#alistair foot

[reading-plays-is-a-thing-we-do]

So back in late 2012, my wife and I auditioned for a local production of No Sex Please, We're British and were both cast. I played the old bank manager, Mr. Bromhead (I used stage makeup lol), and one of my lines referenced a play, George and Margaret, by Gerald Savory. And I did some Internet research and quickly discovered that this is a real play.

It was also around that time I decided to see how Inter-Library Loans worked, and so the very first thing I decided to see if I could find was a copy of this play. And sure enough, it was out there, they found a copy in a university library within the state.

What arrived was this old school "library edition" of the Samuel French script, published and printed in 1938 and long out of print.

Anyway, the lesson was that Inter-Library Loans are amazing and so I started using them a lot. I checked out plays consistently for three and a half years. So I read a whole lot of plays because I was able to check them out for free at the nearby public library.

I'm hoping to start doing that again.

[rosykims]

gives me such anxiety that nobody in dao so much as MENTIONS a horse let alone uses one

[iamthescalesofjustice]

bc of the games timeline/presented story not super making sense and my fun little anti-isolde conspiracies and dreamer!surana’s intermittent connection to bby alistair i have a multitude of options for interpreting exactly why eamon was poisoned but i think my favorite is to combine them bc you get, like

jowan: wow ive been out of the tower two weeks tops and multiple people have asked me to kill this guy, he really must he as bad a surana used to rant about. 

jowan: ... 

jowan: well, i dont think im much of a killer, but all that they tell me to do is go kill eamon, so what choice do i have but to listen? 

[gyrovagi]

eloy and alistair's relationship in one image

[legends-and-savages]

Tag dump

[crossdressingdeath]

Y'know, people call Goldanna a bitch but if some random guy claiming to be the half-brother I thought died along with my mother during childbirth and who as far as I knew or had any reason to assume grew up in a castle being waited on hand and foot as a noble if not a prince showed up at my house where I was scraping a living as a washerwoman for me and my children and expected me to be happy to see him just because his dad fucked my mom (and in the process caused her death) I'd start throwing things at his head, so I think all in all she's being extraordinarily reasonable. I can understand Alistair being upset that she wasn't happy to see him but she doesn't know him and (supposedly) sharing genes doesn't mean she owes him love or even attention.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 4

A/N: I'd say I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I feel like no one actually wants to hear that. We've got a little bit of everything! Cassian getting his ass handed to him. Nessian banter. Mama A being the worst. And SMUT! Anyways, hope everyone enjoys

Additional note: I'm really sorry to everyone on my tag list. Tumblr won't let me tag any accounts for some reason. It won't let me select when I paste it in and it keeps saying "no blogs found" when I try typing manually which I know is a damn lie 😭

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian watches as Nesta works through the combination, fists hitting against Cresseida’s raised palms. Her hair is tied back in a braid that runs down her back, the strands swishing across her shoulder blades with each movement and glinting beneath the rays of the afternoon sun. She’s been at it for a while, pink coloring the apples of her cheeks and stretching down her throat to her collarbones, and even from where he’s standing, Cassian can see the beads of sweat speckled across her skin.

Before he can stop them, his thoughts start to spiral down and down. He still remembers the last time he saw that sheen along her skin. Still remembers exactly how far down that flush can go. His body still too keyed-up after sleeping beside her the night before. He has to tilt his head up toward the sky with a sigh, determined to cool the heat sparking and simmering in his veins.

When Cassian focuses his attention back down, Nesta and Cresseida have moved on to sword practice. Wooden sword in hand, Nesta moves first slowly then with more speed through the steps Cresseida directs. Cassian keeps waiting for Cresseida to correct Nesta’s stance, but after the fourth repetition, he can’t take it any longer, striding across the training rings.

“Watch your foot.”

Nesta sighs at the sound of his voice, dropping her wooden sword to her side and turning to him with an unimpressed expression. “What?”

“Your foot. You’re turning it inward each time you lunge,” Cassian explains, gesturing down toward the foot in question. “You’ll lose strength and control doing that.”

Nesta glances down to her own feet, and Cassian wonders briefly if she intends to ignore the advice out of pure stubbornness, out of pure, witchy spite. Another way for her to pull one over on him while they’re trapped in this blazing wildfire burning around them, between them. But instead, surprisingly, Nesta readjusts her stance, shifting her foot so it faces forward.

“Thanks,” Nesta mutters, raising her sword again to work through the same sequence. “Did you need something else then?”

“Just trying to help, sweetheart.”

“And yet, I don’t recall ever asking for it.”

“Cassian!”

Cassian turns at the call of his name, finding Baz just outside the training rings. For once, there’s no smile on his third’s face, his brown eyes missing their usual, playful spark. It has cold dread flooding through Cassian’s limbs, crystalizing between his ribs until the weight twists and presses in. He breathes through the churning in his gut, but his muscles feel tense, his lips pressed into a grim line by the time Baz reaches him.

“What’s happened?” Cassian demands, skipping right past pleasantries.

“Alistair and Cormac have returned,” Baz explains.

Cassian sighs softly, squinting back toward the village and the rows of cabins, his mind reeling over this news. There’s no denying the relief that floods through him, the way it soothes the fear that always sparks within him every time they send out scouts. But what did they see? What information are they bringing back? It’s a stark reminder of the storm clouds looming just over the horizon, of the thunder shaking the ground beneath Cassian’s feet, beneath the pack’s security.

Nodding to himself, Cassian turns his attention back to Baz. “Gather the elders. We’ll meet immediately.”

“Already on it.”

Baz turns on his heels, jogging away, and Cassian watches him go before making his way toward the meeting hall with another sigh. Anxiety prickles across his skin at what they’ll learn, what will be discussed. He makes it a few steps outside of the training rings when the sound of a second set of footsteps reaches his ears, Cassian stopping short. He turns to find Nesta walking beside him, her brows furrowing at their sudden halt.

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks, gesturing back toward the training rings. “Go back to training with Cresseida.”

“It sounds like there’s important news, clearly an important meeting,” Nesta offers, peering up at him as if it’s obvious.

“And?”

“And? And I’m joining you.”

Cassian scoffs, crossing his arms. “You’re not attending this meeting.”

“What,” Nesta snaps dryly, her tone low and incredulous. “Why not?”

“I’m not having a witch in the room when we discuss pack business.”

Cassian is certain that the glare Nesta settles him with would cut down a lesser man where he stands. The blue of her eyes is pure ice, a fire burning in them and promising to swallow him whole in a blazing storm. She steps closer to him, her chest brushing against his own with every annoyed, heaving breath, lip pulled back in a sneer.

“I am your wife,” Nesta reminds him, words cold and clipped.

Cassian leans down until they’re eye to eye, offering a glare of his own. “I didn’t choose you.”

This close together, Cassian catches it, the way her mask slips for just a moment. He almost thinks he imagined it, that flash of emotion in her eyes, before the fury returns. He doesn't dare look down, look away from her gaze, but he can feel the sparks of silver flames prickling across his skin where their hands hang a hairsbreadth apart. He resets his stance, shifting his feet and preparing for the impact of her magic.

“You’re a godsdamned bastard,” Nesta seethes.

She doesn’t say anything else, surprisingly keeping a leash on her magic and her rage. Instead, she turns on her heel, stalking back toward Cresseida on the other side of the training rings. Cresseida meets Cassian’s gaze briefly, shaking her head, before holding out the wooden sword for Nesta to take again. But Cassian doesn’t have time for disappointment or other’s opinions on what he should or shouldn’t do.

On how he should or shouldn’t run his pack.

He winds his way through the village until he reaches the meeting hall. Baz and Emerie are already standing outside, and he offers them both a nod in greeting.

“Are all the elders gathered?”

“Everyone’s gathered and ready, yeah,” Baz explains, glancing behind him to the open doorway.

“Where's Nesta?” Emerie asks, looking pointedly over Cassian’s shoulder as though she expects the witch to appear.

“Hell if I know,” Cassian shrugs, moving to step forward into the meeting hall but Emerie is quick to step directly into his path, blocking him. He rolls his eyes. “Last I left her, she was at the training rings with Cresseida.”

“Should we wait for her before we start, then? One of us can go grab her,” Baz offers.

Cassian lets out a derisive snort. “Why would we wait for her? She’s not attending a pack meeting.”

The cold look Emerie settles him with rivals Nesta’s. “She’s your wife.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Did everyone forget that I didn’t choose her?”

“Did you forget that she didn’t choose this either?” Emerie demands, smacking him hard in the chest. “You were there. Her mother practically sold her and her sisters like cattle. I thought I already told your dumbass you need to respect her.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Cassian growls, side stepping around Emerie and into the meeting hall. “Let’s go.”

“Fucking idiot…”

~ * * * ~

The sigh that tumbles past Cassian’s lips is heavy, icy claws sinking into his lungs and drawing blood with the exhale. He digs his fingers through his hair, the strands already starting to knot with how many times he’s repeated the gesture. The map continues to lay splayed out across the wood of the table in front of him, and all he can do is stare at it, blink at it.

“We’ll have to inform the vamps and the Vanserras,” Baz’s voice draws Cassian from his quickly spiraling thoughts. “We can’t keep this information to ourselves.”

“A temple,” Emerie whispers, almost to herself. “What kind of evil do you have to be to attack and destroy a temple?”

“If Cormac is right, they got whatever they were looking for,” Cassian comments, leaning forward over the map and sliding his finger along the parchment, along the ink of the lines, the trees and the mountains. “Hybern’s even more dangerous now, and we need to be ready. We need to up our defenses along the western lines, make sure our warning system gives us as much time as possible.”

“You really think Hybern would try something? Attack the pack directly?” Baz asks, a hollowness taking over his usual sunny expression.

“Mother knows what Hybern is thinking or planning,” Cassian says, pushing back up to his feet. “But I’m not willing to risk it. Not willing to risk our pack.”

Emerie nods in agreement, the weight of what Cormac and Alistair described finding at the temple clearly still pressing on her even as she defiantly holds her chin up high. “I’ll make sure the new orders are delivered and implemented.”

“Tomorrow,” Cassian offers, giving Emerie’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll worry about implementing everything tomorrow. I think we all could use a night off after that.”

“And maybe a drink,” Baz mutters, the barest hint of a smile starting to return.

Cassian chuckles softly, unable to deny the idea sounds appealing. He has a bottle of whiskey back at his cabin that’s smooth and aged, and it might just be calling his name. “And maybe that too.”

Cassian rolls up the map and returns it the rightful place, following his second and third out the door the elders vacated what feels like hours ago. True to his teasing words, Baz heads for the pack’s favorite watering hole, Emerie vanishing toward her cabin to find her wife. It leaves Cassian to make the trek back to his own cabin alone.

The meeting lasted for hours, darkness having now blanketed across the village. The clouds shimmer and shift across the face of the moon, the silver light rippling like waves across the grass where it bleeds through, casting shadows over the trees and cabins. He just hopes it means that Nesta may have already retired for the night. The last thing he wants after that meeting is to rehash an argument with her.

He’s already dreaming of a tall glass of whiskey, of settling before the fire and relaxing at least for one night, as he makes his way up the steps to his cabin. He reaches forward for the handle of the front door, but a shock jolts through his fingertips, skittering up his arm and through his entire body. His eyebrows pinch, and he shakes out the pins and needles before trying again, only to earn the same reaction, his every muscle tensing in response.

“What the fuck…”

Cassian raises his hand, carefully, slowly, pressing his palm forward. The magic glimmers around his touch, spreading outward in silver swirls that Cassian suspects must be some sort of runes. They stretch all the way up and around the cabin like a shield.

A ward.

She’s put a ward around the cabin, locking him out.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nesta?” Cassian shouts, loud enough she can hear him from wherever she is inside. “Let me in!”

Only silence answers Cassian, mocks him.

“Nesta, I know you can hear me! This isn’t fucking funny.”

Cassian growls in frustration when there’s still no response. He slams a fist against the ward, but the magic seems to give back whatever impact thrown at it, silver flaring around him and the force sending him stumbling back a few steps. He scrubs a hand through his hair and down his face, sending a silent prayer up to the Mother. He doesn’t know how long his stubborn witch of a wife intends to let him stew, but it’s clear that it’s going to be a long night.

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta tugs on the strands of her hair, shifting them until they sit how she wants. She holds them steady in place, plucking the pin from between her teeth and sliding it between the strands. Examining her work in the mirror, she hums quietly in approval, finally stepping back and toward the door. She winds her way through the cabin and to the front door, but her steps stop short when she pulls it open.

Cassian is curled up on his side, his back to the door. One arm is tucked up beneath his head, cheek pillowed on his bicep, and his hair is a tangled mess all around his face. For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but gape, nothing but blink in surprise at the sight of him here in front of the door. When she’d warded the cabin last night, she assumed that he’d find somewhere else to sleep, perhaps crash with Baz wherever the third’s cabin is.

Guilt begins to spool in Nesta’s gut, but then she remembers everything that happened yesterday. She remembers how Cassian seems set on locking her out of everything involving this pack. As if being isolated from her family through this farce of a marriage wasn’t bad enough, she’s stuck being just as isolated here thanks to her dear husband. As if Hybern and its king aren’t as much of a threat to her as they are to Cassian and the pack.

All of the anger and rage from yesterday blazes back through Nesta’s veins like a wildfire, and she raises her chin, stepping right over Cassian’s still sleeping form. Hopefully, now, the alpha has learned his lesson. He wants to play games and shut her out of everything, then he can enjoy sleeping outside in the cold and being shut out of his own cabin.

“Nesta.”

Nesta sighs, pausing just two steps down from the cabin. She turns around just in time to watch Cassian scramble up to his feet. Despite not being in his wolf form, his eyes still glow golden, furious in the way they spark and blaze. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, brows pinched down low as he glares at her.

Nesta raises a sardonic brow, not giving him an inch with her cool expression. “Sleep well? Who knew you took your inner wolf so seriously that you take to sleeping outside now.”

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Cassian growls, fists clenching at his sides.

“I don’t know. Did you think yesterday was a fucking joke?”

Cassian scoffs, but Nesta has heard enough. She spins on her heel and continues down the steps that lead away from the cabin and back toward the village.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Emerie is waiting for me with a carriage,” Nesta explains, not stopping or turning around. “I don’t want to be late for tea with my sisters.”

She can feel Cassian’s ire following her the whole way, burning a brand into her spine. The low sound of his growl practically echoes in her ears. It has a self-satisfied smirk tugging up Nesta’s lips the whole rest of the way, and if Emerie notices her expression, she thankfully doesn’t comment on it as Nesta climbs inside the carriage, as it carries them away from the village.

It feels almost strange to be back at the Archeron manor, to peer up at the dark red brick, the spires, and the climbing ivy through the carriage window. Almost subconsciously, her thumb slides across the slightly raised skin on the back of her left hand, tracing the scar back and forth. A deep breath in and out, and Nesta opens the carriage door, stepping out and into the misty morning light.

She walks up the front steps, the front door swinging open right before she reaches it. At least, the magic imbued within the wood and brick of the house still recognizes her. Nesta steps inside, instantly greeted by the familiar smells of fresh lavender, ginger, and basil, and follows the halls all the way to the sunroom at the back of the manor.

The round table in the room is already covered in a white, lace tablecloth, a steaming teapot placed at the center. Elinor sits primly in the seat directly across from the doorway back into the main house, hair neatly and harshly tugged back away from her face and chin raised high. As soon as Nesta steps inside, her mother’s cool eyes are pinning her in place.

“Mama,” Nesta greets quietly.

Feyre is already settled in the seat directly to Elinor’s right, so Nesta takes the seat across from their mother. She chances a glance toward her youngest sister, but Feyre has her eyes cast downward, staring intently at her plate. Nesta doesn’t miss the way Feyre chews on her bottom lip, the way she aimlessly pushes around her eggs, even as her grip on her fork is white knuckled.

Giving her hands something to do, Nesta reaches forward for the teapot, pouring herself a cup. Thankfully, just as she’s taking a sip, Elain steps inside the sunroom, brown eyes wide and almost nervous as they flit around the table. She’s quick to settle into the final seat beside Nesta, fingers twisting and fisting into the skirts of her dress.

“My girls,” Elinor begins, taking the time to look at all three of them. “Back together again. Have you all been well?”

Feyre’s eyes flash up at the question, but Nesta is quick to jump in. “I’m sure we’re all still adjusting, Mama.”

Elinor hums, Nesta’s fingers twitching and tensing in response to the disapproving sound. She has to shake the urge to trace that scar on the back of her hand again, that sound and what typically followed it still haunting and prickling in the back of Nesta’s mind.

“And what have we learned, hm?” Elinor continues, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “The rumors say that Rhysand’s numbers are beyond what we’ve been led to believe. Is it true? Are there more vampires than we know?”

“How would I know that, Mama?” Feyre sighs softly.

“You’re his wife now, are you not? And what about the wolves?” Elinor asks, her attention snapping to Nesta. “There’s long been stories of their training, of their strength.”

“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with the pack,” Nesta explains, trying to hold her mother’s gaze but dropping her eyes to the dark swirls of her tea.

“And how about the Vanserras? And their coven’s spellbook?”

“I… I haven’t seen any spellbook, Mama,” Elain murmurs, her voice quiet.

Elinor sighs, and Nesta tries to brace for whatever is coming. “I give you girls everything that you need, set you and this family up, and this is what you offer me?”

“Mama…” Nesta starts, prepared to place herself in front of her sisters and in the line of fire with their mother if need be.

“You all have to be better. You’re Archeron women for the Mother’s sake.”

“Are we? Since you married us off,” Feyre mutters under her breath, but not quiet enough that their mother doesn’t hear.

“You insolent child,” Elinor seethes, turning her ire on her youngest daughter. “I am making you all stronger, ensuring you can take your birthright. And you’re ungrateful?” She takes a calming breath, smoothing out the lines of her skirts. “I expect you all to be better than this moving forward. At least I see you haven’t allowed the vampire bite, nor the wolf mating bite. That’s good. Elain?”

Elain’s grip on her skirts is near white-knuckled beneath the table, pink beginning to spill through her cheeks. With each second of silence that stretches around them, Nesta frowns in confusion, trying to surreptitiously reach toward her sister in comfort without their mother noticing.

“Elain,” Elinor repeats, her voice clipped.

Another tense moment passes, but then Elain slowly lifts her hands, placing them palm up on the table. The pink line across her left palm is unmistakable, still slightly puckered and not fully healed. A bonding spell, a witch’s equivalent of tying two souls together through blood and magic.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Elain whispers, wincing when Elinor’s fingers curl around her wrist in a tight grip. “It was Eris. He insisted that Lucien and I do it.”

The response has Nesta even more confused. Elain has never been a particularly good liar, neither when they were girls and she was stealing cookies and sweets from the kitchen nor when they were teens and she was sneaking out to meet Graysen Nolan in town. And Nesta knows that Elain is lying now; although, she has no idea why.

“What were you thinking, Elain? This type of stupidity is beneath you.”

“Please, Mama. You’re hurting me.”

“Do you have any idea what this means? What you’ve done? You’re an Archeron, dammit, not some Vanserra’s tramp. Marriage or not, I will not have you tarnishing this family’s name.”

Elinor releases Elain’s wrist, crescent shaped indentations embedded in the skin from her nails. Elain clutches her hand back to her chest, cradling her wrist. Anger sparks and flares in Nesta’s chest in her sister’s defense. She glares across the table at their mother, but Elinor’s focus stays glued on Elain. The biting words sit heavy on the tip of Nesta’s tongue, poised and ready to fire without a second thought for the consequences, for what she knows it would mean to bring Elinor’s ire back her way.

As long as it’s off Elain and Feyre.

But before Nesta can say anything, Elinor pushes up to her feet. She looks down her nose at all three of her daughters, a cruel queen and her subjects. “Remember your place, remember what is expected of you as an Archeron, and do not fail me again.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta is quiet the entire carriage ride back to the pack’s village. She can feel Emerie’s curious gaze watching her from the seat across from her, but Nesta keeps her eyes firmly out the window. She watches the leaves and the trees shift and morph as they move past, her mother’s words, the whole morning, still playing over and over in her mind.

She’s an Archeron woman. A witch who comes from a long line of proud, powerful women. One of three sisters said to be blessed by the Mother herself. No matter that she’s a married woman now. No matter that she and Cassian may one day be amicable. No matter what the pack might one day mean to her. An Archeron is what her mother expects her to be, and Nesta will not fail her.

She will not be a failure again.

“Are you alright?” Emerie finally dares to break the quiet to ask. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” Nesta dismisses curtly. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re the alpha’s wife. You might be surprised, but that actually means something to me.”

The words take Nesta by surprise, and she turns her attention to the second, blinking a few times before remembering herself. “Thanks.”

Emerie shrugs like it’s easy, like it doesn’t mean anything, but it does to Nesta. It makes her feel like she may be less alone in the pack after all. She’s about to ask Emerie if she likes to read, to see if they may share any interests, but the carriage pulls to a stop. Emerie is quick to hop out, holding the door open for Nesta to step down as well.

“I promised Cresseida I’d relieve her from shop duty as soon as I got back,” Emerie explains, waving off the carriage. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Emerie’s gaze sweeps over Nesta, like she doesn’t quite believe the words, but she doesn’t comment or say anything else. With a nod of her head, she heads toward the market square. Left alone, Nesta takes a moment for herself. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, allowing the scent of the trees and the moss around her to fill her senses. The peace this deep into the forest licks at her wounds in a soothing way she doesn’t expect, has that magic within her settling like a beast returning home.

Home.

Is that what this place is now? Between her grandmother and her mother, the Archeron manor certainly never truly felt like a home. Nesta has never really felt like she had a home, not a true one,at least. When she was younger, she used to read stories of sweeping romances and believed that she could find one just like the women between those pages. Her mother always said they were nothing more than fairytale dreams, always chastised her when she had her nose in those books.

Maybe that was one thing Elinor was right about.

Sighing softly to herself, Nesta rolls her shoulders and starts along the winding path through the village, back toward the alpha cabin on the top of the hill. When she pushes through the front door, she’s surprised to find Cassian standing in the kitchen. He looks just as surprised to see her, but then his expression changes, morphs into rage with the way his lips pull back in a snarl, the way his hazel eyes flare and narrow.

Nesta had almost forgotten about Cassian, certainly forgotten about their previous argument and the ward she’d placed around the cabin last night. She’d been too caught up in her mother and her sisters, between the disaster that was tea this morning. But it’s clear that Cassian hasn’t, and it all comes crashing back to Nesta as she takes in the way he’s glaring at her.

It’s the perfect distraction.

“I see you got yourself back inside after all,” Nesta comments idly, turning her back on him and removing her shoes and her cloak.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What’s there to talk about? I thought it was rather fitting. Perhaps, we should build you a dog house.”

Nesta turns back around, offering her best saccharine smile, knowing it’s exactly the thing to get under his skin and fuel the fire. To draw out the pull to her push until they’re burning together and everything else fades away with those flames. But Cassian merely tilts his head, watching her in that unnerving way of his as though he can see right through her. It has Nesta’s hackles raising.

“Do you want to play, Nes?” Cassian drawls, taking slow, measured steps closer to her.

“Play? There’s no playing. You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferable? That’s weak, even for you.”

Nesta scowls up at him, daring to close that final step between them until they’re toe to toe. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. Is that the worst you’ve got? I’ve been called much worse than that, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” Nesta asks, any other cutting words dying on her tongue.

“Offended on my behalf?” Cassian fires back, reaching a hand up between them to cradle her jaw, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip.

The teasing tone has the scowl returning in an instant, Nesta smacking his hand away. “Perhaps, I want to shake the person’s hand. Exchange ideas.”

“Ideas?” Cassian continues to tease, walking Nesta back until her back hits the wall.

“Yes. Ideas I could have shared in the pack meeting yesterday.”

Any teasing drops away completely from Cassian’s expression as he rolls his eyes. “Back to that, are we? It’s my pack, remember? Did you forget who the alpha is?”

“Did you forget I’m your wife? I should have been in that meeting.”

“Oh, you want to be my wife, now? How about you be a good little wife and get on your knees and suck my cock?”

The words are crude, all but snarled in her face, but that doesn’t seem to stop the way Nesta’s body responds. She still remembers that cock all too well. Remembers the way it had felt fucking into her. Remembers the way his knot had stretched her. Remembers the delicious ache between her thighs that remained for the entire next day.

But she’ll be damned if she lets Cassian know all that.

“Fuck you,” she snarls instead, shoving at his chest, but of course his large frame in unmoving.

“You’ve certainly forgotten how good a wolf’s sense of smell is,” Cassian tells her, leaning down over her with a cocksure smirk. “You think I can’t notice the sweet scent of your arousal? Do you want to suck my cock, sweetheart?”

“It’s clear you certainly want me to.”

Nesta shifts her hand, reaching down to grip Cassian’s cock through his pants. He hisses at the contact, but she can feel how he’s already half hard, can feel the way he twitches against her palm. It’s clear he’s getting off on their back and forth just as much as she is. She rubs her hand up and down, squeezing when she reaches the head of his cock.

Cassian continues to swell beneath her ministrations, and Nesta can’t help but lick her lips. How would the weight of him on her tongue feel? How would he taste? Just the thought has her clenching her thighs, desperate for friction, for relief, beneath the skirts of her dress. There’s a hunger yawning in the space between her ribs, clawing and gnawing at her chest, and she sees that same hunger echoes in Cassian’s own burning gaze, in his darkening hazel eyes.

“The no kissing rule still applies,” Nesta tells him, pulling her hand away so she can focus on the laces of her dress. “This is just sex.”

“Just sex,” Cassian agrees, reaching a hand back to fist in his shirt, tugging it up and off.

Nesta’s dress has barely hit the floor in a crumple of fabric before Cassian is pressing fully into her space. His hands find her thighs, fingers spread wide and digging into her skin, and he hauls her up off the ground with ease. He turns on his heel, only taking a few long strides before he deposits Nesta on the kitchen table, the wood pressing against her back.

Cassian takes his time roving his eyes over her, tracing down her throat and collarbones, lingering on her heaving chest and her peaked nipples, following down her stomach and between her spread legs. He dares to reach his hand forward, shadowing that same path with two fingers. It’s a spark catching, goosebumps erupting across Nesta’s skin as she arches up against that touch.

“So pretty flushed like this,” Cassian comments idly, using those same two fingers to toy with the waistband of her undergarments. “Good enough to eat.”

Cassian gathers up his hair in his hands, tugging it away from his face and securing it with a leather band, before he slowly drops down to his knees. His fingers curl around Nesta’s ankles, calluses along his palms sliding up her calves, over her knees, up her thighs. He pries her legs further apart, leaning in until even through the fabric separating them still, Nesta can feel the ghost of his hot breath against her cunt, until he can lick a thick line over the dampness that’s already gathered there.

Cassian groans softly, giving her cunt another lick. “And oh so sweet too. Who knew just the thought of sucking my cock would have you dripping already?”

His hands slide up over her hips, and Nesta can feel the heat of them scorching her skin. She can feel the hint of claws too, teasing and drawing a shudder up her spine. Would he fuck her with those claws? What would that feel like?

The sound of tearing fabric is almost too loud, even over Nesta’s panting breaths. She snaps her attention down just in time to watch what remains of her undergarments fall away. That cocksure grin of his is out in full force, hazel eyes glinting from between her thighs. Normally, Nesta would want to wipe that smirk clean off his face, but right now, all she can think about is the sight of him on his knees before her, about the blissful release that sight promises.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines instead, trying to buck her hips up against his hold. “Please.”

“What a good girl,” Cassian praises, mouthing along Nesta’s inner thigh and drawing a soft whimper from her lips. “Now, keep those eyes on me and keep moaning my name.”

The first slide of Cassian’s tongue against her cunt has Nesta gasping, thighs squeezing instinctively around the alpha’s head. Cassian groans against her, his mouth moving to her clit and tracing slow, tortuous circles over it. Nesta tries to keep her gaze firmly on him, but it feels almost unfair. His wide shoulders bracketed between her thighs, the shorter strands of hair falling out of his updo and along his temples, and his eyes…

His eyes glow golden as though the wolf within him has decided to join as well. As though Nesta truly is the prey caught in the predator’s trap. But she’s not sure she’d rather be anywhere else.

Cassian groans again, and then he really starts to devour her. He fucks his tongue up into her, curling and flicking it along her walls. Nesta feels like she’s burning, every nerve ending blazing and focused on where Cassian’s mouth works her higher and higher. Her feet scrabble desperately for some sort of purchase, against Cassian’s shoulders, against the edge of the table.

“Cass… Cassian… fuck.”

Nesta knows that she’s babbling, knows he’s turned her into a puddle of moans and canting hips, but she can’t find it within herself to care, not with the way he plays her body so well. She slides a hand down to Cassian’s head, holding him right where he is, the other finding her own breast to pinch and tweak her nipple in time with the movements of Cassian’s tongue.

Cassian focuses his attention back on her clit, and that fire blazes hotter until it swallows Nesta whole. Her back arches up fully off the kitchen table, fingers curling tight enough in Cassian’s hair that her nails bite into his scalp. She moans loudly as her release carries her right over the edge, trailing off into a whimper when Cassian continues to lap at her still fluttering cunt until he’s had his fill.

When Cassian finally pulls back, Nesta is forced to release her grip on his hair, her hand falling back to the table with a soft knock. His lips and chin glisten, and he makes a big show of sliding his tongue around his mouth and gathering up the excess. Nesta watches from beneath hooded eyes, that heat in her blood still simmering.

She pulls herself up into a seated position, reaching for the laces of Cassian’s pants. She makes quick work of the knot, pushing the fabric down until it slips from his hips and falls to his feet. Just the sight of his cock bobbing free has her thighs clenching again, has her swallowing hard and licking her lips. She eyes the vein that runs along the underside, the already weeping head, remembering exactly it’ll feel when she sinks back onto it.

Her legs are shaky as she slips off the kitchen table, but she’s able to guide Cassian back until he’s falling into one of the kitchen chairs. She sinks down onto her knees between his spread legs, sliding her hands up over his knees and along his thighs. She drags her nails along the skin, through the coarse hair lining his strong thighs, before finally curling her fingers around his cock, squeezing the base.

“Now this is a sight I could get used to,” Cassian comments, his hips bucking up against her grip. “A good girl on her knees before her husband, ready to take his cock so well.”

Nesta wants to roll her eyes at the words, but there’s no stopping the way her body responds to the praise. She decides to focus on the task at hand, leaning in and licking at the arousal dribbling from Cassian’s cockhead. She moans softly at the salty taste blooming across her tongue, opening her mouth wider to swallow him down. She slides her tongue along the underside, relaxing her throat to take as much as she can and working what she can’t with her hand. The weight of him in her mouth is exactly as unparalleled as Nesta imagined, and she moans around his cock as she starts to bob her head.

Tears start to prickle Nesta’s eyes, but she doesn’t let it deter her, blinking and peering up at Cassian through her eyelashes. His gaze is already pinned on her, lips parted and expression nothing short of enraptured. His dirty mouth is silent now. Nesta almost wishes she could smirk around the way her mouth is stuffed full. She may be the one on her knees, but it’s the pack alpha rendered powerless.

It goes right to her head and right to her cunt.

She widens her stance and dips her free hand between her own thighs. Her fingers slip through the wetness, and she teases her clit briefly before sinking two fingers into her cunt. She tries to match the pace of her fingers with the movements of her mouth, curling her fingers every time she swirls her tongue over the head of Cassian’s cock.

“Gods, look at you,” Cassian’s voice draws her attention back to him. “Go on, sweetheart. Add a third finger. Get yourself nice and ready to take my knot.”

Nesta whines around Cassian’s cock, but she does as she’s told. She presses in a third finger, fucking her cunt hard and desperately. Heat coils low in her gut, her thighs beginning to tremble, and when she dares to press her thumb against her clit, Nesta has to finally pull back from Cassian’s cock. She drops her forehead to his thigh, letting out a high pitched cry as her walls clench around her own fingers, her release making a mess of her own hand.

But still she wants more.

She’s not sure how she manages it, but she pushes back up to her feet. She moves to straddle Cassian’s lap, to finally take what she wants, but she barely gets a single knee up onto the kitchen chair. Cassian’s hand snaps to her throat, fingers pressed hard against her thundering pulse. Her cunt echoes the squeeze of his fingers, clenching around nothing desperately.

“Nice try, Nes,” Cassian leers up at her, keeping his hold of her as he stands up. “But I’m still the one in control here.”

He tightens his grip around her throat briefly, Nesta’s breath catching with the squeeze, before releasing it entirely. He spins her around, her back pressed firmly to his front and her hips digging into the edge of the kitchen table. She can feel his cock still hard and waiting, and Cassian shifts his own hips so that it slips between her thighs, dragging teasingly through the mess of wetness there, along her clit.

Cassian presses his lips to her ear, hot breath skittering across her skin. “Beg for it.”

“Please. Fuck me, please.”

Cassian groans at her words, but still, he doesn’t give her what she wants. His hand slides down her stomach, down between her thighs. He sinks two fingers into her dripping cunt, spreading them and stretching her wide, but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. It’s nothing compared to the real stretch she knows he can give her.

“Do you want my cock, Nes?”

“Yes,” Nesta moans, tilting her hips back to grind more firmly against his cock. “And your knot. Please.”

Cassian’s teeth snag on her earlobe. “Good girl.”

Cassian pulls his fingers free, but Nesta barely has time to whine at the loss before he’s replacing them with his cock. Already, just the stretch of him has stars popping in Nesta’s vision, her cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as though desperate to draw him deeper still, to keep him right there. She feels so incredibly full, her toes curling against the hardwood of the cabin floor.

“Two orgasms already and you’re still so tight around me,” Cassian sighs, pressing between Nesta’s shoulder blades until she’s bent in half over the table. His hands find her ass, fingers digging in against the flesh. “But Mother save me, look at the way you take me so well.”

Nesta whimpers as Cassian pulls his hips back, the slow drag of his cock, but then Cassian is snapping his hips back forward. Again and again he drives into her, setting a hard and fast pace. It’s everything that Nesta needs. Every thrust that has him pressing deeper still, every slap of his hips against her ass, has Nesta keening. She claws at the kitchen table, desperate just for something to hold onto.

As that heat starts to lick up her spine again, her body coiling tighter and tighter like a bow string, Nesta reaches a hand between her hips and the table edge, fingertips trying to catch on her clit despite the jostling. A growl sounds from behind her, fingers curling around her wrist. Cassian yanks her hand away, pressing it to the table and holding it firmly there.

“You’ll come on my knot or not at all.”

It’s a threat and a promise.

Her entire body feels wrung out, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She hopes that he doesn’t stop. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she should feel embarrassed at this hunger that cloys in her gut, that flares through her chest, but she can’t find it within herself to care. She wants this. Wants him. Wants his knot.

Her throat feels hoarse with how much the male behind her has made her scream, but there’s no stopping the litany of moans that tumble past her lips. Especially when she starts to feel the swell of Cassian’s knot, feels it catching against the lips of her cunt with every forward thrust.

But he only seems to keep teasing her with it.

The next time that Cassian snaps his hips, Nesta presses her own back to meet him, forcing his knot to sink into her, to properly notch and lock them together.

“Fucking shit,” Cassian groans, dropping his head to her shoulder.

His hands grip Nesta’s hips hard enough to bruise, his cock twitching and flooding her core with warmth. The stretch of his knot, the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, is indescribable, and Nesta clenches down, milking his knot and his cock with a soft moan.

“Still want to be a good little wife, Nes?” Cassian asks, grasping her jaw and pulling her head back against his chest. “Then come all over your husband’s knot.”

His free hand slips down between her thighs, pressing hard against her clit. It’s all it takes for Nesta’s third release of the afternoon to tear through her. She all but screams Cassian’s name, her body trembling through the way his knot still presses against the walls of her cunt, the way she can still feel his cock twitching and filling her deep, the way he doesn’t relent with the rough circles he traces against her clit.

When Cassian releases his hold on her, Nesta is like a marionette with her strings cut, slumping down against the kitchen table with a soft whimper. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, tries to calm her thundering heart and come down from her high. With her cheek pressed to the table, breath puffing against the wood, Nesta allows her eyes to fall shut.

She and Cassian may never be the sort of husband and wife Nesta often dreamt of as a girl, will certainly never have the sort of love she read about in books, but at least they can have this.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[gumjester]

whether or not i would fight the following eah students

im drunk and found this in my notes from 2021. 😭 I NO LONGER STAND BY SOME OF THESE OPINIONS. but most i do. a semantic sequel to this post

Raven Queen: no. hasn't she already been through enough? also i'd definitely lose

Apple White: yes. god yes. it would be so funny

Briar Beauty: maybe while drunk, but something tells me it would be a very bad idea

Ashlynn Ella: no. god, how depressing would that be? though maybe she'd have a chance if she went at me with a stiletto

Hunter Huntsman: yes, because it would be funny to see how he would try to avoid killing me instantly

Cedar Wood: no. what's the point? it's like trying to kick the shit out of a really polite coffee table

Cerise Hood: MAYBE IF I WAS FEELING REALLY MEAN. it would be funny in a similar manner to hunter, but with the added tension of me constantly going for the hood. i know ur shit cerise. don't play w me

Blondie Lockes: i consider fighting blondie lockes one of my primary life goals. i will curbstomp that bitch in the middle of her own livestream

Sparrow Hood: 100%, mostly for public spectacle. idk if i would win but I'm sure we'd have a wonderful time. unless he has his guitar on him because he would defo play dirty and just start swinging it like a mace

Duchess Swan: no thank you. ballerinas are strong and duchess stores anger like nutrition for the winter. she would break my neck

Darling Charming: i don't think so. depending where she is on public knowledge of her secret she'd either purposefully lose or just wipe the floor with me. awkward all round

Dexter Charming: maybe, because i think if he gave it a proper go he'd win and i feel like that would be good for his self esteem

Daring Charming: yes, because i know i'd win if i straight away went for his face. bust his lip open. it would humble him

Lizzie Hearts: no ma'am. maybe i'd fare better in hand to hand combat but i can't imagine she'd keep any less than four knives on her person and lizzie is not the type to hold back. im heading straight to hospital

Kitty Cheshire: no. it would be humiliating. i can't see how i'd even get a hit in

Maddie Hatter: absolutely not. i have no qualms with her whatsoever, also she'd definitely kill me by accident

Alistair Wonderland: sure, why not. i want to see what all that time in apocalyptic wonderland has taught him, and whether it cancels out his status as a fucking nerd

Bunny Blanc: no, because i don't want to go to jail for homicide. she is a 5 foot nothing rabbit who can barely stand up by herself. she'd die if i poked her with a toothpick

Chase Redford: NO. if he didn't want to fight he'd just silently let me hit him for like an hour, and if he was About It then he'd instantly fucking annihilate me. just leave the boy alone

Courtly Jester: I KNOW I'D LOSE BUT IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING. I HAVE TO FIGHT HER. i might even have a chance if she wasn't allowed to pirate any dark magic

Humphrey Dumpty: i feel cruel for even thinking about this. he's a skinny gamer with a physical predisposition for getting hit. it would be like shooting fish in the most depressing barrel

Hopper Croakington II: NO. HE IS MY FUCKING BOY AND I'LL PROTECT HIM WITH EVERYTHING I HAVE. also i could just flirt and then stamp on the frog

Faybelle Thorn: yeah sure. this may sound egotistical but i'm pretty sure i could win if magic wasn't involved

Crystal Winter: yes. the bitch would trip over her own shoelaces and knock herself out

[exhausted-archivist]

Heights Based off Official Model Scales, Dev Words, or Lore specified

Updated: 05/2024

I find it delightful and fits into the feral and desperate need I have for Thedas to be experiencing mega fauna and flora. Important note, the only height that is canon is Bull's as it is mentioned in the lore books World of Thedas vol. 2. The rest are based off scaled models and dev words; the latter up to personal preference on how canon that is.

I've also updated these since the last post as wonderful people reached out and gave me their numbers as well as updating Dorian's height to what his character model height is based on Gaider's tweet.

Going from shortest to tallest we have this:

Varric - 5' - 5'3 / 152.4-160.02cm [Source]

Morrigan - 5'8 / 172.72cm (Sans heels) [Source]*

Alistair - 6' / 182.88cm [Source]

Dorian - 6' / 183cm *

Solas - 6' / 182.88.cm [Source]

The Iron Bull - 8' / 243.84cm*

Elaboration (Below the Cut)

Varric:

Varric's statute details included below. I used the range because when I previously posted about heights there were disagreements on his height. But it also led to several people giving me their measurements on the statue! Which thank you so much for sharing! Measurements can vary wildly, so the more data is always better.

Additionally, the 153cm / 5' height is echoed by his in-game model, so I think that is a definite minimum for his height.

Morrigan:

Morrigan's statue details and the help of a friend who has her statue, gave us the numbers for Morrigan's height with and without heels. These numbers are also echoed in her in-game model of 173.81cm / 5'8 sans heels and 178.44cm / 5'10 with heels. (Please excuse the lack of a face on her. For some reason my blender says it is an invalid file and I can't figure out how to fix it.)

Alistair:

The Sideshow listing and the manufacturer Three Zero listing give two numbers 12.5" and 12", with the latter being the one repeated the most.

I will note that there are some issues with the provided numbers as 12" is 30.62cm and the listing states he is 32cm which is 12.5". But considering previous conversation on the matter and that cm in scaling of these items seem a bit more unreliable in the actual size of the product (they are approximates after all) I chose to stick with the provided measurements in inches due to it matching up with his in-game model height of 183.5cm / 6' (technically its 6' and 1/16 of an inch but rounding down here).

If you want to choose to stick with the cm measurements, on 1:6 scale, 32 cm would be 190.5cm / 6'3 for Alistair.

Dorian:

When asked about Dorian's height, David Gaider specified that: "He is as tall as the character artists made him." [Source]

Originally, I had put Dorian's height at a range due to the fact he is the ideal proportions at 8 heads tall which by modern industry standard means he's 6'2, but by earlier standards means he's 6'. But now that I have access to the character models used in-game and blender, we know for certain his height is supposed to be 6' / 183cm.

Solas:

So the listing images gave off a very incorrect estimate of height, but kind of to be expected when they photoshop soda cans in. Thanks to the many people who sent me numbers, here and on other places. Solas from front foot to head is 18" / 46.5cm of his 20" / 51cm statue.

This height of 6' is also echoed by an old tweet from Trick Weekes saying Solas was 6'-ish ft.

The Iron Bull:

In World of Thedas vol. 2 p. 255 they have the description that he is 8' tall.

Everyone in the Chargers is someone who can look at an eight-foot horned giant and say, 'Yes, I trust that man with my life.'

If you're wondering if that includes the horns? Up to you, it's not specified. If you want to do sans horns, according to the scaling of his statue, they math out to adding roughly 5". Which would make him 7'5 (226.06cm).

It took a lot of math on my part, measuring his calf, thigh, and then up from there. But he does measure to 8' / 243.84cm when you scale the number of 62cm / 24".

Additional Notes:

For transparency, as noted in this post on in-game character model heights for Inquisition, Solas is noted to be 5'10 / 179cm and Iron Bull is 6'9 / 204cm. These are at odds with the dev word and lore notes, so they aren't used for comparison here. As there are likely game reasons/limitations they do not have wholly unique character models in terms of height. (Such as doorways, animation differences, armor, ect.)

[charliemwrites]

Character File

Name: Rook “Duke” Alistair Aliases: Daisy Dukes, Daisy, Sunshine, Blondie

Age: 26 Gender and pronouns: AFAB using she/they Marital Status: Single Surviving family: biological father (estranged), adoptive mother, adoptive father, brother

Physical description: Standing at 5’9” (175cm) and 135lbs. (61 kilos) Rook stands tall and wiry. Though slighter than her brother, Castle Alistair, she’s still packed with muscle that is carried primarily in her thighs and abdomen. Her hair is strawberry blond, cut into a medium length bob – though it curls quite a bit. She is often seen with several pins and clips in her hair trying to keep it back from her face. Her eyes are green and large, set in a round face that makes her look young for her age. She had braces in her early teens to straighten her teeth.

Identifying/Unusual features:

Light freckles across her nose and forehead

No facial scarring

Tattoos: A daisy behind her right ear A simplified castle outline on her bicep (for her brother) A stylized sun on her left shoulder, crawling across one side of her chest and up her neck Binary for “service” on her forearm

Several burn scars on her hands, wrists, and arms

A birthmark on the bottom of her right foot that few people have ever seen

Special file note: Rook holds the records for most and dumbest injuries on base. Often the smallest and most unexpected incidents have led to a medbay visit. She is often seen with bandages, bruises, scrapes, and scratches. Thankfully, she is a good patient and most of the medical staff enjoy her cheerful demeanor.

Early Childhood:

Rook’s earliest memory is her older brother walking her to preschool. He was sharing an orange with her, carefully peeling off bits of pith for her to munch on.

While he, Helena, and Clancy are technically her cousin, aunt, and uncle respectively, she has always considered them her immediate family. She only met her biological father once when she was twelve and was not impressed.

Her childhood was filled with laughter and love, though she often felt oddly displaced. Helena and Clancy were much older and had never planned on a second child – never mind a girl. And her brother ended up shipping off to college when she was only five. He visited when he could, but she spent a lot of time on her own or unsupervised when she hit eight years old.

She was very close with Helena, the two of them playing the radio loud to sing along while they did chores around the farm. Rook absolutely adored her mother, and to this day dreams of her peach cobbler when she’s away from home. As a result, Rook picked up her love of clothes with interesting prints and bright colors.

Her relationship with Clancy was not strained, but not as easy as with Helena. Of course, he loved his adopted daughter, he just wasn’t sure what to do with her beyond that. Oftentimes, it led to him treating her like Castle, though her flightier and more energetic nature made some of those lessons take differently.

Rook was often praised for being an inquisitive and intelligent child – though some of her teachers found the constant barrage of questions to be disruptive. Somewhat unexpectedly, she excelled in math from an early age, followed quickly by the sciences.

In middle school, the blond farmgirl jokes began. Unlike her brother’s quick temper to defend himself and his family, Rook usually took the route of laughing along with them. (That said, nothing stopped her from pushing a girl down for trying to step on a frog one rainy April day.) This developed into a tendency to hide behind a ditzy persona, which felt safe and easy.

In high school, she took a special liking to physics and engineering. Focused more on schoolwork and helping around the farm, she didn’t date much. (That said, anyone with an interest in her had to debate the merits of her marine brother coming home to meet them.) She much preferred learning to code online and rescuing strays that happened across the farm – much to her parents’ chagrin.

Throughout her life, Castle was her role model. In her childhood, he seemed like a third parent, but as she got older, their relationship developed into a more typical brother-sister bond. Even so, she needed no proud rambles from her parents to look up to him.

So, as her future began to loom, and decisions became necessary, she followed a similar path to him. Rook enrolled in the ROTC program at the same college he attended – though she chose a double major in engineering and computer science that set her down a different road.

Military Career:

Alistair’s early military years in the Air Force are riddled with ups and downs. Intelligent, positive, and respectful, she was well-liked by both superiors and comrades. Quick to finish tasks, solve problems, and aid others. That said, she had something of a disciplinary record for small but repetitive issues. Uniform violations, minor misconduct (forgetting to salute officers or speaking out of turn), and general… regulatory issues.

While not headed for dishonorable discharge, she was dodging demerits and often faced disciplinary action. However, upon finding a major leak in one of their information networks, she came to the attention of one Kate Laswell.

Laswell, impressed with her intelligence and work ethic, found that her military-defying eccentricities were easy to overlook considering her benefit to the military. Alistair was soon transferred under Laswell’s direct purview to aid different missions and teams as a “hacker” and engineer. While Alistair remains something of an oddball, she and Laswell have built a solid working relationship.

(During her employ with a certain Shadow Company during her Air Force days, Alistair earned the callsign “Duke” – a derivation of Daisy Dukes due to Alistair’s appearance and farming background.)

[empirearchives]

Napoleon and Water

Excerpt from the book Aaron Burr in Exile: A Pariah in Paris, 1810-1811, by Jane Merrill and John Endicott

Aaron Burr lived in Paris for 15 months, and this book goes into detail about those years living under Napoleon’s rule. This part focuses on Napoleon’s water related reforms.

———

Napoleon’s fountains gave drinking water to the population, that is, children drank water, not beer. The water was free, not purchased. And the apartment would have had a separate water closet equipped with squat toilets (adopted from the Turks) and a bucket to wash it after use. Some restaurants and cafes had W.C.s, even one for ladies and one for gents. These were hooked into the sewer system that branched under each important street.

Napoleon merits points for delivering fresh water to Paris. If serving Paris with water from the d'Ourcq River by canals was not be a consummate success, Paris gained 40 new fountains, and the emperor commanded that fountains run all day (instead of a few limited hours) and that the water be free of charge.

Perhaps the most laudable of Napoleon’s policies were utilitarian city works, especially bringing clean water and sanitation to Paris. The improvements to infrastructure included new quays to prevent floods, new gutters and pavement, new aqueducts and fountains, and relocating cemeteries and slaughterhouses to the outskirts of the city. This was also a way of keeping up employment. An Austrian aristocrat in town during Napoleon’s wedding to Marie-Louise wrote his mother, in Vienna: “Nothing can give an idea of the immense projects undertaken simultaneously in Paris. The incoherence of it is incredible; one cannot imagine that the life of a single man would be enough to finish them.”

It was a tall order. Previous rulers had been aware of the problems and one big engineering initiative, a failed marvel, had been the waterworks at Marly, located on the banks of the Seine about seven miles from Paris. Louis XIV had it constructed to pump water from the river to his chateaux of Versailles and Marly. This was the machine marvel of its age, with 250 pumps that forced river water up a 500-foot rise to an aqueduct, and it was a sight Burr mentions going to see. By 1817 the “Marly machine” had deteriorated because it was made of wood, and the waterworks were abandoned.

Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve, the prominent 19th century literary critic, wrote that there had been “ten years of anarchy, sedition and laxity, during which no useful work had been undertaken, not a street had been cleaned, not a residence repaired nothing improved or cleansed.” Postrevolutionary Paris was at a nadir in terms of both the inadequate, disease-ridden water supply and the filthy streets, which were basically open sewers, deep with black mud and refuse.

“Napoleon,” writes Alistair Horne, “was obsessed by the water of Paris, and everything to do with it.”

Parisians had mostly been getting their water directly from the Seine or lining up at the scant pay fountains. In 1806, nineteen new wells for fountains were dug that flowed day and night and were free. Napoleon had a canal built 60 miles from the River Ourcq, ordering 500 men to dig it, while still a consul in 1801. It brought water to the Bassin de la Villette, opening in 1808. Some doubted the wisdom of having such an abundance of water—an oriental luxury that might incur moral decay. Now the supply of water for firefighting was also much improved. The canal had light boats, as Napoleon tried to make back some of the huge expenditure by licensing navigation, and a circular aqueduct from which underground conduits went to the central city. In 1810, there were still many water porters wheeling barrels through the city.

Now Napoleon attacked the problem of the Seine as a catchall for pollution. Parisians were so used to it that men swam naked in the river and a contemporary guidebook advised merely that the water of the Seine had no ill effects on foreigners so long as they drank it mixed with wine or a drop of vinegar. Thus houses on bridges were demolished and an immense push began to clean and modernize the city sewers.

As this book is about Aaron Burr, here is section about Burr taking inspiration by a new water related invention during his time in Paris:

Remarkably for someone who was very aware of his health, he never complained of the water. He did, however, take an interest in an invention to make it easier to dig a well. When the inventor of a process to make vinegar from the sap of any tree was not in his shop, Burr and a friend, “Crede”, went to see another invention: “We went then to see Mons. Cagniard, and his new invention of raising water and performing any mechanical operation. His apparatus is a screw of Archimedes turned the reverse, air, water, and quick silver. Cagniard was abroad; but we saw a model, and worked it, and got the report of a committee of the Institute on the subject. If the thing performs what is said I will apply it to give water to Charleston.”

[Bold italics for quotations by me]

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 50]

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Tobias and Nia take the ferry north to the guild, but the river might not be as peaceful as they would hope.

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When Tobias wakes at sunrise, he has to take a few minutes to settle his thoughts. For once, they’re racing almost as soon as he’s conscious, still tangled up in all of the information Nia dumped on him after her impromptu talk with Giratina yesterday.

As if that situation wasn’t terrifying enough on its own.

No, she also had to come back from her little chat with news of the world ending. And somehow, Nia and Tobias are the ones put in charge of stopping it.

No pressure or anything.

Tobias knows they can’t just ignore it, though. If Giratina is telling the truth—and Tobias is still a bit iffy on that, but can’t find much reason for why he would lie about such a thing, either—then it needs to be fixed. It’s not something he’s willing to take a chance on.

At least they have a plan. Tobias isn’t looking forward to groveling to Will for the assistance Nia is convinced he can give, but he’ll feel better once he loops August and Alistair and some of the other guild ‘mon in on this. See what they know. Someone has to have an idea of where Xerneas’ resting place could be.

But before worrying about all of that, they need to actually make it back to the Lexym Guild. Even taking the ferry, it’ll probably be a couple of days until they reach home. They can think over how to bring all of this to light once they’re back.

Tobias sits up with a groan and goes about his usual process of rolling Nia out of bed. She whines in protest, but he manages to hurry them both out of the inn and into the heart of Shivergleam just as the first rays of dawn start to peek orange-bright through the foggy gray morning.

Shivergleam is strange to see in the light of day. Most Pokemon are either already asleep or heading to bed, and as they pass a grocery store Tobias sees a yawning gourgeist flip their OPEN sign to CLOSED. The ominous, twisted wooden structures around them suddenly look harmless. Almost like a town of whimsical treehouses, some distant cousin to his own home in the Lexym Tree.

Tobias leads Nia across creaky bridges (which are scarier in the day, when he can see just how far down the drop is to fog-capped swamp water) towards where he’s pretty sure the Aqua Jet had docked the night before. It’s not like it’s too big of a town, and Cordelia’s white and orange ferry stands out against the much more modest wooden canoes that the locals own.

The two of them hurry down the steps to the ferry, catching Beck just as he pulls himself out of the swamp. Water runs in rivulets through his thick orange fur and splatters onto the wood as he looks up.

“There you are! Perfect timing. Our other passenger just boarded so we’re ready to go.”

“Who’s the other passenger?” Nia asks.

Beck scratches at his chin. “A sableye. Some kind of researcher? He’s heading to the caves north of the Lexym Guild, near the foot of the mountains.”

Nia perks up at the word researcher. “I wonder if he’d tell us what he researches!”

“Not sure. He was a bit mumbly—real quiet guy.”

Tobias can handle quiet. They don’t need any shenanigans on their trip back north, especially considering they have to be on the water again. Not exactly any fire type’s favorite place to be.

“And they’re back!” A voice crows from up near the captain’s cabin. A blue and yellow maw leans out to peer down at them, teeth bared in an obnoxious grin. “Couldn’t stay away from the beautiful riverfront, could you, Charmander?”

Tobias curls his lip at her in return. While Nia waves and says hi, Tobias boards the ferry and moves to the back deck out of the croconaw’s line of sight.

It’s there he spots their new co-passenger: a spindly, dark purple ghost type with large, unnerving gemstone eyes. As in they literally look like cut gemstones. Creepy. The Pokemon is curled around a backpack and tucked up against the cabin of the ferry, half-hidden in shadows.

Tobias’ gut instinct after last night with Edme (and the general distance of the Shivergleam residents as a whole) is to be wary of their fellow passenger. Not that it would be likely for Edme to send someone after them for information about Giratina or revenge or something, but…

“Tobias, did you—“

Nia stops as she catches up, blinking as she notices the other passenger. It takes her a beat longer than usual, but she does step closer to give the ghost type a nervous smile.

“Hello! You must be the researcher Beck mentioned, right? I’m Nia and this is Tobias. I thought we should introduce ourselves since we’ll be traveling together for a few days!”

The sableye curls in a bit more at the greeting, but does quietly say, “H-Hello. Carnelian. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!”

Carnelian gives a jerky nod. Not rude, but clearly anxious and maybe not used to socializing.

They take a few steps away to give him some space. As the crew finishes preparations, Nia looks to Tobias, probably waiting for him to head back down to the boiler room with Ignatius.

Tough luck. After last night he’s not letting his danger-prone partner out of sight quite yet. He waves her off, gesturing for her to sit wherever she’s planning to sit so he can figure out where he’s settling for the morning.

Nia frowns, catching on. “You can really go inside if you’d like.”

Tobias rolls his eyes and takes the initiative, plopping down against the ferry’s middle, as far as he can from Carnelian. “I’ll go in if I want to.”

Nia doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t argue as the ferry starts up. Tobias hears Beck and Nori leap overboard with a quiet splash. Ignatius must’ve already descended into the boiler room to get the steam engine running. Which only leaves—

Caspian comes plap plap plap-ing around the corner. The little quaxly is clearly full of energy despite the early hour. He waves happily to Nia and Tobias before scampering from one side of the deck to the other to make sure that everything is in place and properly tied down. Tobias still isn’t sure if the kid is actually responsible for that part of the routine, or if the crew just gave him a “job” to help him feel useful.

Regardless, as Nia and Tobias watch, Cas runs to and fro before deeming the ship worthy. He leans through the railing to wave down at the river, and Tobias hears a quiet splash as Beck swims around to the front of the ferry to give Cordelia the all-clear. Within a minute, they’re moving slowly across the swamp, through the narrow channel leading back to the Lilycap River.

In the light of day, the swampy environment just looks…peaceful. Inviting, even, if you don’t mind water.

Carnelian doesn’t seem too keen to chat, so Nia sighs and lays back across the deck. “…I should probably practice my aura.”

Tobias raises a brow. It’s not unusual for Nia to practice her aura abilities, but it is unusual for her to jump to that option immediately, especially this early in the morning. She must be thinking about what Giratina said. Tobias has the itch to train too, knowing what they’re up against.

“Aura?”

Cas has moved to their side. The quaxly tilts his head at Nia.

Nia sits up. “Oh. Um, it’s sort of like….a specific set of moves I can use as a riolu. Everyone has aura, but I can use it for attacks and sensing things and reading someone's energy.”

Cas’ brow furrows. “‘Reading?’ Like a book? How do you do that for energy?”

“Well…aura is sort of like each pers—each Pokemon’s, um. Life energy, I guess? And everyone’s is unique! Like a fingerprint. I can look at them and know more about someone’s character and personality.”

“Could you read mine?!” Cas asks, confusion dropping in exchange for sheer excitement.

Nia looks torn between amusement and discomfort. “I-I mean. I could? But it’s sort of…personal. I see a lot about who you are. Some Pokemon find it kind of…invasive.”

“I don’t mind!” Cas insists, plopping down and scooting closer with all the reckless excitement of the child he is. “Please? It sounds neat! And I’m not big enough to help out with anything else right now so I have time.”

After another moment of hesitation, Nia huffs a laugh. She relaxes and holds out a paw. “All right. Could I have your wing for a minute?”

Cas complies, and Nia closes her eyes. Bright blue energy outlines her body, and the appendages at either side of her head lift as she concentrates her aura.

Tobias watches this process with vague curiosity. While he’s been adamant from the start that Nia not read his aura, the process doesn’t seem quite as awful to him as it once did. Not if Nia’s the one looking at his soul, at least. He would still rather she not, a little uncomfortable with what she might find, but the thought doesn’t send anxiety rushing through him, either.

Plus, she already glimpsed it down in the mines. Red. He’s red, apparently. Whatever that means.

“You’re sort of a bright pinkish-purple,” Nia says. “Almost fuchsia.”

Cas, who had been nervously staring at Nia, perks up. “That sounds pretty!”

Nia smiles, eyes still closed. “It is pretty. It’s like…the reflected colors in a bubble. Fun and light. Or…coral? Supportive. Tougher than it looks.”

Caspian looks like he’s feeling self-conscious but isn’t sure if he should be. “So is fuchsia…good?”

Nia releases the quaxly’s wing and smiles. “Well, I sure like it!”

Caspian looks down, feathers fluffing with pleased embarrassment.

“A lot of water metaphors this time,” Tobias notes, amused.

Nia shrugs with a smile. "Just felt right."

“Is that because I'm a water type?" Cas asks. "Do all types have the same color aura?”

“No, as far as I can tell your type doesn’t actually matter,” Nia says. “I’m sort of a turquoise blue, but I’m a fighting type. And I know another water type who’s green.”

“Oh.” Cas looks up thoughtfully. “I wonder what color Delia is.”

Tobias snorts. He can’t imagine Cordelia feeling comfortable letting Nia look at her soul. She seems like the fiercely private type—not that he has any room to talk.

Nia shrugs. “Could be anything, really.”

Cas mulls that over, leaning to the side and trying to peer around the tall cabin of the ferry as if he could actually see Cordelia at the wheel, let alone into her soul.

“Your aura control is really solid now,” Tobias comments.

Nia's tail wags a bit. “Thank you! I still feel like I have a long way to go, but I’m getting better. I’ve been practicing a lot!”

Tobias knows, considering he’s been around for most of her practicing.

“You going to show Val the new aura radar trick you figured out in the mines?"

“Yeah! I just hope I can recreate it when I talk to her.”

Cas tunes back into the conversation, chirping, “So what all can you do with aura?”

Nia gives Tobias a wink before forming a short staff of aura and giving it a twirl.

Cas gasps. “That’s so cool!”

“You have any cool tricks?” Tobias asks the little water type.

“I can’t do anything like that, but Auntie has been working with me on a lot of other moves and stuff. Here, watch this!”

The quaxly hops to his feet and spurts a weak water gun attack out over the railing to splatter harmlessly into the river channel.

Nia claps, and Tobias makes a suitably impressed face.

“I don’t have much else, though. I’ve mostly been working on, uh, status moves,” Cas says, sitting down. “Auntie’s a primarina, so she’s really good with that sort of thing. And she says that I shouldn’t be in the middle of serious fights at my age anyways.”

“Status moves, huh,” Nia echoes, idly twisting her aura baton through her fingers.

Tobias knows that look. She must be thinking about which ones she could use herself. He nudges her. “You ever gonna try learning work up? It’s a normal type move.”

Nia’s eyes widen. “I forgot about that one! What does that do again? Raises attack, right?”

“And special attack.”

Nia’s brow furrows. “Great. So now all I have to do is just…learn it.”

“Is it a TM?” Cas asks.

Nia blinks, first at the water type and then at Tobias.

Tobias barely bites back a rude remark. “No, it’s not a trained move for you. Should be learned naturally.”

Cas turns a confused look onto Nia.

“I…have trouble learning new moves,” Nia explains, sheepish. “Learning moves naturally. It doesn’t come to me as easy as it should.”

“That’s all right!” Cas says, surprisingly genuine. “I struggle sometimes with the moves Auntie and Delia teach me, but eventually I figure ‘em out! Usually I just gotta figure out how to form ‘em.”

Nia tilts her head. “How to form them?”

“Yeah!” Cas nods. “Like how a water gun is all about focusing my power in my belly, where my water sac is, but for disarming voice I try to push my energy into my lungs and throat.”

“Oh! Right.” Nia watches Cas with a quiet intensity as the klinklang turn inside her head. “How…how would you try using a move like work up? Where your whole body gets stronger? I was thinking that I would just need to spread my aura—my energy throughout my body, but that doesn’t seem to work.”

Cas glances at Tobias, as if unsure of why Nia is looking to a twelve year old of all ‘mon for guidance. But then he speaks up, “Well…does it feel like you’re giving your muscles any kind of boost when you do that?”

Nia closes her eyes for a moment, as if testing it out, and frowns. “…No. it feels like it’s just leaving my body without doing anything.”

“Oh, I used to do something like that!” Cas says, clearly thrilled to be able to help. “It's probably ‘cause you’re just pushing your energy out, away from your body. Auntie said you just waste it when you do that.”

Nia groans, head landing in her paws. “Great.”

“She told me that instead of pushing your energy away from you, you have to, um…how’d she put it? You have to use your energy like a river.”

“A river?” Tobias asks, doubtful.

Cas nods. “Yeah! Like, channel your energy through your body in one big loop instead of outward, starting at your shoulders then down to your feet and back up. She said that keeping it moving is what makes the power.”

Nia’s eyes widen as she straightens up. “Like a water wheel. If the energy is the water, then keeping it in a constant river loop keeps it contained in your body—“

“Instead of just pushing it away from yourself and wasting it,” Tobias realizes.

Nia grins. “Of course! Oh, that makes so much sense. Thank you, Cas! I’ll try that.”

Cas fluffs again, happy but shy. Once Tobias asks him about his aunt who taught him that, he starts chattering again, clearly super proud of the primarina.

As he does, Tobias glances at their sableye travel-buddy, who is still hunched over in the shade of the boat’s middle. Then Tobias lets himself fall back to the warming deck and closes his eyes, pillowing his head with his arms to listen.

While he might not be fond of boat travel, there isn’t much else to do over the next couple days aside from plan and do what little training they can. Might as well chat with Cas and relax while they can.

—————————————————————————————————

Over the next day and a half, Tobias’ fear of leaving Nia alone dies down, allowing him to retreat to the warm isolation of the boiler room when the river starts to become too much. He still doesn’t stay with Ignatius as much as he did on their first trip, though.

He feels the need to keep an eye on Nia, worried about where her head is at. It’s just like the period after her illness, when she would space out and drown in her own thoughts. Sometimes Tobias catches a sheen of tears in her eyes too, like she’s just barely holding it together. Tobias doesn’t know if it’s the fear and pressure of the mission dropped onto their shoulders, or if she’s worried about being able to return to the human world.

Either way, he can tell that she’s…off.

Tobias doesn’t know how to ask her if she wants to talk about it. He feels hot embarrassment burn at his face and close his throat any time he considers it. Instead, he opts to just stay close.

Not that Tobias is much better, between his own fear regarding their world-saving mission and…well.

He’s thinking about Team Zenith again.

It starts with the crobat—Asra or Vesper or whatever his name was at the end. Tobias still hates him, still feels loathing sit cold and heavy like a ball of steel in his chest. He hates the crobat more now that he knows the coward got to live a happy life with his family after what he did to Tobias’ own.

Even if his mate was right and the crobat regretted what he was a part of. Even if Tobias recalls in scattered memories that the crobat didn’t do much more than corral them, he still didn’t stop Dismas or Sulien either. Instead, he let them kill Tobias’ family then ran away.

At least he’s dead now. Tobias should probably feel bad for the quiet satisfaction that thought brings, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Tobias thinks about Dismas and Sulien. The pangoro and arcanine presumably still out there, living their own lives. Do they regret it? Have they had their own families too? Tobias doesn’t remember much about the pangoro aside from flashes of black and white fur, snarling and grappling with his mother, before the arcanine pinned Tobias down and took up the entirety of his vision.

Tobias can only think of what happened to him in pieces before forcing himself to focus again on the world around him, digging his claws into the wood of the boat and looking out over the river. His heart pounds and a chill rises over his skin. He feels his head go light.

Funny enough, the end of the world is somehow a less terrifying thing to focus on. Tobias and Nia haven’t talked about it much since learning of it, seeing as they already have their vague plan and nothing to do until they get back to the Lexym Guild anyways. Tobias doesn’t think talking about it in circles would help.

So they both stay quiet.

Beck catches on quickly to their distracted thoughts and somber mood. The floatzel doesn’t ask, but Tobias notices how he checks in with them when he can, recruiting Cas to buoy the atmosphere. Beck talks to them about the river and the crew’s travels, clearly working hard at making Nia smile. Normally, Tobias would find something like that annoying, but Beck isn’t overbearing about it.

Tobias does find their sableye co-passenger—well. Not annoying, per se, but off-putting. He keeps entirely to himself, occasionally digging through his backpack to write in a little notebook, and Tobias can’t help how suspicious he is of what the little ‘mon writes so fervently.

The last time they trusted a ghost Nia got yanked into the distortion world against her will. Tobias doesn’t think anyone could blame him for a little caution. Well, anyone but Nia apparently. The third time she catches Tobias glancing warily at Carnelian, she pulls him aside to ask him what’s up.

“Weren’t you the one who said ghost types get unfairly discriminated against all the time?” She whispers.

“I’m not doing that!” Tobias hisses.

Nia gives him an unconvinced look.

“He’s just…weird.”

Nia huffs a laugh. “Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he’s weird. Maybe he’s anxious because he’s not used to being away from Shivergleam.”

Tobias sighs, rubbing at his face. Is he being suspicious for no good reason? Would he be less suspicious if the passenger was just as weird but not a ghost type?

…Probably, some small, ashamed part of him admits.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just…on edge.”

“I get it.”

From that point on, Tobias does his best to just ignore the sableye lurking around the ship. Even when they stop to eat in the evening and the sableye mysteriously vanishes.

“Probably finding his own food,” Ignatius explains once he notices Tobias looking around.

“Ah, right. Sableye eat rocks or something, right?” Cordelia says through a mouthful of the stew they’d cooked up.

“Rocks?” Cas echoes, eyes wide.

“Gems,” Nori corrects quietly. “Crystals and minerals.”

“Eh, same difference,” Cordelia dismisses.

The second day of travel dawns as calm as the first. The river is still flooded, rushing by at unsettling speeds, frothy and impossible to see through, but Nori and Beck manage to navigate the rough waters with ease, and Cordelia’s hands are steady at the wheel.

Even the weather is decent. Slightly cloudy and overcast, but no longer pounding rain like it was on the way into Shivergleam. It’s even warm enough for the deck to heat under Tobias’ scales and lull him into a nap while Nia practices her aura.

It’s not until early afternoon that something goes amiss.

Their first sign of danger is Carnelian, scuttling to his feet and looking around. The little Pokemon is fidgety, but something about the abrupt gesture speaks of panic.

Tobias and Nia snap into ready positions themselves a moment after, looking around. Cas, who had been perched on a crate nearby and watching the river, looks nervously between the three of them.

“Carnelian?” Nia asks, quiet. “Did you notice something?”

Carnelian opens his mouth, only for an unfamiliar shout from the front of the boat to snag their attention. It’s more feminine than Beck’s deep voice, and it takes Tobias a moment to realize that it’s Nori. The golduck who has been nearly silent the entire time they’ve known her.

That can’t be good.

Nori is calling something up to Cordelia, who Tobias can vaguely hear cursing in the captain’s quarters. The boat swings suddenly to the side, as if trying to slow to a sudden stop. Nia and Tobias stumble and grab onto the railing, and Caspian falls into Tobias’ side. Carnelian yelps and goes sliding across the deck.

A second later, Tobias feels what Carnelian and Nori must’ve noticed first. A tingling against his skin, in his limbs. Something uncomfortable and off, hard to pin down but familiar enough by now.

A mystery dungeon.

Nia, probably still unable to sense it due to her fighting type nature, frowns at his paling face. “What?”

“Mystery dungeon,” he grits, trying to determine how close it is. If he can feel it in the air, it must be dangerously close.

Cordelia finally manages to ease the boat against the muddy bank of the riverside. It shudders to a stop, and everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Cordelia leaves the cabin and rushes around the corner, eyes honing in on Caspian and relaxing once she catches sight of him. Then she glances around. “Everyone all right back here?”

They all nod. A moment later, Beck and Nori leap out of the river with a splash and thud on deck.

“Everyone okay?” Beck echoes. “Where’s Natius?”

Right on cue, the door to the inner cabin swings open and Ignatius stomps out on-deck. “By Moltres’ flames, what is going on out here?”

The crew relaxes seeing their last missing member in good shape.

“Got a bit too close to a mystery dungeon,” Cordelia sighs, rubbing a clawed hand down her snout. “Nori caught it in time.”

Tobias is glad she did. Even now the tingling is strong, still blaring alarms in the back of his mind that danger is nearby. Tobias looks at Nori. The golduck is staring out into the forest, ruby eyes narrowed.

“U-Um,” Carnelian pipes up, voice high and nervous. Everyone turns to him, surprised to hear the sableye speak.

He shrinks, but glances at Nori, claws twiddling anxiously. “M-Miss Nori, I could be incorrect, but do you still..?”

Nori’s beak flattens out into a grim expression. She nods. “Something’s wrong.”

Tobias exchanges an uneasy glance with Nia.

There’s a tense moment of silence, save for the loud rush of the river. Tobias’ heart pounds as he swears the tingling feeling gets stronger, somehow. His head feels fuzzy, which is strange. He didn’t hit it or anything.

Tobias sees the moment Nori figures it out. “The dungeon is still forming. Right on top of us.”

Oh. Oh no.

Cordelia, who had crouched to pick up Cas, stares at her crewmate.

“W-Wait—it’s still forming?” Nia asks, glancing out at the forest. “Here? Right now? But if that happens—“

“We’ll turn feral,” Ignatius sighs, sounding almost resigned. He puffs out a cloud of smoke. “No telling what’ll happen after that.”

Tobias feels his blood chill, goosebumps rising on his skin. Now that he knows what’s happening, he can consciously recognize how slow and clumsy his thoughts suddenly feel. Like his mind is trying to wade through thick, sticky sap. If the mystery dungeon forms on top of them, they’ll turn feral until it clears again, which could be weeks. And in the meantime they’ll be mindless beasts. If one of them gets hurt, then—

Cas whimpers, burying his head in Cordelia’s stomach. Everyone else looks quietly terrified, eyes down and hands balled into fists.

“C-Can’t we do something?” Nia presses. “Can we outrun it?”

Beck shakes his head. “‘Fraid not. I’ve heard musings, but…”

“Musings?” Tobias asks.

“Unsubstantiated musings,” Nori says.

“I don’t care if they’re substantiated or not!” Tobias snarls. “If you’ve got an idea then say it!”

“Safeguard,” Beck says. “Heard a rumor ‘bout it. But unless one of you has safeguard in your arsenal, we ain’t got no way to protect ourselves even if it would work.”

There's a heavy moment of silence. Then—

Nia’s head whips up. “Protect. Would protect work?”

The crew blinks slowly at Nia, as if trying to process her words. Tobias hears Carnelian let out a animalistic whine of fear.

Nori is the first one to shake out of it enough to speak. “I don’t—“

“Do it!” Tobias growls.

Nia throws out her paws, and her aura snaps into being around them, surrounding the group in a thin dome of blue energy. Immediately, Tobias feels his sluggish thoughts clear, like the first breath of fresh air after a stuffy nose. He realizes he’d been hunched over in a crouch, and straightens up.

Everyone else snaps out of the creeping effect of the dungeon too, standing taller as their eyes clear. Cordelia almost seems to be ashamed about succumbing to the effect, and focuses on murmuring reassurances to Cas. Beck lifts his chin to look up at the protect bubble in awe. Nori is rubbing her forehead, wincing, while Carnelian whimpers and cowers closer to Nia.

Ignatius simply says, “Huh. I’ll be.”

Tobias relates. He kind of can’t believe that worked. It’s…unheard of, to get firsthand experience from Seekers or researchers who were caught in a forming mystery dungeon and able to ward it off. He didn’t know it was possible for a move to save them from such a thing.

“It worked,” Tobias breathes, relieved.

“Why did it work?” Cordelia asks, frowning and looking to Nori. “And why haven’t I heard about these rumors?”

Nori, still rubbing tenderly at the red gem on her forehead, shrugs. “Beck and I heard a rumor earlier this year. About someone using safeguard and escaping from a forming mystery dungeon unscathed. We didn’t think it was true.”

Safeguard…so that means—

“You saying Pokemon going feral is nothin’ more than a status condition?” Cordelia asks, squinting.

Nori shakes her head. “It has to be more than that. But it might work in a…similar way. A form of confusion. If so, it makes some amount of sense that it could be stopped by a strong safeguard.”

“Or a strong protect, apparently,” Beck says. “We’re real lucky you were here, Nia.”

Nia smiles, but Tobias can see the beginning of strain in her expression, in the way she doesn’t respond. She used her protect in the mines at Fort Asra, but Tobias doesn’t think she’s ever made a shield this large. It’s going to drain her quickly, even if she has been practicing with her aura.

“However it worked, we've bought ourselves a few more minutes of sanity,” Tobias says. “But now what? We’re still stuck in the middle of it and Nia can’t keep this up forever.”

Nia’s mouth twists unhappily, but she doesn’t argue.

“Could we move the boat?” Cas suggests quietly.

Cordelia shakes her head. “‘Fraid not. We would need the whole crew at their stations for that, and we’d be too far apart to protect everyone.”

“C-Could we send a distress signal?” Carnelian pipes up, voice shaking. He glances at Tobias and Nia. “To the guild.”

Oh. Right. Tobias feels a little angry that he didn’t think of that himself. He hurriedly reaches into their satchel to grab one of their badges. Then he frowns.

“No go. Too far out.”

Carnelian shrinks back into himself.

“Okay,” Tobias says, running a hand back and over his head. Think, Tobias. They aren’t technically on a mission right now, but they are Seekers. It’s their duty to protect the crew and make sure they’re safe. And Nia is busy as is, so he has to take the lead.

“Moves,” he says. “Or items. Does anyone have anything that might help? Something to stop confusion or get us out of here. Safeguard, protect, uh…fly, teleport. An escape orb?”

“Aren’t you the Seeker?” Ignatius huffs. “You should have the items.”

Tobias shoots the torkoal a nasty look. “Any helpful suggestions?”

Each Pokemon grows quiet, then shakes their head. All except Cordelia, who is looking down at the top of Cas' feathery blue head with a furrow to her brow.

Tobias stares at her, expectant.

She glares back at him, but relents. “We…might have something.”

Then she detaches the teary quaxly from her front, kneeling down to meet his eyes.

“Hey, bro?”

Cas sniffs. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember that move Auntie’s been working on with you? The one with the pink misty stuff?”

Caspian’s brow furrows. He tilts his head. “Misty train?”

Cordelia chuckles, but it’s strained. “Misty terrain, yeah. Can you do me a favor? D’you think you could try to use that?”

Tobias frowns. Misty terrain? The move sounds vaguely familiar, but…

The aura shield around them flickers. Weakens and thins and grows more transparent for just a moment as Nia growls. Tobias, concerned, steps closer and presses his arm against hers.

“A big burst of it, yeah,” Cordelia says, encouraging. “Enough to fill this whole bubble!”

Caspian glances around at everyone’s eyes on him. “W-Would it help?”

“Honestly, bite? Not sure. But it might. And we gotta try something.”

Cas falls silent, looking down at his feet.

Tobias glances at Nori. “Misty terrain?”

The golduck hums, gaze flicking between Cordelia and Cas. “Similar to safeguard. If he can use it, then we might be safe while the dungeon finishes forming.”

Tobias tries not to cling to that hope. He doesn’t want to put that kind of pressure onto a kid. But as he watches, Cordelia braces her hands on Cas’ small shoulders and gives him a squeeze before stepping back.

“All right, Cas. Give it a go. Just like Auntie showed ya.”

Everyone stills as Cas close his eyes. After a moment, he bobs his head—one, two, three, four. His little webbed foot taps along to an unseen beat. Nia, at Tobias’ side, is breathing hard as she continues to hold the protect.

Then Cas starts a little dance, surprisingly rhythmic. His feet tap and arc across the wood, his wings twisting and turning. Before Tobias can question what the heck he’s doing, he spins.

A cloud of pink energy bursts out from him in a wave. Tobias throws up his arms, and when he lowers them the air in their little bubble is…sparkly, the wood beneath their feet tinted with a shifting pink fog.

“Did it work?” Nia asks, voice tight.

Caspian, panting, looks between Nori and Cordelia.

Nori says, “No way to tell.”

Tobias grows colder. “So we have to just…”

“Try it,” Beck sighs. “Well? Do we want to rip the bandage off quick?”

“Awful casual about it,” Tobias growls.

Beck shrugs, though Tobias catches the concerned look he gives Nia.

Tobias sighs.

“Nia,” He says. “Drop the protect.”

She cracks open an eye, unsure.

“You can’t keep this up forever. Either it worked or it didn’t.”

Nia is clearly uncomfortable with that sentiment, but Tobias can see the way her arms tremble. How her ears fight to pin back with the strain.

“Nia,” he says, sharper.

She lets go with a gasp. The blue around them vanishes, leaving the open air of the river and the forest on either side. As Nia pants, Tobias holds his own breath.

The pink mist plays across the ground around them in a circle. It doesn’t dissipate, hovering around their feet like a protective presence.

Tobias glances at the others and can see the same nervous caution on their faces. But as the seconds pass, Tobias counting each beat until one minute passes, then two…he doesn’t feel that same fuzzy confusion return to slow his thoughts like tar.

“Did it work?” Ignatius asks, hushed. “Or did the dungeon already finish forming?”

Nori shakes her head, pointing out into the trees.

Tobias follows her gesture, feeling his skin crawl. The forest looks…restless. Trees roll in waves as the landscape shifts. Like the earth below them is a great waking beast. Even the boat tilts and groans, as if it too is being pulled into the distortion of the mystery dungeon.

Loud, sharp cries echo from the forest: Pokemon who weren’t as lucky as them. Pokemon caught up in the dungeon's haze. Within their circle of pink mist, however, their minds seem untouched.

Everyone releases a collective breath.

Cordelia whoops, scooping Cas up and spinning him in a tight hug. She’s yelling about how she knew he could do it and that he kicks tail. The quaxly giggles, a little teary-eyed.

Tobias finally relaxes, sinking down to the deck next to Nia. She laughs, tired and relieved as she bumps her head into Tobias’ shoulder.

“G’job, little ember,” Ignatius says to Cas. Then he turns to Nori. “How long will this hold?”

“Long enough, hopefully,” Nori says. “Eventually the dungeon will settle. All we can do is sit and wait for it to finish.”

Since Nori is keeping a watchful eye on their environment, Tobias allows himself to take a moment to breathe. He can’t make himself relax entirely, but he can’t do much at the moment either. He looks around at their companions.

Ignatius and Cordelia are murmuring to each other quietly. Cas looks exhausted by his big burst of energy, and leans heavily against Cordelia so she can scritch at his feathers. Carnelian is curled into a nervous ball around his bag, plucking at the backpack's cloth with his claws. He has scooted closer to Nia, as if soothed by her presence. Beck seems to be lost in thought, until Tobias notices how the floatzel glances at the edge of their protective circle. Ah. Keeping an eye on the misty terrain, then. Good.

Nia, finally having caught her breath, turns to sit against Tobias. He leans back as well so they’re spine to spine and tries to reign in his nerves. They need to stay calm and hope that the dungeon finishes forming before Cas’ attack wears off. Then…he supposes they’ll need to fight their way out of the dungeon.

He and Nia need to be ready to lead them when that time comes. They’re young, but they likely still have the most experience with navigating through situations like this.

“Huh,” Nia says, almost too quiet to hear.

“What?”

“Oh. I was just thinking that it makes sense. What Nori said, about the dungeon causing something similar to confusion.”

“Why’s that?” Tobias asks, tilting his chin back to look at the side of her head.

“Well…” her voice lowers. “If what Giratina said is true, then the borders of the rift are made up of aura. Of…life energy. And moves also come from our own life energy, our own aura. So I guess it just makes sense to me that damage in the border could…confuse the world in the same way Pokemon get confused by like, a confuse ray or something.”

Tobias snorts, remembering what Nia told him after her last breakthrough with aura. “Avery is going to lose their mind when you tell them that.”

Nia laughs. “I know.”

The group starts up a quiet conversation while they wait for the dungeon to finish forming, everyone likely trying to avoid thinking too hard about whether or not Cas’ misty terrain will hold. Tobias eyes the changing surroundings as they talk.

The forest almost seems alive, closing in tighter and tighter to form the mystery dungeons' trademark “rooms” and “hallways.” The trees shift and twist, weaving together with loud cracks that make Carnelian, Cas and Nia flinch. Weedy grasses and muddy banks rise higher into sharp inclines, boxing them slowly into a long corridor. It’s unnerving to watch happen, as if some invisible giant is ignoring the laws of reality and molding the world around them, stretching trees out like putty and raising the earth like sandcastles.

Slowly, the movements settle. The open air of the wide river has been contained to something much smaller, partially blocking out the overcast sky. An uneasy quiet descends on the forest, and Tobias isn’t sure why it feels this unnatural until he hears Cas murmur something about the river.

That’s it. The loud roar of the river is just…gone.

“I believe it’s finished,” Nori finally says.

Everyone stands tall to try peering over the lip of the boat and into the corridor they’re now trapped in. The “walls” of the hallway are unnaturally steep banks of mud, smooth river stones, and long grasses, with tree roots twisted throughout here and there. Tobias thinks he can see rivulets of water trickling down them, and hears the gentle burble of running water that can’t compare to the roar of the river.

The rivulets bleed into the “floor” of the hallway, which is covered in a sheen of water, as if it has become its own modest stream. Tobias feels his heart drop at the sight and squints, trying to look past the bright reflection of the sky to see if the water is deep or just surface-level. He has no idea how they’re going to fight their way out if the dungeon is covered in deep water. Just walking through a floor of the stuff would burn Tobias’ feet raw.

Nori is the first one to move. She exchanges a look with Beck, then calmly walks out of the protective circle. Tobias' heart jumps. Cordelia makes a sound of alarm and darts after the golduck, but Beck steps in her path.

“Beck, if you don’t move that waterlogged orange pelt—“

“Someone has to test it, and Nori is the most sensitive of us to psychic fields. She knows what she’s doing.”

Cordelia’s eyes flick past him to Nori. She grits her teeth and watches the golduck take a few more steps to the railing of the boat before turning to look at them, crossing her arms to wait.

“Give her a few minutes,” Ignatius says. “If she feels fine after that, we should be safe to move.”

After a moment, Cordelia returns to Cas' side. But she keeps her eyes trained on the golduck to watch for any signs of her being affected.

Luckily, Nori calmly stays in place, looking out over the corridor. After a few minutes, she pushes off and walks back into the protective circle of the misty terrain.

“I believe it’s safe.”

“Clearly,” Cordelia snorts. Then her voice hardens. “Don’t do that again. Captain’s orders.”

Nori nods, as if she didn’t just deliberately make a decision knowing Cordelia would object.

Cordelia grunts. Then she turns to look around at the rest of her crew and their passengers. “Well, Cas and the riolu saved our tails, but we still gotta get out of here. We ready to fight?”

“We’re not going to fight unless we have to,” Tobias counters, crossing his arms. The crew members look at him, surprised.

“And what makes you think you’re calling the shots here, kid?”

“Because Nia and I are Seekers, remember? Unless you’re secretly dungeon divers yourselves, we’re the most familiar with navigating places like this.”

“You suggesting you two lead us through this mess?” Ignatius asks, incredulous.

Tobias nods.

“Can you fight?” Cordelia challenges.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Of course we can fight. But we should avoid ferals when possible because we have a giant group and an unknowably deep dungeon—we have to conserve our energy where we can.”

“He has a point,” Nori says.

Beck's tails twist worriedly, like a propellor. “This is unfamiliar territory you two aren’t used to. You sure you're up to this?”

Tobias snorts. “Every dungeon is unfamiliar territory. You wouldn’t be any more used to it than we are.”

Beck frowns, conceding the point but not looking happy about it.

“I would like to keep an eye on Cas,” Cordelia admits. Then, more of an order than a question, “What’s your team rank?”

“U-Um. D, right?” Nia says, glancing at Tobias.

Tobias winces, then hurries to add, “We’ve only been Seekers for a couple of months.”

“Awful proud for such shiny new recruits,” Ignatius mutters.

Tobias opens his mouth to snap something at the torkoal, only for Nia to stop him with a gentle paw on his arm.

“I know we’re young,” Nia says. “And we haven't been doing this long. But we’ve already been through…a lot. We’re stronger than we look.”

“And we’re the Seekers,” Tobias stresses. “Even if you can battle, this is different than a spar between two sane Pokemon. Let us lead.”

“We can clear a path for you,” Nia adds. “If it turns out that we can’t handle it, you guys can step in.”

The air is still heavy with uncertainty.

Tobias is irked that this is suddenly an issue at all when they face dangerous missions every day, but he knows Nia’s calmer approach is more likely to prove their point about them being mature enough to handle this, so he keeps his mouth shut.

The crew exchange looks with one another. Nori seems to surprisingly be on their side. She stares her crew mates down, apparently firm in her decision. After a moment, Ignatius grumbles something about young startups, but backs down. Cordelia, after a long and wordless exchange of expressions with Nori, nods once.

Beck is the only adult crew member who hasn’t agreed.

“What? What’s the problem?”

The floatzel sighs. “…Nothing. Just getting old and letting my instincts as a dad win out over my instincts as a crewmate.”

Oh. He’s…worried about them? He shouldn’t be. They just got the fate of the world dumped on their shoulders. They can handle a little mystery dungeon.

“We can handle it, Beck,” Nia says, echoing his thoughts. Her voice is firm but not unkind. She gives him a smile. “I know you’re worried, but this is kind of our job.”

Glancing around and realizing that no one else shares his concerns, Beck caves. “All right. Just…let me know if you two need help, all right? These old bones can still fight if need be.”

“Deal!”

The group cautiously moves out of the protective effect of Cas’ circle and to the edge of the boat. Beck insists on going down first, “Just to check how deep it is,” before slipping overboard. Tobias frowns when Beck goes entirely underwater, confirming that the path is too deep to walk through. The floatzel surfaces, glancing around to make sure nothing is about to attack before waving up at them.

Cordelia smirks at Tobias. “You sure you still want to lead, flame?”

Tobias, on completely stupid impulse, glares at her before hopping over the edge of the boat. Beck barks a startled sound but manages to catch him on his chest.

Tobias pushes roughly at the paws on his arms. “Let me go! I’m fine.”

“You can’t be implying you’re going to swim through this.”

“I said we’ll lead and I meant it!”

Beck tightens his hold. Tobias could break free, but he doesn’t want to hurt the stupid old ‘mon.

“Just…let me give you a lift through the water,” Beck says, meeting Tobias’ eyes. “In return, I won’t fret about you two leading us.”

“Or you could just let me go and not fret anyways.”

Beck’s gives him a look that feels too fatherly to be comfortable. As if to say he has the patience to wait out Tobias’ stupidity.

Tobias growls. “…Fine.”

Beck releases him, and Tobias sits up on the floatzel’s stomach. The water type is long and flat, admittedly perfect for ferrying passengers.

Nori slips over the boat next, into the gentle current with a quiet splash. Then Cordelia and Cas. After that, Cordelia yells up at the boat until Ignatius stops hollering about dying on solid ground where sane fire types belong. Then the torkoal tumbles over the edge in his shell for Nori to catch and hike carefully onto her back.

Finally, Carnelian peers over the edge, shaking visibly even from here. Nia is clearly trying to soothe the sableye, but whatever she says must work, because he eventually hauls himself over the side of the boat with jerky movements. Nia climbs out after him, watching the sableye’s feet and murmuring reassurances.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Nia, watch your own paws!”

It’s a clumsy effort, but the two of them manage to slide down the boat in fits and starts. Beck drifts closer and Tobias holds onto the boat so the floatzel can roll over onto his belly. Then all three of them climb atop his wet back—Tobias in front, with Nia and Carnelian behind.

“Everyone good?” Cordelia calls. She’s treading water easily, Cas perched on her back.

Irritation gnaws at Tobias as the croconaw takes charge, but he nods.

“Keep an eye out for ferals,” Cordelia adds. She swims forward to take the lead, but hesitates and glances at the quaxly over her shoulder, clearly not wanting him to be in the first line of defense.

Tobias takes their chance. He gives the thick orange fur below him two pats, before anyone else can try to take point. Beck hesitates, but eventually obeys, moving forward to lead the group down the corridor with a near-silent lap of water.

Aside from the gentle rush of the stream, the air is silent. It feels even more tense now that they’re in the dungeon proper.

Tobias leans back to murmur to Nia, “I’ll keep an eye on the water since I have sharper eyes. You take above.”

Nia nods.

Their group drifts down the corridor and around the corner. Halfway down the next hallway, the terrain slopes up to grassy, muddy land before dipping back into the water again. Looks like they’ll be traversing a dungeon of streams and islands.

Lovely.

When they reach land, Nia and Tobias slip off Beck's back to stand on their own feet. The ground underfoot is damp and sticky with mud between smooth river stones and long patches of lush grass. Tobias tries not to let his distaste with the damp environment show as he takes lead, Nia right behind him.

So far no ferals, but Tobias can see Nia’s ears twisting and turning to catch distant sounds out of the corner of his eye.

“What kind of Pokemon do you think we’ll run into here?” Nia whispers.

Beck answers from right behind them. “It’ll be the Pokemon who live near the river, right? So water types for sure. Otherwise, likely grass and bug. Normal. Some dark types.”

Tobias flicks his tail. Most of those types shouldn’t be an issue, but the water types could be a pain for him. He’ll have to watch out for them.

Once they reach the stream on the other side, the group wordlessly moves back into their previous formation. Tobias grudgingly climbs atop Beck’s back in front of Nia as they wait for Carnelian to scramble on behind them. The floatzel slips into the water, and Tobias hears Cordelia and Nori follow behind.

They don’t run into their first feral until they reach the next patch of land, luckily in the same room as the stairs. The staircase sits eerily in the corner of the room, cutting off into nothingness six or seven steps up. They’re made of wood like Cordelia’s boat, with chipping paint to match.

The feral standing in their way is a thwackey nearly twice their size. It screeches with blank white eyes when it sees them, then launches at their group with sharp fangs bared.

Tobias and Nia rush forward to intercept. Nia is faster, and ducks low to kick out a leg and topple the grass type into the dirt. Tobias takes the opportunity to engulf it in a cloud of embers. The thwackey screeches and skitters back on four legs.

Nia hesitates on her follow-up attack, probably caught up in her own head again. Not that Tobias can blame her this time—it’s hard to think that this thwackey was probably a regular Pokemon living their life just an hour ago, and now—

Not thinking about it.

The thwackey wipes embers out of its eyes and goes at Nia with fists swinging. Nia creates a staff of aura and blocks the attack with a grunt. Tobias takes the opening while it’s turned away to breathe a plume of fire onto his hands. Then he darts forward to slash at the thwackey’s back with heated claws. 1-2-3-4—

The thwackey cries out, stumbling. Before Nia and Tobias can attack again, the feral spins and crashes off through the foliage, down one of the dungeon's hallways.

Tobias huffs out a breath, snuffing his fire down to smoke. He glances at Nia to make sure she isn’t injured, then back at the rest of their crew.

Beck is blinking at them, halfway into a battle stance and clearly surprised. Cas' eyes are starry, and even Cordelia looks a bit impressed with them.

“Not bad,” the Croconaw says. “Guess you two are a bit tougher than you look.”

Tobias rolls his eyes despite the warmth spreading in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Everyone just hold hands already so we can go to the next floor.”

Cordelia looks sour once he repeats the command and she realizes he’s serious. Only the explanation that they might lose each other warping to the next floor makes her acquiesce.

Tobias climbs the stairs first, Nia right behind him. When Tobias reaches the top creaky step, his stomach turns with vertigo and their surroundings shift. In a blink, they’ve warped to a location that is eerily similar but distinctly different in its layout.

Unfortunately, they also warp to a room that is almost entirely covered in water. Tobias lets out an embarrassing yelp as he falls under with a splash. The gentle current feels freezing against his hot skin, and the immediate wave of prickling pain knocks the breath from his lungs.

A strong arm scoops him up and out of the water before he can thrash for more than a second. In a whirl of movement, Tobias finds himself still drenched but out of the water. He cracks his eyes open, panting hard and shuddering through shocks of pain. His clenched hands hold onto thick, creamy fur.

“Tobias!” Nia coughs, seated atop Beck’s stomach as well and dripping audibly. “Are you all right?”

Tobias wipes his mouth with a shaky hand. Ugh. “Fantastic.”

Nia’s paw lands lightly on his shoulder, but even that touch feels overly sensitive and raw. He jerks away with a hiss and she whispers a string of apologies.

Tobias takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart. As the water falls off his body, the painful burn on his skin starts to die down to a more manageable ache. Finally, he looks around.

Beck, lying on his back, is watching Tobias with concern. Nia, sitting next to him on the floatzel’s belly, wears a similar expression. Carnelian is shivering as far away as he can get on their makeshift raft, tipping his backpack to clear it of water.

Nori seems to have caught Ignatius before the torkoal could get similarly dunked. Cas is floating anxiously next to Cordelia in the water. Most everyone’s eyes are on Tobias, so he flushes and forces himself to sit up straight so he can look around.

They’re in a room filled with stream water, the surface finally calming down after their sudden entrance. Two hallways branch off on either side.

“Everyone all right?” Tobias rasps.

Cordelia arches a brow. “You’re asking us?”

Tobias takes that as affirmation and scowls down one hallway, then the other. There really isn’t any rhyme or reason to how he and Nia usually pick directions in dungeons, so he points Beck in the direction of the one he sees grasses poking out of farther down.

“We can wait here a moment for you to catch your breath,” Beck starts.

Tobias shakes his head. “We shouldn’t. It’s best to keep moving in a dungeon or we might get ambushed. I’m fine. Go.”

Beck’s gaze flicks to Nia. The riolu looks like she wants to agree with Beck, but Tobias gives her a hard look so she doesn’t argue.

Finally, Beck swims down the pointed direction. Cordelia and Nori follow quietly behind. When they reach land, Tobias gratefully stumbles onto the marshy ground. His limbs are still a bit shaky and his skin feels tight and uncomfortable, but he’s fine all in all.

A rustle ahead is their only warning before a new, bipedal green Pokemon shambles out of the grass, something oddly rhythmic to its steps. The lilypad atop its head and its bright pink beak tip Tobias off.

“Lombre,” he hisses, he and Nia moving into defensive stances. “Water and grass type.”

The lombre chitters aggressively when it sees them with its milky eyes. It lunges. Nia meets it head-on with a burst of aura, then dances out of range.

The lombre turns on Tobias and sucks in a breath, clearly about to spit out a water type move. Tobias braces to dodge.

They're interrupted by the sound of crashing water, and then a bright blue streak slams into the lombre and sends it rolling into the tall grass. Tobias blinks, stunned, as blue water splatters to the ground and Beck cuts off his aqua jet attack to land on four paws.

Beck glances at Tobias and opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by a bright green ball of energy as it shoots from the safety of the grass and hits him hard. The floatzel stumbles back into the wall of the dungeon, then slides down to the ground.

“Beck!” Nia calls, distraught.

Nori is already moving to Beck’s side, so Tobias decides she can handle that. He focuses back on the fight with the lombre, only to hear a startled squeak from behind him, near the back of their group.

He looks just in time to see a blue Pokemon—a tirtouga?—spitting attacks at Cordelia and Cas. Cas hides behind Cordelia as she turns on the tirtouga with a snarl.

“I got ‘em!” Nia shouts, using quick attack to flash past Tobias. She leaps out over the water, staff arcing high over her head, and Tobias has a good feeling she’s going to hit her mark.

Tobias turns back to his own fight as a water gun shoots from the grass, narrowly missing him. He growls. If his opponent is hiding, he should just burn the feral's cover to the ground. But lombre are half water type and the grass is probably too wet to catch, so—

Dragon rage it is.

Tobias sucks in a lungful of air and releases it in a stream of purple fire. The flames catch on the damp grass much easier than regular fire would, quickly scaring the lombre out.

Tobias takes his shot amidst the feral’s panic and shoots off another dragon rage. The lombre shrieks under the fresh onslaught. Tobias rushes forward and spins, slamming the feral into the dungeon wall with his tail.

Tobias pants in the ensuing quiet, watching the lombre for a moment to be sure it’s down. Then he looks behind him.

Nia is paddling through the stream back towards land, waterlogged but no worse for wear. Cordelia pulls her out. The little quaxly in her arms is clearly spooked but seems unharmed.

Nia hurries immediately to Beck’s side, kneeling across from Nori. “Is he all right?”

The floatzel groans at the sound of her voice, eyes fluttering open. His gaze is bleary and unfocused.

“Beck?” Nia prompts.

The floatzel closes his eyes, scrunching up his snout. “‘M fine, Hazel. Stop worrying. Where’re the kids?”

Nia stills. She stares at Beck with a stunned expression. “H-Hazel?”

“His mate,”  Nori says, watching the way Beck is blinking back to reality. “I suppose you do sound a bit like her.”

“His mate,” Nia murmurs, frowning. Tobias can tell that this info means something to her. The name Hazel is actually tickling something in the back of his mind, too, though he can't quite pin it down.

Cas escapes Cordelia’s protective hold and scampers to Beck’s side. “Are you okay, Beck?”

Something about the quaxly’s voice seems to clear Beck's mind. The floatzel shakes his head and slowly props himself up on his arms. He gives Cas a shaky smile. "I’m fine, dewdrop.”

“I’ll decide if you’re fine,” Nori says, pushing Beck back down with a webbed hand against his chest. “Follow my finger.”

Beck sighs but patiently follows her instructions as she checks for a concussion. Once she deems him safe to move, Beck climbs to his feet with a groan, using the shifting wall of mud and grasses to stand.

Good. He’s up. That means Tobias can chew him out.

“Beck.”

“Yeah?”

“What was that?!” Tobias snaps. “I told you to stay back and let us handle the fighting!”

Beck winces. “I…was worried about you facing a water type. Especially right after falling in.”

Tobias jerks an angry thumb over his shoulder.

Beck follows the gesture. Smoke is rising from the ashes of the large patch of grass Tobias just burned, purple embers still sparkling. The lombre is knocked out cold to the side.

“Riolu one-hit KO’d a tirtouga, too,” Cordelia laughs, glancing over her own shoulder to the water.

Beck blinks, then barks a laugh. “Well. Suppose I look a bit foolish right now.”

“…What.”

“You two said you could handle yourselves, and it looks like you were right. Sorry for doubting you.”

Nia beams. “That's all right! I know we’re not, uh...all that intimidating.”

"Speak for yourself," Tobias grumbles, rubbing at his face. Unsatisfied anger burns in his belly as all the wind leaves his sails. It doesn’t feel right to go on a tirade if the floatzel just…immediately apologizes. “Whatever. Just…don’t do it again.”

“Not planning to. That knock to the noggin hurt.”

“We should rethink how we travel,” Nori says, her quiet voice heavy enough to cut through their conversation. “If we continue this way, we have to worry about the back half of the group getting ambushed.”

“Yeah,” Nia agrees, frowning.

Tobias and Nia haven’t really taken many escort missions through dungeons—and especially not with a group this large—so they didn’t think about it beforehand, but…

“You’re right. We need a better formation,” Tobias says, crossing his arms. “Who here has experience fighting? Actual fighting, not just friendly spars.”

Nia, ridiculously, raises her paw. Tobias gives her a dry look until she lowers it again.

Cordelia snorts. “I can fight if I have to, but my first priority is keeping an eye on Cas and my crew.”

Tobias nods. “That works. Cas will stay in the middle of the group, so stick with him.”

Cas pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Nori and I are in decent shape, but we aren’t used to fighting often,” Beck says. “As you just saw.”

Ignatius puffs a wisp of smoke. “Hate to say it, but I’m probably as weak as Cas at my age.”

Tobias nods, looking between everyone and calculating. With Nia’s abysmal sense of direction, Tobias needs to be in the front of the group to direct them. But they do need someone to watch their backs, too, and Tobias trusts no one else but Nia for that. The most vulnerable members should be sandwiched in the middle when possible.

“In that case, I’ll take point. Nia, you take back. Cas, Cordelia, Ignatius and, uh…Carnelian. You all need to be in the middle. Beck and Nori, you flank me and Nia.”

“And when we’re in the water?” Beck asks.

Tobias hesitates.

“Well, we can’t do the same formation in the water,” Nia says, half to herself. She jumps when she realizes all eyes have turned to her. “C-Could we swap?  Have Ignatius rides with Tobias and Beck up front and Carnelian and I go to the back with Nori? That way we don’t have to rearrange much when we get to land.”

To Tobias’ surprise, no one questions the idea, seeming to agree with both of their judgment calls.

After checking that Beck is good to go, they form up. Nia takes the rear, giving Tobias a thumbs-up. Nori moves in front of her with a quiet comment that makes her smile. Carnelian shuffles nervously in front of them, clutching his backpack close. Then it’s Cordelia, the croconaw keeping little Cas right in front of her, then Ignatius. Finally, Beck stands right behind Tobias, the floatzel acting as a taller lookout. He gives him a nod, all his previous uncertainty with Tobias’ abilities seemingly gone.

Huh. Tobias feels kind of proud about how well that went. He’s still uneasy about how large of a group they’re leading through, but they’ll just have to try their best and hope they make it out with minimal injuries.

“All right,” Tobias says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “Let’s go.”

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

Dizzie angst? 🥺🥺

Look no hate to Dexven buuuutttt I’m kinda glad for a breath of fresh air and what’s better than some good angst

Anyway depending on how many new commissions I get will determine when I post my special announcement but as of right now it should be out by next Saturday

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!

——————————

Lizzie gathered her things before throwing a glare at Sparrow, shouting “of with your head!” As she pivoted on her heel, stepping on the glass of the broken beaker before she left.

Sparrow rolled his eyes while watching the princess leave. He scoffed, it wasn’t even his fault the piston exploded, Lizzie just didn’t know how to appreciate his music.

Stomping off, he made his way to the table his friends were sat at. He made a big show of throwing his things down as he shouted “I hate Lizzie Hearts!”

What he didn’t realize was that Lizzie had also been heading to a different table near by and heard him say that.

She paused hiding behind a pillar as she saw her boyfriend, Daring perk up. She thought he was going to defend her even if it was just a little.

Just because she said that their relationship had to be kept a secret doesn’t meant that she didn’t expect him to stand up for her at times like this, even if it was a little.

“She’s so entitled and acts like a snooty little princess and because of what!” Lizzie clicked her tongue, carefully watching as Daring straightened.

“I mean I see why you failed at getting her to go on a date with you Daring. She’s a nightmare!” Lizzie felt her blood run cold as she heard what her boyfriend said it return.

“I know right! Total nightmare, I mean talk about being a spoiled brat! How could she resist me!” Lizzie didn’t see it, but as the words left Darings mouth he silently winced.

“You know one time I asked her to move her foot so I can pass by and she yelled- ‘off with your head!’ Like just move your foot.” Everyone at the table laughed at Darings comment, the sound attracting attention from everyone.

“Sometimes I wonder if her voice ever gets tired of all that shrillyness.” As the comments and remarks kept coming in, Lizzie felt herself closing in.

But as she noticed Kitty approaching her, she took a steady breath and held her head high as she walked past Daring and his friends.

As she did from the corner of her eye she could see that fear and anxiety set into Daring, because he knew that she heard and he knew that she’d never forgive him.

But maybe she would have let him explain himself if he stopped his friends from laughing and whispering as she passed by.

—

Lizzie slumped against the well of wonders, her head buried in her hands. Sometimes when she was upset she’d sit next to the well of wonders and pretend she was sitting next to her mother.

With the curse on wonderland this really was the closest she could be to her mother, and to Alistair and Bunny she thought.

Generally she tried not to think about her mum or her two friends that were still stuck in wonderland. It only upset her more.

Her peace and thinking were suddenly broken when heavy footsteps approached her. “Lizzie?” Darings voice was hesitant as if she was one of those dragon he had to slay.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance at his disturbance, why couldn’t she just be left alone when she wanted to be?

Daring called her name again, this time sitting beside her but a far away distance. Lizzie caught herself before she could say ‘off with your head!’ His words ringing in her ear.

“Please just let me explain. Lizzie please.” He tried to grab her hand but she snatched it away, her anger simmering rapidly.

“There is nothing to explain you made yourself quite clear.” Daring flinched at her clipped, cold voice yet still continued.

“You have to understand that I had to.” As soon as the words left his mouth Lizzie’s anger reached surface level. The fuck did he mean ‘he had to’?

“I know you did not just say that.” Her voice was but a growl as she now stood, her figure imposing on him.

“You know I had to Lizzie! They would get suspicious if I defended you.” She knew he was right but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“The funny thing is- is that I felt like you enjoyed dating those things about me. You didn’t stop after the first comment or the second or-.”

“One comment wasn’t going to convince them and you know it.” The bite in Darings voice had Lizzie’s anger now tipping over the edge. She sick and tired of him making excuses for everything he did.

Even if ‘he had to’ say those nasty things about her, she didn’t understand why he was here making excuses for himself rather than apologizing.

It only made it seem that the only reason why he was even here was because he saw she was hurt by it. Lizzie doubted if he would even be here if he didn’t know she heard.

“You know what Daring I’m sick and tired of your- your attitude! You say I’m the entitled, snooty princess get here you are making excuses for yourself!” Daring went to interrupt but she threw him a glare.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be half as mad if you had apologized for what you said instead of making excuses because at the end of the day you could half done something to defend your girlfriend’s honor.”

As the words left her mouth Daring stood while taking slow steps towards her. He had a regretful expression on his handsome face, one nobody was used to seeing.

Lizzie let him take her hand in his own as he pulled her in. “I know. Lizzie you are right and from now on I promise to stop making g excuses for my actions and to defend you against any harmful actions.”

If only Daring Charming was better at keeping promises.

—————————

This is one of my favorite couples to write angst about idk it just works sooo well

Anyway was watching the Olympic ceremony thing and idk you guys I feel like they dragged it on for toooooo long but that’s just my opinion

Hope you enjoyed and have great dayy!!

[crows-of-buckets]

I have a little headcanon that, before my Surana fully took the arcane warrior specialization, Zevran and Alistair took a few weeks to teach her how to at least hold a blade without sending it directly into her foot. Alistair taught her the longsword, and since she dual wields, Zevran taught her how best to fight with two blades

[atomic-taco-muffin]

Could I request for (Ever after high) Alistair x male reader that is twins with Kitty?

M!reader is a playful, independent, flirty and can be really mean, he loves causing mischief, he directly follows in Cheshire's foot steps.

They at first don't like each other considering how rude reader is but after time they start liking each other (maybe bc Alistair saves readers life or sm)

This is so cute, oh my gods

Alistair x M!Reader: Rivals

Warnings: Pure, cloud made fluff, Alistair being a cutie-patootie

Rating: SFW

(he looks so sassy)

You and Alistair have known each other since you were kids in Wonderland. And the both of you had hated each other. Alistair hated how mean you got with your pranks. Sure you were the son of the Cheshire Cat but you could have toned it down a bit at least. You hated Alistair for always having to ruin the mood and stand up against you. When you moved with your twin sister, Kitty, to Ever After High, you were thrilled having to never see his stupid face again. And during the first year or two, it was peaceful. Until, one year, Alistair just had to show his face with that stupid Bunny Blanc.

"Ugh, of all faces, it had to be you," You grumbled as you rolled your eyes.

"Still causing mischief or have you finally learned to be nice?" Alistair replied. You scoffed and turned your head away, not wanting to look at his stupid face. His stupid, yet pretty face. Woah! What were you thinking?! You hate Alistair! Why are you thinking romantic thoughts about him? Throughout the next few weeks saving Wonderland, your mind continued to think about Alistair and how pretty and handsome he actually was. But your distracted mind nearly cost you your life when Courtly Jester fired a spell at your direction. Thankfully, you were quickly pushed out of the way by none of than your rival, Alistair. The two of you rolled to the side and you found him on top of you.

"Uh, s-sorry," Alistair said with a blush.

"Don't be," you replied and then pulled him into a kiss, much to his and everyone else's surprise. The two were then rudely interrupted when Raven signed the Book of Destiny and began fighting Courtly. After Raven had won, Wonderland was now saved. As you and your friends were heading back to Ever After, Alistair stopped you by gently grabbing your wrist.

"I um...I love you," he said with a blush. You blushed as well but gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too," you said.

"Promise you'll visit?"

"I will if you visit Ever After." Alistair smiled and nodded before giving you a soft kiss on your lips.

"I'll see you then," he said. You nodded and headed back to Ever After with everyone else, smiling at the mental image of you and Alistair kissing.

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

Decided to draw Alistair Crump's second wife into her own little character because she deserves to be one and have her own personality. Her name is Joanna and she has sectoral heterocromia.

More About Her:

Joanna was a woman born into a poor family and caught the eye of Alistiar Crump when filling in for her sick father's job as his gardener . This was due to the count of her abnormal and unique yet lovely personality and appearance.

Being the charismatic man that he is, as well as promising the woman wealth and comfort for her very few remaining family, Joanna agreed to marry the man.

She was also was made to wear a veil since Alistair claimed he wanted to be the only one who could look at her lovely face. Which being rather odd and possessive behavior Joanna still complied since she herself was somewhat self conscious about her appearance.

For the first seven years of their marriage, everything went smoothly as they loved contently with once another. But by year eight, more problems began to arose, which soon turned into Alistiar having an affair with another woman.

When Alistair hung up the picture is when she finally decided to put her foot down and tell Alistiar that she wanted a divorce. Which did not go over well since Alistiar went into a " If I can't have you no one can" type of mood before stabbing her and burring her body in the Gardens where they first met.