#and spend some time recruiting more animators

[junkdyke]

classes start today, i still have to draw new stuff and tattoo at a convention this weekend, i need to finish booking up clients for SF and leave for that in 2 weeks, 2 days after I get back i'm apparently going to fucking WISCONSIN to tattoo, then a few weeks later i'm gonna be tattooing in Denver, all while directing this film that is SO behind AND working on my grad show portfolio AND booking for regular LA clients and trying to make enough money that i'll be super secure to move out of my homophobic house right after graduation, i am going to lose my mind!!!!!

[ceilidho]

prompt: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 2. (part 1 here)

-

The urge sits right under his skin.

It’s a month out from hibernation, the torpor not quite sunk in all the way just yet. Plenty of time still to stockpile supplies, train the new rangers before his leave of absence, and chop all the firewood needed for the winter months. Plenty of time on the surface, that is—with only a month left to go, John quietly acknowledges to himself that maybe he bit off more than he could chew this time around. 

It’s exhausting work though. The new batch of recruits are fresh-faced, hardly experienced enough yet to last the season without him, but he hadn’t had much choice with Gaz taking the year off to go back to school. He’s been regularly putting in sixty to seventy hour weeks, hardly leaving him any time to cook or clean or prep for hibernation. Time goes by in a flash. He hasn’t even done a quarter of the repairs around the house that he’d wanted to finish before slipping into the winter torpor.

Hard to figure it out. He’s been putting it off without a real reason, getting lost in the forest for long swaths of time, trudging through the new snow up high in the mountains. Hardly ever in his bear form, conscious of not totally giving over to the animal, but occasionally he can’t help slipping into like tumbling down a snowbank, just losing his footing for a moment and sliding, sliding, sliding until hours have passed and he finally hears his own chuffs and feels branches crack under the weight of his paws.

He winces when he turns back, bones creaking and cracking back into place. 

John has been smelling something around town for weeks now, something sweet and delicate like sap over a branch, but work has left him too busy to start anything. Instead he stops by the grocers every other day, where the scent is strongest, to pick up miscellaneous items. Canned soup here, steaks there. He stockpiles canned and tinned goods in his den, preparing for the long winter when he’s lulled into sleep for extended periods of time, but every time he enters his den, it feels oddly bereft. Empty. Missing something.

The month or so before hibernation always leaves him feeling groggy and laconic; it makes his eyes go half-lidded and his speech descend into grunts and one-worded answers. He spends so many weeks hoarding food and blankets and firewood for the brief moments when he wakes that he can’t stop himself from eyeing even the pretty cashier like another thing to hoard.

He holds himself back, but just.

John wakes up on the couch after a particularly rough shift, groggy and out of sorts. Flecks of sleep stuck in the corners of his eyes still. He’d run into another bear (a real one) on the trail hassling a couple hikers during his shift and it’d taken a couple stressful minutes to gently guide the hikers away before dealing with the bear himself. It’s easier to deal with them in his bear skin, but he generally avoids shifting in the month leading up to hibernation for a reason. It settles him deeper into his bear, draws the sleep closer.

He’s full of cuts and bruises, his side covered in a barely healed, particularly nasty gash, the flesh knitting itself together slowly. His stomach growls. He hadn’t had a chance to cook himself any supper when he got home before collapsing on the couch—had barely eaten lunch as well. That’s part and parcel of his way of life; even during the summer, the days had been long, extending well into the twilight hours. 

And bears need food. John burns calories faster than most, an enormous amount of energy expended when shifting into his other form. He’s a familiar face at every restaurant, grocery store, and market in town for a reason, even if that reason isn’t widely known. In the summer, there was at least some time during the day to gorge himself on berries or fish from a nearby stream, but the berries and fish have long disappeared with the coming of winter. It shouldn’t come as a surprise—hunger dominates his mind during the months leading up to winter—but it’s somehow caught him off guard this year. 

His head perks up when the doorbell rings. 

It doesn’t ring again, but he can hear someone on the other side of his front door, shifting from foot to foot. John isn’t expecting anyone and doesn’t remember inviting anyone over, but he gets up anyway to answer the door. 

There’s a pretty little thing waiting for him on his front porch with a bowl of stew and homemade sourdough bread. He recognizes her from the grocery store, the sweet smelling thing always looking over at him from the till. 

“Sorry to trouble you,” she says, peeking around him. Probably trying to be inconspicuous. 

It slots something in his chest into the right place. He shifts slightly to let her peer over his shoulder into the empty house; no wife or kids scurrying behind him. It eases some of the tension in her shoulders.

“No trouble,” John says. “What’s got you on my doorstep after hours bringing over supper?”

She’s exquisitely shy, almost nervous when she steps from foot to foot before holding the food out closer to him. He takes it, if only to avoid watching her strain. In his hands, it smells entirely too good; makes his mouth water. His bear huffs in his head. John can’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal. Certainly not since well before his mother passed. 

“You seemed like—I saw you come home. You looked dead on your feet, so I thought…well, I’d already made soup, so it wasn’t much trouble.”

“You saw me come home?” he repeats.

“Oh, I, uh—I live next door.”

“That so?”

She flushes prettily, just the slightest deepening of the colour over her cheekbones. “Yeah. Six months now. Moved in just before the summer. Anyway, I, well…sorry if you were in the middle of supper, I wasn’t sure if—I heard from Kate that you’ve been busy, so I thought you might appreciate not having to cook.”

“That’s mighty kind of you,” he says. There’s a pause where neither of them say anything. “Can I—I have, uh, a bowl in the kitchen if you want—”

She holds up her hands at that, taking a step back. “Oh no, sorry, I don’t want to…I don’t mean to intrude. I just thought I’d…you know…friendly neighbour and all.”

“It’s no trouble, really. Come inside.”

“No, I—I really have to get going,” she insists, finally turning away from him and descending back down the stairs. “Enjoy your supper!”

He watches her turn and scurry off back to her house, glancing down back once only to give a little start when she catches him still watching her. His nose twitches when he notices that even with the tupperware stacked in his hands, the distinct sweetness that had been hovering outside his door gradually dissipates in his neighbour’s absence. 

His bear rumbles inside his chest. 

In the mountains, he ruminates on his neighbour’s small kindness. It builds in his chest like a slow burning fire when he stands in the brisk cold and stares down into the valley below. The snow squeaks under his boots on the hike back down. The ache of hunger echoes through him again; he thinks of tupperware offered to him in two soft hands. Next time, he’ll invite her in. 

He’s pleasantly surprised when she comes by again not a few days later, this time bringing along with her a pan filled with berry cobbler, tinfoil crinkling under her fingers when she hands him the entire pan. The next day, she stops by with a jar of homemade apple cider. 

It takes awhile for John to coax her inside. She brushes off his invitations to join him for supper for days before he notices the cracks in her resolve. She lingers on the porch for longer than she should, body oriented towards his house even when she says that she has to go. John considers for all of a few seconds just dragging her inside, but there’s something immensely rewarding in reeling her in slowly. A slow hunt and the promise of a meal so decadent that it leaves his tongue heavy in his mouth.

When she finally concedes, his blood roars hot, the beast in his chest thickly nuzzled under his skin, satisfied. 

She’s skittish in his house. Hardly stays for more than ten minutes the first time he succeeds in getting her in. Just long enough to take a couple bites out of the gingerbread loaf that she’d brought over and he’d cut a few slices off before retracing her steps back to the front door. John holds back the instinctive urge to follow her and trap her in with a hand flat on the door when she tries to open it. It’s better to earn her trust. 

His interest just goes up and up as she continues feeding him throughout the week. Perfect mate keeping his belly full, keeping him nourished after a hard day’s work. She keeps him company on the couch when he invites her over on the weekend, dragging her little socked feet over the carpet and snuggling up on the other side of the couch like he might reach out and grab her. He might.

Part of John can’t believe that he’s been living beside this girl for going on six months and never scented her before. It permeates his house now, baked into the walls and carpet. He wishes sometimes she’d stop by and use his bed for a nap, if only so that he could come home to a bed smelling of her; he’d wrap a firm hand around his cock with the scent of her under his nose and tug himself off with his face pressed to his pillow, imagining her trapped under him, the plush pillows of her ass turned up to let him rut between her thighs. 

Her feeding him and spending time with him is confusing though. It confuses his bear, who associates all those things with mate. It’s nature to want to keep the thing feeding him. 

So he can’t help the way his bear expects her now. When he wakes up in his bed without a smaller body tucked away in his arms, it leaves him foul-tempered, short with his men. Picking up groceries becomes more difficult than ever when he instinctively beelines to her when he walks through the automatic doors, pleasure coiling in his chest at the sight of her staring wide-eyed at him. Always a bit shy, even as it slowly melts from her like old snow. Timidity from a season ago, still frosted over but shrinking. 

He doesn’t stop himself from dragging her into his lap before passing out on the couch after a long day at work, leaving her befuddled and uncertain. His arms don’t let her up though; they keep her pinned to his chest until he wakes back up an hour later, nuzzling the bristles of his beard over the soft skin of her neck and dragging a big palm up the inside of her thigh, seeking out the warmth between her legs even half-asleep.

His hand pauses its upward trajectory when she shifts. He’s slow to come back to consciousness, but far slower to move his hand. Mate, his bear rumbles in his chest when his fingers dig into the clutch of her thighs and John hears her muffle a yip. She should be soft and pliable for him, should let him drag his hand up into the space between her legs that she’s kept hot and tender for his touch. 

John lets her pretend at sleep until he finally moves his hand away, moving to sit up and leaving her curled up on the couch. He goes off to the kitchen to put on the kettle and comes back to find her awake, stammering out an apology for falling asleep. 

“None of that,” he grumbles, setting two mugs down on the coffee table. He sits beside her before she gets the bright idea to get up and leave. 

“Sorry, I didn’t plan on staying this long. I should get back—”

“Someone waiting for you at home?” John interrupts, curt despite himself. 

The idea of her going home to someone instantly aggravates him. Even knowing for a fact that there isn’t a man living in her house doesn’t tamp down the anger. He’s scented the exterior of her house once or twice; John would’ve caught the smell of another man by now if there had ever been one living in her house. He’s held off marking her house with come or piss, but that might have to change if she keeps dangling the possibility of there being another man over his head.

It’s his fault for not marking her yet. The trees in the mountains have been marked up over the years that he’s lived in this town, deep gouges in the bark marking the forest as his territory, but he hasn’t yet rubbed his scent into his mate’s skin. It’s his fault she’s still acting like an unattached sow. 

She hesitates; risks lying to him. He can see it plain on her face. “…No.”

His face softens, eyebrows pulling together sympathetically. “I’m not such bad company, am I? Stay for a little longer—all that food’s gonna go to waste otherwise.”

“I—I guess I can.”

“Brilliant. Drink your tea, honey.”

She picks up her mug and sips it quietly while John shifts her feet into his lap and digs his thumbs into her right sole. He shushes her when she jolts and tries to sit up, digging this thumb harder into the arch of her foot. 

“Enough of that. Back down,” he scolds.

“You, but you shouldn’t—you don’t have to do that,” she stammers, trying to pull her foot away and moaning inadvertently when he digs into a sore spot. Her hand clamps down on her mouth.

“Don’t give me that, aren’t you on your feet all day? And then baking for me after a long shift? It’s the least I can do, honey.”

She’s reluctant at first, but then squeaks again he rubs his thumb over the ball of her foot. Hardly able to deny the truth. It isn’t long until her little squeaks and moans start coming out unbidden, exhaustion opening her up. He can smell her sex leaking if he breathes in deep enough. 

“Promise to stay here and wait until I fix up supper?” he murmurs, keeping his voice low. 

She hums, eyes having slid shut. Without even really moving her lips, she mumbles, “Promise.”

“Good girl.”

Sleep warm, she finally settles into his house like she belongs, like she’ll be spending the long winter here as well. Her scent is as imbued in the couch as his. It’s cinnamon sweet. 

“Why do you even…buy so much food if you aren’t gonna use it?” she asks, drowsy enough that even if he were to respond, there’s a chance she wouldn’t hear it. “You hibernating or something?”

John smiles. “Something like that.”

[hannahbarberra162]

Mating Call, Part 1 (Marco x Reader, dubcon, monster Marco)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

Summary: The World Government has worked hard to obfuscate an interesting fact about Zoan Devil Fruits since the Void Century. In order for a Zoan Devil Fruit to be awakened, the Zoan user must find and claim their mate in accordance with their nature.

Zoan fruit users are driven to find their mates, seeking someone to fill the gnawing need within them, even if they don't recognize it themselves.

~

Thank you to @gouraminnow and @sordidmusings for reading through this for me! This whole series is a collab with @sordidmusings who came up with the idea of Zoans needing their mate to awaken their fruit - I'm hoping to write for more Zoans so I'm starting with one of my favorites :3

~

You had toiled and worked hard for so many years so that your life would be absolutely perfect. All your plans, all your studying and grinding, all the years of work and tests and memorization - all of it had finally paid off and now you were able to do what you wanted most in life. 

Absolutely nothing.  

Well, that wasn’t quite true. 

You did still have to work occasionally as the private physician for CP0, but they weren’t often at Enies Lobby where you lived in the year round sunshine. And even when they were in town, they didn’t usually need any help from you other than routine medical care when they were forced to come into your office. The most intense work you’d done in the past 6 months was examining Hattori when he’d plucked out too many of his own feathers after a long night and you told him to decrease his alcohol intake. 

You were double certified as a physician and veterinarian, which is how you landed the particularly high paying gig as CP0’s personal physician. After spending a decade (and small fortune) becoming a human doctor you realized that you didn’t care for people all that much. So you went back to school and became a vet and found the work much more satisfying. The patients were always much sweeter and never lied to you, unlike treating ungrateful humans.

The job had fallen into your lap after you’d been recruited by Sengoku himself. You’d been living in the New World after you graduated from vet school and taking contracts on various islands to see where you’d like to live, hopefully somewhere warm and sunny. Sengoku had burst into the small vet clinic, Yagi baying dolefully in his arms and demanded the help of the most senior vet on the island. You happened to be the only vet on the island, so you took care of his pet goat and gave it topical antibiotics for its case of orf. 

After his careful examination of his beloved pet and copious amounts of reassurance that Yagi would be fine, Sengoku asked you a few questions about your background. He said he had the perfect job opportunity for you with your expertise in both animals and humans as repayment for helping Yagi. You hadn’t known what that meant at the time and frankly hadn’t cared when he showed you the salary - for that kind of money and job security you’d be willing to be Yagi’s personal assistant.

It turned out the Marines wanted someone competent in animal and human physiology to be available for the Zoan members of CP0 should they need a doctor. Since you graduated at the top of your class for both, you were a shoe in for the position and started shortly thereafter. You weren’t exactly a Marine since you didn’t go through their ranks but you were a contracted officer in the Medical Corps. You didn’t mind wearing the uniform and you didn’t have to go through basic training so however they justified your expensive salary was on them.

Yes, you were finally living the life you’d always wanted. You bought a small house close to the less inhabited shore of the island in order to have some well deserved privacy after years of living with multiple roommates in cramped apartments near your schools. You would roll out of bed in the late morning, check your snail for messages and find it empty, check your empty mailbox, and meander to the office. By early afternoon you’d be free from work and could pursue your hobbies. Technically you were on call 24/7 for CP0 (hence the high salary) but if they weren’t on the island the most they could do is call in an emergency and you could handle those questions under any circumstances. 

Which meant that you spent your leisure time painting, singing, walking on the beach, getting high, and listening to music. Since you were only contracted with the Marines you didn’t have other duties and they couldn’t call you in to do anything beyond your contract. You painted some of the wildlife in the woods by your house, practiced singing some of the songs you heard on the snails and tried out every strain of marijuana you could get your hands on - the latest hit being mariejois-uana. Your life was fantastic and you were finally able to relax after decades of hard work. 

Well, mostly. The drive that had gotten you this far in life also forced you to ensure that the animals of the island were at least in good health. After so many years in high pressure environments, you needed��a little work to feel like you were a full person. To get your fill of needed stress, you took on vet clients outside of CP0 but it was run of the mill domestic pet issues. It didn’t keep you up at night and you were able to enjoy the fruits of your labors. After so many years of working high stress, low paying jobs, you’d finally hit the jackpot and were able to do jack shit most of the time.

Like today - it was the end of yet another sunny day at Enies Lobby and the cool evening weather was just perfect for opening all your windows, getting high as fuck to listen to the latest Soul King album. You began softly humming the tune to his latest hit as you opened the windows to let in the evening breeze. As the curtains fluttered softly in the night, something sent a shiver down your spine, a rare moment of heebie jeebies. You usually felt safe at Enies Lobby, the base the heart of the Marine Corp and filled to the brim with people who could fight -  but something felt off today. 

You looked out the window from behind the curtains but didn’t see anything beyond the usual sights of the town in the distance. To get rid of the feeling of eyes on you, you closed the curtain a little but kept the windows open as you rummaged around for the newest Soul King album. You thought you’d left it on the coffee table but it wasn’t there - maybe you moved it into the bedroom? Mariejoisuana was supposed to take you to the highest heights - and made your memory shit too. You walked towards the bedroom to check there when you heard unfamiliar voices talking.

“Just use it man, it’s for the greater good.”

“I dunno, it feels bad. I’ve never used it outside of battle. Kinda feels like I’m just kidnapping a defenseless woman -”

“We are kidnapping a defenseless woman, but it’s for a good reason so -” 

“ ShhHH! She’ll hear us and yell and make this whole thing so much harder than it has to be. I’d rather not have to fight 10,000 Marines, thank you very much Ace.”

You didn’t need to hear any more to know that you needed to escape now. There had been some Marine training around threats but you hadn’t really listened to the presentation - you assumed everyone else was. You kept moving swiftly towards your bedroom and thanked the gods your window was already open. You got your leg out the window to jump but hesitated as you looked down. The voices were getting louder but you were scared to make the jump to the ground below. You sat on the windowsill and brought your other leg out. You took a deep breath and prepared to push off -

“ Goddammit! I told you she was trying to escape! Oh no you don’t. Vortex,” a man’s voice said from behind you. You didn’t turn around, too scared to look, and pushed off the ledge. You braced for impact but…there was none. Instead you were being pulled back none too gracefully towards the two men, both of whom you unfortunately recognized. The feeling was completely foreign, like being stuck in honey that was slowly oozing back towards your bedroom. You’d been planning on screaming for help but your mouth snapped shut in the face of the pirates rucking up your nice rug.

Fire Fist Ace and Dark Blade Thatch. Both powerful Devil Fruit users, both with bounties in the billions, and both currently tracking mud in your little house. 

The force Thatch was emitting onto you was pulling you back towards him much more rapidly than you anticipated. “W-wait, please, I don’t know what you want - I have some money -” you tried to bargain in the vain hope that’s what they wanted.

“Nah, sorry lady. We don’t need your money, we need your help. Ooh, and this weed,” Ace said, plucking your baggie off the coffee table and stuffing it into his pocket. By now you were practically at Thatch’s side and you renewed your struggles to get away while you spoke. Your arms felt like they were bound to your sides and your feet had no traction against the wood floors as you tried to escape.

“My help? I mean, I’m a veterinarian. Lotsa people can -”

“The Zoan doctor, right?” Dark Blade said, staring at you as he kept you within arm’s reach. 

“Um. That’s not - I - I have treated a few Zoan Devil Fruit users, sure, but nothing -”

“For those CP9 fucks, right? Er, I forgot their new name - CP10 or some shit,” Ace said as he looked around your living room. His fingers were running over your music snail as he checked out your albums.

“H-hey, don’t touch! And yeah, I’m the vet - er, doctor for CP0 but I promise I don’t know anything important about them, they don’t even like talking to me -” you really didn’t know any pertinent weaknesses or information about CP0 and if they wanted to know about devil fruits, their own Zoan doctor would know more.

“We don’t care about the cat and dog. We need your help right now, so we’re going. Sorry for this,” Dark Blade said with a frown, his eyes flashing with sympathy. You were distracted by Fire Fist touching your records again, getting his greasy fingers on your pristine records.

“Be careful! Those are gonna break, don’t stack them like that. You gotta hold them upright-” you started to say as you watched Ace piled your records in his hands. “Wait, sorry for what?” you asked, pulling your gaze away from Fire Fist who was totally going to crack one of your favorite records.

“ Black Hole.”  

You lolled your head to the side, completely sure you had been squished by Sengoku’s hand yourself. Every part of you ached down to your bones, including your clavicle which you were pretty sure was broken. Maybe you’d had a little too much Divine Departure weed the night before and had fallen or something - that shit always gave you a wicked hangover the next day. Taking stock of your situation, you were abruptly brought to sitting by extremely warm hands. You should talk to them about their fever, you thought as you cracked open your eyes. 

Oh, right. Fire Fist Ace. 

He had you sitting up against his torso as one of his feet powered the small boat that you were on via fire combustion. It wasn’t Striker, the infamous one person boat you’d been taught to identify on sight by the Marines. This was bigger, a medium sized skiff. His arm was wrapped around you tightly as Thatch prepared something with his back turned to you. The boat was sailing rapidly in the night, jostling you as the hull flew over the waves. There was a storage hatch under the deck of the ship and it seemed large for such a small ship.

“Told ya we shoulda just tied her up, she’s all busted now,” Ace grumbled as Thatch turned to face the two of you. He had a canteen of water and a few pills in his hands. You stiffened against Ace, who took the opportunity to adjust you further upright. He slowed the boat down so you’d be able to drink and talk on the sea as you sailed in the night waters.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I didn’t mean to keep you in there so long,” Thatch remarked, reaching to hand you the water and the pills. You recoiled away from him, unsure if the offerings were a request or a demand.

“In where? How long?” you rasped, your throat bone dry. The drops of perspiration on the canteen had you rethinking your refusal as Thatch tried offering it to you again.

“In the black hole. It was only a few days, I didn’t think it would hurt you so badly. Take this, it’s just water and ibuprofen. It’ll help with your injuries,” he explained, handing you the items. You took the pills in your good hand and the canteen in your injured one, the weight of the water pulling on your broken clavicle. You eyed the water and pills skeptically but at this point it wasn’t like you had many other options and you really wanted the water.

“It’s not drugged, promise,” Thatch said, raising his hands with a smile. 

“Why would you say that? I didn’t think it was,” you replied, rolling your eyes. The pills looked legit as far as you could tell so you popped them into your mouth with your good arm and switched the canteen to your good hand since you couldn’t raise your arm above chest height without hurting your shoulder more.

“Force of habit I guess? People always seem to think I’m going to drug them,” Thatch said with a sunny smile and a shrug of his shoulders. You grimaced and raised the water to your lips, thankful for the cool liquid coursing down your throat.

“That’s because you do drug them,” Ace said, checking the log pose that was on the arm wrapped around your waist. Thatch scoffed as if he was offended. 

“That’s not true! It’s only once in a while, and usually when Marco asks me to. Oh, which reminds me, we should tell you what’s going on,” Thatch said, scratching his goatee. Your stomach sank - Marco the Phoenix was an incredible doctor regardless of his fighting feats. If there was a problem he couldn’t solve you weren’t confident you’d be able to figure it out. In addition to his battle prowess, he also was a formidable physician and often sent letters of dispute to scientific journals when they published bad studies or studies with poorly drawn conclusions. You’d actually gone back and forth with him once on a study about interspecies compatibility in various ecosystems- you still thought you were correct but he had raised excellent points as well. Either way, if there was an issue with Whitebeard, Marco would be the better choice to fix it, not some doctor-turned-vet with a penchant for White Snake weed.

“The Marines aren’t going to pay a hostage fee for me, it’s in my contract,” you explained, taking another sip of the water. It was the best ambrosia you’d ever had after being stuck in that place for unknown amounts of time. You remembered being sucked into a black hole but nothing after that until you reawoke. It was like having a double hangover mixed with the Sunday scaries - not even including the stabbing pains from your shoulder as the boat bounced as it hit waves. 

“It’s a little sad they don’t care about you,” Ace said as he adjusted the trajectory of the boat towards something faintly glowing in the distance. “You work so hard for them -”

“I mean, not really,” you interjected with feigned nonchalance. “But yeah, they’re not coming. So if you’re going to kill me or if it's money you want -”

“Again, we don’t need money, and we’re not going to kill you,” Thatch explained, rolling his eyes. “We need help with Marco.” Your eyes narrowed - that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“You need me to help Marco the Phoenix with something?” you asked, trying to understand the situation. Ace and Thatch locked eyes and Ace looked away. 

“Something like that. Here, eat this. I’m not sure what’s left in the cave,” Thatch said, handing you a sandwich. You closed and set down the canteen to take the sandwich in your good hand. Now that you were up and moving around the pain in your shoulder was growing by the minute even with the ibuprofen. 

“What’s with your hand?” Ace asked, poking your shoulder. You hissed in pain and dropped the sandwich into the small puddle of water at the bottom of the boat.

“It’s not ok, I broke my clavicle. Or, you did, I suppose,” you said, fishing the sandwich out of the water and throwing a nasty glance at Thatch. The sandwich was a little wet but you’d eaten worse. 

“Sorry about that, I tried to make the dimension with as little gravity as I could. I’m not used to kidnapping non-fighters, all the other doctors before you were other pirates. Marco’ll probably fix it for you,” Thatch assured you. Ace just hummed.

“What do you mean ‘probably’? I thought that was his thing, that he healed people,” you asked, talking with your mouth full of the soggy bread. The meaty sandwich wasn’t too bad, even wet.

“Well…that’s the problem. He would treat you if he was in his human form. Or even his hybrid form. Or even his normal Zoan form. But he’s in a weird version of his Zoan form and we can’t get him to change out of it,” Thatch said, reclining in the little boat. “He won’t talk to us and he won’t leave the cave he’s holed up in. We don’t know why,” he explained. The sandwich turned to ash in your mouth as you swallowed a large lump.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, looking at Thatch. Thatch looked at Ace, Ace looked at you. Both of them shrugged.

“THAT WAS YOUR PLAN? That I would know what to do? How the fuck should I know?” you yelled at them, momentarily forgetting your pain to flail your arms. You immediately retracted your arm like a wounded wing, cradling your arm to your chest to quell the rising pain.

“Because you’re the Zoan doctor,” Ace said, like it was a completely rational thought.

“Yeah, for like, Kaku! He doesn’t get stuck as a giraffe! How the fuck am I gonna help him? I don’t even have a devil fruit or anything! Oh my fucking gods,” you said, your head falling into your one uninjured hand. The teal glow in the distance was getting brighter. “Are you taking me to him now? What the actual fuck is your plan?” you asked rhetorically. Ace rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, nearly dislodging his hat.

“Well, he’s done this before. But never for so long and he’s never refused to change back either. He used to hole up in his room for a few days and be all broody but come back about an inch taller and a whole lot stronger,” Thatch said, completely undisturbed by your outburst. 

“Yeah, he’s a phoenix. It’s part of his rebirth cycle,” you grumbled as you took in the information. The Marines had lent you a banned book about Zoan fruits and the forms they took and you’d read it during your training. There had been a section about the Phoenix and you had glossed over it, focusing more on the fruits you’d be working with. Now you wished you’d paid more attention outside of the individual patients you saw - maybe some of that information could have come in handy.

“See? You’re doing so good already!” Ace said with a grin. “You know more than us and everyone else we’ve tried.”

“Everyone else? Are there a lot of pirates there? You said you brought some doctors,” you asked hesitantly, unsure you wanted to hear the answer.

“Not anymore,” Thatch replied, his grin fading. “But you’ll do well, I can feel it. There’s something about you - I’m not sure what - that I think he’ll like. Marco ‘n I have been brothers for decades now, I can pick his type out of a crowd,” Thatch said, regaining his smile in what you were guessing was meant to be a show of support.

Fuck. 

A couple of hours later the boat had reached a small island. There wasn’t much on the island except for a large mountain, a beach, and a small forest. A bright blue light was blazing from inside a large cave on the side of the twin mountain peaks, like a wild fire in the night. The closer the boat got to the shoreline, the more your head and shoulder hurt. How the fuck were you going to get Marco to change back? What would happen if you didn’t? What happened to the others who had tried? 

You had spent the previous hours on the boat trying to think back through everything you could remember about the Tori Tori no Mi, Phoenix model but couldn’t remember all that much more than general information. You knew more about Zoan fruits than most people on the Grand Line but that didn’t make you an expert. You tried focusing on the information you did remember - you had a feeling you’d be needing it soon.

From your reading you knew that Marco would be going through life and death cycles, dying and being reborn from his own ashes. He’d become stronger with every cycle but ultimately stall in awakening his fruit unless...something. You’d read it but kind of glossed over the information, completely sure you’d never need it. You weren’t sure why the World Government had banned the information but you’d signed many forms to the effect that you wouldn’t tell a soul otherwise you’d be sent to Impel Down for treason. Even so, some of it didn’t pertain to your ability to care for Cipher Pol so you hadn’t tried hard to retain the information about awakening. Either they did or didn’t awaken their fruits but it didn’t affect how you’d treat them.

The boat stopped as it hit the rocky shore of the beach and Ace hopped off to tether it to a nearby rock. There was already a rope attached to the rock for docking, they’d clearly been here at least a few times before. The light from the cave was now pulsating and a sharp bird cry pierced through the night. Goosebumps blossomed on your skin as the reverberations continued to bounce off the peaks in the darkness of the night. You had no desire to get any closer and were just about to take your chances swimming away - even with your broken clavicle - when Thatch’s hand clamped down on your good shoulder. 

“C’mon, he’s waiting.” Thatch had gathered all the items in storage into a large sack that he’d slung over his shoulder. He threw the sack onto the shore and stepped into the water, which only reached his knees.

“Up ya go,” Thatch said, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder with ease. You tried to hide your whine as your bad clavicle was jostled but Thatch merely gave you a sympathetic look and kept moving. As a physician you knew there wasn’t really anything to do for a broken clavicle except wait for it to heal but in the meantime it really, really hurt.

“Sorry, chica. I’d let you walk but I don’t feel like chasing you down. Saves us all some time,” Thatch explained as he went up the path towards the mountain. Ace had finished tying the boat and grabbed the large sack, falling in step with his fellow Commander. You weren’t saying anything and neither did they as the cry repeated in the night. It almost sounded like the call of a mourning dove, deep and resonant, as if calling out for someone. 

Shortly thereafter, Thatch approached the mouth of the unnaturally glowing cave. It was the kind of supernatural glow that had you wanting to scramble away but Thatch’s arm around you wasn’t budging. The lizard part of your brain flashed in warning -  nothing that made that kind of light was good for your future. Ace set down the bag and pushed it gently further into the cave.

“Marco…..Maaaaarrrcoooooo….we’re back!” Thatch yelled in a singsong voice into the cave. There was no reply.

“Marco, I know you can hear me…I brought more meat for you. And a doctor! A lady doctor this time!” he continued while setting you down. Your eyes darted towards the path to the beach but Ace shook his head at you, crossing his arms and taking a widened stance. 

“What the fuck’s a lady doctor? I’m a regular doct - er, veterinarian,” you hissed at him, annoyed at the gendered terms. You wished you kept your mouth shut as a giant, flaming blue bird head poked out of the cave and titled its eye to look at you. 

You froze where you stood, unable to move under the piercing gaze of the Phoenix.

You were familiar with Marco the Phoenix as he looked on his wanted posters. They usually showed him in his hybrid or human form but you’d also seen his full bird form in some archive footage you’d watched in researching all known logia devil fruit users. Marco was cited as an example for you to study as a human who was completely in tune with his Zoan counterpart -  Zoan and human one and the same, two sides of the same coin.

This being was not even the same kind of currency.

This was not Marco, nor was this the Phoenix as you’d seen it before. This was some kind of primordial god, imparting its judgement on mankind. Even glacing at the legendary creature gave you a sense of the weight of eons, something from a time long gone by. You almost had the urge to bow to it, to present your weak neck as tribute and sacrifice to something greater than yourself. 

From your memory, the Phoenix was large - as was Marco - but nothing like this. The Phoenix took up most of the space in the large, high ceilinged interior cave, leaving about twenty feet of space around it in any direction. It was enormous, the rippling flames of its body reaching to grace the walls with its movement. Whereas Marco’s flames promoted healing, you saw many scorch marks on the walls where something had been burned to a cinder. 

Not only that, it looked different than all the pictures and videos you’d seen. The Phoenix was normally light teal with a Whitebeard Pirates insignia on his chest and gold accents. Now the Phoenix was a deep blue ombre, going from the familiar teal down to a midnight blue nearly as dark as the sky. Not only that but the teal flames were flickering into red flame at the tips, more in line with the mythical creature rather than the pirate you’d seen. This was no healing Phoenix, this was an avenging god - and you were the sacrifice.

“Oh fuck no,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. The Phoenix’s head reared back only to bring its eye right next to your body. The head of the bird was roughly the size of your body and the beak was curved with sharp edges, ready to snap you in half. As the Phoenix shifted you saw some human bones behind its body, the charred remains the only signs of life besides you and the pirates in the cave. Your chest heaved with hyperventilation as Thatch pushed you further towards the animal.

“Hiya, Markie. We brought you some more food too. C’mon, change back for us, Pops misses ya,” Thatch said while sporting an overdone pout. The Phoenix trilled but didn’t take its eyes off of you as Thatch emptied the contents of the sack onto a stone slab in the cave. “Yeah! That’s her! Don’t kill this one, she was hard to get. She’s a vet and a doctor, isn’t that fun? I mean yeah, she’s a Marine -”

“- contracted by the Marines,” you interjected quietly, unable to break eye contact with the Phoenix. You backed up a few steps but Ace was right behind you, ready to stop you if you ran.

“Oh shit, really? I kinda feel bad then,” Ace said, clapping your shoulder. You winced and squeezed your fist. All the movement from being carried had caused you immense pain, you’d just forgotten it in the face of being eaten whole.

“Careful you stupid fuck, my clavicle’s still broken! By the way, gimme my fucking weed,” you hissed at Fire Fist. “You’re leaving me here to die either by bird or starvation -”

“Hey, be nice. We brought food! And Marco’s not gonna kill you,” Fire Fist said with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I bet you said the same thing to those other people and their charred femurs are saying something else,” you continued. “Gimme my weed back and at least let me die peacefully!” you whisper yelled at him. You didn’t want to yell in case that upset the Phoenix. Ace sighed but reached into his cargo shorts for the bag he’d taken from your house.

“Here, take it. But -”

“No buts. Buy your own or steal it from the next kidnapping victim,” you said, shaking it and grasping it in your hand.

“Was good shit too,” he grumbled, kicking the dirt. You wanted to continue going back and forth with him but Thatch had finished unpacking.

“Well, Markie, that’s our cue. Have fun but please try to change back. We’ll be by in a week or so if we don’t see you sooner,” Thatch said to Marco, giving him a facetious salute. “And uh, try your best? We’d really like our brother back so if you can fix him we’ll let you go,” Thatch said, almost as an afterthought.

“Wait, if the Phoenix doesn’t eat me and I can get him to turn back, you’ll take me back to Enies Lobby?” you asked.

“Ah, no. We’re too far from it now. I guess we’ll take you to an island with a Marine base on it or something,” Thatch said.

“Did the two of you think through any part of this plan?” you asked as Ace and Thatch walked together back to the front of the cave. You desperately wanted to leave with them, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Eh, usually Marco’s around to stop us from actualizing our bad ideas, but…well you know the problem. Good luck!” Thatch said brightly, waving to you. Ace waved too but was still grumbling about the weed. 

“W-wait! Just one ques-” you tried to follow just to ask if there was fresh water on the island but you shrieked as a giant blue wing cut you off from the receding pirates. The Phoenix hadn’t moved but shifted position and the giant wing covered the entrance to the cave. You tripped as you stepped backwards away from the fire, landing hard on your butt. The jostling hurt your clavicle and you felt tears threatening to fall. You breathed hard for a few moments but stood up. This was no time for tears - you had to keep your wits about you to survive the next week until Thatch and Ace came back.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on what to do next. Now that you were alone with the Phoenix in the cave, its close watch was making you more uneasy at every turn. It was still watching your every move as you shifted your weight on your feet. You moved back into the cave slowly, edging closer to the wall of the cave. It clearly didn’t like visitors if the bones were anything to go by and you didn’t want to be dinner. After you found a smooth expanse of cave wall, you lowered yourself to the ground to think more clearly about your situation. The Phoenix still had you in its sights but it wasn’t making any movements towards you.

After years of trainign, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing a visual exam of the animal in front of you. The Phoenix had flames gently lapping from its core, like waves as they went from the ocean to the shore. As you looked more carefully, you saw that parts of the Phoenix were singed - notably along the tips of its wings and near the joints. You didn’t really know all that much about its cycles but you were guessing it was getting closer to dying and being reborn.

The thought sparked another fear in you - if Marco died while you were there, what would Thatch and Ace do? It theoretically wasn’t possible since Marco was healthy and young but the nagging fear had a trickle of sweat rolling down your spine.

You took stock of the food on the table - if it was only you, there’d be more than enough to last you for a week. But you weren’t sure how much the Phoenix ate so it was difficult to determine how to ration everything. For right now the sandwich felt like lead in your stomach; you weren’t hungry anyway. Your neck was killing you though. You thought through your first aid training and decided to fashion a makeshift sling for yourself since the Phoenix wasn’t doing anything for you, despite Thatch’s assurances that it would heal you.

You unzipped and removed your outer shirt and set it on the ground. It was a Soul King sweatshirt you got at the concert you’d attended and not the right material for a sling. The Phoenix watched you indifferently but you still turned to face the wall when you tried to take off your tshirt. Surely the Phoenix wasn’t interested in your human body but the thought of being naked in front of it wasn’t appealing. It was difficult to remove your shirt, your broken bone not allowing you to take it off without immense discomfort. 

So many hours later, all the ibuprofen had worn off and you were trying to muffle your cries when you reached to peel your shirt off. You hissed loudly when you had to raise your shoulder, clutching at it in pain. It didn’t matter that it hurt for a short moment, you’d have to make a sling to stabilize the broken bone.  

Without warning, the teal wings of the Phoenix were about you, cocooning you within their flames. You screamed out of surprise, unsure if you were about to be eaten or killed in some other gruesome way. Its wings were keeping you in a feathered, fiery cage as you tried to find a way out. Suddenly the flames leapt over your body, making you jerk back in surprise. That only served to push you further into its plumage. The Phoenix’s beak was at your back, steadying you from falling again as its fire washed over your body.

Gone was the pain from your shoulder and clavicle, gone were all the smaller scrapes and pains you’d gotten on the boat ride, gone was even the small cut you’d gotten from sticking your finger into your can of Helmet Breaker beer when drinking. You were healed from head to foot while engulfed in the flames of the Phoenix.

The Phoenix moved its wing back to resting as you caught your breath from the experience. Its head was still right behind you as you leaned backwards, taking a moment to process what had happened. As a doctor and vet, you’d often dreamed about the types of powers that Marco had but you’d never met anyone who had felt them first hand. It was a heady experience, almost like when a wave bowled you over in the ocean, sending you tumbling under the water. You didn’t know which way was up and you weren’t sure you could find it if you tried. 

Now that the Phoenix had shifted its body, you were able to see the moon high in the sky. It was late at night and between the black hole, the boat ride, your clavicle, and the bird, you were feeling completely exhausted. You turned to the Phoenix and wanted to express your gratitude in some manner, even if it couldn’t understand you perfectly. You bit your lip and turned to the Phoenix, which was now considering you with a spark of cognition in its eyes. 

“Th-thank you,” you said, bowing perpendicular to the ground. You remained bowed for a moment, your hair moving to reveal the back of your neck. The Phoenix chuffed at you, but moved its head back towards the rest of its large body. Standing back upright, you slowly moved back to the spot you had been in before. You sat on the floor of the cave and lowered yourself to lie on the ground. It was cold but at least it was dry, you supposed. Wrapping yourself in your Soul King sweatshirt\, you yawned to yourself as you closed your eyes, much more tired now that you were lying down. 

You squeaked as you felt the hard beak of the Phoenix moving you closer to its body, like a game piece on a board. Your hands instinctively reached into its feathers to keep yourself stable due to the movement but once you realized what you’d done, you jerked them back away in fear that it would upset the giant carnivorous bird. But the Phoenix didn’t squawk or bite you, just tucked you under its wing like it would an errant chick. You didn’t dare move away from the position it had put you in, unsure what it wanted to do next. Little by little you relaxed as the Phoenix did as well, laying its long neck against its body and settling in for the night. 

Whereas the healing fire felt like it danced across your skin, now that the Phoenix was calm it felt more like energy lazily washing over you - like a low  current of electricity rather than the jolt you’d gotten before. The sensation was unusual but it did have some kind of calming effect on you as you tucked yourself closer into the Phoenix’s side. If it wanted you closer to its body until it ate you, you weren’t going to disagree. Your last thought before drifting off was that at least you’d be a warm meal. 

@mfreedomstuff

[cs-fox]

Hybrid AU TF141 - a request from a poll I did a while back ❤️

- if hybrids are allowed in the military, I’d assume they were picked because of their superior combat ability. These are not animals, these are soldiers, chosen for their heightened senses and special abilities that give them an edge over normal humans.

- and I bet they’d be so surprised when a normal human joins their taskforce. What was this all about? Surely this human couldn’t have skills equal to theirs?

- after a long time of avoiding this new recruit and her strange smell, slightly friendlier and more curious avian Kyle decides to engage.

- you’re actually quite nice, at least at the surface, and strangely not bothered by the hybrids too much. There’s a couple of scars on your form that makes Kyle wonder but he knows better than to ask.

- the big werewolf, Soap, is next. He sniffs you, actually sniffs you - big, bristly snout nuzzling into your armpit exactly like a real dog. You think it’s pretty adorable till he shifts back, when you realise there’s suddenly a bulky Scotsman with his arm around you - and a wolfish grin on his face.

- then there’s Price, an aging sheepdog, with a beard akin to his animal counterpart. His dark, beady eyes are kind, but seem to hold a lot of knowledge, and unnerve you every time they fall on your form.

- finally, Ghost. He’s a kind of shapeshifter, for use of a more mundane term, because of his parentage. There’s wolfish ears atop his thatched blonde head but shadows leak from his imposing form like dry ice.

- he almost doesn’t say a word when he approaches, simply observing, as you rock on the balls of your feet awkwardly.

- ‘Um - hi. I’m - ’ ‘Y/N.’ he says, with an unreadable look. ‘I’m Ghost.’

- ‘Well, it’s an honour,’ you tried, attempting reverence, but you didn’t see any change in his demeanour.

‘Mhm.’

His eyes were so powerful, you swore they were boring holes in you, trying to suck your soul out through your mouth.

‘I mean - being able to work with this team. It really is.’

The man didn’t even move, until you made some lame excuse and all but ran off down the corridor back to your quarters, where you stayed for the next hour, a little thrown off by the huge skull-masked man.

You only opened the door when you heard scratching - a small noise, like a tiny animal was begging to be let in.

Because Ghost, despite his stony exterior, had taken to you straight away. You were a kind of light to him - friendly, kind, and a little bit oblivious… even so, he couldn’t resist trying to get a peek inside your quarters - after all, being a shapeshifter had it’s uses.

When the door cracked open, there was a slim tortoiseshell cat, with beautiful dark eyes. You gazed at it in wonder - how did a cat get into the barracks?

It mewled softly, and you scooped it up, grunting slightly at its unusual weight.

‘C’mon baby. I’ll see if I have any food for you.’

Having to gulp down warm milk was all worth it in the end for Ghost, after all, it wasn’t such a torture if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed.

[vael-fire]

Who is Rook?

We have no Keep to keep our memories this time my friends, so I made a thing. Use it as you will, take pieces, use parts, do the whole damn thing, whatever. Thanks to @mageofquandrix for the backup on this!

Leaving the spoilery part beneath the cut.

Who is Rook?

Name:

Pronouns:

Race:

Faction:

Class:

Specialization:

Before The Veilguard

Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they “grew up” if anything.

Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?

How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves? 

What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?

What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?

What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?

How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?

Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust?

Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?

Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)

Act 1: Signs and Portents

What was Rook’s status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?

What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varric’s choice to confront Solas alone?

Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?

How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?

What was Rook’s instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?

Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?

What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of D’Meta’s crossing? Why?

How did Rook react to Harding’s new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both? 

How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellara’s work disturbing or fascinating or something else?

How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?

How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?

What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?

Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?

How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldn’t save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?

Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?

What was Rook’s first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?

What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitor’s lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?

At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?

Act 2: The Price of the Past

How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?

Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?

Who were Rook’s closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?

How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanis’s animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?

When Elgar’nan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rook’s first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?

What was Rook’s reaction to The Butcher’s proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?

Did Rook express concerns about Illario’s behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rook’s impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?

Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?

Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?

What was Rook’s reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris  left behind? Did it change how they felt about Harding’s new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titan’s anger or to remember their compassionate side?

How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rook’s feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?

What did Rook think of Emmrich’s confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?

How did Taash’s journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their mother’s teachings about the Qun?

(If Rook didn’t romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

(If Rook didn’t romance Never or Lucanis:) How did Rook feel about Neve and Lucanis’s Romance? Did they encourage it?

(If Rook didn’t romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?

Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the gods’ ritual at the eclipse?

Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?

Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?

How did Rook deal with learning they’d been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????

Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?

Did Rook find all of Solas’s regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:

The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantry’s doctrine being false

Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form

Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals

Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form

The elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them

The blight being the Titan’s lost, angry dreams

Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythal’s current host

Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?

Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?

Act 3: The Wrath of Ages

Were all Rook’s allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgar’nan? Which ones weren’t, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone else’s?

Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?

Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?

Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?

Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgar’nan and why?

Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?

Did Morrigan give you Felassen’s Rune? How did Rook use it?

Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?

After defeating Elgar’nan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?

What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?

Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

[writingoddess1125]

My Darling Dove

König x Plus Size FemReader

Soooo Ive had this in my drafts for over a year (Peak Koniq era) and touched it up a bit- There was a part two if anyone wanted that since it has some serious NSFW, I Hope you guys enjoy?

Warnings: Fluff, Bullying, Violence (not on reader), some Angst/Body Insecurities, Start of spice (would be in pt 2)

Pt. 2 ->

Prequel->

Support me on Ko-Fi

Masterlist <-

His Liebling- Schatz- Perle, Maus.

He could think of a million names for you, but one would always beat the rest.

His wife.

Having met long ago when he was a fresh faced marine and you were a green medic. Both of you awkward and shy, yet fitting together like a puzzle piece. He loved you- and you loved him, more then words could ever hope to express.

He'd gotten home from deployment the evening before, excited to see you and spend some much needed quality time with his darling wife. Washing up as fast as possible, as he knew you hated him jumping in bed still smelling of old blood and sweat.

Rushing in fresh boxers that truthfully were barely on him since hed plan to take them off anyway, he'd caught you at the perfect time it seemed-

Seeing you getting dressed in your nightclothes, as he placed his hands on your waist almost salivating like an animal as his hands immediately went to try at the waistband-

However he saw the scramble of you pull on rather baggy pants, hiding the figure he loved so much- How your flash of almost panic at him seeing you, which threw him off incredibly.

"My Dove? Are you okay?" König whispered softly, noticing your apprehension and shyness much to his confusion.

"I'm fine love just.. maybe not tonight?- I don't feel too great" You said softly, König nodding and moving his hands away from your pants and carefully wrapping around your waist.

"Of course Maus"

König cuddled you that night, spooning you but he noticed immediately you seemed uncomforble and distant. Pulling at your shirt to cover your body more-

He didn't say anything about it, but he knew something was wrong- Very wrong.

Which lead him to his current state. Seated in his office on base thinking deeply- He hadn't even seen you this morning when you changed to go do your shift, normally getting quite some eyefulls of you before you left but not today. You'd gone as far to change in the bathroom before giving him his kiss goodbye.

Maybe it was the sexual frustration of not getting to sleep with you or his now general worry for you, however it was plaguing him and he couldn't focus...

His face twisted in a scowl under his hood as he tapped his fingers on his desk looking at the reports from his last assignment.

Standing up suddenly he walked out of his office, Files in hand as he walked straight to Horangi- Handing the man the files a bit harsher then intended.

Horangi looking to the man almost amused as he could practically smell the stress from the male.

"Problems in paradise I take it?"

König shot a glare- before rubbing his face under his mask with a heavy sigh. Horangi and a fairly decent portion of any higher ranking soldiers and staff knew you were his wife, seeing however wherever he went you went- It had been a fight with those higher then him, however it had been seen as a leash to keep their best in check-

A price König was willing to pay to keep you close.

"No.. She's is acting odd.. almost jumpy" He grumbled, Now the other soilder now seemingly surprised by this-

"I need to check on her- Do these" König said as he pointed to the files and marched out of the building, marching over to the medical quarters he knew you would be in.

Walking in he had seen it was rather busy, a fair amount of new recruits there paired with some frequent flyers. Nothing that didn't surprise him at least, his eyes scanning around silently as he turned the corner to find you.

"It's like watching a hippo-"

König paused mid step, Hearing the voice and slowly moving so he could glance from around said corner to hear who was saying this and at who- always being one to correct such childish behavior no matter what.

"Yeah but at least a hippo has better grace- (Y/N) is like the blob-" The young men cackled.

König was never so greatful for having silent footsteps before- his arms crossed over his vested chest as he watched two young Cadets gawk at you and cackle amongst themselves as they sat on their medical cots clearly just there to avoid duty- their gaze clearly only on you. He saw how you flinched ever so slightly at their words, clearly able to hear their squawking but choosing to continue working.

"Still big girls are desperate- So I bet she's easy if not a chubby little barracks bunny" one of the men cackled- König seeing your shoulders flinch at their words once more and turn away as your hands seemed to go over the medicine needing to be dished out. His body starting to shake as he stood there, rage filling his very soul.

"I'd have peel those pants off those thighs like trying to take a pillow out of a pillow case" They cackled, clearly other staff seeing this but seeing how these Cadets had been rising through their ranks fairly fast- it would be a surprise if they threatened some of the staff by the way the other medics and nurses seemed to avoid them.

"Bet her thighs are like silly putty" This made the two break out in childish giggles.

Konig was beet red at this point- listening to these two disrespect his wife who was trying to work. Knowing damn well you could hear every word these idiots were saying but trying to be polite and not cause a fuss or rock the boat- Most likely for his sake to keep him at his best behavior.

However that went out the window when he saw your cheeks red and bottom lip quiver like tears were about to fall as you march off to a separate room to hand out the medicine in hand.

König felt a hollowness run through him- seeing the way you practically sprinted away.

His kind sweet wife-

The women he cuddled at night, who treated his wounds and he cared for more then life itself-

The sweet woman who ran away almost in tears cause of two unimportant waste of air...

"You think so?"

König growled out, the two Cadets jumping up quickly at hearing his voice and saluting their superior.

"Colonel König-" The two young men squawked out wide eyed at the rage in their commanders eyes.

"So this is what two men on base do? Harass the medics?"

The men looked to each other, seeing a crazed and enraged look in their Colonels eye as he stepped towards them. His hands flexing like just craving to reach for the gun to his hip-

"Harrass MY Wife?-"

He all but snarled, his voice usually light and nasally now so low it rumbled their chest. The men's faces turning white as snow as their eyes widened, fear gripping their hearts. Before they could open their quivering lips to squeak out an apology the large man hands shoot out and grab them by their necks and squeeze- Pathetic squeals of pain leaving the men as they tried to try away from the giants hold and escape.

Every muscle in his arm seemed to flex as he pulled the two close to him to make sure he got to see the very light leave their eyes.

"You DARE sit here, insulting the light of my life? Dishonor her as she saves your miserable little lives.. I'm going to correct that now" He grits out as he squeezes tighter feeling the cracks under his hands and the feeling of their body struggle for air under his grasp.

You had only left the room from a moment when you heard those squeals- Rushing back to see your husband clearly about to kill the two men who had been bullying you as the other medics made sure to stand as far away as possible as König literally had the two lifted off the ground as they squirmed desperate for their lives.

"König!" You call out and rush to your husband, laying both hand on him to try and pry his hands off the two men from strangling them to death, but his calloused hands were like iron and in no way they where coming off from you pulling.

"Darling please-e you'll kill them!"

"...Even now- my Sweet Darling Perle here wishes for me to spare you. The one you wished to insult!" He yelled, you staring at him surprised by him raising his voice as his accent seemed to come even heavier.

You were surprised by how angry König was- especially openly. He was quite the reserved man and rarely truly got angry let alone enough to were he would burst like this- already seeing some other officers coming closer incase they had to take control.

"Kö?-" You ask softly, gently reaching up to have him look at you. Making his eyes meet yours as you used the gentle Nickname to ease him. His pale blue eyes now red with rage locking onto you making a trinkle of fear wash though only slightly.

"I need you to let them go, Please...Please" You begged softly, you already knew the two men would need serious medical attention after this as they where blue in the face and clearly moments from passing out from lack of oxygen as their movements slowed and began shaking.

...5 seconds passed

Then another ... 10 seconds passed

König closed his eyes finally and released the two men who collapsed to the ground like dolls, barely alive at this point. You signing in relief as two medics terrified grabbed the men to pull away to receive medical attention.

König however was still staring at you like he was looking you over silently and a feeling washed over you- Shame... You knew he saw it as well, as embarrassment of allowing yourself to be talked down to and your husband finding out in such a way, ate at you. König however grabbed your hand quickly and with as much gentleness as he could possibly muster as he lead you out of the office, no one would dare stop him anyways after the scene he just made.

He lead the two of you back to the base provided housing the two of you shared, He had been silent the whole walk there. It made your stomach do backflips as he lead you in first, you looking to him still waiting to hear something- Anything!

But instead he took off your medical clogs, and his own boots. Setting them to the side as he took your hand again and lead you upstairs. Tossing his sniper mask away somewhere along the way to your shared bedroom.

"...Kö?.." You say softly, But he doesn't stop. Instead walking both of you to the master bedroom and setting you on the bed. As he dug through the dresser, tossing things at random around as he seemed on a mission before your eyes.

"Felix?" You finally say, seeing how he stopped and looked back at you. Much to your surprise his eyes were soft, so very soft-

"Ja, mein Herz?" He said as softly as his gaze at you, reaching back in the drawer as he seemed to find exactly what he was looking for.

You open your mouth to speak- But unsure what to say. Shifting a bit uncomforbly as embarrassment still bubbled in your chest.

"I'm sorry.." You mumbled out, Unsure of what else to say. He closed his eyes, closing the drawer silently as he held the fabric in his hands calmly.

"Why are you apologizing?" He questioned softly, walking over to you as you looked down at your bare feet, seeing his shadow loom over you.

"Better question is why you let them insult you.. Why?" Your silence followed for a few seconds before it felt like a dam burst through you.

"I.. I.. I thought in some way.. they were right" You finally let the words fumble from your lips- Still not meeting your husband's gaze as tears began to roll down your cheeks trying to wipe them with the best of your abilties.

"It's hard.. It's so hard sometimes to act like they don't effect me- It's just I know I'm not tiny or- what people assume- I just, All the talks of you and supposed brothels-s and I-Im not the little fit girls who stare up at you- I thought I'd be used to it- I-I just feel like I- it was like they w-were the voice in the back of my head"

Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you sobbed- unsure of what pent up emotion brought this on, Maybe it was the late nights on missions- or the whispers of nurses talking about how a lot of soilder would go rush to brothels to get away from their wives- How they all had in some way a inkling of desire for your husband either for power, his size or even just because they thought they could.

It just had all had slammed into you at once as you cried sitting there on the bed, König staring down at you as you let it all out.

He down settling on his knees before you. Beginning to wipe your tears with his hands as you sniffled and tried to stop your tears. Caressing your flushes cheeks as he stared at you, only love in his eyes as he kissed your forehead softly.

"(Y/N), What silly silly thoughts you have my Darling Wife.. Thinking id run chasing crusty little skirts and fowl smelling panties when I have the prettiest wife on earth?" He said with a soft smile.

A smile went over your lips slowly as you sniffled and let a giggle leave you. "Dont be rude Felix" You manage out as you smile at your husband- He tsk dismissively.

"Its True Perle! You are the most darling women in the world, If you think I'd run in such petty things- Clearly I have not shown you how much he you mean to me"

He held your hands close, kissing them as he stared at you.

"You are and will always be the only women for me. I'll do anything for you- Ill never dishonor you. You are most precious to me" He said softly, watching the way your eyes shone as a smile crept over your lips. Much happier tears now in your eyes making him smile as he kissed your cheeks once more.

"Cry baby..." He said softly earning a giggle from you and the softest tap to his outer thigh with your foot. König leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, his hands unwrapping from your own as he held your cheek with one as another wrapped around your hip to pull you close.

You hadn't even noticed till you felt yourself being tilted back and your back hitting the back of the mattress. König pulling back from the kiss to properly move up towards you.

His massive form now shadowing you as he leaned over you.

"Felix?" You Squeak out as you looked up to your husband taking off the top of his uniform with a grin as he stared down at you like you were his last meal and he was a starved man- reaching his hands under your scrubs starting to slide them up feeling your soft skin underneath with a damn near giddy gleam.

"Now My Darling Dove, allow me to show truly how much I adore you and your body in every way~"

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Beach day with König

CW: 18+ only, protected p in v sex in a semi-public place, size kink, friends to lovers, possessive but slightly emotionally unavailable König

König wants to take you to the beach one day. He has water and some munch already packed, along with a bottle of sunscreen, and he's looking illegally hot there at your door with one of those rare smiles on his face.

You like to think he's reserved his smiles just for you, but the truth is you never know if König is flirting with you without knowing it, or if he's deliberately teasing you and making your heart ache. You can't get to the bottom of who this mysterious Austrian giant truly is, but you know he likes to spend time with you. That must count for something, right…?

You have to go to the same stall to change because there's a shortage of free changing rooms; it's the most beautiful day so of course everyone else is at the beach too.

You only need to grab your swimwear and towel, but you want to add your share to the beach picnic and so you quickly shove the last of the blueberry muffins you baked yesterday into a tupperware box. You almost melt on the spot when König says you have to feed them to him because his hands will soon be covered in sunscreen. Someone has to make sure you don't burn in the sun, oder nichts?

You've done all kinds of shit together but König has never seen you naked. You try to keep it cool – it's okay: you're both adults, it's no big deal. Friends can share the same changing room, and König has always been the perfect gentleman when it comes to these things.

It's just that you wouldn't mind if his eyes wandered a little... You know you wouldn't blame him for that, if he didn't blame you for taking a peek.

A little peek never hurt anyone, but you never knew what it would cost you. You never knew you'd end up against the stall wall with him inside you.

The reserved gentleman you used to know is completely gone. König tears the condom package open with his teeth and rolls the plastic protection on with no shame whatsoever. Trojan Magnum thin, you manage to catch as the torn package ends up somewhere on the floor of the changing room. You can't believe he came here prepared…

You wonder where his usual shyness went when he too cheated on his promise not to look when you change. You wonder where the polite, considerate man went when König presents himself to you, fully naked, uncut and huge.

You're barely able to nod when he bluntly asks if you want to fuck.

The shy, awkward recruit is nowhere to be seen as König raises you against the rough, unpainted boards and spreads your thighs. The sounds of strain and exertion mainly come from him sliding his cock into you, not from him having to carry your full weight.

You always thought your first time with König – if such a thing ever came – would be something more traditional, more romantic. You always thought it'd be a Netflix & chill kind of moment. This guy has taken you out to have a chaste little meal or to see some stupid movie, for weeks and weeks now. König has the most awful taste in films, but you've endured, just like you've endured his monologues about knives and sniping. König has offered you his huge sweater when you were cold, he's has entertained your need to read poems to him, just as bravely as you have entertained his silly ramblings about yet another Böker knife. You have done a million pranks to the other recruits together. Everyone at the barracks is sick of your stupid inside jokes, everyone says you two are the worst. The 'big goblin' and the 'small goblin', they call you apparently...

Close friends don't fuck like wild animals inside a changing room, you think while he rails you as controlled and muffled as he can – you fear what would happen to you, not to talk of the poor stall, if König was allowed to fuck you to his hearts and dicks content. You never knew the socially awkward but intense sniper candidate would take you to a beach and then ask if you want to fuck. On your worst days you've swallowed tears along with the shy question of would he ever want to be more than just friends.

The only time König ever touched you was when he allowed you to try his favourite rifle. The only time you ever kissed him was after your date nights, and even then it was just a quick peck on the cheek. You were never quite sure if you were just close friends with König.

You almost lose it when he grunts into your neck how he's wanted to do this for a long time. Wanted to fuck you, or fuck a woman against a changing room wall, you don't know, but you hold on to his sweaty neck as best as you can. You have to bite his shoulder to prevent loud, long-held cries from coming out. It only makes König more unhinged, though: you sinking your teeth in him like that.

Now he's infiltrating you with the passion of a man about to die if he doesn't get some pussy. Or like a dog, finally allowed to rut a female in heat. If you two were the only people here, he would probably sound like an animal, too. You know you would.

"When we... When we get back, I'll fuck you properly. Long, and hard. Hm?"

"Y–yes," you whisper on his skin – you don't know if you've ever been this flustered. You fear everyone on the beach will know what you've been doing just from how dumb you will look after this. The bite marks on König's shoulder are enough to tell people that your "close friend" is good at more than just shooting a gun.

When you cum, you sound like a widow sobbing at a funeral; when he cums, he sounds like he's dying from a stab wound. You both sound like two people trying to muffle their sorrow instead of trying to fuck their brains out.

And he won't let you down even when he's done with you. He won't let you down, not even as you squirm and whimper in his hold.

"You're mine now, right?" He pants into your ear while covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It's far from any kind of gentlemanly behavior, that low, possessive growl. Your eyes brim with tears – you like him too much when he's spontaneous and a bit crazy like this. You could fall in love with a man like König.

"I always was," you whisper, and he finally puts you down, content with everything you just gave him. You swear you just heard a soft, pleased rumble rising from that broad chest… But some part of that stoic, reserved soldier you know from the skills training and movie nights makes an appearance when you put your swimwear on. König is perfectly in control while you, in turn, are feeling awkward and completely flushed. At least there's no cum running down your thighs as you prepare for your day at the beach...

And who knew König would be so whiny? The condom you used is full as hell, and he has nowhere to put it because there's no trash can in the stall. He grunts as you try to hold in your laughter — he overall looks like he would prefer it if condoms disappeared from the face of the earth entirely so he could feel you without the plastic barrier in between. You giggle when you watch him smuggle it into the nearest trash after wrapping it inside a paper towel.

You spend the rest of the day at the beach, looking like you're the first people who have just discovered love and the fine art of fucking. He can't take his eyes off you, and you can't take his eyes off him. You play in the water, not as friends, but as lovers. Some elderly lady comes to scold you and says there are children here at the beach. You have your legs wrapped around König underwater, and your arms around his neck above: there's nothing lewd going on. But König grows red, all the way from the neck up. That's when you know he has probably never taken a woman in a public place; sometimes you wonder if he has ever taken a woman at all. The big Austrian sniper-to-be remains a mystery as he brings you some ice cream like the gentleman he is, then licks it off from your fingers like a starved dog. He's hot and cold, and confident and shy, feral and distant all in one day.

"You're mine now... All mine."

He "fucks you properly" when you get back, making your whole apartment smell of sex and desperation. And he says it again... That you belong to him. He says it with a shattered, hungry stare, both fragile and frightening.

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[saltyyuuri]

Just released a beginning of fic on Wattpad (@saltyyuuri ; 🪷Druid🪷 Iso x reader) , if y'all like it I'll continue it, just not sure if it's aight

In the meantime; here's a "what if":

What if: You told them "We're having a baby!"

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Brimstone: "Really?! I'm so happy, love!"

Would re-arrange his schedule to spend time to help. Would make sure to get the best for you and the baby, no matter what

Phoenix; "Oh shit- Like for real for real?"

Would probably be nervous at first- then be chill and brag about it. But when the day comes- he's even more stressed than you.

Sage: "A child?"

She is confused - until you bring back a baby plant. She treasures the plant.

Sova: "You're pregnant??🥹🥹"

Absolute golden retriever moment- he is ecstatic. Except you aren't pregnant - you brought back a baby owl. He was even happier.

Viper: "That's a covid test. Now stay away."

It was in fact a covid test. Sorry.

Cypher: "Ah! A new chess buddy on the way :)"

Is chill about it, takes care of your needs. But he will teach the kid chess- the guy just wants a chess student.

Reyna: "another one?💀"

She thought you were talking about a new recruit. She would jokingly call them babies since they didn't know the ropes. Until you brought her a kitten :)

Killjoy: "how is that even possible?"

She immediately went to find you. You showed her the robot design you made. You meant it as a 'baby project'/ a creation made from the two of you.

Breach: "You know my entire bloodline is felons? Like this kid is going to be a felon."

Good luck with that.

Omen: "pardon?"

A kitten. You got him a kitten. You made the poor guy stress knit a tiny sweater- which he fixed so it would fit the kitten.

Jett: "Nah-🧑‍🦯"

Had to show her the tests. And re do some.

Raze: "What??!! Wait so am I like- the mom or-??"

She ended up spending an hour trying to figure out if she would be a mom or like a stand-in dad. That was until you brought her the keys to a Chevrolet Chevelle (like the car in the player card with Raze and breach)

Skye: "What do you mean-"

You actually meant you carved a wood sculpture of an animal for her to bring to life with her radiant powers.

Yoru: "Not mine."

Ghosted you.

Astra: "I know! I could feel it in your aura 💜"

Is genuinely happy about it, keeps you chill through the whole process

Kay/o: "I think you have the wrong person."

... Seriously though, it's a robot.

Chamber: "Oh la la... Je vais chercher du lait, Chérie."

You didn't understand his French, so you nod and smile.

Neon: "what?? But I'm baby 😭!!"

You sent her a pic of a pink rabbit plushie saying that was the baby. She agreed - it was now the baby.

Fade: "Oh shit... I'm not ready to be a mom-"

You reassured her by sending a picture of the cat you rescued, a black cat that looked way too energetic. She immediately said yes- it's name is Nightmare. So whenever she says "Nightmare, take them!", the kitty just jumps on whoever's closest. Yes, it was trained to do that.

Harbor: "Wait- but I pulled out?''

You had to explain to him that it can still happen - just like that very uncomfortable science class you had in high school. But once it's all cleared up, he gets into dad mode pretty fast.

Gekko: "Oh boy- we already have 4 kids here!! 😭"

His critters are his kids. And honestly he's a great critter dad. That's why you got a pet gecko - to add yet another baby critter to the family.

Deadlock: "Oh- Alright."

She is already looking into parenthood prep classes.

Iso: "Is it a 'congrats' or 'Im sorry' pregnancy -"

He didn't fully process what you said, and just instinctively kicked in with the logical question instead of reacting emotionally-

Took him a few seconds but went well!

Clove: "Uhhhh.. how?"

You swung by their dorm and gave them a jar with a growing salt crystal- the crystal was growing slowly on a string :) they check it's progress every day

Vyse: "... Honey, that's not biologically possible . Plus, I bent you over with a strap-"

She proceeded to explain basic biology and how it wasn't possible especially considering she bent you, to which you replied with a picture of a rose bush sprout. She simply responded with "Oh. Cute 💜". And she takes care of the rose plant, going as far as researching the best way to tend to it.

[dianagj-art]

Am over here biting each art you post, each info you post about One or onion as if it's 5★ dish BECAUSE IT IS THAT TASTY 🩷🩷🩷

Few questions (remember if you don't feel comfortable about or don't want because of spoilers feel free to ignore):

- What causes you to have the genius idea of putting an animation in few panels of the comic? Like did you thought of it? Did somebody/friend suggested it?

- name one friend/ROTTMNT AU you don't mind to have their character/OC in your comic even as a background character?

- What causes One to change his mind about the mad dogs and decided to join their family?

- If you have a plot about making a new episode of ROTTMNT that involves One (and maybe somebody else; could be one of the brothers or splinter or anybody you want) what the plot's gonna be about?

- if onion (i keep calling F!One that, the disrespect is unimaginable am sorry 🥲) followed the movie plot would he end up ashes like canon F!Leo or will he make it back alive with casey JR?

- how's One's bond with Cassandra?

- how does One feel about Draxum demoting from an alchemist to a lunch lady? (LBH this's funny job for him).

- do you plan on putting an episode about One & Draxum AFTER their redemption? Like will they forgive and (probably not) forget?

- Name or draw one outfit you would love for One or draxum to wear as their casual clothes.

- any cute, funny or wholesome HCs about One after his redemption arc?

That's all for now! Again thank you if you answered my questions but if not then it's all good👍

Have a great week and take care of yourself 🩷

1)Oh, I just answered something about this here, but the short version is: I've wanted to do a mix of animation and comics for a long time (a zelda comic was my first inspiration for this) When I started this au it was gonna be an animatic so when I changed that to comic form, I still had a few things that I really wanted to have animated

2 )I'm not gonna @ them to not bother them, but I think I'm gonna end up having the sep council on the bg at some point lmao, this ask is from october and the reason I have been holding it back from answering is cause I kind of already did with the wall of champions on the last update!

3) for spoilers reasons I wont get too deep into this one, but while there IS a defining moment of him taking a choice, is not that what matters, what matters the most is the journey, after all, is the time he has spend with his brothers up to that point is what makes him flip sides

4)I do have a few episodes planned like that! right now I'm following the episodes that already exist cause is fun to see them change with the au, but I also have some that are things I made up! One I'm excited about is with Raph and One having some solo time on the Hidden City

5) "the disrespect" LMAO my brain refused to call him Oneion too at first, but is just easier with all the leos of the crossovers. He's not gonna go back with Casey Jr, sorry, his fate is not set in stone yet but I do know he's not gonna end up in ashes. I'm not gonna explain more than that lol

6) this has been asked a lot so I'm just gonna throw these here too @damonagel04-blog

One and Cass end up having a weird little friendship, based on mutual respect. After teaming up with the Foot Clan for canon plot reasons, One fights all the foot recruits as a training/demostration kid of thing and the only one who can stand their ground against him is her, and of course he finds her fun to fight, cause he can actually have a fight with her. After that they go on missions together, cause they force One to be with a team and he doesn't do teams but agrees if she goes, because she is actually a good fighter and competent enough to carry out the mission

Also, I have the headcanon that they can't use their real names on the Foot Clan, that's why they call her Recruit. you just give out your name if you actually trust the other person, but given the fact that everyone serious on the foot clan is a shady ninja and the other part of the foot are random people, she had never actually given her name to anyone. After a few missions together, Cass decides she can actually trust One with her name

They do end up being friends, tho One would never call it that, at least not pre-redemption

7) One doesn't really think much of it, he knows Draxum likes to cook, he has cooked for him his whole life, so he ending up with a cooking job on the surface is not so weird, and he knows Draxum has to lay low so it makes sence for him to be on such a crappy place. Plus One's gonna have another things in mind to worry about, he wouldn't have brains to judge that.

8) Oh I have so many things planned for their journey post redemption, but those are spoilers, they will eventually end up in a better place

9) I do have some doodles of one on casual clothes (1) (2), Draxum I honeslty have no idea

10) I'm gonna give you one thing with each of the hamatos:

Mikey teaches One to cook, he learn the hard way that you have to give One very specific instructions on what to do or he'll fuck up

One likes spending time on Donnie's lab, just lounging while Donnie works (is familiar to him), Donnie has a beanbag where he goes to nap sometimes while pulling consecutive allnighters, One ends up claiming that spot for himself

Raph helps One work through his anger issues, having experience working on his own, he's also the one One opens up the most

Splinter overhears One saying he used to wear a robe when being at his home and gets him a few. One ends up getting suck into watching telenovelas with Splinter

One likes putting on face masks with April, they end up having full "spa days" at April's at least once a month

and that's it! thanks for the ask!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Favourite Place (Aside From Your Side)

König grew up in a small, rural Austrian village. It intersected with a large, rolling forest that spread for miles. As a little boy, he'd spend his time walking along trails, following his Mama and Papa and his three older siblings through the woods. Later, when he was a teen and he couldn't stand the world, he went hiking on his own.

He found solace in the pines. The great oaks were family to him. Moss and ferns became his pillows when he rested. He would find delicate wildflowers and take pictures with his Papa's old camera and develop them at a local shop, then proudly show his siblings. His favourite spots were the places where the forest gave way to a clearing, and he could look up and see the clouds gently wafting by in the sky. Nature is what keeps him human.

More below the cut:

In the forest, you can expect what threats you'll come across. He'll never forget the day he encountered a mother bear and her cub. He won't lie to you, he pissed himself a little bit, but he thanks the heavens he's alive today. But, if you keep your distance and watch, nature is welcoming. It's beautiful, and it won't hurt you the way humans do. It will test you, it will change you and it will tear you apart, but it will put you back together again afterwards. Nature is a beautiful beast to be respected. König will always firmly believe that animals are better than humans.

With his older brother Friedriech, they'd go hunting with their uncle and Opa. They taught him to hunt carefully, treat the woods with respect. Every animal you catch is a gift from nature to be revered. They were careful to try to not kill mothers or babies, as they were the future of the forest. When they did get a good catch, he learned to use every part of the animals he caught.

Being so in tune with nature, König became a natural survivalist. He's made his own shelters out of nothing but scraps before. He can build a nice hut with sticks, grass and leaves. He can survive out there easily, even in the cold. It's harder in the cold, yes, but he can endure it. His affinity for nature and survivalist training is part of what made König a natural Jagkommando. Others in the program learned to get close to him, and it's through this that König made his very first friends. If you treat nature well, it will reward you handsomely.

Nature is home for König in a way that no human settlement can replicate. There is no greater comfort than the songs of chaffinches and wood pigeons. He'll tell you that wood pigeons sound like they're always complaining. My toe hurts, Betty. My toe hurts, Betty! That's what he'll tell you they sound like if you ever ask him what bird is calling. Heck, he can list off all the most common birds around his little village. He'll tell you how he would raise abandoned nestlings with his Mama in shoe boxes before letting them go back to the wild.

If you let him, he'll turn over stones (only briefly) to show you the world underneath the forest floor. Under the leaves and brushes, there is an entire ecosystem in the soil. Just take a look! There's an alpine salamander. Don't touch it, just leave it be. The oils on your hand will clog the airways on his skin. And do you see the little isopods? Look at how silly they are as they scurry away! Best put this rock back and let these under dwellers return to the dark.

When he goes travelling with his company, he'll grab local guide books for birds and animals. He'll tell you he needs to know how to survive if he gets stranded out here, but really, he just likes learning about all the wildlife.

His favourite vacation destination is to just go camping. He already has all the gear, so you might as well tag along. Two heads are better than one, after all. You'll come with him, won't you? It won't be easy, but you'll see a new side to him.

He'll teach you, of course. However, he won't teach you like you're a new recruit or some battle-hardened soldier, he'll teach you like he was taught, back when he was a boy. He'll praise you with laughter and shower you with adoration when you succeed in starting a fire, he'll gently encourage you when you fail to gather enough sticks for a shelter. König will be there for you every step of the way, guiding you with love and affection laced in every word and action he makes. But, on the off-chance you're better than him, he'll love you for it.

If you need a break, he'll happily take over. Please don't feel upset when he can do things better than you can ever hope to, he was raised this way. He won't ever look down on you. Instead, he'll take the time to encourage you. If he needs a break too, he'll happily join you, but not before taking a shower in his rudimentary shower system. Being clean is extremely important in survival situations, actually, little known fact.

You might find you like camping with him. If you don't, he'll be sad, but he won't force you to join him. But please, you have to understand that he needs this to be himself. He needs to be out in nature. He'll go alone if he has to, but please don't take this away from him. He needs this to be there for you. He needs this to work. Without nature, König is a broken man.

[rhodes-knightwife]

Alright, seems the vote is pretty settled, so let's talk about a hypothetical Arknights Versus! Or y'know, AKVS for short.

I'll have a lot of yapping about mechanics and stuff below the cut, but we all know the first thing everyone really wants to know about any fighting game is the roster. So allow me to present to you two hours of my life I won't be getting back!

We'll be going with 26 characters for this; a bit overambitious, maybe, in an era where fighting games hover closer to 16 characters at launch, but we're allowed to dream a little big~ Plus, this makes for two full squads of operators and a couple bonus characters!

As you can see by my mockup, my focus when picking characters was representing as many factions and different storylines as I could; realistically, I think we'd get at least twice as much representation of the core RI cast, but sacrifices must be made one way or another! Besides that, I favored story relevance, playstyle and, when all else failed, trying to have at least a little rep for every in-game class of operator. You'll also note that aside from our guests in the middle there, everyone here is a recruitable unit in the gacha.

Now, if that's not enough nerding out for you, follow me past the cut! Otherwise, keep your eyes peeled for the first character reveal soon~ Though really, there's no points for guessing here...

Okay, so, mechanics! We're looking at a six... ish button game here. We've got Light-Medium-Heavy as well as a 'special action' button in the style of BlazBlue or Injustice, because I'm just a sucker for character mechanics. You also have the ability to dash, though the specifics of dashes/running, as well as air dashing and double jumping all come down to individual characters. We're leaning more on anime fighters than truly traditional things like Street Fighter, but we're still somewhere in the middle.

The last two buttons come in the form of... assists! This isn't a tag fighter, but it would include a list of assist characters separate from the main cast, representing all the side characters and less-offensive operators we can fit in. I'll be including one "related" assist for every character, but you won't be forced to pick them as one of your two assists – it's just a way to have more representation and guidance.

Assists will also have redeployment times, to borrow a little bit of mechanics from the gacha! It varies by assist, and it's independent for each of the two you have, but it doesn't cost any resource to bring them out. The resource you do have is a simple meter system, which builds by taking and dealing hits – a little more by taking, as a catch-up mechanic. It caps out at three bars.

Your meter can be used to augment your specials by spending one bar, which makes them faster/hit harder/have unique properties; it can also be used for a Burst maneuver, which takes two bars of meter but gets you out of any combos you're stuck in. Finally, you can spend all three bars of meter for a devastating Super attack!

Keep in mind that some characters will have additional mechanics that may come with their own resources, too, so watch out!

[choccy-zefirka]

Promised to the Chantry in infancy, as any third-born child of an Orlesian family with the tiniest sliver of self-respect, Roderick Asignon first trained as a Templar. For a few very brief, very tearful years.

A small, pudgy, frightened thing, he’d spend the longest puzzling out the right grip on his practice weapon — let alone a real blade, which he only got to hold twice, before dropping it with a disastrous clamor. He was always first to get winded, and lose the steady, flawless rhythm of practice exercises. And he never learned to keep his mouth shut when he'd notice a discrepancy between the meager gruel servings that would get tossed on the youngest recruits' plates — while the big, burly adolescents and the officers piled their plates high with meat and fresh garnish — and the official mess hall provisioning protocol… Which, yes, he had obtained and read. After all, one had to drown out the voice of homesickness somehow, during the long, freezing nights.

None of that earned him any favors from the Knight Captains. Especially his little investigation into ration hoarding. So off he was sent to the clergy. To become an acolyte, a Brother, a Chancellor, and eventually, the High Chancellor. The administrator behind the Sunburst Throne.

A most favorable turn of events, in all; a lot to thank the Maker for. He does not regret his youthful failure to become a knight... Most of the time.

There are moments when a certain hissing, biting part of him, a little stray animal puffing up to appear bigger and more menacing, wishes that he had completed his training. That he had broken and reshaped himself to fit into armor — somehow. Maybe by fasting more. Maybe by getting up at three in the morning instead of the customary five, to run laps around the moonlit barracks, and strain and groan in the practice yard until the metal bars burned through his skin, and a tang of copper bubbled up at the back of his throat.

If he'd done that, if he'd risen through different ranks — surely, at his age, he'd have been Knight Commander by now... Then perhaps, he would have gotten some of them, any of them, to listen. To wait. To stop this foolishness, and follow the will of the new Divine. As they should. As is their duty. As is required by protocol; by all the regulations he knows and swears by.

Perhaps, with the authority of steel, he could have swayed them away from heresy. If not the Hands, then young Rutherford at least.

But he has no steel to measure against the younger man's. All he has is his voice. He sounds comical at this point, he fears: shrill and hoarse, from trying to hammer home the same protestations, again and again... Only to be swatted away like a bothersome gnat.

"Back again, Chancellor," Rutherford half-speaks, half-sighs. "Haven't you done enough?"

His tone is flat, tired. His fingers press into his temples, casting an even deeper shadow than what's already clouding his eyes, bruised and reddened from lack of sleep.

Roderick is not without empathy. He understands what Rutherford must be going through. Maker's breath, he just saw him peel the hands of a nigh frothing-at-the-mouth Templar and a twitchy, indignant Enchanter off each other's throats! But that is precisely why they need the oversight of the Chantry! The guidance of those imbued with the Maker's wisdom! Surely, the new Divine will instruct them how to quell all this unrest! As per protocol! As per regulation! As per commandment!

He tries his best to draw himself to his full height — which has not gotten any less... modest under the weight of his years.

Surrounded by worn-down, mud-splattered mage and Templar survivors in their mishmash of battered gear, he sticks out like a sore thumb. He's been trying, with a determination verging on delirium, to keep his red and white robes washed and starched to crisp perfection. All on his own, too, given the dearth of servants around the so-called "Inquisition's" campsite.

And he will gladly keep doing so, till bloody cracks run across his knuckles, like during his acolyte days, when he'd scrub the Chantry floors as punishment for pointing out that the levied tithes did not match the books. Cleanliness is the one thing he yet has control over. So stick out he shall! A tiny white splinter in a sea of brown and grey.

"I am curious, Commander," he says sharply, inhaling a long, labored breath through his nose. "As to how your Inquisition and its Herald will restore order. As you've promised."

Herald. Herald.

While Rutherford lingers with his answer, Roderick seethes.

Herald!

The word has singed the roof of his mouth like a retched-out splash of bile.

This is the worst part of the entire debacle, isn't it?

It is bad enough that the Hands of the Divine and their pet general have suddenly decided to cede from the Chantry, citing a degree from the Most Holy… which cannot be verified — because she is dead! Dead! Gone! Lost to all their faithful! Swallowed by malign, unholy flames amid the molten remains of the once wondrous Temple — along with the rest of the clergy. Leaving behind naught but the High Chancellor; a lone man whose best efforts are evidently lacking.

It is bad enough that they are rebuilding the Inquisition, completely unauthorized!

But they are also rallying good, Maker-fearing folk around this... this false prophet they dug out of the dirt somewhere!

For Andraste's sake, she is not even of the faith! She is an Avvar! A heathen witch who never knew the shelter of a Circle's walls, never gazed upon the sublime marble likenesses of the Maker's Bride!

She still reveres the very gods that remained silent when Andraste sang to the sky; vestiges of a dark, unenlightened time. She speaks with such pride — nay, hubris, bordering on sheer insanity — about her "training" as a mage... To think, her kin let a spirit possess her!

Even assuming the Breach was not the result of her dark pagan rituals — what if that Mark of hers is yet another manifestation of her gradual descent into corruption? Another sign that she is an abomination in the making?

And yet all these lost, frightened refugees are ready to worship her for it.

And she... She has the audacity to look like someone carefully crafted by the hands of the Maker Himself, and placed on this mortal coil to be worshipped.

She is so tall.

Strong — both in presence and in stature. For the fur wrappings around her broad hips and even broader shoulders, and the blue and white splashes of war paint everywhere else, leave little to the imagination.

Roderick takes care to avert his eyes... most of the time... But even what little he has seen of her back and leg muscles, all coated in cracking white, makes it clear: she herself could well be a marble statue. She could be sublime.

And then there's her face — which is the thing Roderick tries his utmost to focus on. Out of propriety, of course.

Ah, her face.

The high cheekbones, framed by copper curls, which burn like flames around Her on the pyre when the setting sun strikes them from the back.

The vivid eyes, curiously mismatched. One warm hazel, one pale bluish-grey, like the morning sky, with a spill of soft dawn pink and gold around the pupil. Her "spirit-grace", the witch proudly calls it; a reminder of her possession that, quite frankly, should disturb Roderick and other righteous Andrastians far more than it does.

The serene, seemingly sincere smile that always rests on her full lips — a far cry from the manic leer one would expect from a scheming heretic... But it could be a ruse; it could —

On we waded through rustling green-sea,

On we were guided by coiling scream-thread.

Amid the pastures, the earth's flesh blistered,

And molten claws rent skin from bone.

We charged ahead, to shield the fearful,

To stitch their wounds, to calm red weeping.

Our blades dove deep through the liquid fire,

And stilled the heart of Rage's children.

And then I stood, three times threefold,

Upon the hills and under branch-domes,

I spun the thread of flame and spirit,

And stitched more wounds, this time the Lady's.

And now quiet rolls blue and misty

Upon the hills and under branch domes,

And back to their homesteads return the fearful,

To where demons reap no more harvest

Of coiling screams and weeping rupture.

Roderick does not need to turn his head to recognize whose shadow has just fallen onto the snow, intersecting with his; or whose voice flows from a great height behind him, each sentence a crushing, rhythmic wave.

His heart races. With... With anger, of course. With Maker-blessed wrath.

The Avvar witch has a habit of delivering her field reports in verse — with the same profound seriousness that a law-abiding Andrastian should maintain while reciting the Chant. Which... Which should be insulting, of course! If not outright criminal! Not — not beautiful, certainly. Not moving, in the slightest, to a righteous heart that only seeks inspiration in the Chant.

The outrageous little recital is followed by a short burst of embarrassed laughter.

"Apologies, Commander," says the witch, in her thickly accented voice. Why does Roderick envision it as a long drink of heady, sparkling mead? Do... Do her kind even drink mead? Did he read about that somewhere? Is he —

"The habits of a skald cling to me like second skin. I was taught that any deed worth relating to others, is to be related as a lay."

Rutherford clears his throat.

"Your point is well-understood, Herald. Thank you for taking care of those Rifts in the Hinterlands. Perhaps now the clerics will finally listen to us."

The witch nods eagerly. Her face lights up with a sincere determination. A desire to... help?

"I shall make haste with the righteous shield-maiden, the clever dwarf-skald, and the wise spirit-shepherd to your city of spires, and speak to your priestesses of the horrors bred by the agony of my Lady of the Skies. May they listen."

Rutherford sighs again.

"May they listen indeed."

Finally, Roderick remembers that he is standing with both feet firm on the ground, and decides it is high time to scoff. As befits a man of his status and conviction.

"The clerics know what is best for their flock. And Andraste shall be their guide, not some... dazed wanderer on the mountainside!"

The witch laughs again — sounding both surprised and amused.

"Is that what you think of me, Quill-Heart?"

Roderick starts. The nickname is... unexpected, and likely heretical in nature, but she has imbued it with such... such warmth, that he can only manage a mild grumble in response.

"Well, you clearly think of me as... that."

Her forehead furrows. Her eyebrows are so pale that they seem almost invisible, yet this does not make her face any less expressive.

"I meant no offense, esteemed priest. I merely thought of your essence as an ink-dipped quill, for you always seem to be writing missives in your lowland script... Like little birds frozen on the page-sky, for your own augurs to read."

Rutherford snorts.

"Letters of complaint about us, most likely."

Roderick purses his lips and does not grace him with a response.

Meanwhile, the witch continues, stepping closer to Roderick and making an odd motion, as if she wants to grasp his hand. She is... wont to do so. Easygoing and generous with her touch, always wrapping her arms around other people's shoulders; smothering them in embraces that would lift anyone, save perhaps for Seeker Cassandra, off the ground.

Heretic she may be, but at times, Roderick envies the effortlessness with which she builds her bonds with her comrades. While he is on the outside, looking in.

"Yet quills, in your tongue, are also spikes on the back of certain animals that bristle, sharp as arrow points, when they are frightened," the witch tells him, eyes huge and deep.

"You are frightened too, Quill-Heart... Of the change that followed the deaths of those so dear to you; of the chaos-beast that eats more and more of your order with each day... Of me."

A crack snakes under her voice's surface. Like one of those blue shadows Roderick watched on the frozen lake. A most frivolous pastime; he thought he'd grown out of those whims when he decided to take some Maker-forsaken, overgrown path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes on a pilgrimage. It took him forever to pry the burrs off his robe!

"I am so sorry, " the witch tells him, even as Rutherford rolls his eyes.

"At least of me, you needn't be afraid. My mentor was right when he sent me here: the gods gave him a premonition that a great evil is about to poison the lowlands, and the people there may need help, lest the corruption spread to our own hold. And so help I shall provide."

Roderick is so busy mulling over the best retort — something about the servant of heathen gods having no right to presume what good Andrastians may or may not need — that he fails to notice that she did take his hand. Squeeze it, even. Her grip is firm, yet unthreatening; her skin is warm; and her touch is... is so much more than what his bare flesh has been graced with for the past two decades. If not longer.

And that is when he is lost.

He cannot be saved even by yanking his hand back, as if stung by a serpent, or by tumbling off into the barren little nook he's turned into his quarters, under the hasty excuse of "having more letters to write".

He cannot be saved.

The heathen influence has already set in.

From then on, even as his mouth continues denouncing the Avvar witch, his eyes follow her, transfixed, whenever she returns to Haven with new lay-reports: of more souls saved, of more Rifts mended, of more clerics swayed to her side... And of the "pallid slime shifting, soul-hollow leering" that she allegedly sensed in Lord Seeker Lucius, when he had the utter gall to strike at the righteous Mother Hevarra, and declare a schism of his own.

That slime nonsense was likely the hallucination of a demon-touched apostate; but Seeker Cassandra thinks it bears investigating... And the witch has volunteered. Of course. She always volunteers to "soothe any lowlander plight"... Including Roderick's own plight of not getting enough fresh air — or, in the blasphemous Avvar words, "not drinking of the Lady's draught of vigor".

He shouldn't have allowed her to drag him on a stroll down to the lake pier. Shouldn't have let his guard down and slipped into a decidedly non-hostile talk with her... About what kinds of books he likes, of all things!

Apparently, literacy is rare among her people, but those who "require ink-deciphering to do their duty to the hold", do learn to read and write — herself included. As she crunched her unhurried way through the snow, making sure Roderick could keep up with the giant strides of her long, muscular legs, the witch waxed poetic in great detail about all the tomes her hold would acquire from Orlesian traders. And about her talk with her mentor, the "shaman" (woe, what an uncouth word), who’d noticed that she preferred chivalric romances over arcane texts, and deemed her more fit to become a skald than a magical advisor to her clan's leaders.

He shouldn't have listened. Shouldn't have cared! Shouldn't have admitted, driven by some base, un-Andrastian impulse, that he used to indulge in an occasional, uh, extremely secular novel when he was younger. To which she laughed, delighted, and the sound, of course, went to his head like mead.

She left to prepare for talks with the Lord Seeker shortly afterwards... And Roderick found nothing better to do than... than to miss her.

He has started tracking his calendar more fastidiously than he ever thought he himself capable of. How many days to Therinfal Redoubt, in this weather; how many days for negotiations — Madame Vivienne is among the mediators, so surely it will not be long — and how many days back? Sooner or later, the ripples of little lines and circles and crosses on paper — the Avvar would compare them to a flock of birds — make him so dizzy that, when he steps outside, for that "draught of vigor", he imagines her silhouette in every shadow on every snowdrift. He looks around, almost forgetting to put on his usual disgruntled air... Only to twist his face in a genuine scowl, when he realizes it was just an Inquisition scout in a fur cloak.

How mortifying.

One touch was all it took. One touch, a few pointless conversations, and so, so many covert glances... At far more than just her beaming face.

The snare has been cast, and Roderick has flung himself right into it. Only pretending to be unwilling.

And now, he is not preoccupied with wrestling against the Seeker and the Spymaster — with less and less conviction each time, to his own utter shame — his thoughts turn to his calendar. To the Avvar witch.

To... to the Herald. To Idunn.

Her name is Idunn. Idunn of the flaming hair, of the spirit-touched eyes, of the entrancing, intoxicating honeyed voice.

Idunn, oh Idunn. Has there ever been a name more perfectly suited for gasping through grating teeth, among breathless moans, in the middle of the night... Of many nights. They are still long, still freezing, like in those Templar barracks a precipice across from him — but now that the lonely little boy has grown into a much, much lonelier old man, they are also tainted by unspeakable sin.

The Maker will forgive the witch for her heathen ways: she was raised outside a Circle, she knew no other life. And yet, untouched as she is by His grace, she still strives to do good. She charges bravely into danger, and returns with tales of glory, of "hope-lights rekindled, golden, soaring", and "no more tar of evil bubbling black within the Lady's rotting wounds". She is brave, and generous, and kind. Some who bask in the glow of the Sunburst Throne, and yet only pay lip service to the Chant, have never even heard of such virtues.

But what forgiveness can the Maker have for His sworn servant who has lapsed in duty? Who has forgotten that his every waking moment should be dedicated to enacting the Divine's will — or, as it were, assisting with her proper replacement... Where are the regulations now, where is the protocol?

Where is the lauded Andrastian dignity, the authority of High Chancellor Roderick Asignon? Where does it all vanish, when he lies in bed, sleepless, delirious with his twisted want?

Where is the man he was once proud to be, when his pristine robes are crumpled on the floor into a lump of thawing snow, and his underclothes are askew... And his hand — meant only to wield the quill, as instructed by the Most Holy — fondles his throbbing animal flesh?

Here, too, he has no steel to measure against a younger man's. And what a rightful punishment it would be for him, to remain pitifully soft, whimpering his secret desires into his own sweaty palm. But sometimes, more and more often the deeper he sinks into this abject filth, the dizzying swirl of images before his unblinking, unseeing eyes — Idunn, Idunn, Idunn, her smile, her curls, her marble perfection — is enough to stir his blood into an excitement that a man of the cloth should not, must not feel... And he strokes along his erect shaft, and claps his hand harder against his mouth, to muffle the rasps of pleasure; those horrifying, primal noises in a voice he does not recognize as his.

And no amount of prayers, no amount of groveling pleas for forgiveness, will now wash him clean.

He has lost the right to have his voice heard.

[wttcsms]

wttcsms wags blind bag, one shot collection ;

about poking fun at blind items & wanting to explore wag culture (and also looking for any reason to write about hot anime athletes), this fic collection's theme is inspired by/based off of... well, blind items about wags!

you're what i wanna love on, shugo meian

at the height of peak stardom, you're not just japan's pop princess — you're everyone's. with it comes controversy; your infamously short dresses, the late night parties you attend after every concert, your outrageously expensive concert tickets and merch, your racy performances that have concerned mothers going on social media saying you're a bad influence. adding to your list of typical pop star transgressions, you also have a hot, successful, wildly successful and just barely controversially older boyfriend!

but it would've been fun (if you could've been the one), tooru oikawa

from high school rivals to long-distance college sweethearts to perhaps the couple that got eloped way too early, it's no surprise that you and oikawa end up divorcing soon after getting married. while in your case it seems like love might be a losing game, you and oikawa both only play to win. when the olympics brings you two together once more, there's a good chance you two can reconcile and get your relationship back and better than it was before — or, go down with this sinking ship. with either outcome, at least you two are doing it together.

something to lose, shoyo hinata

heartbroken, jaded, and convinced that all men are garbage, you don't plan on anything happening when you're invited to an after party for a profession volleyball team in order to boost said team's publicity. you don't plan on making any friends or meaningful connections, and you certainly don't plan on getting the number of one of their star player's, shoyo hinata. then again, a lot of things don't go as planned when he's involved, and you don't expect yourself to be happy about these turns of event, but for once you are; happy, that is. and it's all his fault.

easy like sunday morning, wakatoshi ushijima

wakatoshi ushijima is notorious for his devotion to two things: volleyball and his family. during his post-game interview where he's been away from home for nearly two months, interviewers are asking him if he's excited to attend the rowdy after party to celebrate. ushijima's answer? he's taking a flight directly after this interview to head back home. he plans on celebrating the only way he knows how to: by finally being able to tuck in his sweet kids to bed, and then show his beloved wife how much he's missed her.

it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender, koutarou bokuto

before he gets scouted by the msby black jackals and becomes one of japan's most famous athletes of all time, he's a struggling athlete trying his hardest to get a contract. during the off-season for recruiting, he decides to make some extra cash by using his looks and charms to become a contestant on a reality dating show, where he meets you: beautiful, intelligent, ambitious you, who is so clearly out of the league for anyone. you adore him, and you two have the strongest connection out of everyone on the show, so when he ends up picking someone who's not you, you're shocked. you don't know that he thinks he's doing you a favor because he believes he'll only ever hold you back. when the show invites you two for a reunion episode special, bokuto can only hope your feelings haven't changed.

burn out season, michael kaiser

what do you do when suffer a potential career-ending injury? hopefully not get diagnosed with depression, find out that because you devoted your whole life to your sport, you now have no sense of what to do without it, and then realize the only person who really Gets You is the only person who can irritate you like no one else does. hopefully you don't start to spend your newfound free time with him, and hopefully, you don't start to experience all the fun firsts in your life because of him and with him. or, maybe hopefully you do.

life could be a dream, yoichi isagi

getting together was no easy feat, and yoichi wants to show you how happy he is that you're his. he showers you with presents, shows you off at any given chance, always has a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. his possessive streak only grows when he finally slips that expensive engagement ring on your finger, and he shows you just how good married life is going to be for you.

i was supposed to sweat you out, michael beckenbauer

michael beckenbauer doesn't give a shit about japan, or the other subpar racers who have the nerve to get behind the wheel of the cars just to lose by a wide margin to him, or about how he's perceived by the media. he just wants to finish out this season, return home, and maybe find some worthy competition. he doesn't care if it's your job to try to brighten up his image; he never asked for a publicist, and in typical michael fashion, he's going to go out of his way to get you to quit. he has a bad tendency to underestimate his opponents, though, and off the track, you just might be his worthiest competition yet.

[aftgficrec]

Favorite Neil/Jean or Neil&Jean fics?

In the aftermath of the publication of The Sunshine Court the relationship between Neil and Jean has been put under the spotlight a little more (no spoilers here though!), but there have always been authors who have shown this combo the attention it deserves. In addition, many fics under our raven!neil tag feature friendships or relationships between Neil and Jean. - S

Previously recommended:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

close friends Neil & Jean here

BFFs Jean & Neil here

Neil/Jean tumblr fics and headcanons here

‘Afterthoughts Chapter 68’, ‘Jean, Neil, and Kevin hanging out’ here (plus some more Neil & Jean under previous recs)

‘not very good at this’ here

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Neil/Jean fics here (you can also find a link to our Neil/Jean tag here)

More Jean/Neil fics here

‘we’ll survive, you and i’, ‘Heart on Your Sleeve, Eyes on the Street (the Heart-Eyes Remix)’, and ‘Doves & Ravens’  here

Some of our favourites from previous posts:

Your humble and silky life by moonix [Rated G, 3582 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Jean’s life these days is quiet, uneventful. His best friend has a hopeless crush on the unattainable Minyard, Jean’s colleague at the botanical garden. Jean has a standing appointment every week with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is happily married to someone else—but that’s okay. There’s still Jeremy the waiter, whose smile is the highlight of Jean’s week.

tw: animal death

Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner by nekojita [Rated E, 644156 words, complete, 2018]

When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is run. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to his 'rightful' place. Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: dubcon, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: minor character death, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing

Apart from Your World (A Part of Mine) by ApprenticedMagician [Rated T, 17647 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2018, locked]

David is shipping him off to the Isle of Anglesey and, frankly, Neil could use the time and distance away from an ugly break-up that still hasn't smoothed over. The problem is, if he isn't being reminded of his ex (courtesy of working alongside his identical twin brother), then he's being reminded of the mother who abandoned him (courtesy of their assigned patient who suffers the same affliction she once did). All around, it's shaping up to be anything but the trip he signed up for.

tw: references to past abuse

NB: find art for this fic by @llheji here

So Keep Your Heart On Your Sleeve (And Keep Your Eyes On The Streets) by CasTheButler [Rated T, 4162 words, complete, Aftg Winter Exchange 2018]

Cause it's a God damn long drive fall, Back to normality. Jean starts at a new school on a new soccer team, makes some friends, and spends the whole time falling in love with a punk. Written for the 2018 AFTG Winter Exchange.

tw: panic attacks

And here are some fics we haven’t rec’ed yet:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

Je crois en la chance de rejoindre la mer by Elyant [Rated T, 2007 words, complete, 2021, locked]

Part 4 of The Devil Makes Three

Jean has chosen the café whose tables were closest to the large windows overlooking the tarmac. After spending so many years underground and under the harsh fluorescent light of the Nest, he doesn't think he will ever have enough of the natural warmth of the sun. A duffle bag of clothes that are too new to feel like his, the tin of home-baked cookies Renee thrusted into his hands before he left, and a small package wrapped in kraft paper are his only baggage.  He's waiting for a plane from London to land because of a phone call he received a few nights before. He is therefore purposefully two hours too early for the flight that will take him to South California, to meet the team in crimson and gold that will become his family, even if he doesn't know it yet.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

from rain by ratbandaid [Rated T, 62807 words, complete, 2023]

Over time, Jean grew unsure as to why he'd been so intent on running from the mafia. He barely took care of himself and could hardly call whatever he was doing living. After all, he knew that one day, he'll be caught and dragged back, kicking and screaming, to be killed or worse: put back in the hands of Riko Moriyama. But when a snot-nosed, cocky brat, Neil, stumbles into his life, Jean slowly realizes what he's running for.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares

based on this art by @estavs

NB: This one contains slight spoilers for The Sunshine Court:

epic understatement by LadyTimelessness [Rated T, 335 words, complete, 2024]

he's pissed off that jean had to go through this. they're basically nothing to each other, but damn it, neil wants to crack grayson's skull open that second. faith in the world finally burns out in the fire of disillusionment.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Skip the Last Dance For Me (the Trojan Horse remix) by justadreamfox [Rated T, 3572 words, complete, Aftg Remix 2020]

Neil and Jean are free of the Nest, and wearing the Trojan red and gold, but they've still got "normal" life to navigate and friendships (past and present) to juggle. Really, sometimes you just want to be alone with your boyfriend.  Ft. Exy, pizza, and Steven Spielberg.

Nothing Mattered Until You by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 22497 words, complete, 2023]

On the docks in Marseille, Neil fell in love. But his mother ripped him away and for years he never dared hope to see Jean again. He believed that he would die before ever getting the chance. But when recuperating with his uncle after his father is killed, Neil's chance comes. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who went through some horrible things over the years. Despite their horrible pasts, they decide to try for a future together. Going to college and even making some friends along the way. But Riko has other plans and wants back what he considers his.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced domestic violence, tw: stalking, tw: harassment,  tw: dissociation

It's Friday, I'm in love by Greenfallleaves [Rated T, 5834 words, complete, 2023, locked]

The day Neil had found himself pushed into the strong chest of their school’s new student Jean Moreau had been one of his luckiest in hindsight.

Hold my breath in your hands by Greenfallleaves [Rated G, 2154 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Adapting to the world outside the nest hadn’t been easy for either Jean or Neil but now that they had had a few years to get used to it, they got to complain about (i.e. enjoy) spending quality time with their friends.

sleep notes by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 2928 words, complete, 2024, locked]

Neil smokes a joint and discusses the possibility that Kevin is an honest to God vampire.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A kiss while someone watches by @stabbyfoxandrew [tumblr, 2024]

Nathaniel never really saw the point of kissing until he was brought to the nest. Or rather, until the first time Jean Moreau backed him up against the wall of their shared dorm during an argument.

Art

Jean & Neil by @ziegenkind094

Raven!neil au - napping by @dawnatlas 

Raven!neil au - partners by @dawnatlas

‘Stitch by stitch, tape and gauze…’ by @dawnatlas

two by @02511213942

Neil and Jean find an empty pool at night by @aminiyard

i believe in jean moreau supremacy by @caraleadraws 

secret santa gift for @nekojitachan by @aminiyard

Hello sunshine court by @estavs

[sauron-kraut]

Get to know your Mutuals

Thank you for tagging me @perlen-gold! 🖤

What's the origin of your blog's title? @lvsifer and I were talking about a certain Middle-Earth cookbook with some truly funky recipes, unfortunately there were none for Mairon so we were like... What would he eat? He would definitely be into eating raw meat. Mettbrötchen are a German specialty, basically a bread roll with butter and minced raw pork (yes, you heard that right), preferably with pepper and red onions. So Mairon's Mettbrötchen was born - doesn't it just fuck phonetically?

Favorite Fandoms: The Silm fandom 🖤 I have never been truly active in any other fandom.

OTP(s) + shipname: Angbang (Mairon/Melkor). Most other ships I love/like are fucked up in a way that makes OTP sound wrong to describe them (not that an OTP can't have a fucked up dynamic of course!).

Favorite color: red, black, gold, rusty colors, yellow

Favorite game: Not a a gamer person.

Song stuck in your head:

Weirdest habit/trait? Super randomly talking to myself when I'm alone at home? Could be pieces of dialogue I'm planning for a fic, could be imaginary discussion scenarios with friends or coworkers... you name it.

Hobbies: Writing.

If you work, what's your profession? I'm a linguist specializing in language change, particularly grammatical change. I don't currently work in that field though; I work at a technical university in event management and student recruiting.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I'd work as a linguist and teach at university again.

Something you're good at: Learning languages quickly, imitating native accents in languages (other than English, probably due to my idgaf attitude when it comes to that, so have a weird mix of different accents in English mixed with a very slight German and Dutch accent. lol), teaching, public speaking, being thoughtful with gifts, cooking

Something you're bad at: Remembering birthdays, sometimes texting back, sometimes cleaning, MATH (oh god)

Something you excel at: being anxious, overthinking, understanding how languages are structured and applying this to learning them

Something you love: reading, poetry, writing, my apartment, partying, various altered states of consciousness from time to time, dancing, 80s music, techno, prosecco, cooking, food, Berlin, fandom, my mom, my friends, traveling

Something you could talk about for hours without off the cuff: linguistics, language change, The Silm

Something you hate: coriander and water melon

Something you collect: Nothing really that comes to mind.

Something you forget: birthdays, appointments

What's your love language? The concept of love languages has its problems but if I just use this to describe how I do express my love: giving cute gifts, cooking for people, listening to them, open communication, spending quality time together

Favorite movie/show: LOTR and MANY more, show: DARK, Sense8, The Sinner

Favorite food: so many different soups, kebap, pizza, STEAK, schnitzel, peruvian food, birria tacos

Favorite animal: three-toed sloth

Are you musical? I know how to play the saxophone and I did so decently. But I wouldn't say I'm musical.

What were you like as a child? I have to quote @perlen-gold here: An insufferable know-it-all.

Favorite subject at school? German, English, philosophy, biology

Least favorite subject? MATHS. And PE.

What's your best character trait? I'm honest and good at communicating openly.

What's your worst character trait? Avoidant behavior, procrastinating literally everything

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? I would make the sun rise again so it doesn't feel like another of those depressing winter nights.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? I can't think of anyone I'd genuinely want to meet.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

elektra by @lvsifer. What a masterpiece. Also please have a look at the fanfics I recommended here!

Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):

Mairon by @lvsifer

So many more art from talented and skilled artists that I love, but I had to make a decision here and this one will haunt me forever 🖤

✨Tagging @crackinthecup, @cilil, @elevenelvenswords, @admirably-abhorrent, @tauw-nu-fuin, @peasant-player, @blauerregen and @lvsifer