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The best part is that Obi-Wan is completely shameless; he shows up to class with nails marks on his neck and openly tells everyone that his kitten is magnificent and wonderful and loves him madly but is also completely unruly and drives him crazy. All his coworkers and students think that Obi-Wan has become a crazy cat mom in his old age, only this one student knows better (but is afraid to speak up; caution is the better part of courage).

Thinking about discord meet cute AU again.

Obi-Wan is pretty "freaky" guy. His students don't know about it, of course, he is not the one to be super open about his personal life. Or maybe he met a student at kinky party once and to their advanced he answered "Well, you should be studying for your tomorrow exam instead", and a student never ever mentioned this conversation to anyone else. Back in the days of his youth he even was one of these people practicing free love and open relationship. He engaged in various kinks.

Anakin is completely different. He thinks of himself as the most typical boring dude, who only has sex with his partner. And his desire to wear stockings and being called kitten hit him like a truck. He also thought that only cute young men can do that, and he is a tall dude in his forties, all the men who into dudes in stockings would think he is cringe. Especially his discord crush Obi-Wan. (He is wrong)

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thanks @mowatrawa for idea!

I mean... 1,88 m length and about 85 kg weight, a pretty big catch by all standards.

[mowatrawa]

🚨 E-BOOK "AUTHOR" IS PLAGIARIZING PILGRIMAGE FICS 🚨

Buckle up, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

Our prolific author, @relicshamecircle (aka EnduringParadox on ao3) has been made aware of an e-book "author" named Layla Moran who has been blatantly plagiarizing her Diarmute fanfics and just changing the names and a few words around. This is absolutely unacceptable. I always like to think of this fandom as a safe haven and an accepting, kind community. But this is disgusting.

These are the three specific works listed on Layla's account that have been plagiarized from EnduringParadox:

This seems to be the work of someone within the fandom, because how else would she have found these fics and read them and decided to pass them as her own? So Layla Moran, if you follow me and you're reading this, you have made Pilgrimage fanfic authors, who are already so few and far between, feel unsafe to post without you getting your greedy hands on them and trying to take advantage of a small fandom for your own profit. Did you think you would never get caught? My advice to you would be to take down the works yourself before this has to get nasty.

To everyone else, I urge you to report and/or leave one-star reviews stating that they're plagiarized from fanfic. Links and proof below the cut:

The summary of The Beauty and His Beast:

Which is CLEARLY An Invitation to Happiness:

Ugh, Everild and Camdyn... what ugly names. But I digress. Here's the link to the GoodReads page if you feel so inclined to leave a one-star review and report.

An excerpt from An Invitation to Happiness, EnduringParadox:

"David hadn’t fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he’d stood for God—that the king’s cause, which he so readily made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword’s blade, his body a hardened knot of scarred skin, his throat ravaged by his own roars of rage and anguish, David knows better. That he had gone to war simply because he had been foolish. Because he’d been a young man but had still looked at war with a boy’s eyes—half a solemn duty, half a game. Something that would be done and done with satisfaction."

An excerpt from The Beauty and His Beast, Layla Moran:

"Everild Reed hadn't fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he'd stood for God--that the king's cause, which he eagerly made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword's blade and burdened with the weight of his choices, his body a hardened knot of muscle and scarred skin, Everild knows better now."

--

The summary of The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband:

Which, obviously, is Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant:

Come ON, even naming Diarmuid's character "Ciarán"???? (And misspelling it Ciarian in the summary??) Here's a link to the GoodReads page. You know what to do.

And THIS ONE she's making money off of. You can buy it for $2.99 on Amazon.

Here's a link to the Amazon page, please report.

An excerpt from Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant, EnduringParadox:

"David had almost joined their company. He’d gone nearly the entire war without being shot and damned if near the end of it all someone hadn’t gotten him right in the leg. The surgeon had told him they needed to take the entire limb. David had grabbed his collar, pulled him close until they were nose-to-nose, and gritted out that he’d break every one of his fingers if he tried it. He kept the leg, earned a limp, and found later, when he was beset by memories and the scent of blood and gunpowder, dizzy, pulse racing, that he’d gotten what they called the soldier’s heart, too."

An excerpt from The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband, Layla Moran:

"Graham had come close to joining the dead himself, narrowing surviving a gunshot wound to the leg near the warn's end. The surgeon wanted to amputate, and Graham, fueled by desperation, had snarled at him through gritted teeth, threatening to break his fingers if he so much as tried. He kept the leg but earn a limp that followed him everywhere, along with something the doctors called 'soldier's heart'--a condition that left him shaking, sleepless, and burdened with memories of blood and gunpowder."

--

And, finally, a summary of The Warrior and The Monk:

Which is just Temu how rich the earth, how bright the stars:

Here's a link to the GoodReads. Rate, report.

An excerpt from how rich the earth, how bright the stars, EnduringParadox:

"One morning, strangers in longships stepped onto the shore. Their arrival was no surprise. Along the sea's coast they drifted, slow, languid, in their monstrously large and narrow vessels with their monstrously large, woven sails dyed in bright, garish colors, a beacon to all that saw them, telling them—as their longships loomed like a pack of wolves stalking their prey—that they were coming."

An excerpt from The Warrior and The Monk, Layla Moran:

"One early morning, strangers in longships silently stepped onto the shore, their presence casting a heavy weight upon the land. Their arrival had been anticipated for days, maybe longer, and was no surprise to those who dwelled in the monastery overlooking the coast. The ships had been visible for miles as they drifted slowly, languidly, along the sea's edge, cutting through the waves like beasts with a purpose. They moved in their long, narrow vessels, which seemed both too large and too lean, with sails woven from thick cloth and dyed in bright, garish colors that stood out against the pale sea and sky. The sails themselves were like beacons, drawing attention,"

--

This is all so blatant and egregious. Shame on Layla. EnduringParadox is a kind and dedicated person writing all of these wonderful stories for our small fandom for FREE and Layla has taken advantage of that. We are small but we are mighty and protective of our own. Let's make Layla regret fucking with Pilgrimage.

[mowatrawa]

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May the 4th be with you all 😘

(Also it being a mermay obikin nartwork, it's two birds with one stone and all that)

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Mages when they run out of mana 🤣

[mowatrawa]

A few years back I imagined Anakin and Obi-Wan in an Alien AU for the perpetually wonderful @writegowrite‘s birthday. My brain periodically freaks out over the Alien franchise, so here’s another pass at Chief Engineer of the USCSS Equinox A. Skywalker that I did for funsies! See the original art here and read @writegowrite‘s incredible fic that I stole the ship’s name from here!

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Shaving.

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hello there

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sdaikga help me they are so funny...

I'm so happy Shepard's reckless driving that endangers everyone in the vicinity of the vehicle including the passangers is canon

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Shepard: I wasn’t injured. I was lightly stabbed

Kaidan: I’m sorry, YoU wERe sTaBBeD?

Shepard: Lightly stabbed

[mowatrawa]

Misread

“I’m not sure what to do with you, Garrus.”

Garrus looks up with a start from his pile of gear to find Shepard leaning casually against a row of lockers in the Normandy’s cargo bay. He’d been so engrossed in inventorying his arsenal for Williams he hadn’t even heard Shepard come out of engineering.  

“Sir?”

Shepard eyes him from crest to talons, as though he’s a requisitions manifest that doesn’t match inventory. Despite being reasonably sized for a human – in Garrus’ experience, anyway, which isn’t exactly extensive – Shepard barely comes up to his chin. And yet somehow Garrus feels a lot like a pyjack standing next to a varren that hasn’t decided just how hungry it is.

“Well, you’re part of my crew,” Shepard muses. “But you’re not Alliance. You don’t exactly fit in my watch rotation, or know anything about Alliance protocol. Technically, I don’t have any recognized authority over you at all. If you stole this ship from me and waltzed off to hand it to the Hierarchy, you’d probably get a medal.”

“Also probably start a war.”

Alenko snorts from his spot over by the weapons’ bench, where the pistol he’d been working on now lies completely disassembled.  

Shepard waves a dismissive hand. “That’s someone else’s problem.” But then he pauses, face scrunching up in ways that faces shouldn’t be able to scrunch. “You know, it probably would be my problem, actually.”

Human faces are distressingly expressive, and Garrus hasn’t been around enough of them to really grasp what it all means. “Uh, while I appreciate the…confidence in my ability to mutiny—”

This isn’t coming out right.

“—I don’t actually have any plans to steal your ship.”

“Good. Because while I may not have authority to give you orders, I’m pretty sure the Council did just give me the authority to put you out my airlock if you don’t follow them.”  

Garrus’ mandibles twitch in alarm. It’s a joke…right? Humans like to joke. Surely that’s a universal trait. “I’m very good at calibrating weapons.”

Shepard’s eyebrow raises.

Garrus’ own brow plates shift rather desperately. “You asked what to do with me.”

“Right.” His gaze shifts over to Alenko, who contentedly continues cleaning his pistol. “Any good with mass accelerator cannons?”

“Uh, sure?”

Shepard nods towards the infantry vehicle across the cargo bay. “Then familiarize yourself with the Mako over there. Pretty sure we’re gonna get a lot of use out of it.”

Alenko groans and rolls his eyes – that one Garrus gets – while muttering something about war crimes under his breath.

“Yes, sir,” Garrus says quickly.  

There’s that laser-sharp gaze again. It’s like looking a rail gun in the face. But then Shepard’s face breaks into a grin. “Glad to have you aboard, Garrus.”

“Thank you. Sir.” Should he salute? Was that…appropriate? He’s still thinking about it when Shepard calls out to another human stepping off the elevator by engineering, and jogs away.

Garrus blinks. At the weapons’ bench, Alenko shakes his head and chuckles, like he’d seen whatever just happened a thousand times.

“Can I ask…what that was about? That conversation felt like…”

“A test?”

Garrus’ mandibles flare. “Yes.”

Alenko’s smile has softer edges than Shepard’s. “He’s feeling you out.”

“…Feeling me…out?”

“It’s, ah, a figure of speech. He’s pretty good at reading people, but he likes to test out his impressions with a little verbal sparring.”

“I can’t tell if I passed.”

Alenko’s chuckle becomes a laugh. “That usually means you did. He doesn’t often misread people, but when he does, you’ll know.”

“Why? What happens?”

Alenko shrugs, with an affable smile. “Someone usually get shot.”

~

“Do we have a deal?”

A cold, perilous silence falls over the warehouse, where every one of Helena Blake’s mercs stand with the kind of staged relaxation that just so happens to put their hands right by their sidearms.

You trust her? Alenko had asked during their stomach-turning Mako drop, in which Garrus is certain that Shepard waited until death was imminent before engaging the vertical thrusters to avoid smashing against the freezing cold rocks of Amaranthine. Alenko had been right about the war crimes.

No, but I think she’s a lesser evil I can live with, Shepard had replied.

He’d been so adamant this was a friendly exchange that he’d walked brazenly into the center of her band of mercs, who hadn’t hesitated to close in around them. Garrus clocks twelve of them to Shepard’s squad of four, including a sentry on the upper level.  Alenko hangs close to Shepard’s left flank while Williams takes the right, leaving Garrus to bring up the rear.

Relax. We’re all friends, here.

Except as soon as Blake had started talking, Alenko’s stance had gotten a little more square, even though nothing about Shepard’s posture changed. When the silence hits, Alenko’s hand drifts marginally closer to his pistol.

“You know what?” Shepard asks thoughtfully. “On second thought, you can go fuck yourself.”

Before the ‘fuck’ is even out of his mouth, Alenko’ is in his hand and he’s knocking Shepard off his feet just in time to avoid the bullet coming from the sniper’s nest. Somehow, in the blur of running, shooting and cursing that ensues, Garrus and Alenko wind up crouched behind a shipping container while Williams lays down another round of cover fire and Shepard yanks the sniper out of the rafters with a skein of dark energy.

“So,” Garrus says, catching his breath. “I take it this was a misread?”

“Oh yeah.”

Alenko checks his heat sink before his corona engulfs him in a bloom of dark energy. He actually chuckles before he gets to his feet and re-enters the fray, like this is just another routine patrol through the Presidium.

“Welcome to the squad, Garrus.”

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Shepard: *sneaks through at 2 AM*

Kaidan, ficking on a light and turning around in a chair: You wanna tell me where you were?

Shepard: I-I was with, uh, Garrus!

Garrus, turning around in a chair: You wanna try again?

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Painted Quiobi Detectives drawing ✌️