#now he's out in the world and we're meeting other characters and he's doing all sorts of shit in the middle east and north africa

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  / Prologue

Chapter One

Two and Half Years Later…

“What have we got?”

Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.

“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”

“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.

“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”

“Mom?”

“Deceased.”

“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”

Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.

“Are you the detectives?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”

“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”

“Does she often walk by herself to school?”

The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”

“But not today?” Killian inquired.

“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.

“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.

“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”

The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.

“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”

“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”

“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.

The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.

Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.

Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.

Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.

When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.

Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.

“I’ve got something!”

Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.

“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”

“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”

Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.

“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”

Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”

Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.

Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.

“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”

“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.

Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”

“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They’d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”

“How about Aesop’s?”

Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”

Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”

“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”

~/~

“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”

Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.

“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”

Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.

“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.

“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”

“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.

When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.

She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.

She woged.

Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?

No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…

No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?

Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.

Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.

“Did you see that?”

Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”

“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”

“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.

He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?

“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.

“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”

Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”

For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…

“We got a boot print!”

Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.

It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!

“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”

It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.

“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.

“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”

“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”

“Go on.”

Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.

“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”

“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”

Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.

“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”

“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”

“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”

“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”

It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.

There had to be a way of finding this monster.

Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.

This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.

“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”

Typical.

Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.

“Will? What you got?”

“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”

“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”

“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”

“You think it was the postman?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”

“Will do.”

A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.

If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?

Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.

Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.

His prayer was answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”

~/~

The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.

He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.

Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.

A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.

Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.

“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”

“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.

The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”

“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”

“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”

Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”

Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”

Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.

Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.

“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”

Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.

“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.

“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”

“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”

“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”

A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”

“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”

“As in… fully?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been intense for all of you.”

“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”

“Until?”

Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.

“So… you made it through your first full moon.”

“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”

“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”

“For?”

“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”

Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”

Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.

It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.

“That was…”

It was a big fucking mistake.

“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”

Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.

“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”

“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”

“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”

She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.

“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”

“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”

“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”

“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”

“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”

“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”

“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”

“The feelings are still there?”

Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”

“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”

Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.

“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”

“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”

Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”

“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”

“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”

Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”

“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”

“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.

“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”

“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”

“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”

Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.

“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”

The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”

“Then… you’ll help me?”

Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”

A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”

Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”

Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.

“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”

Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”

Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.

Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”

“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”

“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”

“I don’t see why it would.”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.

“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”

Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”

Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.

“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”

Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.

Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”

Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”

“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”

Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”

Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”

“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”

“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”

“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”

“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”

With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.

“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.

“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”

“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.

The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”

“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”

Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.

You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--

Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.

“Killian? What is it?”

Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.

“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.

“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.

His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”

Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”

“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”

Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”

“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”

She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.

“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”

“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.

It would be a lie, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”

“So?”

Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”

“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.

“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”

“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”

His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”

His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”

“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”

“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”

“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”

He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.

“As you wish.”

Chapter Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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[theothin]

Copying over my comment from this post since the original now has reblogs turned off:

It's interesting to consider all of this in full context of how Toshiro is framed in the scene. The argument starts with Toshiro insisting that Marcille was wrong to revive Falin with black magic and that she should go back with him to face punishment from elvish society, then get their help in putting Falin to rest. Laios argues that they can actually help Falin, and that eating properly gives them the strength to pull it off, at which point Toshiro tries to shut Laios down by throwing his past frustrations in his face. When Laios eventually overpowers Toshiro, he attributes it to his party taking proper care of themselves, at which point Senshi shows up to offer Toshiro food. Meanwhile, Maizuru expresses frustration at Toshiro's behavior, and when Toshiro talks about his out-of-the-blue proposal to Falin, Mickbell questions why he would do something like that, while Chilchuck remarks that it's the kind of world he lives in. Every part of Toshiro's position here comes across as antithetical to the protagonists and the quest we're following them on. Even other characters present don't seem to think much of his behavior here. And, while playing that antagonistic role, we see him imposing those social standards on someone who finds them confusing and alienating. The result is that the primary lens through which the viewer is encouraged to see the scene is that of an autistic person being berated for not living up to a set of social standards, and in particular not meeting the standards of Japanese society. And while a Japanese audience might find it easier to understand why Toshiro thinks the way he does, the scene is very clear in sending the message that he is wrong and that, as previous comments noted, he's been stuck in a mindset that's hurting both him and Laios. The outcome of the fight suggests that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about food - and I think the audience is also meant to feel that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.

And the addition from @delvinanaris:

More than that, Toshiro’s last line of that scene—expressing his envy of Laios—suggests that he, too, feels that he would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.

Also here's the original tweet and a great comment on it:

[felassan]

Snippets.

A user asked if there are instances wherein Rook will be referred to by their last name. "Yes, there are places where we refer to Rook by their last name. It's very contextual - we don't want to awkwardly insert a reference in where it doesn't make sense - but it does happen, though it is going to be more common with some backgrounds than others."

Q. "Does Solas have a type of tea he doesn't mind as much as others? Or are all of them equally detestable?" A. "Orange zinger."

A user asked about the ages of the companions. "We're not getting into specifics right yet, but the companions cover a broad range of ages and experience. They're all pretty established in the world and in their expertise by the time you meet them, though. You are recruiting a team of experts after all."

You can have body tattoos!

John Epler: "Echoing Corinne, the last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind but also incredibly rejuvenating. I'm so excited to share more with y'all."

A user stated "There are no restrictions on lineage/faction/class combinations other than dwarves cannot be mages". Corinne added "Correct. I've really been enjoying the different combinations."

Q. "Will the gender identity of a trans/non-binary Rook be acknowledged in game by other characters? (beyond just pronouns I mean)". A. "There are moments when you can disclose and discuss, however, disclosure remains the right of the individual so you have to make that choice for yourself." (!!)

Re: release date. ''Exact date has not yet been revealed. Fall 2024 is as much as we can say right now.''

''Lots of great cameos in the game, but I'm not going to spoil anything. You'll have to play to see who shows up for yourself.''

''We can't reveal our upcoming marketing beats or media presence just yet. Stay tuned.''

Q. ''Can companion AI be customized - ie. DAO/DA2 style tactics or even something like Aggressive -> Defensive'' A. ''Very different system this time around. In the skill trees you can affect their behaviors, like setting you up for combos, or auto-healing you when health gets low. Each Companion is a little different mechanically.''

Q. ''Will we get the option to give our Rook more fantastical hair colors, like purple, blue, pink?''. A. ''Yes''

Q. ''How about heterochromatic eyes?'' A. ''Yes''

Corinne: ''We're so excited too! As much as I've played, I absolutely cannot wait to do my first playthrough when the game is out. Also cannot wait to hear about all of your decisions and experiences.''

Q. ''Will I be able to make a short qunari and a tall dwarf or are there limits to that? Do the qunari have to be buff?'' A. ''There are limitations, of course... but yes, you can make a Dwarf that is tall or a Qunari that is short, relative to their lineage. We stan the skinny Qunari''

Corinne: ''Need to get back to it, all. But it's always a pleasure to check-in and see the great questions. We'll do this again soon :)''

[source: the official BioWare Discord]

(emphasis mine)

[xjulixred45x]

OKAY MY LAST INVINCIBLE POST BEFORE DEDICATING TO REQUESTS FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH DON'T KILL ME! THIS TIME IT'S FLUFF!

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Starfire!Reader

Imagine being an alien similar to DC's Starfire, you can follow the original line of the character (I follow more than anything the one from the comics or the 2003 series) where your planet was conquered by another race (thanks to your sister) Or you can go the more "family friendly" line, which is that you decided to explore the world outside your home planet but ended up in the hands of some kind of intergalactic trafficking network.

I imagine that if it is the first case, it is most likely that your race has been conquered by the Viltrumite themselves, which caused a MASSACRE to occur from which you and your sister were miraculously able to escape.

Regardless of what you choose, you ended up on Earth, although having gone through great traumatic events, so when you see this new world, with a strange species, you begin to attack by mere instinct (like what Starfire did in the first chapter of Teen Titans)

That's when Mark or rather INVINCIBLE appears.

He tries to fight you at first, get you away from the civilians, that is until he realizes how scared you are (especially if we're talking about the case of the Viltrumite invasion and you realize that Mark IS a Viltrumite). So he tries to change his strategy and try to calm you down as much as he can.

When he succeeds, he ends up taking you to the Globe's guardians to see what to do. I imagine that you are a little different than the original Starfire, you are more scared and defensive in this situation, at first you only trusted Mark.

For this reason, Cecil decides that you will stay in the Pentagon until they know what to do with you. Mark helps you learn the "normal" things of the Earth and show Cecil that you are not a threat.

(if you had to learn the human language by "lip contact" the whole team definitely makes fun of Mark a little for being in love now).

Imagine Mark and Eve bringing you clothes to try on!🥺Eve probably just created it out of nowhere, but she also brings clothes that her parents give her that she doesn't want and for some reason you like.

Mark offers to help you train! At first he tries to go easy on you, but when you almost knock him out with your laser beams, he learns his lesson.

He definitely takes you out to eat junk food! More when he realizes that the Pentagon's food doesn't help you much because of your big appetite. Mark was surprised at how much food you could eat but luckily Cecil pays for it (just don't tell him yet🤫)

Definitely one of Mark's favorite things about you, when you're over the trauma, is your innocent attitude, even after all, you're very bubbly and friendly. which is at least difficult to find in your line of work, so he wants to keep that part of yourself as much as possible.

Mark definitely took you to meet his mother, at first he was a little nervous that she wouldn't accept you after what happened with his father, but surprisingly Debbie took it very well.

Thanks to this you were able to learn more about the culture of the Earth, you constantly asked Debbie about the places she had seen, what they were like and their culture (even some anecdotes about Mark when he was a child), and with your bubbly and youthful attitude she did not It was difficult for Debbie to warm to you easily.

Apart from that it helped you fall in love with the Earth quite quickly, see its beauty for yourself, which encouraged you to be your own version of a hero.

When you want to become a heroine, Mark enters into an internal conflict. On the one hand, he KNOWS very well that you don't want someone to make decisions for you, he respects that, but on the other hand, he is TERRIFIED by the possibility that you will get hurt, captured, or lose COMPLETLY your being or worse, DIE.

It is probably thanks to this conversation that you two become a couple.

In general, at first Mark tries to do your first patrols with you to teach you the basics, then he lets you do whatever you want, and he is SO PROUD when you beat someone.

"THAT IS MY GIRL!" kind of proud.

He definitely really likes flying with you and just wandering, at least he feels like there you two have more privacy. Apart from that he likes how you look in your element. according to him.

If you talk about the first case of origin that I mentioned at the beginning and your sister comes back, Mark sees through ALL the red flags and will be the first to warn you about her, since he went through something similar with his family, you don't want to go through that.

If both fight together, POWER COUPLE. LITERAL. You have certain skills that Mark doesn't, so they complement each other very well.

If Mark gets hurt, you go into RAMPAGE MODE and honestly? Mark doesn't know if he should be scared or more in love. or excited.

If YOU get hurt GOD HELP US, MARK IS ANGRY---someone is going to have a bad time. And You a Lot of cuddles.

Overall, both of them are like two Golden Retrievers being happy together.

@clemberryfriends

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome

[elizabethrobertajones]

kriles summer trust top is kinda problematic tho... lalafell r smol and should be wholesome.

Aw, come on.

I'm sorry but I have to disagree because within the fiction, lalafell are just as mean, gross and horny as anyone else. Gegeruju is a perv, and the whole Ul'dah Syndicate is full of evil little bastards. On the good side, lala are just as complex and grown up as anyone else - Tataru courts followers and dances in a skimpy outfit in the Forgotten Knight, Giott is a roaring drunk stereotypical fantasy dwarf (not to mention whatever the heck is going on with the Tomra and Komra dwarves in general tbh :P). And Lamitt's story was sweet but it did involve her having adult feelings for Ardbert.

Like, really, I can only think of 4 completely wholesome lala out of a cast of hundreds, and they happen to mostly be the ones we've interacted with a lot (Nanamo; Pipin who is a Heroic Knight archetype; Papalymo, who was a grumpy old scholar man; Krile). But that's more about them being main characters serving roles in the narrative rather than indicative of how lalas behave as a whole. In fact after going through ARR, meeting Pipin and finding One Good Ul'dahn Lala is an enormous relief (since the other one is apparently dead now).

And Krile is a main character now so she's allowed to step out of the shadow of being uwu cat hoodie girl who wasn't written with much depth outside of being serious and earnest and rather spooky; she's actually 22 years old according to the first wiki I found - regardless of if that's totally accurate she's definitely meant to be a peer of the other adult Scions and they all treat her like an adult. Her introduction cutscene has her ribbing Alphy as an older friend laughing at how a much younger one used to behave, so we're supposed to immediately understand on meeting her that she's post-teen since she knew 11 year old Alphy and was of course older than him since he was a freak entry into the Studium at that age. Probably a necessary writing moment because establishing lala's age with hilarious moustaches or deep voices or whatever is a part of how the game has to present them.

Out of the fiction, I know lalas are part of a much wider trope that people do find problematic as a whole (e.g. just because in universe Tataru has babes across the globe and that's normal to everyone involved, who are consenting adults in a world which wholly understands Tataru as a consenting adult, is it actually really creepy that it's happening at all because her body type is toddler-esque? Is it weird in general that lala emotes are SO baby in the same way miqo emotes are SO kitty?

ffxiv definitely goes waaay further into borderline creepy territory than many games with smaller fantasy races in it, when it comes to how lala look, so yeah I know it's a fraught area and can be discomforting to see the game present child-shaped people as having adult desires and a thing some people understandably set aside along with other elements as things they're not happy with co-existing in the game with things they really love.) We can absolutely talk about that on a meta level of how we relate to the game and feel about it, just like things we find racist or uncomfortable in other ways e.g. eng translation Hien's treatment of Yotsuyu being a really problematic point.

But, that's one thing, versus talking about us here in fandom and how we relate to it, and I think your ask is, well, really not very deeply considered on any level, but I think is talking about how we as fandom relate to lalas, based on an inaccurate reading of them in the game, meaning you're really not even analysing a thing about it and therefore your ask comes more in the terms of policing how we should FEEL about Krile's beach outfit, and dictating that we SHOULD find lalas smol and wholesome, and that therefore there's an inherent problem in anyone reacting positively to the outfit, rather than critiquing its place in the game in the first place. Having hit a cognitive dissonance in seeing swimsuit Krile existing you've come to me to complain it's problematic rather than taking any actual meaningful action. Ergo, this is a fandom problem to you, not a game problem. WE should find it problematic and say so, you are implying, shocked that so many people looked at a post about the beach outfits and no one commented as such.

Aside from lalafell being fictional and at no point other than the visuals are they treated as children (and emotes aside, playing through the MSQ as a lala wol you easily fall into seeing them as an adult because of course all the cutscenes share the same level of gravitas no matter what you're playing or what clown costume you have on any player), there ARE actually real humans who are built somewhere closer to lala than not, and would be drawn to playing any of the smaller races in a game (like, gnomes in WoW, halflings in D&D, etc) because that's just their chance at representation. And because FFXIV doesn't have anything other than precious moments doll-shaped people the look might be great in the sense that they have the proportions of a cherub statue and it is a lot harder to meet in the middle than a halfling (notoriously hairy middle aged bastards and much easier to read as adult, though that doesn't exclusively represent people who've had growth developmental differences), that IS still the only representative option some people have in the game and if they want to indulge it rather than play something else with proportions forced on them by many games, then what the hell is wrong with that?

And they WILL go to bat for lalas and get upset when people say that they have to be precious baby characters who act like children. I've seen that on tumblr: there's a whole lala community who keeps kinda low key and away from everyone else by their own admission BECAUSE as soon as they get too much attention they're deluged with hate for playing characters who have adult desires and dress fancy - or, you know, like any other random slutty elf WoL. The fact I wandered onto lala blogs at random and saw that complaint on the first pages should speak to how often they have to deal with it. And, again, within the fiction of the game their characters are completely 100% normal and doing what other lalas who are written by the game do as well. I KNOW those blogs are out there and they'd be scared of getting this exact ask, and it would greatly upset them and ruin their day and put them off having any interaction with the community, which fucking sucks. We're here to have fun!

That said I'm not a weirdo anti all up in others' business, it's also fine to just like lalas and stuff without some huge circumstantial justification like "they look like me" - or - "my IRL wife" or whatever - you can also just play a lala or ship with one and it's like, your business. If that's all you're doing and it's not a hypothetical child molester who also has a whole gallery of lala porn that the cops find when they impound the computer full of REAL CHILDREN stuff as well it's never going to be anyone else's business anyway, ever, and that's like, one hypothetical awful person for a whole fandom of normies who are just surprised by how much idk Pipin's deep voice rocked their world and changed their whole perspective on what a hot character was.

Like, granted, that one HYPOTHETICAL weirdo will make everything rancid because there are people waiting to jump on people who like lalas, but also it still won't actually change what other people are doing into being Evil just because someone who actually hurts children found lalas attractive too. That, again, was the hypothetical awful person's problem and not theirs. And in no way can we just casually imply ALL people who like lalas are just inherently going to be dangerous, like real children, or enacting a private psychodrama teetering on the edge of all that.

They could in fact be completely average and boring psychologically and also have a crush on Tataru. Or, I guess, normal amount of weird for a fandom, but basically average XD In a fictional world where these characters are treated as adults, even normal people will naturally end up drawn to them as adults because, well, that's the story that's we're all engaging in. It's not inherently a thought crime to do so, because, weirdly, thought crimes don't exist.

Also, of course, people will literally discourse that hobbits are child-coded and shouldn't be shipped or seen as sexy, despite the most famous halflings, who made the entire halfling race as a generic brand, all being middle aged, hairy, smoking, drinking, guys with normal adult desires and mindsets. I mean yeah Elijah Wood was 18 when they started filming LotR (over several years so he was Krile's age by the end :P) but also Frodo celebrated his 40th birthday before setting off on the Ring Quest in the book and he was the baby of the group aside from Pippin.

In any case, there's no fucking winning and so I can understand completely that if a fucking Hobbit from Lord of the Rings gets shit for being short, and people are getting called a perv for fancying Sam Gamgee, then why not just embrace it with a Lalafell because you're literally damned no matter what in the eyes of someone who won't meet a LOTR HOBBIT where he stands as an adult man.

There's some DEEP puritanical brainrot going on online and I don't want to be a part of it whatsoever, so it means accepting lala likers for the sake of protecting Merry and Pippin's right to be seen as hot, than like, I know which side of of the line I'm dragging my beach chair. It's not even a question. I'm defending people who think lalas are appealing.

ANYWAY none of this is my business, I don't even find lalas sexy, I just think Krile looks nice in her cute summer top and it's lovely that she's getting fashion advice from her besties, and there's a million reasons to be happy about that and for her as a character, and only miserable bastard reasons to go "aurgh aurgh it's problematic" and condemn the game and everyone who plays it just for enjoying something. Lalas are NOT smol and wholesome, they're short and people, and that's fine.

[star--nymph]

I think people forget with Cullen, and characters like Cullen, that indoctrination is a thing. We're lucky to live in an age where we have a surplus of access to resources that allow us to think critically on the structures around us, to the point where we overlook that most people won't and haven't. Cullen was raised in a backwater village where the main educators and leaders were Templars. He was likely taught scripture by Chantry Sisters, he possibly learned to read and write through them. From the day he was born, he was being taught to love and obey the Chantry with out question--and the Chantry teaches that Templars are a force of good.

So I ask you, how the hell was Cullen, at eight or thirteen years old, going to learn about the crimes of Templars? How was he going to unlearn propaganda that was fed him to him every day by people he respected and possibly loved? How was he supposed to be aware that this idolized image of Templars being the saviors of the people and even mages was a lie?

And then he gets shipped off, happily, to be trained a Templar. Again, he's put into this position where he's fed nothing but propaganda. He doesn't get a real taste of the Order being corrupted until he's out in Kinloch and he's not sure what the hell to do because what he's seeing isn't jiving with what he's been taught for nearly two decades. So yeah, he tries to justify it, he tries to have his cake and eat it too by reasoning that mages should be treated like people but also the Order wouldn't lie to him, so they must be right to act like this. The Maker always had a plan, right?

If Cullen had been lucky, maybe he could have realized earlier on that the Order was abusing mages, that he had been tricked, he could have gotten out and unlearned the bigotry that was planted inside him.

But then BAM! the Broken Circle happened and I don't see how no one gets how perfect this is for the Order? They now have a templar that is so traumatized by mages, he will literally do and say anything to justify their abuses because now? Now he's afraid.

And remember, after Origins, Cullen becomes so erratic, he has to be sent off to a Chantry to 'even him out'--where he was more than likely manipulated even further by the Chantry to be this blood thirsty agent for them. When he's shipped to Kirkwall, they could have not delivered to Meredith a better second in command.

So yeah, is it really surprising that he says shit like 'mages aren't people like you and me' when we meet him in Kirkwall? Man is sleep depraved by the looks of him, swallowing all Meredith's frenzied rhetoric on blood mages, he's seeing for himself the damage these mages are doing, he's isolated from his family, he has no actual friends, and he's living with C-PTSD among other issues. Even under the best of conditions, none of what he says or does in DA2 is surprising when you put it all together.

And yet, the man still had enough of that idealistic child left in him to realize see that Meredith was going off the deep end and that he should be protecting the mages. That's text. That's in World of Thedas. The reason why Cullen is able to turn on Meredith in the end is because he was able to see, even clouded by his fear and hatred, that what she was doing was wrong.

And all this isn't to excuse Cullen's wrongs. It's weird how every time someone brings up Cullen's history, it's assumed that it's just a justification for his actions. It's not, it's an an explanation. Cullen was a victim of the Order that became an abuser, a tool, and he is responsible for his actions.

But the thing is, by DAI, Cullen is well aware of his sins and he actively works to better himself by leaving the Order and getting off lyrium (which for most people is a death sentence). People can argue all day about whether or not Cullen's arc in DAI redeems him or was satisfying, or if he did enough to 'prove' that he was sorry or--good god--does he deserve redemption in the first place (which is such a Catholic way of looking at shit by the way; no one 'deserves' redemption; you do it to be better or you fucking don't) but the fact is that Cullen says that he wants to be better, that he sees the Order as--at the very least--flawed.

That, yes, he's still unlearning all the bigotry he held as a younger man and he's ashamed that he was like that to begin with.

You can hate him all you like, and whatever, but Cullen's story--intentionally or not--is about a man born into an oppressive society, raised to uphold its beliefs, used and abused by it, and then awakening to those lies and trying to free himself from those beliefs so he could be a better person.

And sometimes I genuinely wonder if the reason so many people hate Cullen is because they themselves might have dealt with something similar in our own oppressive society where they also had to unlearn harmful bigotry and maybe, just maybe, he hits too close to home.

[writers-potion]

Got anything for dialogue

Writing Dialogue 101

Dialogue is conversation, nothing more, nothing less. The catch is: diagloue is EDITED conversation. It must be more concise, purposeful and witty than the everyday sentences we speak, while sounding natural.

The Purpose of Dialogue

Diaglue is definitely a fiction elements that pops everything up and out. Thus, dialogue is going to have more impact than your normal paragraphs, in order to:

Characterizes/reveals motives

Sets the mood in the story

Intensifies the story conflict

Creates tension and suspense

Speeds up your scenes

Add bits of setting/backgronud

Communicates the theme

Matching the Dialogue to the Genre

The dialogue in a book should speak the reader's language. There is a type of voice that suits each genre/category of fiction, and we must understand what matches the reader expectations and rhythm of the plot we are writing.

Magical Dialogue

"Do not kill him even now. For he has not hurt me. And in any case I do not wish him to be slain in this evil mood. He was great once, of a nobel kind that we should not dare to raise our hands against." - The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkein

"As much as I want you and want to be with you and part of you, I can't rear myself away from the realness of my responsiblities." - The Bridges of Madison County, Robert James Waller

This is the language of The Hobbit, Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

When writing literary and mainstream fiction (that is targeted at the general public rather than a target audience), we need to go with what sounds real, even with a magical setting

Science fiction and fantasy can be more unreal, i.e. things like "May the Force Be With You."

In romance, magical dialogue takes on a differen form. It's magical in that it transcends the way we talk to each other in normal society. Magical in that all of it makes perfect sense and is said in such eloquent langauge that we marvel at it while at the same time knowing that if we are left to ourselves, we would say something absolutely banal.

Cryptic Dialogue

"You know, the condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, then you throw it away. The condom, I mean. Not the stranger." - Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk

This is the dialogue in literary and religious stories that dealw ith abstract ideas and vague concepts and has double meanings. Readers aren't meant to understand theses right away.

These bits of dialogue plant sublimnal messages in the reader's mind that help communicate the theme later on, ultimately making sense.

Cryptic dialogue is difficult to do well. If we're not careful, we'll end up sounding preachy, moralistic and dogmatic.

You need to be able to view the world in different perspectives.

Descriptive Dialogue

The literary, fantasy and historical story often relies on dialogue for worldbuilding (expplaining history, magic rules, etc.)

The author's goal in descriptive dialogue is to provide the reader with information. However, the character's goal cannot be sacrificed for the author's. Dialogue can still have tension and suspense and can be inserted into a scene of action so the story doesn't bog down while the readers get some info.

Shadowy Dialogue

In shadowy dialogue, the character's job is to keep the reader suspended in a state of terror/suspense. Then you periodically tighten and loosen the tension.

The key here is uncertainty. The reader cannot trust the speaker, so we're always questioning him, wondering whether he's speaking truthfully or is presenting the full picture.

Keep the tone as dark of possible, using action and background as supporting tools.

Make it cryptic, or even better, offering an omnious threat of what is to come.

Provocative Dialogue

This is the type of dialogue that conveys the theme, talking about the "universla truth" your book is trying to convey.

Readers like to be challenged in their thinking, provoked to consider other ways of thinking, and shaken up in their belief systems with a fresh perspective about the world.

Consider this example from To Kill A Mockingbird:

"...but there is one way in this country in which all men are created equal - there is one humna institution that makes a pauper the equal of a Rockfeller, the stupid man the equal of an Einstein, and the ignornant man the equal of any college president."

There is no way we can read this and not think about something that is bigger than our daily lives.

Make your readers squirm, and shock them out of their comfort zones.

Uncencored Dialogue

Uncencored dialogue in YA stories are of young people, but that doesn't mean it's filled with hip-hop words and slag.

While adults cencor themselves when they speak, teenagers haven't yet learned that skill so their dialogue is more raw, edgy and honest.

Readers of YA novels expect realism, so make it as authentic as possible. The last thing we want to is for our characters to be brash and honest, but NOT sound like they've just stepped out of Planet Way Cool.

For example:

"What if he doesn't like me back?" "You are too much of a chicken to do anything aboutit but mope."

As an adult, how often do you admit fear of rejection out loud to another, or call out your friend to her face? In YA-type of dialogue though, we can just write what comes into these characters' minds.

So that sums up the different types of dialogue. Consider the nature of your plot, what your readers and the genre of the story you are writing to choose an appropriate way for your characters to speak!

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[jjkamochoso]

Wedding Guest Plus One

Fluff

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

When you get invited to a wedding, you're reluctant to show up by yourself. Luckily, you have a friend that would never leave you hanging...

Warnings: cussing, small mentions of background characters drinking alcohol

A/n: I hope the end isn't too ooc because I couldn't resist the opportunity to write that lol I hope you all enjoy reading this much as I did writing it!! <3

The strikingly opulent invitation was weighing down your hands like it was made of lead. The painstakingly crafted calligraphy was openly mocking you: "To our beloved Y/N and Guest..."

You sighed.

It wasn't like you didn't want to go to your friend's wedding, that wasn't it at all. The event sounded like it was going to be a wonderful time, filled with good food and fun moments as love was being celebrated. It was just that this would be another wedding you'd gone to without a boyfriend or husband. Your friends were mostly nonjudgemental but you knew your continuous bout of singularity over the years was rare enough to garner speculation and gossip from anyone in attendance at those types of gatherings, especially when everyone knew each other.

You hauled yourself out of your office, leaving the frilly paper discarded on your desk to be taunted by at a later time. You quickly made your way down the hall of the Survey Corps base, knocking on the familiar wood door in front of you.

"Come in," said a voice from the opposite side and you wasted no time entering, eager to begin your venting session.

"I see you got your invite as well," you said, spying the same white rectangle upon your best friend's desk.

"I did," Levi replied, his eyes not leaving the paperwork he was currently working on.

You picked it up, inspecting it, and you frowned. "Hey, yours doesn't say Levi and guest! Mine did."

"It said Levi and guest?"

"I hate you," you whined, Levi smirking a bit at his joke. "Mine said 'Y/n and guest' and I want to know why you got spared the embarrassment of being allowed a plus one but never having one."

"That's because everyone knows by now that if I'm showing up, I'm coming alone. They still have hope for you."

"Well, I don't like it," you mumbled, putting the invitation back down.

A few seconds of silence passed.

"Aren't you going to complain to me until my ears feel like they're going to bleed or are you actually going to be a grown up about this and leave me alone to do work?" Levi asked with an eyebrow raised at you.

You scoffed. "I thought friends were supposed to listen to each other rant about stupid shit."

"They are. But this is beyond stupid shit. Who cares if you don't have a partner? We're in the Scouts. Most people's partners are dead. Just lie about having a boyfriend who vanished at the mouth of a titan and people will leave you alone."

"But people at weddings are brutal! Someone's parents will just try to set me up with someone else while I'm there. You would understand if you bothered to go to one once in awhile."

"Weddings are stupid. A public proclamation of love is completely unnecessary." Levi brought his point home with an extra loud huff. "It's pompous and egotistical. I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than go to another one."

"I should've gone to Hange for advice," you said, rolling your eyes, "but they would probably just suggest bringing Bean or Sonny. Or Mike, who'd sniff everyone and get me blacklisted from any other event ever."

That got Levi to let out a small grunt of laughter.

"I really don't know what to do, Levi. It's stupid, I know, but I can't take going to another one alone. I want to be there to support our comrade but I don't want to look like a total loser."

“I’ll go with you,” he suggested as he continued signing papers, the words leaving his mouth like it was the most glaringly obvious idea in the entire world.

"What?" you exclaimed, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He finally looked up to meet your gaze. "Tch, close your mouth, you're going to catch flies. Don't look so shocked, either. Erwin was just telling me I have to go to more shitty events to boost morale amongst the soldiers and brass and you need someone to go with so you don't look lonely. We can hang out, bitch about how lame everything is, and go home. It's a win-win. Unless...?"

"No! That would be amazing," you replied quickly, not wanting to lose this opportunity, "thank you. I'm just taken aback, that's all, since a second ago you used a very crass saying to express your unwillingness to go. Are you sure you'd want to show up with me? People talk, you know. They might think we're dating."

"So? Let them."

Levi was right. You were going to get judged no matter if you brought a random guy, attended by yourself, or went with Levi. At least this way you'd have someone to talk with all night.

"Does this mean we get to coordinate outfits?"

Levi balled up a discarded piece of paper from his trash bin and threw it at you. "Don't make me regret this, brat. Now get back to work."

You left his office chuckling and feeling a newfound sense of relief wash over you.

When the day of the wedding finally arrived, you felt butterflies in your stomach, nervous for what was to come. You tried to keep your mind off the stress you were feeling as you got ready after work. It was a rare occasion to dress up in your civilian clothes as you were always in your formal military wear for galas or other professional events. You had second guessed your outfit all day but it was too late to buy something else so you got dressed and fixed up your hair. As you put the finishing touches on your look, you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, you were definitely not expecting the sight you were greeted with.

"You're out of uniform."

You both spoke the same sentence at the same time.

"You really know how to keep people on their toes, don't you?" you asked, moving out of the way so he could come in.

"I was tired of wearing that damn thing all the time. This suit hasn't seen the light of day in a long time so I figured this would do instead."

The suit he had on made him look absolutely dashing, even more so than usual (which you didn't know was possible). He wore a gray collared buttoned shirt underneath a dark blue jacket with matching blue slacks and a brown belt. His cravat topped it all off, its stark white a nice contrast to the other colors.

"You look really nice," you complimented, your heart picking up speed as he raked his eyes over you.

"As do you," he replied, sincerity coating every syllable. He certainly wasn't wrong; your outfit hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your best assets. You opted for a silky black color for tonight since the wedding dress code asked for elegance. All of your previous fears about not looking okay were out of your head with the confirmation from Levi that you presented yourself nicely. You hadn't realized that you were lost in space, still enthralled in how handsome your best friend was until he finally cleared his throat, knocking you from your daydream.

"Huh? Oh sorry," you said sheepishly, "let me grab my shoes and we can get going."

The first shoe cooperated wholeheartedly but the second one was not wanting to work with you. You kept trying to buckle it but you were at a bit of an odd angle trying to balance yourself standing up while fiddling with the metal piece.

"May I?" Levi gestured to your foot. “We’re going to be late if you keep messing with that damn thing.”

Frustrated, you nodded, grateful for his help. His nimble fingers made quick work of the buckle and you were ready to leave in no time. You two walked down to where carriages were lined up to take the wedding guests from the Survey Corps base to a town a few miles away. Once you got inside the palatial venue, you were welcomed with the sight of decorations everywhere. The whole building was grandiose but the paper swans, crystal beads, and plush seating arrangements did much to elevate the overall luxuriant atmosphere. You had never seen such a splendid display at any of the other weddings you had been to, but you were at the wedding of two high ranking military officials, after all.

"All this and our soldiers can barely get fresh fruit half the damn time," grumbled Levi, clearly not impressed. You were inclined to agree with him. The whole scene was gorgeous, but in the grand scheme of things, it left a bad taste in your mouth that so much money was spent on this when it could've gone to something more... tangible.

"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it. Let's just try to ignore it and hopefully charm our way into securing more money in our budget from some other mucky-mucks in attendance."

"Here I was thinking I could convince you to leave after the vows were done," Levi said, earning a glare from you.

"In your dreams. There's no way I'm leaving without dinner and dessert. I should've brought extra handkerchiefs to sneak out food like Sasha."

While you two were chatting it up, waiting for the bride to make her appearance, you were quickly garnering much interest from the other guests. People were totally caught off guard seeing you arrive with someone, much less a man, much less the actual Captain Levi. It shouldn't have been as big a deal as it was since you were also a well known captain and you and Levi normally stood by each other at military events you were forced to be at, but the casual air about the both of you at such a romantic occurrence was turning heads. You and Levi paid no mind, continuing talking like you were the only people in the room. Finally, you were saved from the incessant ogling by the music signaling the bride had arrived.

The vows were done, the lips were kissed, the couple was married. Now came the worst time of the night--the social part of the event had started. You and Levi, of course, sat next to each other for dinner but you were dismayed at the fact he was the only one you knew at the table. Hange and your other friends were seated elsewhere and you made a mental note to say hi before the end of the night, even if you were going to see them all tomorrow anyway. Everything was going smoothly, no one bothering you or your date. The food was as yummy as you expected and Levi was satisfied with the tea they offered with dessert. The night had almost ended and there weren't any weird instances you had to deal with.

Until now.

"Oh my goodness! Y/n! It's so good to see you!"

You were startled by the voice practically screeching in your ear as you were eating a large piece of cake. An old acquaintance of yours greeted you loudly, grabbing you into an awkward hug since you were seated and she was standing. She took a seat in the open chair next to you while you prayed Levi would come back from the bathroom soon.

"How are you?" she asked, a huge smile on her face. You knew she'd definitely been drinking heavily throughout the night, though she was normally this giddy all the time.

"I'm doing alright. You know, the same old, same old. Nothing crazy going on at work or anything, thankfully. How about you?"

She completely ignored everything you said. "So I came over to see what was up between you and Captain Levi."

Here we go, you thought to yourself, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Playing dumb was always a good idea in these types of interactions.

"You know," she pressed, taking another long sip of whatever was in her cup, "you and him. I thought it was odd that you usually come to these things alone and all of a sudden you show up with a hot guy like him as your date. How'd you manage that? Did you pay him?"

"We've been best friends for many years and decided to be each others' dates," you said, trying your hardest to remain civil.

"Right." She slumped back in her seat. "That makes a lot of sense. We all figured there was no way you were dating. You two are in completely different leagues."

That was your breaking point.

"Nice seeing you," you said, your chair screeching as you slid it back and walked away from her. You wanted to scream. Why was it so difficult for people to be decent? And who did she mean by "we all" ? Did everyone find your situation that much more interesting than the beautiful wedding taking place? Was it really so strange a notion that you and Levi could've been dating?

Why did it bother you that no one would believe it if you were?

You were practically tripping over your feet to get outside, away from the prying eyes and invasive questions. You made your way over to a secluded bench where you felt tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. A few finally fell, leaving dark splotches on the light stone beneath you. The longer you sat out there, by yourself with no one to bother you or make you question your worth, the more you felt at ease. The brisk night air enveloped you like a blanket and the darkness did wonders to calm your racing thoughts. However, there was just one thought that wouldn't quit nagging you. You and Levi had been best friends for countless years and you had been content with the state of your friendship for all that time. Ever since he offered to be your date for this wedding, though, you'd started viewing him in a more romantic lens. Taking note of his appearance, feeling your heart speed up when he was close to you, getting lost in his eyes a little too long. You'd developed a crush on him but were much too nervous to mention such a silly, trivial thing to him, especially in fear of ruining the bond you shared. Now that someone pointed out the obvious, that you and him don't belong together, your harmless daydreams of him being your lover came crashing down and brought you back to reality. The reality was that Levi could never be yours, no matter how much you so desperately wanted him. It was a sad realization to have on a day that was supposed to be all about celebrating everlasting love, but such is life. You were torn out of your personal pity party when you heard the crunch of leaves underfoot.

"Here," Levi said, handing you your plate with your half eaten cake on it. "It worried me when I saw you abandoned dessert."

He wore an unreadable expression as you took it gratefully, patting the spot next to you as an invitation for him to sit with you.

"I'm sorry for bailing on you," you apologized, nibbling on your fork, "but there was this lady in there that I just-"

"I know," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the sky. "I heard the whole thing."

"Oh."

The void of silence left between you was a gap you were both unsure how to fill, so you didn't. The only thing heard for a few minutes was the faraway sound of laughter and the clinking of your silverware against the porcelain plate.

"She's wrong, you know. They all are," Levi said suddenly, making you jump a bit. You didn't say anything, discarding your empty plate on the ground next to you.

"There's some truly shitty people in this world."

"You got that right," you replied, your eyes moistening again as your mind replayed the mean words you were subjected to earlier.

Levi turned to you. "Don't do that. I know you, y/n, don't sit here and think about what she said over and over. It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't just get your self esteem ripped to shreds." You sniffed and angrily wiped away a tear that streamed down your face as you kept your eyes anywhere but on Levi.

"Look at me."

He spoke with such conviction that you felt compelled to do as he said. Without hesitation, he reached out and wiped away the wet that was accumulating on your cheeks with his thumb. You knew Levi wasn't a fan of physical affection, so why was he being so loving toward you all of a sudden?

"I would go to a hundred of these shitty weddings if you were there by my side because you make them less shitty. You make everything less shitty. I just... fuck, I'm not good with words, but what I mean is that I would do things I hate doing if it meant we could do them together."

You had known Levi long enough to be certain that he was currently expressing his feelings for you in his own roundabout way. Though the confession was a huge surprise, it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

You finally cracked a small smile. "You make my life a lot less shitty too, Levi. I'd even suffer through the entirety of those horrendous galas the MPs throw all too often if I had you next to me."

You reached out your hand to find his and gave it a small squeeze. "Let's get out of here. There’s no point in hanging around now that dessert’s finished."

You stood up, ready to make your exit. Before you went too far out of earshot, he stopped you.

"Want to give them one last thing to talk about?"

You didn't understand what he meant until you followed his gaze, landing on the group of guests that were currently not-so-secretly spying on you.

"Sure, I guess-"

Levi expertly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. If he didn't have such a steady grip on your body, you would've immediately melted onto the ground in a state of stupor. You heard startled gasps as people clamored about, anxious to spread the news of the two captains kissing.

"Should we flash them the ol' royal salute for being creeps?" Levi muttered against your lips.

"We'll save that for next time," you said, enveloping his lips in yours once more.

[kentobb]

PRESAGE | CHAPTER THREE

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: Foul Language

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the quiet café, casting long shadows that mingled with the soft murmur of conversations. Ushijima sat opposite to Tendo, his large frame looking almost uncomfortable in the delicate chair beneath him. His brow was furrowed, the intensity of his gaze focused on the steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

Tendo's eyes widened as he leaned closer, the laughter that usually danced in his eyes replaced with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "You're telling me, Ushijima," he began slowly, "that you think her kid looks exactly like you?"

Ushijima nodded solemnly, lifting his gaze to meet Tendo's. "Yes. The eyes, the face, even the hair... It's uncanny."

Tendo shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips despite the gravity of the conversation. "Look, if her kid was yours, she would've told you. You were pretty close back then."

Ushijima's eyes darkened with frustration. "We were until…” He paused. “I just, those eyes, Tendo. They look exactly like mine. I can't just ignore that."

The gravity of Ushijima's conviction weighed heavy in the air. Tendo sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friend's frustration well enough; this was a man who needed answers, not assumptions. "I have never seen the kid before…but… alright.”

The decision made, they found themselves standing outside the restaurant where you worked. The place was bustling, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter. Through the window, they could see you moving gracefully between tables, unaware of their presence.

"Look at us," Tendo muttered, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Two grown men standing here like stalkers."

Before they could take another step, a familiar voice rang out behind them. "What on earth are you two doing? You? Again? Here?”

Asami stood there, arms crossed and eyes blazing with annoyance. Tendo groaned inwardly. This was going to be good.

"Asami, I should be asking you the same thing. You’re here again, aren’t you the one spying?” he began, but she cut him off.

"I work here you dip shit.”

Tendo threw up his hands in exasperation. "Oh, come on! We’re just trying to—"

"Trying to what? Ruin her life?" Asami shot back. "She doesn’t need this kind of drama."

Ushijima, usually stoic, added, "We just want to talk to her."

"Talk? Is that what you call lurking outside her workplace like a couple of creeps?" Asami's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Tendo leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief despite the situation. "You know, Asami, you should try decaf sometime. It's supposed to be good for reducing that stick up your—"

Asami's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Finish that sentence, Tendo. I dare you."

"Alright, enough," Ushijima interjected, his deep voice cutting through the argument like a knife. "We're here for answers, not to fight."

Before any more could be said, a ripple of silence spread from inside the restaurant. You stood by the door, face a mask of shock as you stared at Ushijima.

Five years had passed, but the connection between you two was instant, a palpable force that seemed to electrify the air.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Ushijima and you locked eyes, and the world around them faded away. Your eyes, wide with surprise and a myriad of other emotions, were mirrors of the storm brewing within him. The memories of your time together, the unspoken words, the distance that had grown between them—all of it seemed to hang in the balance.

Ushijima took a step forward, his usually stoic face softening with an expression of pure euphoria. He hadn't seen you in years, but now, in this fleeting moment, nothing else mattered.

"Y-Y/N.” he breathed, her name a whisper of longing on his lips.

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you took in the sight of him. "Ushijima," you replied, your voice trembling.

The tension that had built between Tendo and Asami dissipated in an instant, their argument forgotten as they watched the reunion unfold. There was something profoundly beautiful and bittersweet in the way Ushijima and you looked at each other, as if the years apart had been but a moment, and yet an eternity.

Slowly, you stepped out of the restaurant, your movements hesitant yet resolute. You stopped just a breath away from Ushijima, your eyes searching his for answers, for understanding.

Ushijima reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched your cheek, as if to reassure himself that you were real. "I have always wondered how you looked…” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

You finally broke the silence, gaze flickering between Ushijima and Asami, "What are you doing here?” You asked, voice steadying.

Ushijima nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Is he mine?”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, silence speaking volumes. Tendo felt his heart clench in his chest. This was more complicated than any of them had anticipated.

With a deep breath, You turned back to Ushijima, eyes filled with a mix of fear. “No" you whispered. "He's not.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of revelation. "Don’t lie to me" he murmured, his voice breaking, “He looks just like me.”

Tendo and Asami exchanged a glance, their earlier animosity completely forgotten.

“Well, he’s not. And you can leave.” You said as you turned around and walked back inside the restaurant, leaving him speechless.

“I told you to leave her alone.” Asami hissed as she looked at both of them.

Outside the restaurant, the air was thick with tension. Ushijima's face was set in its usual stoic mask, while Tendo's eyebrows were knitted in frustration. Asami, her eyes blazing with determination, stood like a guard dog between them and the door.

"Leave her alone," she demanded, her voice a low growl.

Tendo threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh, come on, Asami! We're just trying to—"

"Trying to what? Create more chaos? You wanted a closure? That’s your closure. Now leave.”

Before Tendo could retort, a small voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter. "Aunty Asami!"

All eyes turned to see a small boy with a backpack approaching. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his eyes were wide and clear—eerily similar to Ushijima's. His expression was serious, almost stoic, like a miniature version of the volleyball star himself.

"Aunty Asami, can we get ice cream?" the boy asked, his tone dry and devoid of typical childlike enthusiasm.

Tendo's jaw dropped. "Holy... Ushijima, he looks exactly like you!"

Ushijima's eyes widened slightly, a rare display of emotion. He stared at the boy, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train.

Asami moved quickly, taking the boy's hand with a protective fierceness. "Come on, let's go inside," she said, her tone softer but still firm.

The boy glanced at Ushijima and Tendo, his expression as blank as ever. "Goodbye" he said, his voice flat and detached.

Tendo blinked rapidly, trying to process the surreal encounter. "Did that kid just—"

"Yeah, he did," Ushijima interrupted, his voice tinged with a rare note of defeat.

As the door closed behind them, the reality of the situation settled in. Ushijima's shoulders slumped, his usual air of confidence replaced by a heavy disappointment.

Tendo, seeing his friend's distress, quickly rallied. "Hey, don't look so down, Ushijima. We've got this."

Ushijima glanced at him, a mixture of hope and skepticism in his eyes. "Do we? This is more complicated than I ever imagined."

Tendo grinned, determined to lift his friend's spirits. "Of course we do! Besides, how hard can it be to win over a kid and a couple of angry women?"

Ushijima raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is simple!" Tendo exclaimed, throwing an arm around Ushijima's broad shoulders. "We're going to figure this out. First, we'll come up with a plan. Second, we'll avoid Asami until she cools down. And third, we'll make sure she knows you're here for her and your son."

Ushijima managed a small smile, appreciating Tendo's unwavering support. "Thank you, Tendo. But… she says is not mine.”

"Well, you don’t have a twin brother." Tendo replied with a wink. "We know that kid is yours.”

[its-actually-minicika]

Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉

If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈

Dragon Sickness (18+)

Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader

Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.

I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know

Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!

PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡

Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.

She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.

How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.

‘You will do exactly as demanded.’

‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.

And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.

‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.

During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.

There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.

‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.

‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’

Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.

‘As you wish.’

And how dearly he loved those words:

‘As you wish.’

'As you desire.’

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”

“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”

Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.

“Leave us. Now.”

A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.

“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”

The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.

“They will leave us at once.”

“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”

“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”

The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.

Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”

Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.

“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”

As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.

“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.

“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”

“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“The red one with black lacings.”

His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”

A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”

The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.

“Those are Velaryon hues.”

“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”

“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”

“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”

His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.

“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”

“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”

The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.

“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”

The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.

The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.

A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”

“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”

“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”

His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”

While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be yours quite soon.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.

"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"

So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”

Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.

“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”

The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.

She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.

The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.

“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”

His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.

Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.

She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.

Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.

As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.

Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?

At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.

For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.

His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.

But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.

Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?

For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.

The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.

But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.

Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.

Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.

And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.

“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”

Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.

“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”

Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.

“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"

“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”

“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”

When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.

“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”

Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.

“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their eyes on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”

Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”

The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.

His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.

“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”

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[vegasandhishedgehog]

Okay here I come with thoughts that I'm not sure many people will be on board with, but I'm gonna share anyway because who cares! Wandee Goodday is doing a fantastic job selling characters who are ridiulous, and many of them are charming. I'm gonna talk about the guy who isn't. Charming that is.

I Think Ter Is In The Closet

And I'm only using bits from episode 4 to demonstrate this. Sorry if you need more to be convinced.

Ter is a strange character because we meet him through Wandee, when he's still up on a pedestal. That image almost immediately gets crumpled and tossed into oncoming traffic to be flattened in a rubbery, Bangkok traffic death. Dee confesses his feelings and Ter insists he's straight. He's straight. He's straight! He likes women, not men. Sorry. To make matters worse, he pulls the asshole move of just asking Dee to leave the scholarship to him.

These men have known each other for eight years. Eight fucking years and this is where things are going? If we know how much of a disaster Dee is, then it really makes me wonder what disaster side of himself Ter has (aside from what we know).

(thinking them gaaayyy thoughts) (also this weirdo doesn't listen to music while working out? no wonder he's the devil)

Ter is recalling the moment when Yak came into the hospital with flowers for Dee, called him tee-rak, and the two of them are looking at each other like. Like That.

Super normal for a hetero dude to focus on that part of his long-term colleague's life. And if he were a huge homophobe, I could understand it being a possible upset, but then he wouldn't be so close to Dee if that were the case. This is Golf Tanwarin we're being led by here.

Our Devil Doctor is pulled out of his train of thought by the appearance of a shirtless Plakao

Guys, I won't lie to you, I yelled NO aloud because for a second I thought he was going to have his come to Jesus with our favorite asexual king, and as an asexual who worships Plakao and how amazing he is, I just wasn't gonna have it!

And the first thing Ter notices? Kao is alone - specifically, he isn't accompanied as usual by his bestie Wandee. So Ter immediately interrupts his workout to question him. Kao responds that Dee's with his boyfriend now, which prompts more questioning about their relationship from Ter.

Yeah, Ter. What's it matter to you?

You turned Wandee away because you're straight. So, obviously that's a no, right? Right?

Not addressing that then. Okay. We'll just hit the skip button for that dialogue option, I guess.

As a tenured colleague and friend, that would be the natural reaction to this. Kao is a wise, wise man, and like many an asexual, he has done the work of figuring himself out while living in an allonormative world (while also recognizing he likes men! I cannot stress enough how beautifully nuanced his okay). From what he understands (and is stating for Ter to ponder), is that this would make sense for someone who doesn't harbor any other kinds of feelings toward Dee and until recently, has been on good terms with him.

But Ter doesn't get to ponder because he gets called away and immediately forced to face Dee happily walking hand in hand with Yak. It's awkward. Dee excuses himself and Yak. And then Ter's eyes foooolloooww.....

And later he gets back to his room with the number of the beast and fondly recalls when Dee used to leave snacks on his door....

(crowd goes awww)

But this guy can't help but notice while he's doing an evening workout -

Hey! There are Dee and Yak again! Being all cute in the pool! It's too coincidental! (He had not considered that his colleague works at the same place and has a similar schedule, therefore all this appropriately timed boyfriendism could only happen within that schedule)

So he has to conclude that it isn't real.

Little does Ter know that it was originally intended for YakDee to be fake boyfriends; that he'd stumbled upon the truth immediately. What he wasn't expecting was for Dee to double down not only to not be caught plotting like that, but because he's way further into his feelings for Yak than he is fully aware of.

I cannot stress how interesting it is so see this man be so obsessed over their relationship. Anyone who would call themselves a close friend or colleague would simply be happy for Dee, maybe warn him about some people who are less accepting if that were an issue, and then continue focusing on whatever it is he's doing for the scholarship. And maybe he does focus on the scholarship - we aren't shown his side of it because it's not important - but if that's true and his secondary focus is theorizing that Dee's relationship is fake? TER? WORSTIE?????

And then this happens!

Now I've seen a lot of people taking this as manipulation and I'm not going to call them wrong. It is exactly that. But I think he's also seeing if maybe he missed a chance? It wasn't that long ago that Dee was reminiscing about the past eight years together and Ter had decided the scholarship was more important than pursuing whatever thing they had between each other. Ter is realizing he doesn't want to throw either of them away, but still has his heart with the money. So he improvises a lame little plea, it's badly executed, and we get sad eyes watching Dee leave.

I would've expected him to curse under his breath, or have some sort of small scale tantrum after that interaction if he was fully planning to manipulate Dee like that. His melancholy here is what has me thinking that it wasn't well thought out, and there's a part of him who cares about his relationship with Dee and wishes it could carry on as it used to.

Ter continues to obsess. We know he'd immediately seen the story Dee posted, and it seems he's returning to it again (knowing social media habits, he's likely checked it several times in between).

CAUGHT.

Kwan, in contrast to Ter, is also Dee's colleague. She finds him and his boxer boyfriend just charming!

This line kills the entire conversation. There's very obvious tension about this subject.

To me this is where Ter has kinda said the quiet part out loud. He's more concerned about his own image. To whom? His family? His patients? Future opportunities? To himself? Not that there's nothing for Dee to be worried about (this is in Thailand where gay marriage is not legal yet, after all), but he has had a good reception of being publicly queer so far. Is that due to his queerness being more pronounced? Has Ter ridden for most of his life on being able to pass as straight because he was afraid of the consequences?

I'm gonna take a hard left for a moment, and then redirect.

There's a scene in the film To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar where a sheriff (who has had an altercation with a drag queen and is looking for her for severely homophobic reasons) sits in a saloon and essentially narrates gay erotica aloud like he's trying to process the concept of homosexuality. He's disturbed about the idea. The people around him are also disturbed by his imaginings. It almost gives the sense that his thoughts come from desire, but he's been taught too much hate about that desire to recognize it.

And this is the moment where I just felt sorry for Ter. It seems like he maybe has some deep-seated denial, and it's being overturned by everything Dee is doing. It doesn't excuse him, but shit's gotta suck. And it's clear his disturbance with the idea of Dee having gotten over any feelings for him will be hard to reckon with on top of deciding how he feels about Dee himself. P'Golf does their antagonistic and confused gays well.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the twin traveller older siblings featuring honkai characters.

Imagine being in one of the planets that the trio, Dan Heng, March 7th and the trailblazer just happened to dropped by upon having some errands to un when they happened to come across you, You who was going planet to planet hopin to find your younger siblings, a twin that have been gone missing for some time now.

Imagine upon interaction, they find you quite intimidating. Your first meeting was after all, not very pleasant but thanks to you managing to put them out of troubles they would have been facing just like their other ventures. This might be the first time they manage to get out of trouble so quickly because of you. That might also be the reason why they somehow come to pursue you into tagging along with them, hoping to help you find the world your younger siblings where.

"You know, I'm starting to keep like I only came here to be the babysitter of this group. I should have taken upon Welt's offer to stay with him back in the express." "Hey! We're not kids!" "Yes, yes. Just a bunch of troublemaking idiots." You laugh as if the four of you aren't basically surrounded and accused of some shit. Then a figure on the corner of your eyes caught your attention but before you could even say a thing, a ball was thrown and a cloud of smoke soon appeared. Oh here goes another fucking trouble.

Imagine being put in a troublesome situation was nothing knew to you. With your younger siblings constantly causing troubles here and there whenever they were to venture another world, you were used to cleaning up their mess, just like who you decided to watch out for these dumbass trio. Looking at near distance as the trio converse happily with each other, talkig about the missions and experiences they have experienced in the other planet you've been through. You cannot help but to stare longingly.

"I hope they aren't too much to handle." It was Welt. "Oh them? Not really." You chuckle, looking to your side to find the man in there. "My siblings were far more troublesome than they are." "Sounds like they messed up alot." "They do... In fact there was this one time were they..."

"Oh fuck." You quickly look down and took a quick step behind Dan Heng. "???" "What's wrong?" The trio looked back worried at you when you urge them to look forward. "I just remember I've been here before." "Is there something that matter about that?" "Yes!" You shouted but quick cover your mouth. You shouldn't have accompanied them in this place. "You see that man in there? That's one of my ex." "Ex???" "Your ex is the Dozing General?!" "Yes! Now hush before he remember me!"

"The kids are rather worried." "Were they? Sweet." You reply with a chuckle. "Are you okay?" "I... I am okay." You sigh before looking away from the endless stars outside the express. "Are you sure?" Welt asked, eyes meeting yours that seems to bring comfort into you. "I... I'm just worried about my siblings. I had this feeling... I kept feeling off nowadays... I'm worried that something bad happened to them..." You said with a rather defeated sigh before once again looking back to the stars. "It makes me wonder if things would have been different if I came with them when they asked me too. They're not kids anymore, but still, having me with them might bring some difference, you know? If only I wasn't stubborn maybe I would know where they have gone to. If only..." "Hey, I'm sure they're alright. Okay? They're safe. We'll find them soom enough, okay?"

Imagine it was finally the time to say goodbye. With the trio and Welt sending you off, you smile at them before chuckling. "It was nice meeting you all." "Do you really have to go?" "Really March? Of course they have to go." "But do they really need to go?" Trailblazer pout causing you to laugh. "Yes kiddo, unfortunately I need to go, alone this time." Turning away from the trio. "I'll get going now. Please do send her my regards and apologies for parting without her on sight." "Alright. May you have a great journey ahead of you."

Imagine feeling your siblings closed by, although there was no visible planet on sight. You knew where they are. You've been there before after all, so who would have ever thought that that is where they have gone by. Why Teyvat of all world to choose from? That world is quite, complicated. Bounded by some unwanted rules and principles. And by the looks of it, given their scattered energy, your gut feeling was right to feel like something was off from the moment you lost contact with them.

Imagine with a little bit of regret but endless of good memories you have. You smile at them and bid your goodbye for the last time saying, "If chances permits I'd be happy to come aboard again." And then you disappeared. Only to appear as another falling star on the land of teyvat.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: Now I want to make a whole ass ff story about this. A genuine cross over but I barely played honkai and barely know about it's lore sjhfjsjshksjdhdjsk so yeah, did I fucked up or nah?

[sakumz]

a/n : this has been on my mind for awhile now ever since I started mashle omg. oc yn kinda and maybe ooc rayne lol slight orter too

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[ a. rayne x fem reader ]

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you were a year older than rayne, orca's previous prefect. a divine visionary, the dark cane. your magic majorly consists of smoke. you can solidify the smoke. (reference to kurono from fire force omg I love his power but the character...☠️☠️)

rayne saw you multiple times around the school but never spoke, though he found you prettier than any other person he came across. he first saw you winning a candidate seat as a divine visionary when you were in your first year as max drags him along to watch back in their middle school years. you were an inspiration to the other students. despite being in the orca dorm, he did see you in the library with different students from either lang or adler. you were tutoring them.

when he first attended a meeting with the rest of the divine visionaries in his third year at easton, you happened to come in last, so the only seat available was one between orter and rayne. during that particular meeting when you spoke an option on how to deal with the world's problem, orter would shut you down. saying it was unrealistic and impossible to pull off.

rayne would peek from the corner of his eyes to see a pout form from your face. everyone could tell orter had some serious issues with you. your option wasn't unrealistic nor impossible to pull off but one that made complete sense. you were from the orca dorm afterall, the dorm of wisdom and willingness.

just when you had enough of orter in the room, you can't help but summon a small solidified smoke kunai knife, pointing the knife at his neck in a threatening manner. he wasn't faze by such a threat, he could transform his body into sand and dodge the attack. everyone in the room wasn't shock, seeing this happen before. rayne on the other hand, was slightly surprised you would do something like that to orter of all people.

" maybe this is why your younger brother isn't as close to you anymore, because you can't shut your mouth! " you shout as kaldo sniffles a laugh.

" who are you to talk? you don't even talk to your younger sister. last I heard she enrolled in easton and is in the adler dorm. nothing about spending time with her adoring big sister, " orter says in a matter of fact way. the other divine visionary did not want to interfere, hearing all the juicy sibling gossip spill from the two of you.

" ha! lucky for you, I did visit her two days ago. " you slam your hands on the table.

" what's the evidence that you did? " orter crosses his arms as he raise a brow.

" she did visit the adler dorm. " rayne starts, making everyone look at him as he clears his throat.

" I saw her exit the building. then I heard a loud sound from upstairs so I rush to the noise. a girl was happily screaming as finn and his other friends try to calm her down. apparently someone gifted her homemade cookies. she was just too happy receiving them. " rayne finishes as they stare back at you.

" seriously? that's all you did to make your sister happy. " orter playfully scoffed as you glare at the male.

" at least I try to spend time with her... unlike a certain glasses sandman. we're all so busy and I'm sure wirth would be over the moon to receive a letter filled with compliments from his dearest big brother. maybe that would bring you both closer. "

" really? " orter was sure to believe you. he was aware you and his brother has met multiple times back when you were still in easton, having heard your name spill out in the family's dinner get together though their father wasn't bothered by the name of a mere female on the table. orter was convinced his brother may have developed a crush on you.

" no. I'm sure he'll burn the paper afterwards, " you bluntly spoke. kaldo couldn't help but burst out laughing, the rest slowly following after except rayne.

the other time he's met you as a divine visionary was when you barged into orter's office room. rayne was still new and was being assisted by orter in settling and knowing more about the job as visionary.

" ryoh was supposed to join me in this mission and I'm not allowed to go by myself, said the light cane. he got sick as what his wife said on the call. I would've asked kaldo to come but he's busy tonight and this mission is said to last for at least two days. " orter was silent as you continued to ramble on.

" so please come along with me. I wouldn't want to bother sophina and the others. "

" take rayne with you. " orter replies as rayne awkwardly puts the paper stack orter told him to take on his table.

" okay, " you say as you look over at rayne, before motioning him to follow you.

closing the door a soft, " stay safe " can be heard from orter. despite how mean he can be towards you. you did make wirth comfortable in easton, students adored you so did the people in the outside world. you didn't care about titles or status. as long as you can care for your sister and make a living for yourself for survival. orter did bump into you several times when you were still a student in the streets he usually patrols in, you would give food and toys to the less fortunate children. going as far as to teach a thing or two if you have plenty of time on your hands. you did fell for orter at first sight. you'd crack jokes around wirth about marrying his brother but he'll brush off calling it a faraway dream as he can't imagine his brother with a wife. when you became a divine visionary, you pushed your feelings aside for the man. he was a meanie towards you.

rayne was quiet the whole ride to the place of the mission. he didn't know what to say. you had to break the silence as the carriage was going slowly to your destination.

" this mission... we're here to take back a lost relic. should be easy, "

" um.. what's your relationship with orter? " he can't help but finally ask the question.

" just co workers I guess... "

it was a relief to rayne. the mission ended smoothly, rayne was amaze by your battle skills. you summon a smoke screen as his partisan swords blend with the thick smoke, appearing right in front of the thieves.

you invited him to dinner as thanks but he kindly rejects, saying he'll have morning classes the next day so he'll have to be back in the dorms. you bid farewell but that didn't stop you from wanting to treat him to a good ol meal. so you pack him a bento lunch box.

you got an owl to deliver the bento with a note. he had no choice but to accept when the owl enters through his class's window and land on his table. students were curious but he simply brushes it off, saying its nothing. when it was lunch time. he was delighted to read the note. it was short and sweet. thanking him for the help and how you were happy he was willing to come. you hope he'll enjoy the lunch and he did. it had cute cut rabbit shaped vegetables. max didn't tease him but assume he had a secret girlfriend.

when he came to the divine visionary building, he was looking all over for you. he would like to thank and return the lunch box to you. when he entered your office, you and renatus were conversing. he notice you crying into a tissue as renatus awkwardly pushes the box of tissues towards you.

" what's wrong? " rayne asks as renatus smile awkwardly.

" I don't remember uhh, " renatus looks over to you as your sobbing self was replaced with a glaring you to him.

" what do I do with my dead cat? do I bury it in the cemetery you're always at? "

" so that's what's happening. well rayne, y/n's cat is pretty old and has passed due to old age. I guess you can bury the cat. I'll get it a tomb and stuff if you want. just let me know later, " he pats your head as he exits the office. leaving you alone with rayne.

" um, thanks for the bento. it was nice and I enjoyed the meal. " rayne starts as he places the empty clean box on your table.

" ah, no problem. thanks for looking out for the adler kids. " you replied as rayne remembers the conversation he had with your sister a week ago.

he had invited her and the mash gang to the lounge room to discuss about you. it would be very nerve-racking if it was just him and your sister and the possible rumours to spread if it was really just the two of them. they all squeeze on one couch as he awkwardly shifts in the couch he sat. was he that scary that they didn't want to sit next to him?

" um what's this about? " finn questions as mash noms on his beloved cream puff.

" what does your sister like? " rayne replies as lance starts shaking in his seat.

" my sister? my anna? " lance shakes as he slowly starts seething to the thought of rayne being with his sister.

" oh no, another pedo. " mash starts to shake next to lance.

" no way, " lemon whispers.

" dude, you're like so handsome and talented and you're after a young girl? " dot starts to bubble at the mouth at the conclusion he managed to make out. confusing bubbling in his mouth. finn was confused as well so was your younger sister. how did he meet Anna crown?

" no, not your sister idiot. y/n l/n. what does she like. I don't even know this Anna girl. " they all stop overreacting as the rest look over at the younger l/n.

" sorry my guy, she likes orter madl. " your sister responded monotony has gotten everyone going "huh" even rayne was confused.

" what? " he was certain there was nothing of that sort between you and orter.

" are you free tonight? let me take you to dinner. " rayne says as you throw away all the tissues.

" yeah sure, just give me ten minutes to finish cleaning up. " he sure waited.

settling down at your comfort restaurant, you and him got your orders and then food. you happily ate to your heart's content. rayne wanted to ask questions and call you his but the courage to do so was slowly biting his leg off. it was hard to talk about things he felt normal people would want to ask but can't be bothered to poke their noses in so they take their guesses as truth. he felt you kick his leg from under the table as he jolts at his seat from the sudden impact. snapping him out of his gaze.

" you're starring. "

" sorry. "

"what is it on your mind? you look like you're dying to ask, " you joked as he sent you a glare of his own.

" just thinking... are you and orter... together? " you drop your fork at the sudden question, he panics a little. maybe he shouldn't ask that question.

" no, we're not together. I'm a naive fool. it's one sided love? but it's okay! I'm not in love with him anymore. " rayne heaves out a sigh at the confession. he still has a chance and chance he will take.

" so, will you go out with me? I vow to protect you. I'll be your shield and sword. your everything. I've loved you since the first time we met. you are the beauty of what the world does not deserve to see, " he confessed as his ears starts to tint red and he looks shyly away from you.

" sure we can go out, I like you too! " and so your love story with rayne ames slowly starts to bloom.

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...You being good with a sword

A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!

Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont

TW: Horny characters, violence?

Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol

Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.

Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).

Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.

Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.

Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.

Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.

Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.

Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.

[lucrezianoin]

Approval and devnotes for Astarion act 3 (spawns, bloodmerchant, pre-Cazador)

I will check here only act 3-Astarion related quests, pre the final confrontation. I just wanted to see if there was anything interesting, and I will do confrontation and the two paths later on.

Act 1 is here, act 2 here. Keep in mind that for act 1 and act 2 I just checked some interesting and surprising approvals. My plan was to do the same for act 3 and I am, but I stumbled upon some devnotes so for act 3 I will check both!

SPAWNS (at tavern)

There is not too much about the tavern meet up with Dalyria and Petras regarding approval but there are some interesting notes. In particular, if the player agrees to help Astarion complete the ritual:

Astarion will say "You're a true friend" but think "lol, sucker". This is ONLY for non Astarion romance.

Another note that really clarifies what ascended Astarion will be:

The notes for the player asking him about who will really get the power are:

"Yes, technically only I will ascend" -> "Well yes TECHNICALLY only I will have the power"

"We're a team, if I become powerful then we become powerful" -> "emphasis on I and we as if speaking to a child"

"You're still with me?" -> "testing the player's loyalty"

BLOODMERCHANT (act 3): spawn vs ascended

First of all, I never allow Astarion to drink from her, but if you do, when he sees her he will comment that:

Which is pretty hearbreaking.

There is also the chance to meet her after Cazador, which changes Astarion's dialogue if he becomes the vampire lord. If the player talks about Astarion's feelings and how Araj made him feel last time, Ascended Astarion will reply "I appreciate the thought, but I am not the person I was the last time we met", vs the non ascended Astarion who says "I appreciate the thought, truly". Furthermore, Ascended Astarion will remarks on how NOW the player belongs to him, while last time Araj thought Astarion was basically the player's slave:

After this, the player can remark that maybe they should leave if Astarion is uncomfortable, and again you get different answers based on previous events:

Highlighted spawn Astarion says that she doesn't bother him, he pities her. In blue there is ascended Astarion (after that he says that they can leave her in a ditch), in red if you make him drink her blood he remarks about how NOW the player cares about him (the notes says that he is annoyed at the player), and the last one "Let's just get this over with" is for pre-Cazador Astarion.

If you made Astarion drink her blood, you will end up breaking up with him (or if you don't make him drink, but then you force him into sleeping with you). In this case the player can even accuse Araj:

Very proud of Astarion remarking on how "You mostly ruined it all by yourself".

Interestingly, the comment of Astarion worrying for the player, saying that the only think she can offer is pain is only said if Astarion did not ascend:

I suppose this is because ascended Astarion cares too much about power.

SPAWNS (attacking at night)

When Astarion comments that you are the only one and no one else looked out for him (post attack dialogue) it looks like this option is dependent on the blood merchant scene. I wonder if you get the confession and you do not visit the merchant, if this happens:

Interestingly, all the answers also get approval ("The world can be a kind place"/"There are many others who will care for you"/"I am rather special").

I also love that Astarion does EVERYTHING he can in this convo to differentiate himself and the player from everyone else. So he thinks the player is the only kind thing in the world (kind to him), no one else is like them. He refuses to admit that he is like the other spawns, "WE are better" (him and the player character). In this conversation there is a whole branch about him justifying killing his siblings because they are just spawn, and the player can basically call him out, telling him that in turn, what does his life mean, as he is just like them.

Ascended-Astarion-oriented talk is in general focused on the "me" =/= "them". He does see himself in the other victims but he refuses to address it.

A bit about a note: when you ask Astarion if he is really letting his siblings die, Astarion replies with "don't look at me like that disappointed" and the note is:

Next post will be about Cazador stuff!

I am also playing through act 3 now, so if I see any interesting approval I will add it too.

Btw, the Yenna thing is actually... every companion approve of giving her food or money, even Minthara.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !

When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.

Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.

When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.

Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.

So there's an instant connection when you two meet.

To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"

He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.

"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"

"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.

The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.

"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"

"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."

He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.

These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.

He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).

But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.

You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.

With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.

Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.

You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-

Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.

But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.

That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.

While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.

"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."

"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.

On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).

He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.

You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-

"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."

"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.

"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."

"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"

"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.

Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.

Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"

Oh boy.

You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.

Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....

But you're perfectly content with that.