#bold to assume he’s survive but I trust him

[potato-lord-but-not]

I love how in Arthur and his 3 boyfriends™, Noel is the calmest and chilliest one. He is just vibing, just resting, while Oscar speedrunning his catholic guilt (sometimes he stumbles, but it's okay), John discovering the wonders of human bodies and society (imagine John's first visit to the doctor) and Arthur being Arthur (there is........ too much to unpack) and Noel is just there.

Which is even more funnier, considering that he essentially got the malevolent plot but with all the wrong stuff(Dead partner? check. Meeting with eldritch god going really wrong? check. Spending time in pits and torture? check.)

He is too cool for this world, love him for that

he truly is the holder of the single brain cell they share. all day everyday holding Arthur and John on leashes like feral children and holding Oscar’s hand while he just kinda stands there politely. they all would actually be in shambles without him.

And honestly…. consider… Noel could’ve been Kayne’s first choice of a silly guy to do his dirty work.. until he found a more pathetic guy to push around. JUST SAYING. CONSIDER.

[meanbossart]

Just gotta say that the way you draw facial expressions is soooo dynamic, and your art makes me grin with equal feral glee when I see it. 🥰

I love your spooky smiley deranged durge, will you tell me more facts about them?

Thank you so much! And YES i certainly can uuhhh lets see

-In my personal canon he has no name, having first assumed to have forgotten it along with everything else and later being told/figuring out that he renounced any in favor of being called Bhaalspawn, Slayer, Death Bringer, Bhaaling, and any number of edgy titles we hear throughout the game lol he did this pre-tadpole to emphasize his birth-right and deny himself any personal identity. He never picked a name for himself post-tadpole and everyone just refers to him as The Drow, Astarion also calls him his usual pet names.

-He's not necessarily one for luxuries but still likes pretty, ostentatious things, especially jewelry. Pre-tadpole DU drow wore them generously, post-tadpole doesn't understand his own fascination, but he likes wearing rings and holds some sentimentality for specific pieces. (he never threw away the "magic" ring he stole from the tiefling child in act 1)

-Every expression of love and affection he had pre-tadpole came out pretty twisted, but with this in mind he very much adored Orin, though you would never guess it from seeing how they interacted with each other.

-The patterned scars on his chest, face and neck were mostly self inflicted (the rest he had Orin's help for). The one's on his arms were an "accident" kinda but he still put them there willingly (and gleefully lol)

-He has a borderline irrational hatred for drow women. He hates drows in general, though mostly because they're uptight and snobby and less so because of, yknow, all the slavery and child killing etc.

-Despite looking evil as hell he's very much morally neutral post-tadpole. He's pretty much a "do what you have to do to survive" kind of guy - and sometimes a "because i want to" kind of guy lol.

-He thinks very highly of himself which makes him overly bold. This got him through the whole campaign and destroying the brain but it also makes him a huge liability LOL its also a source of conflict in his and Astarion's relationship because he lowkey doesn't think Astarion can make it without him - he continuously and completely fails to realize how this is an issue.

-The only other people he has respect for and trusts are Shadowheart, Astarion and Jaheira. Ironically these are all people he didn't get along with well at all at the start.

-He's kind of a hopeless romantic, he's just weird about it. He's pretty much picked Astarion as his person and kind of devotes his life to him now, sometimes to a troubling extent.

-I'm writing a whole story that takes place post-game here where you can gleam a lot more about his character and learn things that i can't share yet because it would be a spoiler hint hint nudge nudge

[asterbats]

Starfallification GTI edition... It's these guys....

Design/Story/Headcanon rambles below!

Virizion

Name: Aramis

Pronouns: She/It

Design Ramblings:

-Her colors are a little dull to imply a sense of melancholy. Kind of a hint that she's not exactly healthy.

-Has a battle scar on her face from one of its escapades pre-GTI

-Has a friendship necklace with Keldeo. She only starts to wear it again in the postgame.

Headcanons/Tweaks:

-Doesn't go by Aramis until far later. Insists on the more distant "Virizion" until the Great Glacier arc

-Because this is an alternate timeline where humans went extinct, the Swords of Justice never became a steady group, so there is no formal quartet. Aramis does not know her own Terrakion and Cobalion.

-She does, however, know Keldeo, of course. There was no sort of mentor/student relationship between the two, they were childhood friends and used to spar frequently. Aramis was a shy child while Keldeo was more bold, so he helped bring her out of her shell. The two had a "he talks enough for the both of us" sort of dynamic. He infodumps and it listens.

-Has always struggled with deep self esteem issues, as she doesn't feel she's particularly likable.

-It actually did know about Keldeo's entercard capabilities, which was how it recognized Umbreon and Espeon as entercard users back in the day. It was very disturbed to see Keldeo's entercard markings in the Great Glacier.

-Didn't expect to find Noodle and Parker as enjoying as they were. She honestly expected to see Parker as a pest. But she found them more and more endearing as time went on and eventually sought out their company on her own very consistently. She’s in a QPR with them.

-She's very expressionless and aloof, which leads Pokemon to assume that she has no real feelings, especially as she rejects all of them. She was like this even before Keldeo sent the letter, but it got worse afterwards, of course. She's very blunt and honest as well, not seeing the point in sugarcoating anything. Because of this, she gets along well with Espeon.

-Feels the most conflicted about their child, as its worried that they will resent her for being aloof and avoid her. Or that they would see her for "what she truly was". But their child loves and looks up to her a ton, which does make her feel better.

Emolga

Name: Parker (Insists on Emolga)

Pronouns: He/It

Design Notes:

-So when I was younger, I always figured that Emolga kinda presented himself as a superhero? Because he swoops in to save Dunsparce in Stompstump Peak, he always sticks up for the little guy, and he's very vain and outspoken. The wings also lended well to that, since they look like a cape. So I wanted to lean into that!

-He's mixed with both Theivul (for the mask, tail, and extra brown color) and Boltund (for the wavy fur and eyes).

Story/Headcanons:

-When Parker was younger, it was abandoned by its parents, and no one was willing to take the orphan in, so he had to steal food to survive.

-It was every Pokemon for itself, so Parker never grew close to other Pokemon. Due to his small size and power, he was usually harassed for what little items he had, so he never trusted anyone.

-When he was a teenager, however, he ran into Noodle. The little snake was being bullied for their money by another group of Pokemon, and was frantically trying to empty his pockets. Emolga typically would have just ignored it to save his own skin... but watching the Pokemon mock Dunsparce and berate him for not having more food, and the sheer desperation and tears in the snake's face, something in him snapped, and he swooped in to defend the Dunsparce, fighting off the Pokemon. He intended to leave soon after, but Noodle insisted on taking care of his wounds and giving the Emolga a place to stay. After that, he and Noodle were best friends.

-Parker stopped stealing after that incident- it didn't want to stay in that lifestyle anymore after seeing how honest Noodle was. Unfortunately, this meant going hungry, so he would often go into Mystery Dungeons to get supplies for them- eventually becoming a stronger fighter for it. This inspired Noodle to want to be a treasure hunter themself, although they got lost very easily- Parker would have to look for them more often than not. Not that he didn't take pride in that... he let that ego go to his head. He loved providing for the smaller Pokemon, sure, but he also craved the notoriety.

-Holds a grudge very easily. You call him a rat and he will remember that decades down the line. He finds it hard to forgive

-Despite his size, he knows how to impose himself. Its got a naturally loud voice and he usually perches himself on high ledges so he stands over people.

-He has a massive heart, though. He adores his partners and will lay himself on the line for them. He also fawns over their child a lot.

-Was the closest to Eris out of the gang for a while, besides Kiran. It taught Eris how to handle his electricity and take care of his new body properly.

Dunsparce

Name: Noodle

Pronouns: They/He

Design Notes:

-Wears a reunion cape given to them by Kiran so they don't get lost as often!

Headcanon/Story notes:

-Was always picked on for being a weaker Pokemon. Because of this, they were rather withdrawn from others, and never put up a fight against larger Pokemon- they just didn't want any trouble.

-Took Parker into their home once he saved them from a group of Pokemon that was harassing them, and the two became fast friends. Parker jokingly called them a "noodle" because of how wobbly they'd get when they were scared, and the name stuck.

-Parker inspired them to want to become an explorer... but unfortunately, they never had the strength for it. He would go into dungeons on his own, and Parker would have to swoop in and save him.

-At first, they admired Aramis for its strength, and thought that if they could only become stronger, they would be liked as well as she was. But when they both joined Paradise, they broke her walls down, and saw her for who she truly was- warts and all. And they appreciated her more and more every day for it.

-Actually fell into a more strategizing/organizer role as the events of the game went on. They came into their own as a fighter and explorer and can hold their own in a fight now, but ended up finding a lot of comfort in taking care of others.

-It was their idea to adopt their kid. The trio had found the egg in a dungeon and Noodle pushed and pushed to raise the child as their own.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Tin Can (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary: A battle didn't go as planned when someone ran you over with full force. Realizing his mistake, a certain Mandalorian made it his mission to bring you to safety.

Warnings: none, i think (it's been a while since i last tagged my fics), language and humor?

The deafening battle around you restricted your hearing. While you felt your heartbeat thumping in your ears, you couldn't discern anything else. A huge disadvantage during a fight. Your periphery allowed you to notice bodies flying all over the place. It was only a matter of time until they reached you. They? Who were they anyway? At this point, you were completely clueless. Who could you trust and, most importantly, who should you attack?

Natural instinct yelled at you to turn around and so you did. Unfortunately, your reflexes weren't qualified enough to dodge the next blow. And shit, that hurt. Whoever had the brilliant idea to choose you as their next victim sure packed one hell of a punch. For a second, breathing was nearly impossible. Lungs felt as if someone was squeezing them. Your head shook briefly to rid yourself of the sudden dizziness.

One hand lifted itself to your face to shield your eyes from the blasting suns painting the sky. Once the dark spots blurring your vision faded, you could focus again. The figure in front of you received sharp edges and clear lines. You made out who exactly was in front of you. It might not have been your smartest move, yet you couldn't help but scoff.

"Is that all you got, tin can?" you groaned through gritted teeth, brushing off the sand as you got back on your feet.

"I'm a Mandalorian." echoed his deep voice. While his helmet limited your sight of his face, the position of his visor, the slight tilt, betrayed him. Status, you answered in your head, connecting the dots. He wanted you to view him as some higher-up.

You eyed him from head to toe, eyebrows raising in the process. "Well...obviously."

"You aren't scared." though it was a statement rather than a question, you could sense the confusion in between the lines.

"Are you about to kill me?"

"...No?"

"Why should I be scared then?" you left him speechless. A smirk spread over your lips, satisfied to have this effect on him. "Besides..." you paused shortly, redirecting your line of sight. "Somebody traveling with a green little guy doesn't look all too intimidating to me."

"He could easily kill you."

"Hm." you pretended to think really hard. "Guess I'm lucky then, huh?"

"Are you aware of the battle around you or-?" a smile was detectable in his words.

"Oh, very much so. Thanks by the way." you motioned to your side, signaling that he did, in fact, hurt you while running you over.

"You can't just stand in a battlefield."

"Bold of you to assume I was just standing there without doing shit." you mumbled.

A loud explosion to your right gained your attention. Exchanging a quick glance, a silent, unspoken promise was established. Nodding your head, more for yourself than for anyone else, you positioned yourself with your blasters at the ready. It was only then when you scarily concluded that, next to a Mandalorian, you were as good as dead. Hell, you didn't even have a single piece of armor while he was decked with beskar. Whole body protected with the confidence of staying unharmed. Long story short: you were screwed.

Nobody was running towards you so you took the chance to speak up.

"Um? Tin can?"

"What?" he appeared more than pissed at your silly nickname but you had no time to elaborate on that right now. If you survived, he wouldn’t hear the end of it, though. That much you’d make sure of.

"You don't happen to have any more of that armor, do you?"

His shoulders visibly tensed and, as if he hadn't spared a second thought to it before, he faced you with shock. There weren't many options. You could fight and risk your life. Though, risking in that context meant a full-blown suicide mission. You could use the Mandalorian as a shield. Or...you could run. As much as you despised the latter, it seemed like the most logical choice. A modulated voice from your left halted your inner turmoil.

"Follow me." it wasn't a question. Not a suggestion, either. It was a demand. And though you did find humor in this situation, you were the first one to admit that you were scared. Terrified, even.

He sprinted off, making sure to cast one last glance over his shoulder, silently signaling to you to follow his footsteps. You didn't need to be told twice. Trailing close behind the dents his heavy boots left in the sand, you eventually reached a spaceship. His, you figured. The model wasn't the newest or most progressive one you had seen but it was better than nothing. Thick metal doors unsealed in front of you and allowed you a first glimpse inside. Quickly, you walked up the ramp into what you hoped to be a safe place. At least for the time being. Only when the doors shifted and locked themselves could you relax and breathe freely again.

You were about to start a mundane conversation to dissolve the tension but before you had the chance to utter the first word, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor ungracefully. A sharp hiss left your tight lips. It was enough for the Mandalorian to focus solely on your hunched figure. He didn't quite know what to do or how to handle the situation. Awkwardly he got to a kneeling position and extended his hands, without having the intention to actually touch you.

"I'm fine." you breathed out, shutting your eyes.

"Mhm." his acknowledgment sounded funny through the barricade of his helmet. Maybe you were turning insane. Or maybe, and that was more plausible, you were simply close to falling unconscious. Apparently, the pain was worse than you had originally thought.

"Hey." it was his voice again, cutting through the white noise buzzing around you. Your eyes snapped open, shaken out of your reverie. "There you are." he mumbled and were it not for your surroundings to be eerily quiet, you'd have missed it.

Swimming the fine line between passing out and staying awake, you barely perceived his skilled glove-covered hands working on your injury. No internal bleedings and no fractioned ribs. Though they were badly bruised and sprained. Time was what you needed now. There was no way you were able to waltz out of his ship without any problems. Not for a few weeks. The Mandalorian, after carefully carrying you to his usual sleeping place, released a long, exhausted sigh. Making sure that you were out cold, he stripped his helmet over his head. He placed it on the small table next to him. His hands ruffled through his hair, going through every possibility. Sure, he could bring you somewhere safe, somewhere you could rest before heading out into the vast galaxy again. At the same time, there was guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach. Were it not for him attacking you, which was uncalled for he now realized, you wouldn’t have been injured in the first place. To make things even, he planned on keeping you around for a while longer. Just until you were fully healed again.

Whining sounds ripped you from your dreamless sleep. The first sensation you were aware of was the throbbing in your side. Slowly, bits and pieces of the day before returned to you. Blinking away the tiredness, you took in the room you were occupying. Still the ship the Mandalorian offered for your safety. Rolling your head to your side, too afraid to worsen the pain if you moved too much, you released a surprised gasp. The little green guy from yesterday, you noted. He couldn’t actually kill you, right? That statement was merely a joke…right?

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” the now familiar modulated voice redirected your attention. Wearing that much armor all day long must be tiring.

“Thank you.” you choked out, realizing that your throat was uncomfortably dry. The man hovering above you silently dismissed you. “No. I mean it. Thank you.”

“For what?” a pained chuckle could be heard. “Hurting you?"

“Well.” slow movements brought you to a sitting position. But not without a few moans of displeasure. “There was a battle going on. It was hard to figure out who was on which side. I’d have attacked you too if I were to see you first.”

“Yeah?” you could practically see his raised eyebrows and the features of disbelief under the helmet.

“No.” you admitted right away. “I’d have turned around to run away. You really think I’d fight against all of…this?” arms flailed around you, motioning to the man who stopped whatever he was doing to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out how smart you actually are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you didn’t even try to hide how offended you were.

“You were in the middle of a battlefield.” he pointed out, leaning his body against a nearby wall, arms crossing over his chest. “Without any form of protection.”

“I had m-“ your weak attempt got cut off by his much stronger voice.

“Don’t say you had your blasters with you. These things?” long strides made their way over to where he positioned all your stuff the previous night. He picked one of your weapons up, turning it around in his hands before putting it back to its previous place. “The fact that they’re even called blasters-“

“Excuse me, I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t have the credits to buy fancy weapons or armor.”

“That has nothing to do with being a Mandalorian.” he cleared up, thinking you cared for whatever reason he was about to present to you.

“Who cares?” strangely, you felt the need to defend yourself in front of him. Like you had to come up with excuses why you didn’t own everything that was part of his day to day life. “Whatever…Thanks again for letting me stay. I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh no. You can’t.” his words stopped you in your tracks. Raised eyebrows showed that you were awaiting an explanation. “Your ribs are sprained. You haven’t seen the bruises yet. They’ll get worse in the next few days. You should stay until you’re healed.”

“No.” there was no way you would stay here with a stranger. It wasn’t like the circumstances of your meeting were overly pleasant. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Not sure how to reply, the Mandalorian simply watched as you tried to stand up with your own strength. He expected you to be in more pain than yesterday. That was the way of those injuries. They didn’t just vanish after some hours. No matter how you tended to them. Feeling his eyes, well…his visor, on you, your head snapped up. If looks could kill, he’d have turned to ashes right here.

“Come on. Say it.” you urged while rolling your eyes.

“Just stay here until you’re no longer in pain.”

“How am I supposed to trust you, huh?” your head tilted to one side in contemplation. “You were the one who hurt me, after all.”

“Five minutes ago, you said I couldn’t have known who the enemy was.”

“Five minutes ago, I didn’t know that I didn’t like you.” it was childish bickering, you were aware. But the frustration cursing through your body got the best of you and you couldn’t swallow down your emotions.

“You don’t have to like me.” the Mandalorian started. “The second you feel better, I’ll bring you back there. Or wherever you want to go.”

“Hm.” considering his offer, you ultimately agreed on it. Still, you would stay cautious. “Deal. Just one more question.”

“Go for it.”

“Tame your green child. I don’t wanna have it wake me up.”

“I can do that.” an unfamiliar noise reached your ears. He was laughing. “Anything else?”

“I’m (Y/N).” it dawned on you that you hadn’t introduced yourself properly.

“Alright, (Y/N).” he tested how your name rolled off his tongue. He’d have lied if he said he didn’t enjoy the sound of it. “Yell if you need anything. I’ll be in the cockpit.”

“Wait!” you yelled after him before his figure could vanish behind a corner. Turning around yet again, he came to a halt, his body language giving nothing away. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Um.” there was an inner argument going on, you could tell. “Just Mando is fine.”

“Mando?” now it was your turn to try his name. “You know what? I prefer tin can.”

“Whatever.” his eyes rolled in the back of his skull and you couldn’t see it but you could picture it.

A small smile made its way onto your face. Maybe it won’t be too bad to stay here for a while.

~cathy <3

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Tale of Stolen Hearts: Chapter I - How Stealing One Thing Led You to More Than You Bargained for

Summary: You meet General Aleksander Kirigan in an unusual circumstances. You steal something from him. To get out of this mess, you're forced to travel with him all the way to Fjerda. You don't take a liking to each other, but you become stuck with each other for some time. During these weeks, you slowly start to understand each other more… and feel something. Together, you face many dangers but you prevail. But will you succeed in your mission? And will your fragile heart survive the closeness of one handsome General of the Second Army?

A/N: I have returned! With the promised fanfic about General KiriganxReader. It took me longer than I thought, but I had a lot of distractions. But it is here now and I really hope you will like it. Happy reading! As usual, I don't own anything from "Shadow and Bone". Also, remember I didn't read the books (yet?). And English isn't my first language, so if you see some mistakes, let me know.

Chapter Summary: What happens when you steal from the most powerful man in Ravka?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader

Word Count: 3936

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550833/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533161/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533260/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533275/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533209/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533284/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550815/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533242/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533271/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089554932/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

It's night. Caryeva is mostly deserted. Darkness holds the city in its hold and does not want to let it go. It's perfect time for various of criminals and people with dark intentions to walk the streets. Since this is exactly what you're doing, does that make you a bad person? You'd argue about it.

Shadows are your friends. You feel more at ease in them than in the light. Easier to hide, easier to disappear. But you don't think you're a bad person. But you know you're not a good person either. However, the guy that suddenly shows up next to you probably is.

'Money or your life?' he snarls, pressing the gun in his hand to the side of your head. You laugh.

'Bold of you to assume that I want to live,' you say. 'And that I have money.'

The man looks at you, confused. You turn your head. Moonlight shines on your face. The man looks at you, horrified. You sigh inwardly.

Here we go…

'Miss Elizabeth [L/N]!' the man stutters and pulls away the gun from you. You stop yourself from sighing for real. This situation? It's not the first time.

You often get mistaken for your twin sister. It never used to bother you, but now that she's become the most dangerous crime boss in the city it's starting to get awkward. But sometimes, like tonight, it can be useful.

'Scram,' you say to the man, your eyes ice cold. The man is gone in a second. You sigh heavily and continue on your way. You stop a few minutes later in front of one of the bars. You enter it and at once are attacked by sounds and smell of alcohol.

'From all the places…' you say, scrunching your nose. You take a deep breath and get into the crowd of drunk people. Every hand that gets near you gets immediately slapped. Finally, you reach a table occupied by one man. His hair is blonde, eyes are blue and his smile is dazzling.

'Hey, [Y/N],' he says and gets up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 'Glad you could make it.'

'I did, Dominic, but next time please pick a different venue,' you ask, looking around you with disgust. 'This place is horrible.'

'Trust me, it's still not the worst place I could think off,' Dominic says, grinning. 'What's your poison?'

'You know very well I'm not here for drinks,' you say, giving him a look. Dominic sighs and raises his hands in surrender.

'Fine, fine,' he says and sighs. 'Sometimes you're not fun at all.'

'You know I'm in a hurry,' you say. 'So? What do you have for me?'

Dominic's eyes shine. He grins.

'Oh, you're gonna love it,' he says. 'Do you know who have arrived to our city? Grisha. And not just any Grisha. They are from the Little Palace.'

'Are they having something valuable with them?' you ask. Dominic nods.

'Some very important pendant,' he answers. 'Apparently, a Saint gave it to one of the Grisha. Don't ask me which Saint and which Grisha, I didn't listen. I hear only words: important, pendant, expensive.'

'I hope you also heard where it is being held,' you say. Dominic presses a hand to his chest in a mock offense.

'Have I ever failed you?' he asks. You raise your eyebrow at him.

'Do you really want me to answer that question?' you ask. Dominic is silent for a moment.

'Fair enough,' he says finally, shrugging. 'So? Did I meet your expectations?'

'I'll tell you once I get this pendant,' you answer. 'Tell me what I need to know.'

'The Grisha are staying in our very fancy hotel,' Dominic says.

'I feel for them,' you say.

'Yeah, I know. Anyway, the pendant is in a room 222.'

'Doesn't sound fancy.'

'Did you expect more from our hotel? The pendant should be kept in a drawer. I think it was next to the bed.'

'You think?'

'Yeah. Also, there's some party tomorrow night and all Grisha from the hotel are going to be there. I'd say it's a perfect for a little theft.'

'I say. Well done. Just tell me one thing. Did you gather all of that information while having sex?'

'Why do you think that?'

'By the lack of some information. It sounds like you were… preoccupied to remember them.'

'… I won't deny nor confirm it.'

'… You're such a dork. Thanks for it.'

'Yeah, no problem. Good luck with that… and that other thing.'

Dominic looks at you with compassion. You stare at him for a moment. You force a smile.

'Thanks,' you say and stand up. You pay him for his trouble and hurry out of the bar. No need to stay there longer than necessary. Once outside, you breath in the fresh air. Or at least fresher.

'Hello, lady,' a drunk man says, staggering toward you. 'Are you up for some fun?'

'Not tonight, sorry,' you answer, scaring him with a knife to his throat, and grin. 'But tomorrow… tomorrow is gonna be full of fun.'

*

You watch the hotel from the shadows. After a few minutes you walk to the back door and open it using your tools. You hear a click and smirk. You open the door and sneak inside. After locking the door behind you, you look around. You hear voices of the hotel service but they're far away. No one is around.

You take off your coat, revealing clothes of hotel service. You hide your coat, straighten up and walk forward, acting like you belong here. A moment later you're between the staff. You bump into someone.

'Oh, sorry,' you apologise and continue on your way. And just like that you have keys to hotel rooms. You quickly grab some hotel cart with cleaning supplies and make your way to an elevator. You press the button for floor number two and wait. Soon the door opens and you step outside.

You look around the corridor and head toward room 222. After finding it, you use the keys you snatched and open the door. You enter it and cautiously look around. But like Dominic said, no one is inside.

'Perfect,' you murmur and push the cart inside, then close the door behind you. 'Now, if I were to stash something valuable, where would I hide it?'

You leave the cart by the door and start snooping around. Remembering Dominic said the pendant is probably in a drawer next to bed, you head toward it. The room is nothing fancy, same as the bed. There's a cupboard next to it with three drawers. All of which are locked.

'Do I have the key or do I not have the key?' you murmur to yourself, checking the keys. 'Of course, I don't. The fun way, then.'

You take out your tools and start working on the locks on the drawers. Soon you're checking them one by one. No pendant in any of them. You sigh and look around the room, searching for any more furniture with drawers. Your eyes fall on a chest of drawers at the other end of the room.

'Let's try this one,' you say and hurry to the piece furniture. You unlock the drawers with your tools and start checking their contents. In the third one you find a black box that could be used to put a piece of jewellery inside it. You open it… and you find a gorgeous pendant inside.

'Hello, my friend,' you say, grinning. You take the pendant out of the box. You close the box and put it back in the drawer. Then, you quickly lock all the drawers back. You hurry to the cart and stash the pendant among the cleaning supplies. You grab the cart and leave the room. You lock it with stolen keys and walk away. You're almost at the at of the corridor when three men turn to corner.

They're wearing keftas so you know at once they're Grisha. You don't know what made them to return early. You don't wonder about it. You just drop your head and walk past them. None of them pays you any mind. You turn the corner and wait a moment. Then, you look back carefully. Sure enough, the three Grisha enter the room 222. Because life's never easy, is it? And when something can happen, it does.

You grab the cart tightly and walk toward the elevator, praying they won't check the drawer with the box right away. Or the box. You enter the elevator and ride down. You walk past hotel service to the corridor with the back entrance. You leave the cart and drop the keys there, while taking the pendant with you. You find your coat and hurry to the exit, hearing someone's coming. You unlock the door and dash outside.

You don't breathe with relief yet. You're still too close. You tie your coat tightly around yourself and walk away from the hotel. You don't walk fast, so not to draw any attention to yourself. But you're also don't walk too slow, wanting to be as far away from the hotel as fast as possible.

A few minutes later you came across carriage waiting to pick someone up. You walk to the coachman and hand him some coins.

'Where to, miss?' the man asks.

'To the pub "Lady Luck",' you answer.

'Not sure if it's a place for such nice lady,' the man says and shrugs. 'But it's your money.'

You enter the carriage and close the door. A second later you start driving. You reach into your pocked and take out the pendant. You smirk.

'Who said I'm a nice lady?' you ask and hide your loot. You relax and wait to reach your destination. Finally, fate is smiling at you.

*

It's been a few days since your little theft. You return to your small apartment in the middle of the night. You're in the good mood as everything is going according to your plan. A few more days and you're going to leave this city and start your mission.

You unlock the door and enter, humming a soft melody. You close the door behind you and at once you realise something's wrong. You know it's night and it's supposed to be dark in your apartment, but there's something off about this darkness. It's too… thick. Too dark.

'Did you really think you could steal from me and get away with it?' a voice asks and a figure comes out of the shadow. You stiffen and reach for a knife hidden in your sleeve. The man looks familiar but you can't place where have you seen him.

'I'm afraid you broke into a wrong apartment, sir,' you say. The man glares at you.

'Don't play dumb,' he says. 'We both know you're the one who stole a pendant from me.'

Ah, now it clicks. He was one of the Grisha you passed in the hotel. Still, you're not going down that easily.

'Doesn't ring any bell,' you say, shaking your head. 'Could you leave my apartment, sir?'

'Really?' the man hums and picks up a book from the table. He opens it and points at the library stamp. Ah. To be honest, you forgot about stealing that book.

'Are you really going to tell me you're not a thief?' the man asks. You put your hands behind your back, carefully taking out your knife.

'I'm not a thief,' you deny innocently. 'I'm just really good at acquiring things that aren't mine.'

The man scoffs. He walks closer to you. You stand still, showing him he doesn't scare you.

'You're not as smart as you think,' he says.

'I beg to disagree,' you say. 'Anyway, why do you think I'm the one who stole that pendant of yours? Plenty of thieves in Caryeva.'

'It took some time to find you, I admit,' the man says. 'But when I asked questions, no one would dare to lie to me. Everyone I talked to said you're the only one who would dare to steal from me.'

You blink and stare at him. That's all? You have no idea who that man is. You stole the pendant because it was valuable. Not because you're the only one who'd dare it. He has to try harder than that.

'And…?' you ask. 'Any other leads on me? Because, sorry, sunshine, but I have no idea why stealing from you would be so outrageous.'

'You really have no idea who I am?' the man asks, frowning slightly.

'You'd think the confused look and blank stare would have answered that for you,' you answer. The man stares at you. You stare back. Were it different circumstances, you'd call him handsome. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark beard, dark clothes. It gives him the air of mystery. But he's in your apartment and is not happy you've stolen from him. Oh, well.

'Where is it?' he asks.

'I don't know,' you answer, shrugging. 'I didn't steal it.'

'Very well,' the man says after a moment of silence. 'If you really want to keep insisting.'

Before you can even move, you feel something grabbing your arms and pulling them up, causing you to drop my knife. Yes. Something. You look up and see… shadows? Another one grabs your throat and squeezes it. You look at the man and see his hands close to each other. Ooooh… Now you know who he is.

'I will ask again,' General Kirigan says, slowly walking to you. 'Where is my pendant?'

'Hard to say… when you choke… me…' you manage to say. Instead of letting go, shadow squeezes your throat tighter.

'Will you tell me where you hid it?' the Darkling asks. You stare at him defiantly. Shadow chokes you harder.

'Think if it's really worth your life,' the Black General says. You clench your teeth. Shadow holds your neck even tighter. You start to see spots. You're going to pass out in a minute…

'I'd appreciate it if you let go of my sister, kind sir,' you hear a familiar voice. General whirls around. At once the apartment is flooded with light. You see your darling sister with her always present guard that consists of at least ten muscly men.

'I am not kind,' Kirigan says. 'And if she wants me to let go, she has to tell me where my pendant is.'

'I don't… need your… help…' you choke out, glaring at your twin sister. Elizabeth gives you a dubious look. Then, she turns her eyes to Kirigan.

'Let go of my sister,' she demands. Darkness seems to become even more thicker.

'Don't you know who I am?' the Darkling asks. You can hear anger in his voice.

'Yup. I just don't care,' your sister answers. You'd snort if you could.

'General, there's no need for this hostility,' Elizabeth says. 'I'm sure we can work something out.'

'Oh, really?' Kirigan asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But your sister smiles in that way you hate. There's that glint in her eyes that she means she knows much more than the person she's talking to.

'Yes,' she answers. 'Because I know why you've arrived to Caryeva. And I may know the solution to your problem.'

The hold on you lessens a little, letting you know General is intrigued. Your sister looks at him meaningly. He sighs but the shadows let go of you, dropping you on the floor. You groan and stand up, sending glares at your sister and the Darkling.

'Now, let's talk like civilised people,' your sister says, sitting herself behind your desk. 'My name is Elizabeth [L/N].'

'Ah, the uncrowned queen of Caryeva,' the Black General says.

'Give her a few more years,' you murmur and cross your arms at your chest. 'And yes, sister, you can sit there, no problem.'

'Thank you, hon,' your sister says, smiling at you. You scoff and stand next to General in front of the desk. Your sister forms her hands in a pyramid. She has now her 'business look' on.

'Now, let's chat,' she says. 'I've heard the rumours about Fjerdans' new invention.'

'The one that allows to neutralise Grisha?' you ask. Your sister and General look at you.

'You know about it?' Elizabeth asks.

'Please,' you say, rolling your eyes. 'I'm one of the first to now about new things. Why does that matter? That thing?'

'It's a threat to all Grisha,' your sister says and turns her gaze to the Darkling. 'And General Kirigan wants to take it from Fjerdans and make sure they will never invent it again.'

'I still fail to see how could you help me with that,' Kirigan says to Elizabeth.

'Me? Oh, no,' your sister says, shaking your head, and smirks at you. 'But my sister can.'

'What?' General asks.

'Huh?' you ask at the same time, surprised. 'No, I can't.'

'You can and you will work with General Kirigan,' your sister says, giving you a hard stare.

'What do you mean "work with him"?' you ask, astonished. 'He tried to kill me!'

'And you stole from me,' General says, glaring at you. 'Where's my pendant?'

'I already sold it,' you answer smugly.

'You…' General growls, taking a step toward you. Your sister clears her throat.

'No killing, please,' she says. 'We can make it beneficial for all of us.'

'How so?' Kirigan asks, crossing his arms.

'My sister is the best thief there is,' Elizabeth says and smirks. 'She did, after all, managed to steal from you.'

You smile smugly. General glares at your sister.

'And in return I'd forget she stole from me?' he scoffs. 'Or is there something else?'

'I want nothing from you,' you snort.

'Yes, you do,' your sister says and gives you a pointed look. 'The invention is in Fjerda after all.'

You shoot your sister a warning look. Your sister ignores you.

'My sister is going to Fjerda anyway,' she says. 'Help her get there and maybe deal with her stuff and she will get the device for you.'

'I will not!' you protest angrily. 'And don't order me around!'

'What business do you have in Fjerda?' the Darkling asks, frowning slightly.

'Her friend was taken by Fjerdans,' Elizabeth answers. 'She's about to be put to trial. And then killed.'

'She's a Grisha?' General asks.

'No,' you deny fiercely. 'She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Fjerdans assumed she's the Grisha that was responsible for an attack of their forces. But it wasn't her. She's human.'

'Are you sure of that?' Kirigan asks, raising his eyebrows. You glare at him.

'Yes,' you say through clenched teeth. 'The Grisha that really attack them was a coward and didn't come forward. But I know who it was. She's innocent. And she's going to die along with other Grisha that were taken with her.'

'That's actually why she stole your pendant,' your sister explains. 'She needs the money to get to Fjerda and get her out. Even though she could just ask me for money.'

'I don't need your charity,' you spat. General looks at you for a minute.

'Very well,' he says, surprising you. 'I accept this.'

'What?' you ask, dumbfounded. Your sister smiles.

'Excellent,' she says. 'I will feel so much better knowing she's not travelling alone. She loves to get into troubles, this one.'

'One more word…' you growl and look with suspicion at the Darkling. 'Why do you agree?'

'I do need someone to steal that invention from Fjerdans,' Kirigan sighs. 'And I don't like leaving Grisha in need. So, this is something I can help you with.'

You fight with yourself. You don't want to work with him. But it would be useful to have him with you to save your friend…

'Fine!' you finally spat and walk to the front door. 'I will do it!'

'I didn't catch your name,' the Black General calls after you. You look over your shoulder.

'I didn't throw it,' you say and leave your apartment. Your sister shakes her head.

'[Y/N],' she says. 'Her name is [Y/N].'

'[Y/N],' General repeats. 'Can't wait to work with her.'

*

You enter the basement of the building. Only you're allowed to enter here, you bought that right from the landlord. You light up the room and are greeted with a sight of knifes of all kinds.

'You know, normal people don't have a basement full of weapons,' you hear behind you. You sigh internally and turn to face General Kirigan. He's leaning on the doorframe, his legs and arms crossed.

'I'll have you know that every single one of these knives saved my life at least once,' you say.

'What about that gun over there?' Kirigan asks, pointing with his head. You turn and your eyes fall on an old gun.

'Oh, that?' you ask. 'That's just for decoration. But you may be right.'

You walk to a wall and open a secret storage. You take out a simple gun from it and attach it to your hip.

'I may need a gun,' you admit and start picking out knives. 'When are we leaving?'

'Tomorrow would be ideal,' Kirigan answers. 'Will you be ready?'

'I was going to leave tomorrow or soon anyway,' you answer, shrugging.

'Good,' General says and walks toward you, putting his hands behind his back. 'Now, I think we need to establish some rules. Just to make sure we're on the same page.'

'Page?' you scoff. 'We're not even in the same library!'

Kirigan exhales through his nose slowly. You seem to really annoy him.

'Look, we don't have to like each other,' he snaps. 'But we're going to be stuck with each other for the next weeks, so we have to learn to tolerate each other.'

'Don't send your shadows on me and we're going to be fine,' you say, crossing your arms.

'As long as you don't steal from me,' Kirigan says, also crossing his arms.

'Fine,' you say, shrugging.

'Fine,' Kirigan snaps. You glare at each other. After a moment the Darkling runs a hand through his face, sighing.

'I know you don't really want it… but your sister may be right,' he says. 'We can help each other out.'

'I know,' you say. 'It doesn't mean I have to like it.'

You stare at each other for a moment. General walks closer to you. You have to look up to meet his gaze.

'Trust me, I don't like it either,' he says, looking at you with disdain. 'I'm not happy to work with a thief.'

'And yet I'm sure I still have more honour than you,' you say, glaring at him. His lips curl upward in amusement.

'Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, little thief,' he says. In a second the gun is in your hand. You point it at his face. He stares at the barrel of your gun and smiles.

'Do it,' he says. After a tense minute you lower your gun.

'I won't give you the satisfaction,' you say. Kirigan chuckles quietly and walks to the door.

'I expect you at the entrance to the hotel in the morning,' he says. 'I hope you know the way?'

He sends you a smirk over his shoulder. Oh, you want to strangle him so hard!

'I'll be there,' you say flatly. Kirigan nods and leaves the basement. You huff and cross your arms.

'I hate you, Elizabeth,' you murmur. 'How could you get me into this mess?'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47256868/chapters/119072821

[horizon-verizon]

https://www.tumblr.com/maomao92/751232091976531968/aemma-would-have-never-let-rhaenyra-get-away-with

I’m very intrigued by this post and my immediate thought is that if Aemma survived then Baelon probably would’ve too so, Rhaenyra would’ve likely been passed over as heir and she probably would’ve been free to marry who she wanted because there wouldn’t be a need to fix a rift between the crown and the Velaryons since Viserys would’ve never married Alicent over Laena.

But anyways, it’s a loaded question but I’d love to hear your opinion on this post and how you think things would’ve played out in regard to Rhaenyra marrying and having children if Aemma had survived.

As you say, Rhaenyra would have never become heir/queen if Aemma AND Baelon survived.

I've already stated several times how it not "discipline" because the set of ethics and rules you'd be "disciplining" Rhaenyra from are themselves bigoted and worked to make both Aemma and Rhaenyra breeding machines for men, so let's not get highhorsed, OP. There's nothing morally superior or natural and un-sinister that obliges Aemma to castigate Rhaenyra's attempts at compromise and happiness as themselves morally evil or "bad" for there to be "discilpline". Objectively, and no IDC abt "diff cultures". Tell that to girls underogoing genital mutilation and trokoshi.

What the OP means by "what she[Rhaenyra] did", I assume they meant marrying Laenor and having Harwin's kids instead. Well not only was Laenor gay and Aemma would have known, I think thats she would have taken that fact in and berated Viserys and tried to convince him not to marry her to Laenor of all people. Bc of course Rhaenyra would look elsewhere, where would she get her damn heirs?! And Rhaenyra likely tell Aemma that she and Laenor TRIED to no avail bc Aemma of all people would be in her confidence. Aemma of the show likely wouldn't have approved of Rhaenyra being bold enough to be in a full blown relationship with Harwin and ask her some questions that some fans who don't care abt Laenor being gay still say (a closer looking husband or sperm bank) but the argument against that still stands--would you trust that that man wouldn't try to use Rhaenyra' and their kids for his own gain? In which case, again, Viserys' fault.

In the case of only Aemma surviving, if Aemma showed signs of inability to become pregnant again or insisted that she would not have more kids, Viserys would receive some subtle, quiet, and the a few unsubtle pushes to set her aside (which kings can do in this world) and remarry to another chance of an heir. But I don't think Viserys would have on the show at least. idk abt the book not enough info for me. Because he simply seemed that attached to Aemma. Could be wrong, I'd love to hear arguements.

We also have to remember that Aemma of the show explicitly said no more kids and in the event that she survives but Baelon doesn't, she'd know that she nearly died and Viserys had the power to force the kids out by killing her/allowing her to die WITHOUT her being told. Something that even Alyssa Velaryon was allowed, that opportunity to choose. How would factor into how Aemma seeing her girl having to choose a rock and a hard place and finding intimacy/love in a situation where's she's forced into. How do we know that Aemma wouldn't have had some insight or epiphany or some sort of renewed understanding about herself and reproduction after near death?

[badassbutterfly1987]

Okay made it through the first 5 chapters, definitely intrigued. I came into this knowing facts that will be revealed to the audience at a later point, so spoiler warning there.

Prologue:

Erna: an alien world that humans settled on a few generations ago

we are introduced to Almea, wife of Neocount Gerald Tarrant and mother of their three kids; she seems like a decent person, sure would be a shame if something happened to her

fae: treated as magic but actually understood as natural psychic elements of the environment that are very responsive to emotions (scared a monster will show up and it probably will); Adepts are naturals at manipulating fae, while sorcerers either have a lesser talent or learn how to do it

Tarrant: pretty magical Prophet of the Church responsible for unifying them into one faith, recently been excommuninated for use of fae. with the very real effect of belief on Erna, he's probably going to go to a very real Hell. he wants to further improve Erna and also has a fatal heart condition so he's further incentivised to take extreme methods to survive

the cost of immortality is sacrificing his humanity by murdering his wife and two children (one unaccounted for, relevant later). that this is shown from Almea's perspective effectively conveys the full horror of this.

it's a bold choice to have our introduction to one of the main characters be the ritual murder of his family and his reasoning as to why; I respect it, though I'm not sure if this is preferable to a slow reveal to the rest of the cast

Chapter 1:

Damien is a priest from the western city of Ganji and has just arrived in the eastern city of Jaggonath, is less sensible when curious about something, and is a delightful flirt; he also has a strong appreciation for anything fae-related, both in general and when it comes to people (will be funny when he meets Tarrant)

meets Ciani of Faraday, a local Adept who sells fae enchanted objects with her assistant Senzei, she and Damien immediately hit it off and he asks her out on a date (phrased as trading info in exchange for a local fae-map)

we are introduced to the idea of the nearby Forest, a focal point of wild fae that houses monsters and the nameless Hunter (who is definitely Tarrant)

rakh are mentioned as another terrifying thing but remain unexplained for now

relevant ethnicities (as far as they can be measure on a future alien world) in case of fics or fanarts: unsure about Damien, I think it mentioned him being tan; Ciani is definitely a woman of color as she has brown skin; Senzei is noted to be pale for the region, suggesting Ciani's look is the norm

Chapter 2:

Damien goes to visit the local Patriarch of the Church, who does not trust Damien or his goal. the Matriarch of the Western Church has been considering embracing fae use to further influence and plan on using Damien, a man who is both priest and sorcerer, to be the first step

the Patriarch loathes both Damien and the idea but grudgingly provides acolytes for Damien to attempt training fae use with

there are worries that there might be a schism between the western and eastern halves of the Church. feels like a fun reference to the real-world Catholic-Orthodox Schism of 1054

Chapter 3:

we have a young woman named Narilka walking home after sunset, a time when it is considered especially dangerous; it is noted that the Hunter has a preference for young pretty women (going to set aside the possible implications for now)

she runs into a mysterious man (gee, wonder who that is) who offers to escort her home, he's spooky and just off enough that she's wary but accepts his offer

assuming that this is Tarrant and assuming that he is the local boogieman Hunter, it's interesting that he doesn't kill her, just alters her perception to show her the dark fae around them

best guess is that he finds the idea that this brief exposure will tempt her to pursue her on her own, thereby corrupting herself to be more amusing

Chapter 4:

we get a perspective change to these weird nonhuman creatures that are able to resemble humans and are heading to Ciani's shop

there have been mention of the rakhs that no one wants to discuss, presumably these creatures are related

Chapter 5:

Ciani convinces Damien to try on the local fashion, there's an even mix of mild grumbling and fun flirting, shame they're not a bigger thing on ao3

get some worldbuilding info: Working refers to any manipulation of fae (doable by even low level sorcerers); Reading is a specific type that involves observing present facts and seeing a likely possible outcome (like a very impressive educated guess)

then an earthquake happens, something that happens frequently in Jagganoth but everyone's found ways to prepare for and everyone takes shelter: Church-sanctioned places keep everything together through sheer faith, Adepts/sorcerers use fae to keep every building standing even through the worst quakes; inevitably some reckless person tries to harness the earthquake fae and immediately die from the raw power

POV alternates here: Damien/Ciani talk worldbuilding and have kinky sex (good for them); Senzie wants to be an Adept like Ciani (might cause trouble later); Mystery Man notices there's a new dark current in the fae and that he has competition; the Patriarch thinks Damian is a fool but also envies his power and potential influence, exceeding what he's spent a lifetime doing

[sincerely-sofie]

One writing idea that I think could be interesting is a piece exploring how Kip and Twig’s relationship with Grovyle developed during the dark future and after they found out that Twig used to know Grovyle. Since it seems like Grovyle’s attack at Crystal Cave was much more severe in your version of events than it was implied to be in the game, injuring Kip to the point that he almost died, I was wondering if their dynamic was a bit different then in the game. Like did it take Twig longer than finding out that she and Grovyle used to be friends to be ok with him? I imagine that there would probably be more animosity there since Kip was almost killed by him rather than just beaten up a bit like in the game.

Here you go! Angst train pulling into the station!

Grovyle hadn't suspected for a moment that Charmander was actually Twig— why would he? She was so bold, so self-assured in her every action— nothing like the timid human he'd found scrounging in the dirt for food all those years ago— he would've been quicker to assume that her mudkip partner was really a former human than this rambunctious youth before him. But Dusknoir hadn't been lying when he revealed the little fire-type’s name. Twig was alive. She'd survived not only the blow that sent her falling through time, but the aftermath thereof as well. 

Twig was alive, and she hated him. 

***

It was clear in the Dark Future that she didn't trust him— combined with her partner Mudkip’s own blatant misgivings, he couldn't help how irritated he was by their lack of faith in him. Perhaps it was the built-up frustration of having been framed as a villain for so long now, but he couldn't stand to look them in the eyes while they watched him with such open suspicion. Even after hearing his side of Dusknoir's tale, one that wasn't woven thickly with falsehoods, she was wary. 

“Maybe…” She paused and considered before continuing to address her partner. It was the first time Grovyle had seen her hesitate. “Maybe Dusknoir would tell us if he's lying. He would, right? We can go back and ask him. This has to be a misunderstanding. It has to be—”

“I find it hard to believe waking up tied to a stockade with executioners preparing to gut you alive is a simple misunderstanding,” he scoffed.

She rounded on him. “What, do you think you're any better? You almost killed Kip! Why should I believe you're not just trying to get a chance to finish the job? I can believe Dusknoir more than I can someone like you. Without him, he would've died!” 

The mudkip— so Kip was his name, then— set a paw on her clenched fist at her side. “I think he's right. We can't go back to Dusknoir. Sticking together is the best thing we can do right now.”

“I don't trust him!” 

“Then there's still no reason for us to continue on together.” Grovyle couldn't help the bitter scowl that found its way onto his face. “I wish you luck, but don't follow me again unless you believe my story.”

She called after him as he stormed off. “Go kick rocks, you fricking jerkwad!”

(He should have recognized her odd vocabulary. He should have known. He shouldn’t have abandoned her before, nor at that moment. Twig was always so small. She couldn't keep herself safe in a fight. He'd regret treating her so coldly for the rest of his days.)

***

Twig tackled him out of the way of Dusknoir's attack as Grovyle stood in stunned horror. She'd been there the whole time— she was alive, she was right there next to him—his mind was going hundreds of miles an hour and yet had ground to a halt at the same time. The noise of pain she made when her tail was caught in the path of torrential shadows jolted him back into awareness. 

Celebi called his name. The passage of time was ready. His every thought might be stuttering back and forth between rapid fire anxiety and blank-minded stupor, but he didn't need to think to know he had to get Twig out of harm's way. She darted for Mudkip, arms outstretched, but Grovyle caught her under his arm in a dash for the passage of time, barely noticing that she grabbed the boy by his scarf and bundled him up in her arms as they passed. 

He threw himself through the Passage as it closed, managed to turn himself in the air so that he'd break Twig's fall when they hit the ground— and the first thing she did as he lay dazed and in pain wasn't to fret over him like she always had as a human, but instead was to rush over to where Mudkip had fallen and check him for wounds. When she found none and Grovyle pushed himself up onto his elbows, she pulled her friend into a hug and glared at Grovyle from over his shoulder.

She was alive. 

She was alive, and she hated him. 

Judging by the venom in her gaze as she tightened her embrace protectively around her new partner, that wouldn't change anytime soon. 

***

Kip offered his old home as shelter for the unlikely trio. That night was an uneasy one— it seemed none of them were quite ready to relax enough to sleep after nearly being executed not even a day ago— but one by one, they all dropped off. 

Grovyle was the first to wake. It was a grounding ritual to watch the sunrise, and he never missed the opportunity while in this era, so he quietly slipped outside and settled onto the ground to watch as the ocean reflected pinks and golds amongst vivid blues. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the bite of the cold dawn air settle his nerves. 

Twig's appearance beside him did away with whatever progress he'd made towards calm. 

She hugged her arms tightly against herself, teeth chattering as she stared at him with a vicious hatred in her eyes. “You didn't finish the job last night,” she muttered lowly. 

It took a moment for Grovyle to grasp what she meant. “I don't have any grudge against Kip. There's no need to worry about that.”

“You almost killed him. What do you mean you don't have a grudge against Kip?”

“I mean exactly what I said. Twig, I'm sorry that we reunited like this, but I'm so relieved that—”

“Don't. Don't act like we're friends. Maybe I was dumb enough before to think you were a good person, but I'm not so stupid now. I know exactly what things you'd do to get your way. Just because you're on a mission to save the world doesn't make you any less of a terrible person.” 

He swallowed dryly. “I…”

“Kip nearly died because of you. Do you even know that? I keep saying it, but it's like it doesn't land in your head. He almost died. I was practically holding him in one piece after Dusknoir showed up and you ran off. There was—” Her voice broke. “There was blood everywhere, and I couldn't get it all off of me until I healed up enough to wash myself.” 

Legends and Life, she was shaking so hard. “He… He wouldn't stand down. I had to get to the time gear. Azelf would have lowered the crystals if—”

 “If what? If you beat him within an inch of his life?” 

His words were barely audible. “A mortal can't kill a Legend. He would have survived.”

She gave him a look of such potent disgust that he wondered how much further he would have sunk without her there to keep him on the straight and narrow. As a human, she was always arguing for peaceful solutions— things like subterfuge and stealth— where he was inclined to leap in head first with a more… direct approach. They'd been separated for only a year now, hadn't they? And look at the lengths he'd stooped to achieve his mission. 

“You're awful,” she hissed. “Don't think that just because I used to know you or whatever that we're friends now. We're not. You didn't care about me before you knew my name. Remember that.”

She stormed off, heading back into Kip’s home.

She was right. That was the worst part. He didn't care before he learned who she once was, and by letting his desperation to save the world harden his heart against any chance for mercy, he'd turned to a depth of cruelty he didn't recognize himself in. 

Twig hated him. 

And in that moment, Grovyle couldn't help but hate himself.

[syndianites]

I really like the way you write Alyssa! I’m curious on your interpretation on her as a whole?

So I've always been annoyed that she was a child compared to the rest of the alts, but I did like the fact that they gave Mot and Alyssa a relationship because in the og TR Tom and Sonja are the farthest apart, especially irl.

When it comes to Alyssa, I tend to give her a more independent, free-spirited vibe. Sure, she's a child (I normally put her around -14-16) but she also had to witness her home burn down and survive alone. I think in canon Mot picked her up almost right away, but I like to headcanon that she had to survive alone for a while and became hyper-independent because she was one of the few survivors and was already from a low-income family (the family part we don't get much information about, but I always wanted her to have come from a loving family).

For how old she was when the fire happened I'm kinda wishy-washy on because S2 canon tends to trip over itself when attempting to establish a timeline, but I generally put her around 6-8, so that she had enough time to remember her family but also be able to survive alone.

In terms of personality, she is very resourceful and self-taught in most things. Contrary to canon, I actually have Alyssa be more wary of the gods- Dianite included- because I imagine her town being less god-aligned than the others and also, being a child, Alyssa would have blamed the gods for not saving her town and family. She warms up to Dianite, of course, because through Mot she learns that the gods aren't as all-powerful as they are made out to be, but she's not the biggest fan of Ianite and definitely not a fan of Mianite after meeting Andor and Anya (who I personally love to have her be besties with).

I also imagine that she gets VERY clingly once she's warmed up to you. She lost basically everything in the fire, with only a few of her townmates surviving (I think in canon she is the only survivor, but I want her to have a heritage she can come back to and keep alive). So once she gets over the "Who the fuck is this Mot guy and where is he taking me" and the "This guy thinks I'll trust him just because he feeds me?" she ends up getting very attached to the point where people assume Mot adopted her (before he actually does).

Mot helps he re-learn to let others help her, and she helps him learn that others aren't always going to take from him without giving back.

From surviving on her own for so long, she has a great fondness for the wilderness, the woods especially, and is very outdoorsy as a result. She also tends to be adventurous and reckless, except when it comes to fire. For a long time she had a deep-seated fear of fire and even though she's gotten a better grip on it now that fear was one reason she had a hard time connecting with Dianite.

She portays herself as bold and brave, but she is always wary and nervous around new people, partly afraid to get attached and partly afraid they'll take her loved ones from her. I imagine that if she met TR she'd be very untrusting of them, Tom especially, and take a long, long time to open up to them. Ironically, I think she would take to Tom first, because Tom is a very open book and predictable, but also because he can relate, as a zombie, to losing all his loved ones and his home (which ties back into my personal backstory for Tom). Sonja would be the next she gets close to, because Sonja is gentle but also fun and silly and doesn't treat Alyssa like a child. Tucker she'd warm up to over time through Tom and Sonja and his general goofiness, but she'd take the longest with Jordan, because she initially sees him as having ulterior motives in everything he does and just wanting powerful gear and good gadgets (which is ironic since Tom acts the same, but she sees that Tom has a line when it comes to friends that she doesn't think Jordan does).

I think in canon she was taught how to use a bow by Ianite? But I generally imagine her being more of a cross bow/lance user, crossbow because when you're flying trying to keep the bow drawn can be difficult while also trying to keep your wings in check whereas a cross bow you just have to load and aim, and lance because its good for dive-bombing attacks and what she would have crudely made after the fire for hunting. The reach also helped keep the more dangerous creatures farther from her and give her a better chance to escape.

I feel like this mostly turned into a headcanon ramble, but in brief, I generally have Alyssa as outwardly bold and reckless and adventurous, while internally being very paranoid about the intentions of those around her and having a deep seated fear of fire and losing the few people she allows herself to care about. This all creates a genera show of Alyssa acting outgoing while also being very careful and feeling like she needs to be able to do everything and anything alone, even when help is available. She also generally doesn't trust the gods as /gods/ but she does end up trusting Dianite as family and Ianite to a degree.

Thanks for the ask! I have so many thoughts about all the characters

[ngmn2002]

Hello,Sis! 😊

Wizard Tsukasa or Searcher T,which do you perfer more?

Hello, Sis!

Aww, such a tough question you asked me, I mean... how can I choose one of them, both are awesome.

Haha, of course I will choose 'Wizard Tsukasa'! This guy is the absolute perfection to me among all the other versions of Tsukasa.

I love researcher T! butttt... if it came to "who is my favorite", wizard Tsukasa will win.

After all...

He is... so... dreamy...

I mean...

He is just... perfect.

I mean... everything about him is perfect...

starting from the simple fact that he is simply so handsome, going to the path of him being so amazing, super cool, full of confidence AND a wizard?! A powerful one!! How can I survive that?!

In a way... he feels to me like he is the older version of canon Tsukasa... like... I love how playful he is? And at the same time... how confident he is... He is super confident!! Full of himself... I can't... handle that either... with a look from those sharp eyes of his... I'm done for. Ah... that little smirk of his... it kills me, ok?! I can't handle that!

And need I to add... he is a cute little brother???

Look at how cute he looks when Amane calls for him, how he just drops everything when Amane needs him? Nothing is more important than Amane to him! (because of this little something, sometimes I assume the very first thing Amane made was a tracker for Tsukasa's movements so he will make sure his chaotic (mischievous at times) little brother is safe and out of harm's way, since said little brother wonders around a lot. Call it a great, caring and responsible big brother doing all he can to protect little brother!♡ Hmm... and I think this thing he sent to call Tsukasa kinda works the same way? Given that, sometimes it's fun for me to think of the possibility that Amane does know Tsukasa is a wizard, but keeps it to himself and trusts Tsukasa to be able to take care of himself, yet keeps a close eye on him from afar. Doesn't that make him a wonderful older brother? He gets that Tsukasa has to keep it a secret and doesn't mind that, yet makes sure to take care of him just right... that's Amane for youuu... aww.... great and supportive older brother!! Tsukasa is sure super lucky to have him! their relationship feels so soft to me...!)

Hmm… I have to also mention his way of talking? It's awesome and fits his character perfectly??? All his lines were on spot during the whole AU!

Some examples:

"Shall I teach you?" 💘

"～♪ ... Ah! It's a candy! There's still one left, huh. It looks so sad, all alone... ... But my stomach is full right now~ ..." That sing-song voice of his.... awww...

"... Then I wonder what happens when they're eaten by a familiar that is neither a witch, nor a wizard?" His curious side shines... "I don't know, either! Ahaha!" cheerful and playful once again... "If you're curious, then it'll be fun to see what happens, right? Bye-byeee!" This fun-loving guy! Oh!

"Sure thing. And your magic didn't really blow up in the first place. What I taught you was the "Turn People into Candy Spell", after all." Hit me boldly with the truth! That "sure thing" was gold!! what he said next was so smooth!

"Woah there. I didn't say anything because I wasn't asked. Sorry about that. But it's Halloween, so you'll forgive me, right?" You smug mischievous little thing!! I love you!!

My boy is... sly. As sly as a fox!!! Or a cat? Haha.

"Playful, cheerful, carefree, fun-loving, curious, mischieous, sly, bold, super confident, has a strong gaze, a super cool guy, a powerful wizard, SO capable, great personality... best little brother ever…" ♡

Mix all these together and hit me with them in one blow... how can I not see him as perfect???

You know what?! I may go as far as Nene in here in describing him!!!

You know what?! judging by what she said in there... I always laugh to myself and say... according to that... how was she doing in here???

Here is your ideal guy in person??? Too close and... ooh...

Such a strong gaze, captivating smirk and dazilling confidince he has in there...... such a powerful aura...

Of course, I'm only joking about Nene. But it's fun to point out.

Soooo....

He is so mush fun to have around!!!

A perfect example of a teenager 'wizard' boy to me? If I was a girl his age in his school, I have no doubt I would be one of his fan girls (with/ without knowing he is a wizard). Haha.

Ehhh... this level of confidence and grace are too much for me... I can't help but feel so submissive to them…

So yeah, that's about this wizard guy, who I don't care much about, obviously. ~

Researcher T! I actually talked a lot about how awesome he is in my posts lately...

... sooo... he had his share of the praise. ♡

And to make sure I'm fair to both of them!!! I LOVE BOTH! BOTH ARE AWESOME AND SUPER COOL IN THEIR OWN WAYS.

*******

Thank you so much for the ask, sis. It was so fun to answer! ❤️

[bosspigeon]

The Heart Doesn't Lie

what's up catch me reposting old DA fic i wrote in 2017 instead of writing anything new 😎ft the art by @styliferous that actually encouraged me to finish it! <3

It takes time, of course. It takes time, and planning, and a fair amount of Wynne’s secret wine stash that she thinks no one knows about, to gather up the courage necessary to do what needs to be done–to say what needs to be said.

The camp is near-silent when he does it, everyone tucked away in their tents, resting up for the battle they can all feel creeping closer with each passing day. None of them say it, of course, but it hangs over them all. Their forces are growing, and soon, they will take their support to Denerim, to challenge Loghain, and then further, to challenge the Archdemon and the Blight itself.

Sten is seated by the fire, stripped out of his armor but not settling in for bed just yet. He sits, silent and unmoving as stone, and Barktholomew’s heavy head rests comfortably atop his knee. It’s a bit comforting to see his hound there, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because, of all the people who are relying on him now, his dog is the easiest to accept. He’s been told all his life how stalwart mabari are, how their trust is rarely misplaced, and it makes his stomach feel strangely warm knowing that, even if he screws up, he’ll still have the faith of his loyal hound.

Or maybe he’s just drunker than he thought.

“Sten,” he says, blinking a bit to clear his eyes. He’s standing right in front of him now, and even seated on the hard-packed dirt, the qunari’s head easily clears the highest point of his hips.

He looks up almost lazily, and his sharp lilac eyes fairly glow in the firelight. The breath leaves Andrael’s lungs in a rush, and he is very suddenly aware of the heat high in his cheeks.

“Yes, kadan? What do you need?”

There it is. That word again. Kadan. He says it so easily. Just as easily as he says anything else. Plain and flat, no flourish, no inflection. But Andrael is not stupid, and when he gets it in his head to learn something, he will chase every shred of knowledge wherever he has to find it. It got him in plenty of trouble back in the Circle, and he’s sure, if he survives this Blight, it will continue to get him into trouble out in the world. He knows what it means now, to be kadan, and it dredges up so many feelings inside every time the word passes Sten’s lips.

“I know what it means,” he blurts, and he’s not quite tipsy enough not to be embarrassed by the way it falls clumsily from his mouth. “I found a book. An old one. It had... words in it.”

“Like many books, one would assume,” Sten returns without pause, heavy brows lifting slightly in the faintest indication of amusement.

Andrael snaps his mouth closed again, feels the heat creeping beyond his cheeks and towards his ears. He clenches his fists at his side, curls and uncurls his fingers as if trying to grasp at the thread of the conversation he fears he’s already lost before it’s even begun. An errant breeze makes him wobble a bit, and he plants his feet a bit more firmly, before he inhales deeply, puffing out his chest and doing his best to look the qunari square in the eye– but then he compromises with himself and looks at Sten’s mouth instead, and even though it makes his stomach squirm for a different reason, he decides it’s close enough.

“Qunari words,” he amends, tugging at the pockets of his loose nighttime trousers. “The- Um, th-the book, I mean. It had qunari words. What they mean. Like a, um. L-like a dictionary?”

Sten’s face is nigh unreadable, but that’s hardly new. And with the alcohol in his blood, Andrael is feeling marginally more bold than usual. Somewhere between baby deer and larger-than-average nug, maybe. Sten doesn’t say anything, doesn’t blink.

“I know... know wh-what you mean, when you say... k-kadan?” He fumbles the unfamiliar word, the syllables heavy on his too-loose tongue.

“I was not aware it was a mystery to be solved,” Sten offers.

“You can’t say that!” he shouts, claps a hand over his mouth and whips his head around to make sure he hasn’t woken anyone by accident. He continues, voice carefully lowered. “You can't just… Just say that, when you know. And now I know! A-and it's... Do you… What does it mean?” He's vaguely aware he's not really making sense, but too addled and flustered to really do anything about it.

Sten makes something close to an expression, but Andrael can't figure out where it falls on the usual scale of faces Sten makes that aren't anger and bland disapproval. Faint confusion, perhaps? “You said you know what it means. Why ask if you already know?”

“Because I… I know what it means i-in general!” he exclaims helplessly. He's wringing his hands now, twisting his fingers and trying to keep them from fidgeting about too much and failing miserably. “I know… I know what it means o-on paper. But not… not what it means to– What it means to you.” He swallows hard, and finds that his eyes are on the ground now, and he can't bring himself to lift his head and look at those piercing mercurial eyes and see what they hold. Not enough liquid courage, he supposes. “Language… is, um. It’s complicated? Doesn't always… mean what it means, right?” He shakes his head, but that just makes him feel dizzier, floatier. He's starting to lose his buzz, and with it, his nerve. He makes one last bid for it, takes a deep, deep breath and tries to steady his quaking nerves. “What… does it mean to you?”

Sten still looks… like Sten, like he’s carved from stone, his expression carefully blank. Barktholomew is sitting up now, looking between them. Sensing something amiss. He seems to ponder a moment before he shoves his nose between Andrael’s grasping, fidgeting hands and gives him something to do with them other than fret. It helps quite a lot, actually, steadies him. His heart slows down a bit and doesn’t feel so much like a panicked rabbit’s, thumping away in his narrow chest.

“It means many things,” Sten rumbles once the silence has stretched out so taut and still it shakes Andrael to his core. “It can mean many things.” He almost sounds hesitant, and it’s strange to hear from someone so blunt. “It is a term of endearment, I am sure you know, but it is… difficult to explain.” “Try,” Andrael says, breathless, fearful, though he’s not quite sure why. The heat suffusing his face has spread down his neck and now he sort of feels uncomfortably warm all over. “Please,” he adds weakly.

“It means… someone who is dear. Important.” Sten’s brows furrow a bit, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “The center of the chest, where the heart lies. If it is gone, your life is lesser for it.” He looks down, pensive, then back up again. “You have done a great deal for me, kadan. Things you did not have to do. That means something.” Suddenly, his expression looks much less stoic, the lines and angles of his face softening into something tender… intimate. Andrael feels as if he shouldn’t be seeing it, it’s so unguarded. “To me, kadan is someone who makes me feel like I am home, even if I am thousands of miles from everything I’ve ever known.”

There is always a measured weight to Sten’s words; he says nothing without first thinking on it at length. He does not like to speak without meaning, to waste breath on frivolities and untruths. Still, to hear him say such things, as heavy and insistent as ever, strikes Andrael’s chest in a way that leaves him breathless. He falls to his knees as if borne by the weight of the words alone, and flings his arms loosely around the qunari’s broad, bare shoulders, hiding his burning face in the crook of his neck.

For a moment, just one breathless moment, Sten’s body is as hard and unyielding as stone. And then, it passes, and he is just as much flesh as Andrael, with a surprising amount of give considering his powerful warrior’s build. He holds steady as the elf slumps against him, unable to hold his own weight anymore. “Y-you can’t mean that,” he whispers, thick with tears just beginning to overflow down his cheeks. “You can’t…” He’s not sure what else he would have said, can’t quite choke out anything more. The only sound he can get to pass his lips is a broken little whimper that erupts from his chest when Sten’s big, strong hand splays across his shoulder blades and holds him closer still.

“The heart does not lie, kadan,” Sten murmurs. Andrael can feel the thunder of his words shared between them where their chests are pressed tight together. “You mean a great deal to me.” And the simple, blunt honesty of that is devastating. Andrael trembles, feels as if he’s going to come apart at the seams without Sten holding on to him like he is.

The firelight is warm on his back, Sten’s hands even warmer, and he can even feel Barktholomew settling in beside them, his thick furry bulk pressing against Andrael’s leg. He thinks, warily, that the world will be tilting and unsteady and a bit nauseating when he opens his eyes, but, lucky for him, there’s no need for that at the moment, not with Sten’s arms around him and that word– kadan– echoing like a heartbeat in his ears.

[babyitsmagic]

truth serum: Juno, when Azazel finds out Dante is still alive, are you going to be able to follow through on orders to kill him?

@ofviolentdeath || truth serum meme (still accepting!)

“Okay, first off, fuck you for making me think about that conversation, because I’ve been spending a whole lotta time actively avoiding thinking about it and I don’t appreciate it being dragged to the forefront of my brain. Second, bold of you to assume I’m going to survive that conversation. People don’t get to disappoint or betray Azazel. Third, even if I do survive that conversation, I’m only going to live long enough to regret my decision about Dante, because Azazel is an expert at breaking people. I mean, look at this mess. At least 65% of it is in play to break Wilder and the other 45… wait, no 35% of it is in play to break Viola. Which only went into play because she got in the way of him breaking Wilder. I don’t have a million connections to keep me safe. I’m fucked. But okay, let’s entertain the actual question for a moment. If there were some scenario where he gave me a second chance and told me to try it again? I wish I had an answer. I wish I were brave enough to say I would never do it to Dante or cowardly enough to say I’d do anything to win back Azazel’s trust. But I don’t fucking know. I don’t think Dante deserves to die, and especially not over a bad choice made by his mom. But I also don’t want a slow and painful death that probably involves watching him kill my moms first. So yeah, that’s where I’m at and once again, fuck you for bringing it up.”

[nosleeppotions]

"I don't need to fix the world." Tommy states matter of factly, taking on a more proper sounding accent as he looks up from his work. Covered in dirt and oil with a big grin.

Six was leaning against a sturdy piece of wall and looking out into the dry and cracked distance, only a few tumbleweeds and stary patches of not-quite-grass disrupting the view. Bluebell was seated on a blanket just outside the crumbling old structure with the dogs curled up on either side of her while staring up at the sky.

Six chews on a piece of jerky thoughtfully before peering around the edge of his old cowboy hat with a raised brow. "Ya don't?" to be fair, that's all anyone ever seemed to care about. The old world. Even though none of them or their parents were even born back then, it was something older folks wanted to cling to... a noble aspiration though highly unlikely. It's especially something that comes up if you're familiar with... spesific groups....

"No, who needs a perfect world? I've got you guys."

Six doesn't even try to hide his smile, shaking his head with a huff. "You're awful sentimental today Tommy. You sure this heat ain't getting to ya?" He teases, getting an eye roll in response before he returns his gaze back to the horizon. "You're not wrong though." They DON'T need to fix the world and that's okay, they might help along the way but at the end of the day? Keeping themselves safe and happy, their own survival... their own friends and family... THAT'S what mattered. And the world didn't have to be perfect or fixed for that.

"Hey Blues, spot any UFO's yet?" Tommy quickly calls out, realizing she probably heard all that.

Bluebell, along with the two dogs turn their heads to look at him. "None you can catch a ride on. I'm putting you on a no fly list." She shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him.

Tommy clutches his chest in mock hurt.

Bluebell looks like she just remembered something, eyes going wide for a second. "By the way, which way are we going tomorrow? I don't know how long I want to leave the kids with Butch-"

Six scoffs. "Bold of you to assume I trust that man with a paper bag, much less my nephew. I ran into Tommy's pops and sent him down to have a look."

At that Tommy lights up like a string of fairylights. "Malcolm's in the area?"

Six pulls his hat over his face with a groan. "Damn it, I spoiled the surprise." He grumbles to himself.

[fightingthetides]

🍰 // dino @ hibari x)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| @dyingresolve Note: I'm lazy, so i'm not about to edit images. I'm going full text-style.

🔪Where Hibari would place your muse in a Horror movie:

Options: First to die, Survives by pure luck, Tries to protect the others, Too cute to die, Assassin, Kills the Assassin.

Easy. "The first to die." Dino would trip over his own feet down a flight of stairs. Hibari? Guess he's the 'assassin'.

-

👌 If someone said 'I'd die for you' what would Hibari's reaction be.

Options: Then perish, You will, Please don't, Cool, I'd die for you first.

"Then perish." Preferrably, with Romario around, so you at least can put up a fight. If you'll be dying by his hands, at least offer some amusement before you go.

-

📝 'Can I copy your homework?' How does Hibari think they'd react?

Options: I'll help you with it!, Yeah sure, Bold of you to assume i did the homework, Lol nope, Wait we had homework????, Read 5:55PM

"Bold of you to assume that I would trust the bucking horse to offer any assistance with homework."

sigh. The man prides himself as his mentor, "He would offer to help."

-

👀How likely is your muse to stab someone:

Options: Would never stab anyone, Would stab in retaliation, Yells 'I won't hesitate bitch' first, Would stab without warning, Would stab as a warning.

What an amusing question.

"What won't that man do when his men aren't around to make him useful?" He can stab, whip, shoot anyone if he's a lame horse without reigns. Allies and enemies alike, no one will be spared.

"He'd stab without warning as you wouldn't expect him to stab you." The man can barely walk on his own legs, much less be expected to stab the correct person. Consider himself lucky if he doesn't stab himself in the process.

[nkogneatho]

"𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐃!𝐂𝐊"

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

#m.list #series m.list #taglist #kofi

—cw: fem!reader, angst, smut, past trauma, abandonment, mentions of death unprotected sex, breeding, name calling (baby girl, queen), semi-public, mentions of alcohol, drunk sex.

—word count: 2.33k

—#𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖

#𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Your shitty parents abandoned you on a station. But you survived somehow for years, and ended up with this tall black haired hunk named Geto Suguru. He despised everyone else but you. He had enough room in his small heart for you. But you only realized it after a long time when his drunk self spilled secrets and fucked you good, claiming you.

Reblogs are appreciated.

Poor kids get abandoned here and there. No one cares for them. No one issues any complaints of them going missing, no one bothers if they see a poor child walking alone. Probably because you looked unhygienic to them. Your clothes were dirty, You hadn't bathed in days, and your walk was slow and creepy due to the lack of energy.

You don't even remember the faces of the parents that abandoned you. You just remember waiting at a train station with a rabbit keychain dangling, it's ring in your pinky. People did ask you why were you waiting there and asked if they could help you drop you at your home. But being both naïve and smart, you denied because you were taught not believe strangers and stayed there believing your parents might come. How foolish. Only if you trusted that unknown lady instead of your blood, then maybe your life would've been different. Regardless, you are glad to be where you are now.

“So, what plans do we have for today?” You heard a voice emerge from the kitchen as you mindlessly scrolled the tab that you were researching, on the sofa.

“We have to meet Sasaki-san for the exorcism. His daughter is showing all the symptoms of being,” you informed.

He walked closer to where you settled, his naked arms flexed as he pushed his hands against the armrest of it.

“So, what grade do you think it is?” He asked you in a soft voice. He always made sure to lace his voice in sugar before conveying his words to you. It was not fragility, but intimacy.

You but your lips trying to figure the answer, recalling the symptoms.

“It seems as if it's a B-grade. I would've finished them on my own, but we need this to capture more strong curses for you.”

You were building an army which was going to take long, but you were patient. In order to build a better world, a world Geto desired.

It was night and a call for celebration since you were almost halfway towards your goal. Everything was falling back into its place. But someone kept falling down. Suguru clearly had too much to drink. He has low tolerance, but the bartender kept mocking, so his hurt ego had to gulp down a few more shots before his legs became a wobbling mess, and his body weight rested on your shoulders.

“You didn't have to drink all that, you know?” He walked straight towards your car.

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “But he thought you were dating a loser.”

“Yeah, that was bold of him to assume we were dating. And secondly,” you opened the door to your car, plopped him inside, “low alcohol doesn't make one a loser.”

“You don't know this cruel world, y/n.”

“So who's gonna drive? We're both buzzed,” you asked while looking for your phone in the purse. You connected it to the car speaker playing 'The night we met' by Lord Huron. It was one of your favorite songs.

Suguru didn't answer your question. Instead, his lazy eyes were gazing at you. You could sense them while scrolling through the contacts to see who you could call to come and drive you two home. Scrolling and scrolling. But his gaze became irresistible and finally made your eyes contact his.

“What?”

“Just thinking how much of an idiot the guy was to think we're dating,” he answered, still looking at you. His words stung you. Were you that unattractive that he felt ashamed to be assumed that you two were dating?

“Why? Am I not someone who you'd date?” you asked.

“No,” he spat. You felt like you misheard something, but no. This was reality. Of course. Suguru and you always had a Platonic relationship. He was your savior and you were one of his important chess piece. It's not like you had a problem being that. Bare minimum has always been the most for you since the incident with your parents. You should be grateful to him. And you were.

“I see.” He noticed your face dropping when you finally broke the eye contact.

“It's because you're perfect. Perfect's not my type.” You were stunned by what you thought was a sudden compliment. But it warmed your heart too.

“What is your type? We've been together for so years, but that for me is still a mystery,” you asked, humming the song.

“Someone who is corrupted like me. Someone that can show me sides that I didn't know I had.” You once again tilted your face to him, noticing his eyes are on your lips this time. The song in the background suddenly got louder. Or was it the silence between you two that made it seem like it? What was the silence anyway? Was it you two thinking about something that you never had?

His hands were now lazily brushing on your thighs along with the smooth flow of the song. Your breath got heavy. You don't remember how it happened, but the next thing you knew, you climbed on his lap.

“I can be a little corrupted, you know?” Your fingers outlined his jawline, tilting them up.

“Mhm. Is that so? Do you want me to corrupt you completely?”

You did not answer in words. You answered in a deep, hard kiss. Soft lips, staining his in with your red lipstick. Moans emerged from his lips as he pulled you closer with his hand on your back. You have always felt safe in those hands. They were the one you held when he met you for the first time when you were scared. Those hands taught you how to use a cursed tool. And now those hands were holding your back in place, so he can explore your mouth. Silly little fingers started unbuttoning his black shirt. Although you didn't want it off him because he looked so fucking sexy in that.

“Impatient now, are we?” He grinned in the kiss.

“Fuck me. Please~” you begged. You begged. God did it turn him on so much. He never thought that you can say such filthy words. He always found it sexy when you rarely swore. But here you were now. Begging for him to fuck you. And he'd be a fool if he were to lose such a chance.

With no time-wasting, he popped the button of your shirt, exposing your matte maroon plunge bra. “Holy shit. Feel like I complimented your shirt for nothing. You look even better without it, baby?” Your cheeks burned up. Although you were unaware of what. The way that he was staring at your half exposed breasts, the compliment, or the nickname.

He didn't unhook your bra, but he pulled your boobs out of the cups that now rested under them. He licked his lips before mimicking the same action on your nipples. You felt them stiffened when he sucked them, poking his tongue.

While his mouth was busy, he unfastened his belt and buttons, unzipped and removed his cock out of his bottoms. Big hands reached yours and rubbed them against his cock. Embarrassment filled you when you felt him getting hard under your touch. You removed your hands, inched closer to his cock. With your skirt hiked up now, your clothed folds were grinding on his dick. The only moans you had heard from Suguru was when he brought some random chics home for a one-night stand. And dare the walls be so thin for you to slide a hand between your legs, dreaming that it could be you. Unconsciously, you'd been wanting to fuck him for so long. Yet, you realized it now. Though it wasn't late.

You moved the mismatched black panty line past your pussy lips, allowing your hole to be on display.

“Shit, baby. So wet already?” He cooed in your mouth. One of his hands traveled south where his dick was. Teasing your wet slit with his cock head, receiving a whine from you.

“Don't tease. Need you. Need ya in me.”

“You know, I fucking love how you always know to voice your needs,” was all he said before slipping it in you. Poor little hands held on to his shoulders for support. You bit your lips at the stretch, and he thought that was the naughtiest thing he'd ever seen.

“You're so big,” you praised, expressions somewhere between frown and amusement.

“Yet you're taking me like a champ. Just a lil' more, m'kay?” He grunted when your walls squeezed him. “There you go, baby. Keep sinking.”

“Sss. Can't anymore, Suguru. T—too big.”

“C'mon. I know you can do it f'me, babygirl,” he put his body weight in his back, causing the seat to lean behind, giving him more visual access to your shaking body.

Your entire weight rested on his thighs using the help of your hands. Meanwhile, his gripped your ass to lift you up and sink you back down slowly, making sure to stretch you out. Seven slow thrusts before his cock head found a perfect angle and space to hit your cervix. Being surprised with the unannounced action, your eyes widened as your bottom lip tugged between your teeth. Worrying he might've hurt you, he stopped. But to his surprise, you started bouncing on his wet shaft.

Suguru had to be stunned. All the girls he brought home and fucked them hard, grunting because he knew the walls were thin, and you could hear him. He made sure to narrate his actions, so maybe you'd get a little help if you were playing with yourself. He was so shocked to realize that after all these years of fucking other girls, closing his eyes and wishing it was your cunt, he finally got the real deal. Finally, the taste of the real fruit. And it was so much more than he imagined. No other pussy he fucked before could be compared to yours. You were shy, but you were also filthy. You weren't like those other hoes. Your cheeks burned up, embarrassment filling up your expressions, but your cunt said something else. As innocent your face looked, your pussy was ten times more filthy. Eyes stinging with tears of pleasure pouring down your cheeks but your cunt spilling juices on his dick that was too big for you fifteen minutes ago.

It was the same for you, you always wondered what Suguru looked like fuck you heard the headboard banging against the wall. Getting jealous of those bitches he fucked. Must be so good, since you heard them chanting his name like a fucking prayer all night. You barely got any sleep, tired of using your tiny fingers. But now here it was. His fat cock stuffing you like you always wanted—needed.

“God. Suguru! Keep hitting that and I'll—Ah. And I'll fucking cum.”

“Go ahead then, y/n. Make a mess on my cock. Wanna feel you cumming all over me.”

At this point, you didn't even care if your minuscules were visible to one or two people passing by on the empty street. It was dark, but your car light was lit enough to identify the indecent things you two were doing.

Your sweaty palms banged against the glass windows as your hips tightened. You chanted his name—just like those other girls would—as your orgasm hit you. Suguru had heard this name a million times. It's always “Suguru! Suguru fuck! Oh my god, you're making me cum so fucking hard.” Yet, it sounded different when you said it. Because others worshiped him as a god. While you stood equal to him.

“Sugu—Holy fuck! Do not fucking stop. Do you understand?” you grabbed his jaws. “Keep fucking me. Please. I wanna feel you cum in me.” How were you so captivating yet submissive is something that he had never understood.

It's this moment that made him realize what a fucking queen you'll make when he rebuilds the world. All the non-curse users dead, and all the shamans wrapped around your fingers. Because you already make such a great solider. Killing every human as he asks you too. Tracking every curse. You never once doubted his motives, unlike others. And that might be his favorite thing about you. About his queen.

“Fuck.” His pace increased, hips crashing in yours in an animalistic manner. It's like you flipped a switch in him.

“Gonna be my queen, babygirl. Once we get outta here, I am gonna fuck you—mhm fhhuck— fuck you all night in my bed. No. Our bed.”

“Wanna be your queen, Suguru. Please mark me up. Fill me with your cum.”

“Yeah? You want that? You bet I'm gonna. I fucking claim you right here,” and that's where his moves started getting sloppier. His grip on your waist tightened. It's like he was pulling you closer than it was possible, nutting inside you, painting your walls in his thick warm cum. Your head rested on his shoulders, his big hands caressed your back. He could feel your cunt overflowing and his seed spilling down his balls because he hadn't pulled out yet. But this was perfect. You would rather not be even an inch away from him right now.

“Holy shit, baby. You drove me crazy there,” he whispered in your ears.

“We have a long drive ahead. I'll drive you even crazier, so make sure to not pass out.”

“As you wish, my queen.” It's like you had flipped your personality. You were finally able to see the big picture. Finally able to dream of those things your trauma told you not to. A big world rebuilt by you and him. If there would be no humans like your parents, there would be no discrimination. A perfect world, indeed. And you finally understood his plans. He might have a small heart, but he has a big dick. And even bigger brain. Geto is a fucking mastermind.

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[thepictureofsdr]

“controversial opinion alastair carstairs has potentially had the hardest life out of any of the main characters in the shadowhunters universe so far” now you may be thinking to yourself “WHOA tumblr user thepictureofsdr back it up there, that is an incredibly bold, broad, and obnoxious take” HOWEVER i have a case to make.

(disclaimer this isn’t taking into account the villains or immortal characters while i personally understand cringe teenager psychology i cannot personally understand the psychology of people over 300 nor those with murderous urges, im not finished my degree. one more disclaimer in the notes)

there is one singular thing that i think sets alastair apart from any of his other mc shadowhunter colleagues: the fact that he has been alone his whole life.

you can pluck any mc from any cassie series and create a web of support for them, whether it be family or friends, whether the characters believe they have that support system or deserve it or not, that support is STILL THERE. at all points in TMI, clary, jace, alec, izzy, and simon were all there for each other. alec was pretending to believe jace was evil in coa? izzy was staunchly defending jace. clary had a falling out with the others? she had simon. this pattern continues into the books, with gideon and gabriel being forgiven by institute and allowed a place to heal, with jem and will each going through hell but having each other and then having tessa, with the blackthorn siblings having each other to fall back on (including emma), with kit finding a home in LA and then with the carstairs, with the merry thieves considering each other brothers, with cordelia spilling her heart out to lucie, hell even grace had jesse. obviously i haven’t named every character but you get the trend im going for. every character has had SOMEONE, a friend, a significant other, a parabatai, a sibling, the rare parent.

then we have alastair. he had a roughly normal childhood for a few years despite the moving around, having a healthy relationship with his baby sister. but then he turned 10, something changed and he lost everything. on top of having moved around a lot and not having a single stable friend, in a way, he lost his sister and parents. it’s impossible to have a carefree sibling relationship when you’re actively giving up your life and time to protect them. it is by no means cordelias fault that their relationship was lost, but its a sad truth. he loses that reliable open sibling relationship, he loses that relationship with his father, and his mother ceases to be a mother and becomes more a coworker in this panic to keep the family afloat. by taking on this adult role so early on in life he loses the innocence and unconditional reliability of those relationships, and he seemingly never turns to them for comfort ever again, with cordelia only finding out about part of his emotional ordeals in cog, and even then he doesn’t burden her with everything. with this breakdown of the parental units and relationship as well as being isolated, alastair also loses his only example of what a healthy romantic relationship should look like, he has no real idea how a partner should act, which we know will come into play later. let’s also not forget how the one family member that could’ve helped, jem, was actively pushed away by elias who raised his children to not trust silent brothers for his own personal selfish needs.

then he goes to school, desperate for friends and what does he get? a year of verbal and physical bullying, with rumours being spread about his family and bruises slowly covering him. he then has to spend years pretending he’s awful just to survive and by some miracle he gets out and makes 1 (one) singular friend who then publicly friend breaks up with him by threatening to throw him in a river at an engagement party attended by what i assume is the entire enclave (thank you matthew). THEN (yes this tragedy is still going) we get to one of the most unsettling relationships in the series, mostly because the bizarreness of it is just… never addressed? we get alastair and charles who were together in 1902 when they wouldve been about 18 and 23, meaning we got a man who would’ve graduated college by then going after someone who would have just graduated high school… on top of that it was an incredibly toxic relationship with charles making him feel as though he were worthless and a dirty secret and centered the entire relationship around him, his own schedule, his needs, his wants, never making time for anything on alastair’s terms. on top of the love sick teenager syndrome, alastair had never personally witnessed a healthy relationship so on top of that AND being desperate for the closeness and intimacy and support he’d gotten from no one before, he had no way of knowing he was being treated badly, he didn’t know any better until much later, after witnessing charles propose to not one but TWO GIRLS while still keeping alastair sidelined.

so to summarize, alastair has never had a lasting, appropriate, healthy, unconditional, relationship with 1. a parent 2. a sibling 3. a friend 4. a significant other 5. family. he has never been loved for the sake of being loved, hes never had someone care for him because he simply exists, everyone wants something from him and he’s never felt what its like to be truly cared for. for every trauma he has endured, for every night he went out as a child to find his drunken father passed out in a bar to drag him home, for every beating he suffered as a school boy, for every friendship that crumbled to nothing, for every time his only relationship used him and sent him to sleep unsure of his worth, he didn’t have a single person. there was no jem to assure him that no matter his faults he deserved love, no cecily to hand out forgiveness and remind him to not dwell on the past, to just move forward, no julian to turn to when he couldn’t hold up anymore, no izzy to tell him he deserves better or to point out the flaws in how he’s treated, no alec to let him rest and defend him, he has never experienced those healthy dynamics.

not only has he been dealt an awful set of cards, hes never had a single person to help him through life to the point where hes not only alone but the few relationships he does experience actively cause him more problems and pain. mind you this post doesn’t even really address the main traumas he endures this is just the breakdown of his relationships so just mentally add on his MAIN story to all of this… everything elias made him endure, all the bullshit the thieves throw in his face, every time hes given up his life for the sake of someone else… this is just the background to all of that.

in short i think alastair has had one of the hardest lives maybe even the hardest, not because i think hes suffered the worst traumas of all or i think he wins the sadness games, but because he has never had a single person to help him through what he’s experienced, to love him because he exists, never had a single person to care for him through it all and not only is he aware of this tragedy, he thinks he deserves it. he pushes people away, keeps his walls up, thinks he doesn’t deserve love from others, thinks he is too damaged and twisted to burden someone with his existence, and despite his genuinely kind soul, he still thinks he’s cruel and awful and deserving of nothing, but are we surprised? its not like he has anyone to tell him otherwise.