creature and has asked us to end her suffering." The fifth year's eyes widen and his jaw drops open, "But why? Surely someone knows how to treat her injuries? Won't a healing spell or draught help?" Fig moves around the desk to place a comforting hand on the tall Ravenclaw's shoulder, "Horses and thestrals are notoriously difficult to heal of such injuries. I'm no expert on the matter, but it's often kinder in the end to do just as her owner suggests." He bows his head and closes his eyes, "Even if she does recover, it's unlikely that she'll ever be able to perform her duties again."

"We have to give her a chance, Professor!" comes the impassioned reply, his brows pressed together in worried, begging expression. "What did Professor Howin say? Do we know that she won't heal? What if I take care of her myself!?" The professor chuckles, a soft smile forming on his face, "I must say, I admire your spirit, young man. You've not been here more than a week and already you're willing to take on tasks well above your current training, not to mention how well you did during our adventure at Gringots. Why don't we talk to Professor Howin about your request together? She's better equipped to know what kind of challenge we face. If she believes it is worth the effort, then I shall see what I can do to get the thestral signed over to our care." "Thank you, professor," Hellendil answers, a look of relief in his kind blue eyes. "I am curious though, as to why you're so passionate about this. It could come at great cost to heal the creature with no guarantees of success." "I like thestrals quite a lot, sir. There's a comfort in being able to see them." His eyes are a bit distant as he responds, as if there's something more on his mind. He doesn't elaborate and Fig respects his privacy. After a moment, he looks back at Professor Fig, "I just think we ought to give her a chance, professor. She made her way to us after our ordeal, and I think she deserves that much. If she's unable to bear the weight of a carriage, it doesn't make her any less deserving of a chance at life." Fig smiles at the young brunet, "You've quite a bit of compassion for someone your age. I hope you'll continue to nurture that side of yourself. The world could always use more people who are willing to give of themselves for others. Come, let's take a stroll down to Professor Howin's office and have a chat." Hellendil nods, "Of course, professor. After you," he gestures for Fig to lead the way and falls in step behind him.

After speaking with Professor Howin they decide to continue to treat the thestral. Even if she is unable to recover completely, her good nature makes her an ideal candidate to be a teaching specimen. Howin agrees to teach and supervise Hellendil as they care for the injured beast. The Ravenclaw grows ever more attached to the creature, somehow finding time nearly every day to visit and tend to her at the stables. Eventually she becomes strong enough to carry a passenger again.

Recognizing the care the new fifth year had taken throughout the healing process and his closeness with the creature, Professor Howin releases her into his custody, with the caveat that if he is ever unable or unwilling to care for her anymore, he would return her to the school and she would live out her days as an animal ambassador for teaching Hogwarts students.

[walrus150915]

Have you guys seen my other post talking about how Ambrosius n Ballister would look when they're middle aged?

Yea okay nvm I drew them together as old men yaoi again bc it's very funny

Ambrosius, you old rascal!👀

I love depicting older queer people being in love and living a calm cozy life with their families bc idk man... It makes me hopeful for the future

Ft. their kid Aquila and their kid-family friend-aunt-uncle-grandparent Nimona being annoyed with them (and I mean- wouldn't you be?)

By the way this post is framed I guess you could tell where I'm going with this

Headcanon time for the Boldheart household when Nimona is 1030yo, Ambrosius and Ballister are in their late 40s and their kid is a tween

- Nimona is a free traveler. She's done so many round-the-world trips that Magellan may choke from jealousy while burning in hell

- No matter where she is tho, she always comes back to Ballister and always shares new things she's seen and new friends she's made - people and animals alike. YES SHE HAS A TON OF FRIENDS SHE ALWAYS WANTED BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT SHE DESERVES!!! MY BABY😭

- She always makes her comeback a surprise: jumps from the roof on Bal's head, flies dramatically, knocks on the door to pretend she's a deliveryman or a postman

- Ballister works as an engineer bc the raw SKILL this fella used to build an arm WHILE having one is unmatched. "If you're good at something, you gotta proceed to get a career in this field, otherwise you're just wasting your potential" © my Asian mom (jk don't do this. I'm no professional artist but I draw bc it's my hobby)

- He probably worked on the deconstruction of the wall. The symbolism would be great + it'd make sense for his character!

- My man is overworking because of course he does. Nimona tries her best to slap it out of him but this man is a workaholic and nothing can fix it I'm afraid

- I have no idea what Ambrosius's job is. Sry😭

- I know it must be something artsy and something which doesn't bring much money. Ambrosius is BLOOMING at work tho. He's doing something he likes! Not something his parents made him do! And he's enjoying it! Knowing he'll get back home to his kid and husband and Nimona and hug them all sweetly!!

- Aquila is mostly B-student who's described as "Your child studies well, Mr Boldheart, but they need to be more active and social in the class"

- Aquila doesn't have much friends outside of their family. Their parents and Nimona are worried about it more than they are

- Nimona made it her undertaking to make sure Aquila doesn't feel the way she used to in a situation like this

- When she's in the mood, Nimona takes Aquila to school by using her powers. It's pretty much the norm for Aquila to arrive to school on the horse or on the back of an eagle or on the rhino lol

If we've started with Goldenheart, I guess we could also continue with them? (a tiny bit of spice under the cut)

- They're still disgustingly in love. Like it's cringy how in love they are

- They try to keep the sparkle alive no matter how repetitive their routine gets

- Slow dancing (which is actually just cuddling and rocking side to side together) in the kitchen? Kissing each other before and after work? Having romantic dinners from time to time? Yea that's their kinda stuff

- That sparkle also includes trying out new things in bed. They don't have as much energy as they used to tho😭 Instead of going two or even three rounds like they used to they'd rather just sleep WJJSSJJAJJWEJSJS

- [seahorse dad Bal since trans!Ballister headcanon is one of my favorites] Ambrosius's worshipping of Ballister's body increased 100x after Aquila was born bc THIS FELLOW MAN whom he loves VERY MUCH beared THEIR CHILD in his body for 9 months, how's that not amazing? A thing this man has for competence of his husband is insaneeeee

- I feel like their love life has only got better as the time went on

- As all parents do, these two learnt how to do everything very quietly

- Nimona could finally sleep calmly thank the creator they had a kid who made them learn

Okay I'm done with spice. Let's talk sweet (aka random ig)

- Bal cracks his joints a lot (grandpa LLLLL)

- Aquila DOES NOT have it good on Father's day

- Nimona teases Ballister for getting older (as a joke) but she's kinda worried about him, since he does get grey hair, wrinkles n stuff and. Uh. She doesn't. So-

I'M SORRY IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE ANGSTY

- Aquila is trilingual so real of them

- Yea the Boldheart household is multilingual. One could say something in English and the other would answer in Urdu no problem

I think that's about it. I blogged this earlier than planned bc I pressed the wrong button but I hope you enjoy this whiplash of my brainrot nevertheless

Heading to school rn. See ya when I come up with new things to talk abt wfvbhhnj!!!

[notasapleasure]

Sunday six

I am writing Saga AU part 2, I am I am I am! Lots of background and set-up to get through, but I think that's ok, part 1 started slowly too :')

And there's still plenty of opportunities for awkward idiots to totally misunderstand each other. As an example of the kind of thing I mean, I give you a time when I was in an Icelandic class with a friend, and the teacher told us that in the '90s the chat-up lines were no better than 'já eða nei?' (yes or no?) and my friend leaned over and whispered something, and, being deaf,* and not really catching his accent, I made him repeat it like five times until I realised he was saying 'já eða nei'. I snorted at his joke, carried on taking grammar notes, and only several years later went '.....WAIT a second. He was making a pass??' So I know first hand about such idiocy.

*Not like. Diagnosed actually deaf. But sometimes I really just don't catch words

What better time to have an awkward conversation about your friend's unacceptable behaviour than at a horse fight?

Cassian studied me. He couldn't hold my eyes for long, though, and turned back to the horses with a sigh, drawing his arms tighter about him. He said nothing for a while so I faced the match again too, and grimaced at the matted, bloody coats of the horses, their white rolling eyes and the blood-pink froth around their foaming mouths. Finally a winner was declared and Cassian grunted in disapproval - he must have bet on the loser. He didn't face me, and spat at the ground, but the words he muttered brought a confused warmth to my cheeks nonetheless: "Think this place could do with a few more like you, actually." It was spoken so quietly, so reluctantly, that I didn't fully parse it until we'd walked over to Cavo's cart to join the crowds gathering for refreshments.

[skiirtip]

thank you very much one person who likes my random post LMAOO

another drabble, sun-focused, introducing some new lore/plot

tw sun is violent, and he's accidentally in a cult, and hes very much manipulated

not beta read i. no no wanna

cut just in case

~~~

“What are you doing?”

The voice makes you jump in surprise. You slam the drawer closed and shoot up as you straighten your back, eyes widening. You’d been caught red-handed. Sun stands in the doorway, his blue eyes narrowed and his smile thin. His upper lip twitches and it’s silent for a long moment. The heavy robes colored like sunsets drape over his shoulders and down, and when his arm moves you see the fabric sway, nearly dragging along the ground. You don’t get a chance to explain yourself before Sun steps farther into the room, polished black shoes tapping on the stone floor, and the door clicks shut behind him.

“Snooping is very against the rules, friend.” He says, his chipper voice grating on your senses. One of his hands isn’t visible as it rests behind his back. You keep the desk between you as he steps closer. “May I ask what exactly you were looking for? It must be very important if you were willing to risk your future for it.” He hisses, the venom in his voice not trying to be concealed.

Sun opens the notebook with a soft twhip of the paper, deft fingers licked as he turns the page several times. Your eyes narrow into a glare as he shifts his weight to one foot, the glint of the silver dagger strapped to his side a reminder that you are not expendable. Moon needs you for this mission- and he doesn’t know it yet, but Sun needs you too.

“A book,” You say, partially a lie, and a shitty one at that, and you think you momentarily see Sun’s eyebrow twitch up in annoyance. Shit. “I thought maybe you had it.”

“A book?” He echoes, incredulous. His face lights up, disarming you momentarily, and as he attempts to round the desk to get closer to you again, you barely skirt past him. His robes brush you and he hums, a displeased glance in your direction as his hand shoots down to unlock a drawer with his moon-shaped necklace. Your heart sinks as he pulls out exactly what you were looking for. “This, I assume? How strange! What would someone Like you need with the receipts of the month?”

“We ordered from overseas, bought and sold a few horses, visited the masonry… ah, here it is,” He says, tapping the page and dragging one of his pale yellow fingers down the page. You can hear the paper rip along the perforated edge. A cheap book they used to hide records from the transcript.

A cheap book to use as a bible.

“An order for war equipment. Canons, bows, firearms… And of course, a special set of armor, just for you. The king really likes you, doesn’t he? You’re his new favorite,” Sun says it with an almost disgusted tone. To be honest, you’re disgusted at the thought of the king attempting to spoil you as well. You feel ice in your belly as his cold blue eyes meet yours. Usually, the freckles that dot across his cheeks and temples but spare his nose are cute- today, they remind you of eyes. He feigns a saddened sigh, looking back at the paper, and easily rips it and folds it in a smooth motion, handing it to you as if he were a teacher disappointed with your grade. You know better than to reach out and take it when you see his fingers twitch with their iron grip.

“He’s lying to you,” You spit, and you watch Sun’s rays twitch for just a moment in surprise. He grits his teeth. “He’s tricking you. He’s poisoning the kingdom. Haven’t you noticed? New rules, increased guard, separated families- this is getting out of hand.”

“He’d be very disappointed to find out you were helping the rebellion,” Sun says, tutting and shaking his head. He draws the paper back and crumples it. You know there was more on that paper than what he oh-so-graciously told you, and you hate that you’ll never know as he tosses it into the fireplace. “But he’d be very much pleased with me if I turned you in-“

“Eclipse wants what is best for us,” He says, roughly. His hand shakes with the restraint to not snap your wrist right off. “He is keeping us safe. Under control.”

Sun frowns deeply, and this time you don’t get a chance to move before he is dragging you closer to the table by the wrist. You feel your wrist pop and hiss as it’s twisted, forcing you against the desk. It is forced backward by the rough movement and Sun lifts his knee to the surface to avoid losing any balance. You are reminded of the glow in his eyes as he stares at you, his lips pulled taut into a saccharine smile.

“You’re blind,” You spit, and Sun’s rays shrink at the venom in your voice, eyes narrowing. You don’t usually stand up to him. “You’re either to far gone, or you’re trying to keep your ignorance for the sake of his approval. But I know you’ve seen it. When’s the last time you’ve seen Cassie? Did you even notice she was gone? Or did you just blame it on ‘the rebellion’ and move on.”

You can’t move that wrist out of his grip, but you can move your other arm. Your moves and he attempts to stop you from grabbing for his dagger- but you don’t even reach for it, clasping your hand around the moon pendant that dangles from his neck and seizing it, ripping it off. Round beads, gray and blue, clatter to the ground and shatter. Sun’s eyes widen and for just a moment, he looks genuinely distressed. You wrench your hand out of his loosened grip and snap the crescent in half between your palms. Sun lets out a strangled sound, still half across the table, eyes flashing completely white.

For only a moment, things are silent and peaceful. And then Sun is launching himself over the desk to snatch the broken halves from you, shoving you away without a second thought and anxiously smoothing his thumb over the broken pieces, glancing around for glue or tape or something- anything- that will hold the memories of his brother back.

“Sun,” Your voice lowers as he holds the pieces broken edged together, spinning around the room, searching and searching. It’s sad to watch. You raise your voice when you say his name again, watching as he knocks a lamp off of the desk and the room is devoid of light except for the orange glow of the fireplace. The yellow edges of his faceplate are visible as his head snaps to you, eyes pale in the darkness. You can only barely see where his body peeks out of the robe- head, neck, wrists, and hands. The rest of him is blacked out.

“No,” He hisses, roughly. He separates the blue pieces of the crescent in his hand and taps them back together several insistent times, his movements frantic. “No, no, no, no, no. He wouldn’t lie. Not to me. Moon is dead. He tried to kill me, and Eclipse-“ He looks back up at you. His eyes are black with small white rings in them. “Eclipse is protecting me. Protecting me from people like you.”

“What’s going on?” He whispers, conspiratorially. His voice is shaking. You can hear the tick, tick, tick of his rays as they shrink in and out of his head. “Eclipse said that when the necklace broke-“

“That all the memories of Moon hurting you would come back?” You ask. You almost feel sorry for him. You take a step back towards the door. The sound of his rays stop. “I just told you, he’s lying to you. Those bad memories of him aren’t real. He used Cassie to put the dreams of him in your head, and then banished her so she couldn’t tell you. Sun, you have to calm down-“

He shouts as he lunges. The door flies open and knocks you forward, into his chest, and there’s the sound of a dagger clattering away and a sword being drawn. You feel the soft fur on your ankles before you can push yourself up and away.

“Got it.” You turn automatically to dash away, only glancing back once just in time to see Moon scoop a few of the unbroken necklace beads from the floor and put them in his pocket with the broken pendant. You look forward again and run straight for the throne room as Moon throws the end of the rug into the fireplace.

The silver edge of a sword captures Sun’s head and tilts it up. Sun’s face is deadpan. You can hear his internal systems shutting down. Moon’s cloak falls and he kneels, pushing you off of Sun, gently scooping the unconscious advisor into his arms. He stares at the crumpled heap in his arms for a moment before looking back up at you.

“Go. Go make a distraction. I’ll take him back to base through the left garden.”

You throw the doors open and the court stops as the force of the giant mahogany doors caused an armor stand to fall over. You point back just in time to see the room go up in flames.

“Fire!”

~~~~

ends like that because i plan to have fire maybe be a chapter name thats misleading, like the others are all war themed and then suddenly its like "they're (rebellion) getting somewhere and aren't being crushed by Eclipse..."

[immajustvibehere]

Cruel World

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

summary: A drabble in which Arthur overhears a fisher singing "Cruel World" and realises something.

630 words, 5 minutes reading time

Arthur was woken by whistling that suddenly accompanied the rushing of the stream nearby. With tired eyes he searched for the stranger whistling this tune but couldn't find him. Instead. his eyes fell on his horse grazing nearby. Arthur remembered. In the stifling summer afternoon heat he had dismounted, not too far away from Beaver’s Hollow, to rest. He had taken a short trip, just to get away from camp because it was so...depressing. But now, after only a couple of hours of slumber, he had woken by the sound of this melody.

With a grunt, he rose. He walked closer to the stream until he could see the stranger. A fisher, gripping the rod with two slender hands and wearing an overall so dirty one couldn’t tell the original colour. But his left feet stomped in a certain beat. The whistling suddenly stopped, and the man started to sing without a care in the world. He probably didn't know that there was someone close, listening and watching him.

"Desert road, desert plain

I have seen so much pain

Now I see into the eyes of a girl

No more, no more, cruel world"

His otherwise loud voice changed into a whisper when he mumbled a couple of words, as if he had forgotten the lyrics. Seconds later, he sang more confident enough:

"..., I felt trust

I knew then that I must

Go to her, away from this cruel world."

Then he sang the chorus and repeated it so often, that Arthur doubted this was how the song could originally go, but he listened, nevertheless. The man seemed to have the song stuck in his head, because when he interrupted his singing to draw in a fish, he began all over again. Arthur must have stood there for fifteen minutes before he decided it was time to go back. Now it was he who couldn't get the song out of his head. It had struck a nerve, so to say. His last couple of weeks had already been tumultuous and he really had thought he had figured out what he wanted to do. He knew he didn't have much time left and the more people he could get out of this mess Dutch had created, the better. But all this time, he hadn't made his mind up about you.

You were the first person he saw when he hitched his horse at the hitching post in camp. Not that he even wanted to look for anyone else. You sat on a stool behind his tent, mending some socks. You were probably the only one who still cared about contributing something, Arthur thought.

"Y/n", Arthur called out, approaching you. Like always, you looked up and your face brightened up. It had been like that for a long time now. Whenever he needed comfort, you had been there for him and despite the bad man that he was, he was aware that you had a soft spot for him. After he found out about his sickness, he had pushed you further away, out of fear his death might hurt you more than you could take. But you kept coming back. You were eager to show him that he deserved better and that he was worth the struggle and in a way, Arthur appreciated the persistence.

You stood up and put down the sock. Before you could say so much as hello, he had extended his arms to grab your shoulder. For a seconds he looked at you, searching if the eyes of a girl would be enough to make him forget his cruel world. His sad expression unsettled you, but suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into the first and last hug you had ever gotten from him.

[positivelybeastly]

Tell me why Simon’s upcoming marvel verse tpb (releasing between xforce 49 and 50) decided to highlight that issue (the one where Hank kisses Simon) out of all the possible issues that actually like. Are meaningful for him as a character and his supporting cast not just the one where he gets gay kissed by a guy who proceedes to dress up in his clothes, his girlfriend wonders if she would be better off getting back with his brother, and the guy who kissed him calls him a chickenplucker before he dips. Like it’s not really an important Simon issue, probably not even the best Hank/simon friendship issue but it kind of feels like they’re saying getting gay kissed by Hank is at least the fourth most important thing ever to happen to Simon, possibly more so than the whole evil and robot brothers thing

I do not understand I feel like the goof kiss is something that can very easily be interpreted as homophobic since essentially it’s saying “what if two men kissed would that be wacky or what”. Why would you bring that up again. Unless…? (Bi Hank real?)

"C'maaaaaan, you aren't still dwelling on that ol' gag, are you? It was for fun! You don't think Bugs Bunny has feelings for other fellas, do you? Just a little harmless horsing around, between two old buddies who hadn't seen each other in a while, on account of one of them being dead! We all get a little excited when that happens, don't we?

. . . Okay, so maybe that doesn't happen to you guys so often, but when it happens here, that's a - very common reaction. Nothing gay about it. And it's not like there's anything wrong with being gay, or bi, or any of that, either! I'm just not. Capiche?"

So, this is one of those things where it's like - I'm 99% certain this is just a weird coincidence, or that this was picked by a staffer with a sense of humour, or something, BUT.

There's the 1%.

There's the one 1% that has to check, and, hey, what happens if you Google Wonder Man Beast?

NOW.

I WILLL ADMIT THAT PERHAPS THERE IS SOME SEARCH ENGINE SKEWING GOING ON.

BUT.

THAT IS FAN ART OF GAY HANK AND SIMON ON ROW ONE, PEOPLE.

The cover for the issue with the kiss is row two!

The kiss itself is row three!

Like, full disclosure, I have absolutely Googled 'Wonder Man Beast kiss before', to get the panel to talk about my thoughts on Hank's sexuality before, so maybe there's some stuff going on, but, friends, Google 'Wonder Man Beast' and tell me what YOU see, because I am curious.

But for real, let's talk about this TPB.

Read this product description.

"Learn more about Wonder Man, the energy-powered Avenger who doubles as a movie star, before and after the release of the Disney+ series!

Few heroes in the Marvel-Verse are more wondrous than Wonder Man and none is a bigger draw at the box office! Get to know Simon Williams, the world’s greatest Avenger-turned-movie star, beginning with his momentous debut - in which he is gifted amazing power, but must defeat Earth’s Mightiest Heroes in exchange! Will he go bad, or make a heroic sacrifice? Don’t count Wonder Man out just yet!

Soon he’s back, breaking into Hollywood and tussling with heavyweights like the Sandman and the Abomination! But who needs enemies when you can have a best friend like Hank McCoy, the bouncing, blue-furred Beast? Prepare to discover why Simon and Hank are the greatest double act in Avengers history!"

I should remind you, this is not the Beast and Wonder Man book, that is a SEPARATE collection. A separate collection with art that has been HALVED to make THIS collection's cover, I know that Nick Bradshaw art anywhere.

But let's also talk about the issue selection!

"Avengers (1963) #9" - makes sense! His very first appearance, his villain turn, his death. You HAVE to include the origin issue, it's the law. 5/5, perfect choice if you want to know what Simon is.

"Wonder Man (1986) #1" - first issue of his first solo series! Absolutely makes sense, fun little one-off thing that shows how Simon is adjusting after his hero turn, shows off his personality, self-contained, beautiful. 5/5, excellent choice.

"West Coast Avengers (1985) #25" - fun little story showing off his movie career and his up and down relationship with fame! And it doesn't rely too much on other continuity, you can just pick it up and go and have fun, even if the other Avengers parts might confuse you a bit. 4/5, good choice, a bit of a deep cut.

"Avengers (1998) #14" - awright, let's pull this one up and have a look. What is this issue actually about?

Our cover.

Hmm. Well, they seem like good friends!

Aw, cute! I love when comics break the fourth wall like this, I wonder what they have in store for us.

Oh! A . . . two page spread of, Hank . . . shouting, "Hi honey, I'm home!"

Looking a little demented, there, Hank, you okay?

. . . Hank? You . . . okay there?

. . . Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

You - got him flowers, Hank?

H-Hank, you're . . . wearing, Simon's, old . . . safari jacket . . ?

So, there IS some Simon only stuff in here, which is good, and catches you up on some of the events of his other solo series, which is good! This is good Simon content! Okay, cool!

O-Oh.

Chickenplucker?

FUCKING WHAT.

Okay, we need to check another website, there's NO WAY.

THAT is the issue you chose?

THAT ONE?

Not A+X #12?

No, wait, shit, we're trying to beat the allegations.

Um. Um. What about, what about that one Avengers Annual?

SHIT, ABORT, ABORT.

Uncanny Avengers #28! That's good, wholesome fun, right?

FUCK. FUCK, FUCK ME, GODDAMN IT.

What about - what about Wonder Man vol. 2 #6? That's safe, right?

And at this point, the poor Marvel staffer gave up and said, FUCK IT, THE GAY KISS IS LESS GAY THAN THE REST OF THIS SHIT.

Like, come the fuck on, now.

But no, that's the reason why that issue is in there.

Because it's somehow less gay than every other interaction they've had.

I have no idea if it's intentional, but how has every single writer since 1981 managed to write these two like tender hearted lovers? Why does Simon at his most asshole in Wonder Man vol. 2 act like Hank is his personal damsel in distress and smile more at him than he does his girlfriends? It's not impossible to write male friendships in a non-gay way, it really isn't, and yet.

You keep.

Managing.

To make it like this.

Hank McCoy is bisexual and in love with Simon Williams. Whether he, or the writers, have realised it, THAT is the story they have managed to tell. Maybe one day they'll catch up.

Maybe one day soon, if they're smart.

[creativeafterdark]

Chapter 8

So unfortunately this week I have no sketches for the chapter due to slight burn out and work related reasons (also I had completely forgotten we get introduced to the pilgrims minus Sanzang in this chapter and their designs are anything but ready). As a result, I'm just going to write my thoughts.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

First things first: Guanyin. I love Guanyin. They're just so calm about being attacked by two monsters and letting Hui'an handle combat. It also shows the sheer difference in strength between the four disciples, after seeing the trouble that he went through fighting Sun Wukong. Guanyin is a true being of mercy, not really making a big fuss out of being attacked and I commend them for it, I would be chewing Zhu and Sha's heads off. Though the "Perhaps in Two or Three Years" answer they gave the great Immortal, I'll need to pay attention to how much time passes to see if that's accurate (but I recall the full journey takes 14 years? Correct me if I'm wrong).

Next up: Sha Wujing. So after I'd previously read the Abridged Version, I was utterly confused as to why the Jade Emperor was petty enough to punish this poor man for BREAKING A CUP. Then I found a comic by antidotefortheawkward that explained how breaking a cup could be seen as a signal to attack. And I was like "...ah. That makes more sense now." Still a little petty, not hearing him out, but it made sense that it would be his first thought. Especially if he was cast out AFTER Sun Wukong's Havoc. I don't think we got a clear answer on that timeline (again feel free to correct me!). Even if he did eat people, I still love this pilgrim and can't wait for his chapter.

Next: Zhu Wuneng, aka Zhu Bajie. Quick to lower his weapon for a woman, lol. Jokes aside, it seems as though he's very unlucky with women (and vice versa). There is his flirting with the Moon Goddess (which is still unclear if it was consensual or unwelcomed, that would change my opinion of how this all went down), him killing his new form's mother and siblings (I've heard people say human flesh tastes like pork, so I guess that's where he got the taste for it, huh?), and the death of Second Elder Sister Egg (and him getting all her stuff). Unlike Sha Wujing, it does feel like Zhu Wuneng was begging a lot more for mercy. But Guanyin chose to believe his intent as being genuine, so he will be the next disciple.

Next: OUR DRAGON BOY. I'm gonna call him Bai Longma, as that's the name most know him by. I feel out of all of these, his punishment was the most unfair, and the fact that his father went to the Jade Emperor and seemed to be just fine with a DEATH SENTENCE honestly kills me. Like, I feel as though everyone was so on edge after Sun Wukong that punishments just amped up. I am glad Guanyin immediately jumped to his defense, and as a result got Sanzang a much better mount than any old horse.

And finally: Sun Wukong. Our old monkey. And the start of my favorite relationship in the story (the friendship between Guanyin and Wukong). Sun Wukong is still very bitter of Tathagata's trick but appears willing to do what he must to get free, though knowing what I do, I'm already thinking "Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say, Great Sage" in a sarcastic tone. But that's for another chapter.

And with that, Guanyin continues their own journey to Chang'an to find our Tang Sanzang.

All in all, a very short but important chapter, setting the stage for journey and meeting the key players.

I probably will be doing more writing than drawing for the next few chapters (minus the intro to Sanzang), to both get off this burn out and because I don't recall any characters that show up more in the story aside from these chapters, so I don't see a point in making a design for them.

[guilty-pleasures21]

The end of this town

@queen-shiba as promised!

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: descriptions of sex including blowjob (f recieving), penetration (p in v) and slight somnophilia (consensual of course!)

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

“If you'd like us to take care of the horses as well, that'll be another five gold pieces, sire,” the slippery man sitting behind the counter informed Dara. ‘Slippery’ not just in the metaphorical sense - with that cunning grin he kept giving Dara - but the man had so much oil in his hair and beard, the Afshin truly believed he'd slip right out of his hands if he tried to grab him.

“Fine,” Dara replied, forking out the money begrudgingly. “But for that price, they'd better be getting honey-coated apples for breakfast!”

“Oh, rest assured, young master, Hassan is the best horse groomer this side of the country,” the man declared, grabbing at Dara's coins with glee.

“Well, there's not much competition if you're the only horse groomer this side of the country, is there?” Dara muttered under his breath. The man ignored his quip, that slippery smile still stretched across his face as he handed Dara the keys to the two rooms he'd booked - of course he wasn't going to let that Qahtani brat anywhere near his precious X while she was asleep. He turned around to head back to the tavern area, then realised that his surroundings had gone deathly silent. Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted, causing Dara's heart to start pounding in his chest in fear. Was X all right? Had she gotten hurt? Was she feeling threatened? That last one was especially bad, because then she might feel inclined to use her powers, and then she'd drain herself again. He dashed over to the drinking area and rushed over to X when he saw her swaying on her feet as Ali held her up.

“X?” Dara asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and cupping her cheek in his hand. She looked even more exhausted than when they'd gotten here - she definitely must have used her powers. “Are you all right, janam (my life)?”

X nodded sleepily, her eyelids fluttering shut as she fell against Dara's chest. “Mmm. Just tired. Wanna sleep.”

“All right, let's get you to bed,” Dara agreed, his fingers brushing through her hair soothingly. Then he raised his head to glare at Ali. “What did you do now?!”

“Me?!” Ali scoffed, keeping his voice at the same low pitch as Dara - they really didn't need any more attention on them than they already had. ��I was trying to stop her from thrashing those men and drawing attention to us!” Dara's eyes flashed at Ali's revelation, but before he could continue reprimanding the younger djinn, X tugged on his shirt and let out a little whine.

“Yes, yes, I'll bring you to bed, janam,” Dara reassured X, turning around to start leading her up to their room. He stopped momentarily to toss Ali's keys to him, but didn't spare him a second glance as he continued walking with X.

“What happened, jaaneman (my soul)?” Dara asked her as he helped her to their door. X groaned in response, then let out a contented hum when he lifted her into his powerful arms and carried her over to the bed.

“They had no manners,” she mumbled sleepily as Dara helped her get her boots off. “They kept calling me rude names. But everyone hated them anyway.” Someone had dared try to insult his precious Banu Nahida?! He'd make them pay - he'd hunt them down and-

“I took care of it, Dara.” X tugged on his arm, sensing his anger as the heat began to build up around them. She wriggled aside to make some space for him beside her. “Come to bed.” She liked being cuddled up against him; his hard muscles pressing against her as he murmured sweet nothings into her hair, his calloused palms wandering all over her bare skin as he admired her soft curves. And he was always so warm, even when she was shivering with cold, her body unable to regulate itself after she'd spent too much magic.

Dara sighed, then settled himself at the end of the bed so he could start massaging her legs. Aside from her having fought an entire village that morning - and then God knew how much of the tavern just now - they'd also been walking the entire day, so she must have been thoroughly exhausted right then. Dara leaned forward, letting his hands climb higher and higher up her legs.

“Mmph!” X let out a little squeak as her legs twitched in response to the way he circled his thumbs around the insides of her thighs. She was so cute like this, her eyes remaining closed even as her features scrunched with arousal. Dara grinned at the sight, then curled his fingers around the waistband of her trousers.

“Janam,” he began softly, the low pitch of his voice barely concealing his excitement. “Can I … Is it okay if I …”

“Touch me?” X supplied unabashedly, a small giggle escaping her lips as she said it. “Please.” He was always so nervous when he asked her for it - so embarrassed by his needs and his desire for her, even when they'd already made love so many times before. But only until he'd gotten all her clothes off, then he'd forget all about his nerves, his thoughts consumed entirely by her naked body, all ready and waiting for him to admire.

“I'll be gentle,” Dara promised her, tugging her trousers off before discarding them on the ground. He pulled his own clothes off, then lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist so he could lean over her to start taking her top off.

“That’s what you always say,” X teased him, her voice heavy with sleep. But he was gentle, soft and sweet like every touch was a blessing he’d been granted. She still remembered their first time, after she'd confessed her feelings to him and he'd responded hopelessly.

“And I will never be able to let another man touch me, Darayavahoush,” she'd replied, her stomach curdling at the very thought. Dara had sucked in a breath, his muscles tensing as he'd imagined running his hands across her bare skin. But then he'd taken a step away from her.

“I … I might never be able to give you children, X,” he'd admitted, voice weighed down with fear. She'd smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand, her fingers brushing along the rough stubble lining his jaw.

“But you need to continue the Nahid bloodline,” he'd told her, his voice losing its resolve as his eyes continued to rove over her body hungrily. X had taken a step forward, quickly closing the distance he'd tried to put between them.

“I'm not going to let anyone else touch me, Dara,” she'd replied stubbornly, “even if you won't. I don't ever want anyone else to have me but you.” She'd let her eyes trail over his hollow cheeks then, his angled jaw, his wide lips. Then she'd brushed her thumb across his bottom lip, her mouth watering at how soft it felt against her skin. His eyes had darkened as she'd brought her mouth closer to his, his pupils growing with lust even as he'd stayed frozen in position, waiting.

“You're my Afshin, Darayavahoush,” she'd whispered, her warm breath grazing his lips teasingly. “And I am your Banu Nahida. Aren't you supposed to look after me? To cherish me and make sure I am well taken care of?”

He'd clenched his fists, his entire body heating up with desire as she'd smiled against his lips. She'd slid her fingers into his hair then, twisting the wavy strands between her fingers, and he'd parted his lips with a gasp, allowing her to slide her tongue between them and into his mouth. By God, she'd tasted sweet - sweeter than any of the desserts he and his sister would try to steal from their mother's kitchen when she wasn't looking. He'd kept his eyes open as she'd kissed him, his hands remaining frozen by his sides so he'd refrain from touching her. But he hadn't been able to stop his mouth from moving against hers, from winding his tongue around hers and licking up the sweet taste of her. Then finally, she'd pulled back and he'd found himself able to think again.

“I need you, my Afshin,” X had told him, undoing her robes and slipping them off her shoulders. “Aren't you going to take care of your Banu Nahida, Dara?”

“X,” he'd breathed, his voice hoarse with desire. She'd giggled at his tone, then taken a step back, that playful grin still stretched across her rosy lips as she'd looked up at him.

She'd let her robes pool on the ground by her feet, exposing her luscious curves to him: her delicious breasts, her hollowed waist, her rounded cheeks. Then she'd taken his hands and lifted them to her chest, letting him brush his calloused palms across her nipples. She'd shivered as he'd touched her, and he'd growled her name in response, his self-restraint hanging on by a thread at that point.

“You're so soft, jaaneman,” he'd murmured before dropping his hands down to her waist. She'd grinned at that, then dragged her finger down his throat to the collar of his tunic.

“Why don't you take this off and find out how much of me is really soft to the touch?” X had challenged him, stretching onto her toes to nip his earlobe. His jaw had tightened at her words, his breathing getting more laboured as his body begged him to give in. Then, as if he'd been in a trance, he'd pulled his clothes off, his eyes never leaving her naked form as she'd walked over to the bed.

X had lain down on her side, her silky curls tumbling over her shoulder as she'd propped herself up on her elbow. Dara had felt his heart begin to flutter as she'd let her eyes trail over him, her lips twisting with delight as she'd licked them hungrily. Then she'd curled her finger, beckoning him to her before sitting up again.

“Come here, janam,” she'd commanded him, flashing him a naughty smile as she'd pat the space in front of her. “Your Banu Nahida needs her Afshin, Darayavahoush.”

And for the rest of the night, he'd found himself incapable of doing anything besides worshipping his Banu Nahida, in exactly the way he'd been made to do.

Dara lowered himself to the bed and began pressing soft kisses to the insides of her thighs, his lips quickly making their way up to her centre. Then he pressed them to her folds and grinned as she sucked in a breath before he pulled her into his mouth. He licked and sucked on her gently, his tongue sweeping up her length to circle her nub of sensitive nerves before dragging back down to tickle her entrance. She shivered at the feeling of his mouth closed around her most intimate parts and he let out a chuckle when he felt her c*m beginning to leak into his mouth. He groaned against her in satisfaction and she shuddered again as the low rumble of his voice danced along her bones. She’d keep drifting in and out of sleep as he teased her, her brain shutting down momentarily whenever another wave of arousal hit her. He liked to take his time tasting her, the movements of his tongue always slow and appreciative as he swirled it around her vagina. X let out a whine as her body writhed helplessly, her arousal growing at the feeling of Dara’s tongue sweeping around her insides and lapping her up thirstily. Finally, he increased the pace of his movements, his tongue flicking against her walls hard and fast until her back arched off the bed and she came for him.

X frowned when she was done and gingerly hit Dara on the chest as he climbed up over her. She always looked so cute when she was annoyed with him, her lips twisting into that little pout beneath her scrunched up nose. Dara chuckled at her irritation, then bent over to begin kissing and nibbling on her neck. X sighed at the feeling of his broad chest pressing down on her and she slung her arms around his neck lazily. She scratched his back lightly, delighting in the feeling of his sinewy muscles beneath her palms, then he nipped her earlobe and she bucked her hips against his before flopping back onto the bed. X turned her head to the side and relaxed into the mattress, spreading herself out and letting Dara do whatever he wanted with her body.

“So beautiful, janam,” he murmured, brushing his lips and fingers down her torso. He squeezed her breast in his hand, then moaned against her collarbone before grazing it with his teeth. “So perfect and so delicious.” He moved his mouth lower to press soft kisses to her nipple and X bit her lip as her body stretched itself out again in response to his stimulation.

“You have such beautiful breasts, jaaneman,” Dara praised her before closing his mouth around her soft flesh to suck on it. A whimper escaped X's throat as she felt her arousal begin to seep onto her thighs again, then she giggled.

“I'm glad you like them, jaane delam: they were made for you, after all,” X joked, sliding her fingers into his hair. She let out a low moan as he circled the nipple that was in his mouth and flicked his fingers across the other. He gave her breast one last suckle, then pulled away, releasing her with a wet ‘pop’.

“You were not made for me, atashe delam (flame of my heart),” Dara informed her, his lips stretching wide as he took in her beautiful form beneath him, “but I was made for you. It doesn’t matter what you look like, I would have found you the most beautiful woman in the entire world.”

He took hold of himself then, and rubbed his length along her folds, coating his tip in her sticky juices so he could slide himself into her. X clutched onto the bedsheets and wriggled around, shifting in position to better accommodate his rapidly hardening bulk. Then she relaxed again when he'd buried himself firmly inside of her.

“And I would have loved you even if you didn't look so handsome while brooding,” X mumbled, yawning as her body contorted with delight at the feeling of him filling her up entirely. She reached a hand up to slide it along his chest, admiring the hard planes of his body, then she tugged on his shoulder, whining for him to move closer to her.

Dara chuckled at her impatience, but lowered himself on top of her and slid his tongue into her mouth when his lips landed on hers. X ran her hands all over his neck and shoulders and back as she kissed him, the movements of her fingers lazy and appreciative. Her body contracted around him, her walls squeezing his centre and begging him for more, and she whimpered at the feeling. Dara grinned and rolled his hips against hers, his hard length brushing against every inch of her walls as he stretched her out. He started slow, his thrusts deep and rhythmic as he moved himself in and out of her, then he picked up his pace and the bed began to creak beneath the force of his movements.

“Mmm … Not so loud, janam!” X warned him, curling herself around his deliciously muscled form. “Ali might hear. And then he'd never let me marry his brother and take over the kingdom.” She grinned as she said it, letting him know that she was only joking: as if she'd ever marry that useless fool - not when her heart had been so completely captured by her rough and overprotective warrior.

“Then maybe I should be louder, jaaneman,” Dara retorted, matching her tone. “I don't want you marrying that good for nothing womaniser either.” But in truth, he liked how quiet it always was between them: his low groans, her soft giggles, the tender praises that would fall from both of their lips. It was like nothing else existed in that moment but the two of them, the entire world falling away save for the luscious form of his precious little Banu Nahida beneath him.

Dara slowed down again, his thrusts careful and deliberate, his tip prodding against that one spot that always had her writhing with desperation. But it wouldn't be enough, he knew; she wouldn't be able to come unless he was hitting her hard and fast, until he was filling her up with such pleasure that her body wouldn't be able to contain it anymore. So he increased his pace again, not caring who heard them this time. X whined in protest, but then began moaning softly as her brain went numb at the feeling of him brushing up against all her most sensitive parts. Finally, her hips bucked up against his and she dug her fingers into his back as she came for him.

Dara slid his hand under her waist and held her up against him as she shuddered with pleasure, and then he was coming too, his warm seed spilling into her and filling her up entirely, making her as his. X let out a little whimper at the feeling and Dara growled as she wrapped her arms tighter around him. He lay her back down when he was done, then got up to find a towel to clean her up.

She huffed in irritation when he pulled himself out of her, her body already starting to shiver as his warmth left her. But he shushed her gently and brushed her hair away from her face as he reassured her that he'd be back soon. It wasn't long before he was settled back between her legs and wiping her down with a damp towel. X sighed at the feeling of the warm cloth against her skin, then quickly wrapped herself around Dara when he slid into the bed next to her. He laughed at the speed with which she'd attached herself to him, then readjusted their positions so she was resting more comfortably in his arms.

“I love you, janam,” X murmured, her words slurred with sleep. Dara smiled and cuddled her closer to his chest.

“I love you too, jaane delam.”

Ali tossed his keys onto the table in front of the innkeeper, his bloodshot eyes heavy with tiredness.

“Do you have any other rooms available?” he asked, taking care to keep his features covered. The innkeeper narrowed his eyes at him, studying him cautiously.

“What's wrong with your current room?” he asked him suspiciously. Ali hesitated, searching for the appropriate words.

“The walls … are a little too thin,” he replied finally, “and my neighbours are a little too loud.” The man grinned, immediately understanding his predicament. He took the keys from Ali and handed him a different set.

“I'm afraid we haven't been able to fix that particular problem just yet,” the man apologised, not looking very sorry at all. He leaned closer to Ali and his lips curled into a sly smile beneath his oiled moustache. “But we could always provide you with a little … ‘distraction’, if you'd like?”

“No thank you!” Ali replied quickly, snatching up the keys and backing away from the man. He wasn't that bothered by the sounds, if he was being really honest - they hadn't been too loud save for the occasional creaking of the flimsy bed. He just didn't want to hear those sounds coming from people he actually knew; from people he could actually imagine doing all the things that they were doing to each other. He shuddered at the thought, then headed for the stairs to go find his new dwellings. “The new room will be enough for me!”

He didn't care what the Afshin said; next time, he would be the one getting their rooms.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 20: Saidin

Welcome back to my reread folks! It's almost Christmas so let's tell a story about the big man himself (pictured above). He might just have a present for you! I also have one: the usual warning that this reread has spoilers for the whole of the series. Don't keep reading if you don't like that.

Once again we have a painfully obvious chapter icon. This chapter is called saidin. It's got the Dragon's Fang. I literally don't know what to say.

Rand kept them moving through the night, allowing only a brief stop at dawn, to rest the horses. And to allow Loial rest. With the Horn of Valere in its gold-and-silver chest occupying his saddle, the Ogier walked or trotted ahead of his big horse, never complaining, never slowing them.

Poor Loial. We have been drawing a lot of attention to his horse-free shenanigans at this point. I wonder if he's wondering why he even brought the damn horse.

Rand was sure she was no older than he, but at that moment she suddenly seemed as old and as cold as the mountains, and more regal than Queen Morgase at her haughtiest.

She is in fact older than most extant mountains.

“All I want is to see it in the light of day. I won’t even touch it. You hold it. It would be something for me to remember, you holding the Horn of Valere in your hands.”

I'm honestly not fully sure what she's up to here. Is it part of a plan, a way to try and establish her control over Rand, or is she just so power-hungry that she can't control herself?

He had never seen an Aes Sedai act the way she did, and she looked young, not ageless.

Considering that Jordan doesn't seem to have decided that the ageless look is the result of the Oath Rod yet (we'll cover that more next book I think), I can only assume that his intent was either becoming a Darkfriend interfered with that look or that the Mask of Mirrors weave's main purpose in bygone days would have been to hide channeling ability at all.

It was a kind of smile that always put his back up—but at least it was a smile.

Really there's a great deal of emotionally abusive tactics in Lanfear's arsenal, though frankly Jordan doesn't seem to fully recognize them as such considering how so many women act in the same ways. There's a lot that we could break down there but I think l'll leave it be.

“A village inn,” Selene sniffed. “Dirty, no doubt, and full of unwashed men swilling ale. Why can’t we sleep under the stars again? I find I enjoy sleeping under the stars.”

It's a common topic in the fandom about the hilarity of the Forsaken finding themselves in the current conditions, but I don't think it gets highlighted enough that Lanfear finds the modern era so repugnant given the choice between it and outright camping, she prefers camping.

Selene met his sally with silence and an unreadable look. After a moment, they started on again.

Lanfear suffers from the same affliction of many smart people in that she's very clever but not the least bit persuasive, nor good at figuring out how others will respond to her persuasion. She's probably so used to just using Compulsion and brute force to get what she wants at this point that it's hard to tell if she was always like this or if she was a better people person in the AoL.

Out of the clay at the bottom of the pit slanted a gigantic stone hand holding a crystal sphere, and it was this that shone with the last sunlight.

Ozymandias eat your heart out. Getting completely buried until now probably helped the male Choedan Kal a great deal; considering that the female one has spent the last three and a half thousand years partially exposed. We know that Portal Stones can be worn down too, so honestly I wonder if that exposure is what made the female statue much less reliable than the male.

Selene rode close and took hold of his arm. “Please, Rand, you must come away.” He looked at her hand, puzzled, then followed her arm up to her face. She seemed genuinely worried, perhaps even afraid.

Honestly this situation has got to be completely terrifying. The Choedan Kal could absolutely obliterate Rand if he tried to use it directly and Lanfear wouldn't even have enough warning that he was doing it so she'd get fried too. And of course, she can't just tell him because there's too many lies between both of them already.

“Till shade is gone,” he mumbled, “till water is gone . . .” Power filled him. He was one with the sphere. “. . . into the Shadow with teeth bared . . .” The power was his. The Power was his. “. . . to spit in Sightblinder’s eye . . .” Power to Break the World. “. . . on the last day!”

If you don't agree that this is one of the most badass sayings in this series, please unfollow me immediately.

“Did I . . . do something?” He frowned, trying to remember.

Something happened Rand, but honestly even I'm not quite sure what. Genetic memories gave you the willpower necessary to survive? Lanfear did some kind of trick to separate you from the sa'angreal? A safety mechanism within managed to still function after all this time and rejected your connection without a key? The Wheel realized there was literally no logical way to prevent your demise and so just kinda skimmed over what should have happened next?

I seriously have no idea what happened. Makes it hard to talk about this chapter to be honest because even the Wiki only gives me a "he breaks free" explanation and while obviously Rand does get better I'm not sure that "breaks free" is the correct description. I even checked Leigh Butler's reread since that's pretty on-point. Nada.

What the fuck happened here?

The people eyed the newcomers curiously, with no sign of hostility. A few stared a moment longer at Loial, an Ogier walking alongside a horse as big as a Dhurran stallion, but never more than a moment longer.

I doubt very much that there'd be much traffic through here (the Hunters for the Horn mentioned next chapter are clearly exceptional), since there's not really any civilization for miles past this point, but maybe the stories of Ogier hold on a little stronger in these parts since they're such a big part of Cairhien?

“The Nine Rings” had been one of his favorite adventure stories when he was a boy; he supposed it still was.

Now what could that be a reference to?

“I can’t, Selene. The Horn. . . .” He looked around. A man looked out his window across the way, then twitched the curtains closed; evening darkened the street, and there was no one else in sight now except Loial and Hurin. “The Horn is not mine. I told you that.”

Another temptation rejected, I suppose. Poor boy's gotta be doing a lot of that lately, and he's really only going to get worse at it for awhile.

Next time: Light-hearted inn shenanigans.

[seriously-nobody]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Chapter 12

Warnings: Romance, mention of murder

Preface: I'm cutting this one off here so I can finish out the Crump Manor segment.

“Y/n, darling~” You feel a gentle pet against your head. You mumble something incoherent. “I'm sorry I have to wake you, but we do have business to attend to tonight, remember?” He kisses the top of your head. You blink your eyes open sleepily. “Ah there we are.” he smiles at you, running his thumb over your cheek. You smile groggily up at him, admiring his features in the red tinted lamp light. You check the time and groan. “I suppose it's time to leave.” You sigh, getting up and stretching. “You know,” he slides to the edge of the bed. “you don't have to go back if you don't want to. We could stay here together. You could live here with me. You wouldn't have to worry about any of those mortals or that beastly servant ever again.” He says. You mull it over in your head for a second. “As tempting as that is, I know they would come looking for me. Their demises are inevitable either way. Might as well get it over with in a quick and clean fashion rather than draw it out.” You ponder. “If you must.” Alistair sighs, rolling his eyes and motioning the door to open for you.

“Promise I'll let you have some fun with the servants.” You say, descending the stairs. “Now that I would enjoy.” He grins, levitating next to you. The front door swings open for you, and you step out into the courtyard. You untie your horse and hear a rumble of thunder. Dark clouds billow and curl, moving quickly in the direction of the mansion. “Looks like there will be quite the storm tonight.” You say. “All the better for ambiance.” Alistair says, and you chuckle, walking to the front gate. You close the gate and try to make it seem it was untouched. “Allow me.” Alistair says, and you back away. He stretches out his hand, and the vines move on their own, stretching and interlacing and tangling back into place almost perfectly. “Still have a few tricks up your sleeve?” You tilt your head at him in awe. “A few? Darling, I have many.” He tugs at his glove. “Better make it back quickly before the downpour.” You say, mounting your horse. You spur onward into a gallop and think about what may happen when you return to the mansion.

Chapter 14