#and street urchins and dogs love him

[therulerofallpotatos]

You notice a lot of common interpretations and adaptations of Sherlock can be found i, I believe the 2nd, sherlock story The Sign of (the) Four and I even have a classmate who talks about how rude Sherlock is in the chapters we read meanwhile me (and turns out a few quiet classmates who feel awkward hearing this take on him. Bless you my love. The vindication is real.) are just falling a little in love with how adorable and sweet Sherlock is in this book.

Dude waxes poetic about the sunrise while in the thick of the chase TM and serenades Watson to sleep after bringing his own exhaustion to Watson's attention. Sweetest man alive alert. And this is the same day he sasses Scotland yard for deciding who was guilty of the day's murder before he even showed up at the scene. 10/10. No notes

[lancabbage]

Where did the whole "WWX did not regret giving up his golden core" theory from?

He did.

Truthfully, he wasn’t unaffected. Could a person so easily resign themselves to such a loss?

Of course not. It was impossible.

WWX reflecting upon giving up his golden core.

But whenever he found himself tossing and turning in the dead of night, unable to sleep and plagued by thoughts of how he’d never again follow the orthodox path to the mountain’s peak, never again display the astounding swordplay that made people’s jaws drop…he would turn his thoughts around with a simple fact.

If it had not been for Jiang Fengmian bringing him to Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian might never have crossed paths with the cultivation world. He would never have been conscious of such a mystical and magnificent realm. He’d merely have been the leader of some homeless street urchins who roamed the streets and fled at the sight of dogs—or perhaps herded cattle and stole vegetables in the countryside, playing his flute and living one day at a time. He’d have had no way of cultivating, let alone a chance to form a golden core.

He did, and that's alright. He's only human! People seem to think he gave his golden core up because "he loved his brother" and "he's just a kind idiot". Nope. WWX is kind, but he's not stupid and he definitely didn't give JC his core because of affection.

So he treated it as a repayment of his debt, or an atonement for his sins. Treated it as if he had never obtained that golden core to begin with.

After bringing himself around so many times this way, he was almost able to actually feel as wild and carefree as he acted on the surface. He could even half-jokingly praise himself for the state of acceptance he had reached, while he was at it.

He gave him his golden core because he felt like he had to. He had been told, time and time again this was all his fault (by JC and YZY) and the last thing both YZY and JFM said to WWX, although worded differently and said in complete opposite tones, was a reminder that WWX "owed" the Jiangs everything and should look after JC no matter the cost.

This is what drove him to give JC his core, debt. Honour bound to repay the Jiangs. And as the above clearly shows us, WWX really struggled with that. Struggled with the fact he felt he had to pay them all back (when he never actually did, but we won't go into that here...) and trying to convince himself the golden core he worked so hard for wasn't even his to begin with.

It wasn't an easy decision to make for WWX. He's not some self-sacrificing idiot like some make him out to be. It's absolutely heartbreaking and I think this is all so often overlooked.

[apomaro-mellow]

King&Prince 5

Steve's sleep at this point was mostly restless. It was hard to get comfortable down here, being a dungeon and all. And he was already a light sleeper by nature. Still, it took him longer than he liked to realize he was being watched. He'd awakened, feeling slightly colder than normal. He didn't hear footsteps or breathing, nor had any of the torches lit. Yet he could feel eyes on him. Someone was here. And it was something inhuman.

He could imagine a drooling maw opening wide and then snatching shut. Or a clawed hand reaching out to gouge. Slowly, Steve reached out for one of the stray bricks in his cell.

He turned and shot up quick, brandishing the rock only to find nothing. It was still completely dark, but he didn't feel the presence anymore. He dropped the rock and sat back down, still feeling tired but now completely awake. He stayed up, watching the bars of his cell until someone came to light the torches and deliver his breakfast.

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

"He looks pathetic", Eddie said, feet propped up onto the table.

"He's been sleeping in his own filth this whole time, of course he does", Nancy said, arms crossed.

"Are you sure his father isn't coming to save him?", Jeff asked.

Eddie had sent the ransom letter on a demobat. He was able to connect to any of the creatures in his domain and he'd kept this one tethered just to see and hear what King Alric would say once he'd received the message. The demobat had heard it loud and clear and relayed to Eddie the fact that his letter had been burned.

"No one from that kingdom is coming for him. He's been abandoned", Eddie said. Not too long ago, he would have said that with glee, maybe even dancing. But after seeing the state that Steve was in last night...

"So what's the next move?", Nancy asked. "You're not just thinking of letting him go, are you?"

Jeff stood up. "Why not? He's no use to us if he's a worthless prince. We might as well send him back."

"Send him back to what?", Eddie shot up. "His own father threw him away like trash." He went over to the window, gazing at the view of his kingdom at sunset. "I can't return him to that."

"Are you suggesting that you keep him as a pet?", Nancy raised a brow.

Eddie snorted. "Not me. Robin can have him. She's been wanting some help corralling the kids for their music lessons and to rearrange the storage for instruments."

"You're going to make a prince be Robin's lap dog?", Jeff snickered.

"She'll love it", Eddie grinned.

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

"I don't want him", Robin said as they went down to the dungeons.

"Too bad, he's yours", Eddie said.

"Do I at least get a leash?"

Eddie stopped when they got to Steve's cell. "I think he's already broken."

A brick thrown at the bars said otherwise.

"I think he's still got some fight in him", Robin snarked.

Eddie looked the prince up and down. He looked more like a street urchin than a member of a royal family. Covered in dirt and grime and probably other things. Eddie took a key from his pocket and started to unlock the cell.

"Time for my execution?"

"More like it's time for you to earn your keep around here", Eddie said as he slid the bars open. "You've been getting free meals and your own room to boot. I bet it's barely a change from back home."

Steve stood up suddenly and jabbed a sharpened piece of brick at the monster before him. His wrist was caught easily though and he ended up pinned against a wall. He didn't let up though, trying to land a hit until the king had both of his wrists held above his head and his lower half was being pressed by his hips, keeping him from kicking out. It didn't help that all this time being trapped and fed scraps had made his body weak.

"A rather valiant effort. You almost got close to laying a hand on me."

"Fuck you", Steve bit out. "I'm not working for you or for anyone here."

"You don't have much of a choice. I'm not in the business of letting people rot away useless. So you will be of use to my household in whatever way I see fit."

Steve thought of the horror stories he'd been told as a child. This beast could shift into anything and rip him apart. Why was it that right now, he was holding back? He had just tried to murder him Was he that little of a threat? Or maybe he was trying to keep from damaging the goods, lest his father go back on any deals to get him back.

"You can go ahead and execute me then. I'd rather die than be of use to you." Steve was surprised when he was released. It was so quick that he couldn't help but stumble.

"You would rather die than be a hostage for ransom? A little late for that, isn't it? And if you die, there goes negotiations."

"I don't know what my father has promised you for my return, but I don't fucking care anymore."

Steve hadn't even raised his voice, but the silence that followed was deafening. How long had he felt this way? His home wasn't a home anymore. His parents had already been shipping him off in the hopes of bettering him and meeting their standards. The difference between this cold dungeon and their frigid stares were very minimal.

He met the king's eyes but his expression was unreadable. Someone cleared their throat and Steve looked to the woman who had come with him. There was a trio of guards surrounding her now. Why a creature of chaos and darkness needed guards, Steve didn't know. Honestly, he was surprised to see as many humans as he had so far.

"Get him cleaned up", King Edward ordered. "Then take him to Robin's study."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious. I told you I don't want him!"

He walked out of the cell and the guards entered, taking a hold of Steve easily despite his struggling. He was taken out of the dungeons for the first time since he arrived. The castle's architecture and decor looked...homey. It was still grand, as most castles were, but Steve could hear people talking. Just talking. Some of them laughing. It was quite the change from his own castle's silent walls, but Steve wasn't able to take it in much before he was thrust into a room with a steaming bath.

He wanted to cry but then he immediately got into a defensive mode, expecting the guards to forcibly undress him and toss him in. Instead, once they released him, they left the room. He was surprised but not too surprised to see that they had locked the door behind themselves. Resigned, Steve took off his rags and stepped into the tub.

He couldn't help the soft moan that left his lips as he submerged. Instantly, his mood lifted. He soaked for a while, and then began to wash in earnest before the water could cool. He knew he'd been filthy but seeing the color of the water when he got out made him shiver. Steve dried off and looked around for something to wear. On the sink, a folded bundle got his attention.

While the prince was washing up, Robin was working in her study, trying to figure out what the prince could even do.

"You could always keep him busy with some heavy lifting", Eddie offered, being very helpful by sitting off to the side and tossing nuts into his mouth.

"You're really not going to tell him, are you? About his father's refusal to come?"

"...I think part of him already knows." Eddie had seen that look many times before. When Nancy had shown up at his doorway, tiny Mike in tow. When he'd found El causing a ruckus in one of his towns. Even the vision of Max popped up in his head. They had all been leaving something behind. But that something turned out to be absolutely nothing to them.

Prince Steven, coming from a long line of Harringtons, born in the lap of luxury with a legacy secured as long as he stayed in line...he didn't want any of it.

Eddie wanted to know why.

Part 7

And he's out of the cell!

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @sugartin @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord

[evita-shelby]

Promise?

For @novashelby

Tommy & adopted!daughter!reader

Gif by @ssa-kitsune1310

Even though you know you aren’t a real Shelby, it is always awful to be reminded of that fact.

No one dared to do it in front of your family, but there was always someone wishing to hurt you like that the moment they got a chance.

Many had heard the story of how Tommy found you half-starved in the street as a toddler cradling your dead mama before he left for the war and brought you home as his daughter. Most assumed he was your father in truth as it was known how often he frequented ladies of the night after Greta’s death.

But he wasn’t, you were some orphan little girl whose mother got kicked out of her home and died of exposure in a street corner begging for scraps. He loved you and named you Shelby and his family was your family since that night he found you.

You were raised a Shelby, you kept their traditions, you went to church with Polly and learned Rromani just as Finn did and now you would have a mother and a baby brother.

Your family didn’t like Grace, for what she did to Ada and for the betrayal that killed Danny Whizz-Bang that December. But she seemed nice enough, loved your father even if he didn’t seem as in love with her as he had been before she left.

Her family didn’t like you.

They called you the little bastard girl, the street urchin who should be sent away so you can’t steal Charlie’s inheritance or cause a rift in her marriage because stepmothers are replaceable, and children are not.

“They always send us away; he won’t love you anymore because you aren’t his real baby.” One of Grace’s cousins whispers to you as you eat sweets in your room away from everyone. “Daddy sent me to school because my stepmother told him too and now, he only loves her and the stupid baby because he’s the Boy. If Charlie wasn’t his baby too, she wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

You do not sleep a wink that night or those after because while Grace likes you now, you know too well what she’s capable of. Freddie would still be alive if she hadn’t called the coppers on him when Karl was born. The beatings and torture in prison gave him weak lungs after and the influenza finished the job.

It’s been some time after the wedding when you finally get the courage to ask your dad about it. He’s troubled, things with Grace aren’t what they pretend they are.

He doesn’t trust her, can’t have a real marriage or even love if there isn’t any trust, you heard Johnny Dogs’ wives say to each other while you played with their girls earlier and they whispered about them in their gossip.

And it was true, he never invites her to meetings and never confides in her like he promised when they argued yesterday about it. Your dad had raised his voice and told him he wasn’t changing his mind about something, and you knew what it was he meant even if you only heard those words.

“Daddy, are you going to send me away?” you put on your bravest face as you ask him in his office. You sit on his lap even now that you are older as you have always done even after Grace came into his life.

“No, sweetheart, whatever gave you the idea I would ever do that?” He asks concerned about it all.

“One of the girls at the party told me that when her daddy got married and had a baby with her stepmom, the stepmom sent her to a bad school, so the Boy doesn’t have any competition.” You tell him everything that troubles you and don’t even hide what you heard him say yesterday. “She said Grace would do it too because that’s what all stepmothers do in her family.”

“Y/N, no one is sending you away. I would never allow that to happen.” He smoothed your hair and quieted your fears, and yet you need more than just those words.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, as long as we live, you will be my daughter and I will never send you away even if the King himself ordered me to.” He offers his palm, spits on it like he does with promises he will never break and you do the same as you agree.

You never leave his side, you grow up as a Shelby would and when Charlie leaves with Lizzie after Ruby’s death, you stay with him to the bitter end.

[hauntingofhouses]

(concept art of young taigen - source ; art credit: @abigaillarson)

i cannot get over this concept art of young taigen. god.

just look at this angry bratty boy, too many feelings that he doesnt know what to do with! an abused 9 year old kid in poverty always playing with sticks in the dirt, obsessed with greatness and dreaming to escape his decrepit village—and he does!

he does escape. he runs away. this angry little boy, all claws and teeth and biting words uttered with a lisp, going on the run into a world he's never seen before until he makes his way to kyoto. and knowing him he probably forced his way in to be accepted by the dojo, growling and kicking even as he's thrown out, back into the streets, too stubborn to take no for an answer and never knowing when to give up.

taigen calls mizu a dog, weak, an orphan, a scrawny street urchin. but i can't help but think that he feels so bold to use those words because he had them spat at him too.

because taigen had the idea of "this is how the world is" beat into him from birth. he learned quickly that if you couldn't beat the world you could join it. but that meant losing your way, your values, your principles. and isn't that what true honour is? not just titles and status and glory?

we don't get to see what taigen, as a child surrounded by peers encouraging and goading him on, would've actually done if that meteor hadn't fallen right in front of them at that very moment. would he have really tried to throw that stone on mizu, killing her? we don't know.

but we do see what taigen (his true self, with no one around) does, when presented with the same opportunity. when mizu passes out in front of him, unconscious and near death, vulnerable, the path to restoring his honour lays itself out for him on a silver platter. and he wants to take it, wants to kill mizu, to claim what is his and return to kyoto and get back everything he'd worked tooth and nail for. he feels like it's what he should do. but he doesn't.

and later, again he is presented with the chance to betray mizu, likely offered by heiji shindo to get his rank reinstated within the shindo dojo. and again, taigen doesn't take it. he refuses. "stupidly loyal," fowler calls him later. loyal, like a dog.

because now, pulled away from the sneering looks and jeering words of people around him, telling him that this is what the world is, taigen had met ringo and mizu, two outcasts who refuse to follow a predetermined path to greatness. and so inside something blooms in him. something like hope. a chance to live in a world that doesn't kick you down every chance it gets, to live in a world where genuine kindness and and love and friendship and even weakness is possible, allowed to simply exist without fear.

because he'd been running away from the very idea of it the whole time. when he ran from kohama, he never looked back, never wanted to remember what it was like to be a child, afraid and hungry and angry and hurting, without the words to make sense of it, desperately wishing for something. something more. he doesn't know what. but he hears stories of great swordsmen and decides, yes, this must be it. this is what i want: glory, greatness. the twisted seed gets planted and thrives in this barren land.

and when he returns to kohama with mizu and ringo, he at last is forced to stop running. he must face the child within him again, and he tells that child to put down the stones in his hand, tells him to stop barking at anything that moves or looks at him wrong.

the child drops the stone, and taigen buys dumplings instead, gives them to mizu. the child within him, wide-eyed at the prospect of friendship, moves him to pick up a hammer and toss it to mizu. he's smiling inside even as he does it; giggling like a kid hiding a silly prank. as soon as mizu drops the hammer after him, he leaps at her, tackling her to the ground and they wrestle and laugh unbridled like two children playing while the adults aren't around to barge in and yell at them.

and then his gaze catches on mizu's lips, he stares into mizu's eyes, a sparkling blue, inviting like the open sea in good weather.

it's a man's desire that takes hold then, the child in him sinking away again, and he curses himself for it, because it ruins the moment.

everything goes to shit from there, and then it's back to being a man, back to putting on his grown-up's armour to play hero.

it fails. the shogun dies. fowler's beatings reopen all the wounds left by heiji shindo's torture. "honour is meaningless," mizu tells him. "nothing comes from being a samurai but death."

the words follow him, and he follows the words.

as everything burns down, he runs, leaving the fire behind him, and sees akemi, as well as the verdure of spring behind her, calling him. he does not hesitate then to hold his hand out to her, inviting her to come with him. "i don't want to be great," he says. "i just want to be happy."

what is happiness to him? perhaps he doesn't know it yet, or perhaps he does. but really, i believe happiness is what the child in him always wanted but never received. happiness is a home.

[relax-and-read-on]

Math San, I Gotta Ask For More Of That Primarch planet Swap AU, The Amount Of Imaginations That Is Going Through My Head Is Insane, But Headcanons are enough of you do not want to update, As I Am also Genuinely Interested In The Headcanons as well.

Hello hello!!! I am *slowly* going back into updating my blog again, so!

Primarch planetswap au: HC edition!

Lorgar (From Terra): actually quite close to his father and Malcador. Has the habit of walking into Malcador rooms and face planting on the old man bed to complain, after a hard day of not strangling the high lords.

Angron: On Inwit, he had the disastrous habit of running toward all the giant carnivorous monster. Due to his empath power, he ended with a monstrosity called "Land-Orca" that he treat like a dog as a pet.

Fulgrim of Nuceria: Sign language was actually the primary one in the slave pits, to communicate away from the guards. The system that Fulgrim and his sons use together is different from any other, and quite secretive. He actually started teaching it to Ferrus.

Alpharius Omegon on Chtonia: They were actually homeless, until emp showed up! They never wanted their full identity as two knows to other, as it could have compromise their secret statut of vigilante, fighting back the local gangs.

Magnus of Medusa: Think rocks are tasty, okay? He never quite got over his habit of eating sand, but now it's mostly crystal. Has an actual chart ranking the tastiest ones, and fucking LOVE how tasty fossil are.

Leman of Delivrance: Has yet to fully understand that has wolf dna, and as such fight a lot of his instinct. Insist on touching everyone he consider family, and check on the regular where everyone is, and if they are ok. Always eat last too.

Konrad on Maccrage: when he was a child and having really bad convulsion, his mother gave him a pet ferret (wich used to be common pets for Romans) as some kind of alert animal. Konrad doesn't deal well with food often, so his beloved lil friend (called Regulus) became the fattest, happiest noodle.

Ferrus of Caliban: He actually has a romantic side! He grew up hearing songs of knights and princess, and then ended up becoming a knight himself! And while incredibly chivalrous, the realm of the arts (outside a forge) stay incredibly foreign to him. He does love nowaday harlequin romance novels.

Horus on Nostramo: In spite of having created a rather criminal society, he made extreme effort to make it a true meritocracy. Any street urchin can become a mob enforcer under him... If they navigate properly the treacherous world of the mafia.

Sanguinius of Fenris: He actually is a supremely picky eater, and does not trust 95% of vegetables. He only ate meat until he was found by the Imperium, he's not a goat, why do they keep waving kale at him?!

Lion on Colchis: Fully, 100% aware that the chaos gods are real, and actively pray to them. He has his "religion of the Emperor" that he actually use as a facade, since it annoy Emp so much, he doesn't look into his "true" belief.

Perturabo on Chemos: has actually developed full AI again, but hide it HARD from Emp and the Mechanicus. He like his robots!! He think that they should have rights! Why can't the Imperium be less stupid about this... Vaguely in love with Rogal and his Cool Armours.

Jaghatai on Baal: Became quite the warlord, locally. Was especially curious of the use of radiation, and definitely made some horrible WMD back in the day. Currently falling in line with the Mechanicus, as every vehicules present on Baal was almost holly in their culture.

Rogal of Nocturne: Created some really, REALLY advanced fortification that can, somehow, follow the landscape change. Is pioneering the use of dragon scales mixed with special metals, creating something that might be stronger than ceramite. Does not understand why Perturabo is always hanging around.

Roboute on Barbarus: decided to fight necromancy with fire... Artillery fire, to be exact. He brought the industrial revolution to Barbarus, and has pretty intense plan for terraforming the planet. Hasn't stopped working in.... Approximately 50 years.

Mortarion of Prospero: Like in many of my hc, Morty is intersex. He's lucky to have landed on Prospero, where androgyny is a sign of beauty. He actually like cultivating that appearance, and if asked what his gender is, he usually just reply "mushroom".

Corvus of Chogoris: if it's me, then you bet Corvus is a transwoman lol. She wear traditional mongolian ceremonial outfit as a power move, because *no one* expect her to be able to move this easily in all those heavy clothes.

Vulkan of Olympia: VERY close to all 3 of his siblings! He was never a fighter there, and instead worked hard to promote a democratie and division of power. He still is in contact with all of them, especially Calliphone. She keep teasing him about his possible crush on a certain Oracle...

[tvmigraine]

Random Doctor Who RPG Facts about the Paternoster era

A possible Time Lord is still alive in Victorian England. Running the Diogenes Club is Dame Regina Smythe. The club itself is able to change size, miraculously gain rooms and have its interiors change on a whim, making it appear as a TARDIS. The game suggests they could be a Time Lord who's been chameleon arch'd, but I like the idea that it's an incarnation of the Doctor.

The Artful Dodger was a real person - specifically, they were Sam Swift the Quick (The Woman Who Lived). He isn't immortal but he ages at an incredibly slow pace (basically making him Jack Harkness). He looks after street urchins called "The Raggedy Children" while continuing to do crimes.

There is a giant Labyrinth underneath London. One suggested theory is that it's a dying TARDIS, due to its ability to traverse through history when travelling through it.

Madame Vastra and the Doctor both stopped a Krynoid Pod from hatching in London.

Ada Gillyflower (The Crimson Horror) has her own K-9. Their K-9 is an actual dog that's telepathic.

The political history of Who is further complicated by a wholly new Prime Minister for London - his name is Nathan Fairfield.

There is a female splinter of Scaroth. Her name is Scarlett Valentin and she is both an actress and opera singer hailing from Paris. The book states that she stole her skin from a prostitute in order to specifically appear young and healthy.

A splinter of Clara works for Torchwood - her name is Rhona Austen. It is suggested that she was only recruited as bait for the Doctor, but she is said to be a capable Torchwood member.

Jackson Lake's TARDIS (Tethered Aerial Release, Developed In Style) is available for aerial rides above London. It is now a business run by a brother-sister duo called Henry and Charlotte.

The Silence are a threat in London - specifically there is one called The Revenant Reverand, who uses his position hiding in a church to place suggestions into people's minds.

One of the main plotline hooks they offer is continuing the adventures of Victoria Waterfield, exploring what she did after leaving the TARDIS. It is not what I expected in this book.

Saving my favourite pint for last... there is a Dalek hiding in the criminal underworld called "The Napoleon of Crime". He was pulled out of the Time War following the events of The Evil of the Daleks and is trying to return to the TIme War. After acquiring Cyberman technology (The Next Doctor), he uses it to try and build a Time Corridor and get back into the Time War.

He has two lieutenants - the first is Mister Steele, a partially converted Cyberman who's fighting against his programming. Because of that programming, he is still planning to build a new Cyber-King and convert London, but fights against this so he can remain loyal to Napoleon. The second lieutenant is Miss Lovelace, a clockwork robot that is almost fully human that is entirely devised to be a rival to Steele, all for Napoleon's continued entertainment.

Napoleon also has an alien army thanks to his collected alien wares. On top of Cybershades, he now has Chessmen - pawns in his games that are controlled through Cyberman, Clockwork Robot and other alien technology. He has recruited The Revenant Reverand and Scarlett Valentin before, along with the Borad who is still alive!

Notably Napoleon commissioned the Borad to create a Dalek clone as a form of company - he eventually managed to create Josephine. She has a scrapped, bulky shell made from leftover pieces, being dubbed a "Steelclad". She was originally a woman named Lyssa Marden who the Borad "saved" from a fatal accident, although she does not realise what she's been turned into.

I love this character - he enjoys being a leader of the criminal underworld, especially being a nemesis for the Paternoster Gang (the book suggests Napoleon unconsciously sabotages his own plans because he would enjoy remaining in Victorian London).

Cubicle 7 beat Big Finish, this is way more fun.

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

So, I started up yet another BG3 playthrough - shocking! Doing another Durge run, but this time I wanted to use the white dragonborn origin and experience what that playthrough would be like. I've always loved the dragonborn models, and the Durge origin has always looked badass to me. Thus, Tsavo the male dragonborn battlemage came into existence and it's been a blast. He's a fighter/sorcerer, which has turned into a hella fun build.

Also, shocker, Astarion's unyielding attention seems to have hooked this self-conceited surly asshole of a lizard.

I'm enjoying my headcannons about these two way too much, y'all.

Both of them have always been judged based on looks. Astarion as the world-endingly beautiful vampire and Tsavo as the frightening monstrosity.

Tsavo doesn't necessarily remember details, but he has a vague recollection of being used as something of an attack dog. (I have so many headcannons about Durge and Gortash.)

Tsavo is violent and dangerous, but also ambitious and in constant need of a driving goal.

Tsavo has a vague recollection of being an orphan and street urchin. The tiefling kids in the Grove are the first thing that triggers a memory. They are the only reason he gets involved with the Grove drama.

Astarion initially started trying to endear himself to Tsavo because of how he looked. Big, intimidating, naturally imposing and highly skilled in utterly destroying people.

Tsavo initially finds Astarion humorous and flirts back just for the fun of it. Because, why the fuck not?

Tsavo knew from the second he met Astarion that the elf was a vampire. He may have a head full of holes but he'd always recognize the smell of a corpse. He let Astarion have his "secret" though.

Tsavo is a resourceful leader, looting bodies and buildings with near obsession. Astarion is confused the first time Tsavo gives him better gear - a pair of elegant leather gloves the dragonborn found while raiding an old ruin. Astarion can't remember the last time anyone gave him anything and he doesn't know how to respond.

For Tsavo, it's a forgettable interaction. He's just trying to better equip the only people who may be able to help with the dire situation at hand. So, Tsavo walks by Astarion's tent and, without stopping, tosses the gloves to the elf without warning. "Here. They're better than what you've been using." And he's gone before Astarion can protest.

Tsavo is blunt as fuck. He gets frustrated by clandestine strategies, doesn't have the patience for lying and manipulating, and would rather just kill someone outright in broad daylight rather than lure and coerce a target to a more secluded area.

As Astarion comes to understand this about Tsavo, he begins to fret over whether his seduction tactics were the best way to get close to the dragonborn. But he's in too deep now and is starting to feel things he'd rather just ignore.

While Tsavo doesn't remember details from his past, he does have vague recollections of being used, both as a weapon and in other ways. Considering the fact that one of Bhaal's purposes for his spawn is to create more Bhaalspawn, you can imagine what life in a cult would be like for someone who is told one of their main purposes is to create offspring. Ghosts of these memories haunt Tsavo's broken mind.

Astarion and Tsavo are assholes, and neither wants to humor the notion that maybe they aren't just using one another for their own amusements. That, maybe, there's a stronger connection growing beneath the sex, the flirting and all the mockery and banter.

I have a ridiculous desire to write some one-shots featuring these two because I kind of love them. That is all.

[justsleepyrune]

@fallenlondonficswap @thedandy-detective

I have no idea what Tobey’s like, but have a dog fueled misadventure! For the secret swap!

General rating | Tobey, Brett, the Grubby Kitten | 1040 words

“Tobey, come here, you can’t just run away,” Brett sighed, watching the small terrier stumble about, little legs trotting in the most abstract of lines. “We’ve got plans, remember?” 

The terrier didn’t listen, continuing to wind about. Perhaps he had his own plans, something involving tracing every fifteenth cobblestone as he wobbled about. Brett followed, easily keeping up pace with his dog, still not reaching to grab him. “This case is an important one,” he began to lecture. Tobey didn’t care. His nose twitched in the air. He darted away, following the winding path of the delicious scent that he had caught. 

See, Brett was a detective. Brett could solve a case, put clues together, chase down the faintest of evidence trails. Tobey was not. Indeed, it wasn’t clear if Tobey was even aware half of the time, as absinthe drenched as he managed to be. However, there was one thing that Tobey was excellent at, just the same as his owner. Tracking down whatever trail had caught his interest.

This, of course, wasn’t anything like a case. No, Tobey had caught the scent of ham. Tinned ham, specifically, an abomination of dubious origin, but one that certainly still smelled like meat. 

“Tobey, come back!” Brett was already falling behind him. Tobey wondered, for a moment, whether he should wait for him. However, he was far more focused on running in a straight line, not tripping over a stray cobblestone or a random passerby’s foot. 

His feet skid, barely retaining traction on the paved street. He looked back, just for a moment, to watch his owner nearly collide into two women on a stroll, only to collide into someone himself.

He hit the small kitten full speed, bowling her over and sending himself toppling over too. They flopped into the entryway of a small, grimy pawnshop, each window boarded over twice. Tobey huffed, trying to decide which direction was up. That one. No, actually, it was this one. He stood, shaking himself off.

The Grubby Kitten watched him, green eyes wide as she skittered backwards, ears flattening as she hissed in disapproval at his clumsiness. In a similar accent to a few of the urchins he had seen throwing rocks from the rooftops, she began to scold him. Something about how she wouldn’t expect much from a dreary creature as himself, but he was miserably failing even the lowest of expectations.

Tobey blinked. He wondered if he should be listening. He’d caught the scent of tinned ham again. He began to inch  away, stepping backwards, hoping to escape the shrill kitten’s long winded speech.

Suddenly he was being yanked upwards, his sense of direction scrambling in three different directions, finally collapsing back together as he was pulled to Brett’s chest. “I told you not to run off,” Brett sighed. He sounded a little out of breath. “I just ran into such a lovely couple, nearly spilled the poor woman’s tea all over her, and then,” Tobey tuned him out, trying to wriggle away again. While he couldn’t decide which way was down, he was pretty convinced that it involved getting away from Brett’s firm grip.

“Keep a better eye on ‘ur pup,” the Grubby Kitten hissed, prancing a little, as if she was older and more respectable than her small size and general bedraggled nature betrayed. 

Brett paused, before looking for a safe spot in the entryway to take a seat, safe from the general grime. Finally he found one, carefully sitting, Tobey still struggling in his arms. “Er, I’m very sorry, ma’am.” 

The Grubby Kitten sniffed, head held high in the air. Tobey swung his head back and forth, before attacking Brett’s arm with ineffectual headbutts and kisses. Brett barely blinked. “He knocked into me,” she grumbled, pacing again. Back and forth, she weaved, circling Brett, still watching him with big green eyes. “Don’t want any ‘alf-wit, useless apologies.”

Tobey rather thought that she was a dreadful creature. It wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t been looking where he’d been going, he hardly remembered to look at all half the time. But Brett smiled, because his owner was kind. His owner had always been far too kind. “Might I offer a secret, in exchange for your forgiveness? He can be quite clumsy sometimes.”

The kitten paused, tail flicking up as she considered, eyes alight with the idea of making a real trade. “I suppose I could forgive ‘im, just this once,” she finally grumbled. 

“Thank you, miss,” Brett smiled. She hissed a little at his smile. It was almost pathetically adorable, Tobey thought. She may have been dreadful, but she had some half of the skill that he’d learned early, of looking as cute as possible when a mess. In his case, drenched in absinthe. In hers, being an utter brat, filthy, and looking like something that had slept in the gutter. Obviously, Brett had much more refined tastes. Still, Tobey’s owner leaned down, pulling Tobey away from his reach for a moment, to whisper some secret in the kitten’s ear. 

Tobey’s owner was forever too kind.

The kitten’s tail flicked back and forth as she listened, before scampering two steps back, as if afraid that he would snatch it away in an instant. “You’re forgiven,” she sniffed, looking to Tobey. “Watch where ‘ur goin’ next time.” He wouldn’t. In fact, he thought that he’d barrel into her even harder. Even if, at the moment, he couldn’t quite decide where she was. 

He’d figure it out.

Brett stood again, saying a polite farewell to the kitten, who bolted before he’d even halfway finished. Urchin pets. They never had many manners. Tobey squirmed upwards, licking Brett’s face, as they walked away.

“Goodness, alright,” his owner sighed, scratching behind his ears, before begrudgingly setting him down. “If you’ll stop fighting our feline friends, let’s get on with our plans? I can’t miss this interview. It took a lot to get the devilless to agree to a meeting, I don’t think she’ll accept tardiness. Besides,” and Tobey had stopped listening, having caught the scent of tinned ham again. 

He bolted once more, ignoring the shout of his exasperated owner behind him. He was hungry and he had a ham to track down.

[maliro-t]

Early on in my second BG3 playthrough, I had my pocket picked by Silfy at the Emerald Grove, and when Mol returned my things, they came in the following container:

Pickpocket's Bag: "A warning is embroidered in shaky letters on the inside flap- 'HANDS OFF'."

There was a lovely bit of irony to this whole affair, given that my Tav was an urchin that grew up on the streets of the city running similar cons, and keeping similar stashes. He was endeared by them (and by the bag), and I'm overly sentimental, so I started collecting items that I thought would have stood out to him in this sack, something I added to through the end of the game. Just trinkets and letters; the kinds of things that didn't feel right to just sell or lose in an overfull chest. Little bits of other people's lives that he wanted to remember.

So, to give myself something to look back on, the following is an account of its contents by the end (excluding some utility items I kept in there for easy access), and some musings on each.

Kanon's Handkerchief: "Its owner frequently insisted he didn't need this hand-cut linen square, but his sister kept it to hand in case his allergies kicked up."

Found on the body of the tiefling Arka, on an overlook between Moonhaven and the goblin camp. He thoughtlessly encouraged her push for revenge. He wished he had told her to live instead.

Mirkon's Story: "Mirkon's present to you, describing how you saved him from the harpies, and how he thinks you were 'ammazeing'."

Once, there was a boy on a beech. he saw there was a harpie nest. He was a very good climer. he wantet to clime to the top and steel from the harpie nest. But the harpie was very mean. She sang a song and the boy forgot wat he was doing. But then an adventurer passed by. The adventurer was very strong and killed the harpie in one blow and safed the boy. The boy was very cold and scared. He was standing in the water so he was very cold. But the adventurer was ammazeing. The boy wanted to be like the adventurer. He wanted to be strong and safe peopple and never be scared egain. Just like the adventurer. THE END

A little scrap of someone else's wonder. Nothing else like it.

Brass locket: "Slightly tarnished and opened with a mere flick of the thumb."

Found on the body of one of Aradin's crew; an adventurer that died at the gate to the grove. It seemed important somehow.

Dog Collar: "An old, leather collar for a large dog. The name 'Myrna' is engraved on the tag, surrounded by a plethora of indecipherable runes."

Someone's still thinking of her, all the way down there.

Guiding Light: "Used by the previous owner to access both the Underdark's darkest corners and her own basement, this ring seems to reflect light where there should be none."

Torn-Out Paper: "A torn strip of paper with two lines of barley legible script."

[The writing on this torn-out strip of paper is shaky and blotted with tears, making it barely legible.] The silence stretches on- I'm all alone. Please, can hold your hands, for just a while?

Patched Parchment: "A small poem about love and loss inscribed in this torn paper."

[The paper is torn and patched in many places, as if it was well-used but treasured. On it is a small poem without a name.] These empty sheets are all that's left of you. The last of all the thoughtless gifts you gave. I will hold onto them; it's all that I can do. I can't throw them away; I've never been that brave.

Vestiges of Lenore. He never had a handle on pretty words like this. The arcane tower was striking, even as someone with little knowledge of or interest in magic. Sometimes you enter a place and can sense the fingerprints of the people who lived there all over it, take in their joy and their pain and their loss as if it were your own, and leave feeling like you've lost a friend even though you never met them.

Sending Shell: "Faint whispers creep from this Sending Shell when you hold it close, yet the method of sending messages from it is unclear."

Purchased from Mattis at Last Light Inn. You can't knock the kid's hustle in even the darkest of times. And besides, this thing has got to work eventually, right? It's pretty, if nothing else.

Stuffed Bear: "This bear- oft torn and repaired- seems one good squeeze away from crumbling into mouldered stuffing and threadbare patchwork."

Found abandoned on the road through the Shadow-Cursed Lands amongst other belongings likely left by refugees. He's sure someone is missing it. He tries hard not to think about the shadow vestiges.

True Love's Caress: "The most pragmatic and courageous lover ever known was, of course, Sorcha MacTire, for whom the popular hairstyle is named, and for whom many an extremely sappy poem has been written (most of them comparing her to geography)."

One of a magical pair of rings connected by a warding bond, the other of which he never found. He's a romantic at heart, in his own way. The idea of it was sweet, anyways.

Barnabus' Collar: "Necklace the Gnoll Master gave Barnabus when she first met him."

He watched this creature tear itself apart, unable to fulfill its master's saccharine-voiced requests. Even a monster deserved better than to be twisted like that. It mattered that it had a name, even if it was given by her.

One Becomes Many: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

In each of us is more than what we are; Parts and multitudes that form our thoughts, desires, nature itself. Manifold are the creatures inside you- and what you can become when you speak my words is all your parts made manifest. Your weakness can become strength if it is made legion: quaking hearts can find courage in their numbers, the lowliest vermin can humble a goliath if they stand as an army, and a ruin can become a kingdom for one soul made many. Speak Itori mustag thrice. Become your finest self- all of them Raphael.

Perhaps he kept this one as a warning of what becomes of dealing with devils. Or, on the other hand, out of enticement. But maybe there was just something about a man so desperate to live that he split himself into a hoard of vermin- left to be the final wretched survivors worshiping at the ruined altar of spiteful god- that felt worth mourning.

Crumpled Note: "A plain, unadorned note."

Papa, I love you. LOVE FROM IZ

How quickly we lose things, he thinks, carefully folding one more note into a side pocket. How desperate we are to remember them as they were.

Arfur's Private Musings: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

[An unfinished love story, handwritten by Arfur Gregorio, whose name is attached to the bottom of every page.] Her ample bosoms fluttered like doves' fingers, brushing against his nails. The very ends of his moustache stood to attention as the fire stirred behind his eyes. No doubt this was love. Love, ah love! The stuff that dreams are made of. It made him sweat to think of it- the graceful, enduring, blossoming magnitude of what it all, the priceless, breathlesss, weightless, sheer romping joy of it..."

Sometimes you intimidate a 'philanthropist' into surrendering his house to squatting refugees, discover his involvement in an elaborate plot to kill a bunch of kids, scare him into skipping town, go through all of his shit, and keep his half-written smut as a hilarious trophy to fondly remember him by. You know. That universal experience that everyone has.

Guild Ring: "Calishite emeralds are embedded in this heavy silver ring"

A souvenir from past and present.

Inklings: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

[This novel is bookmarked on a page lined with markings; its reader seems to have underscored certain parts for emphasis] After all, there's no point in denying the undeniable, which, until that moment, I had obscured with the million minor tasks by which I measured my life. Yes, the polishing, the scrubbing, the pouring of wine and tea and deference into my master's cup- all of it had surrounded and obscured the essential truth of my life, like a phalanx now fallen. I had wasted my years, one by one, and now there were hardly any left to me at all.

Garlow's Retirement Plan: "This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink."

List of Things To Do: -Climb a tree -Have a truly exceptional sandwich -Spend a whole day reading -Visit Waterdeep -Get a massage -Swim in the Chionthar -Buy a new coat -Get a cat

Vestiges of Garlow. Reminders to live life and live it joyfully. To always notice how beautiful the sunset is, even when he sees it every night. To never take the gentle warmth of the sun on his skin for granted. Wherever that old man ended up, he hopes that he never stopped seeing how precious it all was. The clock won't stop, and this is what we get.

Dear Ansur: "A plain unadorned note."

Dear Ansur, I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again- there is no cure, and that's all right. I'm fine, more than fine, I'm better than I've ever been. So why torture yourself like this? Of course, I know why. Remember Yal Tengril? You and I sailed together for months, seeking the Great Spire. By the time we found it, we were sick as dogs. But you never left my side, not for a moment, even though you could have simply chosen to fly. You told me there was something about experiencing it with me- through my eyes- you wanted to share in my passion for the adventure. It was, you said, a privilege. The truth is, the privilege was mine. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me Ansur. I never had to ask you for anything, but I'm asking you now to stop. I may no longer feel my feelings, but I know yours, and yours are agony. It doesn't have to be this way. Be free, Ansur, Fly. And know that even if I'm not beside you, I will always have been your Balduran.

He's not better than he's ever been. He's sure of it. What would it be like, he wonders, to try to impress upon someone the profundity of a love he could only remember once feeling?

Yet here, the Emperor begs not just for its own life, but for Ansur's. Of course, that didn't matter in the end. But there's something about this that feels more real than the carefully presented facade he sees most often from it. There is an incurable humanity in the way it believes unfalteringly that it is right.

[kolbietheaggrievedwriter]

i just realised we were being very niren-centric, no attention on our darling guardian knight, elliot!! do you think he saw how shaky the handwriting was in the last letter? do you think he still wears the winter cloak that was specially made for him (that he reasons as much too practical to not wear!) ?

do you think he was confused why the courter had suddenly... stopped? there are so many reasons why he stopped, though the biggest one has to be "threatened". who do you think he'd suspect ????

i'm losing my mind... you win this time, kolbie. you win.

Yes to both!! Elliot has great instincts. I think he would maybe even be able to see this coming. Your worry, your guilt, your fear, your grim resolution. Our knight would pick up on it, even if he wouldn't be able to pin down the exact emotions or your intention. That's also the reason he would ever accept your gifts and your pursuit of both of them - he would sense your sincerity. Niren would likely trust you because of Elliot's good judgement, especially after Chel.

And of course he would wear the coat!! He was a street urchin and cast out bastard who still gets no love from his family. He would hold onto your gifts like a dog with a bone haha

He wouldn't suspect Chel. He doesn't know what she's capable of - he just senses her bad vibes lol But he might suspect his own family or any other noble family hoping to marry their daughters to the crown prince or at least snag his guardian knight. In this AU, my man would probably be even more suspicious and wary of other people - and determined to sniff out the truth.

[dragonbored]

15 and 2 for the oc ask for any ocs!

OMG HIII…. fallout mutual on the skyrim blog 😳 i don’t think i’ve ever seen you here. let’s seeee. as usual i shall do Ummm. all my ocs

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

azug would be hopeless with a plant, she’s not home/in one place nearly enough to maintain one. she could probably take care of a dog or cat but anything other than that would require too much specialized care for her. for a child… she could be a good parent, but again she’s not at a point in her life where she spends much time at home. if she did have a child, it would probably be an orphan she adopted, and sadly they may suffer from her not being home much — she would make sure people checked on the child and, with how shitty being an orphan in skyrim is, they would at least have a fairly nice home to live in, but she wouldn’t be very present for at least a few years

megana is the most responsible irresponsible person you’ve ever met. she can and does take care of plants (mostly alchemical ingredients she grows herself) and a pet (her rabbit, thistle). as for a child… hypothetically, she could take care of one, if she had to babysit or was otherwise saddled with one for a while, but she doesn’t have much interest in having her own. she’s more like the fun gay wizard aunt. except she’s an only child and has no close friends with children. yknow?

never trust antony with anything alive. he likes dogs and has had a couple in his life, but uh…… i just wouldn’t trust him with it

at the start of her story (since i, um, haven’t Started hers and thus cannot give insight as to the end of it), cirendil would easily be able to care for anything. other than herself of course

my mostly-joke-oc, friki, actually already cares for two dogs and one child with plans for more. granted, her current only child is a pickpocketing street urchin that is more than happy to be alone while friki wanders the country, but still. it works for them. she dgaf abt plants tho

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

azug doesn’t consider anything a waste of time. if you told her that bird in that tree was stuck she’d be up there in a heartbeat to save it. not because shes super empathetic for the bird or because she’s naive enough to believe it’s stuck, she just loves procrastinating and avoiding her responsibilities. something to distract her for a minute? great! sign her up!

megana considers many things a waste of time but *what* specifically depends on when you ask her, what she’s doing that day, and what her current biggest interest is. shes spent the last week and a half trying to create a new spell? get out of her face with your “vampire problem in the cave outside town,” wdym, she’s Busy

antony thinks life is a waste of time

cirendil also doesn’t think anything is a waste of time but that’s because she Does genuinely believe everyone truly needs/wants her help and. well. she doesn’t have anything better to do right now anyway

friki thinks everything is a waste of time and she LOVES wasting time

i used to have an actual format for answering asks…

thank you for the ask :3

[pixelizedprince]

I spent wayyyyy to much time to make this lore master post of everyone in Geo's family tree & who/how they fit into Geo's family ((including adopted family such as Cal/Lia/Rolan who get taken in as extended siblings and Arabella who comes and goes but is absolutely mentored/fostered by Geo and Gale))

Cringe zone infographic + info dump below the cut; I don't care how wotc lore works I have my own for a few things / its my dnd I get to be weird without their judgment 😔🤙

- Avaridan and Talessa died when Geo was just two or three (flash mudslide while out scouting for rarer flora for a client, accidents happen :( ) Viola and Geo were raised by their Grandmother Avasa.

- Avaridan and Talessa met around 16, married fresh at the start of their twenties and had Viola when they were late 30s --- ((Geo's father - Avaridan - was so quiet most thought he was mute, but he just wasn't a fan of speaking and the loudness was a bit much for him most of the time. Talessa ended up talking and being charming enough for them both. She was a teen from the streets of Baldur's Gate and was looking to take care of the other urchins. Stealing from other tieflings they would at least just hate you because you were a thief and not because of your horns. Talessa's charisma overflowed and even though Avaridan saw through her lies he could tell she was hurt/was just trying to help others not be sick anymore. They were quickly rocky best friends, Talessa doing most of the talking and him showing acts of gestures of kindness and helping out just because he was in a position where he could. Avasa was furious when she found of Avaridan has been not stealing/buying a bunch of the meds and giving it to her, while Dyneth was just touched by his son's kindness and welcomed her in to work for them to help her keep a paycheck and look after her lot. It was a messy start but eventually Avasa was proud of the person Talessa had become with some structure and support))

- Geo's grandfather Dyneth is a cambion who made a deal with some leader in hell, his eternal service as a guard dog of the hells as a trade for protection of the family/the hells not allowed to touch his lineage. This was after Avaridan and Talessa died. Geo never met him, Viola only has vague memories of him (made fuzzier from him only being there right before her parents died and then not being there anymore after they left) He is alive in the hells but has not had contact with the family since shortly after Avaridan and Talessa's passing/making this deal/getting dragged to the Hells. [This is also the reason why Geo/Vi are tiefling+, forked tongues, prehensile tails, all that bonus shit wotc says we can't have bc they are fucking cowards]

- Avasa started the family shop "Prosperity's Potions and Plants: Apothecary and Rare Flora Depot" in Baldur's Gate right after she married Dyneth, it has been a family run buisness since (at least 60+ years) Viola took over as owner when Avasa died two years before the events of BG3, but Geo and Vi have helped work/run it as long as they've been alive. Geo's interest initial interest in nature was due to this.

- Geo's sister Viola is five years older than Geo and has a tendency to be overprotective/overbearing on them. Geo and Viola still live in their family shop/home in Baldur's Gate together as of BG3.

- Geo has helped raise their niece Briony the last five years, Geo calls her "Little Minnow" she calls them "GeGe" Briony is very smart for her age,, if a bit spacey and pops the "old soul in a new body" type questions from time to time. She eventually becomes a soulknife rogue, and uses her abilities to work for what she deems moral causes ,, though she does love causing mayhem for the shits and giggles of it with her cousin Philomena. Briony's biological father is a fucking elf named fucking Donavan

- BOO HISS BOO all my friends HATE Donavan he's a drunk and a shit partner and an even worse "Dad",, Viola kicked his ass to the curb before Briony was even a year old. Avasa was alive for the ViolaDonavan courtship and she /HATED/ him. [I am very excited for Halsin to take over the father figure role for Briony even though he comes and goes so much]

- Viola and Halsin hit it off quickly when he meets her while adventuring with Geo during bg3, but Halsin has his extended commitments elsewhere. Viola and Halsin never marry, but they love eachother very much and do see eachother as soul mates. ("You can have more than one soul mate, why would your soul want you to be tied down? No Geo; Halsin is a good man, a great lover, and a wonderful father. When he is here with me I am elated, and when he leaves I miss him sure, but his heart is big, with mine and whomever else wants to share our joy.") Callum is born a good ten years after bg3, he is a calculating person and sees ten steps ahead of everyone else. He is calm, cool, collected and seems a bit full of himself but he really is just that self assured/radiates confidence. He is a circle of stars druid and eventually runs P:P&P

- After the events of BG3 Lia/Cal/Rolan do become like adopted siblings to Viola and Geo and are offered the Prosperity name. They build their own support system and do become a gaggle of snarky tief siblings. Cal and Lia both occasionally help out at P:P&P from time to time when Geo eventually moves to Waterdeep, Lia often running the supply trips out to the wilds to stock up (Geo's former expertise) and Cal helping with the crafting of potions/poultrices. Rolan and Geo talk almost as often as Viola and Geo do, they end up being very close even if they had a weird rivalry (mostly of Rolan's part) when they first met/Geo just kept being a fucking hero through and through. Rolan also has Gale as a wizarding peer and they bounce ideas off eachother regularly ("my brother in law owns Sorcerous Sundries, wow!")

- Raphael knows of Geo's grandpa Dyneth (might actually know know him) but doesn't know they are related (which fair, Geo didn't know the man either) -- but Raphael fucking /HATES/ the deal Dyneth managed to secure for the Prosperity line. Geo is unable to sign his contract and it makes him FURIOUS. (Geo doesn't know why they cannot take the deal but there is a physical stop to it. Geo also doesn't know that their dumb ass just handing out the family name and swearing familial bonds to people is also extending the protection /to/ them) [I'm allowed to have silly bogus lore as a treat]

- Arabella is /never/ formally adopted my Geo and Gale but Geo remains her friend and mentor and she has an open door policy with both the Baldur's Gate family home and the new Waterdeep Prosperity headquarters 💞✌ she stops by regularly as she can, and Mimi, Rosie and Tessa do all call her big sister

- Philomena, Mimi to her parents, Mena to her friends, you can call her Philomena; knows she's hot shit and smarter than you and she will tell you to your face that you're a fucking idiot. In my shared world state with my wife, her drow cleric Karina romances Astarion, and Astarion is very put off by Gale and Geo having kids "Oh Geo, with Gale? Really?! Ughh. Gods it'll never shut up." but he instantly gets mushy the first time he holds Mena. Astarion is the one to nickname her Mena when she's just a little little kid. And she is absolutely enthralled with her "Uncle Goose" "he's so funny and acts mean and pointy to everyone else but he always brings me sweets and knives, he's a silly Goose" She learns the bitchy part of her cocky attitude from someone 🙄 --- Mena and her cousin Briony become besties and are the most obnoxious tag team that will absolutely steal your wallet and claim you took their's for kicks... She ends up becoming a college of eloquence bard

- Geo and Gale get married a year after BG3, the husbands do make their home in Gale's tower, and but eventually get a family home outside of the tower when Primrose is born.

- Philomena (she/her; Mena, Mimi; oldest) , Primrose (she/her; Rosie; middlest, born five years after Mena), and Tessa (she/they; babiest, born two years after Rosie) are all born down the line starting five years post BG3; they are the Jewels of Waterdeep as Gale so lovingly(irritatingly) refers to them.

- Primrose is so sweet and quiet, whenever she speaks people pay attention/listen because its always thoughtful/insightful. Rosie is very laid back and is no where near high strung as Mimi, taking a lot after Geo's mellow attitude. She loves going out with Geo to scout/forage in the wilderness and has that gentle spooky little girl thing with understanding and appreciating death/a passion for bones. Rosie has very strong innate magical abilities that manifest while she's still young, eventually becoming a circle of spores druid.

- Tessa (she/they) is a ball of joy and curiosity, she is the spitting image of her Grandma Morena (albeit with horns) they are a goofy awkard bean pole of a kid and believes the best in everyone. She's kinda shit at magic, they know a lot about it, but fighting really isn't for them. Still young in my extended timeline for Geo's family, she doesn't know what her plan is yet, only that they are going to try a lot of things and see what feels fun. Tessa does like bothering her uncle Rolan and offers to work at Sorcerous Sundries part time to be around the books/learn as much as she can to which he sighs and says he couldn't be happier than to have her there in the same breath. She stays with Viola from time to time to learn about the family buisness and helps at P:P&P alongside Callum on occasion (he finds her, endearing and in need of some camomile tea, Tessa finds him and is playing 20 questions about how to make poison and what does turning into a star feel like)

[starry-bi-sky]

So after reading the writing attached to this post my brain is going SO hard over this idea. But a line that caught my attention is this one in particular:

"Instead, they saw the interaction for what it was - Danny had grown up a spy, and just like Damian had thrown his all into murder, Danny had thrown his all into spying, until everything he was - his expressions, his emotions, his body language, every aspect of communication down to the last detail - was exactly what he wanted it to be.

Meeting in any other circumstance, Tim would've taken him for just another Clark-type in the making. He was the perfect actor.

How long had he waited here, Tim wondered, molding himself into this for just a scrap of attention from the League? And after a full decade, how much of the real Danny was left?"

and i just? Maybe it's because i'm a sucker for identity crises in general but the urge to expand on that idea itself and go "how can i make this WORSE" is taking over my brain.

Now I know that this is from Tim's pov and Danny's pov contradicts it a lot -- he's become his own person in the ten years he's been gone and he's acting as he should -- but I'm just thinking about a what-if where Danny hadn't been sent to the Fentons when he was six, but when he was ten? nine? eight? However many years it is. But before that, when he'd been with the league he'd actually been sent on assignment after assignment. All focused on spying. So Danny is, as the quote describes, thrown himself into spying.

(this gets long so im sticking it under a 'read more')

And i'm thinking; Danny becoming "Daniel Fenton, son of Jack and Maddie Fenton" did not free him from that aspect of spying. It didn't free himself up to become his own person. to grow into his own (sort of). Being Danny Fenton was just another mask to wear that's glued itself onto him over time. There's a thin lining of plexiglass between the mask of Daniel Fenton and the boy beneath that you may just mistake one for another. Danny Fenton is the lie.

And while his love for the stars and his want to have a dog and his jokes are genuine, a lot of Danny Fenton is still just him playing a part. A part he's become very good at playing. Danny is picking and pulling at every little aspect of himself and moulding it into the perfect part he is supposed to play. He is a doll to be used as it should be.

And he never fully escapes that. And it only becomes worse when he's Phantom because now its another part he has to play. Danny has no obligation to the city of amity park. but his time there has allowed him to grow fond of some of the people there - most notably: jazz, sam, and tucker. (jack and maddie are still up in the air depending on how you view it). But he still protects it because "Daniel Fenton" (and perhaps a little of himself) is a good person at heart, and wants to help others.

(Daniel Fenton's obsession is to protect everyone. Danyal's obsession is to protect the ones he loves.)

The main meat of this idea however, and the big reason I made this reblog, however. Is that I want this to reflect in Danny's ghost form. A ghost form is dependent on a few things, although not everything may be applied: what they looked like how they were alive, their obsession, and their personality.

Danny before he died... doesn't really know who he is. He's not sure what is Danyal, twin of Damian Al Ghul, and what is everything else he has every played as: a street urchin, the son or nephew of an influential figure, the son of two mad scientists, the wimpy and nerdy school friend, etc. He doesn't know where Danyal begins and where his masks end. Daniel Fenton gets close, sometimes. But it's still not him.

The ghost hero Phantom is a reflection of a boy named Daniel Fenton. Shining white hair like a knight's white steed, a blinding smile, and witty, stupid puns. He's mischievous but harmless to the living. He is well meaning. That is the ghost Amity Park sees. And, largely, the ghost that Sam and Tucker see.

The Ghost of Danyal is... however.... ever changing. Draped in shadows that is constantly ever shifting and vaguely resembling his league of assassins uniform. He is big, he is small, he's whatever you need him to be. His voice echoes and distorts, as if its not quite sure what it sounds like, like its constantly tuning itself to whoever he's speaking to. His eyes are blue -- or maybe its green? It's hard to tell sometimes, and you really never see Danyal's face under the shadowy hood he wears. Sometimes it feels like he's wearing one of those old venetian masks that cover not only the eyes, but the mouth and nose.

Sometimes you can see his smile. Lit up and fanged. his smiles feel threatening when you can't ever see his face. It changes to whatever face he wants or needs. Whenever his hands peek out of his shadows it reveals fingers that are long and sharp, curling at the ends as if they're ready to slice into whatever thing its closest to.

His cape of shadows glisten occasionally -- flowing whenever he moves. Many times its like he's wearing shadows, but when it glistens its like he's wearing stars. The few glimpses you ever see of the boy beneath. It makes him look bulkier than he is, casting a silhouette of a beastly thing. Danyal -- Danny -- feels like a monster in this form.

The form and core of a ghost is dependent on many things: their death, their obsession, the way they looked in life, their personality, their likes and dislikes.

Because of this. Danny is an unstable ghost. He is powerful, yes, but unstable. An identity crisis is as dangerous to a ghost as a bullet wound is to a human. Identity is everything to a ghost, and danny's not sure what his is. he's capable of being 'Phantom' a lot of the time. But... he slips. Sometimes. And that 'true' form. That shadowy, amorphous boy draped in shadows to make himself scarier than he actually is, to protect himself and his family, slips through.

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

[cobra-creampuff]

lately I've been thinking about young izzy in a marriage of convenience. a land marriage, legal in the eyes of the king and all. so. to a woman.

the convenience aspect being like. maybe her father is sick and probably about to die, and she knows that the shop she runs and the house she lives in will be inherited to her shitty uncle or whoever. and he probably won't close the shop or kick her out of the house, but it won't be the same.

she knows izzy from Around, and he's disreputable but he's never been after her That Way and she's seen him share food with strays (both children and dogs) so he seems like a safe enough bet. so she asks him to marry her so that he'll inherit her father's property, and functionally speaking it will still be hers.

it's an arrangement of mutual benefit: she gets to keep her house, and he gets to live in it.

so anyway they get married, and she breaks the heart and izzy wounds the pride of all the merchant boys who thought they would get this particular girl. (an added bonus to both of the newlyweds lol.)

now. we all know izzy's gay. but! turns out she's gay too.

and unlike with stede and mary, they actually both have equal desire to make this thing work.

izzy has no particular desire to run away and have a grand adventure, he just wants to keep having a roof over his head and three meals a day and a bedmate he's reasonably sure won't stab him in his sleep.

and she chose this, chose him, so really it'd just be poor follow through on her part if she didn't put in any effort to make sure neither of them is miserable with the result.

not to mention, with no particular expectation that either of them fulfill their role perfectly - not applied externally or internally - they're free to form a genuine (if unconventional) friendship.

but it can be a little lonely, if you're not built for it, to be in a necessarily fidelitous marriage without that specific kind of intimacy that comes with sex and romance. and they really do love each other, in the way that they do, so they kind of end up... missing each other, while working the same shop and eating at the same table and sleeping in the same bed.

it's her idea first, the solution they come to. it's not totally on a whim, she's been thinking about it. how to make a real marriage bed into something they could actually want together, so that they can have it.

(and. maybe. maybe she was thinking about it a little bit before that. deep down. for reasons completely unrelated to him. before she even really new him as anybody other than the local street urchin. perhaps somewhere around puberty or so.)

she cuts her hair. she borrows some of his clothes. she uses makeup to thicken her brows, give herself some sideburns and a little patch of beard. she copies his body language, practices speaking from the back of her throat to lower her voice.

and - wonder of wonders - it works.

she kind of figured she'd be taking an L with this, just making herself attractive to him while thinking of England herself, but it turns out she actually does kind of want him back, like this. or maybe it's just electrifying to be wanted by him when he hasn't wanted her like this before.

(or maybe she wants to have sex with it doesn't matter who because she feels so different in her body in such a good way, and she likes him, and he's there.)

so that becomes something of a routine. it's not all the time, not even particularly often. but every now and then, she'll disappear into their closet, and she'll emerge in his clothes with kohl on her face, and she'll gently rib the very concept of masculinity, and he'll laugh, and they'll have sex.

pretty tough not to have your egg cracked in an environment like that. especially when you can subconsciously convince yourself that you have an expectation to fill. that it's only fair if you do it too. reciprocity. it's the honorable thing.

(he's been thinking about it too, for longer than he knows. not quite as long as she has, because he had more pressing issues back then, but nearly.)

she's a little bit broad and he's a little bit slight, so it's just as easy for izzy to fit into her clothes as it is for her to fit into his.

he shaves his beard and his chest hair, and he struggles valiantly with a corset by himself because he wants to surprise her like she surprised him, but eventually he has to give up that ghost and go and ask her to help.

he's laced her up dozens of times now, hundreds, and he never realized how intimate it is when he was on the other side. it makes him feel small, delicate but supported. ...cherished.

he goes quiet, as close to meek as someone with a personality as big as his can get, while she helps him into the rest of the outfit. the underskirt, the bodice, the dress. they forego stockings and shoes. they'll just get in the way.

she tells him he looks very pretty, he tells her to fuck off, she laughs, they have sex.

so they start trading off. sometimes they'll both be men, and sometimes they'll both be women. and sometimes they don't even have sex about it, they just enjoy being gay married or go on secret little dates. sometimes they're pretending, for fun and convenience.

sometimes they're not.

[goldenlaquer]

REQUESTS OPEK??!?!?!;&@, I JUST WOKE UO IM NOT REAUD UM UN UHH UM

may i request Gintoki with a gn reader who just LOVES to spoil him and make him food but at some point just. stops and doesnt say why and while gintoki doesnt want to sound like "hey wheres my food☹️" he is lowkey wondering if they are mad at him and does a bunch of stuff to try make it up to them. rither like cooking himself or spending more time with them yknow?

but in reality its just that money got tight for a bit and they were embarrassed to say they were spending so much on gin lmao

sorry if thats like all over the place! love you lots professor💚

The way you always come as soon as I open requests, It's like you're in my walls 🥺🚓

Sakata Gintoki Headcanons:

Majority of his life, Gintoki been used to going without comforts, some way or the other. Warm clothes. Fresh underwear. Food. Good food, especially. And it ain't been all so bad since he started the Yorozuya. You can always catch a meal from behind Snack Otose's bar before the old lady catches you by the ear and tosses you out like a dirty mongrel. You can always dip your head in the fountain at the local park to gulp down some cold water. You can always get your 14-year old coworker to stand in a corner and beg for some spare change for your strawberry parfait at your favorite cheap family-style joint.

Point is, you put a street urchin anywhere, and he finds a way to survive.

Theoretically.

So what actually does him in is meals, hot meals, three times a day, seven days a week. The dining table these days is actually creaking, heavily set with the weight of those little side dishes. Side dishes. Gintoki now is getting choices with his meals. And after a delicious meal, then comes dessert. Not just any dessert— strawberry parfait. A tall glass dish filled brim with his favorite sweet, pushed under his nose with a sweeter kiss to his temple before you're happily clearing the rest of the dishes to the sink.

Gintoki has gained ten pounds since loving you.

Until he's suddenly back to square one, ten pounds lighter, back to three-way chopstick fights over every rotten grain of rice, back to scavenging in Sadaharu's dog feed bag, back to harassing Otose's rice cooker, back to swishing fountain water through his teeth to line his never-quite-satisfied stomach.

It's not his first rodeo, but this time, hitting the ground is harder than he remembers.

It's not about the food. In the past few days, you haven't even been looking at him in the eyes, while ladling a fourth of the food that you usually serve into his chipped bowl. Have barely peeped a few words, except murmured thank you for the meal's before quietly eating your portion, smaller than everyone else's. You've kissed him less, hugged him less. The Yorozuya doesn't carry your scent anymore, you're hardly there.

You're ignoring him, he's concluded. Gintoki knows, knows he's pissed you off because Sakata Gintoki always pisses everyone off at some point. You're sick of a lazy, no-good guy like him, he knows it. He knows it.

Fuck, he hasn't missed any anniversaries. On your third month together, he pissed your name in the snow in front of the Yorozuya! If that isn't the most ardent declaration of love, he doesn't know what is! On your birthday, he gave you a DIY, a lovely sculpture! And told you to use it when he's gone! And his performance in bed— no, that definitely can't be it. He puts his back into it! His dicking is flawless. S-tier!

Shinpachi suggests gifting you the newest Otsuu-chan CD. An advice expected of a cherry boy, damn him.

Kagura is more helpful— she's seen it all before. Papi always swallowed his pride and kneeled in the dirt and begged.

And so, Gintoki kneels in the dirt and begs.

And he says something not worth repeating. Blah blah blah blah I miss you blah blah blah blah don't leave blah blah blah blah You don't have to do anything blah blah blah blah just stay blah blah blah blah I love you or whatever blah blah blah blah.

And you're wrapping your arms around his prostrated head, maybe in tears, saying something like money was running short, you were out looking for a job that's why you weren't at the Yorozuya more often, and something like you were embarrassed to face him— which is the most ridiculous bullshit he's ever heard because look at him while he's wiping your tears away with a rough hand, you idiot— you're dating the sorriest, the poorest bastard in Edo! Getcher ass home so we can eat dinner.

And dinner that night— even with four pairs of chopsticks and one paw fighting over the last shriveled dog kibble— has never tasted better.

Happily ever afterrrr