#sincerely sewer rat

[sewinrat]

What if the reader is Randal's twin sister that is always calm and quiet but yet more intimidating than the rest of the ivory household and is always abusing or scaring Sebastian?

It's just something I made up in my head! 😭

Only if you have the chance to do so, of course!

Hey I know I disappeared but I'm going to break my own rule to give you all content

*Reader implied to be female. Also this will not be a fic, just those headcanons thingy

Being Randal's More Intimidating Twin Sister;

Goodness, Randal would never have a boring day if he decides to watch your torture sessions daily

He definitely doesn't like how quiet you are but Nyen and Nyon are the same and he doesn't have a not-fun day watching them so he lets it be. But he's definitely forcing you everywhere with him. You are his twin after all and two is better than one as the humans say!

Clothing wise I'd say a Japanese school girl outfit with blazer and wearing gloves to match Randal's outfit. Honestly it doesn't matter what you want to wear as long as the colour is inverted of Randal's. White outfit and black gloves. You wear glasses but most often contact lenses. The feeling of them intrigued you but glasses are also usually a hindrance in your day to day activities.

The day when Luther gifted the both of you a human pet, you are ecstatic. Your face doesn't show but Randal knows and he's ecstatic as electric as well. Both of you have the dynamic of Maud and Pinkie that's why he can tell. The day after that is the day Sebastian the human pet learns true fear.

You are unnerving and rightfully so. Especially when you keep chasing after him with those garden shears. If Randal has scissors, you have bigger scissors. You like to snip snip Sebastian's body parts. Hair, legs, hand, you get the point. You won't necessarily kill him on purpose, only by accident but Luther will stop you when Sebastian's at the brink of death. Which he wished for more than escaping after weeks upon weeks of torture. Too bad Randal is enjoying this too much which encourages your behaviour.

More often than not, Luther had to tell you to clean up your mess after you finish your fun activity. He doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop you as well because in his words, who is he to stop his little sister discovering her hobbies and enjoying them.

Two peas in a pod the both of you. It doesn't matter how different you both are, you're still twins. If anyone knows anything about twins, is that somehow they have a deeper bond than with anyone else around them. If you mess with one of them, you have to deal with the other or together if you wanna get messy.

Nyen won't say it out loud obviously but he much prefers you over Randal if we're talking about violence and perfect fit to be the next heir if it ever comes to that. I mean obviously because we're speaking the American cat here. If he's 'lucky', you might spar him one on one. Nyon on the other hand definitely avoids you like the plague. Not a fighter and definitely does not want to be your next experiment but too bad for him, you're still above him in ranks.

Satoru won't favour you more than Randal but he'll definitely ask for your help to make him 'real' to which you happily complied. Remember that spider girl in Vol.2 and Avalona Mercury? Yeah they're your besties. Don't ask how but they just naturally are. Unless you're someone who seeks to pursue a relationship with one of them which I guess go off. No one really cares.

Known as well as the ratmen's worst nightmare. They wish to never come across you ever or else they're better off as a taxidermy head on top of a fireplace. Even if there's a slight chance they'll be let off uninjured, there's a high chance they'll end up getting owned or dead.

Wednesday Addams kinnie I just realised but hey maybe that's what you wanted.

Randal would definitely dragged you into his own mess by making you dress up as him and take the blame. Sometimes you let him do whatever he wants, other times he ends up bloodied.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "You've met my twin?! Oo! Oo! How are they?! Did you have fun with her?! She's really fun to play with especially with those shears of hers!" Excited to rant about his twin. Get comfortable or not because he can go on and on and on.

Luther: "Ah yes. She's quite a delight isn't she? I just wish she wouldn't leave such a bloody mess everywhere and anywhere she wants but oh well~ I can't stop her from enjoying what she loves doing." Dismissive yet acknowledged. Just don't get blood on the new carpet or curtains and you're good like you're avoiding angering your mother too much but brother instead.

Nyen: "Would love to fight against once. With her next in line, everything will definitely turn for the worst but it'll be very fun." Nothing else to say except he gives more respects to you than to Randal but won't admit it.

Nyon: Like I said, avoids you like the plague. It got to the point where he can't come up with an opinion on you because his mind goes automatically to 'avoid her alert'. That's not to say he hates you, he could never hate his master's family, he just rather not be under your torture sessions.

Sebastian: "Please don't tell me she's behind me." Shivering scared little thing. He likes his limbs to be intact 24/7 of course so even by the mention of you have his thoughts rapidly flashed the flight or fight instinct. But it's only flight no fight. He's not that bold.

Bonus! Tsukada Satoru: "Randal's twin is nice. She helps me when I needed her most especially when it comes to hurting. Glad to see her interacting well with those two." He's too much focused on Randal to care but since you're Randal's other half, his literal twin, he has to care enough about you.

[sewinrate]

Go to @sewinrat if you're gonna request me a Ranfren x reader

[sewinrat]

I'll volunteer

However, the fic, it might not be the one you want so I'll make two

WHY we need more satoru tsukada from ranfren vol 2 x reader fanfics.

hello tumblr. you will not address me with a name or anything of the sort. i am simply the thing eating away at the back of your head that leech onto every single thought that you ever so have. even now maybe i’m in there. who knows.

i’ve grown sentience to tell all of you ranfreners on tumblr something that my friend kept bugging me to ask, WHERE is the satoru fanfics? and no, i don’t mean the ones with randal. those are very fruitful, yes. highly recommend them especially the one that made me weep while shitting on the toilet. but… 

*i sigh as i tuck a single strand of hair behind my ear* w-w-w-w-why not me..? i want a cute anime boy with a box cutter in some dream world to harvest MY organs, not randals. :/// my point is that no i can not write whatsoever and if i do i’ll be publicly humiliated by everyone in the fandom as they throw tomatos at me

okay, we’re getting a little bit off topic, so. here is a list of reasons why satoru tsukada x reader fanfiction DESERVES to exist

1. satoru tsukada is a very complex and multi-dimensional  character in the surrealist webcomic ���randal’s friends’ otherwise known as ranfren created by the person living inside my walls named captainhowie. even though he is only fairly recently introduced in the series, satoru is a rather well written character, considering the fact that he

2. 

3. im desperate

[marzipanxx]

guys please hear me out

[vanglaggle]

day 4: compliments

[jinxxed-vexx]

My infamy travels past the reaches of Twitter. >:)

Also for anyone wondering the lore of my name...it's from this meme.

I just thought it was the funniest shit I'd ever seen like three years ago and I haven't changed it since.

[aldisobey]

Rook Questionnaire

@emmg yo thanks for the tag! I’m always happy to write too much about Worne. You asked for this k I can’t help but put down the full answer when I have it. I need this raccoon man to find your sewer rat because Nevarra is not good for them. Return him to the streets, get her to the beach, those tombs are freakin me out.

Anyways this is Rook ‘Worne’ Thorne. At this point he’s just Worne lol, I’m going to end up using it in the fic because it’s out of my hands it’s just who he is. Look I don’t plan on writing this info longform so I indulged here since I’m working on lichy epilogue stuff. This is the lovely foundational start I needed today. Enjoy if ya like it’s useful ref for me.

Where in Thedas is your Rook from?

Kirkwall. Specifically Darktown. It was horrible. He misses it dearly.

What is your character’s alignment?

Chaotic Good. He does crimes. They’re good. I’m a sanctioned DM okay I’ll argue this one lol

Race and subclass?

Human Rogue

If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

The Weisshaupt mission would go through the prisons for a section and he’s in there. Got a stash of books and literally didn’t know what was happening they forgot him in the drunk tank for fucking with the First Warden. One of the cells is considered his, he likes it fine down there. But hell yeah he’s ready to help out the Veilguard and get the fuck out of the Wardens completely. If he didn’t end up there he’s off duty at a bar in Docktown. Or in the thick of it running dangerous missions for Antoine and Evka in Lavendell.

What emotion did they usually pick?

Laughter. Joy. Where he is in life has never been in his control. Mood is his mastery. He’s choosing to chill and smile whenever he can. Life’s tough enough. Leads to a lack of decorum but he’s a very sincere person. Fuck being polite. If we’re talking what I picked in game options it was a mix. He is very kind and incredibly confrontational when needed arises. But he defaults to sincere joy if he can.

What companion are they platonically close with?

Davrin is his brother. They’re constantly picking at each other and ‘fighting’, messing with Lucanis, they have a running game for who can get the most mierdas in a day, and just being a menace to everyone at the Lighthouse when they get going. Rook looks up to Davrin in a way. Mostly because Davrin really is the expert on monster fighting. That’s sick. He also doesn’t hide his jealousy over not being chosen as a griffon ‘bodyguard’, he ‘steals’ Assan for himself plenty and they usually end up breaking something. But he’s pumped for Davrin’s book and steals figurines for a board game he’s designing. Davrin carves more of the same figurines once he notices and he’ll give him guff about it but he’lll still carve more.

They hold regular workouts with Taash and Worne is regularly handed his ass in any kind of martial training. Like Davrin, Taash, Lucanis, Harding…look, Worne’s excuse is his fighting style is brutal and not made for sparring. Like he’s not going to take out your eye here okay? He swears if this was real he’s winning. It’s doubtful. Davrin is his other platonic half but deep bonds are all around the Veilguard pretty quick, they’re family.

Neve is his beloved queen of an older sister, Lucanis is that quietly hilarious guy you’re actually scared of because he could kill you but he’s hopelessly in love with your sister who is too good for him but they make each other better and he better not fuck it up or you’re egging his ridiculous ass mansion daily. Spite is his bff. Assan is his twin. Bellara is his kid sister and he’s ready to shill her book. Emmrich has banned Bellara and Worne from unsupervised projects together because something always explodes and someone is going to lose an eye.

Taash is a rival that he always loses to, they’re the Goku to his Vegeta, he’s always a level behind and ‘furious’ about it. They’re always good naturedly flipping each other off. Harding is an equal sibling, she knew Varric, she holds a special place almost as close as Davrin, but it’s softer and they spend a lot of time talking and tending the garden together. Emmrich joins them sometimes. I can’t talk Manfred. It hurts.

Romantically close with?

Emmrich. Listen, it was a while on the road with just Varric and Harding, he was touch starved by the time they found the necromancer. This is not his first dalliance with a lover older than himself, that was never a concern. Had that mage clocked for a fun time minutes into meeting. He was not expecting romance. Thought they would have some fun, kill some gods, go on their way. But it very quickly morphed into something way way deeper. Like within weeks they’re living like an old married couple. That companionable ‘alone together’ all the time. They share a deep kindness, curiosity, and love of life. The fact that those core qualities come out in differing hobbies, likes, and manners is a delight to them both.

Of course they do share a near equal amount in common, it’s a nice balance at the end of the day when they want to be tangled up reading on the couch together. Little acts of service were almost immediate between them, just came naturally. Like here, made your cup of tea I was in the kitchen, oh I was in town got your favorite croissant and wouldn’t you know they were selling flowers, did you want to read this paper I finished? Oh is that a stray hair on your jacket, and have you hydrated you’re getting cranky. It’s just very obvious that they’re incredibly mindful of each other. Like second night at gathered dinner Worne knows what to pass Emmrich’s way and vice versa without asking, they’re just doing stuff for each other all the time as if it’s always been that way. They didn’t realize they were doing it, they’re just that way as people and literally couldn’t stop thinking about each other. The rest of the group could see how quick it was before they did. Easier to see the water when you’re not in it, the rest of the Veilguard could see them swimming together from the start.

Worne does see Emmrich as sheltered and naive and needing extra eyes on him outside of Nevarra. Like he’s the oldest of the group but also the most likely to get scammed or stabbed and Worne is ready to kill the person that thinks to try. Emmrich sees Worne as the indomitable chaotic force that he is, and does what he can to pump those breaks lest the Warden burn out. They both deeply care and are trying to keep the other safe in the ways they know how.

They both love how much they have to learn from the other and will yap about their very opposing life experiences and what they’ve gathered from it. At core Worne is dragging Emmrich out of those crypts to come live that ‘adventure’ with him. And Emmrich is trying to make sure Worne stays alive at this point so they can have their quiet (and not) evenings together when the days adventuring is through. Like please do not eat that thing you found on the ground it might carry the disease that does you in.

And they’re both degenerates and loving that. The Veilguard is aware and wish they weren’t so but Worne and Emmrich can’t help it okay they’re fools in love.

(The dynamic is very we can afford a plumber why are you reading a DIY to install the new sink, please I’m taking the car to the mechanic tomorrow how and why did you get the engine out? But oh that does look interesting. Did you have a good time at Paths of Glory night with Johanna? Yes book club was lovely as always. And they do not play board games or any type of games together anymore. It’s not good for their relationship and they know it and respect it. Worne does not like book club because he would rather just be reading.)

Who are they suspicious of?

The Viper. What secrets are under that mask. Those eyes. That voice. Also anyone named Eric. Nobles. Every noble is a suspect. Rich folk as well. Worne is suspicious of anyone with too much wealth, somehow his brain overlooks how rich Emmrich is. He can’t let it register because it would be such a ‘flaw’, like maybe we’re stealing all these things? If he knew the amounts Emmrich had paid on things for him he would lose his goddamn mind. Like go run in Arlathan for a week straight to atone, what has he become. He’s suspicious of wealth, doesn’t care for it, doesn’t value it beyond the security it gives and the power it might have for others safety.

Worne is suspicious of Vorgoth but more in the art scene criminality way than wondering what they might be. They’re a bastard is what they are. They’re a bastard for having a collection that good in private. Myrna isn’t suspicious she is business and he keeps a healthy respectful distance away from that kind of power. For now. He’s starting to figure out how this Necropolis works. He’s suspicious of necromancy as an instinct, and is throwing a hard look at Nevarra because it’s not ‘Emmrich’, it’s something else, he loves Emmrich, he thought Nevarra would be that. It’s not, and he's not sure he likes what he’s seeing. Pretty sure he hates it.

Does your Rook get along with their chosen faction?

Nope. Well, he loves the people. The Wardens are his kin. But he loathes the institution and the managing of it. Despises anything to do with the Joining, blight, darkspawn, and there is a piece deep down that is bitter that he never had a real choice when it came to where his life led. Like this type of thing, the thing he is a part of is wrong, or at least the way it operates and gains new Wardens is. The leadership loathes him, and uses him, but the people within would put their lives on the line for him. He’d hate that. Like he’ll always be a Warden to other Wardens, they’re family forever, but he’s done with the organization by the time he’s with Varric. He never planned on going back. He doesn’t want to fight stuff that makes his blood crawl. Doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. He’d die for the Wardens, but he’d never die for The Grey Wardens if that makes sense.

Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Nope. But he is quite accomplished at whistling, but that’s a private affair.

Weapon of choice?

Daggers, knives, fists, literally anything in the near vicinity that might help. It’s very chaotic and brutal, there is no rhythm to it. Almost purposefully so, and he seems to risk or take hits to get in close for a lethal bleeding strike.

What is their orientation?

Slut. But a discerning slut. He’s too old to be wasting time with selfish lovers at this point. But if someone is up for learning him he’s game for studying them in a heartbeat.

What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Necessary. He’s not a pacifist. This is survival here and people are going to do what they can to live. He doesn’t enjoy it. Never has. He’d rather the need for it completely disappear, but he’s not one to hesitate. If it’s us or them he’s making damn certain it’s them. He killed that mayor. Money is never above people and he does not believe in the ‘death or Joining’ choice. He’s not sending anyone to a Joining. Just kill ‘em. He doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite.

What hobbies does your Rook have?

He loves reading, he had a hard time hiding his excitement when he realized just how many books Emmrich was moving in with. And that was only part of the collection from home?! That was his main excuse for constantly being in Emmrich’s study, and obviously he’d be quiet and out of the way and he couldn’t take the books out with him they’d get dirty or lost. He was in there as much as possible from day one.

Also loves any type of game and is notorious for never losing and always cheating. Says cheating without getting caught is part of every game, it’s an important lesson to learn. Johanna plays with him. Aware of the ruleset that all cheating goes. You only lose for cheating if you get caught, that’s their only stipulation. Their games are overly long or surprisingly short, and either deadly silent or violently loud, but it’s obvious to everyone they’re having the time of their lives. Their record against each other is neck and neck and no one can stand to play with them.

Emmrich originally tried to stay for a game or stick around for the companionship but he can’t be in the same room. It’s just…no he doesn’t know the rule from appendix F, please stop yelling about weighted dice rolls, for spirits sake would they stop fighting and he can’t think he’s leaving. And that’s when they gossip. Look, they both love Emmrich, they wish he could join in the gossip. But the man can’t lie to save his life, he’s horrible at keeping secrets. They can’t trust him with the best bits for his own safety. They’ll keep yelling about the game in between discussing the latest juiciest gossip Thedas has to offer.

Worne is always down to celebrate, party, bar hop, what have you. Being the party is a hobby alright and he’s practiced. Like he can’t plan well but he’s good at conjuring one if there are enough people and drinks and food. Usually starts with plenty of drinking games and assorted challenges and hijinks and ends with telling or sharing stories. He can’t write, never learned or practiced, but loves to tell a story, he’s proud to say they’re never told the same way twice. Emmrich made him some pens that can write what he dictates and Worne loves them dearly, uses them for bare fact journaling, but it’s just not the same as speaking. He tells stories he doesn’t write books. And he does it in bars. Or at parties. Or really for anyone that might want or needs one. He wants his stories alive in a way, putting them to paper makes them one thing and he doesn’t want that.

He loves being a part of griffon training but is no help. More hindrance than anything but he is fascinated. He’s also an avid runner when it comes to fitness. Running is survival he says and would be the ultra marathon type. When all else has failed running has saved him more often than not. None of the Veilguard can go on runs with him, they’ve tried. Taash is faster, but they can’t run so fast for nearly as long. He’ll just take off and be gone all day to Arlathan sometimes. Loves to see the sights at his own speed. They’re pretty sure that’s when the whistling is practiced at some point, but that’s Worne time you don’t interrupt.

Oh! And very recently he’s taken up gardening and he loves it, just absolutely delights. It started when he went to talk with Harding plenty and he started helping with her collection. Turns out Worne is a natural with plants. He’s better with them than Harding or Emmrich. Plants love Worne like spirits love Emmrich.

What NPCs do they like? Which ones do they dislike?

Okay so he was smitten by Dorian. That take down of the First Warden? The blatant fucking lying to his face? He was done in then. Instant comrades. Take me now thoughts. And listen. I feel like Dorian wouldn’t be able to crack Worne unless he targeted his very blatant weak spot for Emmrich. Like being snarky to Worne will just delight him. A good joke at his expense is an excellent joke. He’ll up the ante on himself. He would be pretty damn defensive of Emmrich if something felt off there, but Worne is one to see charming bluster and respond with delightful sincerity. So he likes going to the Shadow Dragons, he’s desperately trying to get a read on the relationship between Emmrich and Dorian, like what in the world are they now. He’s asking Johanna what that teaching Dorian period looked like for Emmrich but she can’t speak through the laughter.

Not a fan of Strife. He can feel it. The ‘what if’ and he doesn’t like taking Emmrich to Arlathan.

He smuggles illegal cheese for Myrna and has a contentious…something with Vorgoth. Vorgoth mostly ignores him but Worne is not a fan and is frustrated that Vorgoth is keeping their art collection all to themselves. Have a collection but art is for the people, he’s stealing that shit. Antoine and Evka are his parents, Mila is his niece. I have a deep feeling in my chest that Isabella loves him and he loves Isabella. Like maybe she lets him help do the announcements for fights sometimes and he likes to hang out at the pits if it isn’t a Docktown night. He makes fun of her for almost dooming Kirkwall with that theft of hers and laughs about the fixes she made to the Lords because of it. They talk Varric a lot. Worne really did love him, he shaped himself around the dwarf’s stories to survive, credits Varric for who he is. And he loves Rivain, like has a favorite tree hammock to sleep in there but cities hold his heart. Isabella feels like family, like an aunt he goes to visit and she keeps an eye on him since he lost Varric.

The Crows think he is actually insane. Cacophony of mierdas when he strolls in. What the fuck kind of rogue is that no, don’t wear the cape like that. Dear god take the cape off you will fall in the canal. Worne likes Treviso, he saved Treviso, but it’s too ‘rich’ for him. Like wearing tight tailored pants that make you walk funny. The fit is wrong. And he is just way too careless around very dangerous Crow things. Do not give him a fancy knife he will hurt himself messing with it and accidentally drink poison, why would you keep it in such a fancy glass? For some reason the most uninhibited part of his brain flicks on around the Crows and he becomes a ball of unbridled curiosity. He wants to learn about the ‘real rogue stuff’, and dives headlong in without a care for safety, just a desire to know and try and see, but it is not a fit for him. Crow style is the flame to Worne’s moth. They could never take him in as a fledgling, how would they train out those habits? They’re crows, he’s a raccoon.

Do they have a favorite creature in Thedas?

Griffons. He still can’t believe they’re real and back. He praises Assan too much. Inflates that ego to extreme proportions but he loves those weird cat birds and can’t wait until they’re big enough to take him flying in Arlathan. Emmrich is currently working with Bellara on a device that might slow one's descent when falling from great heights. The reality of it is that Worne is not great at caring for the griffons. They’re too alike. He’s too much of a kid around them. Davrin is the adult here, he’s looking after an annoying pair of younger brothers. Worne is not helping go tend to your plants.

Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

He’s an adventurer? Worne sees himself as a guy. He’s just going from necessary task to necessary task to stay alive. Started with finding food as a kid, and wouldn't you know he has to kill god now or everyone dies, funny how it escalates like that. But yes. He loves life and living it despite everything. He’s not letting his path dictate his mood. That’s the indomitable spirit.

What would your Rook be doing if they weren’t recruited by Varric?

He’d still be out there killing darkspawn as a Warden. Possibly dead at Weisshaupt. Possibly dead in Lavendell. But hopefully hanging out with his parents Antoine and Evka.

How do you think they’ll meet their end?

Oof. He’s terrified of the Calling. And drowning. He’s hydrophobic. Thankfully no more Calling? Looking like he might be able to die old and peaceful at home, I think that’s the dream. I don’t like the alternative.

Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Oh he would tear Solas’ throat out with his teeth if that was a viable option. The only reason he’s willing to work with that traitorous piece of shit in the end is because it’s what Varric would’ve wanted. He doesn’t think about Solas or he’ll get mad. When he sees Dorian the first thing he will do is bring up how much of a shithead Solas is and how much he hates him and they’re off. If you notice Worne doesn’t hate much, he is very much a lover and liker of things. He hates Solas. Even more than he hates nobles and rich folk. He loathes a betrayer. Solas got his happy end, but that’s because Worne respected the fuck out of Lavellan. That was for her, Solas can suck an egg. And he’s going to shit talk her choice with Dorian as therapy, like love her, but fuck can you believe? He’s still mad. About Varric. About the blood magic. Like deeply justly pissed the fuck off over it. But like. Good for them. I guess.

What is your Rook’s favorite ability?

iframes. Hahaha, but no anything that stacks bleed. Cut ‘em up bleed ‘em out.

What languages is your character fluent in?

Common and conversational in dwarven. He’s not to Davrin’s level, but working as a Warden in the Deep Roads as long as he has it’s helpful to learn as much as you can.

What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Chess puzzles now that he has access to the books for it. Or any other game. Varric mentioned that it could be helpful when he was a kid. Recent trauma? Rote task moving pieces, nothing too difficult, puzzles. I like to imagine Thedas has a ‘Go’ equivalent and that’s likely his favorite for it. You could make a board for that out of dirt and stones and you bet he does. Emmrich gets him his first real set after Weisshaupt, Worne needs it. Do not mention how much Emmrich spent on it, that will upset him. Oh and he wants to fuck, go full no thoughts a bit.

Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Nope. He’s killed a lot of people and hasn’t seen any come back. Doesn’t want to. Feels wrong. He honestly doesn’t care to talk about it much to Emmrich’s dismay. It’s one subject that kind of depresses Worne, he’s lost a lot of people. No afterlife, an afterlife, either reality isn’t something he wants to dwell on.

What specialization best represents your Rook?

Duelist. But he is not a fancy fighter, no official training besides what they could give here and there at Weisshaupt, he’s got a lot of bad habits. Varric always said it was his constitution and spirit that kept him alive. Like he’s coming along to fight the gods because the worst flu and situations in Darktown couldn’t take him out and neither could the worst the Warden leadership could send him to. He got into Lucanis’ poisons and declared them ‘spicy’. He’s got Kirkwall’s own luck, but he’s also got it’s blood.

What animal best represents your Rook?

A street dog. You know the type. Can’t quite tell the breed, or the age, but they’ll lead you to the best hiking paths and follow you around town for pets and love. Separating cat fights, walking the streets, getting a snack someone left out for him. Won’t go home with you because he belongs to the world at large but you’ll enjoy all the time he spent with you that day. Ruggedly handsome fellow if not show quality. Like the entire town knows and loves this dog, that’s everyone’s dog. People will let you know that if you get lost just follow that dog and he’ll keep you safe from getting mugged or worse, bring you where you need to go. That kinda street dog. That’s Worne. The raccoon nature is just him as a man, it’s intrinsic.

What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

Worne’s entire life has been one of survival. Just a series of escalations to this point really. He’s good at keeping the mood light and easy because he’s a frog in the boiling pot, this is just life yeah? He knows how to have joy in the midst of all that mayhem and survival. Like yeah it’s shit, I don’t have to be.

The pipeline was orphan in Darktown, street kid, thief, pickpocket. Varric named him Rook at six and got him into stories and books and would send what jobs he could. From there just kept in that ‘criminal pipeline’ until it led to gallows or Grey Wardens. Hated life as a Warden and let his disgust be known, always sent to the worst most dangerous jobs and always came crawling back with whoever they sent with him. Last job was the final straw but look, Varric needs him. Fuck was he ever excited for that.

Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

Worne is very serious about being the leader, but quietly so he doesn’t talk to anyone about it. Varric called him his second and he holds that with a heavy pride and sense of responsibility. After all, a leader serves, a leader doesn’t ask a follower to do any job they wouldn’t. He’s leading from the front and would never expect anyone else to take up such a dangerous position for him. This is the best way he can keep them all safe, and hey they all have specialities and things they’re very good at that are needed to kill the gods. His job is to keep the group together and on task and alive. Like he’ll take opinions and input. But when push comes to shove on Veilguard issues he will have the last word because that’s his responsibility.

He would rather be gardening, reading, running, playing games or doing nothing in a bar. But he is good at what he does. Varric named him second because he saw that flicker for running a tight group of ‘professionals’ through the worst possible situations. His entire life has been escalating worse scenarios he’s had to survive. He’s got experience with this. He’s not made for large organizations, nah he’s your heist man. He’s going to rob that bank or that art gallery with this group of degenerates. When it’s time for the real professional crime he’s your guy. But Varric would be the only soul that really knows the depth of that. And it’s not because Worne is exceedingly good at planning, he’s exceedingly good at creating and utilizing chaos, and he’ll cheat. He can flood a river so only he can ford it. Not many can stay so calm and lucid within it all but chaos is life for Worne and he swims it natural. To the Veilguard he’s just Worne, they’ve never questioned following him, he’s always there for them and first to the most dangerous task. Like he’s everyone’s big brother and you know he’ll get you home. Once those gods are dead he’s retired though, he’s claiming his rest.

If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

You know he’d have the most fun being a poor Lord of Fortune. Like he doesn’t care a wit or a wink for gold but they seem to be having fun over there and he loves Isabella. But in all actuality he knows he’d go to the Shadow Dragons. Cities are home and he wouldn’t be able to rest right knowing he could help and they would take him. The whole mess in Minrathous is eating at him and he wants to fix it. Feels he has to fix it because he chose Treviso didn’t he? He wants to see Dorian in charge of things and help Neve navigate the Threads world with his experience from Kirkwall. Maybe steer away from what messed him up and get it more union style at the docks.

What’s your favorite thing about your Rook?

Look he’s just some guy trying to eat a croissant in peace at the park with his book and he’s waiting on a good chess game. Get him a cigarette and out of Nevarra.

Bonus: some of the characters that inspired him.

Look wise he’s a lower grade Faramir with brown eyes in my head. Personality wise uuuh reading all this holy shit that’s a lot lol, umm I think I based him off that street dog. Ahahaha I’m trying to think of others and I don’t know. I’ll edit in if I think of any but he was inspired by the thought ‘who would support the lich choice when in love?’ And well a besotted Warden terrified of the blight was my answer. These two idiots fucked up. This was a lovely break from that.

[stewy]

i saw your tags about cameron being more similar to house than wilson and if you have any notes or explanations on that i'd love to hear them! cameron is such an interesting character and i feel like she's really not analyzed enough

she isn't! idk if it's because people simply forget the earlier seasons as they progress with the show, but they forget cameron is an actual character who is written as consistently as any other character in the show save for house himself. not liking her is one thing but to dismiss her as if she isn't one of the most important people in house's life when her love literally got him out of that building is. lol

cam and wilson have a lot of similarities: they’re self-sacrificing to a detrimental extent, they value social niceties and acts of kindness, caring and empathetic, multiple marriages, in love with a sewer rat, etc. but they sort of stop there. cameron is a strongly moral character; wilson’s morals are flexible to the point of being barely there. cameron won’t sacrifice her values for the sake of making anyone feel better; all that wilson cares about is making other people feel better, preferably to his own detriment. cameron is much more sensitive and emotionally driven than wilson imo, you can see her actively struggle to put her feelings in the backseat in pretty much every situation, while that seems to come as second nature to wilson (though cameron gets better at that through experience). but she is also much more stable and true to herself than wilson, who struggles with letting his true feelings show with anyone other than house (simply because he knows his friend won’t give a shit). you see house call cameron “pathetically sincere” and that’s something you’d never hear him say about wilson considering his pathology is that he loves Everybody, with no discrimination. i think their specialties also speak to their own personalities: wilson is an oncologist, all of his patients already have cancer and most likely will die from it; his job is to treat them but it’s also to make them feel better about their imminent fate. cameron is an immunologist, taking care of someone’s autoimmune system with the sole focus of getting them stronger. this is also their approach to house himself btw

house and cameron are two sides of the same coin. a lot of people would disagree with me & hugh laurie in saying that house is a strongly moral character, but he is. the difference between himself & cameron is that he doesn't care what people do with their lives. if someone wants to kill themselves after he's done treating them, that's their problem. even when she despised the patient, she couldn't dare to see them live in pain (informed consent) or to play god and kill them herself (the tyrant). they're both extremely sensitive, stubborn and closed off. isolating themselves to the point of making their significant others (stacy and chase) feel lonely in the relationship. they both often look insane to everyone else, but have an innate understanding of each other. cameron opened herself up to house in a way she could never do with chase because she saw him, and she was the only person he truly emotionally connected with other than wilson. she was bothered by his impersonality and he was bothered by her sensitivity, because she wore with pride something he thought made him (and other humans) lesser. they tried to bring characters like masters & adams (even park?) to act as foil to house but it didn't work because they lacked what cameron and house had: a relationship.

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Recombinant Miles Quaritch x OC

My Little Scientist- Chapter One

Warnings: Smut themes, Minors DNI

2,182 words

Blue skin glistening with sweat moved over bulging muscles that showed years of dedication, beads of sweat dripping down a long neck before pooling at the clavicle. Gaia's tongue instinctively dipped out of her mouth to lick her lips.

"Quit eye fucking the colonel for once Gaia."

"I was not!"

She spat, tearing her eyes away from his tall form as he commanded his troupes so effortlessly in the heat of the Pandoran sun.

"Oh you so were, you've got it baaad for him."

Her good friend and fellow scientist June smirked.

"Ugh as if, that man is so.."

She trailed off, thankful to be interrupted by Mike.

"What are we talking about here ladies?"

He asked, slapping his food tray down beside them both, taking a seat next to June.

"Oh just Gaia's hopeless crush on Colonel Quaritch."

"Pahahah, oh I would not have expected that."

They both teased, much too loud for her liking as she covered her cheeks in her palms, attempting to hide her heated face.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON THE COLONEL."

She all but screeched, taking an aggressive bite from the bread roll in front of her.

"Oh so you just want to fuck him then, coz honey the way you looked at that man I thought you were about to go into heat,"

June jibed, both her and mike howling with laughter at their own hilarious nature.

"How would it even work? I mean their dicks must be at least 15 inches,"

Mike chipped in, watching intently as Junes eyes crinkled with laughter, small tear droplets forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Now who's the one thinking about their dicks?"

Gaia only mumbled, attempting to ignore them both to steal another glance at the colonel out on the field. She really didn't have a crush on him, as a scientist she just appreciated the technology it took to create such a brilliant warrior's physique- was all she thought as her eyes glazed over his massive forearms, striped like a tigers fur.

"There she goes again, earth to Gaia,"

June snapped her fingers in front of her face making her glower.

"Wow you really need to get laid,"

another man you didn't know too well mused, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation.

"Go away Abe, only me and Mike are allowed to tease Gaia, I'll absolutely destroy you if you upset my baby,"

June giggled, pinching her cheeks and cooing, causing her to swat her hand away and grumble in annoyance.

"Can you and Mike stop flirting in front of me its making me sick,"

she narrowed your eyes at Mike whilst June pretended to dry heave dramatically.

"Oh stop being grumpy because a certain someone hasn't noticed you,"

Mike Laughed halfheartedly, pushing at her forehead.

"Why don't you try and make a move Gai?"

June questioned, for once in sincerity. She were silent in thought for a moment before answering honestly.

"Come on, the Colonel's not gonna go for a girl like me,"

her eyes cast downwards a little as she attempted to hide her disappointment.

"Don't be like that, you're gorgeous trust me,"

June stroked her arm softly to cheer her up.

"You have to say that you're my friend,"

she whined, tipping her head back in frustration.

"Um I certainly do not, I can tell Mike he looks exactly like a sewer rat even though we're friends."

"Hey!"

Mike slapped her arm playfully causing them to fall into another argument as Gaia tuned out, thoughts mainly focused on a certain soldier and how they looked during strenuous physical exercise.

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

After her lunch, Gaia had settled back into the lab, running through various samples of Pandoran plants, yielding fascinating results about the connection between the planet and every living being. It truly was a wonderful place and how she wished she could inhabit her very own recombinant body.

A firm knock at the door ripped her from her thoughts and her eyes almost popped out of her skull at the sight of the Colonel himself stooping underneath the doorframe to enter her own tucked away laboratory.

"ahem,"

he cleared his throat, seeming a little out of place in such a small room.

"I was told I'd find the Na'vi expert here,"

he gestured to her, keeping a wide stance with one hand resting on his belt loops.

"Um I wouldn't say expert,"

she faltered, causing his gaze to harden.

"But I mean, I'm one of the scientists currently studying the interactions between Pandora and the organisms that inhabit it,"

she babbled nervously, the catlike golden eyes in front of her causing her to stutter as they seemed intent on holding her gaze.

"Gaia Ambros?"

He questioned, raising a brow, seemingly unimpressed at her insecure nature.

"Yep that's me sir."

"Well then.."

His grimace turned into a predatory smile, eyes glowing as they bored into her own intensely,

"They tell me that you're the expert round here darlin', How's about you give me some lessons in this whole Na'vi bullshit?"

He cocked his head to the side, causing her cheeks to heat up further at the nickname as she struggled not to let her eyes drop to admire his impressive form up close.

"uh...lessons?"

She asked incredulously, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

"That's what I said lil' darlin', I don't like repeating myself,"

he tutted, growing impatient with this drawn out conversation.

"Um, well I guess I can teach you what I know about Pandora if you want sir... when would you like me to?"

She asked, craning her neck from her seated position to meet his eyes once again.

"In the evening at 19:00 sharp, come to my office,"

he commanded, not acknowledging nor thanking her for her offer as he turned to stride away, ducking under the door frame and vanishing as quickly as he had appeared, leaving her head spinning with possibilities as she tried to refocus herself on the samples in front of her that had long since lost their intrigue.

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

"He did what?"

June screeched in her ear as she tried to hush her on her way to the canteen.

"He just said he wanted lessons about Pandora,"

she attempted to speak calmly, knowing she had her first little meeting in only a few hours.

"Lessons my ass, there's gotta be another reason he wants you all alone in his office at night,"

she wiggled her eyebrows at Gaia.

"Maybe he just wants some relief after his long hard days as a Colonel, it must be so difficult,"

she mused, dropping into a deep register to impersonate his voice,

"Oh Gaia just try to fit it in, just the tip will be enough, yeah that's it, there's a good little scientist."

Gaia practically shoved her into the wall, storming off in front of her, attempting to purge the dirty scenarios out of her mind before she would have to be in a room alone with the man.

"Oh come on I was just teasing,"

June pouted at her, hoping to win her forgiveness.

"Sure,"

she murmured, taking her seat at the usual table beside Mike and a few of the other scientists. June then began a dramatic retelling of her story with the Colonel to the whole table, causing giggles to be heard all round as Gaia hung her head in shame, trying to fill the pit in her stomach with the food in front of you.

"Oh yeah, I set that up,"

Mike stated nonchalantly as he continued to eat the stew and stale bread provided by the RDA.

"You what?"

Gaia finally tuned back in, confusion set in her features as she wondered how on earth he could have.

"Pulled a few strings, got some RDA soldier mates and higher ups you know, just recommended you for one of their special missions, said you were keen to work with the Colonel yada yada... I guess it's not something they hear everyday,"

he snorted, making her eyes widen in shock for the second time that day. Cursing out at the thought that the whole ship now practically thinks she's begging for the Colonel's dick and she wished the ground could swallow her then and there.

"You can thank me later,"

he smirked, patting her back smugly as she sat stunned, still processing the news.

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

7pm unfortunately rolled around far too quickly and Gaia trudged her feet towards the huge recombinant Colonel's office, somewhat terrified of what would occur.

"Well there you are goldilocks, you gonna come in or stand there all day?"

Herr mouth ran dry, looking up at the sneering man as he gestured her into his office- equipped with an enormous chair, desk, even a Na'vi sized coffee mug sat on the table. It all made her feel a bit like Alice in wonderland if she was honest.

"Yes sir,"

she mumbled, stepping in tentatively and looking around in bewilderment

"Oh take a seat wherever you want darlin',"

he jutted his chin out, referencing her awkward stance as he calmly lowered himself in the chair behind his desk. So she took the liberty of attempting to drag another large chair to the opposite side of the table in order to face him, failing miserably as she found she was unable to even move the thing an inch, huffing in frustration at the pathetic display.

"Oh right, sorry there,"

a voice rang out from behind her and the chair was lifted from her hands by two much larger blue ones to place it effortlessly in the location she'd been struggling so much to bring it to. Half of her wondered if the colonel had purposefully not moved the chair prior to her arrival to watch her suffer.

"Um thanks,"

she murmured, blushing darkly as she eventually slumped down in the large chair, making an effort not to brush her legs with her superior.

"So what have you got for me today goldilocks?"

The nickname made her squint in annoyance, she'd almost prefer if he'd just come out and call her a dumb blonde.

"I was going to teach you about the connection between Pandora and the Na'vi people,"

she straightened herself out, watching him raise his eyebrows and smirk, his eyes telling her to go ahead.

She continued with her little speech for a while, as the Colonel eventually leaned his head on his hands, eyes studying her face curiously and allowing their legs to lean together comfortably in the tight space.

After an hour had passed she deemed it long enough and decided to end the lesson.

"Well that was... interesting,"

Colonel Quaritch mused, showing his fangs a little when he spoke.

"Hmm I'm glad you thought so,"

she replied attempting to ignore his sarcasm.

"Well I'd better get going,"

she began to push herself up from the chair but a foot knocked her leg out from under her, causing her to fall back down. She glared at the culprit, only causing his smug smile to widen.

"Not so fast sunshine, I have another proposition for you."

She gulped nervously, why did the question sound so suggestive coming from his mouth?

"u-m and what would that be sir?

"Calm down brainiac I'm not gonna force you to... anyway.."

he coughed, laughing to himself.

"I'm going on a mission to the Na'vi forest in the next three days, I would like you to accompany me and my troupes to help us...connect with 'Eywa'."

He seemed disbelieving of her teachings but nevertheless, she'd never pass up the chance to see Pandora up close.

"Absolutely Sir,"

she rocked forward in your chair in sheer excitement.

"Well then, ain't that outstanding"

He clapped a hand down on her shoulder, the force leaving shockwaves ringing through her body, reminding her of how pathetically weak she was in comparison with both the recombinants and any Na'vi people she might stumble upon during the mission.

"Sir,"

she tested the waters before propositioning her question to him. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, before quickly withdrawing his hand as though he may have offended her.

"I have a question for you."

"Well ask away sunshine I haven't got all day."

He crossed his arms over his chest, causing the muscles in his arms to strain against his taut skin, rippling whenever he shifted slightly.

"Well It's just as a human I'm so weak,"

she paused watching a smirk appear on his lips.

"In return for helping you and your soldiers, I'd like to request my own recombinant body."

"Ahh, I see sunshine, I think that can be arranged for you... since you've been so generous."

He looked down at her mockingly, though soon she hoped they would be on equal footings, more or less. She nodded at him, starting to leave, hoping he wouldn't kick her back into her seat again.

"See you in three days cupcake, don't make me wait."

He called after her and she had the slightest feeling his eyes were burning holes into her back as she sauntered away, feeling quite proud of the arrangement she'd come to.

[theother9tenths]

To say that Gortash’s coronation was an illuminating experience would be an understatement. As you descend the stairs, his words swirl in your mind, one sentence standing out in particular.

“Gods, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

The way he’d said it had surprised you. You’d expected hostility, even disgust. But the look on his face, mischievous and autocratic though it was, had been almost… relieved? If you removed the layers of blind ambition and tyrannical superiority… it was almost as if he was happy to see you.

Of course, upon revealing your lack of memories, his face fell into a mask of indifferent amusement, that of a person who holds all the possible cards. He revealed the whole awful truth of it. This whole mess that you and your friends are in instigated by none other than you yourself. Everything you’ve apparently done. Everything the two of you have apparently done together.

“I tolerated Orin. But I liked you.”

Your skin hasn’t stopped crawling since he said the sentence, coated in a decadent layer of hidden meaning. You agree to the alliance numbly, The Emperor reminding you that you can break it if needed. You can barely pay attention to the sham coronation, despite Wyll’s anxiety for his father’s safety radiating next to you.

The whole thing is too much, but the sinking pit of your thoughts is instantly made worse by Gale’s comment.

“Well. It seems you have a type,” he throws out half-jokingly as the group of you stroll across the bridge out of Wyrm’s Rock toward the Lower City. “I’ll endeavor to be retroactively less hurt at your firm rejection of my past advances.”

Before you can protest, your type in question does it for you.

“Excuse me,” drolls Astarion. “I sincerely hope you’re not implying that that slippery worm and I belong to the same category.”

Wyll’s voice cuts in. “Dark, brooding, power-hungry, and clearly traumatized? Yeah, I can see it.”

“If it’s any consolation, Astarion,” You can hear Gale’s smirk without having to turn and look. “You’re much prettier than he is.”

“Can we just focus on finding an inn?” you blurt out, turning back to the group. “We’re finally in the city and I don’t know about you lot but I’d like to put some of this gold we’ve looted to good use.”

The three of them blink at you for a moment before Wyll concedes. “Right as usual,” he admits. “No use in being rich in coin if we end up sleeping on the docks.”

One figurative (and literal) song and dance later, the group settles into the Elfsong Tavern, and Astarion approaches you. He stands silently as you remove your armored boots for the evening, watching.

“...Yes?”

“I’d like to hear it from you,” he says with a pout.

“What?”

“That I’m prettier than him,” he clarifies, his tone breezy. “I would certainly hope I am considering how I spent two centuries using my beauty to lure in victims for Cazador and Gortash looks like a sewer rat who polymorphed into a man, but I’ve got this awful issue with mirrors, as you know.”

[randomthefox]

I have never seen a SINGLE ISSUE of Archie Sonic that looked even passingly readable as a legitimate book of sequential art on its own merits as a stand alone piece of media. Let alone one that didn't ACTIVELY ENRAGE ME as a fan of the Sonic video games.

I sincerely and honestly do not think that anybody actually and sincerely enjoys this comic book. I think everybody who thinks they enjoy it simply has read so much of it that their brain has been rotted and they don't remember what decent quality writing is anymore. It's like if you cook and eat nothing but sewer rats for long enough, eventually your brain acclimates and starts thinking that it tastes good.

Look at the way people who like Archie Sonic talk about it. They don't talk about it like it's a real piece of art. They don't talk about it the way I talk about the video games for example. Analyzing thematic throughlines. Charting and dissecting character development. Analyzing cinematic intentions and symbolism.

They talk about the fucking comic like it's a daytime soap opera. In a language they don't speak. It's nothing but posting panels from the comic and going

This comic isn't fit to be my fucking toilet paper.

[sewinrat]

Randal x Unhinged!Human!Reader who just loves how weird and feral he is.

I just think the idea is funny af

Whoever sent this, I love you - this gotta be my favourite request so far. If anyone remembers kindergarten game, that's how technically unhinged you'll act.

"Hey, you wanna try some dirt?" You offered a handful of dirt to some random kid with glasses. You grinned brightly as your face is covered in dirt, mud and grass. The said random kid grinned unnervingly yet cutely and exclaim in happiness, "Yes please!" He snatched the dirt from your hands and eat it quickly, making his glasses titled and face messy.

You laugh in glee and continue to play with the ground, now with a fun company who had introduced himself as Randal. A funny friend indeed. He rants on and on about his fun adventures, especially with his family or whoever this 'Satoru' is. In exchange for listening, he listens to your rants about your messed up school that experiments on children but you managed to blow it up with some game cards. It's a fun silly story telling you both had.

Soon after, you meet his family because Randal didn't came home before curfew so they had to physically pick him up. Literally. The cat with the 'Nevada' on his shirt picked him up by the collar and Randal started to struggle while whining about wanting to play more. Luther promises that you both will meet again, he just cannot go home late at night or else. You piped in saying you can visit his house sometimes, bringing the infamous card game you told him about with you to play. Luckily, Luther allowed you to visit and now you basically feel like you live there instead and visit home with how much sleepovers you both had.

"Wanna try some sand?" You offered to Randal as he stand his doll. He rapidly nods, "Yum! Yes please!" And you spoon fed him while he works on a 'very important' thing he's making.

[dragonfairy19]

A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Wedding

The sewers of New York City were abuzz with excitement. The Ninja Turtles, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo, were getting married!

The Wedding Day

The wedding was a grand affair, held in a hidden cavern deep beneath the city. The Turtles' friends and allies, including Splinter, April, Karai, and Casey's father, were all in attendance.

* The Ceremony: The ceremony was conducted by a wise old rat named Master Yoshi, who had been a mentor to Splinter. The vows were heartfelt and sincere, and the couple's love for each other was evident.

* The Reception: The reception was a celebration of love and friendship. There was plenty of pizza, cake, and dancing. The Turtles and their brides shared their first dance as a married couple, surrounded by their loved ones.

The Honeymoon

The newlyweds decided to spend their honeymoon on a tropical island. They enjoyed swimming, sunbathing, and exploring the beautiful scenery. It was a much-needed break from the dangers of their lives as ninja turtles.

The wedding of the Ninja Turtles was a momentous occasion, marking a new chapter in their lives. It was a celebration of love, friendship, and the enduring bond between the four brothers.

[lordsovorn]

The sky above you is getting paler, the clouds disappearing in the white static. Between the rustle of leaves and the footsteps of horses, a quiet even hum is slowly growing louder. You can't yet point it out - and later on you'll simply be too used to it to notice.

...

Introduction to a setting I haven't posted about before.

...

More and more houses are dotted along the road. Tents, shanty towns, old taverns with overgrown gardens. Figures shuffle in the shadowy alleys of this limbo, neither out in the wild, nor inside the safety of the City.

Perhaps your village was ravaged by bloodthirsty marauders or merciless creatures of the night. Perhaps a storm came, and left it a twisted cobweb of molten stone and burnt bodies. Perhaps a maneater swamp slowly seeped under the foundations of your home until it was too late for everyone but you. Perhaps you've simply outgrown your tiny muddy bubble beneath the shifting gray sky. Either way, you seek safety, certainty and hope - and there is nowhere to go, ultimately, but to the White City.

Maybe it had a name, but it was forgotten. Maybe it never did, and was built from the ground up by the Company around the first Gates.

Either way, the White City is Civilization. It is the Center of the World - or what's left of it.

Few will get through the borders easily. Maybe you'll trudge through the colossal bureaucracic machine with passion in your eyes, favors and handshakes behind your back, valuables in hand and sheer persistence. Maybe you'll find a crack to slip in. Maybe you'll bribe a guard or pay a trafficker. Maybe you'll dig and crawl through the sewers. There are many ways forward, no road back.

Through the narrow passageways at the bottom, lit by lanterns and trashfires, followed by faceless gazes and stiff gestures. Through the maintenance tunnels with deep shadows and red lights, through the hanging megastructures extending far below, illuminated by cold projectors. You'll be lost in the labyrinth of towers above the streets. A spiderweb of rails, cables and bridges. Layer upon layer upon layer. Void-like black shadows from the intense light above.

Dirt like you isn't welcome on the gleaming cleanliness of its streets. If you want to stay, you'll stick to the alleys, to places where you are unseen. To the shadowy corners teaming with monsters, strangers and rats like you, from the strangest of places. Maybe you'll even find someone who will give a non-citizen work. Or maybe you'll tumble to the very bottom and rob those who are more lost than you, until a bigger fish comes along. Inevitably.

There are many paths through the City, literally and metaphorically. Maybe one day you'll even reach the marvelous floating villas and fortresses, anchored to huge spires. Factories with thousands of chimneys, vast halls of the University around the shimmering Gates, plazas, dotted with towering ceramic sentinels. Balloons and giant kites, black dots along the endlessly white sky.

Or maybe the stark, patient darkness below is the only thing that awaits you.

Strangers in the bars will laugh at you and call you lab meat. That is, if we are being sincere, an entirely possible outcome.

You need the City - there is nothing beyond it. So you'd better find a way to make the City need you.

[mastermatoyas]

Okay! So now that I’ve met all most of the Sun Haven romance candidates, I’m gonna make a post about my thoughts for my friends and followers so I can decide who I’m actually gonna marry in this game.

Long post under the cut!

Lucia is pretty rad! She’s got a lot of confidence, but isn’t arrogant or rude, which I really admire. So far she doesn’t seem that interested in romance, though, so it’s hard to see her as a marriage candidate. She’s still in the running!

Liam and Lynn are both the sweet and shy type, which is nice, but... not that interesting to me as a romance option. So I think I’ve eliminated them from the running.

Anne fucking rules but she is a capitalist, so it’s a no from me.

Catherine is very sweet and also is a hot bunny lady, but I haven’t gotten to know her that well yet. Still in the running!

Nathaniel is adorable. We love a true knight. For some reason I’ve been racking up heart points with him really easily, too. Definitely a contender. Look at that beard.

Jun is the town counselor, and he is overwhelmingly sweet and sincere at all times. I do dig the goth vibe, especially with the earrings. A contender.

Okay I’m still not sure if Claude is meant to actually be a vampire or just looks like one. Either way I’m into it. A contender.

I love Kitty’s design, and the fact that her hobbies include getting stuck in trees and eating raw fish. We stan. However, she ends every sentence with “nya” and I cannot deal with that. Not a contender.

Wornhardt! All I know about him so far is that he’s a doctor. Probably not a contender unless he does something interesting soon.

Darius! Rude asshole prince. He sucks. Definitely a contender.

Donovan. Lives in a sewer which is not ideal, but he is an absolute bro, so he’s a contender on that alone.

Xyla. Hot demon lady who keeps calling me a sewer rat. Definitely a contender.

Iris! I only interacted with her once. Her tattoos are cool. I know nothing else about her. Weirdly femme for someone who lives in the woods. In the “maybe” category.

Vaan! I also have only met him once so far. Also has cool tattoos, also in the maybe category.

Wesley. He is an elf and he is rude. Probably not a contender.

Kai! I found this guy washed up on the beach. He has no memories. Definitely a contender. Just look at him. Hot snake man.

Vivi! I realised partway through making this post that I actually haven’t met this character yet. Oh well! I like her design, so I’ll leave her as a maybe.

Current tally:

Definite contenders: Kai, Xyla, Donovan, Darius, Jun, Claude, Catherine, Nathaniel

Maybe: Vivi, Wesley, Vaan, Iris, Wornhardt, Lucia

No: Kitty, Anne, Liam, Lynn

Stay tuned as I try to narrow this down further!

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 13

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ This chapter contains sexual content. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

Morgan stood outside the heavy doors of Homelander’s penthouse, her pulse steady but her mind still racing with the events of the day. The image of Charlie’s car—crumpled like a soda can—lingered in her thoughts, mingled with the satisfaction of knowing it could have been much worse. She exhaled, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Of all the things Homelander could’ve done to prove a point, he’d picked Charlie’s precious car. 

It was... poetic.

There was a part of her that wondered if she should have been worried he knew which car was Charlie’s in the first place, but it didn’t matter now. It was a clear message that he wasn’t to reach out to her anymore. There were a few upsides to having caught Homelander’s attention in the way she had.

Adjusting her skirt, she let out a soft sigh of relief. Casual clothes were a blessed relief from the armor she’d been stuck in all day. It also made the nature of her visit feel a lot less like she had to keep up appearances. Right then, she didn’t have to pretend to be Psryen. She was just Morgan.

Steeling herself a little, she knocked once, twice, then let herself in. It wasn’t much different from the times he had let himself into her apartment.

Homelander stood by the far window, his back to her, as if he already knew she’d come. It was likely he’d heard her approach either way. His posture was relaxed, but Morgan could sense the tension beneath the surface. The air inside was thick with quiet, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the glass walls.

“I heard the craziest story today,” she started, her voice light, feigning ignorance. “One of the finance managers found his car absolutely totaled down in the parking garage. Nobody knows how it happened, but goddamn… Can you imagine having to file that insurance claim?”

He still didn’t turn to face her, but the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. "Insurance claim?" he echoed, his voice low and smooth. "Does insurance usually cover damage that falls under ‘acts of god?’"

Morgan smirked, stepping further into the room. She could see his reflection in the glass now, the sharp angles of his face softened by the evening light. "An act of god, huh?" she chuckled, drawing closer. "I wouldn’t go that far. Though, I don’t think it falls under ‘acts of a disgruntled coworker’ either."

He finally turned, his eyes locking onto hers, a mix of amusement and something else, something darker, flickering in the blue depths. "Coworker?" he scoffed. "No, definitely not. He’s nowhere close to being in our league."

“You know… Reluctantly, I am forced to agree with you.” she said with a small, wry grin. “Charlie’s in a league of his own, somewhere between roaches and sewer rats.”

Homelander’s smirk deepened, but there was something behind his expression—something careful, and somewhat guarded. "There’s really no lost love between you and him, is there?”

"None whatsoever," she replied, her voice softening as she finally closed the space between them. She tilted her head, studying him in the fading light. "That’s why I can't even be mad about what you did." 

There was a pause, and then she added, more sincerely, "You could have done a lot worse. I know you wanted to."

Homelander’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her words. "You sound almost relieved."

"I am." Morgan didn’t flinch as she said it, her tone genuine. "And really, destroying his car was a great touch. I’m not sure a simple detailing fee is going to cover that sort of damage.”

Homelander gave her a look that surprised her a little. It was gentle, thoughtful and perhaps even the slightest bit empathetic. “Consider it my personal touch.” He took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking even further. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t paying attention.”

Morgan’s smile softened, and her heart stuttered slightly as his presence filled the space around her. She could feel the shift in the air—the playfulness giving way to something deeper, just waiting to be given a voice. The way he looked at her now, there was no trace of the smirk, only the sincerity of his gaze, searching her face as if waiting for her to draw a line or step away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she exhaled softly, her shoulders relaxing as she let herself lean into the quiet between them. “I noticed,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re always paying attention.” There was no teasing in her tone now, just the faintest trace of gratitude—understanding, even.

He didn’t respond immediately, but the shift in his expression was subtle. The trepidation in his eyes softened, just for a moment, and he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her arm. It was a small, tentative gesture—an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile connection they shared.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

“I can tell you’re thinking about it,” she whispered, her voice a little rougher, and a little more daring than usual. There was a spark of recklessness in her tone. Something unrestrained. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

For a second, he froze. A look of surprise flickered across his face, but beneath it, something deeper—hesitation. He had pushed for this, hoped for this, but now that it was happening, fear crept in. The last time he had let someone get close, it ended in betrayal, in hurt. But with Morgan, there was conviction, a sense that she wouldn’t break him the same way. Maybe that frightened him even more.

His hands twitched at his sides. He could feel the pull toward her, a part of him almost desperate for it. But what if this went wrong? What if she let him down too?

Morgan wasn’t waiting, though. She was tired of waiting. Tired of trying to control every second of her life. Control had always been her safety net, her way of coping, but right now, it was the last thing she wanted. Not after the day she’d had. Her emotions had been on a tightrope, and the way Homelander had dealt with Charlie lit something inside her.

And right now, she wanted to act on it.

“Unless you’re afraid,” she added, her voice challenging now, teasing, pushing him closer to the edge.

That did it. Slowly, his expression shifted. A touch of fear still lingered, but it was quickly snuffed out by something else. A need. A need for someone to stay, to not turn away from him when he was vulnerable. She wasn’t running, wasn’t recoiling, and that… that was new.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, his voice low, daring her to prove him wrong.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Her words were bold, reckless, and it only fed the wildfire of emotions building between them. She wasn’t thinking, wasn’t overanalyzing, and that excited her. For once, she was letting herself be there, in that moment, without weighing every consequence.

With a quick, sharp breath, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started tentative but quickly grew bolder. He was testing how much of himself he could give before she pulled away. But she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she leaned in harder, her arms sliding up and around his neck to pull him closer. She wasn’t interested in half-measures. There was no hesitation in her touch, no holding back. She wanted to feel this, needed to, after everything. And she knew he needed it too.

His hands, which had hovered with uncertainty, finally settled on her waist, gripping her as if to ground himself. At least, that’s where they stayed for a brief moment. A soft moan rose from the depths of her chest, and was effectively smothered against his lips, prompting a similar sound from him in return.

Wandering over her hip and downward, one of his hands strayed to the hem of her skirt to hike it just a little higher. There was a slight moment of hesitation from him, but their kiss didn’t break for even a second. The way Morgan leaned into him with such ferocity was encouragement enough.

Homelander’s fingertips brushed against her innermost thigh, and she inhaled sharply, anticipation coursing through her like liquid fire. His touch was surprisingly delicate as he teased her over the thin fabric of her underwear. An aching desire built stronger and stronger, pulling taut in her abdomen. It only got worse as his fingers pulled away.

For just a moment, they broke apart, both of them breathless. He searched her face, looking for signs that maybe this wasn’t real. Part of him wondered if maybe she was about to pull away and tell him it was a mistake. But her eyes stayed on his, her chest rising and falling in time with his.

“I’m not running,” she said, her voice soft and resolute.

His thumb traced the edge of her bottom lip, kiss-bruised and full. The significance of what was about to transpire had just begun to settle in. “Good,” he murmured, the word carrying the kind of relief he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.

They both dove in for another kiss, and this one was more frantic and full of need than the last. It was impossible for either one of them to settle in one spot for long as they both pawed impetuously and the other’s clothes. The more difficulty Morgan had figuring out how to get his suit off, the more she was glad that she had dressed down for the occasion.

Somewhere along the way, they had stumbled into his bedroom, both of them halfway undressed in some manner. There was a brief moment she found herself gawking up at the massive mirror on his ceiling, but her shock (and slight amusement) was cut short. The very moment she was laid out on the edge of his bed, all of her on display for him to see, he buried himself inside her in a single, smooth stroke. 

“Oh god…” she choked out, her voice a barely restrained whisper.

His only response was a slight smirk as he drew back, just enough to leave her wanting for a split second, then he pushed in again. He moved slowly– at first. Every soft breath, every little mewl he wrested from her drove him to rock into her just a little faster. Before long, she was clutching at his cape, keening desperately as his hips rutted and bucked against hers in a quick and steady rhythm.

Morgan was finally able to lose herself in the throes of it all. Her body moved instinctually with his, following his lead at some points, and at other points she was the one steering him toward the edge of ecstasy. Somewhere along the line, she had lost track of all sense of who she was, who he was, and everything that had brought them over the precipice.

That evening, nothing really mattered outside of that room. 

The soft rustle of the sheets and the faint rhythm of their breathing filled the space after some time. Their earlier exertions dissolved into a quiet intimacy. Morgan lay comfortably against his chest, her body relaxed, yet her mind still processing everything that had led them there. Her fingers traced absent patterns against his skin as she turned her head slightly to glance at him.

“So,” she began, her tone softer, more thoughtful, “I have to admit, I didn’t exactly picture my day ending like this.”

Homelander’s gaze shifted toward her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You didn’t?” he asked, though there was a trace of amusement in his voice. “Not even a little?”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t. But I’m not complaining.”

The silence between them was comfortable now, and she felt a strange, unexpected ease settle over her. She wasn’t entirely sure what things between them were—whether they were fleeting or something more—but for that moment, they were enough.

The quiet between them lingered a while longer, but eventually, there was a shift—one that Morgan could feel even before Homelander spoke. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his tone soft but probing. “About you... and Charlie.”

Morgan’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. She knew this conversation was bound to surface eventually, though she wasn’t sure she was ready for where it might lead.

He turned his head toward her, his gaze unwavering. “You almost had a family with him.”

The statement hung between them, weightier than the silence that followed. Morgan’s breath caught for a second, but she met his gaze, the vulnerability in it taking her aback slightly.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “We did. That was such a long time ago though.”

For a moment, Homelander said nothing, but there was an intensity in the way he looked at her, as if trying to piece together parts of a puzzle. Some part of Morgan was afraid to let her mind linger in his for much longer. There were certain avenues he contemplated exploring, and some of them she wasn’t sure she wanted to go down. At the same time, she wanted to have answers at the ready.

“I seem to remember you saying you really wanted the baby you lost.” he said, his tone uncertain as he began to tread into uncharted waters. “What stopped you from trying again? I mean, obviously Charlie was a tool and starting a family with him was an awful idea, but… In all that time, you never wanted to try with anyone else?”

Morgan’s gaze flickered, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. She really didn’t want him to go there—not like this, not now. But there it was, laid bare between them. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight as she searched for the right words.

“It wasn’t that simple,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Losing the baby... it broke something in me. Something I didn’t know how to fix. After that, I wasn’t sure I could put myself through it again.” Her eyes dropped, focusing on the pattern of the covers instead of his piercing gaze. 

She hesitated, feeling his gaze still fixed on her before continuing, “Trying again—it never felt like an option. Not with anyone.”

Homelander stayed quiet for a moment. She could sense his curiosity deepening, though, pushing him to understand her in a way no one else had. His voice was softer when he finally spoke. “And now?”

The question hit her harder than she anticipated. Something about hearing that curiosity voiced out loud hit her like a punch to the gut. Morgan glanced up at him, meeting his gaze again.

“It’s not in the cards for me.” she said, her voice a little more pointed than she intended it to be. “I’m well into my thirties, I’ve got one hell of a career I’ve just settled into and…”

There was no room for something as pure as that in her current situation. 

Especially not with him. 

“I’m not sure I was meant to anyway,” she continued. “I thought I was safe at sixteen weeks. Running the risk of not carrying to term again is higher for me now, and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

His expression was thoughtful, and a flicker of disappointment flashed through his mind. That wasn’t the only thing, however. There was the briefest thought of a boy that crossed his mind, but it wasn’t the one she had seen before. The boy in his memories she was used to seeing was him, but this one… He had a son.

It was immediately apparent that he didn’t want her to know about him. Not quite yet anyway. So, she stifled any sort of reaction she might have had and filed that bit of information away for later. 

“Sorry, these probably aren’t the sort of questions you want to be answering right now.” he muttered, shifting slightly beneath her. 

“Hey, it’s okay, really.” she reassured him gently, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze without having to crane her neck. “You’d be surprised how quickly this sort of thing jumps into most people’s minds. It’s one of those weird, instinctual things that I think is instilled into most of us.”

Homelander's lips twitched, almost as if he were about to say something more, but he held back. His eyes lingered on her, a quiet understanding passing between them, before he finally let out a soft chuckle. “This is nice,” he admitted, shifting slightly, though his gaze never left hers. “Talking like this.”

She smiled softly, sensing a shift from the conversation to something lighter. “Yeah, it’s nice not to be at each other’s throats all the time.” she teased gently, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead.

His eyes glinted with something familiar—a spark of amusement, perhaps even relief—and he tilted his head, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture. “I don’t know, you seemed to like having my teeth at your throat earlier.” he quipped, his voice low and playful. 

For a moment, the intensity between them eased, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. Morgan felt the corners of her lips tug upwards as the warmth of the quiet moment settled over them.

“Hey, you just count your lucky stars that my armor covers my neck.” she scolded playfully. “Otherwise we’d have to explain this whole thing to HR, I’m sure.”

That was enough to get a soft laugh out of him. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or awkward—just quiet, the kind that spoke of understanding and unspoken agreements. Morgan let herself relax into it. Not even the unspoken question at the tip of his tongue concerned her. She already knew how she wanted to answer.

“I’d like to stay.” she murmured softly, laying back down against his chest again. “People are definitely going to talk tomorrow, but right now, I really couldn’t give a damn if I tried.”

Homelander’s arm instinctively wrapped around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet space between them. For the time being, neither of them had to worry about appearances, expectations, or the outside world pressing in.

“Let ‘em talk,” he murmured, his voice low and content. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck either.”

Morgan smiled against his chest, feeling the all the strain of the day slowly slipping away. For now, she could just exist in the stillness, without the pressure of their respective roles hanging over them. They were just two people, caught in a moment of peace before the world outside inevitably pulled them back in.

Tomorrow would come soon enough—but that night, it was just them.

Song: Samson by Regina Spektor “You are my sweetest downfall, I loved you first.” Author’s notes: Lucky number 13! They finally did the deeeeeeed! I really don’t have too much to say about this chapter, other than I was kicking my feet and giggling the whole time I was writing it. It’s a touch short, but I didn’t want the whole focus of the chapter to be on the act itself. I mostly wanted to capture the mood and everything surrounding it.  It’s such a pivotal point for them, and I could imagine it all being such a blur of so many emotions, sensations and just a hell of a thing for either of them to fully conceptualize.  Don’t worry, there will be more moments like this, but I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know what you thought!

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