is it okay to ask about the Submas AU idea you had?? i kinda just wanna hear what it's generally about since it suddenly nagged at me out of nowhere.
I'm glad you asked!
Some context that may not make sense to my bringing it up until proper explaining: I've been headcanoning N as being autistic, much like how many headcanon the Submas twins to be(myself included).
How is that relavant, you might ask?
Well, assuming you know the original games the twins are from well enough, you should know that N was taken in by Ghetsis after being found by him, having been raised by pokemon prior to that. From there, Ghetsis worked to build him up to become the chosen hero to one of the legendary dragons(exactly which varying depending on the game, of course).
Well I had a thought.
What if sometime after Ghetsis finding N, he ended up finding Ingo and Emmet as well? A trio of children that he would take the opprotunity to try and mold into the perfect heroes for the trio of dragons.
Reshiram and Zekrom had already been proven to like twins, after all. That was why there was a legendary pair of them in the first place. Surely they would like a set of twins raised specifically to live their Truth or Ideal, right?
And so, raised and brainwashed by Ghetsis, Ingo, Emmet, and N all grow up as siblings(even if only the twins are by blood), each one having been told they had to be the perfect hero for one of the three legendary dragons. Emmet and Ingo had already liked dressing in opposite colors after all. Why not assign them the corresponding dragons to those opposite colors?
Emmet would be told to always follow his Truth. To always be honest with himself and others, regardless of their feelings.
Ingo, on the other hand, would be told to always work for his Ideal. To wave away other's truths if that was necessary to make his Ideal a reality.
And N? Well, he would be told to make himself open to others Truths and Ideals, just as Kyurem is known to be.
Of course, this also means Ghetsis needs to find all three dragons instead of just one, but... Well, he deems it no small sacrifice to use his time for that. Especially since it means nobody would be able to rise up with those same dragons to stop his plans.
...He's severely underestimated the power of a train hyperfixation spread through a trio of autistic children.
He's underestimated the way the things he's trying to teach the children will backfire on him when his plans finally begin to unfurl.
And more than anything? He's underestimated how much of his brainwashing can be undone over the course of just one journey made with siblings and rivals.
...That, and he has no idea that the Light and Dark Stones will be found by those he brainwashed sooner than he himself can acquire them.
Ghetsis will try to progress with his new plan regardless of all he doesn't know.
After all. Wouldn't having all three dragons be the best he could get for his plan? Surely all the frustation of raising the three children will be worth it. After all: Three Are Better Than One.
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Prompts For When You Need A Whumpee To Fall Like A Sack Of Bricks
For when a slow and steady loss of consciousness doesn't quite cut it (but that's still good, don't get me wrong).
whumpee's still running on adrenaline when they bump into caretaker, nothing but smiles until they catch onto caretaker's horrified expression. they follow their gaze until they see the familiar stain of blood against their shirt. their shock drains the adrenaline from them, and before caretaker's even able to take a step forward their knees have buckled.
a sudden wound — a gunshot, a stabbing — and the pain lancing through them white-hot and agonizing. they're still processing what's happened to them, gaping like a fish out of water when they feel the ground slam into the side of their head. they're not sure when they fell, but every pulse pours out more red and reminds them over and over of why.
a caretaker running themselves ragged with just how many people are hurt or in need of them, unable to take a moment's rest for themselves. their vision starts to swim when they stand up but they ignore it, because it's not that bad yet and others have it worse. they're doing an excellent job pushing through, until they're suddenly not. their vision wavers a little stronger this time, and then into black, barely able to get out a surprised "oh" before they're on the ground.
bending down to grab something and not hearing the approach of someone from behind them. one moment, they're sifting through papers, a drawer, a cabinet — the next, there's a burst of horrible pain at the back of their skull and a deep, sudden darkness.
trying to climb out of bed after a broken fever — common sense tells them to stay in bed but they want a bath so badly. their body trembles the moment they move to stand, and they're barely upright for more than a few seconds before their weakened legs fold and they collapse in a pile of exhausted, aching limbs.
doing nothing, thinking of nothing until there's a bright surge of light and heat, white bleeding into black, so abrupt that it's not until they wake again that they even comprehend that anything happened to them.
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i like when people give atsushi cat-like traits like purring or having sharper-than-average canines and i think we should take it a step further and just keep adding onto it. atsushi should chuff. he scratches on walls and his desk until there's obvious nail marks digging into the wood. he rubs against the others to mark them as his territory. there has to be a meeting held because he won't stop shedding and there's white hair everywhere so a good portion of the agency's budget goes into getting everyone lint rollers. he freaks people out at night because of his tapetum lucidum. and he does all of this subconsciously so if you tell him he does any of these things he'd be absolutely mortified
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Raphael or Haarlep reacting to waking up as the little spoon, even though the little mouse is smaller than the fiend. Like Tav's chest is pressed against the fiend's back, arms loosely but tenderly wrapped around his torso, their head resting by his shoulder blades as he feels the mortal's peaceful breath gently fanning the base of his wings. Perhaps the fiend even realizes that his tail has ended up coiled around one of Tav's legs.
Here you go, love, and thank you for the ask!
Please let me know if you enjoyed, reblogs very welcome, I'm v enamoured with the half-devil <3 and I love getting to talk to others who love him too ^^
Summary: fluff, fade to black hinting at smut, sleepy cambion, no warnings.
Wordcount: 345
divider by saradika-graphics
How did the House of Hope come to be your escape, you wondered, absentmindedly, half asleep. You curled into the cambion in front of you, comfortable in between his wings, resting your chin on his shoulder. His heat kept you warm, but still you preferred a blanket. It felt more intimate to be underneath one together. His presence made Avernus feel like home, the sounds of the Blood War a far off noise that lulled you to sleep. It was never easy to sneak away from camp unnoticed to spend time with Raphael, but at this point, you didn't care what your companions thought. You slept best with the cambion.
The tail around that's gently curled around your leg, tightened for a moment, twitching as it stretched and relaxed. He's waking up. Softly, you pressed kisses into his skin, enjoying the ridges of his spine.
He hummed as he stretched the rest of him, tensing for a moment as the arm slung over his waist inhibited his movement.
"Comfortable, are you, my dear?" His voice was still thick with sleep. You tightened your arm around him, preventing him from turning around. It was nice to be the big spoon. Would he feel safe, as you feel when he holds you?
"You're very warm," you say softly, "I'm sorry if I woke you. We can still sleep a bit more..."
He lifted your arm to turn around, you let him this time. Immediately, he leaned in, noses bumping, and kissed you deeply. The sharpness of his teeth still delighted you, bringing up images from the night before. The bitemark in your thigh throbbed at the memory. His groan as you lick into his mouth was sinfully deep. With a big hand, he held your face still, to kiss deeper, so deep it felt like you barely got to breathe. He's truly a dream, you thought, moaning as you traced the ridges on his back.
He dislodged from you, holding you close, trapped within his arms, to say: "Sleep? Hm. Maybe there's something else we could be doing instead..."
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Once again thinking about the connection between Duncan and the Grim Reaper. Imagine him, cloaked in black as he wonders the world searching for lost souls and claiming them as his own once their old life has ended and taking them for himself to sacrifice them in his war against the ancient evils. This great and valiant man with poison in his blood and the demon's song in his mind, a valiant knight slowing being eaten by the sickness he seeks to kill. A ghost who listens to the song at night and searching for warriors - for sacrifices - to give the blood the evil ones call for. Flee should you see him. Let the smell of his rotting mind ward you away and let not those cold steel gauntlets claim you. May the reaper find you before he does for the death will grant rest but a warden will send your soul to war as it dies.
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