#the birds are TOO VALUABLE she does not want to share

[abirddogmoment]

Bird dog activities

[shirefantasies]

Hi there! I saw your LotR imagine about an animal companion and thought it was adorable!! Could you do one but with a cat instead? It could either be a normal sized cat or a big one, your choice! I just love cats! Hope you have a good day today!

Heck yeah! I’m more of a cat person too so this resonates with me far more than the other 😆 dude, I'm so sorry this took so long but I hope you like it Liv 🖤

The Fellowship With Your Feline Companion

Aragorn

✧ It does not escape you the way he raises his eyebrows upon first seeing the cat perched upon your shoulder.

✧ But you misunderstand him- Aragorn is well used to forming deep bonds with animals, his just happen to be with horses and all he’s thinking is what a surprise it is you got the cat to stay.

✧ Never will you forget his expression of polite, stoic surprise the first time your cat clambers onto him and settles there and the subsequent smile you share.

✧ You often catch him whispering in Elvish to your cat. Even if you cannot understand the words, they seem to have a calming effect.

✧ “All lives are valuable. Even the smallest ones.”

Legolas

✧ “And who is this?” Legolas asks upon meeting you, dark eyes glinting with mirth as they fix upon your cat, who currently perches upon your shoulder.

✧ Reticent as your companion tends to remain, the kind hands of the elven prince bring forth purrs and soft eyes of peace easily.

✧ Legolas takes to borrowing your companion for trips up the trees. Sometimes they return with a casualty, your cat having claimed a bird as prey on the climbing and scouting trip.

✧ Quite impressed is the woodland prince with the way you developed an archery method with a cat upon your shoulder. Perhaps he may even have to try it!

✧ Always refers to the cat as ‘your guardian’ as if you are not the one providing feed and care! You frequently tease each other about who owns who in the relationship.

Boromir

✧ "And the cat is going with you?" You did not appreciate his teasing skepticism. "Yes," you answered, tone hard, "Take it or leave it. You want me on this journey, you get him."

✧ He tries. Boromir tries to break through your layers of frost, but no success. At least not until the night your feline companion clambers off of the log by your side and onto his lap, accepting the shred of meat he is offered. The man sighs as your beloved cat tears in. "He is so small. So innocent in all of this. I simply do not want to see him hurt. You understand that, right?"

✧ After that, you notice Boromir’s efforts. The nest he built your companion to sleep in and the way he stands right at its side every night watch.

✧ Boromir is absolutely the type to pout when he calls or beckons to him and your cat completely ignores him, prompting you to burst out laughing every time.

✧ Sometimes he is a bit rough when he makes to pet or scratch your cat, prompting you to take and guide his hand in gently stroking him.

Gimli

✧ "Does he bite?" The dwarf asked, cautiously extending a hand. "Not unless I tell her to," you subtly corrected.

✧ It becomes a bit of a joke between you and Gimli- any time he gives you some sort of hassle, you jokingly threaten to sic your beast upon him even if she’s just sitting there purring in your lap.

✧ Picks pieces of meat from fireside suppers, selecting them as carefully as a royal beefeater for his queen and smiling with great pleasure when they are enjoyed.

✧ Insists that beside you, he is your cat’s favorite. Bickers with Legolas for this position more often than you’d have expected.

✧ Gimli has a field day when he, upon taking off his helmet, discovers your cat wedged inside curled up tightly. “Well, I suppose I go now into battle with no helmet. If I’m struck atop the head, remember me, cat!” He says this all as if he is not grinning ear to ear.

Frodo

✧ “You remind me of Strider,” he tells you early in your journey together, “One with nature as you are. Though I must say you carry a much fairer presence.”

✧ Your cat has never shown such maternal instinct as when Frodo joins her life. The weight of the ring suffocates him, but the touch of fur is just as grounding, her weight upon his lap a welcome one that brings reality back before his eyes.

✧ She even saves his life at one point, leaping onto him right before the ring could slide onto his finger.

✧ You find yourself gravitating toward Frodo’s side more and more, smiling at the way his fingers instinctually tangle in the soft fur upon your shoulder.

✧ Frodo is the only one your cat allows to pick up and hold her except for you.

Sam

✧ “Are you a wizard like Gandalf?” Pure amusement and endearment overtook your neutral expression, shattering it in favor of a smile at the hobbit, who himself looked a combination of awed and frightened. “It’s because of the black cat, isn’t it?”

✧ Insistent as you are that your cat is not some fabled familiar or enchantment, Samwise still addresses your second half with nothing short of reverence. Perhaps even a title.

✧ Absolutely delighted to make tiny plates of whatever you guys eat or just for giblets to give the newest quest member.

✧ Knowing as much as he does about plants, Sam is able to identify, harvest, and dry some catnip to put in a little tear of fabric. Suffice it to say he really has a friend after that!

✧ “You know,” Sam remarks one night by the fire as you lay side by side, his hand gently stroking your feline companion’s fur, “It’s nice. Having a comfort like this. Almost like you’ve brought a piece of home. Then again, you are home to each other, aren’t you?” “We are indeed,” you agree with a soft smile.

Merry

✧ Having a hobbit pull a little sword on you was certainly not on your day's itinerary. "Well, you are just full of surprises, aren't you?" You quipped. "I could say the same to you," the golden-haired hobbit replied, nodding his curly head toward the cat winding between your booted feet.

✧ Once you are recognized as friend rather than foe, Merry wants to know hear the story behind your becoming a duo, sitting next to you at the fire and listening intently, eyes remaining fixed upon yours.

✧ “So you were nothing more than a baby?” Merry leans on his folded arms, addressing your cat as if expecting an answer. “Just a stray? And look at you now! Big and strong. You had someone to take good care of you.”

✧ “Forgive me for asking this,” the hobbit inquires one day with a tug upon your cloak, “But how do you fight? With, you know…” “I’m an archer,” you chuckle, “We stay as far away as we can help and keep to our very specific shoulders. It can be a little clumsy sometimes, but I do alright. Haven’t died yet.”

✧ Rustling at your side is not an uncommon thing for you to wake to- rustling accompanied, of course, by the sight of Merry scooting his bedroll closer across the dirt until his hand can reach your beloved pet.

Pippin

✧ "Whoa!" The sudden emergence of your cat's head from beneath the folds of your cloak startles the hobbit, who stumbles back a bit. "You know you've got a-" "Cat on my shoulder? As a matter of fact, I do," you answer with a grin.

✧ Happily takes over keeping your companion entertained, trying different methods of play like dragging sticks and dangling leaves to jump for.

✧ One day you catch Pippin fixing you with an odd sort of stare, tilting your head as you stroke your cat’s. Is he…jealous? Needlessly to say, later that night you find yourself running your fingers through curly hobbit hair instead.

✧ “Can I sleep with you? I- I mean the cat, by the-” “Of course you can, Pippin,” you just giggle.

✧ Tries his best to quit smoking around his little friend, ducking away and even sometimes flying up from his seat when he realizes his pipe’s curling product may be drifting the cat’s way.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @noodlesduck | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[perpetualexistence]

if noah was actually written as the schemer, how do you think it would have gone exactly? love your writings btw

Thank you so much! And oh, anon. Anon you've unlocked character analysis mode. I hope you're ready for a bunch of paragraphs, because that's what you're getting.

First of all, as much as I love writing a Noah who can scheme on par with Alejandro or Heather, he's a different kind of schemer than them. Noah’s a lazy character at heart, particularly season 1 Noah. This is true whether or not you believe the theory that he sabotaged himself to get out of the game early. He’s a child who was born naturally smart. He hacked his way into moderating a forum at age 5 because he truly believed he could do a better job at it. He's going to believe in working smarter rather than harder.

Thus, his scheming reflects this. If Heather is a snake, and Alejandro is an eel, then Noah is a vulture. (Specifically a white-rumped vulture since its habitat as India. This isn't actually important to the narrative. But it's important to me to have animals that share the same roots as the characters they represent.) The bird has a reputation for being evil, but isn’t really. Noah’s more opportunistic than anything. He’s the type to let other people do all the hard work before swooping in for the kill.

His plan going into Island is to latch onto the strongest competitor and ride their coat tails. He'll stay in the middle of the pack for as long as possible. Once that's no longer an option, he'll commit to winning challenges to gain immunity.

Cue Heather. He can immediately recognize that she's one to take charge and sabotage. Which is perfect for him. He presents himself as an option for being her spy for the boys once he realizes she's looking for alliances (because I do rather like this direction that canon could have taken if they had committed to him being the schemer). He lets Heather take the lead, though does offer valuable suggestions based on his observations on the other contestants.

He also commits to getting close with Lindsay. He needs her to be more loyal to him than she is to Heather. He does this by indulging in her attempts to have them all be best alliance buddies. Babes, as she calls them. Noah tries arguing that there shouldn't be an 'e' in there, and also he's not a 'babe'. Heather and her, sure. But definitely not him. Lindsay refuses to listen to this logic because he's a part of the alliance, so he's a babe, and they can just give him a makeover if he's hung up on it!

Noah and Lindsay do end up becoming legitimate friends. The potential friendship of bimbo with a heart of gold and cold little cynic is just too much for me not to have them be friends. Schemer Noah still has a heart. And if he can have a friend and a shot at the prize money, then he'll take both. Besides, it's not like he's doing her any harm in trying to keep her completely from Heather's clutches.

All the while, he's making plans for eventually betraying Heather. He establishes early on that he has a 'journal' that's clearly a diary. It doesn't have anything in it, but no one else knows that. After a few episodes, he'll complain about it going missing. Not too long after, he'll be completely quiet about the matter.

See, Noah's patient. Once he's ready to drop Heather, he'll absolutely reveal the alliance. And he'll reveal that the only reason he was a part of it was because Heather stole his journal and threatened to read it to everyone just like she'd done to Gwen. It would immediately gain him sympathy points and paint a huge target on Heather's back that he'd coast by stress-free. And who are they going to believe? The girl who's been tormenting everyone from the beginning? Or the guy who hasn't been doing much?

Part of me wants to say he'd reveal this grand plan during/after Lindsay's elimination when it is suddenly very clear the alliance is over. Either way, his plan has worked, and now he can just coast on his sympathy until he's in the final three.

He still doesn't win the season. This is due to a combination of factors, centered around one thing: his overconfidence in his intelligence. He can make a plan, and he can execute it flawlessly. But he doesn't do so well at improvising, or thinking of what comes after.

He assumed that tossing Heather aside would see her focus her effort on winning and trying not to get eliminated. He underestimated how vindictive she would be, to the point of risking her own elimination to make sure Noah doesn't win, either. He also neglected to play the social game thanks to spending most of his time spying. Sure, he has their sympathy for being used by Heather. But most of them barely know him, and they'd rather protects their own friends than go out of their way to not eliminate Noah.

I don't know when exactly he'd be eliminated. It could be either before or after Heather, though I don't see him making it to the final three. I think final three is the farthest I'd be willing to put him, because there's no way he's not quitting on the dares before Owen or Gwen.

At the playa de losers, he has a bit of an existential crisis because this is the first time his intelligence hasn't just given something to him. Lindsay helps him through it in her own Lindsay way by serving as a reminder that she isn't smart, but she's still kicking! Plus, she was still able to tell Heather off, to which he would admit he was fairly impressed with the insults she threw down. He had no idea she had it in her.

He still manages to make friends with Izzy and Eva. This mainly happens during the special when all of a sudden there's a million on the line. He throws his lot in with two of the physically strongest competitors (who don't currently hate his guts), and accidentally makes more friends along the way. (I can never abandon Team E-scope).

When World Tour hits, he knows he has to force himself to be a more active participant. He knows he can't win the physical game, so he'll just have to, ugh, put effort into the social game. He still needs someone else to latch onto to help him with that, so he settles for Owen. He tells Owen that he's trying to be more 'friendly', and Owen's more than happy to take him under his wing! He's never really done that before! It'll be fun for both of them, he promises! (Nowen to some extent is also a constant in any of my ideas).

Meanwhile he also has to keep tabs on Alejandro. He sees the guy going after Team Victory one by one, but doesn't say anything because it's not his problem. ...Until he remembers that Lindsay is in Team Victory. So now he's got to scheme a way to get Alejandro to steer his attention away from Lindsay while also making sure Alejandro doesn't figure out who he's trying to protect.

It'll probably eventually lead to him and Heather teaming up against Alejandro as an 'enemy of my enemy' pact. Except Alejandro sees this and begins to tempt Noah to join his side as well. Everyone in the trio knows that the others are trying to take advantage of them. It's very much a Mexican standoff.

Aaaaand that's all I've got! I know Season 3 wasn't as detailed as Season 1 was, but I'm getting tired as I'm writing this reply due to the time I'm writing it. Also, the ideas have straight up run out for now, so time will tell what happens.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, anon!

[zippystorm]

Roguefort lore(?)

A/N: None of this is canon. This is what I think happened to Roguefort Cookie, using canon events and my own imagination. For anyone who wants more accurate information of them, I suggest them to check out this document by @kayisconfused.

I always find Roguefort Cookie very interesting. Little is known about them and their past. What is their backstory? Do they exist in Kingdom? If so, how do they fit into the game's lore? After some researching and theorising, I present to you what I think could possibly be the story of our beloved Roguefort Cookie.

We know that their family and, to an extent, the thief themself are in Kingdom. The concept art for a character, Colby Jack Cheese Cookie, shows a cookie from Golden Cheese Kingdom. It is known that this cookie used to work at the Blue Cheese Manor and may even be Roguefort's assistant, before being abandoned by the family. Although Colby Jack Cheese Cookie is never added to the game, this information provides us with insight into Roguefort Cookie's past.

1. Colby Jack Cheese Cookie:

Does this mean their family stems from the Golden Cheese Kingdom as well? It seems to me that Roguefort Cookie shares some similarities with the cookies there. Mozzarella Cookie and Roguefort Cookie both have hair colour and eye colour that are almost identical. Even their smiles look similar! Apart from physical traits, they have alike personalities in my humble opinion. They both get bored easily and seek excitement; they are both very cunning and clever. This makes me wonder, are these two family?

2. Roguefort Cookie + Mozzarella Cookie:

Furthermore, at the end of Roguefort's skill, they glide/fly a short distance. Meanwhile, Golden Cheese Cookie has the ability to levitate. If they are related, perhaps the thief has inherited this power from her. Besides, she is known for being greedy, considering that she loves to collect treasures and anything valuable to her. Does this behaviour sound familiar? Roguefort Cookie steals from time to time too, acquiring jewels and priceless artefacts.

Lastly, a small and insignificant detail may also suggest that they indeed have a connection with the Golden Cheese Kingdom —— birds. This kingdom has a lot of birds. Cheesebirds inhabit this land and work for their ruler. Additionally, Golden Cheese Cookie somewhat looks like a bird. She has wings, along with her headdress reminds me of a beak. Who else reminds people of this animal? Having a costume that resembles a raven, Roguefort are associated with birds. Not to mention that they own a cane, whose handle is shaped like a bird's head. Is this a coincidence? I don't know... I'll let you decide.

3. Birds:

In the end, this is only a theory, which I will stand by until the developers prove it wrong. I actually have more theories about their childhood, family and the downfall of the Blue Cheese Manor. However, this post is already extremely long and I don't want to make it even longer. Should I do a part 2? If you want me to publish the second part, please tell me and I will do so. Feel free put your thoughts in the tags, because I want to know your opinions and ideas.

[cannebady]

not attached to any person, place, or thing

NSFW Stolitz content below the cut!

AO3

The real fuck of it all, Blitz thinks, staring at his own shitty, leaking ceiling, some bullshit from Voxflix the only thing lighting the room up aside from the red light floating in from the window, is that he hates this thing with Stolas as much as he loves it.

The way that being a royal's fucking plaything grates on the dwindling remains of his pride, the way that being a means-to-an-end (favors for favors, that's all it was, nothing else) makes him feel like he'll never really get to the point in his life where he's valuable for being him instead of being something.

It feels like being used for convenience; not that he isn't doing the same thing to Stolas for the fucking book, but it's been different for him for a while, though he'd rather eat a bowl of angelic bullets swimming in holy water than admit it outside of his own head. Thinking about that just kind of reminds him that he is a piece of shit by nature and prone to even piecier and shittier tendencies when his fucking dick, or heart, or fuck forbid both get involved, so who is he to think he deserves something fucking else?

It's easy to think of the parts he hates if he wants to stay angry. It's easier to be angry. Because the other piece? Oof, that's where the real bullshittery begins.

Because there's another list, folded up deep and kept close to this chest, of the things he cannot fucking lose about this (it could, maybe, be called "The Big Fuck Off List of What I Love About This" but that word scares the shit out of him and fuck you for thinking he has to say it anyway), and thinking about that list makes him feel both the dick and heart things previously discussed.

Because he loves Stolas's fucking laugh. It's nearly a giggle sometimes and when he isn't trying to be a princely Goetia, he can really get himself going, sometimes in response to Blitz's jokes (and ohh fucking shit does that do dick stuff to him), and Blitz has to act annoyed and imposed upon when all he feels is lighter than he ever has, maybe, in his entire worthless life.

On the same note, he loves those stupid bird noises. Stolas will squawk, chatter, hoot, trill, and another sounds like whistles and barks that he only knows because he took the time to fucking look it up. In the full moon cycles when he was less focused on toys and dominance, he'd sometimes experiment to see how to draw out certain noises over others. He's made a study of it and he keeps track of every single little noise he earns. There's one among them that stands out, and it's the little hoot Stolas lets out when he's asleep, completely passed out because Blitz fucked him so good he literally couldn't be conscious anymore. While certainly earned with dick stuff, this one's all heart for Blitz. He can't even deny it to himself anymore.

Because Stolas is the kind of dad he wishes he was. He tries for Loona, he does, and he thinks maybe she knows that. Sometimes. But Stolas gives Via everything and Blitz admires him for it.

One time when the full moon had left them both exhausted between rounds, he'd asked Stolas about his daughter to fill the space and Stolas had lit up like an actual light source. It was beautiful to watch and the first time that Blitz's heart skipped a beat when they weren't touching. Then, as if to fuck him up worse, he'd asked about Loona and never qualified "daughter" with "adopted" and, when Blitz admitted how afraid he was to have Loona help on missions, responded with, "It's a father's prerogative to worry, I think. Surely you'd agree?" like the fact that he was Loona's dad was just a fact, and like they had the shared experience of parenting, and it was balm to an open wound that Blitz did his best to ignore having. He promptly distracted Stolas with his entire tongue, and if he made sure to make it a whopper of an orgasm for the bird it's just because he got off on that too. Nothing else.

He's heard the term sexually compatible before, but he definitely didn't understand it until they started fucking. Sure he needs to keep a tight leash on Stolas's beak because he's liable to unleash a torrent of unhinged horny drivel straight out of worst porn ever made in Hell if given a half an opportunity, but other than that? Blitz has never had a partner that gave him a run for his money in terms of stamina, variety, or intensity until this and oh cursed fuck is it good.

To put it plainly, the sex fucks. He may grumble about the full moon shit, and it does hurt something special that it isn't real something else, but when he has a decent day, and his blood is running high, and he gets to end it by scaling the wall of the palace to give Stolas a proper dicking down, it makes something like lightning spark beneath his skin and he feels like he's on top of the fucking world. Those nights are the hardest because it's 100% in the dick column of the issue, but the longer it goes on and the more Stolas keeps cheese and hot sauce stocked for him, and the more he offers a bubble bath because "You must be exhausted Blitzy, you worked all day, let's relax a while", the more it's starting to become a heart issue too which is approximately, precisely, where Blitz will typically fuck things up irreparably.

Last night they'd been nearing the end of their fourth round, both covered in sweat and come and probably Stolas's fancy as fuck rich guy feather oil (it's called preening oil, which he knows because he learned how to do it because aftercare and fuck you, also it smells like smoke and whiskey and some kind of fucking flowers and it's just a good smell, okay? Ugh, fuck you). Stolas was soaking wet, the feathers around his hole sticky and dark and plastered to him, but blood hot and tighter than sin inside (fucking how) and Blitz was somehow still harder than he'd nearly ever been because of bird noises, and sex noises, and the feeling of Stolas repeatedly losing his entire fucking vocabulary just because of his hands, and tongue, and dick, and suddenly he knew he was going to come in seconds flat.

He pinned Stolas's arms as well as he could with just his hands, looked into his eyes, and demanded "Come, now", and he didn't really expect it to work outside of shitty porn, but Stolas's eyes, all fucking four of them, went wide and brilliant, and he whimpered, "Yes, Blitz" (not Blitzy, not my little imp, not plaything, but his fucking name) and promptly came squeezing Blitz's dick so hard he thought it might come off, but he couldn't even care about that because he was coming, being milked fucking dry, and only biting back, "Fuck, I love you, fucking perfect, stupid, pretty bird" by rearing back and digging his fangs into the inside of Stolas's thigh.

They've done much kinkier shit, this was nearly vanilla, but it fucked Blitz all the way up.

So now he's laying on his couch in true sad bastard fashion, horny and depressed (thank fuck Loona is out for the evening), hand around himself as he remembers the good, the bad, the ugly, the heart, and the dick of it all, hard, leaking, and desperate even for his own touch as he replays on loop making demon royalty come on fucking command. It only takes a few mental loops before he's, somewhat shamefully, spilling over his own fist in a poor imitation of the previous evening, the act barely scratching the surface of what he wants.

And maybe, the real fuck of it all, if he strips away his lists and performative complaining, his problems, both dick- and heart-related, is that the only thing he doesn't hate about this bullshit with Stolas is Stolas himself. And isn't that just the worst case fucking scenario?

[felondese]

rook stash

mulling over my rooks. i've got a couple of ideas to fit the classes/factions I'm most interested in and some guesses for their romances. I'll figure out most of the appearance details when we can play with the cc.

shit is out of control, y'all. i'm making one of every flavor, fuck it. i know who i am and how often i restart games. bg3 and my twenty-some save files are a recent memory. also nvm i did some mockups in a picrew thingie and now I'm fucking attached omg. and then i made kissy ones too. and another face one. fuck, yet another.

just stashing their deets here to fiddle with as i work out more particulars

hazel "rook" (like chess) ingellvar (mourn watch)

elf, city (crypt baby found by undead)

mage, death caller, staff

29, she/they nb, tall and thin, gothy/witchy makeup, curly blonde bob hairstyle

"British" rook voice, high pitch

blue diplomatic hawke with occasional spikes of red (how embarrassing)

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - Let's talk this out.

idle animation: standing completely straight, arms linked behind back, poised. after a while, gives in and runs fingers through their hair to corral any stray curls, rubs their lips together to assess if lipstick needs to be reapplied, but tries to be subtle about it. eventually gives in and conjures a small mirror to check their reflection. on selection from party screen: stands even straighter, chest out shoulders back, and does a small curtsy, nodding like 'of course'

trained as a necromancer from a young age, joining mourn watch much younger than most. was one of their own, after all, and belonged without having to work for or prove it

a bit vain, takes pride in their appearance, fan of jewelry/accessories in the nevarran fashion/or maybe just emmrich fashion idk

bookish but curious about the world outside the necropolis

diplomatic by training but has a temper and low tolerance for inaction/impatient with bureaucracy, otherwise generally upbeat/positive

great enjoyer of puzzles and games, a real chess nerd

talented calligrapher and hobby artist, mostly sketches tombs they find inspiring, portraits of the undead detailing their decomposition (thinks it's neat)

full of fun fungi facts and a bit of an expert on the poisonous ones

fascinated by darkspawn and wants to study the blight, likes to collect samples of defeated enemies for later analysis

romances bellara (bonds over shared love of reading books and doodling in notebooks), emmrich is their mentor (headcanon)

previous relationships: as a little kid had a crush on manfred; heartbroken that he could not return their feelings, they never pursued love again. still, loves romance novels

team nerdy mages (bellara & emmrich) / mage-mage-mage party / necrotic-necrotic-electricity damage

ghil'ean "rook" (like the bird) aldwir (veil jumper)

elf, dalish, ghilan'nain's vallaslin (of course)

rogue, veil ranger, bow

33, she/her, average height, muscular for an elf (big arms/shoulders mmmm)

"British" rook voice, medium pitch

blue hawke, so good, so compassionate and kind

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - Let's talk this out.

idle animation: a fidgeter, checks her nails, plays with a piece of hair, scratches an itch on the bottom of her foot, adjusts her arm wraps, picks lint off her cape. on selection from party screen, beams with enthusiasm and dances in place a bit

the veiliest of veil folk: veilguard, veil ranger, veil jumper

elfy elf, former scout for her clan where she learned to use a bow.

feels responsible for dread wolf/escaped gods situation

backstory: saved teammates during an expedition in arlathan forest, at the expense of a valuable artifact. loves her people <3

wary of humans/city elves at first, but warms up. fond of dwarves and intrigued by qunari. reluctant to leave the veil jumpers, strong attachments to them and to the dalish

rook = social, arboreal bird

can and will sleep anywhere, strong believer in the power of naps

nature lover, avid tree climber, explorer of elven ruins

rescues and rehabilitates wild animals (mother is the clan's halla-keeper, father is a hunter and trained hounds, family adopted many baby foxes/squirrels/crows and kept them as pets more or less)

previous relationships: a few but casual, including irelin, but who hasn't banged her? at least she has that in common with bellara ;)

romances davrin (bonds over assan, helps him with training) but may end up having a friends-to-lovers thing with harding (shared sense of duty, adventurous spirits, love of scout-stuff and archery stuff). good friends with bellara from veil jumpers work

team dalish elves saving the world yet again (davrin & bellara) / rogue-warrior-mage party (balance!) / electricity-fire-electricity damage

or team girl power (neve & harding) / mage-warrior-rogue / cold-electricity-physical

thea "rook" (like rookie) thorne (grey warden)

elf, city, anderfels native, orphaned young (tragic backstory with darkspawn-murdered family)

warrior, champion, sword & shield

22-23 (born just after fifth blight), she/her, small but strong/thick, kinda butch

"American" rook voice, low pitch

idle animation: working her jaw and glaring suspiciously, hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched. when selected on party screen, scowls at you and gives a reluctant shrug (being cool, not wanting to seem too eager to please)

red dialogue responses, aggressive/harsh, very black and white thinker, but mostly concerning the blight, everything else is less important, and having to point that out all the time irritates her

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - Beat down the entire room to get the information.

trained with local militia as a teenager, eager to run off and join the wardens, despite warnings that she was basically signing up for slow suicide, if a noble suicide, and she was so young.

my favorite trope: little elf with a big ass sword and a bigger attitude

backstory: disobeyed orders to seal a tunnel to the deep roads, saving a village from a large darkspawn incursion (lost her family that way and Not. Again.). stepped away while tempers cooled.

mouthy, prone to boasting and exaggeration, hard opinions about right and wrong, so very young and sure of everything

new to wardenship but committed to protecting people from the blight

hobbies: prefers to stay active, be outdoors, spending free time training or exercising, hiking, hunting

previous relationships: if by relationships you mean fuckbuddies, oh yea. thank the maker the grey wardens are resistant to illness including venereal diseases or the order would never have made it this long

romances neve (i'm sure they'll bond over something that isn't just neve's beautiful brown eyes), besties with davrin

team hard hitters (davrin & neve) / warrior-warrior-mage party / fire-fire-ice damage

ursula philomena "rook" (like 'to cheat') mercar (shadow dragons)

qunari, vashoth (foundling adopted into and raised by human military family)

rogue, saboteur, bow (and bombs!)

37, she/her, small for qunari, wiry and quick

"British" rook voice, medium pitch

idle animation: checking her weapons, turning side to side to keep an eye on her surroundings, looking over her shoulder. when selected on a party screen, does a little chin gesture like 'sup?

mercenary turned criminal turned vigilante, comfortable with shady/criminal activity

gambler and drinker, enjoys loud taverns and live music. likes card games and relies on her winnings to get by sometimes between jobs

reddish purple dialogue responses. sassy but also a touch aggressive if she needs to be

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - I'll do more than demand.

risk taker, down to earth, practical

has complicated feelings about tevinter (patriotic upbringing, a lot of resentment, happy to burn it down to end slavery)

adoptive family tried to raise a tanky warrior but got a skinny rogue. is as disappointed with them as they are with her. estranged

has had a few serious relationships, a few less serious flings, but she's been busy the last couple of years and out of the dating scene

romances taash (bonds over shared heritage, love of cash and things that go boom), tight with varric and harding

team not elves or humans (taash & harding) (we're workshopping the name) / rogue-warrior-rogue party / physical-fire-physical damage

or for reasons we'll explore in game together, strangely fond of lucanis, so takes him along in the party (with taash). team idk i got no cute theme for this yet / rogue-warrior-rogue / physical-fire-necrotic (more balanced)

feels like i'm neglecting lucanis and avoiding balanced parties. hmm might need a fifth rook concept. lords of fortune dwarf? something to ponder

beren "rook" (like the bird) laidir (lords of fortune)

dwarf, surfacer

rogue, duelist, daggers

30s, ftm he/him perhaps? show off those sexy top surgery scars

"American" rook voice, medium pitch

purplest of purple dialogue responses, can't take anything seriously, fond of taking the violent options for funsies e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - Beat down the entire bar to get information.

cool beard, eyeliner and facial piercings, tattoo'd face

idle animation: bounces in place and dances a little if left long enough, and also tends to hop every few steps out of boredom while walking (this is def for rp reasons and not because i use the space bar like a stimtoy while playing). does a little cheer when selected from a party screen

ran away from home as a teen and joined up with a ship's crew instead of continuing with the carta/family business

learned duelist specialization from isabela (headcanon)

can't make him wear a shirt

oh so many scars (including top surgery, which he shows off proudly). fights with daggers and is an accident waiting to happen, but scars add character and the ladies/lads love 'em!

collector of antiquities and shiny things, scavenger (rook = corvid, considered a pest or bad omen), but also random junk with no value. as eager to dumpster dive as to go treasure hunting in ruins

Trouble (note the capital T for emphasis). notoriously bad luck, always getting into wild and unlikely situations - blood-linked to the dread wolf is par for the course, really

mischievous, too curious for his own good (or others'), a snooper, a thief (in more of a 'oo shiny, i wants it' way with an afterthought of ''oo bet i can sell that too'), cursed to put his little grubby hands on everything

sees locks as a personal challenge, a taunt he cannot ignore, an affront to his nosiness, and it is his duty to unlock them. it's just askin' for it, really. he'll find a way in, one way or another, and is very smol and fits in many unlikely places. this dwarf can *climb*

has a genuinely good and caring heart, no real ill will towards anyone, even his enemies. hard to get on his bad side which is infuriating for some people, and he knows it. kill em with kindness and annoy them by being nice and helpful.

generous to a fault and yet somehow avoids being conned/taken advantage of, mostly by confusing would-be swindlers or annoying them into figuring it's not worth it

a "yes and" kind of guy, happy to go along with others' plans for interests' sake, does things purely to see what happens and because he's never done it before

will eat absolutely anything, good or bad, safe or suspiciously moldy. has a stomach of iron and food is fuel. anything with sugar is in danger, though, because he will gobble that shit up first

coffee? yes please. booze? yes! smoke? of course! illicit substances familiar or unfamiliar? why not!

absolutely zero instinct for self-preservation. danger? not a concern if there's adventure or loot on the line. not one to stay home picking lint off the sofa if there is (dangerous) fun to be had

personal hygiene is er, lacking. he is that peanuts' kid pigpen, just a cloud of dust around him at all times, a trail of debris in his wake. what's that in his hair? could be anything, really. fingernails? perpetually grubby. prefers to do his bathing in the sea

previous relationships: he's a treasure-hunting pirate and thus culturally a ho. for a dwarf, quite the ladies' and gents' man, charming in his strange way, hypnotizing his victims lovers with his adorable oddball 'rizz'. some say he's the blowjob king of llomerryn, mostly himself but other people too, for sure, have said that, or anyway you can't prove they didn't :P

romances davrin (for reasons including not limited to because his va is a sucky transphobe)? really who doesn't deserve a smol ginger dwarf pirate boyfriend? they'd all be so lucky

pre-veilguard team dwarf (varric & harding), buds with them

veilguard team spooky guys (emmrich & lucanis) / rogue-rogue-mage / necrotic-necrotic-necrotic, baby. specialists!

veilguard team ?? (davrin & neve) / fire-necrotic-ice

griselda "rook" (like a crow, of course) de riva (antivan crows)

city elf, mage, spellblade

zevran-coded appearance (long golden blonde hair, tanned complexion, tattoos?), delicate features, full lips, high cheekbones. big, catlike eyes

small stature, lithe and thin

American rook voice, higher pitch

she/her, early-to-mid twenties (just a baby), but an experienced killer

trained abroad in the in the [rivain? free marcher city?] crow enclave/franchise location, hence only knows lucanis by reputation. also why she has an American accent

only recently came to antiva when she earned her place as a full member of the crows. arrived in treviso just as the antaam did

idle animation: picking her nails with a dagger, swaying a bit in place, playing with a little wisp of magic and flipping it over her knuckles like a coin, fluttering her eyelashes at the camera and biting her lip/practicing her sexy pout. on party selection: a sly smirk and nod, unsheathing her dagger and letting magic crackle in her hand for effect (show-off)

dialogue responses vary depending on who she's talking to. can be very sweet/diplomatic even if it's hollow, more aggressive with anyone she doesn't like and isn't trying to fool

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - I'll do more than demand.

demeanor is charming and playful, flirtatious. can appear innocent and childlike, surprisingly nonthreatening, to lure in her victims. all completely bullshit hiding cold brutality

romances lucanis (crow shit)

team ??? (lucanis & davrin) / mage-rogue-warrior / electricity-necrotic-fire

tobias "rook" (like a castle) ingellvar (mourn watch)

city elf, warrior, reaper

small and wiry but stronger than he looks

british rook voice, medium pitch

he/him, late twenties

idle animation: shifting from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable

red/harsh dialogue responses mostly, some blue/diplomatic, never purple (he does not joke)

e.g., "You think you can come into my bar and make demands?" - I'll do more than demad.

the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one, goth ed.

trained as a guardian of the necropolis, raised by mourn watch after being found in crypt as baby

does not startle easily, cannot sneak up on him

very dry sense of humor, revealed sparingly

rather cynical, pessimistic, distrustful of the living

romances emmrich (mourn watch love story)

team spooky (emmrich & lucanis) / warrior-mage-rogue / necrotic-necrotic-necrotic

bonus rook (lords of fortune qunari slayer)

i dont know who he is yet exactly, but he's a looker

theoretical team-ups:

bellara & emmrich + hazel (team nerdy mages) neve & harding + ghil'ean (team starter pack) bellara & davrin + ghil'ean (team dalish elves saving the world) neve & davrin + thea (team hard hitters) taash & davrin + thea (team gymbros) taash & harding + ursula (team lineage minorities) emmrich & davrin + beren (team spooky shield) taash & davrin + beren (team burning blade) taash & lucanis + griselda (team burning crows) lucanis & emmrich + griselda (team spooky crows) lucanis & emmrich + tobias (team spooky)

bellara || emmrich ||| davrin ||||| harding || neve || taash |||| lucanis ||

okay look i just want to bring davrin everywhere >.>

[countlessrealities]

Mabel's smile grows brighter when Snufkin accepts the drink she has brought him. Hopefully he likes it, because she would feel bad if he had felt compelled to drink it only because she has grabbed him a glass. She might have approached him despite the fact that he had obviously chosen to keep his distances, but she doesn't want to be pushy or to make him uncomfortable.

That isn't the only thought occupying her mind, though. Now that she's close enough, closer than she has ever been before, she can see the man's inhuman traits. Paws and fangs and the slightly off shape of his body. Had they been elsewhere, she would have been caught off guard, but this is Gravity Falls. "Anomaly" is another word for "normalcy" out there. Especially now that the Society of the Blind Eye is no longer around wiping people's memories of the paranormal.

"Yeah, I noticed that," she admits with a chuckle. Then she shrugs. "My brother isn't a people person either, but he can mingle...He just needs a little push. I thought that it could be your case too, so I came to offer you one. But you don't have to take it! If you prefer staying here and watching, that's good too!"

The last two sentences are spoken in a bit of a hurry, betraying the fact that she is worrying that she might be pressuring him. A year ago she wouldn't have been as perceptive towards people's comfort, but the events of Weirdmaggeddon had taught her a few valuable lessons. If they had been worth the trauma or not, she can't say, but she still values them all.

"What are you looking for?" She can't stop herself from asking, curiosity winning over caution. She turns her eyes back on the crowd too, as if trying to picture how it has to look from his eyes. "Just regular people watching or...?"

Her voice trails off as her gaze lands on Snufkin once again, this time carrying an inquisitive note. She can understand what he means. Whenever she finds herself in a new place, the first thing she does is having a good look around to get an idea of what she's dealing with. However, her watching period is definitely much shorter than his seems to be.

"So you travel when? In fall or winter? Like migratory birds?" It's a funny comparison to make. But who knows. Maybe whatever species the man belongs to has specific migrations periods. "Dip-sauce and I usually travel in summer instead! I guess that it's mostly because we don't have school, and our parents want to go on holiday on their own. Now we're old enough to travel by ourselves and our Grunkles are happy to have us around, sooo...here we are! Summer in Gravity Falls."

Was she rambling a little too much? Not for her standards, but maybe it's too much for someone like Snufkin.

"Oh, no worries! There's still plenty. I couldn't put them down together with the rest of the food because Grunkle Stan wanted people to pay for them and it took me a while to get him to understand that it would kill the purpose of making food to share freely with the rest of the town."

She lets out a heavy sigh, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. Stan's obsession with money has gotten a little better now that he has Ford back, but old habits die hard.

"I can go and fetch you a plate, if you still aren't ready to join the others!"

Snufkin likes to just observe parties.  Celebrations like this were big in Moominvalley, and the residents found something to celebrate almost every month or at least every other.  Snufkin would attend out of politeness and because his friends were there.  He even let Moominmamma put him in traditional festival clothing at one point, not wanting to reject the embroidered vest and skirt she had fashioned for him.  But he was never one to dance or play much with the others, content to sit on the fence and watch like he is now.  Occasionally, he will play his harmonica, and at last year’s harvest party, he gave Moomin and Snorkmaiden a dance each, but that’s about it.

And those were his friends, never mind a town full of people he doesn’t know very well.

He saw Mabel approaching long before she reached him because he has a pretty good view of the grounds, and he did not make an effort to run away, though he let the brim of his hat fall over his eyes so that she would not catch him staring.  Now he looks at her properly, chestnut eyes flicking down to the offered cup and then back up at her face.  What good reason does he have to not take it?

He reaches out with his paw, takes the punch from her, and says, “Thank you.”  Then, he looks back out at the crowd.  “I’m not much of a mingler, either, as I’m sure you’ve probably noticed.”  He smiles at the observation, little fangs sticking out from his upper lip.  “I usually like to watch for a while before I get too involved in anything.”

When she mentions helping to make the pies herself, though, he feels a little bit guilty, like he ought to go and sample one, especially since it reminds him of Moominvalley and Moominmamma’s pies.  She made pies out of everything—vegetable pies, meat pies, fruit pies, chocolate pies, and so on.

He brings the sugary punch to his lips and hums around the rim of the plastic cup.  “I am,” he answers.  “I don’t usually travel in summer, so the disruption has put me a little out of sorts.”  He tries to stay in Moominvalley until winter, but sometimes, the urge to leave will flare up in him insatiably, and he cannot settle until he heeds the call.  So, he packed up everything in the middle of the night and headed out while everyone was asleep so that Moomin couldn’t protest that it wasn’t time for Snufkin to leave yet.

“I’m Snufkin.  It’s a pleasure.”  As much as he appreciates his solitude, he can’t say that this first proper introduction with her has been terrible, barring her endeavors to get him to mingle with others.  “I might have to try one of the pies you made,” he says, finally pushing himself off the wall.  “I’m sure they’ll be all gone soon enough if I don’t jump on them now.”

[annikasafternoonread]

Kel thing here- No one talks about that little moment during the Progress when one of Kel's oldest sparrow friends dies and she brings the body to Daine. Just, brings her friend to Daine even through there's obviously nothing to be done, and the Wildmage cries too. They mourn for the sparrow together. This tiny little bird.

No one talks about how Kel is probably one of the very few people Daine has ever met who feels the way she does about the People.

Others are sad about animals dying, but it doesn't hit them the same way. When we first meet Kel she risks her life fighting a monster and climbing a cliff to save a bag of kittens. In the ruins of Haven she morns the sacrifice of the sparrow who wedged itself into the eyesocket of a Killing Device so one of it's human friends could sneak up and kill it, crushing the sparrow with the same blow.

When the girffon's parents finally arrive for their child and Kel is left standing there with the things she used to bath this pest that clawed and bite her and broke her fingers and cost her sleep and Kel still will miss him, Daine is with her, she understands.

From warhorses too big and stubborn for her that Kel refuses to let be be put down, to the general kindness of putting out food for the local sparrows, to paying for the sausages stolen by a random ugly dog and stopping the man who wanted to hurt it- From the moment Kel arrived at the palace, she showed a value for the lives of creatures that nearly everyone else around her didn't.

In Haven, when Daine fills many of the fort animals with magic and changes them so they can think more like humans, it's not because Kel needs the help. I don't think it's even wholly because the animals asked.

But she knows. She knows how Kel thinks of animals- Beings to be respected even when they are ugly, even when they are ornery or annoying or get in the way, even when they are small and cannot speak.

Even though Kel hasn't a drop of wild magic, she still is ready to die fighting for the animals who need her. They are People to her, too.

And she will protect them.

I just wish we talked about that more. Daine and Kel's connection is an understated but crucial core part of the Protector of the Small books, and it makes me cry Every. Single. Time.

Hello this is beautiful and make me cry just a little bit because you're so fucking right. Dead on. Every word.

For Kel, it doesn't matter who someone is -- young or old, weak or strong, male or female (or other), ally or enemy, human or horse or cat, they are all valuable to her. They are all people, and they are all worthy of her protection. And she'll work with them, meet them where they are. She doesn't want to change them or break them or make them any less than they were born to be. She loves Peachblossom's stubbornness and pride. She loves Jump's mischief. She loves watching the griffin grown and thrive. If they were different, they wouldn't be them.

She sees the creatures' intelligence and their kindness and their courage -- and their sacrifice. She sees them the same as any human. The sparrow was as much a soldier as Oluf was, or Gil. And she mourns them the same.

It makes sense that Daine sees the People as people, of course, because she is of their blood. She can speak with them, understand them, become them. Other folks might scoff at it, but they also respect it as a part of her power -- and she's powerful enough they wouldn't dare say much to her face. They might respect it, but there are still likely few who truly understand it like Kel does, few who feel the same way. Kel has no connection to the animals beyond just... kindness. Compassion. But her connection by choice and caring is just as powerful as Daine's connection by blood and magic.

I hope they get to connect more, perhaps in times of peace. Share stories of their animals, or share knowledge and skills. They would be good for each other. A steady soul, an understanding heart, a kind hand. They'd have a lot to talk about. And they both need more friends, people to lean on and let carry them when things are heavy.

[tainted-wine]

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

[hugthepanda12]

I <3 Arlo - my thoughts on the show

episode 1: Furlecia is an icon. She undestands that sometimes cutting your fringe is the best coping mechanism and is ready to help. Precious ballfur lady <3 Also Ansel trying to do the dad thing. He's trying and we love him for that.

episode 2: Alia's arc??? Character development? Super way to dealing with your limitations??? Also Arlo being extra helpful and supportive!!?? This is a very valuable ep especially for those kids who suffer from conditions that won't let them focus.

Alia is my hero.

episode 3: Body positivity + ghost story? that's an incredible combo! that bird has no chill and apparently Marcellus can be a wise friend <3 He will share pizza crusts with you too on condition you start crying! Disgusting is new beautiful, remember that <3

episode 4: Arlo literally said 'i don't understand the need to be alone but Bertie for you I'll provide you the nice environment for your alone time bc i love you' and that is so sweet and thoughtfull I can't.

episode 5 Furlecia honey, you're an icon but you gotta relax! Good lesson on what stress can do to us if we overwork :( Furlecia skating so fab ily 

miss president: ok establishing boundaries. I love that for you <3

episode 6: continuation from the film: Ansel feels insecure about the dad thing but wants to impress his son. Fortunately Arlo explains that he doesn't care about the expensive trip experiences. He values simple things and Ansel starts to understand Arlo's pov.

episode 7: FROG DOES THE FLOP flop fLOp coz it's homesick :( but at the end of the episode Jeromio is happy and that's all that matters :3

episode 8: Marcellus you jerk. .......... Wait Mercellus sweety I'm sorry I doubted you!!! <3

episode 9

Jeromio, Jeromio You came into my home-io And you won't leave me alone-io

also head empty only Ansel and beast dancing hula

episode 10: you mean my fav episode? Arlo having hallucinations was so funny I can't... And damn it had a sadder undertone too... Ansel really was desperate to hep him !!! I'm so glad that in the end he succeded! <3

episode 11: wow a great representation how our bad mood can change people all around us. haha Bertie's gasp when Arlo said he wants to be alone. Right then she knew: 'That alligator boy now turned into me and it’s my fault!'

episode 12: CRAB LADY I BELIEVED IN YOU but hey they made ‘what are those vine’ come to life! Wait I take that back dear evil crab lady I love you

episode 13: hot weather not good octopus is in love with Ansel's statue? Bertie being irresponsible for once? I mean yeah go girl, but Arlo's in trouble now! episode 14 Tony's parents be like: we don't love u bc u don't steal. Ok nevermind at least you can lie. ... and then they steal Ansel's helicopter. I love the easter egg - ansel's song from the movie is played in one scene

episode 15 aka follow me home reprise but in New York

episode 16 jeromio facepalming my beloved Weird carousel administrator my beloved I want to steal your means of transportation daaw~ Arlo trying to impress his papa by repairing his fav carousel. What can go wrong?

episode 17 head empty only Pumpkin Boy name reveal. His name is GORDON! Also that scene when Arlo was interrogating himself was funny

episode 18 ok I would never have expected a new villain there. Furlecia proving her disguise is the best. I want to see more her skills in action in s2. Marcellus sometimes has great ideas pass it on Edmee proving she's the most rad granny in the world. And yey! Edmee and Ansel introducing to each other! Edme living on the Seaside with her alligator son! Miss President and Ansel my new otp!

Summary:

Overall, I <3 Arlo is a lovely animation! I love the references from the movie and kinda musical-like nature of the show. ‘Slow walk’ is undeniably my favourite track from the soundtrack! The only thing that bugged me but oonly a little bit is that Bertie has more screentime than the rest of Arlo’s friends. However these characters do have their own episodes so this way it is balanced. The series is both comedy gold and educational because they tackle serious issues in a funny way, such as the odds of parenting (especially when you enter the child’s life in a later stage), the need for privacy, wanting the acceptance of your parents/ people, the struggles of an introverted person to fit in. 

So, do I recommed? hell yeah, go and watch it!

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 10- These Are Strange Times

Summary: Could something positive be truly on the horizon? With the random intrusion of though-to-be-dead Scott Lang at the Avengers Facility, your hope for seeing Bucky again may have yet to be a possibility.

Warning: yeah nothing enjoy the ride

Masterlist

-Five years since the Blip-

Throwing on a dark sleeveless top, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to sneeze which evidently causes your little furry companion to startle at the unexpected noise. The furry tigress lets out a meow of protest that pulls forth a humored snicker from you, while the little beast sends you an annoyed look.

Recovering her bearings in a flash, she walks across the short wooden dresser like a model strutting on the runway, her thick mane of mahogany and dark chocolate fur glossy and adequately brushed to perfection, just how your spoiled Main Coon, Silver, likes it.

She purrs happily as she begins playing with Bucky’s dog tags that lay across the small dresser top.

“What are you do..? Oh give me that you little shit.” Silver ignores you until she’s rudely lifted and placed firmly on the carpeted floor before you snatch up the valuable memorabilia. Placing it around your neck where it belongs then glancing down to give her a casual shrug, “Don’t give me that look Silv, I bought you a cool bird feathered cat toy like three days ago. What happened to that?” Silver meows, running her head against your worn out old boots as you smile, “Guess it’s as good as dead huh, you little beast. Now you staying or coming with me to find Nat?” Nothing but purrs of affection.

You lean down to gently rub her head before standing up fully and heading for the door, Silver hot on your heels. Soon you’re both traveling down the hallway until you finally reach the large study. Natasha’s on a conference call with Carol, Rodney, Okoye, and the last two guardians of the galaxy, Rocket and Nebula. And by the looks of it, nothing new has been reported. How disappointing.

Soon they all log off, leaving Natasha alone with Rodney who stays to give Nat a little insight into Barton’s violent whereabouts from the last couple years since he’s been rouge. Apparently he took out a whole cartel in Mexico, so he’s been busy. Definitely not keeping up with those group therapy sessions Steve makes you go to to help cope with the loss. Not that you’ve actually been that consistent with them if we’re being real here.

Quickly enough, Rodney logs out, leaving a tearfully conflicted Natasha as she slouches in her comfy swivel chair. Head in her hands as she holds back the waterfall that threatens to spill within her. You take a step forward, leaning casually against a steel rimmed display area for random nick-nacks. “I’d join you in the fun, but I’m limiting my crying sessions between 1 and 2 in the morning on Tuesdays. So, uh....I brought Silver.” You smile, pointing a finger down to your loyal companion, “Well I guess she brought herself but you know.”

Natasha breaks out into a reluctant grin, genuinely happy to have a bit of positive company within her gloom, “And you didn’t even want her to begin with.” Laughs the red head, “Now I never see one without the other.”

You nod with an almost shy smile, “Yeah, she’s alright.” 

You hear soft movement making its way through the hallway behind you just as Silver meows when Steve casually saunters into the room, coming to stand next to your side as the furry beast paws at his shoes, “What are you here for? Doing some laundry?” You tease at the tall blonde.

Steve smiles at your little jab since he’s not usually always present, doing Captain America stuff and whatnot, “Just here to see some friends.”

Natasha chuckles through glossy eyes, “Well clearly your friends are doing just fine.” Steve knowingly nods paired with a small smile, both you and Natasha look relatively well kept and functional as usual. It’s just, there’s a palpable pain and hidden darkness that always appears to simmer lowly on the surface. Just enough for a skilled eye like Steve’s to notice.

“Exactly.” You add, wandering over to sit cross legged on Natasha’s desk as Steve moves to lean against the display, “But if you’re here to tell us to look on the bright side...”

“I’m gonna hit you in the head with this peanut butter sandwich.” Finishes Natasha with a pursued lipped grin as the 90 year old nods. “Um, right. Force of habit.” Admits Steve, pushing himself off the surface to find a seat next to you and directly across from Natasha. 

The three of you keep to a mutual silence for a long moment until he finally speaks, “You know,” Starts Steve thoughtfully, “I keep telling everybody they should move on...and grow. Some do.” He pauses for a moment as you frown, Natasha looking elsewhere as Steve finally continues, “But not us.”

She shakes her head, “If we move on, who does this?”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be done.” Suggests Steve, he means well of course, but maybe he’s right after all, its been five fucking years with absolutely nothing to make for it. Nothing of any significant progress or even a possible way to fix what's happened. 

Natasha blinks through bleary eyes of saddened green while you pet Silver’s furry mane, refusing to give in to that notion, “No.” You whisper softly, causing them to look at you, “We can’t, it wouldn’t be right...at least,” You let out a gentle sigh, “at least not for me....before all of this, before I met all of you. I had nothing.” You admit thoughtfully, “Not a soul in the world who gave a damn whether I lived or died. Then I found Bucky, then I found this. This.....family. And because of it, I’m better off now then I was ten years ago.”

They keep a respectful silence as your breaths become shaky, teary eyes now trained onto Silver’s little ears, “And I know they’re gone now, believe me I fucking know it, but I’m still trying to be better.” Natasha nods in deep understanding, a couple stray tears falling down her cheeks as Steve crosses his arms.

“I think we all need to get a life.” He muses, his tone light as he tries to pull you two back from the edge of grief. You give him a friendly nudge at his annoying brotherliness, “You first.” He chuckles as you throw him a playful glare while Natasha checks an incoming call.

“Oh, hi! Hello! Is anyone home?” Speaks a man frantically from one of the security cameras, an orange van behind him, “This is, uh, Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport.....in Germany?” Now you’ve got his attention.

“What the fuck?” You mutter in bewilderment at the blue tinged image of Scott as Steve and Nat share a confused glance, the three of you quickly rising to your feet while Scott keeps talking about who he is, how he got here, and what he’s learned about the world so far.

“Is this an old message?” Wonders Steve as he studies the image of Scott who’s still waving his hands up at the security camera.

“It’s the front gate.” Replies Natasha with a hopeful smile.

——

All you came here to do was shoot the shit with Natasha and maybe make some actual dinner, but here you are, laying across the study’s plush couch as Scott rambles on and on about the quantum realm. Whatever that happens to actually be, you’ve never heard of anything like that before, but then again you didn’t know aliens existed at one point. So perhaps anything's possible.

Silver brushes her fluffy head across your fingers as they dangle over the couches edge while Scott keeps at his long-winded tellings of how he got there, what it was like, that he’s been technically gone for only five hours, and now he thinks there’s a way to enter this new plane of existence and travel to a fresh alternate reality. Like through a time machine type deal, or whatever he’s on about.

Apparently he means one before Thanos. But it honestly sounds like a load of horseshit and gibberish coming from a desperate man refusing to acknowledge that this is the new shit reality. There’s no fucking way that’s even goddamn possible, right? No way. 

Maybe?

Drifting back out of your doubtful thoughts, you swiftly move yourself into a seated position as Scott begins to self doubt. Head lowering as he mumbles about how crazy that it. You start chuckling as he throws you an almost embarrassed look. “Scott.” You speak to gather his attention, “Nat gets emails from a raccoon. Your idea is admittedly a bit nuts, but nothings that crazy anymore considering all the wild shit I’ve witnessed in the past six years. So I don’t know, maybe there’s a way.”

Scott flashes a hopeful smile as his brows furrow in thought, uncertainty seeping right back into him, “So, uh...who do we talk to about this?”

——

“Stark! Miss us?” You shout at Tony as he holds Morgan in his left arm, an Ironman helmet grasped firmly in the right. He gives the four of you a less then enthusiastic nod of acknowledgment before wordlessly turning around and taking a step up onto the wooden porch.

You give Steve a shrug, “He misses us I can tell.”

Soon Tony let’s Morgan go off to play with you as you opt in to be the babysitter slash distraction from the grownups who are currently discussing if time travel and gathering the stones for ourselves is even a possibility, or even a palpable option that can be done. You skillfully listen to everything they’re saying as the little Stark shows off her array of multiple plant-life assortments picked from the local greenery.

“So I got this cone from that tree over there and then I put a frog in a glass but dad said I had to let him go so I did.” Babbles on the five year old as you entertain her constant musings.

You raise a brow, knowing her shenanigans all too well, “Is he in the garden?”

She mischievously smirks, sneakily peaking over at Tony who’s seated up on the porch, before giving you a nod, “Yeah. I made him a little house from some flat rocks I found too. I named him Froggo.”

You chuckle, “Oh really, Froggo? I like it, has a nice ring to it.” She nods in delight before walking into her tiny tent to retrieve something new as you catch either Scott or Steve saying something about a time heist, what the hell are they going on about now?

“Y/N! Look at this!” Calls Morgan excitedly while bursting out of the tent to run on short legs over to you who’s seated comfortably in the grass, “I got a cool rock from the lake but I didn’t get to show you last time cause you left early.”

Raising your brows in surprise, though you don’t exactly feel as thrilled as she is, you make sure she knows you care, “Woah! A cool rock from the lake, why Morgan I gotta see this.”

“Look.” She hands you a dull grey rock with a tiny fossil shell indentation on it, “It’s from the dinosaurs.”

Examining the small round object, you nod, “Next thing you know I’ll come back to a whole dinosaur excavation site. Impressive Professor Grant, I’m thoroughly amazed.”

She giggles in excitement, “Y/N I know what that means now.” You give her an inquiring look as she smiles proudly, “That’s from Jurassic Park.”

“And your dad let you watch that, with the big Trex eating the goat and everything?” You tease before handing her the prized object, “Next thing I know you’re going to have a whole dinosaur skeleton in your house.”

“Yeah that would be cool. Thanks ninja turtle.” Cackles Morgan as she hugs her rock, smiling brightly as you throw her a puzzled look before joining in on the laughter. “Okay, now you’ve lost me kid, I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She shrugs innocently, “Dad told me to call you that.” Clearly not understanding what she just called you either. A ninja turtle? The fuck is a ninja turtle?

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You muse before looking up to the four of them getting closer to a heated discussion, “Alright Morgs let’s go save your dad before he decides never to invite us back for dinner again.” You add, quickly rising to your feet as she laughs before racing past you, on a beeline for Tony.

You choose to stay out of the conversation and instead wait for Steve, Natasha, and Scott to start walking back towards the car. You lean against the metal as Steve round the corner before catching your eye as he goes down the three steps, “Are we banished from the castle? I was kinda hoping not cause I actually like Pepper’s cooking.”

Steve smiles, “No. He’s not gonna help us is all.”

“Damn that’s shitty.” You retort with a tinge of genuine disappointment, you don’t completely believe this shit is even possible. But dammit if you don’t want them to at least try for all it’s worth. “So what now? I’m guessing you bastards aren’t gonna let this go anytime soon. And cause Tony’s out for the count, we obviously need some different brain power.”

Steve nods while walking closer to the car, “We wanna do this right. So, yeah, we’re gonna need a really big brain.”

Scott turns from Steve to point a thumb in Tony’s general direction, face a mask of confused puzzlement, “Bigger then his?”

-

After a less then pleasant adventure to some cozy little diner in New Jersey where the four of you were subjected to Banner in his weird Hulkness body or whatever the hell he is now. Turns out he was most definitely on board for this time traveling experimentation. Of course he was, the weirdo takes fucking selfies with children nowadays. 

So here you five are now, in the giant glass and metal garage of the Avengers Facility getting things ready for whatever nonsense is about to take place next. The back of Scott’s orange van closed for the moment, keeping hidden some reactor core thing behind its doors. Scott in some safety quantum realm suit while Banner and Natasha stand behind a large intricate assembly of high tech equipment in preparation for the events to hopefully follow.

You keep an amused yet genuinely curious stance off to the side as Bruce gives you a thumbs up, nodding, you face Scott who’s walking over to the van. “Okay, here we go. Time travel test number one everybody! Scott get that bitch open!” You shout with a small bout of rare enthusiasm while he opens up the doors.

“Emergency generators are on standby.” Announces Steve as he walks into view from behind some large plastic containers covered in safety rope.

Banner nods, “Good, because if we blow the grid, I don’t wanna lose, uh..” He points a green thumb at Scott who’s getting his helmet ready, “Tiny here in the 1950’s.”

Scott’s head snaps up in an instant, “Excuse me?” He worries.

Natasha smiles while looking down at her touch pad, “He’s kidding.” She sing songs before shaking her head up at Banner, “You can’t say things like that.”

Banner turns around to face a fearful Scott as you snort at the small bout of humor that you did happen to find rather amusing. Then again, you’re not the labs guinea pig, so instead you casually shrug while giving Scott a half persuasive grin and a thumbs up of reassurance, “Bad joke.” You add as Bruce nervously laughs, “Yeah, it was a bad joke.”

Scott nods apprehensively before turning to walk over to the reactor, appearing to believe the two of you, “You were kidding, right?” Asks Natasha as you raise a brow at Bruce in question. Albeit a smidge doubtful he actually one-hundred percent knows what he’s doing.

“I have no idea.” Whisper yells Banner, confirming your suspicions, “We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke, or none of it is.” Explains Bruce, suddenly smiling as he lifts his attention back over to Scott, “We’re good!” He shouts with a positive thumbs up of that prominently famous green.

“Oh we’re so fucked.” You mutter humorously while Natasha shares an uncertain look with you.

“Get your helmet on.” States Banner as Scott does just that, “Scott, I’m gonna send you back a week...let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Make sense?”

Scott smiles brightly, waving him off with confidence, “Perfectly not confusing.” He muses with an almost annoyingly positive expression.

“Good luck Scott. You got this.” Encourages Steve while Scott grins proudly. “You’re right. I do, Captain America.” Then just like that’s he’s gone, sucked into the reactor like a crumb into a vacuum cleaner.

“On a count of three..” Begins Banner, “Three, two, one.” Bruce flips some switches as the machine whirs before a second later and there’s Scott. In the body of a teen. “Uh, guys? This doesn’t feel right.” Worries teen Scott as his brows furrow in confusion, clearly not aware of how he looks. This just got interesting.

“What’s going on?” Questions Steve as Bruce urgently flicks more switches. “Who is that?” Wonders Natasha as you snort at teen Scott, snickering at how absolutely ridiculous your life is becoming and the weird shit you’re adding to the list.

“Oh my god he looks so innocent, like before the world hurt him.” You muse as Natasha’s brows raise in bewilderment, giving you a side glance as she focuses back on the person in question. “Is that, Scott?”

“Yes, it’s Scott!” Protests the sassy little 14 year old before whoosh and he’s gone once again while Banner squats down out of view to mess with some more buttons. A hot second later Scott’s back, this time looking significantly different.

“Oh, my back!” Complains the short wrinkly 80 year old man, Steve sending the back of Bruce a troubled look, “What is this?”

“Hold on a second. Could I get a little space guys.”

Steve hastily jogs around Bruce as he makes his way over to you and Nat, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you bring him back?”

“I’m working on it.” Mumbles Banner with underlying urgency as he flicks more switches in hopes of getting a better result, whoosh, and Scott’s gone again before reappearing as a...

“It’s a baby.” Deadpans Steve in astonishment.

You burst with laughter, “It’s Scott! Let’s just keep him this way so we don’t have to hear him ramble about how amazing you are, Captain America.” You tease playfully as Steve throws you a what-the-fuck kinda expression. “Y/N! He’s a baby!”

“He‘ll grow.” Adds Bruce as you shrug in agreement. Crossing your arms as you study baby Scott, “Steve you can change the diapers.”

“Bring Scott back.” Urges Steve as he ignores you and Banners amusement of the situation.

“Alright fine.” Chides Bruce, “When I say kill the power, kill the power.”

Natasha rushes past you while mumbling, “Oh, my God.” As you await for Bruce’s fantastic technological skills.

“And....kill it!” Natasha turns the breaker switch downwards and a moment later Scott’s back, this time fully Scott. Whether that’s good or not is debatable.

He stands there, arms open and face twisted in confusion, “Somebody peed my pants. But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me.......Or just...me me.” Speculates Scott as you snort in amusement.

“It was probably just you.”

He sends you an unsure look that’s half offended yet he can’t exactly counter that claim considering he’s just jumped between three different age groups of himself. Bruce claps his hands together before spreading his arms out wide in excitement, “Time travel!” He shouts enthusiastically as Steve shakes his head before turning to walk elsewhere, “What?” Wonders Bruce, “I see this as an absolute win. 

——

In the following weeks after Banner’s half-successful attempt at legitimate time travel, Tony and Rocket have been toiling away tirelessly on Starks actual time machine since he’s agreed to help fix the mess that Thanos left behind. The Avengers base has honestly never been busier; with Tony, Banner, and Rocket working on the giant machine. Everyone else is going about their business helping when needed and hoping for good news.

So here you are now, in the middle of the night with all light sources retired for the evening, hanging out in the kitchen with a bowl of watermelon chunks in your hand, and greatly enjoying the recently rare peace and quiet. Though soon your silent midnight snacking is disrupted when the sounds of human feet padding on tile reaches your ears from down the hallway. Dammit.

The lights flicker on in an instant, blinding your vision for a brief moment before they adjust accordingly to find the blue eyes of Steve, he yelps in surprise, hand holding his chest as he relaxes once more when he realizes it’s just you. Then he does a double take, considering you’re seated crossed legged on the counter with a bowl of watermelon, “Uh, hey there Y/N.”

You nod, awkwardly taking a bite out of your snack, “Steve.”

He raises a curious brow, deciding to step farther into the large kitchen area, “Huh, never seen anyone eat watermelon like that before, but I respect it.” Says the blonde, nodding towards the chopsticks held in your right hand.

“Yeah. Less of a mess.” He nods before taking a Gatorade out of the fridge, “Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it.” He nods before promptly seating himself next to the marble table. “So, eating in the dark? Your inner night owl keeping you from sleeping again?”

You shrug, “I can kinda see in the dark so....yeah, a bit of a night owl.” You admit with a growing frown, not sure why you suddenly feel so down in the dumbs again, “....guess I haven’t really slept well for some time now....well, now since I think about it actually, I probably don’t get as much sleep as your average person.”

“I get that, yeah....I know what you mean.” Lightly chuckles Steve in understanding, taking a small moment of silence to let his mind think of something to sway the atmosphere away from an awkward tension. Parting his eyes away from his clasped hands, he looks up to meet your stoic gaze, “You think all this is possible? I mean they’ve made some real progress and I guess Tony really knows what he’s doing. Still after all this time I can’t help but find it amazing.”

Pursing your lips together in thought, you let a small sigh emit from your parted lips before answering, “I hope so, cause if not. Well, guess that would be as expected.” You admit with a frown, “Maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go....a fitting punishment for my lengthy list of crimes. I guess that’s fair.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Counters Steve as he sends you a sympathetic look, “What happened to you isn’t your fault, neither is what they made you do, or everything Thanos did to the universe....”

“Yeah, guess you’re probably right....it’s just...just so difficult to move on you know? From all of it, everything swirling in my head, and even though it’s been five fucking years now. I still think of that shit, even worse, I still think of Bucky every single day, I miss him.....I just, I miss all of them.” You admit sadly, setting your snack down as Steve takes a moment to reflect on his own losses.

Suddenly his lips curl into a humored smile as he shakes his head, eyes looking down at the table before they connect with your curious ones, “God he was so different back in the 40’s....Y/N you wouldn’t believe the stuff we got up to, jeesh, the stuff he got up to.” Chuckles Steve as you raise an intrigued brow. 

“Alright Rogers care to elaborate?” You press with a growing smile at the thought of Bucky and learning more about him, “Bucky never told me a whole lot about that time. Considering he’ll probably never get the chance, I think I’d like to learn more about him and what shit you people did back then.”

“Aren’t you from the 1950′s?” Inquires Steve with a humored grin as you wave him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I was a baby back then I don’t remember what happened okay,” You explain, “I was born in 53 alright, and let’s not forget I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

Steve nods, “Right. Fair point.....Okay so..” He laughs, “There was this one time and if you knew me back in the day, of course I was getting in an unsolicited scuffle with some boys who thought it was funny to argue with the paperboy.”

Raising a brow, you begin to smile as his eyes light up, “An unsolicited scuffle?” You muse, “Or is this when skinny Steve got his ass kicked by a couple of mangy dogs?”

“Dogs. Yeah that’s probably more fitting, well you know, of course I had to step in and do something.”

“As expected.” You quickly add as he continues.

“Which I did. And let me tell you they were not a fan. Those assholes ran me for two blocks till I got cornered in some market when who would you know it.....Bucky was there, taking some cute strawberry blonde out for a date while he got groceries for his mom.” Chuckles Steve, blue eyes shimmering with the humorous memories coming back to him about his old friend.

You heart subconsciously swells with the thought of Bucky, “Clever man. Sweet talk your girl while doing something useful.”

“Exactly. I would have gotten a bloody nose if he hadn’t thrown a tomato right at the biggest guys head. That thing coated his hair like red paint, then...” Steve balls his fist as he presses it against his mouth to try and keep himself from losing it with laughter, “...then, his friend turned around and smack! Another tomato right in his face.”

Snickering in amusement, you run a hand down the side of your face at the vivid image forming in your head, “oh Bucky..”

“It was pretty damn accurate too. The other guy booked it down the sidewalk before Buck could get him. Then when he started walking towards us, the other guys took off like a couple of scared birds....fortunately leaving me with no bruises that day.” Says Steve proudly, no doubt thinking fondly on that old memory, “Then of course he told me I gotta be more careful and all that stuff, I said I was fine and he want back to shopping with that girl......huh, don’t think I ever saw her again, well....at least with him.”

“Don’t blame her, he sounded like a real ladies man back in the day, she probably got too jealous.” You joke with a small brow wiggle before your smile lessens again, God you miss him so fucking much, “Thanks Steve.....he seemed, so different. It’s just when I knew him, when I first met him that is, Bucky was very different.”

Steve’s face looses it’s once vibrant glow, he keeps a steady gaze set on you now, knowing your time with him was such a chilling contrast to Bucky in the 40’s. You sigh, “I think I would have liked to see that version of Bucky just once, but I liked the Bucky I got after everything we went through.....after everything’s that’s happened. Maybe 40’s Bucky wouldn’t even look in my direction, I’d probably scare the socks off of him anyways.”

Steve shakes his head, “No way Y/N, you’d have him wrapped around your finger so fast, not a doubt in my mind he’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. That’s just who he was, a player yes, but a kind one who treated everyone with respect through that famous charm of his.....and you, you’d have caught his attention in an instant.”

Looking down at your hands, you raise the corner of your lips into a small half grin at the thought of Sergeant Barnes losing it all to the dangerous vixen that is no doubt yourself, now that’s an interesting thought indeed. Bucky in the 40′s, how about that.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not....but I know one thing. That I’m glad to have even known him at all, he was...so special and he didn’t even know it.” You pause for a moment, lips pursing together as you think fondly of your past lover. Steve keeps silent, studying your disheartened features as you gather your words, “So if, if they can somehow do this....if it’s even actually possible to get those fucking stones again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Steve.”

Whatever it takes.

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[shtern-and-art]

Alfhfkdpgn that comic gave me forest boys brain XD.

Skeppy makes Bad mad n after he's jus minding his business in the forest but he swears the animals are mocking him XD. He doesn't think much of it until he snaps his head round the next time he sees one and catches a dear on two legs imitating an exaggerated version of his walk, lmao.

Does Bad have a favourite animal in the forest? I was jus thinking about him being really fond of a little wolf cub n calling it Rat (hehe) and she keeps tormenting Skeppy whenever he's around.

This comic/story makes me so happy :D. When Bad and Skeppy become friends, do they pull kinder pranks on each other? I know Skeppy used to put up things that made Bad mad but does he change that after befriending him?

Ooooooo. Do they get each other gifts? Sorry for all the questions, it's just so much fun to think about!!! Loving everything about it so far!! <3

Aaaaah forest boys, yesyesss, that’s what they are :DDD And don’t worry, thank you for the questions! It’s so cool to see people are interested in this story! It’s me here who’s worried that my answers are always so long, cuz I like to talk about all of this too :D

Anyways! Animals definitely act up on Bad’s behalf, they respond to his mood, and he can even control their behavior a bit! So, yeah, Skeppy gets harassed by snappy birds and rude racoons if Bad is upset with him.

But, dang, the deer encounter straight up murdered me, I just had to do a little comic about it :D It’s about the pranks too, I'm gonna publish it a bit later!

Here's a sneak peek for now:

See under the cut for the stuff about Rat and the gifts!

__________

About Rat: she’s there, and even plot relevant! :D It’s good that you reminded me about it, I gotta add more about her the next story notes post.

To put it shortly – she is the previous “host” of the spirit of the forest! She was a normal wolf (a wolf puppy) many, many years ago, but becoming one with the will of this specific forest turns you color scheme white/black. So she was guarding this lands long before Bad came around. Due to this, Rat is smarter that a normal wolf, but she still is mostly an animal.

She somehow survived the Lead Up and The Incident, when the will of the Forest latched on Bad, and she’s still hanging around, watching over him from semi-distance. Also she can still shapeshift into various sizes and species, and has some other spn-traits and abilities she can use to torment Skeppy :D

Bad is not sure why she’s still around, not dissolved in the forest life, like she should’ve. And why she insistently keeps him company sometimes. Maybe, disappearing takes a long time? Maybe, she just got attached, because he helped her – small, weak, and awkward like a baby rat – after the whole forest spirit switching happened? Or there is something more to it? (there is something more to it, oh yesss :DDD)

__________

And oh, the gifts, yes, I thought about that! Both Bad and Skeppy are quite awkward with that at first, because, like, what can they even give each other, apart from the company? What do they have, that the other might want? They do lead quite different lives. But at the very core they’re still similar, and desire to share something, and brighten the others day in return is there. So, Bad shows Skeppy all the secret places in the forest – hidden springs, and little caves under tree roots, places people have trouble getting to, or maybe don’t even know about. At some point, Bad starts leaving Skeppy little pretty trinkets and lost jewelry he found – shiny and semi valuable things people lost in the woods over the years. Just like a crow :D

And Skeppy gathers the litter in the woods – broken glass from beer and vine bottles, little scraps of metal and rocks he found lying around… And makes improvised windchimes out of them, and hangs them near the clearings deep in the woods. They strum gentle melodies over the rustling of leaves, and reflect stray sun bunnies to the places where, usually, the light can barely reach. They remind Bad of Skeppy a lot.

It’s like a piece of him is always there, even if Skeppy himself is away in the town – working or hanging out.

After a while, the new rumors spread in the town. That sometimes, if you walk alone in the deeper parts of the forest, you might hear distant, beautiful melodies flowing with the gusts of wind; and see bright, impossible lights changing shapes, dancing between the trees. People who try following them inevitably get lost, of course.

With Skeppy around, and with him and Bad getting closer, the woods become weirder… in a scary way, yes. But in a beautiful, slightly melancholic way too.

Also Skeppy definitely buys Bad new cassettes and batteries for his music player :DD

---

In The Dark - masterpost

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part five

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (they’re together in the next chapter i stg)

warnings: language (several f bombs bc i feel like bucky would be liberal w them), sam and bucky being little shits, bad nicknames, 

word count: just under 2500

a/n: long awaited but it’s finally here! i’m super proud of this one :) i hope y’all like it also this was the first time i’ve written something like this so constructive criticism please. i hope i did the characters justice 

p.s.: my requests are still open babes! i’m working on the next part of this series and also possibly continuing TFCL ;) my tag lists are still open as well

please like and reblog if you enjoyed the story 

xoxo ray

series m.list

ray’s m.list

***********************************

The tension in the room was palpable. “What do you mean you know her, Buck?” Steve questioned. Bucky’s eyes were flitting around the room, landing on each face of bewilderment. He honestly didn’t know what he meant but that, it kind of just came out. Where the fuck did that come from? Who is this woman?

“Uh, hello? What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam interjected quickly, to which he received a sharp glare from both Bucky and Steve. Sam shrugged his shoulders and a quiet snort was heard from across the room.

“He’s got a point, Terminator.” Tony said as he plopped himself into one of the rollie chairs. “You can’t just say something like that and then not explain it.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he expelled a grunt as his response to Tony.

“Bucky, you’ve got to give us something to go on here.” Natasha said calmly as she eyed an increasingly agitated Bucky.

Since coming back from Wakanda and being brought into the compound, Steve, Sam and Natasha have learned how to read Bucky. Steve has always been able to read the one hundred and six year old, they have shared life experience. Natasha was is a trained master assassin, trained in the Red Room by the Winter Soldier. One of her most valuable skills is her ability to read the emotions of anyone around her. And Sam, well he still leads a support group down at the VA. Being a war-torn veteran himself, he knows what it’s like to have to deal with the memories.

“Look, I don’t know what I meant by it.” Bucky finally said, throwing his hands above his head in exasperation. “It just came out, ya know? I didn’t process it before I said it and now, it’s out there. And to top it off, I don’t have the fucking memories there to back it up. They’re definitely there, but they aren’t just presenting themselves to me on a silver platter.” The group around him silenced.

Bucky was known for being the quiet, brooding type. His murder stare was comically famous around the compound. Sam constantly picked on Bucky about it, so hearing the man spout more than a few words at a time was a shocking experience for all of them.

“You know, there is a way that we can know what even your own mind doesn’t want you to know.” Tony said, darting his eyes over to Steve, who stood stoically in front of the large monitor.

“Goddamn, Tony! We said this isn’t an episode of FRIENDS!” Sam shouted.

“He won’t like that Tony. You know he won’t.” Natasha cut in quickly.

“But, if it works and it tells us if this woman knows anything, then it’s worth a shot.” Tony shot back.

“Tony. No. He’s already been through that and you want to subject him to it again?” Bucky was listening intently to their conversation, trying to figure out what they were referring to.  Natasha seemed adamant that Bucky would not be a fan of whatever it was. Tony, as usual, couldn’t care less.

“What are we talking about?”

“Wanda.”

“Who’s Wanda again?”

“She’s the witch.”

“We have a witch on our team? That’s not possible, there’s no such thing as witches and wizards.”

“Uh, yeah there is, cyborg.”

“No, there's not bird brain.”

“Yeah. There is, dumbass. She’s the one who does the hand thing and then there’s the crazy red glow around her? She’s got long hair? Dating the android?”

“There’s an android on the team?” Bucky was still getting to know everyone on the team, but he was positive he would know if there was a fucking android on the team.

“Yeah, the guy with the yellow glowy thing embedded in his forehead? Do you pay attention at all, Bucky? He’s dating Wanda, the witch with the red glowy hand thing?” Sam was waving his hands in front of his face and gesturing to his forehead.

“There’s no fucking way. Steve? Is there an android on the team?” Bucky turned to Steve, expecting an answer. All of the sudden, a red mass phased through the wall behind Steve. Vision appeared, looking quizzically around the room.

“Did someone ask for me?” His British accent carried through the room, once again causing the room to silence and turn to Bucky. Bucky’s lips were pursed, disgruntled that Sam was once again right in their little squabbles.

“Alright fine, but there’s not a witch right?”

“If you’re referring to Ms. Maximoff, then no. She simply manipulates molecular polarity allowing her to alter the reality around her.” Vision said it as if Bucky was meant to understand it. When in reality, Bucky was still getting over the fact fangirling that there was an android talking to him.

“However, if calling her a witch makes you more comfortable,” Vision paused and turned towards the doorway on the other end of the room, “I believe you should ask her permission before doing so.” He raised his hand causing Bucky to follow its direction.

“Hey Tony. Friday said you wanted to see me?” Wanda glided into the room, doing a quick survey of its occupants. Her gaze eventually landed on the vibrant being beside Steve. “Vis, you left in the middle of us making dinner. We’ve talked about that.”

“Yes, do forgive me, my love. However, I believe your expertise is required outside of the kitchen.” Wanda’s orbs flicked to Steve’s first and then to Tony’s, waiting for instructions.

“We want you to go inside Barnes’ mind and retrieve memories about someone for us.” Tony stated plainly. Bucky’s eyes widened and his fear grew. She can do that? Who the fuck was going to tell me that? Can she read my mind too? Is she listening now?

“That’s not exactly how it works, Tony.”

“It doesn’t matter because I never agreed to that, Stark.” Bucky said firmly. He was tired of his brain being put in a blender. He was finally getting comfortable in his own body again. He was gaining more and more control over his mind every day. Granted, he wasn’t sleeping because of the nightmares.

No, not nightmares, because of the memories. Why the fuck would he willingly subject himself to that during the daylight? No, his pain, though constant, was only to be shown at night, when he was completely alone and there’s no chance that he could hurt anyone else.

“If this is the only way that we can know for sure, then we need to do it.” Tony pushed, “You know I’m right, Cap. After what happened with the Sokovia Accords, even though they aren’t monitoring us as closely as they could be, they’re still watching. And if we storm in there without any good reason to, then it’s our asses on the line.”

“Hey, I don’t remember giving you authority over my brain. So what the fuck gives you the right to try and get me to do this shit?” Bucky stood as he spoke, “You’re heroes, goddamn it. It’s your fucking job to save people who need you to. So you should fucking do it. With or without a goddamn reason, you prick.” He shoved the chair away from him and stormed out of the room, passed Wanda who watched with a pained expression.

“He’s right, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“About what, Cap?”

“We shouldn’t have to have a reason to do our jobs.”

“All I’m saying is that if he has information about this woman that could help us, we need to know it.” Tony glanced back to Wanda, “What if he’s enhanced like Wanda and Pietro and we go in there guns blazing. What happens if she perceives us as a threat? What then Cap?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Tony.” Steve was the Captain, so ultimately it was his decision. This left Tony incredibly unsatisfied, giving him a reason to implement a plan of his own. “We leave tonight. Be ready to leave in three hours.”

The room emptied quickly, everyone having their own rituals to do before departing on a mission. Steve and Sam were the last to remain in the room. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Sam asked in a hushed whisper.

“It’s the only one I got, Sam.”

“Are you going to let him come on the mission?” Steve made a face as he clenched his jaw. “I mean, Tony has a point. If he knows something, I think we should try to figure out what it is.”

“We can’t ask him to do that, Sam. You know we can’t.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but if you bring him on this mission and he remembers something in the heat of the moment?” Sam turned his body to fully face Steve, “What are we going to do then?” Sam brought up a valid point, but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Bucky from coming on the mission.

“Like I said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

********************************

It was somewhat therapeutic for Bucky to be sharpening his knives. He sat quietly on one of the overstuffed couches in the compound’s common area. A wide array of matte black knives was laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He held one in his hand, raking it against a damp stone to create a slick silver edge on the blade. His solitude didn’t last long, not that he expected it to, especially here in the compound.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wanda.” She stuck her hand out for Bucky to shake which he did, with great caution. There is no telling what this woman is capable of. I don’t need to get too comfortable with her.

“Bucky.” He kept his replies short, in the hopes of deterring her from wanting to interact with him. He knows that is exactly what Steve and his therapist in Wakanda told him to stop doing, but that’s irrelevant.

“I know what Tony was suggesting for us to do isn’t ideal, Bucky.” Bucky shuddered unintentionally, his fear rolling off of him in waves. “I just wanted to let you know, I would never do that to you. Not unless you asked me to and even then I don’t know if I would.” Bucky turned his head to face her. She seemed sincere, but then again people are always rotten on the inside.

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve heard one too many promises in my day, Wanda.” He shifted back to his original task, flipping another knife into the palm of his hand and dragging it along the stone. Wanda nods and lifts herself to her feet, about to retreat to the kitchen.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Bucky froze mid-drag, eyes boring holes into the table in front of him, not responding to Wanda. “The reason you don’t want me in your head?”

“What do you know of nightmares, witch?” Bucky sneered defensively.

“You would be surprised what I know of nightmares, Bucky.” She approached the back of the couch, curling her hands around the plush fabric. “My brother, Pietro, and I, volunteered for the experiments with HYDRA.” Bucky whipped his head around to face her, immediately registering her on a higher threat level. She lifted her right hand and a glowing red ball danced between her fingers as dynamic vines licked up her palm.

“We thought that they were there to help after everything that we went through in Sokovia.” Her accent thickened with each word, “After Stark’s bomb didn’t go off, we thought it meant we were destined to take him down. So we went to the closest freedom fighter group we could find.”

Bucky watched as she dropped her hand, the red energy dissipating immediately. “We weren’t the only ones, though. There were hundreds of us. Pietro and I just so happened to be the ones that were able to withstand what they put us through.” Their eyes met, gaze holding as she continued speaking. “Then, I watched their future. And in their ideal future, we weren’t there. None of us. No Avengers or enhanced people. No humans whatsoever.” She swallowed thickly, “That’s when we knew they lied. We had suspicions earlier, but we just did what we were told so we could get what we wanted.”

“What exactly did you want?”

“We wanted Stark dead.” She held Bucky’s eyeline. “But now, my brother is dead. And all I want is to see HYDRA's downfall at my hands.” She glanced back down at her hands, “What Tony wanted me to do,” hesitating as she continued, “I know he just wants me to go through your memories and pick out the ones specific to Agent Libra, but that’s not how it works.” Bucky looked at her and then leaned back into the couch cushions, gesturing for her to continue. “The way that I would go about that would be to have you experience the whole thing over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Wanda sucked in a deep breath, “It’s like a lucid dream. Your body would be moving and you wouldn’t be in control of it. Any action that you did at that particular moment in history would be reenacted exactly as it occurred.”

“So, if I were to do this, it would be like I was the Soldier again?”

“If that’s what it felt like, then yes.” A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine, he definitely didn’t want that. “I just wanted you to know what you would be getting yourself into if you did decide to allow me access to your memories.” A stiff nod was all she received in return.

He knows she’s just trying to be nice but he can’t help but want to run away and hide in a dark room. Bucky has been through so much because of that freedom fighter organization, he couldn’t fathom people actually volunteering their bodies for their twisted scientific experiments.

“Thanks for letting me know, Ms. Maximoff.” Even though Bucky wanted nothing to do with this woman next to him, his mother still raised him to be respectful of everyone.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda.” She smiled as she began her approach to the kitchen yet again. One thing was still nagging Bucky and he had to know the answer.

“Hey, quick question Wanda.” She stopped and turned to face him, sending a small hum in question towards him. “Are you a witch?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, “Yes, I am.” She left it at that, leaving Bucky with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open. Goddamn it, I fucking hate it when Sam is right.

*****************************

watch your six tag list

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza 

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Never gonna happen

(Looking at the art deity @cacodaemonia​ ‘s work for inspiration to help me through the next chapter of Time To Say Goodbye and I couldn’t stop giggling at this one. And suddenly this one-shot was written. Poor Mose xD )

-

The bar is crowded with souls from every corner of the Galaxy and none which one should be turning one’s back on. In the corner of the room, Mose tips the food on his plate into his big mouth while Zev’sonya leans back in her chair and takes a big swallow from her glass of hard liquor.

They are between work, and also between crews as the previous one made the mistake of heavily hinting to her how many credits they could get by visiting one of the blood farms with Mose.

So, yeah, Zev’sonya is in a foul mood and of course that means some moron has to appear and try his luck charming her.

Her initial reaction and instinct is to tell the idiot to go away before she cuts him, but one glance at his face makes her change her mind. Instead of scowling, she puts on a smile. Instead of threats, Zev’sonya nods for him to take the seat next to her.

Mose chews and watches them with a slight frown.

The idiot introduces himself as Dannian or something. He offers to buy her a drink while he does a poor job at trying to map her body with his eyes and hating her layers of clothing for making it difficult. Zev’sonya keeps her smile on and pretends not to notice.

And soon she accepts the offer from this Durian-guy to travel back to his planet with him as his guest, on the one condition that her friend got to come along as well.

While Durian-guy tries to act like he’s perfectly fine with having a Hutt join them, Zev’sonya gives her sweet smile to Mose, who returns it with a faint narrowing of his eyes in a silent question.

Zev’sonya takes the hand Durian-guy offers her and lets him help her to her feet before looking back at Mose again, still smiling. “You coming?”

Sighing, Mose puts his plate down. “Yeah, yeah…”

She knew he would. He always does. He’s the one soul she can trust.

On the ship, Mose stays in the back, in the shadows, while Zev’sonya allows the Durian-guy to cozy up to her. She giggles at the lame jokes he delivers and swoons at the lies he serves her.

The planet they land on is quite beautiful with sleek, golden buildings and a warm, red sky. The air smells like sugar. They walk to an impossibly tall tower where servants scramble to obey Durian-guy’s every whim, just like he said they would and Zev’sonya knew they would.

Mose keeps quiet and remains in the background, but he follows. 

Though, unease flutters across his face later, when Zev’sonya appears in a slinky dress that had been brought to her room for her to wear to tonight’s big dinner in the tower. He’s clearly worried she’s lost her mind.

Zev’sona gives Mose another sweet smile and lets Durian-guy place his hand on her bare back as he guides her over to the seat next to him. Mose shakes his head and eats.

It’s in the middle of the night when the door to Mose’s room slides open and Zev’sonya sneaks inside. “Mose…” She whispers.

Mose frowns without opening his eyes or getting up from where he’s sleeping on the floor. “What?”

“We have to leave.” Zev’sonya continues, keeping her voice down so no one else will hear her. “Now.”

Mose opens his eyes and stares directly at her. “What did you do?” His voice is an odd mix of resignation and wariness, but he doesn’t sound surprised. At all. Like he was expecting this.

Zev’sonya can’t help it, she grins, too pleased with herself not to. “Relax. He’s fine. I didn’t put a finger on him.”

“What,” Mose gets up and sighs, “did you do, Lorda?”

“You didn’t recognize him, huh?” Zev’sonya says as they leave the room. “Well, I did. I saw that guy’s face on a propaganda bulletin thing last month. Durian is a prince on this planet and a huge player in the slave trade.”

They pause in the shadows as two guards walk by before Zev’sonya gestures for Mose to follow, which he does, and they actually manage to sneak out of the building undetected.

“I just thought him having so many credits from his business deals, he wouldn’t mind sharing them with us.” Zev’sonya states gleefully, feeling the weight of all the jewellery and other valuables in her countless pockets. “He was only too happy to show me where he kept all his treasures. Not exactly humble or smart.”

“A prince, Lorda.” Mose growls. “You decided to rob a prince. On his home planet. Without an escape ship or a back-up crew.”

Zev’sonya makes a face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“We talked about this.” Mose sighs, shuffling along after her as she scouts for a ship to steal.

“You need to learn to get a little more fun out of life, pateesa.” Zev’sonya grins, then lights up as she sees a small and fast ship that is perfect for them. “Ah hah. That one.”

“What I need is to sleep through a night without having to flee for my life…” Mose mutters.

Snorting a laugh, Zev’sonya slices the computer lock on the ship’s door and it slides open to let them in. “You want a straw? I mean, since you’re set on sucking the fun out of things?”

“No, I just want to get off this planet before they start shooting at us.”

Zev’sonya gets into the pilot seat and starts awakening the ship from its slumber. It’s fairly easy and soon they are heading towards the safety of space. She glances back into the passenger seating area outside the cockpit door and grins at Mose. “See? You worry too much.”

Mose huffs, unimpressed, and merely tries to get his big bulk comfortable between the narrow path between the row of seats at opposite sides of him. Few ships are designed for a Hutt body and this small craft is clearly not.

Zev’sonya is about to reassure him that they’ll land and sell the ship and get a better one as soon as possible when a beeping sound draws her attention. She turns forward again and the smile on her face fades when she sees the multiple dots on the radar following them. “Oh.”

Mose stops fidgeting and stares at her. “What?”

Zev’sonya clears her throat. “I think he found out.”

“Here we go…” Mose sighs. “Are we in trouble?”

Frowning, Zev’sonya flips some switches and pushes some buttons, pushing the engine to the limit to reach top speed. It helps, but not for long. The dots on the radars increase their speed as well and soon they even start catching up. “I wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘trouble’…”

“What word would you use?” Mose demands.

“Uhm…” Zev’sonya glances to the left when a warning shot is fired by the ship. “That things might get a little… interesting?”

Mose mutters something rude in Huttese.

A second shot comes dangerously close to the ship and Zev’sonya snarls angrily. They want to punish her for stealing stuff Durian-guy can afford losing three times over? Fine. But they do NOT get to shoot down Mose for her idiocy. She gets up and runs out of the cockpit, running across the seats to get by Mose to reach the narrow, circular opening in the floor that will lead her to the ship’s weapons. “Take over the controls. Keep up the speed and be ready to dodge. I’ll get on our guns.”

“What do you-No, wait, get back here! I can’t…” Mose blurts out as she goes by, but then the ship shakes as a third shot clearly comes too close for comfort.

“Do it!” Zev’sonya shouts as she climbs down the ladder and then rushes over to activate the weapons.

There are about seven or eight ships pursuing them and it is quite satisfying seeing them scatter like startled birds when she starts firing at them.

Mose is a skilled pilot, just rarely fits into a cockpit, so he keeps them going while Zev’sonya convinces the ones following them it would be wise to simply let them go. It takes quite a bit of persuading, whatever Durian-guy is paying them must be a lot, but eventually they decide they’ve chased them far enough and the risk isn’t worth it, so they turn and head back to the planet far away in the distance.

Cackling satisfied, Zev’sonya climbs back up the ladder. “We’re good.”

“You’re sure?” Mose asks, his upper torso in the cockpit as he has his hands on the controls while the rest of him is still in the passenger area.

“I’m sure.” Zev’sonya says, hopping up on the chairs to make her way towards the cockpit without stepping on his tail. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Mose replies, then sighs and slumps a little. “Because I’m stuck.”

“Really?” Zev’sonya blinks, surprised, then steps off the chairs and on to his back, ignoring his soft grunt of annoyance, gingerly walking up to where she crouches down and can see the door frame is digging into his sides.

“Really.” Mose grumbles.

Caught between feeling guilty and the urge to laugh, Zev’sonya clears her throat and heads back into the ship again. “I’ll go see if we got some grease.”

She finds some by a panel where somebody had been doing repairs or maintenance.

It takes a bit of time and effort, plus all of her might pulling on his arm, but finally Mose, after one careful inch after another, finally slides free with a loud schlurp. He exhales with relief and lets go of Zev’sonya’s hand so she falls on her back with a startled squawk.

Laughing up at the ceiling, not begrudging him a little payback, Zev’sonya revels in her smugness at their success. “I told you; you worry too much.”

Watching her, Mose shakes his head a little. “I feel so bad for the one who ends up marrying you, Lorda.”

Sitting up with a heartfelt scoff, Zev’sonya speaks with utter certainty: “That, pateesa, is never going to happen.”

There is absolutely zero chance of her agreeing to something so stupid. That kind of love isn’t real, the only one she will ever trust is Mose and marriage is for naive idiots.

Not going to happen.

Never.

[musetta3]

Dragon Age OC as a Companion: Revka Cadash

Trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan it’s an amazing one and I had such fun with it! Thank you for the template!

This will be under a cut, because ohhhhhh my, there’s a lot here <3

This is also on AO3!

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀) 

You have selected Revka Cadash to join your party!

Race: Dwarf 

Affiliation: Carta 

Gender: Female

Class: Rogue/Archer

Specialization: artificer

 Background

Revka Cordelia Cadash (born 8:95 Blessed) is a dwarven rogue and businesswoman. She is a companion and a potential romance option for a male human, dwarf, or qunari Inquisitor in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Revka is a member of the many-membered Cadash Clan, and daughter of Brygida ‘Cookie’ Cadash and Artur ‘Archie’ Cadash. She has an older brother, Tavi, as well as numerous cousins, including Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash, the head of the Ferelden Carta.  

Revka grew up in the company of her rambunctious cousins, and thus views them like brothers and sisters. It’s common for Cadashes to play tricks and pull pranks on each other as a way to show affection, as is evidenced in the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze.’ Some of Revka’s favorite pranks include spiking food with chili oil, switching people’s beverages, hiding belongings, and breaking into ‘private’ things such as journals, desk contents, or that box of cookies under the bed.  

Revka made a name for herself in the Carta accompanying her mother and cousins on patrol as a teen. Her deadly accuracy with a bow earned her the nickname ‘Hawkeye;’ her duties quickly expanded to include ‘problem-solving’ for the Carta, her solutions ranging from assassinations, blackmail, and negotiating contracts, to smuggling, and forgeries. Her successful business plans and battle tactics made her a valuable asset to the Carta.

In 9:13 Dragon, Revka married Iwan Feddic, a member of the merchant caste and a Cadash client in Ostwick. She helped her husband run his international shipping business, a venture she took over after his untimely death. When Dasher’s wife, Darya, died at the hands of the Orlesian Carta, Revka returned to Ferelden to help her cousin raise his five children, turning over the Ostwicker affairs to her brother, Tavi.

When the Cadashes eliminated a rival Carta branch in Kirkwall, they sent Artur Cadash to oversee operations in the city. 22-year-old Revka volunteered to accompany him, becoming her father’s second in command. Once arrived in Kirkwall, she helped him found Graywater Imports, an import/export company functioning as a storefront for both legal and illegal goods. She is a prominent member of the Cadash Carta branch in Kirkwall, often dealing with the Dwarven Merchant Guild and Varric Tethras.

Romance with Varric Tethras

Shortly after Revka arrived in Kirkwall, she met the young Varric Tethras. What began as mixing business with pleasure became a romantic entanglement that lasted until Tethras met the talented smith Bianca Davri, and broke off with Revka for Bianca. As much as Revka wanted to cut all ties with him, she maintained their business relationship… and an unrequited, one-sided love for the deshyr prince.

Involvement

A special mission at the War Table will unlock a quest at Kirkwall’s Docks, ‘Ten Shades of Graywater,’ in which the Inquisitor will receive a mysterious anonymous letter inviting them to the coast to discuss a purveyor/supplier contract for the Inquisition. The Inquisitor will arrive in a seemingly abandoned alley, but is ambushed by Coterie thugs. After the enemies are slain, Revka can be engaged in conversation.

If Varric is in the party, he will be surprised to see Revka. It’s revealed that they know each other through various business ventures, and are old acquaintances… although the weighted, bitter quality of Revka’s answers imply that their relationship is more complicated than Varric had said.

Upon further questioning, Revka pitches her business proposal: wholesale lyrium for the Inquisition’s mages or Templars, with access to the Cadash Family’s network of spies, businesses, and Carta members for Inquisition purposes. Her only condition is that her family obtains an industry monopoly, becoming the sole provider of lyrium for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.

Revka can be found near the archery targets and training dummies in Haven. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, Revka spends time training in the courtyard, in Skyhold’s main hall talking to Varric, or in the rookery, spoiling her messenger crow, Cipher, with treats. Dialogue options will reveal that she uses the bird keep in contact with her family and business associates.

 Approval and Romance

Revka can be romanced by a male Inquisitor of any race, and will jokingly comment on the height differences if romanced by a qunari, elf, or human. A Cadash inquisitor of either gender can unlock Carta-specific dialogue. Revka is guarded at first, giving out only generic information about her family, but with some persistent questioning the Inquisitor can wear her down. Depending on dialogue choices, the conversation can end with the Cadashes exchanging stories of ‘colorful’ family members and an approval gain.

   Revka takes a more pragmatic view on politics: she supports whoever pays the most, and sells lyrium to both the Templars and mages without discrimination. Upon learning the truth behind the events Redcliffe, however, she is dismayed to learn what her products enabled. Traveling to Redcliffe with Revka in the party will trigger her personal quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes.’ (this quest will trigger after the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold if the player sided with the Templars)

Revka approves of Inquisitors who are tenacious, calculating/far-sighted, and does what is best for the majority. She believes that the end justifies the mean, sanctioning death only as a last resort. She approves of bold plans, investigating all aspects of a quest before making a decision, and an Inquisitor who makes jokes (especially puns). Her sense of justice changes as the player completes more of her personal quests. She will approve of charitable acts and kindness as the game progresses and her personal beliefs change.

Revka’s romance can be initiated through the conventional method flirting and conversation. During the quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes,’ the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, leading to a kiss.

If Revka is not romanced by an Inquisitor, she can enter a relationship with Varric Tethras, but only if the Inquisitor assists in reconciling the two ex-lovers. Revka’s romantic past with Varric is hinted at in party banter if both are present, the two bickering with each other. This series of quests are available post-arrival at Skyhold, and has conditional dialogue for certain scenarios.

Revka gets along well with Dorian and Cassandra, bonding with them over their mutual love of books. It’s revealed that the three of them have an unofficial ‘book club’ going on, where they read various novels and comment on them in party banter. Revka also gets along well with Sera, bonding over pulling pranks in Haven and Skyhold. She makes a special bond with Leliana over nugs, owning a nug, herself.

Revka does not trust Solas from the moment she meets him, stating he knows too much, and is fond of talking without saying anything. She also suspects Blackwall of hiding something.

Companion Quests

Scales Fall from Her Eyes

After the events of Redcliffe, the Inquisitor will receive a note from Revka to meet her at the abandoned cabin outside Haven. Or, if the player sided with the Templars, this will trigger once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold. At the meeting, she will share her guilt and horror at what occurred. She questions her personal beliefs, and offers an apology with the promise to amend her family’s business practices. After this quest, Revka is more empathetic, approving of selfless and charitable acts, whereas before she’d disapprove.

At the end of the quest, the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, which can lead to a kiss, if desired.

Varric’s Quest in Valammar

Revka can be found beside the fireplace in the main hall, arguing with Varric over the contents of a particular letter. Upon investigation, the Inquisitor learns that Revka has broken into the locked box in which Varric keeps his correspondence, which she claims he’s done to her on multiple occasions over the years. He neither denies nor confirms the accusation. Revka demands to know why Varric is still in contact with ‘that woman,’ declares she won’t set foot in the main hall until his ‘guest’ is gone, and leaves, demanding the Inquisitor ‘talk some sodding sense into him.’

This leads into Varric’s quests with Bianca Davri, and some cutting comments from Bianca calling Revka a ‘sore loser.’ Varric comes to Revka’s defense, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

If the Inquisitor takes Revka to Valammar, she disapproves and will grouse all the way there, cutting snide remarks whenever Varric says something. She becomes jealous during Bianca and Varric’s reminiscing, interjecting and muttering. Her anger only grows as the quest proceeds, Revka calling out Bianca for her selfish, pragmatic methods and carelessness. Once Inquisitor concludes the quest, Revka declares she needs some air, and says she’ll meet the Inquisitor at the nearest inquisition camp later.

Upon arrival at the campsite, a scout reports that Revka never returned to camp. The Inquisitor must search the nearby area; eventually, they find Revka injured after being ambushed by bandits (the Inquisitor and the party must defeat them in order for the quest to proceed).

If Varric is present, he will be upset, demanding to know why she would be so foolish as to wander around alone. Revka half-jokes, claiming how surprised she is that Varric cares about her safety, after all these years. Varric’s expression visibly shifts. The Inquisitor arranges for her immediate medical care, but it’s too serious a wound for her to remain out in the field. After this point, Revka is unavailable as a companion until after the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold.

Once the Inquisitor returns, they will find Varric in the central courtyard, pacing outside the infirmary/medical tents. The medic will inform the Inquisitor that Varric hasn’t left since Revka’s arrival, but refuses to go inside to see her. Selecting Varric for a conversation will show he can’t bear to face her after what happened at Valammar; he feels especially guilty, knowing that she got hurt in an attempt to calm down after the encounter. The Inquisitor can remind Varric that his apology should be to Revka, not them. To trigger their romance, the Inquisitor can encourage him to visit Revka and share his feelings.

If the Inquisitor visits her instead, they will gain high approval with her, and further unlock romance scenes. After the visit in the tent, Revka will invite the Inquisitor to her quarters to personally ‘thank’ him. The Inquisitor can choose to accept her proposition, or refuse. Depending on choice, Revka may sleep with the Inquisitor. There is an option to break relations off with Revka the morning after.

 Revka’s Family

Revka’s war table missions mostly revolve around business opportunities she’s scouted out for the Inquisition throughout Thedas. Some of these are triggered through conversations with Revka in the rookery or throughout Skyhold. Completing quests from her cousin Jon in Tevinter will reveal Venatori camps on all game-maps, and will reduce the cooldown time on war table quests dealing with Venatori in general.

Revka’s cousin, Czibor, can be encountered in the Hissing Wastes hunting Venatori. Accompanying xem in eliminating a Venatori camp can lead to xir recruitment as an Inquisition agent.

The Trouble with Tavi

After the quest Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Revka will ask to meet the Inquisitor, requesting their assistance in a matter of life or death. She reveals that she’s received a letter from the Orlesian Carta, stating their displeasure at the Inquisitor’s choice of ruler, since they’re encroaching on the Orlesian Carta’s operations. They know Revka and the Cadash family has been helping the Inquisition, and threaten to exact revenge. She’d thought it an empty threat until her brother Tavi stopped replying to her letters. Upon investigation, it’s revealed that the Orlesian Carta kidnapped Tavi and have hid him at their base in Val Royeaux. Revka asks the Inquisitor for assistance.

Should the Inquisitor refuse Revka, she will greatly disapprove, stating that her brother’s more important that the Inquisitor’s ‘sodding principles,’ and leave the Inquisition to save him. She will not be available again until later in the game (post Adamant), when a war table mission will appear from Tavi in Ostwick, stating that Revka saved him and has returned to Kirkwall. She is still very offended, and is considering terminating the Cadash business contracts with the Inquisition. He urges the Inquisitor to please make her reconsider, citing the monetary gain the contracts net him but also Revka’s hurt (note: the letter will also reference a romanced Varric, asking the Inquisitor to enlist his help). The Inquisitor has the choice to make up with Revka and invite her back, or leave her be.  

Should the Inquisitor choose to help Revka, she will greatly approve and travel with the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux. Varric—regardless of the romance status—will also express interest in coming, but bringing him along is not required. Revka will be touched by his offer, regardless.

The meeting place mentioned in the Carta’s letter is an abandoned oil warehouse at the docks. Inside, the companions note the derelict condition of the place. The further they travel into the warehouse, following a trail of blood, the smell of rancid oil grows stronger. In a storeroom, there is a lone dead dwarf bearing a note, a man Revka recognizes as Tavi’s second in command in Ostwick. If the Inquisitor can find Tavi before time runs out, the note says, they’re welcome to him. As the Inquisitor reads the note aloud, a shadow darts in the periphery; the door slams shut, locking them in. A torch is thrown in through a window, setting the spilled oil on fire.

The Inquisitor may, through a series of dialogue choices, decide to rescue Tavi or leave him to his fate, opting to escape. If the Inquisitor chooses to escape and leave Tavi behind, Revka will greatly disapprove, running off to find him herself. If she is romanced by Varric, he will also greatly disapprove, stating that they should go after Revka. If the Inquisitor chooses this route, they can still save Revka and Tavi. Otherwise, the two Cadashes are not seen again, supposedly perishing in the fire. Revka will then be unavailable as a companion for the remainder of the game.  

The mission to save Tavi is time-sensitive, with several endings: should the Inquisitor take too long to escape or find Tavi, the warehouse will collapse on them, killing everyone. The timer, separated into quarters, is marked by sections of the roof collapsing: escaping by the third collapse will guarantee the party’s safety. Escaping post-third collapse can result in a 50% chance of the roof collapsing on the party: if this occurs, Revka pushes either her love interest or her brother out of the way of a falling beam, sacrificing herself for their safety. The mission then ends with the party barely escaping in time, mourning the loss of their lover and/or friend.

Pranks

Various pranks around Skyhold and Haven are attributed to Revka via ambient dialogue and party banter. If the approval rate is high enough, Inquisitor has an opportunity to join Revka in pulling pranks around Skyhold post-Adamant. She claims that she’d like to cheer everyone up, and would like the Inquisitor’s help.

Prank 1: sneak into the kitchen and switch the sugar out for salt in a cake.

Prank 2: paint a smiley face on the back of a sleeping Solas’s head

Prank 3: Rearrange Vivienne’s furniture

Prank 4: Distract Varric so she can steal his letters and replace them with scrambled riddles

A cutscene follows, showing a crowd standing at the base of a flagpole the morning after. Revka pushes through the crowd, gasping: someone has nailed her frilly blue panties to the pole. Varric is seen leaning against a column, howling with laughter. Revka pulls a face at him and scowls, but eventually ends up laughing, too. (Note: this is inspired by the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze’)

Trespasser

If Revka left or died during the events of the game, she will not be at the Winter Palace. Otherwise, there are several outcomes as to what she’s been doing…

If she romanced Varric, she returned to Kirkwall and is his lover

If she romanced the Inquisitor, she stayed alongside him as an Inquisition agent

If she did not romance anyone, she returned to Kirkwall

There is an option to marry Revka as a romanced Inquisitor, or urge her to marry Varric. If she marries, her brother Tavi and a recruited cousin Czibor may attend the ceremony.

 Combat comments

Kills an enemy

And stay dead!

Sodding nughumper, good riddance.        

Low Health

A little help would be lovely!

Oh shit. Not good.

Atredum na satolva! Toss me a health potion,     will you?

I’m too old for this…        

Low Health (Companions)

(The Inquisitor) Inquisitor!

(The Inquisitor - if romanced) Hold on, love!

(Varric, unromanced) Varric, you don’t look so     good...

(Varric, if romanced) Oh shit, don’t you dare die on     me.  

(Sera) Can someone check on Sera, please?

(Cassandra) Cass! Wait!

(Dorian) Dorian needs help!

Location comments

(Approaching Camp) Ahhh! Home sweet tent. 

(When collecting a shard) Ooh! I wonder how much it’d fetch at market.

Storm Coast

(sighs) They ought to call this place the ‘Soggy Coast,’ or the ‘Sopping Coast.’  My socks are soaked through to my boots.

Fallow Mire

The bugs will drain you dry before the undead will. Nug-humping bastards keep biting me…

Anyone else feel eyes watching you from the shadows?

Hinterlands

(Laughs) You know, back when I was running jobs for the Carta, I would get so lost here in the Hinterlands. Good to know things haven’t changed.

Don’t go near there; bears love that place. I learned that the hard way…

(at Witchwood) Ah, the Which-Witch-is-Which-Wood. Da would warn my brother and I about this place when were children.

The Hissing Wastes

I have sand in places I never knew existed.

Why my cousin had to choose to hunt Venatori in the ass-end of nowhere is beyond me…

Emprise du Lion

(scoffs) Snow. Snow. More sodding snow. I’m up to my tits in the stuff.

We don’t get snow like this in Kirkwall.

(on seeing a snowfleur) Ooh, look! Fluffy nugs! Can I take one home? Lucky could use a friend.

Emerald Graves

I…I heard the reason why this place is called the Emerald Graves. Such a tragic story.

I didn’t expect such greenery this far south, to be honest.

Exalted Plains

(shivers) You can feel the sorrow in this place.

 Companion Comments

Blackwall: “Rev? She’s a bit… unnerving, to be honest. Never smiles, glares holes in the side of your head. Offered to sell my carvings in Denerim, though: two sovereigns apiece. I swear she could sell water to a fish, that woman…”

Varric: “(Laughs) Hawkeye and I go way back. Don’t let her innocent face fool you: she’ll bleed you dry at Wicked Grace if you let her. Learned some of my best tricks from her—Don’t…erm. Don’t tell her that.”

OR

“Do you know how Hawkeye got her name? She shot a fly from across a room, once. Still don’t know how she did it.”

(If Inquisitor romanced Revka) Hawkeye’s a sweet girl, under all the Carta bullshit. I’m glad she has you; she deserves some happiness in her life.”

(If romances Revka): “I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure, but I get all the best discounts at Graywater Imports, now. You want anything? I think they’re running a sale on Antivan leather, at the moment.”

OR

“She’s probably upstairs feeding Cipher, knowing her. Or taking another order for Dagna; buys crafting supplies like candy, that one.”

Sera: “Rev’s fun, not all stuffy just ‘cause she’s someone back home, yeah? Takes jokes well. Can’t shoot for shit, though…”

Cole: Ash, steel, gray, withering inside at the sight of him smiling at her. Don’t look back, you’re not going that way; old coals don’t rekindle. It bleeds under her armor, but she can’t bandage the wound. I want to help. (if she romances Varric) but he helped her feel whole again. (if she romances the Inquisitor) but you helped her feel whole again.

Solas: “Is it wise to allow a known member of the Carta in our ranks? She actively seeks information and passes it along to her superiors.”

OR

“Do tell Mistress Cadash that if she breaks into my desk one more time, I shall ward the drawers to set her on fire. I can tolerate harmless pranks, but one thing I cannot abide is liars who snoop.”

Iron Bull: “They say still waters run deep, and she’s no exception. She might appear all laughs and smiles, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dorian: “Ah, my darling Rev: she has excellent taste in literature and baked goods.” (if she romances Varric) “And dwarven merchant princes.”

Cassandra: “I doubted her intentions, at first, but she has proven herself quite useful to the Inquisition. If you see her, tell her to return my book, will you? She ‘borrowed’ a week ago, and I want to know what happens to the poor Guard Captain.”

Vivienne: “Mistress Cadash would do quite well at court; she understands the Game surprisingly well for one who’s not a courtier. Too strong from the onset, however: the idea is to gain a person’s trust, not frighten them into submission.”

Cullen: “I knew Mistress Cadash back in Kirkwall; I’d frequent Graywater Imports often. They carry three kinds of hair pomade there, did you know?”

Josephine: “Mistress Cadash has many useful connections throughout Thedas; I’m pleased she offers them to us so freely. But then, we’re making her a rich woman with all the business contracts. Quid pro quo, as the Tevinters say.”

Leliana: “Rev is a shrewd woman, fierce and good at her craft. Did you know that she has a pet nug in Kirkwall? She always has something for the birds when she comes here; I like her.”

 Trivia

It’s said that the young Varric Tethras wrote his  first novel, The Dasher’s Men, about Edric Cadash, Revka’s cousin. The femme fatale who assists the hero of the tale, Revka, is heavily inspired by Varric’s lover at the time, Revka Cadash. An autographed copy of The Dasher’s Men can be found in the rookery, where Revka sits.  

Revka adores cookies, and has been trying to get the secret brandy snap recipe off of her cousin, Edric, for years. She has tried everything  from recipe book publisher scams to impersonating the Viscount of Kirkwall’s chef to obtain the recipe

In party banter, Revka will mention her nug, Lucky, which, according to the short story, she won  during a rather raucous evening of Wicked Grace.

When Revka isn’t reading, answering correspondence, or training, she enjoys baking, sewing, and embroidery.

Despite being an adept businesswoman, Revka is terrible at bookkeeping, and will often complain about it to Varric… sometimes enlisting him to do it, with a bribe of cookies.

[pretchatta]

swoon june day 9: fairy tales

loosely based on the greek myth of orpheus and eurydice

rating: general (warning for character death); kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 3.5k words

---

There once lived a man who was blessed by the gods, and his name was Kanan.

Kanan was one of the Kasminauts, the fabled heroes who travelled with Janus to retrieve the Golden Flight. His skill with a blade was considerable and helped the group out of many a tight corner over the course of their quest, but it was his silver tongue that proved to be his most valuable asset.

Kanan’s divine gift had been bestowed upon him by Depa, goddess of the spoken word, and his was the gift of storytelling. When Kanan began a tale, all would stop in their tracks to listen. Men would pause in their work; beasts of the forest both great and timid would emerge from their dens; even the trees would inch closer to hear him. It was his way with words that allowed the Kasminauts to pass the Golden Flight’s devaronian guard, Jondo, as well as surmount countless other obstacles on their journey.

When their quest came to an end and the heroes returned home, Kanan decided to settle down. He found a cottage at the edge of a forest and he made it his home. Now this forest was not an ordinary forest, for it was inhabited by a clan of twi’lek nymphs, and it was during a walk along the forest’s border that Kanan’s ears caught the sound of the loveliest voice he’d ever heard. Enraptured, he sought out its source, and that was how he met Hera.

Hera was the daughter of Cham, the leader of the forest twi’lek. Her beauty and grace were indescribable, and Kanan fell in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her. From that day he would come to the forest every morning to tell Hera one of his many magical tales, hoping to win her affections. What he didn’t know was that Hera already returned his feelings; she had heard of Kanan and his silver tongue, but wanted to see how far he would go for her.

The first tale he told was of an ancient order of noble warriors. His words painted pictures of elegant figures in flowing robes protecting the weak and caring for the needy. In his attempt to impress Hera he made it his best performance to date. So inspiring were his words that the forest itself felt inclined to grow. The trees pushed their roots further than they’d expanded in years and new saplings shot up in every direction, increasing the area the forest protected.

Kanan’s second tale was a tragedy, one of betrayal and loss and hardship. He made this one even better than his last, delving into his deepest reserves of emotion as he told it. So moving were his words that the ground itself wept. A new stream sprang from the forest floor, feeding the forest’s new growth, and the trees grew lusher than ever.

His third tale was of new beginnings, describing friendships forged and purpose found. His voice soared with his most powerful story yet and carried through the whole forest, uplifting every beast and being who heard it. That night there was much celebrating, with everyone who lived in those woods rejoicing in the life they had and the ones they shared it with, and by the following morning the forest’s population was inexplicably larger.

Hera, seeing her home revitalised and strengthened by Kanan’s tales, held no doubts in her mind of his devotion. She revealed her heart to him and they were married in a beautiful ceremony by the stream. The wedding was well-attended, with music and dancing from her people, drinking and laughter from the Kasminauts, and a special performance from Chopper, a bird that Hera had once nursed to health and who had stayed with her ever since. Kanan and Hera moved into the cottage at the edge of the forest, and they were blissfully happy together.

But it was not to last.

They were not the only ones who lived by the forest, and a man by the name of Azmorigan also desired Hera. His covetous feelings drove him to pursue her relentlessly, but never within sight of Kanan. One day, he waited for Hera to take her daily walk outside of the cottage and snuck up behind her. Hera, having been raised in the forest and knowing its sounds like her own heartbeat, heard Azmorigan approaching. She fled before he could touch her, but in her haste to escape, she did not watch her step. Her foot fell on the back of a ysalamiri lizard and it bit her ankle. The lizard’s lifeforce-suppressing venom seeped into her blood, and Hera fell to the ground.

Azmorigan fled, and it was evening before Kanan came to look for his wife. The man of such beautiful words was silent when he found her lifeless body. He was silent as he carried her back to the home they had shared, and the silence stretched for three days and three nights. Trees wilted, birdsong was half-hearted, and instruments would not hold their tune without Kanan’s words to lift spirits.

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, Kanan re-emerged. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn on his voyage with the Kasminauts, with his sword strapped to his hip and a small travelling bag slung over his back. He said not a word as he departed for the hills.

Kanan’s journey was a long one. He travelled out of the forest and over the hills, through fields and between mountains until he reached the sea. He took a boat and sailed over the horizon and beyond, until he found land again. He crossed arid deserts, frozen tundra and lush jungle. He saw fishing villages, market towns and cities in the clouds, but he never stopped, and he never spoke.

Eventually, he reached the cliffs at the edge of the world. There he found a cave, an opening that descended into darkness, which he entered without hesitation. The tunnel took him deep underground and far away from the land of the living. He walked, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls, until he reached a gate. Standing before the gate was a fearsome sentinel, the honourable guardian Garazeb, his eyes wide and alert.

It was now that Kanan finally broke his silence.

“I wish to pass into the Land of the Dead,” he said softly.

“That is forbidden,” Garazeb growled, his deep voice like grinding rocks. “Only the dead may pass this gate. As long as I stand guard here, no living thing shall pass me, in or out.”

Kanan thought for a moment. “Very well. Then perhaps I could make your endless watch a little less dull. For I am Kanan, a storyteller of great renown.”

Garazeb did not respond, merely fixing Kanan with a stony stare, but he was not deterred.

Kanan began his tale. For the gate guardian who saw people from all walks of life pass him on their way to the Underworld, he recounted long marches to battle, legions of feet falling in step, their thunder echoing around them. He drew his sword to emphasize his words as he described endless repetitive days of marching, camping, marching, camping, always surrounded by the same faces. Garazeb’s eyes followed the blade as he swept it from side to side in an almost hypnotic fashion, drawing the same shapes over and over. Soon, the mighty guard’s eyelids began to droop. Kanan did not end his story until Garazeb finally slumped back against the wall, slid down to the ground and let out a deep, rumbling snore.

Silent once more, Kanan stepped over the sleeping sentinel and passed through the gate. He shivered as he felt the change in the air that signified he had done what no other living mortal had done: he had walked into the Land of the Dead, the World Between Worlds, the Underworld. Only his blessing from Depa protected him from Death’s icy embrace here.

The tunnel continued onwards, filled with chill, damp air, and Kanan with it. As he walked he became aware of a distant noise, a rushing, roaring sound that grew steadily louder as he proceeded. The tunnel turned a corner and Kanan emerged into an enormous cavern through the center of which thundered a wide river.

On the near shore, where the rocks were wet with spray, a man waited with a boat. Kanan approached him and spoke once more.

“I wish to cross the River of Souls.”

The man looked at Kanan. His face was young, but his eyes were old, and his expression was as cold as the waters of the river.

“I only ferry the dead over this river, and only in one direction.”

“Has anyone living ever asked you for passage?” Kanan challenged.

The man narrowed his eyes. “No. Garazeb does not allow them to pass the gate.”

“So why would you not take me across? I have made it this far, after all.”

“This river washes away all souls who are not worthy of eternal life in the fields beyond,” said the boatman. “If you attempt to cross and are not worthy, you too will be washed away into nothingness.”

“That is a risk I am willing to take.”

“Hm.” The boatman considered Kanan. “Then you will pay me for your passage. I ferry the dead for free because they have nothing, not even their lives, but this is not the case with you. What can you offer?”

After his long journey Kanan had only the barest of essentials, but he knew that what he needed he always carried with him.

“I have no money with me, but I am known for my skill with words,” he told the boatman. “I doubt you have much cause for joy down here; if I can make you smile, will that cover my trip?”

“I suppose it will. But I cannot remember the last time I smiled, and you will not be able to change that.”

“We shall see. Before I begin my story, might I have your name?” Kanan asked.

“I am Ezra, bridger of the River of Souls,” the boatman replied.

Kanan began yet another tale. For the man who had companions every day but not a single one who would stay with him, Kanan told a tale of families, of belonging, of love. His words brought warmth into the air that was chilled by the river’s spray, and light into the cavern that was out of reach of the sun. When he reached the part of the story where the father went back for his son, the corners of the boatman’s mouth twitched upwards.

When Kanan pointed it out, the boatman grumbled. “It was barely a smile. More of a spasm. Doesn’t count. But I’ll suppose I’ll allow you over. Keep telling the story though, it’s a long crossing.”

So Kanan did; he told of the father rescuing the son, and taking him home, and wrapping the boy in blankets and reassuring him that he was safe now, that nothing bad would ever happen to him, and that he was loved. By the time they reached the other shore, the boatman was smiling widely, and a few tears had run down his smooth cheeks.

“That is your second smile,” Kanan told him, “and I will want to make the return trip.”

“Fine,” Ezra agreed, still smiling. “You have earned it.”

There was no tunnel on the other side of the river, but great, rolling fields under a black sky. A road wound between them which Kanan started down. Dimly, he could see pale figures wandering aimlessly over the land. None of them drifted close enough for him to see their forms clearly and he did not deviate from his path forward to investigate. He was close to his goal now; he could feel it.

The road crested a small hill and there before him was his destination: a towering construction of smooth black stone that glinted with a mysterious light. The Palace of Malachor.

The road to the palace entrance was not empty, however. His way forward was blocked by a young woman in full armour. In the dim half-light of the Underworld the armour’s markings were greyscale swirls of shapes and patterns. A matching helmet was tucked under one of her arms.

She caught sight of him immediately.

“You are not dead,” she accused. “You do not belong here.”

“I seek an audience in the palace,” he told her.

“And I seek justice, as I did in life. I will not let you proceed until you are dead.”

Having come so far, Kanan would not let this stop him. Not when he was so close.

“So we will duel,” he said, “and if you win, I will die. But if I beat you, you will let me pass.”

She considered him for a moment before nodding. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

She fitted the helmet over her head and unsheathed the blade at her hip. It was even blacker than the land around them, so dark it seemed to absorb light. Kanan drew his own blade, and their duel began.

The warrior was strong, and quick with her blade, and Kanan soon realised he was outmatched in skill alone. So he began to talk as their blades clashed, and for someone so young who needed so much armour, he told a story of acceptance. He described a young girl forsaken by her family, forced to strike her own path before she was ready. He saw his words have an effect as the warrior’s blows faltered.

He continued, describing the comfort and safety the girl found in the arms of people who accepted her for who she was, and who loved her unconditionally. Her parry went wide and Kanan’s blade slipped past the warrior’s guard to press against her neck. The tear that had blurred her vision fell from under her helmet to splash on his blade. She yielded, and true to her word, allowed him to pass her.

It was not far, then, to his final destination. The doors of Malachor opened to his touch and he stepped into the throne room. Before him sat Maul, Lord of the Underworld, and it was he Kanan addressed.

“O Great Lord of the Dead, I have travelled vast distances to come here before you. My wife, Hera, the light of my life, was taken from me too soon and now she walks in the fields outside this very palace. I have come before you to humbly beg for her return.”

Maul regarded Kanan with utter indifference.

“And why should I do that?”

Kanan took a deep breath and opened his mouth. He told Maul a story, the tale of his long journey to the Underworld, the lands he had crossed and the sights he had seen. He told of how he had surmounted the obstacles from the gate guard to the boatman to the warrior of the fields. He told all of this with his most magical of gifts, but Maul was a god, and unmoved.

He did, however, recognise Kanan’s voice.

“I care not for the trials of mortals before their demise, but you have done me a service in the short life you have led so far. In your love for your wife, you told stories which grew a forest and the numbers of those who live in it. Many of them have, in turn, died, and their souls have come to me. In return for this act I will grant you the chance to see your wife again.”

For the first time since finding Hera in the woods, Kanan allowed himself to feel a spark of hope.

“She is indeed in the fields outside,” Maul continued. “Go to the doors and tell one of your famous stories; she will hear your voice and will come to you. If you then walk back to the land of the living she will follow, and I will make sure none will stop you. But be warned: if you are to see her complete her journey, you cannot look at her while she is still in the Underworld. Do not turn around until you are both standing under the sun once again, or you will never see her again.”

Kanan bowed deeply in gratitude and thanked the Lord of the Underworld before departing his presence to do as he suggested.

Kanan went to stand just outside of the palace doors, and he knew exactly which story to tell: the story of his life. It was one Hera would know well, because she knew him better than he knew himself. He began his telling, and the slightest brush of wind encouraged him to start walking.

As he crossed the fields, he passed the warrior again. It was as he was telling of his childhood and of the importance of family and standing together. Her helmet was tucked back under her arm and she nodded at him respectfully, the faintest of wistful smiles at her lips. She gave no acknowledgement of anyone following him.

He reached the river and the boatman, whose face was back to its stony mask. The man did not hesitate as Kanan approached, remembering their agreement and giving Kanan passage back to the other shore. During the crossing Kanan told of the heartbreak of having everything he knew ripped away from him, and the boatman nodded along mournfully as he steered the boat. Neither when he boarded nor disembarked did Kanan feel the boat respond to anyone else’s movements.

He was telling the legends of the Kasminauts when he came up to the gate. The guardian was awake again and watched him impassively as Kanan approached, recounting his adventures with his brothers. The honour guard gave no indication that anyone was following Kanan but made no move to stop him from leaving the Underworld.

It was as Kanan started the uphill climb through the final tunnel that he reached the best part of his story. This was the part where his travels ended and he met Hera. The most beautiful, perfect woman, who healed him and loved him and gave him everything he needed. His words echoed off the tunnel walls along with the sound of a single set of footsteps.

Kanan had no idea if Hera was following him. He knew, he trusted, that if she had heard him and been able, she would have come to him in the field and would have stayed with him since. But what if she hadn’t? What if Maul had tricked him? What if the warrior had blocked her way, or the boatman had denied her passage, or the guard had closed the gate on her?

He could see the brightness of daylight just ahead of him. If he returned to the overworld now, he would never be able to return. If she wasn’t behind him, he would lose her forever.

He had to know. He could not leave without her.

And so Kanan turned, and was overjoyed to see Hera’s wraith-like spirit only a short distance behind him. But her expression turned to dismay as he looked, and even as he opened his mouth in reassurance, a shadow fell over her.

Maul.

“I warned you not to look,” he spat, face twisted in anger, “and what have you done? Now, you will look no more!”

There was a flash of red, a blinding pain, and Kanan felt himself flung backwards and out of the tunnel. He landed on soft grass and felt the warmth of the sun on his face, though no light came through his eyes. He knew he was back in the mortal realm. He knew he could not return to the Underworld. He knew he had shattered his chance to retrieve Hera.

He cried out in pain and frustration and grief.

But then warm arms gripped him and pulled him into a solid embrace, and a voice spoke in his ear.

“Kanan?”

The most beautiful voice.

“Hera?”

He reached up to where the voice had come from, and his fingers traced an achingly familiar face. Tears tracked down her cheeks, but she was here, with him, alive again.

“Oh, Kanan, your eyes!” she cried. “He has ruined your eyes! How will you see?”

But Kanan smiled.

“I do not need my eyes to see you,” he told her.

And so they returned to their cottage at the edge of the forest, and to their happy life together. Though he was blind, Kanan could still tell his stories, and Hera still loved him deeply. The tale of how Kanan’s love for his wife had driven him to retrieve her from the depths of the Underworld was one he told to many generations of twi’lek in the forest, and it was even more popular than the legends of the Kasminauts.

He was still telling it when, well into old age, he recognised that his time had come. This time, Kanan and Hera travelled together into Death. They greeted the gate guard, the boatman and the warrior like old friends, and hand in hand they stepped into the fields, ready to spend eternity together.