#but his involvement in the slave trade and Dream FINALLY saying something?

[void-tiger]

Potential subject for Professor Hob: Sociology

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic Fic Recs

Do you like radiostatic? Are you looking for something good to read? Here are some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read! As a reminder, if you don't like something listed, just don't read it! And don't bother the author or me! Staying in your lane is free! 😊

Part 2 here!

Finished works

Read 'Em and Weep

Vox and Alastor are on the cusp of a relationship but Alastor worries that he isn't enough for Vox. Val interferes. Now a series!

Get Your Thrill Just to Get At Me

Alastor experiences a rut for the first time and Vox refuses to waste good dick on a panic attack.

Hold Me Like A Grudge

This one's ABO and pretty much just smut. Suppressants fail all over the city! Guess we gotta fuck!

Put Your Fingers Back to the Keys

Alastor gets publicly summoned by Lilith and Vox searches for him.

Escape Was Just a Nod and a Casual Wave

This one's a really cool predator/prey fic where Vox chases Alastor.

Keep You Like an Oath

Alastor sneaks into V Tower and discovers Vox's video logs. It causes a revelation.

Lucidity's Fog

Vox has one final sex dream of him and Alastor together.

How to Commission a Radio Demon Body Pillow (and other assorted things)

This one is based off a tumblr ask thread about Vox having an insane amount of Alastor paraphernalia. It's funny, but it is one-sided.

Would You Download a Demon?

Alastor tells Vox and Rosie that he sold his soul. Vox does something so stupid, it's smart.

Classic and Better

Oooohhhhoooo, this bad boy is what made me start writing again. The characterization of them is so good and I love it so much. Alastor tempts Vox back into his folds and Vox follows blindly.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Alastor lays claim to Vox by biting him. This one is short and sweet. Now a series!

Couple's Therapy

This one was funny and sadly too short. Modern day Alastor and Vox decide to go to therapy as a joke and it actually makes them realize a thing or two.

Bambi

I love this piece. It's cute! Vox and Alastor have two different versions of Bambi-their clashing interpretations lead to an adorable misunderstanding.

Joking Matters

Vox and Alastor got married to consolidate their power and have kept their relationship a secret since.

Obligations

Vox trades for Alastor's soul but it isn't at all like how he wanted. They both cope in their own ways.

Meant to Be Yours

This one's one-sided. Vox gets rejected and takes it really badly. An excellent piece exploring his side.

Bargains

This one is also so so so good. Alastor has a rut cycle and the only person who knows is Vox. However, Alastor hates that he has a rut and takes it out on Vox. Vox just wants to know what Alastor actually wants.

Spite

This one is delicious. It's based off the first episode where Alastor says he pulled a few strings to get the commercial to air. Vox demands that he act in a porno for blackmail.

Just a Slave to Your Instincts

Vox researches deer instincts and uses it very effectively against Alastor.

That One Tuesday

Similar premise to Classic and Better but it involves more of the Hazbin cast and the main plotline of trying to redeem sinners.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Afterlife

This one is light on the relationship but funny. Basically, every rut Alastor goes fucking nuts and takes it out on Vox. However, no one believes him and they think he's going crazy.

666: Live on Air!

An excellent series that does a good job exploring the push and pull between these two and what a relationship between them would look like with all their hang ups and miscommunications.

Seeking Solace

This story plays with Dom/Sub designations and Vox is a sub who hasn't dropped in too long. He calls Alastor to help.

Radio Made the Video Star

An excellent series exploring the arc of Alastor and Vox's first meeting, their subsequent fallout, and their re-connection as they are forced to work on a project together.

Thawing Out

Vox is in an abusive relationship with Valentino. Alastor finds him one night by accident when he's mulling over his relationship. For the first time, Alastor notices that something else might be going on at Vee Tower and he has these awful feelings about it that he can't seem to shake.

The Pitch

Vox swaggers into Alastor's radio tower to find out more about his newest pet project, he ends up limping out. Wink wonk!

Hypnosis, Live in your Bedroom!

This is inspired by the 666 hypnosis fic and it is quite good! It’s another smut piece of Alastor and Vox exploring his hypnosis.

Other Place

This piece is really sentimental. It made me cry and think about death. Basically, Alastor visits Vox on the anniversary of his mother's death and they talk through his many emotions.

This Wasn't on the Agenda

One-sided but funny! Vox and Alastor start a hissy fit in an overlord meeting about their brief sexual history together.

Staticradio Woodland Fun

This one's cutesy! Vox and Alastor are both mythical creatures experiencing rut and so they spend it with each other.

Feeling from Grace

Angel Dust comes to Alastor with some concerns about Vox’s wellbeing. Alastor manages to fuck it up, as he does all things regarding Vox and feelings.

Music on T.V. and Sex on the Radio!?

This one’s funny and sexy. After their little fight on air, Vox tracks Alastor down in his tower to have some good old fashioned fun.

Stay

Alastor can’t seem to let Vox go, even when Vox decides he can’t keep playing this game anymore.

Like Old Times

Alastor pays Vox a visit in his office after their musical spat to say hello.

Deer in the Backlights

This piece is nice in the way that it explores Vox finally getting closure from his obsession with Alastor. Val and Velvette set up a meeting for Vox and Alastor to finally fuck and get rid of their weird psychosexual tension. Vox wonders if this was really what he wanted all along.

198

This one is pure smut and it’s so delightful. Vox manages to mind break Alastor and turn him into his own personal sex toy. I also highly recommend anything by childishsadism, they write very compelling work!

Undisclosed Desires

Alastor and Vox get into another fight and Alastor finds he likes it a lot more than he thought he would.

To Be Yours

This is my own work! Alastor hears Vox open their personal frequency for the first time in years. Curious, he goes to find out why exactly Vox has chosen to break the silence.

Safe with Me

This one's good! It's a modern AU where Vox is a CEO and Alastor is a serial killer and podcaster. After separating as childhood friends, Vox and Alastor meet once again and find love with one another. Now a series!

Bluest Monday

This one is so well written and the romance between them is absolutely heart wrenching. Alastor fears losing Vox to modernity, so he finally accepts Vox’s courting in an attempt to keep the other at his side. This decision has unintended consequences neither could foresee. Now a series!

Addicted

Addicted is really good. Vox finds out he's been drugged by Val for decades and as a result has long term amnesia. He runs away and tries to reckon with a past he can't even remember.

Hypnotic

This one is a rape fic. Vox hypnotizes Alastor against his will and forces him to recount his first sexual encounter as he has sex with him.

Unfinished works

Prey of the Video Star

This one is really really good! After the battle, Vox takes Alastor back to Vee tower, determined to finally make the other his. Alastor, weakened, struggles the best that he can even as the noose tightens around his neck.

Equilibrium

Vox saves Alastor and accidentally creates a soulbond between them. This sets in motion a landslide of unexpected events between them.

The Answer is Yes

Okay, this one is extremely well written. It's a fascinating exploration of Vox and Alastor's relationship through a vignette style. It blends all sorts of memories with modern day and it's really cool. I like it a lot.

Hell’s Televisionary

This one is a really interesting take on Vox and his first few years in Hell. I’m really enjoying it! Vox is new to Hell and looking to make a name for himself. He’s also looking to reconnect with the elusive redhead that helped him when he first fell.

Rival Frequencies

Vox goes after Alastor after the extermination and patches him up. He discovers that maybe his feelings haven’t waned, and he tries to rekindle a friendship with Alastor again.

Tune On In!

This one is based off of an art post where Vox and Alastor got platonically married and details their life together.

Unraveling Emotions

Falling in love makes a sinner’s heart human again and their second death permanent. Vox has never stopped loving Alastor. Alastor makes a mistake and Vox nearly pays the price.

For my friends who liked my post, I hope this finds you!

@rae-does-stuff, @drakepad-luv-2000, @motherarts, @freakshowmemories, @bratpfanne-of-doom, @superpersonpatroleclipse , @nocakesformissedith , @coins-that-never-land , @matrixbearer2024, @dancingafterdark ,@pedi-bug , @starlightthenightwing , @unnecessarilysalty

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can we get like. A pirate AU where James is the captain of a ship and Sirius is like a Private in the Navy on a ship that James's crew attacks. But instead of killing Sirius James is like 👀 and Sirius joins the crew and they're in love❤️❤️?? You are doing gods work carrying this rarepair on your back.

((A/N: Warning for mentions of slave trade and past child abuse)) 

Sirius knew that he could've thought through his escape plan a little better, but he'd been desperate to get away from his family, by whatever means necessary. He needed to do something that they couldn't pull him back from. Joining the military had been the easiest, most solid answer that he'd been able to come up with. It was bad for their image if they pulled him out of that, but they could do it. Their reach was long and powerful, and Sirius knew that. Military wouldn't just be enough; he needed to get away. 

So he joined the navy. Sailors spent all their time on ships, hardly ever in port. With no war on, they didn't even fight. They were little more than guards to merchant ships carrying valuable cargo, and Sirius didn't mind that at all. 

He sort of minded being told what to do all the time, but he figure out that the better he got at his job, the less he was ordered around; there was no point in telling him what to do if he was already doing it, after all. 

He kind of hated his fellow crewmates, but that wasn't a surprise. Sirius didn't get on with other people, and he was still content to be away from his parents. 

Sirius wouldn't describe himself as being happy with his new life, but he'd never been very happy to begin with, so it was no real loss. He knew that freedom was a dream that could never be attained. He'd been born into a prestigious family, and while he'd reaped the rewards, he wasn't willing to deal with the consequences. His father had called him spoiled, and his mother had said he was being ungrateful. The truth was that Sirius was plenty grateful for what he'd had growing up, but not who he'd had it with. 

He hadn't been a part of the navy for a full year when it ended. He'd always thought that if he was pulled out of service, it would be because his parents yanked him out, or maybe that he finally lost his temper and assaulted a superior officer. In a way, the latter is what happened. He just... didn't get discharged for it because there were bigger events at work. 

Pirates attacked them, and that was around the time that Sirius learned the 'valuable cargo' they were guarding were slaves-- it suddenly made sense why a single ship had needed an escort, but it didn't make it any less reprehensible. They were under attack and the chances of any of them making it out of this were slim, so Sirius figured it was well within his rights to be the shite out of his captain. 

Whether it was considered improper conduct or not-- which, to be clear, it definitely was-- Sirius was rounded up with the rest of the sailors that still lived when the attack was over. The worst they'd do was kill him; pirates didn't have time to be inventive torturers, and any way they could kill him would be quick. Even the more frightening ideas would only last for a couple hours before he died. That being said, he didn't want to die. He rather liked living. They were on their knees, waiting for the verdict as the pirates deliberated. 

He could hear one of the pirates talking to his captain, but he couldn't hear what was being said. All he knew that was one second, they were talking, and the next, the captain was squat down in front of Sirius, peering at him curiously. Sirius met his gaze evenly. "You're not like the others," the captain said. "What's your name, love?" 

Pirates were weird. Who called someone 'love' before killing them? "I'm pretty sure you don't need to know someone's name to kill them." 

"Who said anything about killing you? I know I didn't. What's your name?" he asked again. 

Sirius didn't have a good reason for why he refused to answer. Best he could figure was that he just didn't like being told what to do, and if he was about to die, there was point in being accommodating. This pirate captain could say as much as he wanted that he didn't plan on killing Sirius, but he knew that pirates didn't take prisoners; it simply wasn't feasible. He didn't want to answer, so he just stared into the captain's eyes and raised an eyebrow; if there was one thing he was good at, it was being annoying. According to Regulus, at least, but he had plenty of evidence to back up that claim. 

After twenty seconds or so, one of the other sailors next to him muttered, "For fuck's sake," before saying, loud enough that the captain could hear him, "Sirius Black. His name's Sirius Black." It was one of the lieutenants, which meant that he'd almost certainly known about the slaves in the merchant ship.  

Sirius had the urge to kick him, but he couldn't do it without falling over, what with his hands tied behind his back and all. He settled for glaring at the man. He didn't turn his head quickly enough to catch the spark of realisation in the captain's eyes. 

Instead of the pirate captain saying anything about his family or the hefty ransom he could try to get for giving them back Sirius, he just said, "Like the star." Then his gaze slid over to the lieutenant and down to his shoulder where his rank was displayed, and his face hardened. He looked back at Sirius, his expression clearing again. "Moony?" he said, pointing at the lieutenant. 

The next second, there was a sword sticking out of his chest and he made a horrible gurgling sound. Sirius flinched, and he wasn't the only one. The sword pulled back out, and he fell, lifeless and face first, on the deck. 

"Don't worry, Sirius Black," the captain said quietly, like this was something just for the two of them, "that's not going to happen to you." 

Sirius clenched his jaw. It wasn't the reassurance the captain wanted it to be. Going back to his parents and that sodding house was nothing short of a nightmare. 

All the same, the captain was true to his word, and Sirius wasn't killed. The same couldn't be said for the rest of his crewmates, but a few of them did live to see the next day. 

None of them were prisoners, and that was as strange as everything else about this had been. It made sense that they wouldn't have jailcells, but it didn't make sense that they let them roam free. That just wasn't safe. And it certainly didn't help that Sirius had no idea why he hadn't been killed. The captain had been dead by the time the battle ended-- and it had been a short lived battle-- and the rest of the higher ranked officers had been killed. All that was left of the original crew was Sirius and a handful of other privates. Did the pirates think they were harmless because they were new? But that theory didn't hold because from what Sirius had seen, these pirates weren't stupid. They had a reason for keeping these particular crewmen alive, and he wished he knew what it was. Sirius? He was obvious. Ransom, a grateful reward for transferring him safely, whatever they went with, that was smart. The rest of the privates didn't have those sorts of family connections, though. 

Sirius had never liked being idle, and when he had more reason to be cowed, he had a tendency to act out-- or, as Regulus always said, act stupid. As far as stupid ideas went, this was harmless. He went on deck, and when he saw someone struggling to keep hold of the rope and get down where they needed to tie it off, he went over and said, "Want a hand?" 

"Tie this off," they said, tossing the slack rope down to him. After he did, they gave it an experimental tug, then hopped down. "You must be Sirius," they said with a grin. 

He blinked. "How d'you know that?" He hadn't met any of the pirate crew, and he certainly hadn't been introduced to them. 

"You're not on our crew, and James only cared to mention one of our passengers to me. I believe the phrase he used was 'devilishly handsome'." Now that they were closer, Sirius could make out all the freckles dotting across pale skin. He guessed that some people tanned, and other people just freckled. He caught sight of coppery red hair tucked under their hat, and that explained the resilient paleness, at least. 

Sirius blinked some more. "Who's James?" 

Their grin widened. "He must really be in it if he forgot to introduce himself. He's the captain. I'm Lily. Normally, I would follow that up by saying that I'm available to someone like you, but I think James would get pissed with me if I even thought of stealing you out from under him." 

"I'm supposed to think fondly of someone that kidnapped me?" Sirius said with a snort. "He'll be waiting a long time for that to happen." 

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "We kidnapped you? That's news to me. The way I see it, we saved your life. You would've been around slavers for years before they realised you weren't one of them. When that day came, they would've killed you." 

"I find it hard to be grateful when I'm about to be delivered into the hands of my family," he said, even though he was grateful for the save; the Navy crew would've tossed him overboard. 

"You don't miss them?" 

"Not one bit," he said immediately. 

She hummed, then glanced out at the ocean. "If you're going to be up here, you might as well help me. C'mon." 

*

"You did what?" James asked, staring at her, dumbfounded. 

Lily rolled her eyes. "It's not like I went into his cabin and pulled him out with my feminine wiles. And, in case you forgot, you never introduced yourself to him. He asked questions and I answered them. I wouldn't be surprised if he confronted you about it tomorrow," she said with a sly smile. She liked to meddle. Normally, James thought it was funny, but that was because normally he wasn't involved. It was so much easier to find her funny when it didn't effect him. 

"Please tell me you're joking." 

"Why would I joke about something like this?" Lily asked innocently. 

James narrowed his eyes at her. He couldn't tell if it was genuine innocence or if she was faking. Knowing her, it could easily be either one. "You did not tell him that I thought he was cute. Right? Lily, tell me. I need to hear these words from your mouth, right now." 

She cocked her head. When she had her hair down, it did a fair job of distracting him from the point. With her hair tied back though, James was not so easily deterred. "I thought you told me to stop lying to you." Definitely fake innocence. 

"You are such a pain in the arse. Why do I keep you around?" 

"Because I'm your second best swordsman." She crossed her arms and leaned forward. "Man to man, James. What're you planning on doing with the privates from that ship? We aren't going the direction we do to drop people off. We're going straight to the free colonies." 

He looked at her for a moment, debating if he wanted to tell her or not. Eventually, he settled on not. There was a certain amount of push back he was willing to deal with, but it would be more than that if he told her the truth. "It doesn't matter what order we do it in, Lils. It's the same end result. I'll see you in the morning," he said, heading to his cabin. 

*

As Lily had predicted, Sirius came up to him the next morning. It's what woke him up, actually, which meant he wasn't fully dressed when he stumbled to the door. 

"What?" 

Sirius's eyes tracked over him before flickering back up to his face. It was, admittedly, gratifying, but it didn't explain why he was here so early instead of waiting until after they'd gotten some food in them. "You have some questions to answer." 

"Do I?" James asked, rubbing one hand tiredly over his face. 

"Am I prisoner?" 

"What? No, of course not." 

"Then where are you taking us?" 

"You'll see when we get there," he said grumpily, then he shut the door. He was not a morning person, and what he hated even more was getting woken up before he was ready. If it was an emergency, that was one thing, but this was decidedly not an emergency. 

It took him about thirty more minutes of being awake to realise that he'd been an arse to the bloke he wanted to impress. Wonderful. He meant to apologise the next time he saw him, but Sirius glared at him before he could get close, and he figured some time to cool down might do him good. 

*

James had made mistakes. In life, generally, but specifically he meant today. The way he'd started his day with Sirius had been getting off on the wrong foot, and it had only gotten worse as time passed. Sirius knew how to hold a grudge, that's for sure. 

As much as James would like to say that it was an annoying aspect of someone growing up rich, he liked it. Sirius was bloody fit, and no amount of him glaring at James changed that opinion. In fact, he thought it might've made it worse. His crew respected him, and he was friendly, so there was a decent amount of smiling. As captain, his word was final, so there was a certain amount of distance. Even Remus and Lily, his closest friends, knew that there was a limit to how far they could push him. But Sirius didn't care; he didn't care in a way that didn't take away from James's authority, so it's not like anything had to be done. James had double-checked by telling him to do something, and all Sirius had done was nod and go off to do it. In hindsight, not his best idea, but at least he knew that he didn't have to turn on captain mode with him. 

James was full of bad decisions, but he couldn't get himself to stop. He looked at Sirius, caught sight of his jaw or his thick black hair or his piercing grey eyes, and all rational thought left him. Sirius was hardly the most experienced sailor that James had met, but his competence was hot. He had big hands and he knew exactly how to use them. James knew that getting hot and bothered over one of his crewmen was a recipe for disaster, but he looked at Sirius and he wanted. He didn't know how to turn it off, and he wasn't sure he would even if he did know how. Fancying Sirius put a fire in his stomach that made him feel alive, like a reminder of all the things he loved in life. 

After dinner, James was manning the wheel while Peter got ready for his night shift, and that was when Sirius approached him. He tried not to show how surprised he was, but he wasn't very successful. 

Sirius didn't say hello or give any lead up. He just stomped over to him and said, "You're giving me back to my family, aren't you?" 

"That was the plan," James said, even though he didn't want to and he normally wouldn't have bothered. If anyone asked-- and people had requested it before-- he told them that he couldn't risk it. Which was the truth. He wasn't putting his ship and his entire crew at risk to deliver someone right to their doorstep. Hell, even with Sirius, he wasn't bringing him all the way; he'd never make it back out if he did that. 

"Is there-" Sirius swallowed thickly "-something I can do to change your mind?" 

James blinked at him. Every point of Sirius's posture screamed that he was uncomfortable, but it sounded like he was propositioning James. And this, Lily, is why you should keep your big mouth shut, he thought. "I'd have thought that you wanted to go home," James said, ignoring what Sirius was attempting to offer. "Most people do." Even the people that no longer had homes. It wasn't something they could attain, but they wanted it all the same. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that Sirius might not want to go back. 

The ship gave a long heave, and James braced his foot on the bottom of the railing. Next to him, Sirius put his hand on the bannister, moving easily with the motion of the larger waves. 

"Do you not want to?" James asked. 

"I'd rather die," Sirius said, his answer plain enough that James knew it was true. 

"Then we won't bring you back," he said easily. "Was that all you needed?" The unease was gone from Sirius's posture now, but there was no chance that he wanted to stick around and chat with James. That being said, all he wanted was for Sirius to want to stay and talk to him. Talk on the deck, in the dying light of the sun, and feel like he was falling in love all over again. He didn't expect it though. He knew that Sirius would probably say yes and then leave. 

"Yes," Sirius said, but he didn't leave. He didn't say anything further, not yet at least. He just stayed there, looking at James. 

He'd always thought that he was pretty good at reading people, but Sirius's expression couldn't be described as anything other than closed off. 

Sirius stayed there for several minutes, only leaving when Peter started making his way up the steps to relieve James. As he left, James was struck with the feeling that something important had transpired. Hell if he knew just what it was that had happened, though. 

*

James's interest in Sirius had never been a secret onboard, and not just because Lily had told Sirius flat out that James fancied him. James always let his eyes linger too long, and the frequency with which his eyes strayed to Sirius made it quite obvious. 

What came as a shock to everyone was when Sirius started returning that interest. It wasn't in any way that was as obvious as James's feelings, but it was there. No one was more surprised by it than James, to the point that even when Sirius was kissing him desperately and grabbing at bare skin, he almost didn't believe that it was happening. 

"You like me," James said wondrously. It could've been a dream. He would've been convinced that it was a dream, actually, if not for the little details that dreams never contained. The swollen lips, the too-dry hands, and the fact that there was no amount of practice that made snogging someone new on a ship easier than doing it on land. Until they learned to move together, there was going to be a certain amount of awkwardness that they had to deal with. 

Sirius grinned at him, happy and utterly unashamed. "What gave it away?" 

"You used to hate me," James said, as if Sirius hadn't said anything. 

"I didn't hate you," he denied, tugging James a little closer. 

"It felt that way to me," James said. He wasn't judging. He'd killed a lot of people that Sirius had worked with during their rescue. 

"I thought you were going to send me back to my parents," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "And you were acting like a total arse by ignoring me and acting like you were better than me." 

"What if I am better than you?" he asked curiously. 

"Don't worry. You're not." 

James laughed, and then Sirius was kissing him, and thoughts about Sirius having hated him at one time was far from his mind. Even if he was right and Sirius had at one time hated him, it was a thing of the past, now. 

*

"Potter!" 

"Which one?" Sirius called down, leaning out from his perch with a shit eating grin. He wasn't holding onto the wood with his hands right now. He was prevented from falling only by his legs wrapped around the nest and linked together, and with the way he was hanging, it made his thin shirt cling to the taut muscles in his abdomen. From where he was standing, James could see a patch of familiar tanned skin because of the way his shirt fell. The spyglass he'd been using dangled from one hand as if carelessly, but they all knew he had a firm hold on it. James looked up at him and could only think of how much he loved him. 

"You know damn well I meant the captain," Remus yelled back. 

"Then just say captain!" Lily said from the front of the ship where she was looking through her own spyglass. "We do this every time!" 

The crew amongst all of them laughed to themselves as they went about their jobs. 

"You bloody well know why," Remus groused. 

"Did you actually need something, mate?" James asked, even though he was always amused by these conversations-- and had been since the very beginning, when him and Sirius had gotten married. He continued working on strapping his sword on; they were preparing for a battle, after all. 

"We're running low on gun powder. Unless you want to buy more from Rosmerta the next time we're in her bay, but there's no point when they should have plenty." 

"We'll check on what they have and see how much cargo space we have available," James said. Fresh water was of the highest priority, of course, and it took up most of their space below deck. That they had to plan for any people they rescued didn't make it easier. The fact was that they didn't often fight in a manner that required gun powder, but if Moony requested it, then he'd check. Plus Rosmerta's blend was more powerful than what the British Navy carried, so sometimes it wasn't worth getting it for free. 

Sirius winked when James glanced up at him again, then pulled himself to a normal sitting position. 

"How's it look up there?" James asked Lily. 

"Looks to be a barge, Captain." she said. 

"Sirius?" he checked. 

"Not seeing anyone guarding them." 

"This'll be easy. Like finding rum in a pub," Remus said, and James couldn't help but agree. Stealing from the government, even when the ship in question wasn't running slaves, wasn't exactly something he would lose sleep over. And, he thought with another glance up at his husband, there was no one else he'd rather be doing this with. 

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Women of Ottoman make me so sad especially when people hate on them. Those women lived horrible lives. Most of them were kidnapped, sold, thrown under a psycho Padisah. How can you wait for them to care for your kingdom? Of course they were going to survive for themselves and for their children. None of them deserves the hate they get. I hope God put all of them in peace. No human should go through such terrible things.

Totally agree Anon.

Women from Ottoman Empire cannot be for example compared with women from the West – first and foremost, they were slaves that at the very beginning lost their families, homes and even had to change their name and religion to have any chance at making a new life. Some lost their families very early, and often it also affected them emotionally when they grew up without having familial bonds. Even as consorts, they were one of many, and they had no legal status outside their children, Even mothers of princes other than hasekis were referred to as “Mother of Prince X” in records, and mothers of daughters were even more invisible. They had a very limited access to outside world, there was no way a woman could ascend the throne as a ruler in her own reign, other than as regent. Not to mention all matters connected with fratricide and kafes, it was living in constant fear. It’s hard to compare them to European queens, who had more stable and safe position even if they also had to face misogyny and oppression .

It was no fairytale, even in the show that didn’t show a lot of atrocities involved in slave trade and focused on those women who still somewhat “succeeded”.

I will use this opportunity to discuss some double standards about those who succeeded vs. those who didn’t pertaining to the TV show, but will later come to the crux, I promise.

The faux feminism in this fandom is astounding to me,including the glaring obvious double standards depending on who fan favourite is - and fan favourite is often who is simply “the coolest”, “most victorious”, “most stylish”, “most lucky”, generally young, beautiful, badass, and successful, not sad or depressed. We all know reactions to Hürrem and Mahidevran doing the same things back in original MY - when Mahidevran did awful things to Hürrem, she was just pathetic jealous woman, but when Hürrem did multiple times the same or worse things to other women it was “yass queen” and she ‘fights for her love, so touching, so strong, so great, self defence”. Suddenly Hürrem is allowed to do so because she”s “not like other girls, so not like these pathetic dumb losers”. Hürrem was strong, cunning, and smart, but she also had one clear advantage over all her “enemies” - the love of the most powerful man in Ottoman history. She made multiple mistakes too, but could always count on Suleiman turning a blind eye or forgiving her - something that Mahidevran or others could never count on.

Frankly, even Hürrem vs. Mustafa was often treated more as Hürrem vs. all this “pathetic” women that fought for Mustafa’s case aka Mahidevran or Suleiman’s sisters in fandom. Suddenly Mustafa cannot even defend his own mother because he immediately had it coming for “choosing the wrong side”. Even if you disapprove of him defending/not abandoning his mother, e.g. choosing to poison him sounds a little disproportionate, don’t you think? I said it and I will repeat it again – Hürrem is a character very similar to Cersei – yes, she suffered a lot because of a system devaluing women and yes she’s a survivor and a strong woman who managed to make life for herself in that system – but she’s not a feminist character because she actually only uses the system to her own advantage (and often perpetuates it), and actually displays a lot of traits of internalised misogyny, voicing multiple times how she is different from other girls and this is why she must be the only one by Suleiman’s side, while other women aren’t even entitled to dream about such things. She condemns Mahidevran for wanting to be the only one and being jealous, but then when Suleiman is with other woman she’s all “I’m not like pathetic Mahidevran, I must be the only one”. Same with multiple comments that she often makes… Hürrem was sassy &sarcastic, and had many good comebacks, but it makes me sad how people often cheered on and applauded those worst ones that again display internalised misogyny, like her mocking Mahidevran why she cares about her appearance so much when she doesn’t have a man to share a bed with? Or her again being all “I will give birth to many boys, and you won’t even give birth to a girl”. Again, that whole society was misogynistic and other women also were influenced by it, like they all wanted to give birth to a boy mostly…but often it is about status and wanting to raise/maintain rank, while Hürrem boasts the fact that she gives birth to many boys as again a trait to show how special&strong she is, even part of her reaction to Mihrimah’s birth is her unable to accept the fact that she could give birth to a girl and being disgusted by the fact.. yes, she accepts her later on and her reaction does also stem from being aware of how misogynist the system is, but it shows precisely that – yes, she is influenced by the system and suffered because of it, but at the same time she begins to display same behaviour that she suffered from, tries to cut herself from others in disadvantaged position. And yes, not all characters had similar reactions to giving births to daughters, and mind you Hürrem already had a son&became sultana, plus was Suleiman’s clear fave that could hope for more children. She wasn’t in the worst situation, even Hafsa and Suleiman were very happy at birth of a girl and nobody criticised her for it. Conversely, in MYK Kösem states multiple times that she wants to give Ahmed both sons and daughters, and when she’s pregnant with her second child, she says she wants a girl now for a change. Even when Ayşe hopes for a boy so that Murad’s anger may be melted, she’s happy about Kaya’s birth&clearly loves the baby from the start & is distraught when she is taken from her. Hürrem was never intended to be viewed as feminist, always justified heroine.. this is why instead of making her first bad deed be a revenge on Mahidevran, who had treated her horribly and unfairly, she attacked the person who was most kind to her of them all and who recently went through the same exact shit. Some people hate Gülnihal, but then say Hürrem wasn’t a homewrecker because she had the right to make life for herself in harem.. true, but so did Gülnihal, and it’s not like she could refuse to go to Suleiman’s chambers pls. It wasn’t to be seen as right, it was clearly shown that Hürrem can be both the oppressed and oppressor at the same time from the start. If they had wanted to make her character only all about revenge, they would have again made her gone after Mahi, not innocent Gülnihal, her “best friend”. And people going how Mahi is irredeemable, but with Hürrem it’s so okay because she’s cool while she slays..eh. I admit I never liked Hürrem because personally she never appealed to me, but I totally get why people stan her because she’s an interesting, three-dimensional character (and yes she does have a softer side too), I’m just bothered by some making her some empowered heroine who is excused for everything by the fact that she was a slave and suffered a lot because of it – because you know she is not the only one who went through the same shit – the harem is full of such women, for start. Even statesmen like Ibrahim or Rüstem are slaves (of course as men they have more opportunities for a career etc.), eunuchs attending ladies are slaves… This whole system is based on slavery, yet she often behaves & talks like she’s the only one who lost her family, was kidnapped & mistreated.

And even Nurbanu becoming her successor was accidental because she actually wanted her dead later, though of course Nurbanu was still clearly inspired by her. She never intended for anyone to follow her example and to make her elevation become a permanent element of Ottoman system, and it’s symbolised by her decision to bury the “ring of power” (lol) with her (though of course what Nurbanu did with taking it anyway was plain disgusting).

I think that trying to examine why this character behaves like that is more interesting than simply go YASSS QUEEN.

Thus said, I hate these reductive“takes” calling these women “bitches” because yes there are complex reasons why some of them have become pretty cruel, so while there are no excuses for some of the behaviour, the simple word “bitch” does not cut it at all.

/Yes, I discussed Hürrem here because out of all MY/K characters she seems to be the least hated among major female characters & biggest fan favourite,/

Anyway, the point is that neither Hürrem nor Mahidevran are the villains of the story. The show makes it clear in its last episodes that Suleiman is the true villain – he was the most powerful man at that time, when the padisah’s position was truly strong, as Gülfem put it in the finale “even leaf cannot fall without your approval”. He’s not as dumb or passive as it may seem at first glance -of course he needs to pretend to be objective and just, but he has his own agenda just as everyone else. Moreover, he pretended to be the one trying to ease conflicts… yet he was often the one enhancing them. Even from the start when he gave the ring he had promised Mahidevran to Hürrem&and in many ways humiliated her… then he did the same with giving Isabella necklace he had promised Hürrem. Bah, it was clear he often enjoyed making Hürrem jealous because it flattered his ego. He ultimately even enhanced the conflict between Selim and Bayezid to get rid of the latter, who was “the more dangerous son”. He was always pulling the strings.. he allowed Selim to buy Bayezid from Tahmasp by the way he conducted negotiations because he knew Bayezid would get rid of his brother on the road. It’s practically what Gülfem says to him in last episode again. He knew what backlash was directed at him following Mustafa’s death and he didn’t want another son killed in front of him. As Mahidevran said in the final episode to Mihrimah “It was your father who chose the lives we lived for all of us”. He was the one that determined the fate for everyone. And even if Mihrimah did not want to admit it in any way in front of her mother’s enemy, she pretty much understood then that Selim was also her father’s puppet in a way and it’s my guess why she ultimately decides to leave the palace instead of plotting revenge for Bayezid (and we know she would eventually be back). It was Suleiman who was pulling strings all along throughout the whole show, even sometimes by choosing to refrain from acting.

In MYK, the situation is different that we deal with incompetent, weak or even tyrannical sultans, who are also sometimes danger to ordinary people or break the Imperial law. Kösem acts here like the protector of sultanate and again we see different standards. Can you imagine how criticised Kösem would be if she had used similar methods to Murad’s or even once had gone to on “night spree” and executed people for banning all these dumb prohibitions? Yet for many Murad is the “cool guy” and “poor misunderstood Murad”. Calling Kösem a tyrant.. please you have an actual tyrant here. Look how much criticism she gets for saying “I’m the state”, while Murad calls himself “shadow of God on Earth” , “sole owner of the Ottoman Empire”, “I’m the justice” , “true death” etc. all the time and he’s “badass”. Or how she’s criticised because she dared to try to influence the Divan to convince Murad to change punishment for his prohibitions. She’s an “usurper”, not the guy who enacts unjust law and oppresses his subjects.

And here we come to crux – look at how Suleiman is treated in MY, everyone is flattering him, he’s the one who for most time isn’t blamed for what is happening, everyone strives to be in his good graces, his sons step on their toes around him and idealise him even when he behaves like a total asshat. Even when he dies people try to remember him for his “magnificence”

Now look at Kösem, a female ruler, who was turned by scapegoat by people when something went bad and she had far less freedom to make choices and yet far more criticism, blame shifting and insults thrown her way. Suleiman is credited “for making sacrifices for the Empire”… but he really didn’t have to execute all the people he decided to kill, and his decisions truly affected everyone badly and led to further mess, starting from Ibrahim’s.. It was especially visible in case of Mustafa – he was obviously innocent and didn’t intend to rebel, but after what happened rebellions did begin.Conversely, each difficult decision that Kösem made led to stabilisation in Empire and prevented unrest, yet what she does is interpreted by some as “wanting power for sake of power” because woman cannot act in favour of state nation or dynasty – there’s only personal interest or power hunger. Her life is clearly framed as tragedy both by the “curse” of her witnessing the death of everyone she loved and her death being a parallel scene to her capture - because she was never truly free.

Interestingly, IMO Suleiman for all his talent and his achievements, fucked up the succession issue – succession by combat truly began to run its course during that period & no longer even fulfilled functions for which it was practiced – to put on the throne “the strongest” contender, one with the biggest support, also most successful military commander – while it’s true that era of conquest was naturally over and Empire had to become more sedentary, it still doesn’t make Selim the strongest or best suited candidate for the throne after Suleiman – his not going on campaigns etc. and being more of palace sultan had nothing to do with him recognising the transformation, but simply lack of interest in state matters and preferring to have fun than to rule. He wasn’t some demon, but he was terribly passive & lazy. And him not being a warrior was the least of his problems. Suleiman had extreme power and authority, he introduced first law reform after Mehmed the Conqueror – the fact that he allowed such contest (and well his sons didn’t even wait for his death to start a civil war) was a bad decision when it came to long-term planning. Some may say maybe he would have done something concerning move to seniority if one of Hürrem’s sons had been the eldest… maybe, but we will never know. Contrary, while all Ahmed’s sons died during Kösem’s lifetime, we know her legacy connected with anti-fratricide law lived on – after her death fratricide was a rare occurrence with only a few special exceptions in specific circumstances.

Of course there’s also the matter that Suleiman’s era and Kösem’s era were totally different – here it was even a success to manage to stabilise Empire. And here we need to stress how important context is – I always stress how important it is to assess historical figures in context – for me it’s hard to even compare, let’s say Kösem and Hürrem, because they lived in different ages and fulfilled different roles, let alone comparisons between historical figures from other parts of the world, perhaps even from different age. I can’t understand e.g. why Peirce compared Kösem and Turhan to Elizabeth I and Mary Stuart in Empress of the East – both situations were completely different, the only thing they had in common was that there was a power struggle between two powerful women, which ended with one of them executing the other (and we don’t even have 100% confirmation of Turhan ordering Kosem’s execution because such thing wasn’t officially in her power). I appreciate Peirce a lot, but TBH this comparison was just dumb for a professional historian.

Kösem’s case really shows how loss of innocence may be used as weapon against you – very early on, she gets the lesson even with Ahmed – the moment she first became involved with scheming following the death of her father, he got mad at her for the duration of her whole pregnancy – he didn’t ask why she had done it or any other details – she wasn’t his “ideal fantasy” from the portrait anymore and this was what mattered – and only then changed his mind when after so many futile attempts made by Kösem to talk to him, she finally forced him to listen to her explanations & motivations, and subsequently he became all “I will make everyone pay for every tear of yours & for making us endure pain of separation”. Ah okay, but don’t forget about yourself ;) And once Kösem stopped being “şehzade’s dream” with death of Ahmed and was truly her own political leader, she became to be more and more exposed to this with the passing of time and once she acquainted more and more power.

And don’t forget some male historians praising Turhan for “giving the power back to the rightful hands aka men”… it tells you all, and it’s false anyway, since it didn’t mean Turhan losing interest in state affairs and only caring about the harem (and honestly, “Köprülü was “her man”, she didn’t choose someone she had no influence upon). That was what she decided the Empire needed at that particular moment, not because she realised that politically involved women sucked lmao.

- Joanna

[glimmerglanger]

Sooo we know Anakin and Ben went to a wedding for Nith and Padmé but BEN WAS UNDER A HOUSE?! I’m gonna need some further context on how those two idiots are passing the time. I’m sure it involved a nonchalant Ben and Anakin clawing his eyes out at being driven to heroism for this man. Basically I just wanna know how and what they’re doing (other than each other), what are they doing post-war for an occupation, I’m just checking in on the boys okay :P

:D OH THEY’RE GETTING INTO TROUBLE. This ended up ALSO hitting a request I got for Anakin Proposing to Ben, so it’s a two-fer. Thank you for asking about these fooooools! :D

Anakin had dreamed of going home at the head of an army for nearly as long as he could remember. The Hutts, all the other slavers, stirred a disgust in him that had never slept. They were a blight on the galaxy, and he’d never understood the Senate’s reticence to do anything about them.

The fact that a Sith had been leading the Republic around by the nose for almost two decades explained a lot, he supposed, but there had been corruption, even before Palpatine rose to power. Senators who saw their pockets lined by the slavers, who were inclined to look the other way and pass off the problems in the Outer Rim as… minor issues, of no concern to Core worlds.

Anakin wondered, briefly, if Chancellor Organa planned to uphold that status quo. It would have been easy to relax. To claim that they needed to recover after the war. To sweep aside other problems and claim only victory.

Anakin told Ben all his concerns, all his worries, pacing around the small space they’d been allocated on Coruscant in the immediate aftermath of the war, and Ben raised an eyebrow and said, “Aren’t you friends with Senator Amidala?”

Anakin paused in mid step, frowning at him. “She’s an old friend, yes. Why?”

Ben shrugged, reaching out to grab Anakin’s belt, tugging him closer to say, “Why don’t you talk to her about this, then. She’s got a lot of power right now, you know.” And it was a good idea, but one that Anakin didn’t pursue right away, because he was, abruptly, more focused on other concerns.

#

Somehow, Anakin didn’t expect that Ben’s suggestion would actually work. Somehow, he figured the entire thing would be delayed, put off, once more. But it wasn’t. They were allocated resources. They were sent off. And, suddenly, after years of waiting, no one was telling him that he had to keep swallowing all the injustice, the cruel unfairness of the galaxy.

Something inside Anakin eased with each fight, with each organization they disrupted, with each person they freed.

It was a difficult slog, miserable and dangerous each day. They drew bounties almost immediately, slavers offering insane amounts of credits for their heads. A bounty hunter blew up a building with Ben in it, and Anakin--

Killed him, dug Ben out, took him somewhere relatively safe and patched him up.

Their little campaign had a cost, taken out in sweat and blood, and Anakin paid it willingly, but, brushing Ben’s hair back while he slept… Well, sometimes Anakin wondered if he’d asked too much.

#

They made terrible progress. The bounties on their heads grew higher. It felt almost inevitable that, eventually, they’d miss a step. Luck was bound to turn against them, sooner or later. When it did, it was on Tatooine - of course, Anakin should have expected that - and he was alone, and when they took him, he spared a moment to be grateful that Ben wasn’t there.

The bounty hunters didn’t kill him. He was, apparently, worth more alive than dead. Wanted for questioning, he was told, when he woke, groggy, in an overheating cell. There was a collar around his neck, shut too tight around his skin, so he felt each beat of his heart. He couldn’t feel the Force at all.

He said nothing, nothing at all, on the entirety of the trip to whoever had bought him, no matter how hard they asked their questions. He thought about Ben, about his smile, the brightness of his eyes, going somewhere else in his head.

#

The bounty hunters brought him to a Hutt. It wasn’t a surprise, truly. The Hutts had their fat, slimy fingers in every aspect of the slave trade. Anakin was dragged in covered in chains and blood. They forced him to his knees in front of the giant, ugly worm, who spoke in a low rumble to the bounty hunters. He spoke in Huttese; Anakin hated the language, but knew it. “Where is the other, the partner?”

“We couldn’t find him,” one of the hunters said, shrugging. “But we got--”

“My orders were that they both be brought to me,” the Hutt said. Anakin didn’t recognize him on sight, but he was one of the biggest Anakin’d ever met.

“And we’ll bring the other.” The hunter shrugged. “Give us half the bounty now; we’ll be able to--”

“You’ll receive your bounty when you’ve completed the job,” the Hutt said, and for a moment Anakin thought they might all fight. But the hunters only inclined their heads and left, leaving him in the Hutt’s stinking presence. The worm said, not looking at him, “You’ve been causing me no end of irritation, Jedi.”

Anakin sneered up at him, his mouth remembering how to speak Huttese. He left the comment about being a Jedi alone. It wasn’t the Hutt’s business. “I’m just getting started.”

The Hutt laughed, shaking all over as he threw back his large head. “You’re finished,” he said. “And so will be your little friend. He’ll be brought to me, and then you will both be executed. I’m almost glad they haven’t found him yet. It will give me more time to decide what to do about you. The only question is…” the Hutt looked at him, huge golden eyes narrowed. “How shall we pass the time?”

#

They passed the time with pain. Anakin hadn’t expected anything else. He sank into his head, into his bones, going away from it. He had long experience with that. It was easier, when he could access the Force, but not impossible without.

He held onto the bright memories of Ben and gritted his teeth while the Hutt’s servants worked over his body, asking questions he wouldn’t answer. He lost track of time. Lost track of everything but thirst and hunger and pain.

The Hutt visited, frequently. He liked to lounge across the room, slaves hand-feeding him wriggling delicacies, breathing heavily while he stared. Anakin ignored him, ignored the questions about where Ben might be, and the suggestions that he would be fed, alive, to a Rancor, ignored them all, until the screams finally started.

He laughed, then, listening to blaster fire and explosions. The Hutt stirred, across the room, demanding of one of his guards, “Go, find out what is going on, right now.” The guard slipped from the room as Anakin grinned, tugging at the bonds around his arm. “Why are you smiling, Jedi?” the Hutt demanded.

Anakin looked up at him, met his eyes. “Because,” he said, “you spent all this time worrying about finding my partner.” Someone screamed, briefly, much closer to the room. Anakin’s gut tightened with anticipation. “When you should have been worrying about him finding you.”

The Hutt sneered, huge, wet mouth twisting as it moved. Anakin never found out where it intended to go, because that was the moment the doors slammed open. The air carried the stench of blaster bolts and blood. “Guards!” the Hutt snapped, for all the good it was going to do him.

Anakin watched the door, heart kicking in his chest when Ben stormed through. He was grim-faced, both sabers lit and moving. He moved impossibly. Anakin couldn’t feel him, couldn’t sense him, with the collar on, but he knew what it looked like when Ben was drawing on the Force.

His movements were crisp. Perfect. He flowed through the guards like water around rocks, expression unchanging the entire time. “Stop,” the Hutt snapped, moving forward, towards Anakin, with a surprising burst of speed, “or I will kill--”

Ben didn’t even slow down in his march across the room. He just kept coming, leaving the Hutt behind in several pieces. Anakin stared at him, breath getting shallow, as Ben deactivated one lightsaber, hooking it to his belt almost absently.

He waved a hand, and metal screamed around Anakin’s wrist before the shackle snapped. Another step and the other shackle was gone. Anakin pushed to his feet, dizzy and ignoring it, full of pains all down his back and body, but barely feeling them.

Ben reached him, then, touched the collar and Anakin felt it sparking, but didn’t care. The Force came flooding back into his body and his mind. He saw the way it bent and spiraled around Ben, thrumming against his skin, and exhaled, hard.

“Ben,” he said, panting, and Ben was putting a careful hand to his face even as Anakin put hands on him and pulled him closer. Ben’s fingers twisted into his hair, holding tight as Ben rocked up onto his toes. Kissing him felt like grabbing the Force with both hands.

They stood, clenched together, in the middle of all the destruction. Anakin shifted back, just enough to look at Ben’s expression, his bright, clear eyes, the blood splattered across his skin. Ben had found him. Had carved a path to him. Had just killed a room full of slavers without breaking his stride. Anakin gazed at him, heart clenched time, and said, helplessly, “Marry me.”

[jackdawyt]

Today I am breakdown down the entirety of 'The Dread Wolf Take You' short story from Tevinter Nights. I'll be plunging into EVERYTHING spoiler-related revolving this tale, so if you haven't already picked up Tevinter Nights, and you'd like to experience this story for yourself, go buy this book and revisit this later.

As I said in my review for Tevinter Nights, to any Dragon Age fan remotely interested in the future of Dragon Age's narrative. This book is a necessity, and a worthy read, trust me on that, it's all worth it simply for this tale.

However, if you'd rather pass up the book for whatever reason, you're in luck because I am analyzing everything in this short story. Enough of that, we've got a lot to talk about, so let's uncover 'The Dread Wolf Take You!'

This tale began in Hunter Fell, just west of Nevarra City, where a dimly lit and conspicuously quiet building laid, called: The Teahouse. An old, hornless Qunari was stood outside, greeting an elf; that would be known as Charter, who entered the establishment.

She wore travelling clothes with a simple cloak and a few daggers sheathed by her sides. She made her way to the bar and told the Nevarran serving her that she came to meet her friends, a party of five. The bar keep said that the room upstairs was reserved for her guests, and that each of them had already arrived.

Charter ordered an Anderfels, Mint Loose Leaf Tea, and the barman oddly recalled if she'd like two sugars, just like last time, which will have been 10 years ago, and many different aliases. She obliged and made her way upstairs, she entered a very large, dim room with a fireplace surrounding four figures in very over-stuffed chairs.

The first figure was an early-middle aged dwarf with a huge black beard. The Carta Assassin. The second figure was a slender man wearing bright silks and a full faced mask with long blonde locks. The Orlesian Bard. The third figure was a pale woman in dark mage robes with staff resting by her chair. The Mortalitasi. And the final figure was covered head-to-toe in dark Vryantium robes with a thin mesh hood, covered with a stench of the ocean. The Executor.

Each of the figures turned to Charter as she entered the room. The Dwarf Assassin noted that she was late, however, the Mortalitasi chimed in and said that, actually, she's arrived just on time. The Executor, who by the sounds of their voice could be either gender, silenced the room, stating that they are each here because they posses a shared interest in the Wolf.

"The Inquisition's Wolf" - The Dwarf Assassin remarked, as he looked at Charter. The Dwarf continued with is doubt that this Wolf is a God, but merely a very old, very powerful elven mage. The Bard jumped in saying, perhaps he's a very young mage. While the Mortalitasi said that he's a demon impersonating an elf.

Once more, The Executor silenced the room. Whatever he is does not concern them, however, his plan and means of accomplishing it, is something that those beyond the ocean do care for.

This was to be a meeting of the best spies of Thedas in one room to share all information on the Wolf, however, The Tevinter Siccari and The Qunari Ben-Hassrath were missing from this gathering. Charter noted that both groups had declined the invitation. The latter is especially disappointing because they had more knowledge of Solas’s movements than anyone else.

Charter opened the floor by sharing her knowledge on the Wolf. The Inquisition knows little about what Solas intends. Much of his research involves the Veil that separates our world from the world of the spirits. He claimed to have created it, and he asked the Inquisition for help activating artifacts to strengthen the Veil. That seemed a possible place to start.

The Dwarf Assassin spoke up, stating that he's only here because Viscount Tethras called in a few favors, however, he didn’t expect to be the best-informed person in the room. The Assassin began sharing his tale on what he knew about the Wolf.

After Meredith went mad with Red Lyrium in her attempts to destroy all of Kirkwall, and Bianca discovered that the thing had the taint. All operations were shut down, after all, Blight is bad for business. Viscount Tethras kept the quarantine in Kirkwall, where Meredith caused so much damage with her lyrium sword, and turned into a blasted statue. If anyone were to attempt to snag a piece of red lyrium from Meredith's corpse, you'd get quite the beating.

The same beating would happen when a Dalish Elf came around asking if someone can get the lyrium idol out of what’s left of the statue. The Elf believed an old legend of his people which spoke of the idol being in Meredith's statue, and if he gets it out, he can free his gods or something like that.

Before the Carta decided to beat the Elf to death, he pulled up a potion and said it would soften the raw lyrium and weaken its magic for a bit, so they could get to the idol inside safely. The Carta tried the technique on regular lyrium, and it actually worked.

The Elf promised to give the Carta the potion, as it could become quite prosperous, and their own weight in gold if they could recover the idol from Meredith's body. And so the Carta decided to.

They sneaked into the quarantined square where Merry the Mad kept watch forever, A couple of the Carta fell over, shaking and whispering, but most of them kept their heads on straight, as they reached the statue. The song in their heads was getting louder, and one of Carta brothers ran off screaming.

They used the potion on Meredith as she opened up, in the middle of her chest revealed the red lyrium idol. It was not much to look at other than two couples hugging, too thin to be dwarves. As they escaped the area, they made it back to their safe house where rogue Templar guards waited and asked for the idol. The Dalish Elf attacked the guards, but was sent to the floor.

The leader of the former templars said that he wanted the potion that changes lyrium, the Carta said they couldn't give it away because the man who knew how to make the potion was on the floor knocked out. The Templar didn't like that, so he tied up the elf, took the chest, and not long after, another man came by. Tevinter, by his clothes, and something about “House Qintara,” he gave the guards a big bag of gold and took the idol.

The rest of the Templars waited for the downed elf to wake up, so they could learn how to create the potion. They slept for a while, still waiting, until they twitched and mysteriously died. Arrows came through the windows and pinned the remaining guards and Carta, one of the arrows hit the Dalish Elf. He died.

The Dwarf Assassin who was telling the story, hid behind the dead elf's body as figures walked towards him. Elves like he'd never seen before investigated the area, no crap on their faces, fancy armour with one of them having a Ferelden accent. They walked towards the dead Dalish Elf's body as they wished his soul away guided by the Dread Wolf.

The Dwarf Assassin ended his story on the note that The Dread Wolf wants that idol, and he’s not afraid to get his hands bloody to get it. He pitied House Qintara, if Solas finds them, well, he hoped that none of them are deep sleepers.

After the group ordered more beverages, the Executor spoke, saying that House Qintara fell with the city of Ventus. The Qunari may posses the Wolf's idol. Charter chimed in, and said that the Inquisition had agents who were there when Ventus fell, the idol was sold or traded to House Danarius.

The Bard spoke up and said that Solas has his own agents, not to mention, the power to kill those who oppose him as they sleep.

The group argued about the validity of the Dwarf's story, the Mortalitasi believed the Dwarf, and had information that supported where the idol went after it left House Qintara. She began her tale on what she knew about the Wolf.

To her understanding, the Mortalitasi allowed a Tevinter mage to visit and perform a ritual. He came from House Danarius, and spoke of his master who had met some misfortune. He asked for their help, that he might change this world for the better. The Antaam, a splinter faction of the Qunari had enraged across Tevinter, seizing their land for the Qun.

The mage who came had a way to drive back the Antaam: he would perform a ritual with the Mortalitasi, directing the course of the Fade against the Antaam, so that every dream, every demon, every half-interested spirit would urge them back to the north, away from humanity. Their resolve would weaken, their invasion would crumble, and all would go back to the way it should be.

They brought the Vint' mage to one of the ritual chambers, deep in the Grand Necropolis. He had brought slaves with him, and an ancient elven artifact, taken from House Danarius before it fell. When he opened the thick chest marked with the Carta’s protective runes - he revealed an idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice, depending upon how it caught your fancy.

Twelve Mortalitasi mages brought forth magic, enhanced it with arcane possessions, and focused it upon the idol the Tevinter mage had placed upon the ground before him. He killed the slaves, withdrawing their blood from the sacrifice.

The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and a spike of lyrium sprang from the base of the idol, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and in a flash, their minds were pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual.

The Black City shadowed the sky, and all at once a great booming roar was heard. Before the Tevinter mage could complete his ritual, the Dread Wolf arrived.

It was no elf, no mortal mage. It was a beast unlike any ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons as the Dread Wolf landed before them. It spoke:

“YOU MEDDLE PAST YOUR UNDERSTANDING, FOOLISH MORTAL MAGES, AND IN DOING SO, YOU THREATEN ALL CREATION.”

The Wolf snapped open its jaws and took the Tevinter mage in an instant as he screamed in terror. It spoke again:

“YOU USE MY IDOL CARELESSLY TO VANDALIZE THE SEA OF DREAMS. NOW FEEL THE PAIN OF WHAT YOU HAVE CREATED.

At once, the mages were back in the Grand Necropolis caverns, its walls shook and cracked, and then a rift of green light rent the ceiling open above, and the demons that had accompanied the Dread Wolf burst into the world in righteous fury, shining warriors with blades forged from the raw Fade itself, and behind them, dimly visible through the crackling light, the shadow of the beast itself, from whose slavering jaws came the final words, roared not in anger, but with quiet contempt. It spoke one more time:

“FROM THIS MOMENT, SHOULD YOU EVER BIND A SPIRIT, THEN YOUR LIFE IS MINE.”

The mages fought off the demons with their lives, one of the fellow Mortalitasi, a noble’s son, sprinted to the body. He seized the idol— its lyrium blade was gone, retracted or shattered, he flung it into the thick Carta chest that had bound its power before. He ran with it, leaving the rest of the mages to die.

The rift closed and the remaining survivors decided to run too, as they sealed the caravan. They searched for the noble’s son and the stolen idol, but he had fled into Tevinter, and with so much of the Imperium in chaos from the war, it was not safe to give chase.  

The Mortalistisi mage ends the story on the note that whether he is truly the Dread Wolf of elven myth, she cannot say—it is not uncommon for powerful spirits to be worshipped as gods, as the Avvar do. But what ever fear the name of the Dread Wolf carries, he has earned.

And as clear as the Dread Wolf’s anger at what we had done— the Mortalitasi binding spirits he considered his own, the Tevinter mage using forbidden blood magic— was the feeling that we had disrupted his own work. He intends something for the Fade, and if he wants the idol, then what ever he intends will be terrible.

The Orlesian Bard continued to stir his tea, the Assassin looks over at the Executor saying that he's been very happy to listen, but hasn't offered anything to this meeting. Before the Executor could answer, the Bard raised his hands saying I believe I know where the mage carrying the lyrium idol went next. The Bard began his tale on what he knew about the Wolf.

During Orlais's civil war a lot of coin was lost, in the Bard's profession, he often spent time searching for Orlesian treasures sold or bartered. He was recently asked to recover such a treasure, a ring that once belonged to Empress Celene herself. He traced this ring across Thedas to the neutral city of Llomerryn where an auction occurred.

As he walked through the crowds, plenty of Thedas's influential were gathered here. An Avvar augur laughed loudly at a Rivaini pirate captain’s dirty joke. A soberly clad noble from Starkhaven glared at an auburn- haired elf whose dagger- knot gave her away as an agent of the Qunari spies, the Ben- Hassrath. A Warden- Commander spoke with a woman who was robed and masked, but as he passed her, he recognized the voice of Divine Victoria herself.

The Bard learned that the auburn-haired elf was not the only Ben-Hassrath agent present. She was giving information to others, and out of curiosity at what the Qunari, so averse to magic, might want at an auction such as this, he listened.

The words were in the Qunari language, which the Bard knew only triflingly, but he heard her mention the Siccari. Curious, he followed the servant, a forgettable human man, as he left the elf. The Bard followed.

Finally, he found the other Ben-Hassrath, deep beneath the castle, in tunnels that the auctioneer himself probably did not know existed. They waited for the musicians  upstairs to begin playing, and when they did - the Qunari threw a small blade at the pouch and a great door collapsed as they entered.  

In the middle of the room, sitting on a satin pillow that rested upon a stone pedestal wrought with protective runework, was the red lyrium idol. Just as the Qunari entered the room, so did another group.

Tevinter Magisters and a Gollum seized the Qunari, they faced each other, the Qunari shouted that the idol is being searched for by a dangerous mage who styles himself the Dread Wolf. He threatens both our people. Leave, and we will have no quarrel with you to night.

One of the Magisters replied saying he is a mage named Solas, and his ritual has already started to affect the Fade. We cannot risk him acquiring this idol and finishing what he has begun.

As they went to attack, the eluvian sprang to life, and as both sides turned, a figure stepped out. An elf in golden armor with a wolf pelt across his shoulder. He looked at them, and his face was empty of all expression.

As one, the Siccari and the Ben-Hassrath turned to flee, screaming in panic. The elf’s eyes blazed once with glowing light, and every one stopped, petrified by strange and terrible magic. Even the golem was living stone no more, its crystals dead and gray as it froze where it stood.

The elf lifted the red lyrium idol from the pillow where it rested. He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other, but the Bard could not make out the words, for they were elven. Then he turned back to his mirror and stepped through its shimmering border.

A moment later, it was dead and dark again. The idol’s journey is now complete, and it has found its master. He will destroy anyone in his way without regret or hesitation, and what ever he intends, I do not believe we can stop it.

As his story came to an end, the Dwarf Assassin said that’s a good story, but I’d rather hear the truth. The Bard shrieked, I beg your pardon! The Dwarf said he believed he could knife a spy, but tailing a Ben-Hassrath team, no way.

The Mortalitasi added that the Tevinter Siccari are anything but cowards, they would not yield, nor run from an elf walking through a mirror, they would certainly attack.

Charter sighed and said that there are many liars at this  table, some more talented than others. I ask for my life. They began to question each others stories, how did the Templars get to the safe house if it was supposed to be a secret? How did the Mortalitasi not know that a Tevinter mage was going to use blood magic.

Charter was quiet, she took a slow sip of tea, and then she quietly repeated - I ask for my life. She looked at the Bard, explaining how she regretted not seeing Solas for what he was when he served the Inquisition. She will regret it forever, and will never make the same mistake again. She exclaimed.

The Bard asked how can you be certain?

And Charter said by observing several small tells, and three large ones. First, that few Orlesian bards would learn to speak the Qunari tongue but not elven, and fewer of those who do not speak elven would know the elven word eluvian, for the mirrors that let the ancient elves travel from place to place. Second, that the Executor has not moved since you touched his hand while he and the Assassin argued. And third . . . that you never drank your tea.

The Assassin and the Mortalitasi turned.

“I know you hate the taste of tea” Charter said softly. “It was a joke around Skyhold. Why would you order it?”

"Because it was a joke around Skyhold,” the man in the dragon mask. He sounded tired. “I was uncertain this costume would suffice, so I did every thing that the Dread Wolf would not . . .  except, it seems, bring myself to drink the tea.”

His Orlesian accent was gone, replaced by the rolling lilt that was almost Dalish. The man in the mask stood, sighed, and took the staff from the Mortalitasi statue’s hand.

He turned back to Charter and removed the mask, she saw his face again, just as she had seen it for all those months at Haven and Skyhold, never suspecting a thing. An elf, bald—the golden locks had been part of the mask. An oval face with full lips, and a tiny scar on his brow. Pointed ears, previously hidden  under the mask and wig.

“Excellent work on the Executor,” Charter said. “You petrified him, but not his robes.”

“I would caution you in dealing with those across the sea,” he said. “They are dangerous.”

“More dangerous than the elf who threatens the world?” Charter asked, and was rewarded with a twitch of his lips that acknowledged the point. “Why did you come? Why you personally?”

“I wished to know what you all knew,” he said, gesturing at the table. “

There are many of you, and you are not fools. As for me coming in person, the Inquisition was involved.”

He returned to his seat. “Why did you come?”

She shook her head helplessly. “Because you told the Inquisitor that you were going to destroy this world,” she said.

“Did you expect us not to try to stop you?”

He sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. I told myself that it was because you all deserved to know, to live a few years in peace before my ritual was complete. Before this world ended.”

“Then perhaps we are not the only ones you lied to,” Charter said. “You do not have to do this.”

His look pinned her. “I have no choice. What I am  doing  will save this world, and  those like you— the elves who still remain— may even find it better, when it is done.”

Charter considered lying, but then she thought of Tessa, with her quick smile and strong hands. "There are those I care for who would not.”

He smiled sadly. “I know that feeling well. I am not a god, Charter. I am prideful, hotheaded, and foolish, and I am doing what I must. When you report back to the Inquisitor . . .” His voice faltered. “Say that I am sorry.”

He walked away, and Charter remained still until the curtain closed behind him. Then she drank the rest of her tea, her fingers shaking a  little. She looked at the dragon mask on the table. Prideful, hotheaded, foolish. Doing what he must. Sympathetic to elves. Said that he was sorry.

The red lyrium idol was of a crowned figure comforting another. It was not much, but it was more than she had known before, she thought. Pulling a small notebook from one pocket, she began to write her report. After all, the Dread Wolf wasn’t going to stop himself.

Oh my goodness, that was absolutely amazing, in an attempt to gather some final thoughts. I've picked out my hot takes from this entire book, that I'd like to discuss. Following the Dwarf's tale first, we've got quite a few things to breakdown:

Solas has a network of agents working for him, many Dalish Elves believe in his cause, and even the Ancient Elves have been acquired for his schemes.

“And now we know that the Dread Wolf has agents working for him,”

The Dalish Elves following Solas believe that he will free the Elven Gods once he acquires the red lyrium idol, they've created a potion that weakens lyrium's effects.

"He’s learned it from a dream. Some old legend of his people says the idol is in her body, and if he gets it out, he can free his gods or something like that."

The Ancient Elves appear bare-faced; having no vallaslin, they equip themselves with fine gear. Some of them speak like normal Fereldens, while others have a hint of a Dalish accent.

"No crap on their face like the Dalish, and they don’t have that little hunch a city elf has, hoping you don’t notice them. They’ve got fancy armor and bows out, and they case the room like professionals. One of them says that the idol must have been moved, and his accent is your normal Ferelden, not like the Dalish, who always sound like they’re talking through a mouthful of toffee."

Solas's agents are chasing down every single source until they find the red lyrium idol, the idol is required for Solas's next phase of action in his attempts to destroy the veil.

"The Dread Wolf wants that idol, and he’s not afraid to get his hands bloody to get it."

Solas can, and has the ability to kill his rivals in their sleep. He or his group of agents killed Carta Dwarves as they slept, which is deemed impossible because they have no connection to the Fade. However, somehow Solas made the Dwarves dream in order to kill them.

“And that he has the power to kill those who oppose him as they sleep.”

The red lyrium idol has been on the wildest goose-chase across Thedas. It was carved out of Meredith's thawed body, sold to Tevinter's House Qintara, then resold to House Danarius, then taken to Nevvara's Mortalitasi for an ultimate ritual, then taken back to Tevinter. Its current whereabouts are unknown if we understand that Solas's tale within the novel was a lie, meaning that he's still looking for it. Perhaps the Qunari have acquired the idol.

"In the middle of the room, sitting on a satin pillow that rested upon a stone pedestal wrought with protective runework, was the red lyrium idol."

The red lyrium idol, still enigmatic as heck, apparently belongs to Solas, or more aptly the Dread Wolf.

“YOU USE MY IDOL CARELESSLY TO VANDALIZE THE SEA OF DREAMS. NOW FEEL THE PAIN OF WHAT YOU HAVE CREATED.”

It means something personal to Solas, more than just an object of power, he cares for it, at least understand what it is. Two couples hugging? A sacrificial en-carving? A crowned figure comforting another?

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other, but I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Whatever it may be. It belongs to Solas, and he wants it back.

Hence The Dread Wolf Rises teaser title for Dragon Age 4 - Solas has already risen in his Dread Wolf form as malicious and evil as he appears. He is truly haunting and is ready to wreak havoc on Thedas.

"The words battered us like storm winds, and the Dread Wolf’s jaws closed upon the Tevinter mage, snapping him up in an instant as he screamed in terror. The lesser demons rushed down upon us, crackling with fire and lightning and our."

The Dread Wolf has taken residence in the Fade where spirits and demons serve him willingly. If anyone dares bind a spirit to their own will, the Dread Wolf will haunt and kill you, for this is the new law he has declared.  

"As the Avvar do. But whatever fear the name Dread Wolf carries, he has earned. While we might visit the Fade, it is his natural home, and the spirits there serve him gladly. They whisper in my dreams now, accusing me of crimes I never."

Binding Spirits and Blood Mage is forbidden under the Dread Wolf's watch. This magic disturbs the ritual he has set in motion for the Fade.

"And as clear as the Dread Wolf’s anger at what we had done— the Mortalitasi binding spirits he considered his own, the Tevinter mage using forbidden blood magic— was the feeling that we had disrupted his own work."

Solas tells his fake tale of how the Bard had witnessed the Dread Wolf acquire the red lyrium idol, though this may not be true, this is true in his story. For instance, Solas shares a very useful insight regarding the Qunari invasion, stating that the Antamm will crush and capitalize over everything east of Vryantium, and northern Antiva as well.

"You all know that the Antaam invaded without permission of the other branches of Qunari government? We had assumed this would hobble them, but it appears the priests and workers were a moderating influence. Without them, the Antaam have crushed the Tevinter opposition in the east, and I fear everything east of Vyrantium will be under their control within a year, and northern Antiva as well."

Solas, as the Bard in the story, shares prominent, influential faces throughout all of the Dragon Age games, like Isabella, Amund the Avvar, Sebastian, Tallis, The Divine, and a most intriguing Warden Commander. Solas knows about all of our previous characters, he's made himself aware of potential threats which could mean that not many characters will be returning as companions in the next game.

"An Avvar augur laughed loudly at a Rivaini pirate captain’s dirty joke. A soberly clad noble from Starkhaven glared at an auburn- haired elf whose dagger- knot gave her away as an agent of the Qunari spies, the Ben- Hassrath. A Warden- Commander spoke with a  woman who was robed and masked, but as I passed her, I recognized the voice of Divine Victoria herself."

When the Bard is revealed to be the Solas, it's made aware that before the Executor could share their knowledge on the Wolf, Solas spoke first, and killed the Executor.

"Before the Executor could answer, the Bard raised his hands. “I believe I know where the mage carrying the lyrium idol went next. S’il vous plaît, allow me to continue its tale."

He later called the Executors "dangerous", meaning that they pose a threat to Solas, out of everyone in the room, Solas killed the Executor. They must know something or have something that can rival Solas. Therefore they will be a most worthy ally in the future.

“I would caution you in dealing with those across the sea,” he said. “They are dangerous.”

What was mentioned at the start, was that the Qunari Ben-Hassrath know the most about Solas's movements across Thedas, making them a huge rival against the Dread Wolf, and potentially a grand ally for anyone against Solas.

“As did the Ben- Hassrath.” She grimaced. “The latter is especially disappointing. They had more knowledge of Solas’s movements than anyone else.”

And finally, Solas tells Charter to let the Inquisitor know that he's sorry once more, explaining that he is not a God, he's simply a prideful, hotheaded fool who is doing what he must.

"I know that feeling well. I am not a god, Charter.  I am prideful, hotheaded, and foolish, and I am doing what I must. When you report back to the Inquisitor . . .” His voice faltered. “Say that I am sorry.”

That's it for this breakdown on 'The Dread Wolf Take You', there's been so much to uncover and this was just one story in Tevinter Nights. I am working on a separate post/video that will look at everything Tevinter Nights tells us about Solas going forward, so don't worry, the Solas speculation has just begun, I've merely just given you all the facts for now. But there's plenty of tinfoil ahead!

[ohdeargodnotyouagain]

The Manamarthian (Part 1)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: A personal OC named Cassander Roshack is a prince of a nation of warriors. But due to massive climate change and bad decisions, he is forced to search for alternative ways to help his people. He goes on adventures with the Mandalorian named Din and returns home to settle his title before returning to his side. Unfortunately, the universe has other plans for him first.

Warnings: Smut, language, mentions of being beat to a pulp, orphanism, terrorism, murder, bombs and weapons and shit. IT AINT FOR KIDS .

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He watched as his mother tended to her garden not far from where he sat on a lounge chair, Sinda between spread wide legs now she wouldn’t wander too far. While Anamarthia was still warm, it was not the inferno that it had been. The sounds of a sparring match to his left drew his gaze. Things were… nice, at this moment. His father tapping Emory on the thigh with his rod- what they used instead of swords in their match. Emory playfully growled, stepping back up to meet his father who danced away expertly. Giving him a little twirl to toy with him in return. It was all light-hearted, Nora was showing Lykana how to do a new style of braid in her hair.

Though the only thing off about this dream… This very, wonderful dream, was that there were two infants beside Nora and himself. Nora, Emory’s wife, hummed a soft song as she arranged a large group of flowers together in a weave. Her mouth was moving but he could not hear what she was saying. His eyes finally focused on the green infant, with all too big ears that Cassander felt his heart swell with love for. The little one that he had taken to, and vice versa- Yodito. His brow furrowed when a shadow came over him.

His eyes turned away from the baby to look at whomever he wanted to thank for offering shade to his eyes. Cassander looked up into the shine of beskar and felt his entire soul settle into his chest. The protection, the familiarity of the stance, the man underneath it… Cassander grinned up at him, breath stolen for a moment at the sight. His voice caught in his throat as he rose to reach for him, so glad he had come to see him earlier than they had planned to meet.  

He was drawn sharply away by sound- a boom of pressure when a multitude of ships entered the atmosphere. Cassander looked up, startled by the world soundly screaming around him. Erupting in bombs and shrapnel flying around him., he felt the Earth shatter around him. He had a moment to look at his mother across from him. The Empire-

A single thought passed between him before he was scooping little Sinda from the ground in front of him, Emory’s barely a year old- the spot where Nora was not vacant and unbearable to see. Lykana sat there, her hand half raised still and purple splashed across her face. Her eyes focused on the heap that surely had been one of their kin. So many dead- So many- He snatched her hand, pulling her like a doll with him as engines flew over the tops of their heads.

He was running- running- the ships came through their streets and fired until buildings were plumes and there was nothing left but rubble. He held them so tight, their crying falling on deaf ringing ears- even for themselves. His own body trembling as he pushed through once-friendly streets to only find soldiers rounding people into transports. He rounded a corner- desperate to get to the docks. A familiar figure stood, meeting his gaze the moment he entered his space. Instantly the red glow of kyber ignited. An entire legion of storm troops behind him raised their weapons-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke with a start, eyes frantic and wild at the sirens going off around him. He let out a breath when he realized it just… Sinda crying again. Cassander rubbed his eyes, pulling the little one closer to him gently, “I’m up- I know- I know-” He told the baby between him and Lykana, who woke with him and turned away. Clearly having her own rough night. “I know, sweet. Things are gonna be alright.” He cooed to her, getting up to change her diaper that was quite damp.

He was now, more than ever, so grateful for knowing how to take care of babies. Lykana, Yodito, and now Sinda- he moved with tired eyes to the makeshift changing table they had set up. Everything was makeshift for now- taking care of a baby in this environment with little resources and not even formula… life hadn’t been a walk in the park for anyone.

The had landed here a month ago; damaged, out of supplies, out of fuel, -out of everything. They were lucky enough to land here with the state the ship had been in leaving Anamarthia. Over the few weeks, the ship had turned into a hunk of metal out in the desert, that was armed to the teeth at least. He had made some repairs and salvaged what he didn’t immediately need. This ship had been the same one he had planned to leave to see Din in; the only problem was, it wasn’t nearly ready yet and not set for two people and a baby. But just like before when he had met Din and Yodito, he was stuck out in the damn desert again.

Why he was cursed with the desert, he would never know. His eyes cleared a bit as Sinda calmed and huffed a little, tuckered out from her little rampage. She had the fire of her father, and it brought a brief sliver of pain through his chest. He wrapped her back up and sighed, looking down as she calmed and he rubbed her tummy slowly, furthering her into quiet. Cassander looked out a dirty window into the darkness of the desert, just barely seeing the wind kick up little puffs of sand. They had things they could trade, but Cassander was trying to save what they could to barter if possible.

He wasn’t sure what he was thinking landing here. Everything had been mostly panic response since leaving Anamarthia. Of all things he had considered, the Empire coming to them was not one of them. It was far out of the way of most traveled routes- and besides… His eyes downcast a bit thinking about the Sith who had taken an unhealthy liking to him. Anamarthians were now a rare species. Blood to make elixirs, eyes to make jewelry, immortal and ethereal slaves or dogfights. The fate of the scattered Anamarthian people were endless. Now, he, his sister of barely nine, and his infant niece were all that was left of a royal family of a planet now under Empire control.

Cassander snorted at himself, washing his hands briefly. Now he was in the middle of nowhere, hoping for the off chance to see a shine of a Beskar.

He often wondered if Din would look for him when he missed their meeting date. Would he wait at the bar for a week? A month? No, Din wouldn’t stay anywhere for a month.

Thoughts of his lovers and the little one had been on his mind since he left. Would Dinn find Anamarthia? See the planet cracked and kyber crystals harvested… maybe hope he…

He shut his eyes as he rocked Sinda back to sleep, checking the time after she started to hiccup. He had to head to work- and that involved Lykana and Sinda coming to. Food was a constant need. And scrapping their ship down to bare bits put food in their mouths for now. He had three sacks and Sinda to carry- eventually had could get enough fuel and supplies saved up to jump to a more localized planet. Perhaps even get a message to Din somehow on a familiar planet they traveled to frequently? If all else failed, he could try a nicer city than this to raise the girls. His main priority was them.

As Sinda relaxed and fell back to sleep, Cassander couldn’t help but smile just a bit. Din was one of the best bounty hunters he knew- if anyone could find him. It was him. He looked across the ship's hull to see Lykanas light eyes glowing in the shadows. When he approached, he could see how watery her eyes were.  "I know." He sighed, “It’ll get better. You okay?"

She stared at him, staying quiet as ever. Lykana had been mute as a board, shocked and quieter than a mouse since the day more than half of her family was murdered in front of her. His throat was tight as he looked at her, before pushing a smile, "Yeah, me too kid." He slid back into bed and replaced Sinda between them. The ship only had one bed and an infant sleeper. But the desert was cold and the metal did them little favors, and none of them deserved to sleep alone.

"I promise you in my life, it's just a little rough right now. But I will make this better." He promised her, and she nodded slowly, he raised a hand to brush her hair from her face. The smallest of smiles bloomed, Cassander huffed in relief, "There ya go. We got us. Sinda, you, and me." Lykana swallowed and nodded again, turning her face into her pillow to fane sleep. Cassander swallowed, knowing all of it was little comfort. But he was nothing if not determined to make it better. He had to make it better. Somehow.

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Hor'Jou was a shark that owned almost fourteen thousand mining operations across dozens of planets. Processing every single resource that came into their factories and turning it towards market trade. On this particular dust bucket of a planet, buried beneath bedrock, was a jewel rare in more ways than one. Lazuli was not only beautiful but also ground to make refined powders that were critical in making holographic projectors for droids and much more.

And the man owned every single business in town. And had taken something that had not belonged to him- and thus in response, he had been contracted out as a mark. Paz moved slowly through the crowd, watching as his companion met him stride for stride on Hor'Jou's other side as he walked down the middle of the street. He was half stork, long-necked, and with small fluttery pigeon quality to his step that made him avian. While Paz’s mere presence pushes people from his path, you simply ghost around them. You moved carefully in the crowd, like water between rocks in a brook.

Hor'Jou's yellow eyes watched Paz, not taking notice of you flowing from path to path, nothing heeding your progress. So distracted by the mountain of Mandalorian, he fails to notice you directly on his left. When he stepped left, you stepped forward and had him instantly by the scrawny neck. Closelining him hard across the beak, twirling him off balance into the alleyway, Paz blocked it while you did the honors.

The bird squawked as he fell, only for you to slip between his legs and pen him in the back with your knee. One shock collar later, he was muffled and his feathers bound. Paz grunted impatiently from the entrance where you whistled a sweet little tune, making him turn to pick the loan shark up and throw him over his shoulder in a single gruntless motion.

He stalled a minute, looking you up and down before bowing his head slightly. All he’s willing to do around the bounty, but delighted by what he had witnessed over his shoulder. You gesture for him to lead and he departs, clearing your path to saunter behind him. People move, or stare when it comes to Mandalorians. And you had no problems with that. Moving back to the ship, Paz didn’t seem even slightly bothered by the weight on one side of his shoulder.

You felt a smile curl your lips at what he looked like underneath, reimagining him almost made you trip and fall. A low growl of annoyance met your ears and you gestured toward the dock. "They're not even done adjusting the fuel line yet. Ice him, we'll ditch some extra scrap, eat and head out. Date night." You purred to him.

"Frivolous." He grunted, "But acceptable. Fly us someplace new. I tire of their work." Paz immediately descended to the lower deck, going to freeze their bounty until they returned home. The upstairs was the main space. Complete with two rooms instead of many standard models. Escorts assignments were a lot easier when you just locked them in a room until you arrived at the destination.

After paying the landing and repair fees, you went to the front. Typing new coordinates into the navigation box, setting a landing somewhere different to inspire some- Your helmet was lifting off your head! Immediately your hand snapped to the offending wrist, a knife from your belt flicked open and you're prepared to-

Paz' hand came around and held you back in the chair by your throat, hand squeezing and sidestepping the knife that would have made a very nice chunk of his flesh peel. Knocking the knife from your hand, keeping you in one place by his other hand alone- and when you fought against his grip he huffed a laugh. “Finish.” He ordered, letting go of your wrist now you could complete your coordinates. His free hand came up to undo the straps of the heavy chest piece around your shoulders.

"Are we.." You breathed the question, rolling the dial near your ring finger to darken the view tint of the glass. Paz growled his response. "-Yes."

"We've-" Your voice hitched as he removed your beskar and you dropped the knife, letting it fall from your hands completely now. He slipped his hand between the folds of the under armor and taking and a handful of your breast. "-only got twenty minutes before the next landing zone." The words tumble from your lips, "I-" He squeezed, two fingers encasing your nipple and rolling it around. "Need to-" his thumb rubbed over the main artery on your neck, letting you continue to struggle to talk. "Land us." Between his grip on your throat or his warm fingers rubbing around and over your nipple- you forget the point you’re trying to make.

His voice was low, but suddenly very human. The lack of the modulator let his rumble come from his chest, "Put it on auto-pilot, and come with me." Paz releases your throat and you take a slight gulp. It hadn’t been enough to choke you but it was firm and delicious.

He retreats then, dropping armor as he goes back to your shared quarters. You quickly hit the required sequence now you don’t both die, then rip the helmet from your head to put it beside his. Then the rest of your armor went on your dash to catch up with him.

The god stood before you, chiseled muscles and defined valleys that you could swear the Maker had designed and been lost in… No wonder he had been chosen to be of the Mandalore- the Maker knew the man would be too powerful otherwise. You smirk as you cross the space fast, flinging yourself at him. He caught you, twisting to throw you down onto the bed. His growl was feral as he pulled you back by your ankles towards him on the edge of the bed. "I loved watching you-"

You gasped, sliding toward him, spreading your legs now he could pull you both right against each other. "Oh? Like me doing the dirty work?" You’re not sure when the relationship had changed- but it had. And you never wanted it any other way.

"I like watching you move." He lay between your legs, cock hard-pressed into your inner thigh. “It’s fluid- graceful.” His fingers run over your chest and rubs, a man starved for the feel of you. “You hunt well. Snare well. The tribe is better for it.” So many praises were hard-won from the man normally. Perhaps it was because they came to share the same room, but you’re feeling the warmth in your chest.  He can’t get enough of touching you, in the armor he controls himself. Naked with you- he speaks his mind as any Mandalorian would to another. “Every hit you made had purpose and sharpness.” His teeth ran along your rib cage as he explored, your teeth biting deeply into your own lip.

“You’re stroking my ego.” You breathe, reaching between you both to touch him. Your hand goes to the back of his neck, bringing him close for a kiss. There was nothing more you wanted than to taste him, and he responded in kind. His tongue invaded your mouth, and sucked as it retreated.

“Filthy.” He huffed, his hands sliding to your ass and then back up again. You lay beneath him, tiny compared to his broad chest. His teeth ran along your collarbone as he worked his way downward- out of your grip with an unwilling shiver. Paz practically loitered around your breasts. His teeth nipping, tugging and the actual bites he gave sent shivers down your spine.

“Paz-” You gasp at one particularly hard bite, making his body shift into the bed with a grunt. Your body felt rigid- pent up after today. You were expecting so much more of a fight from the bounty. Teeth nearly drew blood from your lip as you looked at the trail he was kissing down your stomach. Retreating away from you is not what you want-

“Hush girl.” He growled, answering your needy whine. He was just as ready as she was, “You’ll get what you want.” The way his dark eyes looked up at her, the little bite he gave her inner thigh as he wrapped his forearms around your thighs.

You gasped the moment a long flat tongue rolled over your pussy. A ghost of a word dying in your throat in a shout- Fingers expanded and gripped into the sheets at the second. His tongue was long, wicked, and thick- moving between your folds. He circled your clit before he sucked, making your entire body seize. “MAk-” Rose up before his tongue was inside you- then even lower. His tongue pushing into her ass and back out again, licking from bottom to top, then back again. A little scream came up before he practically dropped you onto the bed.

You hadn’t even realized you were off of the bed at all- and gasped with shaky legs. Your body felt cold exposed but it didn’t take long before he was back on you. Growling and feral like the beasts their ancestors fought. He rutted beneath you, the heat returning near instantly as he licked his fingers and lips, like a picky cat that enjoyed his meal. You spread your legs now he could bring his cock closer to you.

“Look at you, all spread wide for me.” His voice was tight, he slicked himself with his hand knowing you were soaked between them. “So wet…” As his breath left him, he slid into you- rocking forward at first. Letting you have him slowly at a time. He was thick- by far the biggest you have ever had. You tense at first, thankful for his earlier relaxation techniques as you breathe out, clutching at his forearms as you ease into it. He holds there, panting with his head resting on the pillow beside your head that he pulls closer to you to use.

He may look like a damn brute but he was a thorough lover that she would not trade. Paz gets his legs underneath him as he gives you more and more- filling you up until your position makes it a little hard to breathe suddenly. You can’t help but love the feeling though. He has you pinned into the bed, cock fully sheathed inside you. Your hand finds the bulge of his cock your guts, and begins to stroke it. And you can feel it twitch inside you, and your moans are loud and shaky, “Kriff- Paz, you’re-” You rubbed him through your skin, his hand trading for yours as he bites his lip, gripping your hips to start rolling into her.

“Filf-fthy little girl- hunts like a-” He shifted, pulling out and then sliding back in roughly with a little scream from you that muffled the rest of his sentence. “-a beast- and gets fucked by one.”

The feeling of one thrust was enough to make you feel stretched and tinder, shaky, and willing to come apart. He held another moment before he started to pick up speed, railing you into the mattress underneath him. Your breath came in gasps of delight, finding his forearm muscles to grip and hold onto for dear life. “Hol- Maker-” You hear yourself pick up pitch and he does too- in your ship far above prying ears or eyes- you could be loud as you wanted to be.

“Paz!” You scream as he starts to hit a spot he seemed to have a tracker installed on. Flashes of white came behind your eyelids as you tightened around him and felt your entire lower half start to shake and quiver. He absolutely rawed you into the mattress, pounding you through one orgasm before leading you up to one- then he pulled out.

Your eyes snap open, teeth bared on where the hell he thought he was going. Paz flipped you, pushing your face into the pillows and forcing one thick thigh between your legs, with one hand like you were some sort of doll he positioned you- then drove in hard. Your voice muffled by the pillow as he drove into you- again and again. You felt your entire body convulse. Trapped and wrapped in his smell, his scent- the way he moved and rumbled.

You could get lost in this feeling forever.

[growliere]

DnD Recap Part 5: Divine Intervention

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

More of the dnd campaign I’m in with @ryliceracc and dm’d by @jcdonkey Recap under the cut

Arma Co.’s Magical Mansion

The group of Sanguine Order knights escorting the party was called Arma Co. and led by a procyon named Commander Grune, who took an immediate interest in Ru. The group was on their way to Rexford. On the way back to Grand Gorge, Grune let the party stay each night in a magical mansion that one of his lieutenants could summon.

Grune’s 2nd-in-command was a dragonborn named Sir Gesh Norexias who developed a crush on Teefers. Teefers was oblivious. They swapped weapons, Teefers’ Flamesmash burned Sir Gesh’s hands. The legendary hammer seemingly bonded to Teefers.

Teefers told Fafgar and Rorg that Mavarr said his sister Tress is now matriarch of the Thunderpaws. They didn’t believe him but Teefers explained that Po confirmed it. Rorg wanted them to quit the quest and for the 3 of them to just go home immediately. Teefers was worried about his bounty following him home. Fafgar was feeling out of his depth and wanted to go home.

Teefers and Po believed that Wyber was in on the Dax Valero job, but Quelaana was unconvinced. Teefers was beating himself up over what happened.

Ru and Grune began sleeping together, making Fafgar jealous and depressed. Teefers told Fafgar not to worry about it, under the belief that Ru’s fling with Grune was purely physical and that they actually care about Fafgar.

Dreaming of Trouble

Teefers, Ru, and Quelaana were given a dream by Bjanka of a desolate Yeensylvania. The Ashfingers were already decimating and assimilating other packs and marching eastward towards the city of Yeenora. The trickster deity Mir hijacked the dream and told them that what they were seeing was happening in real time.

Mir took the party to a beach where the Thunderpaw-Rustmanes had fled, tired and bruised. Teefers recognized his mom Choska and sibling Travvi among some of his cousins, but his sister Tress and uncle R’nulf were conspicuously absent. Teefers tried to interact but phased right through them. Red lightning approached in the sky, but Mir said it was nothing to worry about. Teefers accused Mir of messing with his dreams before about Callie Greenbottle, they cryptically both denied and confirmed their involvement simultaneously. Ru persuaded Mir to show Choska and Travvi a dream that Teefers and Rorg are alive. Ru and Quelaana told Teefers to not tell Rorg and Fafgar about this until after Talon Company was dealt with.

Another night Ru dreamed of seeing a crab on a beach. Teefers dreamed of becoming huge and effortlessly killing a bunch of Ashfingers on the beach.

Another night Quelaana used her dream powers to have dream intercourse with Ru. She told Ru that she slept with Po, and that she wanted it to be kept a secret. Mir appeared in Teefers’ dream in the form of Master U’Krot, the orc monk champion of the war goddess Cyren. Mir propositioned Teefers but he refused. Mir explained they wanted Teefers to know what U’Krot looked like, and teased him about how attractive U’Krot is.

Road to Grand Gorge

Rorg noticed several times that Teefers was hiding something, but didn’t say anything.

A harsh blizzard stopped everyone from getting into Grand Gorge. A birdfolk goose named Flanders who was obsessed with gambling wanted to gamble with the party. No one was interested.

Teefers told Quelaana about the U’Krot dream, she said Mir did the same to her, even though Quelaana had met him before and already knew what he looked like.

The party interrogated their prisoner who explained that they were hired by a very rich and powerful man from the casino city of Gal Vedas.

Grand Gorge again

Wyber was totally innocent. Ollie and Skorg had told him they were going to shadow the party due to our inexperience, Wyber sent Po along because he had a bad feeling.

Wyber had helped Sheriff Ordonez clear out an Obsidian Conclave hideout. His prisoner Larry Lylax was the head of the Grand Gorge branch of the Obsidian Conclave. He negotiated for protection in exchange for information, the sheriff offered protection in exchange for deputies. The guy that hired the Obsidian Conclave was Jimmy Beelbezos, one of the top financiers in Gal Vedas, but Larry didn’t know who the anonymous client that approached Beelbezos was.

Wyber blamed himself, and paid the party even though Dax got away. He planned to retire after one last job, and this job would be to go to Gal Vedas ahead of the party and obtain info on Beelbezos.

Fafgar and Rorg had dealt with Beelbezos before when they were tracking down Teefers, as Beelbezos was involved in the slave trade. They almost killed him but ultimately let him go. Fafgar wanted to go with Wyber if Po was also going.

Flanders was chased out of an inn accused of cheating and people were threatening him if he didn’t return the money. Ru persuaded him to give the money back.

Ru and Po went to a tavern with Flanders tagging along. Ru persuaded Grune to give a speech so some of the locals would sign up to be deputies. Ru propositioned Po again, but she declined. She also admitted to sleeping with Quelaana.

Rorg demanded that Teefers tell him what he’d been hiding, and Teefers explained the dream. Rorg insisted that he, Teefers, and Fafgar go home immediately. Fafgar explained his desire to go to Gal Vedas. Ru convinced Rorg to give Teefers an ultimatum. If they don’t get the other champions together within 2 weeks, Rorg will drag Teefers home.

Teefers told Ru about the U’Krot dream and asked for advice. Ru assumed Teefers had developed a crush on U’Krot, Teefers was still in denial.

Teefers insisted that Ru talk to Fafgar about their relationship before the party splits up. Fafgar wanted Ru to settle down, and they aren’t into that. Fafgar insisted that he’ll prove himself to Ru.

The party split up with Teefers, Ru, Quelaana, and Rorg being teleported to Farn Alda in Merethyl. Fafgar, Wyber, and Po were teleported to Gal Vedas.

Farn Alda

Quelaana fainted, so Teefers and Ru rushed her to where her dad Kerrik worked as a court healer. She was overusing her dream powers. Kerrik was concerned abut everything that’s happened but acknowledged how important the quest is, so he allowed Quelaana to continue. Teefers finally realized that Quelaana had a crush on him, ironically due to her insistence to her dad that Teefers wasn’t her boyfriend. Unaware of this, Quelaana asked Ru if she should tell Teefers about her crush and they said no.

The Blood Moon Monastery

The party met Bishop/Master U’Krot, who revealed that he is a werebear. Flamesmash is actually Muspelhammer, Ru’s axe is called Helios. U’Krot told the party about a puzzle dungeon called the Crucible. If they completed it, they could upgrade their legendary items and Quelaana’s dream powers. Teefers, Ru, and Quelaana agreed to undergo the Crucible. It would take place in a pocket dimension of the Feywild where time flowed differently. Ru propositioned U’Krot, but he declined. Ru bet him that if the party completed the Crucible, U’krot would have to consider spending a night with someone in the party.

They completed the Crucible. To them less than a day had passed, but in the outside world it had been an entire month. 

A group of gnolls from the Bloodteeth pack had shown up a few days prior demanding to speak to the party. Rorg was suspicious of them and wanted to sneak away during the night. He said the Bloodtheeth have joined the Ashfingers. Teefers and Ru decided that the party should talk to them in the morning, because if a fight breaks out at least we’ll have the backup of the Monastery, instead of fighting them outnumbered on the road later.

Dreaming of Answers

Teefers, Ru, Quelaana, Rorg, and U’Krot were all in a dream of an arctic beach. Mir showed up and offered to answer questions. They said this dream was about a new player to the game who would change the fate of the gnolls forever. Teefers asked Mir about their motives about the U’Krot dream, they said they wanted to tease Teefers. Mir teleported them to an iceberg where they met the giant crablike sea god Andyr. Then Andyr had Mir teleport the party to Yeensylvania to show them what happened to the Thunderpaw-Rustmanes.

The party landed in a battle between the Ashfingers-aligned Mudknuckle pack and the Thunderpaw-Rustmanes. Tress is a champion of Andyr and R’nulf seemed to be her bodyguard. The red lightning was associated with Andyr, and both Tress and R’nulf could harness it. Mir made the party participate in the battle. Leading the Ashfingers was a giant white gnoll with pure black eyes. The white gnoll almost killed Tress, Teefers ran to her but phased through her. Luckily a coastal gnoll (tan fur, no stripes or spots, saberteeth) saved her. Tress killed the white gnoll. The Thunderpaw-Rustmanes had won, but it was still quite the bloodbath.

Mir explained that the battle they just saw happened 1 year ago. The dream of the pack on the beach that they said was happening then actually happened a month before this battle. Mir said Teefers’ immediate family was alive and well, but the Ashfingers have conquered nearly all of Yeensylvania, and canid pirates from the north were helping the Ashfingers. Tress is one of the top 5 candidates for becoming the Grand Matriarch of Yeenora. Mir refused to tell Teefers who the coastal gnoll is since Tress would want to tell him herself. Mir told Ru to not let the party become divided.

Mir had caused Quelaana to sleepwalk into Teefers’ bed and U’Krot into Ru’s bed. Rorg wanted to sneak attack the Bloodteeth, but Teefers and Ru talked him out of it.

[bookdragonlibrary]

Soft cuddles

After this episode, I wanted some fluff and cuteness so I finished the fanfiction I started this weekend. I wanted to write headcanons and of course, the story slipped from my hand and became a whole fanfiction... Tell me what you thought about it, first time I wrote something this long in English (and in Spanish). The story take place between episode 17 and 18.

Most of their dates, Bart and Ed spend it in the Youth Center. They could always use a little time between two trainings or conselling sessions and thanks to the zetatube, Bart could always run to the Watchtower - or to the new Outsiders Tower now - for an emergency or just run to the end of the world. No big deal with superspeed. He is the only speedster to be on time whatever the situation. Something his grandm- Iris complains to Barry, that he could take his grandson as a model about it. He was even late at their wedding! 

He’s rambling again. So they spend most of their free time at the Center. The place where they bonded and became close friends and then boyfriends. At first, Bart started to talk to Ed because he could not afford being close to Nathaniel. Not because he killed his grandpa while being controlled by the Reach in his timeline - he always knew the guy wasn’t at fault. No, the real reason is he wasn’t his Nathaniel anymore, the one he knew, the one who took care of him after he broke free of the slave camp. Maybe as a payback for killing his grandfather, the only Foundator Leaguer remined on Earth in his time (Batman and the others never came back to Earth but he ignores if it was because of the trial result or the Reach). Bart never dared to ask him, he was grateful anyway. 

Well, he never really talked to Ed before. Just met him in Taos after their liberation from the Reach ship and briefly on the World War when the fourth of them liberated them from Mongul and the Reach with Arsenal’s help. Maybe he was in the Watchtower too? The day Wally-- 

He brushed the thought away. Need to think about something crash.

In his time only English and interlac were allowed. The first one since it was the second language of a lot of people around the world and the second one to trade slaves and Earth’s ressources with other alien species. When he came back to the past, he was amazed by all the languages. He quickly took all Dick’s- he means Nightwing’s expressions. He loves how he plays with English. He was so proud their flawless leader was amazed by his slang. Well it wasn’t technically his, more the expressions of his time. But Nightwing was the second one to pick them after Jaime and the Team quickly follows. Of course the first foreign language he learnt was Spanish, thanks to his best friend. Milagro was kind enough to lend him children books so he could improve his skills. He’s totally crash at reading and understand spoken Spanish. Not so much with the pronounciation, especially rolling his tongue witht la doble erre y la jota. Most of the time, Jaime’s sister laugh at his attempts to reproduce her sounds, but mostly his facial expressions while he’s trying to. If he isn’t shy to try his Spanish with the Reyes, no way he would do the same with Ed... He wants to impress him, not sound ridiculous. So he only uses words withing R sounds involved.

His love for languages isn’t enough. Something even crasher.

Eduardo. His confidence when his was a act. His relaxed personality when his is only energy. His eyes, sweet whenever they look at him. His deep voice full of love. And his hair... Since he met him again in the Center, he dreams of touching them. He retained himself, knowing it was rude to touche people, especially their head, without their consent. He knew that the hard way. When they finally started dating, he asked him if he can, blushing. Ed just smiled and lowered his head without a word. Bart ran his fingers in his curls and they were so soft he melt. So was Ed with the massage. 

Ed’s smile. The little smirk he does before a snarky comment or a prank. Ed loves prank his mentees. Especially the new ones. To make them laugh. To make them forget their trauma for a moment. To show them meta powers could be fun and positive. To show them it’s possible to heal, to accept them, to embrace them and be happy. 

That’s why Ed signed up in the first place. That and also try to get closer to his papá, to help him, to compensate for all those months he acted like a brat. Eduardo Senior had to move from Argentina to USA to work on the Zetatube. He would have better opportunities and better materials. His mother just died, so maybe he wanted to distract his mind too. So Ed moved with his grandparents while his father sent them money to live. But that wasn’t enough. So he ran away. So he ran to him. He didn’t want to loose him too. What if an experience turns bad? What if he arrives too late and never sees him again? As bad scenarios run in his mind, he isn’t ready for the worst one. His father isn’t going to die, Ed will before him. Because he can’t see how he could survive all this pain. It’s too much. But never enough to kill him. 

And then everything stops. He’s free again. He’s thrilled the heroes bring him to Taos. It’s there his papá works! But the scenario in his mind is too optimistic. His papá doesn’t seem to be happy to see him. Why? He was the whole reason he comes here, He almost died just to see him again. 

But that is all in the past. Now he embraced his powers, he embraces his papá without argument or anger. He embraces Bart too. In a different way. But there is still one thing about him he doesn’t embrace yet. He’s not sure how to call it. How to call himself. He doesn’t know yet. So they aren’t an out couple yet like Leslie and Andy are. Still not at ease with coming out, not when he still doesn’t know what to respond to people. Why just says “i”m in love” isn’t sufficiant for them? Why he has to find a label for it? Obviously he knows he isn’t straight. But he’s still unsure between gay and bi. He forgot about the word pan since Bart was so confused about why he was talking about liking bread and Ed didn’t even know where to start to explain him the word comes from a completely different language (Was it from ancient greek or latin by the way?) and the difference with bi since he doesn’t know it himself. He tried to see if he sees girls beautiful or attractive or something but he can’t. He’s just thinking about Bart and nobody else. No one else matters to him. Not in this way. Because Bart is so special, so unique. Not because he’s a time traveler. Not because he’s a hero. Not because of his powers. But because of him. Or a mix of all this. For his innocence about normal, common things. For the sparkles and questions in his emerald eyes while he discovers the world like a child. For the maturity and even the wisedom coming from time to time. For his wide smile because he cried so much tears maybe he doesn’t have anymore, because he knows the powerful meaning of a smile over simple things. For the contradiction like he’s two worlds melting into one. Bart was his hero. Not because he save him from the Reach ship or save the whole world from their invasion at the cost of his cousin, but because he showed him you could go through hell and still make it, still find the happiness you thought was gone forever. If Bart could do it while coming from an apocalyptic world and still remember the simple power of a smile, Ed could do too.

Whenever the two of them have free time, they relax and cuddle in Ed’s room in the Center. Ed isn’t much of a hugger, but he loves Bart’s ones. He’s much more a kisser. They lay in the bed, watch movies, listien to music and God Bart has a lot to learn about it. Or they just cuddle on the bed, most of the time Bart in Ed’s arms, in silence, after bad or stressful missions. And the last one was a big moded mission. For both of them this time. Because Ed thought Bart was hurt or even dead on that crash, which wasn’t crash at all. Watching the Outsiders’ mission on the Internet was a good idea. Or so he thought. The Team did inspire the teenagers on the Center. Wendy considered to take off the collar! She even wanted to go back on training to control better her powers. But it still doesn’t feel enough for him. There are a lot of things he should do for them so they can go back to their family for those who still have one. But one thing he wasn’t prepare for was the stress to watch his novio be beaten up by bad guys, watch him nearly die, unable to do anything, just clench his fists as he’s watching the screen, trying to hide his stress to his mentees. But of course the girls noticed. Wendy just put her hand on his. Andy gave him a reassuring smile and gently tapped his arm to show him Bart and the others finally emerged from the ship. Leslie still acted the indifferent play but at Thanksgiving, she did give him a knowing smile when he went on the car with Bart. He knows Andy is bisexual, maybe he could talk to her about it whenever he’s ready but it feels weird, he supposed to be the concellor here. 

Now his novio is in his arms, safe and sound, silent and still. Something is definitely out. Bart can’t stay still. Unless he’s moded. He healed thanks to Bart, his little bright sun chasing away his sad thoughts, and he wants to give him the same. Give him love, attention, a special place by his side. So he holds him closer in his arms, tight as he likes, petting his hair, kissing his face, soft and slow kisses wherever he can, to remind him that. 

Bart rolls on his belly, looking him above his shoulder, questions in his big eyes. 

“Bart, something’s wrong?” 

“You... you can do it if you want to...”

Ed needs a moment to understand. Bart often catches him off guard, but never this way.

“Qué? No. No, Tito. Lo siento, I didn’t mean to... Why do you think I would...“

Bart has now his face hidding in the pillow. Ed could barely see his eye through his hair. “A girl who did it because her boyfriend won’t be interested in her otherwise...” he explains.

“Is that a romcom or something?” Bart nods shyly, still doesn’t want to meet his eyes. “First it’s dumb. And more important, I would never blackmail you. Mi Tito, te amo. We have all the time we want for this. We can wait to be both ready, okay?”

Bart nods again, now hiding his face in his boyfriend’s chest while he pets his hair. 

“Why did you think I’m gonna leave you?”

“Doi, because I’m annoying...”

“I don’t find you annoying, but... uh... lindo...”

“What? What does that mean?”

Ed blushes, as he often does when Bart is near him. His novio is too innocent and pure for Ed’s good. “I find you cute” he manages to say.

“Really? Even when I’m too fast for this world?”

“Yeah, even when you can’t slow down. I’m also here for that part, right? Did I... did I ever do something that made you felt I found you annoying?”

“No. But what if you loose your patience one day?”

“That’s not gonna happen. I have more patience than you have energy, mi tonto”, he replies as he kisses his forehead.

“Te amo, Edi”, he whispers, without butchering it too much since he doesn’t have to roll his tongue.

Ed knows if he asks him the moon, Bart will find a way to bring it to him.

Ed kisses him again and traces his jaw to his neck, holding him close, his both hands of his waist so his novio would not be afraid of the attention. Bart relaxes, even starts to vibrate like a little purring kitten. And Ed lets him, he just lets him find his pace and his speed. Ed just lets him be himself, without complaining or mocking his weird body. He just adaptes. When he stops Ed cups his face, preventing him for vibrating again, and kisses him deeply. He’s still not used to his novio being so adorable, so beautiful, so affectionate it almost catch him off guard whenever he smiles.

When they start dating few months ago, Ed was too embarassed to give Bart pet names, so cheesy... God he hates the expression in English. Apodo makes more sense than being comparated to una mascota... Well he does like call him bebe and tease him when he complains about it by remind him he is technically not born yet. But he wanted to give Bart a special name, one with a meaning just for them. So he came with Bartito, Tito for short. Bart loves it and Ed can’t stop himself for thinking no one could understand Tito as a love name. Bart wanted to do the same but Edito sounds a little bit too English-like and Dito, while being close to Tito, what Bart loves, reminds Ed another word too embarassing. So Barts went with Edi instead. He even suggested, if Ed still didn’t like the nickname, to call him Teddy, but Edi was just fine. Ed did win him a big teddy bear for Thanksgiving though, knowing Bart loves plushies. He was so proud and happy with his prize almost as big as him in his arms he had to walk the entire time and take the zetatube to go back home. And they could both have cotton candy as Ed was the one ordering it and Bart already had his hands full with the plushie. Maybe it was too much for amigos, but at that moment, Ed didn’t care, just wished to make his novio happy. 

“Te amo también, idiota.” 

Ed kisses his temple, his forehead, his nose and finally, his lips.

He cannot stop himself about thinking what happened in Bart’s past, what could have happened. The time traveler sometimes talks about what happened back then, but never what happened to him. So Ed can only imagine and without something to hold back his houghts, his imagination goes deep, maybe too far compared to reality, or so he hopes. Despite how much he fears what he could learn, he never asked. He will wait until Bart is ready, if he will ever be one day. Ed still hopes Bart never heard, saw or felt something like this because Bart is oblivious and doesn’t understand subtex sometimes, like when he flirted with him and Bart didn’t notice or like last week when Bart suggested him to come for a sleepover to Neflix and chill and litteraly means that as he asked him which films he wanted to watch, if he prefered English or Spanish subtitles or even the Spanish version with English subtitles for him. Or even when girls or this Mexican boy who arrived last week flirt with him and Bart just thought they are nice and friendly. Ed isn’t jealous, he knows people have to be really patient to make Bart understand they are flirting since he took him months. He just watches the scene from distance, just in case Bart needs him, because if he’s oblivious to flirting, he is also to sexual tensions... Ed knows if he can’t be there, Leslie will watch him, kind of protective with the innocent oblivious teens or maybe it was just gay support?

However, this summer, when the Team and he went to the beach where Mount Justice used to be (the only place where Jaime can swim freely whithout risking to reveal his secret identity with Scarab on his back), Bart wore a swim short and a T-shirt, to protect his skin from the sun he said. He does have a red hair skin, like his discrete freckles and his auburn hair with tinge of red reveals, which is really weak to the sunlight and it was (would have been?) pretty grey and clouded in his past, so his body was never used to a bright day. But Ed still fears what he will discover when Bart will be shirtless in front of him. When his fingers run on his back, he feels some patterns, some paths underneath. And when his does find them, he just holds his novio closer. Maybe Bart is oblivious to people being nice but knows they could be cruel instead, because he’s more used to one than the other.

What he does know, though, is they will be just fine. Despite their powers. Despite him not knowing who he is yet. Despite Bart being a hero. Despite the whole Outsiders thing. Despite the meta trafficking and his fear Bart would be kidnapped again. Despite all of that, he knows they will be fine if they just give time to things as the past proved it.

------

Clearly longer than I thought it would be... Maybe a little out of characterisation and a lot of HC for Ed since we don’t know so much about him yet. 

I think it’s funny I think about Ed not being the jealous type with his hugger boyfriend before the episode drop xD

[slushrottweiler]

Between the Lines - Part 1

How Varric Tethras fell in love with his editor: a story in letters.

Bioware wont let me romance the dwarf, so I’ll do it myself Read on Ao3

9:28 Dragon

To Ser Tethras,

As you have been informed, your previous editor has parted ways with Kirkwall Publishing, leaving the production of your popular serial, Hard in Hightown, on hiatus. I am writing to introduce myself as Serah Lawfield's replacement, and to inform you that we shall re-commence publishing your serial by the end of this month.

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I am very excited to begin working with you on developing your story. I have personally enjoyed reading your work, and believe we can work well together. Whilst I have looked over your previous edits with Lawfield, if you have any requests or person preferences for the editing process, please let me know and I shall attempt to adjust my process to suit you.

If I do not hear back from you within the next week, I shall begin edits on your most recent manuscript as per the in-house style manual.

Thank you again for choosing to work with Kirkwall Publishing. We are honoured to help share your stories.

Hope to hear from you soon, Regards Y/N Y/L/N Editor at Kirkwall Publishing

…...

Here is the information you requested on New editor. Had 3 men tail her. Notes are attached

(a collection of papers, written in three different hands. One page had scratchy drawings of flying books and quills in the margins.)

Y/N Y/L/N Employed at MP for approx 18 months. Human. Free-Marcher. Originally from starkhaven. Low-born. Educated.Young Resided above Hightown markets. Small apartment. Well kept. 6pin double key lock. Well-liked at MP. Professional. Friendly. Considered hardworking and talented. Has a rep for being good at dealing with difficult writers. Arrives late. Stays late. Takes her work home. Drinks 5-8 coffees a day. Strong ties to Coterie. More info incoming.

Coterie ties extend back years. Potential child recruit.

Currently information broker for Kirkwall faction Respected, feared. Background in smuggling and forgery. Negotiated trade deals with Carta.

Left home later than should have , looked tired but was smiling. Carrying large stack of manuscripts. Was greeted with smiles and waves at office. Two men rose to help her carry her things. Another woman brought her coffee without being asked. Wears slim-framed glasses when working. Nibbled on the end of her quill. Many messengers stop by her desk. Cannot all be publishing related. Some notes are placed directly into her bag. Some belligerent author just showed up. Did not interrupt until author started insulting other staff members. Only took her two minutes to calm him down. Author just left. Not only agreed to changes, but seems to think the changes are his idea. Stayed back late to finish work. Took home three manuscripts. Dead dropped letter exchange under lower left paved outside blooming rose. Added to Coterie watch list. Seems to have a preference for sitting on her windowsill at home to work. Doesn't wear pants at home. Legs for days.

……

(A letter, attached to a well-bound and heavily annotated copy of chapter 5 of Hard in Hightown)

To Ser Tethras,

Since you are, unfortunately, too busy to respond to my last message, I kept to my word and have completed a standard but thorough edit of the latest chapter of Hard in Hightown.

I have used industry standard mark ups, and left my annotations in the margins for your perusal. I have also included a detailed list of suggestion changes that I feel will help streamline the story and reduce unnecessary clutter. Whilst I thoroughly enjoyed your imagery, some of your metaphors boarded on purple prose and I felt best to remove to maintain the tension.

If you have any questions, or you would like to discuss my suggestions further, I would be happy to arrange a personal meet up at the location of your choice.

If all is well, please send your approved changes to the Kirkwall Publishing office byclose of business Friday.

Kind Regards, Y/N Y/L/N Editor at Kirkwall Publishing.

…….

(A note, hastily written and torn roughly from a notebook)

Dear Serah Y/N

You can bet your sweet Starkhaven ass I want to discuss your suggestions. I don't know how you've conned your other authors into dancing your jig, but I'm not about to rework my entire story to suit your whims.

Since you we're so generous as to offer to meet at a location I choose, I'll see you at the Hanged Man this evening. Unless, you've grown accustomed to life up in Hightown?

Yours reluctantly, V. Tethras

……

Mr. Tethras,

Looking forward to meeting you.

Y/N

……

(a note attached to the second draft of chapter 5 of Hard in Hightown)

As requested, here is the edited manuscript; well before Friday you may notice. All agreed upon changes have been made, and grammar corrected. No need to get all antsy over commas again.

V. Tethras.

P.S. where did you learn to play Diamondback like that? ….

Thank you for getting those edits back to me so promptly Tethras. I'm so glad you agree to cut those flashbacks in the middle, they dragged the whole pace to a crawl. The tension is just perfect now!

As for your enquiry about my gambling skills, I shall only state that I am a mystery and an enigma, one you cannot hope to solve. Bow before my beginners luck.

…….

Tone it down, you silver-tongued brat.

V.

……............................................................................................................

Ser Tethras,

I understand that you and your brother are knee deep in preparations for your Deep Roads expedition, but that does NOT excuse you from submitting your latest drafts on time.

If the latest draft of Chapter Eleven is not on my desk by tomorrow morning, I will come down there and drag it from your ink-stained fingers myself.

Sincerely,

Y/N Y/L/N

Editor at Kirkwall Publishing.

……

Why Silver, formal sign-off and everything. You are mad at me.

Would you forgive your favourite dwarf if I said I was assisting a young and devilishly handsome Fereldan refugee to turn his life around? And that, through working with this strapping lad, I am gathering a whole host of new ideas for later chapters, a perhaps… that second serial you’ve been asking for?

Your humble wordsmith,

V. Tethras

…….

Have the damn manuscript to me by next week.

You owe me V.

Silver

P.S. Stay out of trouble.

……

Dearest Silver,

Stay out of trouble? Why, I am an upstanding and law-abiding citizen of this fine city. I wouldn’t dream of creating trouble in our fair Kirkwall.

Hawke on the other hand…

You’ll break us out of prison, right?

……

(a letter attached to a manuscript, delivered within hours of close-of-business the following week.)

Chapter Eleven, as promised Silver.

And if my courier is as fast as she claims, with a good half-a-day to spare.

Now let me have a few solid nights of drinking before you bombard me with your inevitable critiques. After the week I’ve had. I deserve it.

Your favourite Dwarf,

V. Tethras

……

No rest for the wicked V.

…..

Slave driver.

……

You're the one sending (and likely paying) this young boy to run between my office and the Hanged Man to deliver scathing quips.

Are you so desperate to have the final word?

……

Well yes; but you keep responding, don't you?

…….....................................................................................................................

So I noticed you seem a bit fixated on my latest romance scene. There have to be at least twice as many notes on those pages than the rest of the manuscript combined (what do you have against the humble ellipses? Did it kill your father, insult your mother’s honour? Cheat you in cards?).

Something there must have really caught your attention.

……

If by caught my attention, you mean had me scoffing into my coffee, then yes -- there was plenty to work with.

I don’t know who you’re paying at the Blooming Rose, but no one has ever lasted that long, or had a woman orgasming that many times, without the aid of some very potent potions. Anyone who claims otherwise is better at lying than you are.

Try to be a bit more realistic when penning your explicit material.

Your readers aren’t that stupid.

By the way, I have no qualms with the ellipses. But they are not sugar V, don’t sprinkle them about like the scene is an Orlesian sweet.

……

Obviously you’ve never slept with a dwarf...

What we lack in size, we make up for in …  stamina.

Surely you’ve heard the saying... “Just the right height to give a human girl a good time.”

… V

P.S… sweet enough for you Silver?

…............................................................................................................................

                                             Kirkwall Publishing;                 in association with the Noble Literary Society of Kirkwall,

                                extend their cordial invitation to

                                          Ser Varric Tethras

                                                    to our

                                Annual Satinalia Award Ceremony

                               To be held at the De Launcet Estate                                              10th Harvestmere

                                    Dinner will be served at 6 bells                                  Award Ceremony to begin at 8 bells.

                           Please contact Kirkwall Publishing to RSVP.

( scribbled in the bottom corner of the invitation)

Yes you have to come! You won an award for Viper’s Nest

- Silver

……

My Dearest Silver,

I regret to inform you that I will be unable to attend this award shindig, as I will be busy doing literally anything else. As it if Satinalia and the entirety of Kirkwall will be pissed-up and cavorting around in masks, I’m sure no one will miss me.

Be a dear and collect my award for me. I want to send it to the Merchants Guild next time they try and involve Bartrand and me in their latest drivel. And when you finally grow tired of the snooty bastards up in Hightown, come join us at the Hanged Man. Hawke and I are having a little get together.

Yours, without regrets

Varric Tethras

……

Dear V.

Fine, but you better get your clever merchant hands on a bottle of the honey mead I like.

Try not to pass out before I get there.

- Silver

......

( a message, written on the back of a letter from the Merchants Guild and left on the beside of one Varric Tethras )

I stand correct. Dwarven stamina is a thing of beauty.

You still owe me 3 sovereigns.

Silver

……

Where the all of Thedas did you get that dress! That neckline should be illegal.

You can’t possibly have found it in a store, even I wouldn’t believe that kind of coincidence. Did you show a tailor my author portrait? You must have! Which means you had that outfit planned well before I rejected your precious awards night invite.

So you were planning to what, attend that ceremony with me dressed in a pin up version of my usual clothes? I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

This is punishment for all those ellipses isn’t it?

Or were you just trying to catch my attention? I've been called a narcissist before, but never by intelligent company.

Your exceedingly bemused author,

V. Tethras

……

You didn’t seem to mind the dress last night, when I stopped by to deliver your award.

Or did it only cause offence once it landed on the floor of your room?

I didn’t think you noticed, you were very… distracted.

You’ll note my accurate and well placed use of an ellipses.

Your exceedingly well-dressed editor,

Silver

By the way; your pretty elven friend, the one who’s always sneaking into the Hightown gardens. Is she seeing anyone?

……

Hands of Silver. Hawke’s been making doe-eyes at Daisy since he saw her.

Furthermore, asking about my friends the day after you sleep with me! I feel so used.

Your tragically offended friend,

V. Tethras

……

As usual, you force me to repeat myself V.

You didn’t mind being used last night.

Your surprisingly flexible friend,

Silver

……

No fair, now you’ve got me thinking about humans and their long, bendy limbs.

You’d think all that leg of yours would get in the way.

Next time, remind me to hook them over my shoulders. I like the way it makes your back arch.

……

Tempting.

But you still need to send me the redraft of chapter eleven by next fortnight.

- Silver

[fallen029]

Proposition

"So? What is it, doc? A broken bone? Broken spirit? Terminal illness?"

"Well, for one I'm not a doctor," Mirajane said with a bit of a tsk, "but from what I can tell, Bickslow, you at most have a bruise on your arm."

"Well, you're not a doctor, so I'd keep your opinions to yourself."

The woman only made a face as she asked the seith, "Bickslow, why did you make me come up here?"

"Well, not for this piss poor bedside manner of yours."

"I typically piss in a toilet, not beside the bed."

For a long moment, the pair only stared one another straight in the eyes. Then Bickslow dropped his visor once more.

"What if I told you, Mirajane," he began as he sat the cot up in the infirmary, unconcerned with moving it seemed, "that I had something life changing to tell you?"

"I don't understand the question."

"What do you mean you don't understand?"

"You're asking me what would happen if that occurred, but how could I know? When I don't know what the life changing information is?'

Bickslow considered this before saying, "Maybe I just tell you why I asked you to come up here."

"And explain why you let me go through the ruse of giving you a full medical exam."

"You're saying you didn't want to check my heart rate for me, Mira?"

"I'm saying I'm actually on the clock right now and if I leave Kinana alone for too long-"

"Alright, alright, alright," he griped. "I'll tell ya what's up."

"Alright, Mira," his babies sang as they floated about. "Papa will tell you."

"See, I'm a simple man, Mira," the seith began. Tapping at his chest, he said, "I have simple tastes. Simple desires. Simple-"

"Bickslow-"

"I need you to help me propose to your sister."

Mirajane blinked. Then she blinked some more. Finally, she began to jump all about.

"Oh, Bickslow, are you serious? Do you really want to do that?"

"Well, I did before you started this bouncing business."

"I'm so glad that you came to me," Mirajane said with a bright grin. "For- Wait, you didn't come to me to ask for her hand or something creepy like that, did you?"

"If I wanted her hand, Mira, I would just cut it off after spiking her drink."

The bouncing had stopped and so had the excitement, but still, Mira was smiling some as she stared at the seith.

"This is just the best thing ever. Honestly, Bickslow, the best."

"Well, world peace would be nice. The abolishing of the slave trade. Making it to where you don't knock your freaking toe into stuff when you're stumbling around in the dark-"

"The best."

"But you're right, anyways," the man continued on with that serious tone he put on when he was, rarely, feeling the need for it. And a proposal (or at least the beginning stages of it, called for such a thing). "I didn't come to you to ask for her hand."

"I hope not." Then Mira frowned, if only briefly. "And I really hope you don't drug her and cut it off either."

"I asked you all the way up here for your help."

"My help?"

"When I think of Lisanna, I think of one thing," the seith insisted. "Her hotter older sister."

"Wait, what?"

"But only because," Bickslow went on with an air of importance, "you and her are around one another so much. So. Freaking. Much. Even when she and I are alone, she's worried about what you're doing."

"Awe."

"Well, gross, but if you're in awe of gross things, sure." Still, the man shook his head some before saying, "If there's anyone that I could go to for help with this whole proposal shit, it's you. You can help me pick out a ring, huh? And figure out how I can do all this? Without it being a complete disaster? I don't care about much, you know, doing things all proper and shit. But this is different. Very different."

Her smile fell back to her face then as Mirajane nodded her head a bit. "Of course, Bickslow."

"So, first thing's first," he began with his head held high, "Are we gonna get this prostate exam out of the way or what?"

"What?"

"Turn my head and cough, eh?"

But she was too blissed out, Mirajane was, to care about much else. Not even the fact she was pretty sure she was assisting a complete psychopath with proposing to her sister.

As he went back downstairs, she took her time, just breathing and counting and anything to calm her nerves. To focus. She did still have a shift to get back to. Not to mention, she couldn't spill the beans. Nope. She had to keep this a secret. From her sister. Her little sister who was going to be married and happy and oh, Mira would get to plan it all. Every single step.

She, herself, wasn't too keen on the idea of marriage. It felt antiquated and false.

"I like the ability to date and be with whoever I want."

Laxus frowned when she got to this part of her retelling of her day, sitting there beside her in bed. He'd been reading, honestly, as he'd taken to doing before bed, but somehow, her words penetrated his train of thought, derailing him right into her typical delusions.

"We're," he told her with a perplex gaze, "dating. Monogamously. Mirajane."

"Well, yeah, sure, but we're not married."

"No," he agreed slowly, "but-"

"And Laxus, I think you're missing my point."

Completely.

"I'm happy. For Lisanna. So happy. And now I'll get to plan the wedding of my dreams without ever having to sign my life away to some man-"

"Jokes on you." He went back to his book. "Having seen you're life, I'd definitely void the contract."

Still, Mirajane could hardly contain herself with the thoughts of her sister's impending engagement. She couldn't tell anyone else, not even Lucy or Cana, who she was just chomping at the bit to. It helped though that most everyone was out on jobs, anyways. Even Bickslow and Lisanna went out on a job together not soon after the conversation the seith had had with the barmaid and, well, with them both gone, she had to talk to someone. And clearly, Laxus wasn't going to be that someone.

"Can you believe," she gushed to Freed, "that Bickslow is going to ask Lisanna to marry him?"

The rune mage, at the moment, was trying to enjoy the fact that Evergreen was off on a solo job (S-Class would be upon them soon) and Bickslow was out on a job with Lisanna in the only way he knew how; having a nice drink, alone, at the bar, while going over a magic tome. It was a good way to unwind.

Until Mirajane Strauss sat at his side.

Freed choked too, a bit, on his drink, before frowning at the barmaid. "What did you just say?" he asked as he only wiped his mouth with a napkin, "Mira?"

"Did you not know?" She didn't feel any shame in this as, honestly, that was Bickslow's fault. Not telling his best friend first. Who could blame her for assuming, of all people, Freed knew? "Well, he is."

"I highly doubt that."

"He told me himself."

"Surely, you misunderstood."

"I didn't."

He raised an eyebrow then at her, Freed did, before slowly questioning, "You are certain of this?"

"Very."

"And your sister plans to...say yes?"

"Well, I dunno about that. But I hope so." And then Mirajane got down to what she really wanted to talk about. "Can you imagine it? The wedding? The dress? And ooh, I know she'll pick me to be her maid of honor. Who else would she pick? We're very close, you know."

"I am aware."

"My only issue," Mira was going right along then, "is that I'm still going back and forth on the color scheme? I mean, I'm sure there'll be plenty time to consider it, but-"

"I'm sure that Lisanna, regardless of how close the pair of you are, will have some say in the matters, yes, Mira?"

That made her pause then, just to study the other wizard. Then she shrugged some.

"You don't get it, Freed," she said with a wave of her hand. "This will be my only real wedding to plan."

"Won't you marry? One day?"

"I'm not the type to be all tied down, you know."

"Damn it, woman." And Laxus, who was, of course, seated at the table with Freed, as he always was, slammed down his newspaper then as he took one of his headphones out while glaring at his girlfriend. "I am right here."

"Oh, dragon, you know what I mean."

"No," he growled at her angrily, "I don't."

Freed only glanced between the two of them before sighing deeply. "I suppose neither of you wish to end this charade before it gets too far?"

"I mean, I'm just saying that I don't wanna be with Laxus necessarily forever," Mira defended, frowning, "not that our entire relationship is a charade."

"Might," the slayer growled, "as well."

"I actually was speaking on Bickslow and his idea to propose to Lisanna." Still, Freed sighed a bit before saying, "But I suppose if the two of you have something you wish to talk about-"

"We don't," Mira assured him. "To either of those."

It was difficult to argue with the finality in her tone. Even Laxus only grumbled while putting his headphone back in.

Mirajane was so giddy over the entire thing though. Too giddy, Freed felt (and Laxus seethed), considering the players involved in her little game. She'd spent the time Bickslow and Lisanna were away contemplating all the cutesy ways in which the seith could ask her younger sister to marry him and while each outdid the other, she never felt as if she landed on the exactly perfect way.

As it would turn out, it wouldn't matter anyhow, her feelings on the matter. Her thoughts. Her considerations. Not even her ideas on decorations or the cake or the wedding dress or anything.

Not because they came back from the trip with their relationship in shambles or even because she'd had a change of heart about facilitating the further progression of her sister's relationship with a man probably not even fit to care for the wooden dolls he had. No. Their relationship was better than ever and Mirajane was more committed than ever to the proposal and wedding and all the excellent things she foresaw stemming from it.

Rather, when they arrived at the hall one afternoon, Bickslow and Lisanna were in high spirits, practically falling off one another as they happily announced to everyone within hearing distance that, in fact, they'd gotten married while they were out on their job. Eloped, maybe, was the right word.

Mirajane preferred betrayal.

Laxus just wished he wasn't around that day. For a multitude of reasons. For one, because the guild immediately shifted into party mode (he honestly felt as if the place was in a constant state of that , anyways) and he was not down for that. At all. For two though, and probably the most important reason, because he knew that Mirajane was not going to take this well.

He was tripping over his feet some, Laxus was, around all the commotion that Lisanna and Bickslow set off in the hall with their announcement, to get over to the bar. To get to his girlfriend. Before...well, he wasn't sure what he was trying to stop. Murder felt likely.

She was behind the bar, where she'd been before they even came in, just standing there, a mug she'd been polishing in hand, staring with wide eyes as the others all descended on her little sister and Bickslow.

"Mira," Laxus whispered over the excitement as he only stood before her. "Are you…gonna be alright? With all this?"

Absolutely not. In anyway. He knew this. The dark look in her eyes told him this. As if he needed to be told it once more. He knew the woman well at that point and they were minutes away from either a meltdown or a shutdown.

He wasn't sure what would be worse in that situation.

Given the party atmosphere, she was needed to serve drinks… Poor Kinana couldn't do it all alone, after all.

"Oi, Boss, did ya hear?" Bickslow escaped the madness (most of the members were far more interested in his apparent bride, anyhow), just to get over to the bar. "I'm a taken man now. So what you gonna get me? For my weddin' gift? Payin' my rent would be nice, but-"

"Bickslow," the slayer growled with a glare, "right now isn't a good-"

"Why," Mira finally spoke, staring straight at the seith, "would you do this? Bickslow? I thought that you told me-"

"Oi, Mrs. Boss," he remarked. "Or should I be Mrs. Lisanna now? Eh? A title in the works. A work in progress. I'll have a lotta time to figure it out, after all. Forever, I guess."

"You," Mira repeated, "guess."

"It's what I said."

"Mira-" Laxus tried once more, but no. There was no saving them. The demon was going to explode. She was. Honestly, she was.

How could Bickslow do this to her? Get her all excited and amped up and then pull some...some...bullshit like this? Huh? How could he do that?

Mira was just about to give him a piece of her mind too (a huge chunk of it, honestly) and Laxus was considering their safest exit route, when Lisanna was finally able to break free a bit too. It was difficult, but she broke through the congratulatory words and hugs and questions just to make it over to her sister who she beamed at so happily and so excitedly and Mira wanted to be upset. She knew she had the right to be. How could they do that? Go and have some sort of courthouse marriage and not include her at all and who's wedding was she going to plan now? Huh?

"Well," Lisanna started with a bright smile as she stood before the bar, "what do you think? Sis? I'm a married woman now."

It fell then, all of it. Deflated. Mira almost dropped the mug then, even, to the ground, as she rushed right around the bar, eyes filled with tears as she only wrapped her arms around her sister. All the anger was washing away and the shock was becoming something different, seeing her sister then, so happy and expecting her to be the same.

"Yeah," Mira sighed as she held her younger sister closely. "You are."

It was a long, intoxicating night up at the guild and Laxus was glad when he finally found his way home, to his own bed, to sleep off what was no doubt going to become a hangover. He was just drifting off when Mirajane suddenly patted at his chest.

"Evergreen," she whispered to him softly, "is going to have to marry Elfman now. You know. And let me plan it all. Marriage is the perfect solution to all their problems, don't you think?"

Laxus only shut his eyes though. "Yeah, demon. I do."

But not theirs.

Thankfully.

[ikesenhell]

Summoning Circle XVI

This is a continuation of Summoning Circle. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: Tagging @katriniac at her request. 

They shoved back the furniture in the living room and prepared another circle. Sasuke prepped instruments she didn’t even know the names of around the room. Some whirred, some beeped, some made scrawling measurements like a seismograph. He monitored them all ceaselessly for a week before clapping his hands together. 

“Good news. We might not even need a machine.”

“How do you figure that?” She asked, propping herself up between two of them on the couch.

“Well, the problem is from the other side. Ergo, we’d need to get through to the other side to block the holes. And I think--” He paused, contemplating his words. “I think it’s a matter of reverse engineering the doorway you made in the first place to place a barrier.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her brain nigh on meltdown mode. “English please.”

“Remember your sigil you drew to summon them in the first place?” Sasuke flipped the book open, teasing his fingers between the pages. “It’s like an algebra problem.”

“Fuck, Sasuke. The whole reason we’re in this mess is because I’m shit at math.”

He half-smiled, shoving his glasses back up his nose. “Alright. A better analogy. Think of each place in the universe was a door. Naturally, to get in a door, you need a key.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“So, for instance, to ‘assemble’ the key to our having space travel, we had to map out the lock. The components involved velocity, calculating orbits, etcetera, but in the end it was a key nonetheless.” He tapped the pages to the book. “And this book details keys to other doors.”

She paused. “So basically what you’re saying is the circle is the door, we just have to figure out the components to get us in there. Like a password.”

“Exactly like a password.”

“And once we’re in there...” The details laid bare out before her like the mythical yellow brick road. “Then we block the route back?”

“It’ll take a little doing. But that’s the idea. It’s just a matter of assembling the component to create the block. And in the meantime, we’d have the assistance of Mitsuhide and Mitsunari on the other side.”

It wasn’t a perfect idea, but it was an idea, and it was better than any she had to boot. Besides. Sasuke had never, ever let her down before. Suddenly overwhelmed by the grace of him, she leapt to his side and crushed him in a hug. 

“Sasuke, you’re the very best friend in the whole goddamn universe.”

He pet her back gently. “This is as much a fun scientific adventure for me as it is helping you... but you’re welcome.”

Mitsunari stood in the eye of the circling storm. 

A thousand dreams swirled around him. He extended a finger and watched them ripple around him, fragments of unconscious thoughts flowing through his mind. Oh, he was so, so hungry for them, so tempted to delve in and devour them whole for their knowledge. But he was hunting first and foremost. That stayed him. Faster and faster the tide turned around him. He shut his purple eyes and focused to the full stretch of his will, feeling the ravenous desire in him fight for control. 

But not today. 

He felt the dream and latched on, pulling it out of the slipping current and laying it bare before him. There. She dreamed, and his heart screamed and pulled from his chest, threatening mutiny.

She dreamed of them.

There they were--himself and Mitsuhide, standing in her kitchen, fumbling over sandwiches. The contents made no sense, and neither did the fact that all the furniture was floating--but nevermind that. Dream logic had a way of creeping in. He absorbed himself in the details of her. 

He watched her hands reaching for them, the way she always fell just out of reach. The kitchen drifted farther and farther away until it was only a lonely blip, the infinite hallway extending before her. Mitsunari wanted so badly for Dream-Him to reach out, take her, grab her! But no. He could only stand arrested as at last, the whole apartment slipped into blackness, the shattering of a mirror sprinkling through her mind. 

“There you are.”

Mitsunari shut his eyes and tried not to feel angry at Mitsuhide. “Did we do the right thing?”

The silver-haired demon stepped to his side and stared down at the dream. It turned to a horror so easily. Now she dreamed of blood sprinkled over the vanity, fragments of a vampire skull scattered over her feet. 

“Yes,” Mitsuhide murmured, his voice shaking. “We did.”

“It doesn’t feel like the right thing.”

“The right thing often doesn’t.”

Mitsunari sighed. “I suppose coming from you, that means something. You’re the king of doing the right thing in the worst ways.”

The ghost of an amused smile played over Mitsuhide’s lips, but he said nothing. Instead he extended his hand toward his partner. “You can’t stand here in the stream forever.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re starved. You never made the trade I made. You can’t be away from your books this long.”

“I know,” Mitsunari answered miserably. “I know. But I keep coming back here.”

Nothing other than the rush of swirling dreams around them answered. At last, Mitsuhide sighed. “Whatever you’re looking for, I can stand guard for now. She wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “She wouldn’t want a lot of things that have happened.”

“No. You’re right. She wouldn’t have.” 

She took her cat to stay with another friend for a while. After all, whenever they broke through to Purgatory, Theodora couldn’t go without food and water. Kissing her pet a thousand times on the head, she finally resolved herself to the unknown. 

Both she and Sasuke threw themselves into working long hours every week, extending their paychecks as far as they could manage to accommodate an unknown length of time away from their respective bills and responsibilities. Each night, they dragged themselves back to the apartment and slaved over the books late into the night. Sasuke pinned an intricate system of notes onto her wall. One night she pointed out it looked like a meme and he struck the same pose, sending them into a several-minute long fit of giggles. 

And at last--at last!--they had something. 

“Holy shit.” Sasuke announced one midnight. “I think I got it.”

She pried herself from her notes to stare blearily at him. “What?”

“I’ve got it.” And he scrambled for chalk, etching the runes into the floor one at a time. Each of them pulsed and warped in tandem, shimmering a bright red through the apartment until a faint light pooled in the center. Sasuke inhaled deeply. “I haven’t set the last symbol, but when we do...”

“Oh my god.” She slammed the book shut, scrabbling over to him. “Okay. Okay okay. Okay!”

“We need to get supplies.” He nodded resolutely, and suddenly the two of them were scrabbling around the room. “Like a can of beans!”

A moment. She stopped and stared at him. “A... can of beans? Like, a singular can?”

Sasuke, astrophysicist and genius, stopped dead in his tracks, eyes glazed. “I... yes. We probably need more than one.”

“Sleep deprivation getting you there?”

“I’d be absolutely thrilled if we could just chalk it up to that.”

They crashed that night in the living room, and by the next morning, they both sent off emails to their respective employers about an unplanned, long-term absence from work. Shuffling their backpacks together, they checked it for the millionth time.

“A compass won’t be any use there,” Sasuke mumbled. “Do you know how to orient us once we’re in?”

“Not a single fucking clue, if I’m honest. I might be able to get us to the hot springs... if it dumps us out in the correct place.”

“Not likely, then.” But he smiled anyway, cranking one of his ten wind-up cameras he’d somehow procured. “This will be very exciting.”

“And scary. We need to be on our guard.” 

“Of course. But the scientific opportunity here is limitless.”

Count on Sasuke to make it fun. Shaking out her nerves, she nodded at him. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this. Beam me up, Scotty.”

He gave her the usual muted smile and scrawled out the appropriate signs. Just as before, the whole living room began to swim with ruby light. Affixing the last piece, they stepped back as a massive gate appeared before them--and just beyond, a thick, purple haze. 

She exhaled hard and took Sasuke’s hand. “Alright.”

He squeezed it reassuringly. Together, they stepped through, and the gate closed behind them. 

“My friend?”

The demon frowned from his place atop a cushioned chair, but answered anyway. “Yes, Shingen?”

Smirking, the redheaded demon flopped into a matching one across from him, adjusting his red and gold robes. “I don’t suppose you’re in a mood for a patrol?”

Those mismatched eyes flicked open with interest. “Is it a vampire incursion? Perhaps some of those hungering spirits again?”

“No, no no, Kenshin, my friend. Nothing that we need to attack, exactly.”

“Oh.” Kenshin’s face soured immediately. “Then I’m not interested.”

“Come now! It’ll be fascinating.” Shingen chuckled, leaning in. “I heard the most interesting report. We have some interlopers out here.”

“If I can’t kill them, then I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I’m certain you’ll find them of interest.” The demon grinned broad, his horns like an ibex shimmering into view. “Because, my friend, they’re humans.”

[professionally-unprofessional]

may i have some angst for shouto todoroki where his so/crush went missing and was auctioned off as a slave years back and he finally found her only to see the the bad condition physical & mentally she is in. endeavor disapproves him wasting time on her to get her better. maybe a semi happy or happy ending

You absolutely may anon. Thank you very much for requesting! I really appreciate it! I hope this is okay. I never feel secure with any of my oneshots but I feel especially shaky with this one. I just hope it’s enjoyable and that it was what you wanted. I sure tried though. I hope you like it.

Todoroki woke with a start and, for a moment, stared at the Japanese-style room of his parent’s home blankly. He’d sat up rather abruptly and his breathing was uneven as his chest heaved while the panic began to ebb and fade away. His shuddering breaths crystallised in front of him, bringing his attention to the fact that his right side was covered in little shards of frost. He’d even broken out in a cold sweat. Taking another breath to calm himself down, he rose his hands to his face and proceeded to try and steady his breathing. It was a dream. Well, a nightmare to be more specific. It was fine now though. He knew that everything was alright; that it was all okay. Yet he still couldn’t shake the unease in the pit of his stomach that it wasn’t.

That somehow, you’d slipped away.

Again.

As he lay back down and tried to push down the unease, he felt the embers of the past rising to the surface. It was the same as when he’d fought Midoriya back in the first-year sports festival - somehow it was all coming up to the surface with a small push.

No matter how stoic or strong he was on the outside, Todoroki was still only human which meant that late night thoughts were something that happened every so often.

They’d been happening more frequently recently as well.

It was probably thanks to you.

Wow the sports-festival. That had been before he’d even lost you. You’d been an aspiring hero along with everyone else at UA. At some point over the first couple of months, the bi-coloured student had grown to be rather fond of you. You’d offered him a wonderful friendship and had been a loyal and trustworthy companion. Not to mention that slowly, he’d grown to love you as more than as just a friend.

However, with Endeavour the way he was, Todoroki felt torn about if he should express how he felt. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to have to handle the reaction that was sure to come when the pro realised his ‘creation’ had a partner. No, it was because he didn’t want you to have to see or deal with it.

Despite his reservations, you eventually came to understand his family situation and everything that came with it. You helped him through stressful times like the sports festival when Endeavour had shown and when he’d used his left side in the fight against Midoriya. When he hadn’t used it against Bakugou as well.

Then there’d been the strain of the Hosu incident. How Iida had been hurt in the fight against the Hero Killer. In the whirlwind of the chaos of it all… He’d momentarily stopped wondering about you. It was only when everyone got back that he realised you were absent.

At first, there was no news. There was just… nothing. It was as though you’d vanished and no one had even noticed. Well, your classmates noticed and queried your absence, but there were never any answers.

After a long period of looking into it, he finally found what the hero world was trying to cover up. The hero agency you’d been doing your internship at had been tipped off about a group which were heavily involved in the drug trade. What they’d found was far worse. The underground group weren’t just dealing drugs.

They were dealing people too.

The members who were acting as bodyguards for the deals were strong. According to what he’d found, none of the three pros and two interns had been gifted with the types of quirks to fight the villains effectively. A villain of smoke and gasses had supposedly knocked the party out. When the final pro had come to, the site was empty and the villains were gone.

So were the rest of the hero party too.

Efforts to track where any of the individuals went were nearly impossible. It was also becoming known that even people with quirks could be turned into slaves with various illegal substances sold on the black markets - things that could suppress free will or cause a quirk to vanish entirely for periods of time.

Not to mention the possibility of mind-control quirks.

Todoroki sighed and stood. He didn’t want to disturb you, but he couldn’t handle this. Standing, he padded over to the sliding door but hesitated once he was there. It was strange. It was so, so strange. He usually felt so calm and collected, but whenever it was you… this happened. This panic rose up.

As he slid the door opened, it revealed your form. Instead of sleeping on the futon as he’d expected, you were sat on it. He froze up at how you were. You were curled up in a tight ball and seemed to be trembling slightly. You hadn’t heard him yet, or if you had then it hadn’t registered.

“(Name)-san?” He called softly, hoping that he wouldn’t spook you.

As you turned, your eyes were wide with fear and panic and for a moment he almost felt as though the world had opened up and swallowed him. That frantic expression… He recognised it.

You were shaking and your eyes were wide and filled with so many different emotions. You were in a bad state. He knew that.

That didn’t matter. You meant the world to him. Nothing would change that.

So he knelt down beside you. Despite his past, he wasn’t afraid of you. He wouldn’t be. Even though he knew first hand what people who were unstable could do, he knew that you wouldn’t hurt him. No matter what state you were in.

His gaze was steady as he looked to you, but inside he was so unsure. He just needed to know if he was doing the right thing. Was this what you needed?

Slowly, the panic settled down as you came to realise who he was and that he was not going to hurt you. He wasn’t going to give you orders or punish you.

He was your friend. It was perfectly fine to trust him.

As you’d slept you’d forgotten something crucial. As those memories haunted your dreams, torturing your state, you had forgotten that it was over. You were finished with that life. You were here now and you were safe. You were not the same teenager who was thrown into servitude unwillingly. No, you were a young adult now with Todoroki and slowly, you’d reach towards and brighter future.

“Todo-kun…”

“It’s alright. You’re not going back to that place.” He murmured, slowly opening his arms slightly. He might not have been the greatest with people. He knew this - he missed jokes, couldn’t really flirt and was certainly not a social butterfly… but things were different with you.

When it came to you, he noticed things. At that moment, he could sense that you needed something to hold onto, so he offered up a small, inviting smile and allowed you to move forward and engulf him into a hug. Somehow, you did tell him what you needed. It was never in so many words. Maybe it had been in the past, but not now.

It didn’t matter how he knew. All he knew was that you needed a rock - something solid in your life right now to attach yourself to just to hold on for a while as you readjusted back to a regular, free life.

“Thank you…”

Once you had quietened down and gotten back to sleep, Todoroki sat beside the futon for a while. You were okay. Sometimes you got a bit shaky. It was to be expected. The things you had likely been through would likely take time to unravel.

Slowly, he hoped the scars would fade. The mental, emotional scars and the physical ones. He’d stand beside you for as long as you needed him. Some part of him hoped that you’d let him stay even afterwards too. He’d never take advantage of your vulnerability either. Yet if you let him stay once you had overcome the worst of it, he’d be overjoyed.

After a while, he managed to find the strength to get back up and back to bed. He woke before you did and checked on you quietly again. It was so strange. When did he get to be so worried over you? He always cared for his friends and he’d been glad he’d made it to Midoriya and Iida back in Hosu. Yet it was different for you. It wasn’t just caring about your wellbeing. It was something more which he didn’t fully understand.

After you’d vanished, he hadn’t had a crush in those three years. Not once. Somehow he always found his thoughts going back to you. Perhaps it was because you’d given him so much.

Todoroki looked up from the paperwork as his phone began buzzing. It very late. He frowned slightly. Who on earth could be calling at such a time? The entire world was almost asleep and he was off duty.

He decided not to chance leaving just in case it was important for some reason. The young hero cursed himself for thinking of you. Every time he got a call out of the blue he silently hoped it would be someone saying they’d found you.

“Hello?”

“Todo-kun?”

He froze up. No way… There was only one person who called him that. Only one person who had ever called him that. It couldn’t be. You’d been gone for nearly three years.

“(Name)-san?”

He heard a choked sob and he felt his strong exterior begin to crack.

“Where are you?”

“A pay phone. I think it’s south Yokohama.”

South Yokohama? He was almost tempted to wonder how on earth you’d wound up there. Then again, you’d been missing for almost three years now. A lot could happen in that time. He quickly jotted down what you’d said.

Everything was critically important.

He had to get you back. He could not mess up this chance.

“Are you alright, (Name)-san? Are you hurt?”

“N-no…” You took a shuddering breath. “Well, not really. I… Yeah. I’ve got minor injuries and I’m a tad scruffy, but there’s nothing serious. I’m just exhausted.”

He knew he couldn’t reach you right then and there so he’d have to do whatever he could to ensure your safety from where he was. “Are you being pursued?”

Your breath hitched and he hated how it sounded. “I-I don’t think so.” The tremble in your voice was nearly unbearable. He didn’t want to ask it. He didn’t want to cause you more pain but he had to make sure of these things.

“Todo-kun…” You sounded so vulnerable; so scared. “Please help me get home. I didn’t know who else to call.”

You’d trusted him. Above everyone else. Above the hero offices, you could have tried to reach. He knew you wouldn’t have much if anything on you which would make reaching anyone rather difficult. Revealing what your situation was could prove to be dangerous if it was to the wrong person.

“Listen (name)-san. I’m going to have to hang up to get some help for you. Is that okay?”

You paused for a moment, thinking it over before he could sense a small nod. “Alright.”

He thought over what advice to give you. He didn’t know how quickly he’d be able to track down a hero agency there and get you support. “I know you need to be careful, but you need to find a hero on patrol. It’s late so be carefu. Is that alright with you?”

“That’s fine.”

“I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can be. If you find a hero, get them to call me so I know what’s going on.”

Once you’d confirmed, he told you he needed to go to get some help for you and with a small goodbye, you terminated the line. Immediately, he was at the computer, searching for a way to get down to Yokohama as soon as possible. He wasn’t too far from Tokyo so it should only take around an hour on the train. Thank goodness. As he had a look to check for the closest train times, he picked up the phone and called Midoriya. He could only do so many things at once. While he was on his way to Yokohama, he’d need someone to look for the hero offices. On top of that, he needed to find a way to trace the call back to whichever payphone you had called from.

So around three hours later he was racing through the streets with the location of that payphone in his hand and the backing of the heroes of the city keeping an eye out for you. It didn’t take him long at all to get to the southern side of the city. His phone rang again and he pulled it out. He expected it to be Midoriya who had jumped at the chance to potentially help you and was taking care of getting updates to his close friend. It was an unknown number this time though.

“Todo-kun…” That faint whisper caused his heart to freeze. “Thank you.”

The relief almost knocked him over. He could hear some figures talking behind you and recognised one of the voices. It was Tsuyu! She must have been doing some work out here.

“Can you hand me over to the hero that’s with you? They should be able to send me your location.”

“Sure” A few moments later he had an updated location. There weren’t too far form the payphone he was heading towards.

It took another ten minutes for him to get to you, but as he turned around to find you stood in a warm blanket surrounded by the police, he was so glad you were safe. You were right when you’d said you were a tad scruffy… You were filthy. Underneath the blanket, rags poked out. You looked as though you’d gone through hell. Once you saw him, your eyes lit up and as he moved to meet you, he found your arms around him, squeezing slightly.

He paused before gently resting a hand over your head and lowering his own to rest against the crown of your head. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I missed you. I missed you so much.”

It surprised the rising hero. You’d missed him? Had he really meant that much to you? Then again, in your days at UA, he’d always been there for you. Through the attack at the USJ to your own disappointment in the sports festival. You were his pillar. He was yours.

The police exchanged small smiles at the scene. It was rather touching after all. However, they still needed to get whatever information they could from you.

The next few weeks of questioning and getting you back to being strong and healthy were trying and tiring. However, he stood by your side through it all. He was beside you when you gave your recount of your story and he let you gently squeeze his hand whenever you found it rather difficult to speak or face what had happened.

When you’d woken up with wide and broken eyes, haunted by the things you’d seen, he’d sat and let you cry. Heck, he’d even taken some time away from hero work to help you recover. Saving people was important, but he still needed to save you. You were both aware that it would take quite a while yet he always stayed beside you. The physical wounds had healed and most of them hadn’t scared, but the ones which had scared when you didn’t have access to a healer weren’t going to fade away so easily.

His own residence was really too small to have two people, especially when one of them needed some space to recover and heal. Not to mention some space of their own to retreat back into should the need arise. So Todoroki found that he was at a loss for what to do. It was definitely not a good idea to keep you cooped up there. So he thought about the only place which would be comfortable for you and would deal with the consequences himself. His parents home. Fuyumi had suggested it when he’d briefly returned to get a few things.

She was right. It was a much better space. He would handle Endeavour. For you.

He had expected it when his father had sternly told him to stop wasting his time on you and to get back to hero work so that he wouldn’t fall behind the other aspiring pros who were now beginning to rise in popularity and crimes resolved. Soon, they’d get themselves on their hero ranks.

It was an important time.

It still wasn’t as important as saving you. Not to him.

So the argument had gone on and Shoto had indeed protected you from Enji. He didn’t care what his old man said. You were worth far more to him than his father’s opinion was.

Todoroki had hoped that it would stay that way - that it would happen when you weren’t around.

He should’ve known he wasn’t always going to be that lucky. Especially not when it became a heated topic whenever the two met.

You’d been having some breakfast with Fuyumi and Shoto when Endeavour had walked in. Seeing his son messing around at home rather than doing what he should’ve been like rising through the ranks set him off. Again.

It led to another argument. This time you were there.

The things he said were so hurtful. He called you a waste of time and a burden. He hit home on the insecurities his son knew you were holding. It had taken everything you’d had to sit there and take it with a brave face and everything Shoto had not to start a fully-fledged fight with his own senior.

Eventually, he softly pulled you up and with a glare that could’ve frozen the room solid, he led you out. The damage had been dealt though and it caused your mental recovery to slide back. He was furious. Enough was enough.

The next encounter he’d had with Endeavour had been just as intense, but unlike before he refused to get lost in the heat of the moment. He wasn’t going to strongly defend you a with a fire in him which only ever flared up whenever someone threatened you. This time, he was icily calm. In some ways, he knew that it had stumped his father.

He was so heated when it came to you, but today was different. Today he had thought it out and was ready to do battle. If his father was going to play mind-games with you like that then there as no way he could sit by and do nothing.

So when Enji finally froze and gave his son the room to speak, Todoroki’s voice was flat and cold. “Stay away from (Name). We’re here because without you, it’s ideal for her recovery. If we leave to get away from you, then the last remaining shreds of your influence on me vanish.” And with that, he stalked past his father to return to you with the rice-balls he’d gotten from his sister.

It was the only thing he had left to hold over his father. He still needed to use the old man’s home which meant he couldn’t blatantly fight him. It didn’t matter. He’d use whatever card necessary to keep you safe. Even though his father had no influence as far as he was concerned.

So when he passed his father that morning to grab you something to drink when you woke up, the two exchanged glares but no words were spoken. It was a grudging silence and soon the bi-coloured hero was sure he’d be able to move on with his life again. This time you’d be there. Until then, he could endure anything. 

He could endure watching his friends slip ahead of him in the world of heroes and he could endure having to face his father whenever he was home. For now. Just until you were better.

Because you mattered the most and from how you’d held onto him the night he’d finally found you again… He knew that he mattered just as much to you.

[racefortheironthrone]

How I Would Fix the SW Prequels

So I’ve been listening to School of Movies’ We Need to Talk About Anakin episode, and it reminded me that, while I’ve discussed this with friends and acquaintances in DMs, I’ve never actually written out this idea I had a while back for how you could fix the Star Wars Prequels.

Because in the wake of all the sturm und drang over TLJ, I feel like it’s worth noting that the failures of the Prequels were largely ones of execution rather than intent or conception and I think a very few changes could have made it a worthy addition to the larger universe.

Change #1: Make Anakin Older

No offense at all to Jake Lloyd, because why torture someone their entire life because they weren’t good at acting when they were nine years old (almost no one is any good at that age), but I think one of the major problems with the series was that Anakin starts out too young, which causes all kinds of character and world-building problems in all three movies. Instead of being 8-9 years old, Anakin should show up in Episode I as a teenager. 

This one change does a lot:

To start out with, it creates a better thematic parallel with the original trilogy (and now the new trilogy too) - we meet Anakin when he’s around the same age as Luke Skywalker in A New Hope, and around the same age as Rey in The Force Awakens. They’re all teenagers who dream of the stars but are held in place until something arrives to change their world forever.

Next, it gives the audience a way into how the character is similar to and different from our other protagonists: like Luke, Anakin is a teenager scraping out a life on a backwater desert planet, and because he’s a teenager, and like Luke all Anakin cares about is space street racing (because American Graffiti). But whereas Luke is a good if slightly whiny kid with a decent home life, Anakin is a bit of a wild kid. He hates being a slave, hates that his master makes money off his talents but won’t ever let him win his freedom, throws fists when people say he’s a cheat, etc. You can already get the sense that he’s got a bit of the Dark Side in him already - this will help later on in the Trilogy, as I’ll explain in due course.

After that, it makes his other relationships make more sense: instead of the creepy age gap which means that we start with Amidala as a teenager caring for a child which makes their relationship in Episode II harder to accept, the two meet as peers in a shared period of struggle, which promotes an instant bond and explains why both of them would be interested in rekindling the relationship a short few years later. Likewise, instead of Obi-Wan pretty much raising Anakin, they’ve got more of an older/younger brother dynamic which helps to explain why Obi-Wan would decide to and struggle with mentoring someone not that much younger than himself. 

Finally, it makes the Jedi Order no longer insane or evil. If an eight or nine-year old is too old to be trained, than the Jedi are basically stealing babies and raising them to be ascetic warrior-monks with no experience of the world. However, if Jedi are supposed to be trained from late childhood, so that they have control over their powers when the intense emotions of adolescence hit so as to not fall to the Dark Side or hurt people around them inadvertently, that seems like a sensible precaution. 

Change #2: Bring the Sith in Earlier

I strongly believe that having the fall of the Republic political narrative be a central part of the Prequels was a good idea, since part of what you need to explain is why the Republic fell and the Empire took over. The execution, however, was less good. And part of that is that there’s a pretty hard swerve from local conflicts over tariffs and blockades and trade federations to the rise of the Emperor, so the initial reason for the Jedi to get involved in Naboo never makes much sense and the stakes of the conflict with the droid armies is too low to carry us through the trilogy. 

So instead of going to Naboo to negotiate over trade, have Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan investigate whether the Sith are behind the rising Separatist movement. I would jettison the whole Rule of Two thing, because it doesn’t make sense that an entire Jedi Order of thousands of Jedi would think two Force-users are a galaxy-wide threat, and replace it with the idea that the Sith operate in independent cells of a master and two pupils (because Rule of Three) who go on to found their own cells, in a combination of pyramid scheme and underground organization, this hidden, omnipresent threat operating everywhere and nowhere at once.

This does a couple things:

it better explains why the Jedi are so concerned with the Sith, and provides a longer-term explanation for the downfall of the Republic: rather than promoting the health of the Republic, the Jedi became obsessed with hunting down signs of Sith activity, which made different groups in the galaxy see their supposed defenders as violent religious fanatics, and allowed more subtle Sith like Palpatine to corrupt the Republic from the shadows. (And rising fear and hatred strengthens the Dark Side of the Force...)

It gives a clear through-line from the trade conflict at Naboo to the Separatist/Clone War to the fall of the Republic: in each movie, the Jedi are looking to see whether the SIth are secretly behind some threat to the Republic. In Episode 1, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan encounter Darth Maul, who seems to prove that the Sith were involved, but they don’t find out who his master was; in Episode 2, Obi-Wan and Anakin are fighting the separatist movement, which Count Dooku’s involvement “proves” to be Sith-inspired, and the Clone War kicks off with Sith groups popping up all over the galaxy; in Episode 3, the Republic falls to a military coup that could only succeed because of the military build-up. 

It provides better context for Anakin’s fraught relationship with the Jedi Order: Qui-Gon is convinced that the self-taught Anakin is the Chosen One because the threat of the Sith makes the prophecy that much more important, the Jedi Order don’t trust Anakin because they’re afraid that he’s a Sith infiltrator, and it gives a better reason for Anakin to turn against the Jedi if he comes to see them as paranoid and oppressive.

And this also fits in with what a big part of Anakin’s arc should be about, without everything having to be about his romance with Amidala. If Anakin was already a teenage prodigy when the Jedi found him, he’s already started using the Force (although he doesn’t intiially know what he’s doing) and using his emotions to give him strength, and Anakin should be especially good at the very physical stuff that the Dark Side is strong in: using the Force to speed up his reaction time, shoving boulders out of the way during Pod Races, etc. 

And so when Anakin becomes a Jedi in his own right, he should start making the argument that “balance” means using both the Light and the Dark Sides of the Force (which is also a nice thematic parallel to both Luke and Rey). This should gain him some acolytes, especially during the Clone War when fighting Sith makes some Jedi fight fire with fire, which helps explain how Darth Vader is later able to hunt down almost the entire order, but it also gives the Jedi a reason to fear him and even Obi-Wan a reason to doubt him, and a central tension: will Anakin maintain his precarious balance or fall? (It also sets up a nice parallel once again: Anakin chooses the dark over the light, Luke the light over the dark, Rey is the synthesis.) It’s a hell of a lot better than him being a fledgling fascist or fridging his mother to give him a reason to go bad. 

Change #3: Give Amidala More To Do

Speaking of the political plot, one of the things that would give the political plot more meaning for the viewer is to give a lot more of it to Amidala and have her be more active in it. While Amidala gets to do some stuff - in Episode 1 she calls for a vote of no confidence in the previous Chancellor, bringing Palpatine to power, and works out an alliance with the Gungans; in Episode 2 she’s attacked and doesn’t actually get to act against the rising militarization of the Republic, although she does get to fight on Geonosis (which is a bit of a thematic contradiction), and then everything else is the romance; and then in Episode 3, she’s not allowed to do much. 

Rather than this mish-mash, I’d have Amidala’s main arc in the Prequels be the foundation of the Rebel Alliance: have her be actively whipping votes against the creation of a standing army and the granting of emergency powers in Episode 2 (good time to bring in Bail Organa and Mon Mothma earlier and have them do more) and doing more to uncover the behind-the-scenes machinations that are driving the conflict; have her try to uncover Palpatine’s crimes and bring him to justice in Episode 3, only to be too late, and decide instead to create the Rebel Alliance, etc. 

This also gives a better explanation for why the romance between her and Anakin falls apart without the need for Tuskan ethnic cleansing or wanton child murder: as Anakin gradually falls to the Dark Side through a combination of “ends justify the means” and fear/resentment for the Jedi, Amidala moves in the opposite direction as she fights against this same mentality in the increasingly militarized Republic and begins to see Palpatine as the true threat. 

[terrahistorian]

TELL ME ABOUT JAX'S BACKSTORY :D

Okay, so, this might get a bit long. Jax is one of the most funcharacters I’ve played in D&D in years, and his story has takena lot of turns I didn’t expect, as the best ones always do. Thefinal draft of his backstory was born from several conversationsafter the game began, ways of integrating his story into what we weredoing, and giving him a personal stake, without redefining him.

JX-195 is a 6 year old Construct that killed his creator.

His first memory was of looking out from a pane of glass, floatingin this strange, viscous fluid. After many tests were done on him toconfirm he’d survive his, “Birth,” he was taken out of thechamber, and given his designation, JX-195. The Archmage who createdhim was never given a name, simply being referred to as, “MyCreator.” JX-195 was but the latest in a string of experiments,constructs made using different parts, different methods, differentarcane tricks, all in the hopes of reaching, in a sense, godhood.Creating life from nothing. In order to blend the organic andinorganic parts in JX-195′s creation, the Archmage developed avariation of the Mending spell, transcribed as runic tattoos alongall of his joints. This kept his flesh from rejecting the densermaterials comprising most of his skeleton, but had an unforeseenconsequence; every wound JX-195 received scarred rapidly. Overtime,he’d be more wound than flesh.

JX-195 was a failure. Through teaching him how to read, write, anddispatch of some of his lesser, “Siblings,” his creatorlearned that while JX-195 was an impressive machine, he had noemotions to speak of. No drives, no sorrows, no joys, he simply didas he was told. The archmage saw JX-195 as a blemish on his work,something to be wiped away quickly and thoroughly. JX-195 disagreed.So he took a surgical knife, and stabbed his creator in the backuntil he stopped twitching.

Taking the clothes on his back, the coins he’d been told hadvalue, and his creator’s hidden research notes on his construction,JX-195 set out to see what was out there in this grand world that hadbeen kept from him. He soon learned, however, that his creator wasnot the only foul being out there. In fact, he was nothing if not thenorm.

Beaten, bloodied, his coin stolen, barely holding ontothe, “Meaningless gibberish,” that were the tomes of hisbirth, JX-195 was found by a seemingly generous man. He offered warmmeals, a roof overhead, and work that involved travel and delightsbeyond imagining. He was a slaver, and appealed to JX-195′s baseneeds. Which, technically, were met, and JX-195 understood his placein the world. While there, he was branded across his right eye, andmarked as property of The Matron.

One night, bandits came. Freedom fighters, slaughtering themasters and freeing their slaves. Their leader, Cre’en, an old,jaded, cynical man, who was in it more for revenge than freedom, sawthat JX-195 had nowhere to go, and asked if he wanted to join him fora bit. Thus, JX-195 joined forces with The Wanderer, who gave him hisfirst proper name. Jax. Jax traveled with Cre’en for a year,far longer than most who stayed with him, and was taught how toprotect himself, and how to live among, “Normal, not crazy,slavin’, ass people.” Then, one night, Jax had his first dream.

A crossroads, his first real choice. Down one path, ease, andsolitude, a measure of peace, but ultimately a death and destructionthat shatters the heavens. Down the other, strife, battle, sorrow,but ultimately survival and peace. Along the second path strode threesilhouettes, under the marker of a town not too far from where Cre’enhad made camp. But above both paths, two warriors in gleaming sets ofarmor, beautiful, beguiling, and deadly, to any in their path. And onone warrior, Jax recognized a silken cloak, that had played a part inhis creation.

That night, Jax packed what supplies Cre’en had given him, andleft without a word. Making the short journey to the town in hisdream, it wasn’t long before Jax was found by those threesilhouettes. Mordai, the Tiefling, and defacto leader of this motleycrew. Sparky, the Ifrit, who was literally only there because agolden pineapple he stole told him to. (It was actually Mordaithrowing his voice to make it seem like the pineapple was talking. Atleast, at first) And finally Eren, an Elven cleric who always seemedjust a bit miffed that her god had forced her to work with the othertwo. They had also received dreams from various gods to find eachother, and hunt these two sets of armor. We later learned that theywere called the Greyguard and Paladin sets, eons old artifacts ofHoly Grail level of power and obscurity. Jax lead the way to thefirst piece of armor they’d collected, the cloak he’d recognizedin his dream, and bought his way into the group.

Some time later, the party found another piece, a brass bottlewith a cork topper, in a clearing without any hint of wildlife. Withthe usual stupid bravado of adventurers, we opened it, and a plume ofpurple smoke erupted from the bottle. Rising up out of it, a form farbeyond the size of the bottle itself, a creature of flame, smoke, andmagma rose up to it full height; an Efreeti stood before us, a FireDjinn.

Now, it’s important to note that my DM likes to leave as much tochance as physically possible. She plans a lot, but it’s largelybased on rolls, so twists are as much as a surprise to her as theyare to us. This bottle was no exception. As soon as the bottleopened, she rolled a percentile die. There was a 10% chance that theEfreeti would come out enraged, most likely killing us all. An 80%chance that it would do our bidding for an hour, then disappear. Andfinally, a measly 10% chance that it would arrive magnanimous,offering us three Wishes.

Her dice either hate her, love us, or some sick mixture of thetwo, because the Efreeti bellowed out in Ignan, “What are yourwishes?”

Two game breaking wishes later, that our DM is still pissed offabout, our party was trying to figure out what to do with the finalone. I mean, it’s a Wish, they can’t just be wasted on limitlesscoin and a fast travel system (Oh wait, we already did those). So, mylittle soulless self piped up, “Humanity. I want humanity.”

After some convincing, Mordai, the one who opened the bottle andhad to word the wish, started rattling off a list of, “I wishfor a soul that is kind, just, loyal, brave, trustw-”

The Efreeti cut him off by simply saying, “You cannot havea soul that is all good,” before a glowing orb of color appeared inhis hand, he rammed it into my chest, and disappeared as Jax fellunconscious onto the grass.

That day, Jax had his second dream. He was in a dark void, litonly by the six figures in front of him. They were all differentsouls the Efreeti owned, either by trade or force, and one was to beJax’s. They were of different races, genders, heights. Drow,Dwarves, Humans, and on the very end, a 6 foot tall Dire Pigeon. Ithink that’s the one my DM was hoping I’d get. One roll later, Igot the soul of Yeska Kreskoff, a human cleric, and inadvertentlyestablished Russia as some part of this fantasy world.

This started an arc where Jax struggled to understand threethings. First, his newfound feeling, both emotional and tactile.Second, the lingering consciousness of a tortured and insane Yeska,who began trying to take over Jax’s body to reclaim his life.Eventually, Jax had to beat down and kill Yeska’s consciousness,during a particularly vivid dream. This freed both Yeska and Jax, asJax claimed his soul as his own, and Yeska finally found peace withRoe. And finally third, Jax worked to understand the connection henow found with Yeska’s god, Roe. It turns out that Roe was the onethat sent Jax his first dream, which pointed him down the path offreeing one of his acolytes, and eventually stopping whatevercataclysm is connected to these armors.

So, Jax multiclassed from Fighter into Cleric, as a way to bothatone and thank Yeska and Roe for their sacrifices in freeing Jax.And that choice has been a lot of fun, and I’m really proud thatwas able to give my GM pause with one of the questions I posed Roeduring a communion with him. It had been a few months, and I simplyasked, “Are you pleased with how I’ve grown with this soul?”

It took her a few minutes to answer, but it’s stuck with me eversince. “It’s... Not about me. Am I happy? Yes, absolutely.But all of this is for you, and your growth, and your learning. Whatmatters here, and what I hope you remember, is that you’re not mypawn. You’re not a toy for me to tire of and set aside. I thinkthere are good things we can do together, and ways I can help you,but it has always been, and will remain, about you and your newfoundhappiness. So, if I may ask you a question. Are you happy?”

I ended that communion with a quiet, “Yes.”

Sadly, that was the last truly happy memory Jax has. Since then, him and his party have been collecting more and more of the Armor, and now they have completed both sets. Utilizing their power, the sets have been split among the party, and just recently we’ve let individuals wear a full set. Jax, specifically, has been wearing the Greyguard set. The Alignmentally Evil set. Each set has a consciousness connected to it, and a desire to be used for their own purposes, and the Greyguard has been patient with Jax. The longer he’s worn it, the less he sleeps, the more he depends on the armor, and the more open he is to death. At one point, Jax even contacted the Greyguard’s steed, an Ancient Black Dragon named Dryn, and struck a deal with him. Knowledge for power. I told Dryn all of our plans, everything we had done, and in return he allowed Jax to cast Power Word Kill once a day so long as he wears the full set of Greyguard armor, whose continued use is fraying what stability Jax has left.

Jax has never known peace. His six years have been nothing but imprisonment, battle, slavery, harsh travels, and feeling as though he’s a hacky sack for the gods. But I doubt that’s how his story will end. I suspect something with books, maybe a library. He hasn’t found his happy ending, but his story isn’t done yet. And I think that’s all any of us can say.

[inkognito97]

Naboo happens when Obi-wan is 13/14 and on probation after Melida-Daan. Does Qui-gon renounce him for Anakin and what happens with Maul?

Silent tears were running down Obi-Wan’s cheeks. The young Padawan, if he could even call himself that, was hiding away in one of the mostly abandoned meditation gardens. Abandoned, because it was rarely visited, much less used, causing the plants to grow wildly and nature to reclaim at least a little bit of space on the city planet. 

Obi-Wan liked it here. Here, it was silent and here nobody would look for him. he was completely alone, undisturbed and away from everything else. He came here relatively often, much more frequent the last few weeks, while he had been on probation. Qui-Gon did not know about his hiding spot and changes were high that the man was not looking for him either way.

Fresh tears escaped his eyes, leaving stains on freckled cheeks. His Master, but Qui-Gon was not his Master anymore, not until probation was over, was also the main problem and reason why Obi-Wan had fled into his garden in the first place. He had come in hope that the wild growing roses with the painful thorns would calm him down with their familiarity. he had hoped that the sweet smell of countless different flowers that were growing without any form of order, would soothe his nerves and mind. He had hoped to be able to meditate like a proper Jedi here, where the Living Force was strong enough for even him. But all his hopes, had been in vain. Obi-Wan found himself unable to calm down, he found himself unable to meditate. It was just another drop in a barrel that was already overflowing. He was no Jedi, he could finally see that. Were he one, then he would not have abandoned his Master on Melida/Daan. Were he a real Jedi, then the Council would have welcomed him with open arms and not put him under probation. Were he someone worthy of becoming a Knight or even a Master someday, he would not have been pushed aside by Master after Master in the first place… he would not have been pushed away by Qui-Gon.

It was not like he blamed the tall male with the long chestnut brown hair that was starting to turn grey in a few places. No, he could completely understand him. He had betrayed Qui-Gon, he had broken his words and he had shown the older male that he was unworthy of the title of Padawan. It was no wonder that no one had wanted him. Perhaps Master Yoda had been wrong all along, perhaps he truly would have find happiness in the Agricorps.

The ginger haired teenager could not help the sob that escaped his throat, nor could he stop the shivering of his shoulders. Instead he buried his face in his hands, hoping to muffle the sound in order to NOT disturb his environment.

Why was this happening to him? Wasn’t it bad enough already that his own Master did not want him? Apparently not, because his Master had left for a mission to negotiate with the Trade Federation concerning a blockade over Naboo, only to return with a nine year old blond boy that he thought important enough to be trained, despite the age. Obi-Wan did not understand what was so special about the boy, but he had not dared to ask, fearing that the older male would misunderstand his curiosity for disdain or even worse, jealously. He was not jealous of this Anakin Skywalker. Should Qui-on truly take him as a Padawan learner like it appeared to be, the Council would not allow him to be trained otherwise, then he would congratulate the boy, even though it would mean that he himself had reached the end of his Jedi career. He would not become a Jedi Knight without Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan knew that, but there was nothing he could do against it. 

A heavy hand that firmly landed on his head startled Obi-Wan enough, to jump in surprise and turn around at whoever was there. Needless to say, he had not expected to find himself looking in a familiar bearded face, but what really startled him, where the worried midnight blue eyes. The fact that Qui-Gon actually cared and was worried, caused a warm feeling to stir deep inside of him, even though he was most likely seen as just another pathetic lifeform.

“M…Master,” Obi-Wan was proud that his voice did not tremble too much and even prouder of himself that he was able to muster a respective bow.

“Obi-Wan,” there was something in the deep voice, but the ginger haired teenager could not quite name it. For a moment, it looked as if the Jedi Master wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head and lowered himself to his knees. “Do you come here often?” the man asked instead, looking at the chaotic plant life around him.

“Only… only when I am troubled… Master Jinn.”

Qui-Gon frowned at the formal reply, but did not comment on it. Instead his eyes fixed on the tear stained face of Obi-Wan, who was looking at the ground at his feet in a defeated way. For a moment, there was silence between the two Jedi, neither male knowing what to say to break the uncomfortable and heavy silence in the air.

“It is… different here. Nature has been allowed to find its own path in this meditation room… I can feel that it has not been used much in the last few decades or so.”

“No Master,” Obi-Wan agreed.

A sigh escaped Qui-Gon, no need to jump around the topic that was bothering both of them for any longer. “I just came from a Council meeting… it was about Anakin Skywalker and his future with the Jedi Order.”

Obi-Wan barely stopped his hands from clenching to fists. He could not look into his companion’s face, knowing he would lose the little control he still had over himself. He knew what Qui-Gon would say now, he knew that his time with the Jedi was over. 

“Oh,” he pretended to be genuinely interested. “And what was the result.”

“The Council thinks Anakin is too old to be trained,” that was nothing knew to Obi-Wan, “I on the other hand think that he NEEDS to be trained.”

The ginger haired teenager’s heart broke. “I see.”

“Which is why I decided, NOT to train him.”

“Master?” he finally looked up, grey-blue eyes confused. “I don’t… II don’t think I understand,” he mumbled.

Something in the older male’s face softened. “I already have a Padawan Obi-Wan,” he hesitated. “I won’t lie to you, I HAVE considered taking on Anakin as my own Padawan, but I came to realize that this is not the will of the Force. I was supposed to find him and to bring him to Coruscant, I am not to be part of this part of his life however… I a meant to be your teacher.”

“I don’t…” he broke off, not knowing what to reply to that.

“I meditated long on this matter and the Force showed me that… it showed me what a blind fool I have been. i should have realized a lot sooner that my coldness towards you, was hurting you. I should have seen that it was your passionate heart and the foolishness of a young boy that lead you to stay on Melida/Daan. I should have known that you did not mean to hurt me…”

He looked deep into grey-blue eyes, that were slowly turning into their usual blue-green color, despite the fat teardrops rolling out of them.

“The Force made me see that your actions were just a reckless and passionate decision, made by a pure heart that just wanted to help. And in truth… hadn’t it been for Tahl… I would have made the same decision. this is probably the worst of it all, knowing that you have become like me.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked unsure, when he saw the sad and defeated look in the older man’s downcast eyes.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon breathed out. There was… hope in his voice, underlined by a questioning tone. “Obi-Wan, you know me by now… I don’t care what the Council decides… Do you want to become my Padawan again? Will you let us us start anew, fresh, without Xanatos’ shadow looming over us?”

For a moment, nothing happened, then, Obi-Wan dashed forward, completely taking the bearded male off guard. “Yes,” he breathed out, hiding his face in his Master’s neck. He could not believe this was happening. This had to be a wonderful dream, from which he would awake any second now and he would find himself on a transport instead, leaving Coruscant to grow plants. But the steady pulsing of a reopened bond at the back of his head, banished those doubts aside as soon as they had appeared. 

“I.. I won’t promise that my former Padawan’s memory won’t taint me and my decisions in the future… I am just asking you to be patient with me. I need to heal, in fact, we BOTH need to heal from this. And weren’t it for my current mission on Naboo, I would request an immediate leave, for just the two of us…” he trailed off.

“A Padawan’s place is at his Master’s side,2 Obi-Wan sniffed and mumbled more to himself than the man’s sake, who was gently holding and rocking him. “Can I come with you?”

“Yes Padawan,” he could not decline his boy’s wish, not when he sounded so desperate and hopeful. Even the bad feeling that arose in his chest, could not stop him from agreeing. “I would be honored if you were to join me.” He tightened his arms over the trembling body.

After a while, Obi-Wan pulled back. Automatically, Qui-Gon reached up and wiped over the teenager’s cheeks with the sleeves of his robe, not caring if they got ruined and stained.

“What will become of Anakin though?”

It warmed Qui-Gon that his Padawan was caring about someone else this much, especially since his student had obviously believed that he had been replaced by Anakin. 

“I am not sure Obi-Wan. i can feel that the Force has planed something for him and I can feel that I am to be involved at some point in the future, but I don’t know what is going to happen to him. I am rather sure however, that he will be trained, I don’t know who though.”

Obi-Wan sniffed and nodded slowly, before laying his head against the older Jedi’s chest. he was exhausted, both emotionally, as well as physically. “I am glad then… nobody deserves the life of a slave.”

“indeed Padawan,” he pulled the ginger haired brat into his arms and slowly stood up, with Obi-Wan secured against him. He would not let his bright star go anytime soon. the Force had shown him what would happen if he did and he could and WOULD not let that happen, never…