#△ one who walks with lore – ic △

[buzzyb33]

Podcasts

Prompt: a collection of clips from a podcast with Y/n and James- literally just them being a cute couple

Warnings: swearing, established relationship, both Y/n and James are content creators, short,

(I have so many requests and stuff but this just came to mind after seeing Ethan and faiths new podcast so.. I’ll get to them soon I swear)

One occurrence was the newest podcast, the two have videos every Thursday and read stupid Twitter threads and Reddit posts.

“So, James.” I say as I adjust my position.

“Yeah? Go on.” He smiles and I clear my throat, exaggerated.

“Would you rather kiss me for 100,000 grand or kiss the prettiest girl in the world for a million?” I cross my legs as I put my phone down from reading.

“Well- what? I kiss you everyday. So I- can just do it.. but for money? So obviously you.” He says, adjusting his glasses.

“That’s the wrong fucking answer, James.” I shake my head.

“What? Why? We don’t need a million- I suppose it’d be nice.” He speaks and watches me carefully as my jaw ticks.

“No! I’m the prettiest girl in the world! You’re meant to say: ‘oh y/n, I could kiss you and get the million,’ because I’m meant to be the prettiest girl in the world!”

I scoff and slam my hand as he starts laughing.

“Yeah-! That’s- what I meant! Oh fuck off that was a trick question. Yeah, I’d kiss you and get the million.” He pleads his case with amusement.

“Who’s the prettiest girl in the world?” I ask.

“You!”

I shake my head. “Not what you said before..”

Another time was a bit random, but it sits a nice place in Y/ns heart.

“You know, Y/n is getting her room re done. She claims she isn’t a loser but the amount of five nights at Freddy’s and Pokémon stuff is organised on her shelf I thought I was going to have a seizure from all the colours.” James says, flexing his fingers.

I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to speak but the frowning.

“I’m sorry- you’re a content creator and don’t know the five nights at Freddy’s lore? And I bet you could name like two fucking Pokémon.” I scoff, sipping my coffee.

He looks at me and laughs.

“You get so defensive! And I can name many Pokémon, you’re just borderline obsessed.”

He states and I scoff again.

“Sorry, James, how many fucking guitars do you own?” I retort and he rolls his eyes.

“I get payed for that, very different.” He replies and I scoff.

“Guys James is just mad he acts tureen years older than he is.” I snicker and he smiles.

“Okay, haha.”

Though, James’ favourite clip of the two is when they had Willne as a guest, him sat on the middle.

“So, how long do these normally go on for?” He asks as he shifts in his seat.

“About an hour.. maybe longer so..” James pulls his phone out, checking the time.

“Around an hour or something left.” He says and I nod, finding some threads to read out.

“What’s your home screen?” Will asks as James checks the time.

His face turns a little pink, only visible by the tips of his ears and nose.

“It’s me and Y/n in Australia.” He shows will and he can’t help but smile.

The photo consists of Y/n eating a cone of ice cream, one hand in James’ as they walk ahead of whoever took the photo, the sun is just setting and she has his rainbow scarf draped over her shoulders.

At that, i look up.

“What? The one Jago took?” I ask as I peer over and James nods.

“Awe..” I smile and he looks away.

“What’s yours then lass?” Will asks and i smile as I lock my phone to show him and the camera.

The photo is of my lips smooshed against James’ cheek and his hand in my forehead, attempting to push it away, I was sleep deprived when I did that and Jono found it hilarious at James’ trying-not-to-smile expression and snapped the photo.

Will fake gags and then chuckles.

The finally, the end of 2023 podcast was a fan favourite.

“What was your Spotify wrapped?” He asks, pulling his own phone out.

“I thought I’d ask on the podcast.” He adds with a smile.

I smile at his Tory accent and check.

“I haven’t looked yet..” I say as I tap through it.

“Hm. My number one song was heartbeat by childish Gambino, number two static by Steve lacy, number three was so long by you, number four was crying lighting and five was 505 by arctic monkeys.” I say with a soft smile.

“You have me?” He asks with a skeptical tone.

I scoff and shove my phone near him as he smirks.

“Alright alright.. artists?” He asks and I see.

“Arctic monkeys, you, Kanye west, childish gambino and TV girl.” I smile as I hand him my phone.

“I don’t think me and Kanye should ever be next to each other. In any list.” He says with a stupidly serious time and I let out a giggle.

“Shut up. What was your favourite edit of the year?” I ask and he shrugs.

“Edit? I don’t know..” he clearly thinks.

“Mine is the josh Hutcherson one.” I smile jd he rolls his eyes.

“Could at least lie and say it’s one of me.” He scoffs and I laugh.

“I did like the one where it was taking what’s not yours and it was a ship edit of us. That was sweet.” I smile and he nods.

“I saw that.. stop being al soft. Now I look like a prick.” I smile teasingly and he scoffs again.

A/n

Guys I’m so burnt out I know I have loads of requests but don’t let that stop you from keeping the coming cus I will be writing my favs first.

Also maybe I just wanted to yap about my interests and put them into the reader. Oh well.

Requests are open!

Masterlist!

[youcalledmebabe]

my favorite bits of web lore from parachute infantry:

he was a new deal democrat and voted for the first time during the war. “I had to walk almost 2 miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked 10, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest president we had ever had, and the only one who ever gave the working man a break.”

he describes Doc Roe as having “a warm, brave heart.” has anybody ever considered webroe…? there’s about as much basis for it as webgott, historically speaking 💀

he seemed to have lone wolf tendencies. “Actually, I was quite happy to be on my own. Looking out for myself was something I always liked to do. It was the one thing I could do better than anybody else.” 

he was sooo dramatic. “I should have known better than to dream, for whatever dreams I might have had all ended when I was sixteen, and had run away to Gloucester to ship out on a fishing schooner. The schooners were diesel hulks, so I went back to school. That was the way my dreams always ended. The army was no different.”

noted fan of springtime. “It’s going to be an early spring, I thought, feeling a great relief. Maybe things will be better now; they are always better in the spring.”

believed in/was spooked by the stories of a ghost horse cart following them around the front. “It must be the ghost that’s followed us through Europe, I thought with a shiver, for the sound did not seem wholly real—who would have the nerve to walk a horse drawn wagon along the front in a city under such heavy artillery fire? …Some of the men used to speculate about it. They thought that it was the ghost of a supply cart that had gotten a direct hit, and that the driver was homesick for his old outfit. So every night he’d come back and visit his buddies on the line.” apparently Nixon also believed this… where my ghost story fics at?

allergic to change: “The essence of life is change, not stability, but I can’t get used to it; I want everything to stay the way it is.”

thinks the reason lieb is the way he is is because “he was from the far west.” he and joe actually have very little interaction at all and he doesn’t have much to say about him. Tom Hanks rpf is fine strikes again

was drunk on iced tea and gin all the time at the end of the war

gets so mad about doing a final parade when his points came through that he “was in a mood to bayonet babies and roast both colonels over small fires.” immediately after that says what he “planned for peacock was unprintable.” this is the final time peacock is mentioned… guess they never made up

he really hated the army and the Nazis in a way that I feel like the show dropped by the final episode. like I think the real web would’ve shot the guy on the mountain. but that’s a discussion I’d like to have later

anyway he was smart and funny and a good writer and so full of life and i’m very sad about what happened to him

[fandomzwriterk]

Bi han x female reader x Kuai liang

Summary: Bi han and Kuai liang are both with liu Kang gathering champions and reader is one of them. When liu Kang first knocked on the reader's door and answered that is when they could not stop looking at you. The reason why liu Kang chose the reader is because they are skilled in various types of martial arts, know how to make a lot of poisons,skilled in weapons,and are very smart. They both fall for the reader,but the reader is oblivious to this and is not interested in relationships anyway,all she wants is to get stronger and make new friends.

- If you know the part in the game where Johnny cage meets them. This is what I want the request to be based on.

Thanks if you can do this 😄

A/N: “this is no prank” 🤣🤣🤣 Anyways this is kinda how my bf and I first met/acted in a zoom class so yeah…🤣🤣🤣 also this might be my favorite part aside from Tomas’ entrance in the game cause damnnnn he fineee😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Reader is a little based off Kiriko from Overwatch!! (I play her so I know her design/lore)

Kitsune of… Love?!

That night…

It had been a long night… and it couldn’t possibly get any worse, at least that’s what you had been hoping for. Your night was just perfectly annoying… because of one fanboy asshole and another one who was chasing around said fanboy. The one who had been holding your blade named Sento was face first into the marble flooring, his mouth shut with makeshift gags. He certainly wouldn’t shut up as soon as you beat his ass. So, you tied his arms behind his back and left him face first on the ground. The other had been more fortunate, only getting knocked out and tied to one of your dining room chairs. You didn’t dare ask the one who wouldn’t shut up and certainly couldn’t ask the knocked out guy. Surely it couldn’t get worse right?

Wrong

There was knocking on the door, so you sighed before picking up three kunai’s off the floor and holding them between your knuckles on your dominant hand. The other, empty in case someone dared to jump through the door as soon as you opened it. You opened it slightly having one eye peeking out into the street to see who it was. A man with long black hair and glowing white eyes greeted you, a smile as his two companions stared at you in curiosity.

“Y/n! It’s very good to see you. May I come inside?” He asked as his one hand moved to its right and in an ‘opening’ manner

Your guardians, may their souls be blessed wherever they were since they moved after you left home, raised you with manners and how to behave to guests, because “heaven forbid you decided to be a wild woman in your adulthood”. At least that’s how it was phrased as you were a little girl. You opened the door, much to your inner voice’s displeasure, and stared at the three men walking in. The one with white eyes stared at the man on the ground and then to the one strapped into the chair. A few of your weapons scattered about the living room stuck in the walls and dug into lots of your furniture. One of the men, wearing a blue gi and forming ice at his fingertips, stared at you as you walked around the room plucking out kunai’s, darts, and throwing knives from the walls.

“What in the name of the Elder Gods happened here?”

“Relax Bi Han. She’s not a threat.”

“Lord Liu Kang… who is she?”

You ignored their conversation, putting a hand on the chair and dragging it over to these new three men. It was heavy, looking to your side as you saw the one with bright white eyes look over the man passed out on the floor at his feet.

“My. You took down Johnny Cage… I’m impressed.”

You looked behind you, locking eyes with the other two men who stood behind you a few feet away, seeming to be ready to attack at any moment.

“The idiot wasn’t smart enough to do more research.”

“That’s Johnny for you.”

The one with white eyes took a step in for direction, making you take one back and ready a kunai. The one in blue made his move and charged before anyone could say anything.

“Bi Han! Stand down!”

The one named Bi Han froze, just as one of his hands was nearly going to grab you by the neck and throw you backwards. He grunted, walking to the other men and stood there with his arms crossed.

“Why are you here? How do you know my name? How did you find me?”

Granted, a mansion in Los Angeles surrounded by walls and fences next to a mountainside is the best spot but you sort of ‘earned’ this one. Who were you to say no to a glorious house you didn’t have to pay for.

“My name is Liu Kang, Protector of Earthrealm and god of fire. You, Y/n, are one of its champions.”

“You must be mistaken. I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. Perhaps you’re talking about needing a weapon of sorts?”

“No. I’m talking about you. You don’t remember us but trust me, I know a lot about you.”

He looked to the two men you’d beaten before he got here. One was named Johnny Cage, a massive fanboy of yours and he wasn’t the only one. The other, as you found out before making him pass out, was Kenshi Takahashi, a man also on the hunt for you. It wasn’t that you were in danger. No no no… they were the ones who were in danger.

“Alright then God of Fire… tell me something only you and I would know.”

“Your secret behind your prowess of your skills is that you are born from a family of healers, your parents having raised you in kinjitsu and using your Kitsune guide to harness your strength. You said you were destined to be a healer since your grandmother first taught you to start healing someone.”

You froze, never having told anyone this story of yourself to anyone… only keeping the darkness of your past behind you and try to forget it. This man was right, you’d been a healer and also a curser, someone who dabbled in poisons and deadly smaller weapons.

“How do you know that?”

“I know lots of things about you Y/n. I know of who you used to train with as a child as well. I know a lot more… if you care to hear about it.”

“Is this blackmail? So I do whatever you want me to do? No. I’m not like that. I’m better than that. You can’t control me with what you claim to know.”

“This is no blackmail Y/n. Trust me, I’m only here as a friend, just like how I’m here for Kenshi and Johnny.”

Bi Han moved past Liu Kang, readying an icicle spear with his hands ready to attack.

“Bi Han don’t.”

“She won’t listen to reason and I intend-“

You quickly shot a dart into Bi Han’s neck, seeing his expression change to fear as he fell onto his back and didn’t move once he hit the floor. Liu Kang just stood there with his arms crossed, holding back a laugh.

“By the Elder gods what did you do to him?”

You dusted off your shoulder, just to flex on Bi Han who lay paralyzed on the floor.

“Easy. Wolfbane. Paralysis and numbness, just below the lethal amount. Had I put any more and he’d be shitting himself and puking his guts out. He should’ve listened to you and not moved. Just give him Thyme and Lamb’s Creat in a wine. He’ll be fine in a few hours… maybe more.”

Liu Kang chuckled, leaving Kuai Liang sweating as he felt fear creep up his spine at the fear this woman in front of him radiated.

“There’s our classic Y/n I know. Care to follow us back home?”

You paused for a moment, thinking about whether or not the consequences of your actions would affect you. Surely nothing bad could come of this right?

Many, many months later…

Yeah… you didn’t regret meeting the other Champions. Raiden and Kung Lao were so happy to have you as a mentor, granted you aren’t much older than them. They watched you fight with such awe. It was almost like they regarded you as an equal to Liu Kang. You were strong, beating the both of them and Kenshi and Johnny again. You could train all day every day, as long as you didn’t hurt yourself. It was fun being able to get stronger in a way you never could as a child. All you had were two trainees you had grown alongside. It felt so relieving, being able to get better without anyone stopping you and now having an occasional “fan” watching you.

“You sure like to keep that blade don’t you now Johnny? You better not lose it, it’s still mine.”

“Yeah yeah I got it. Don’t break the sword.”

You rolled your eyes as Johnny and Kenshi walked away, going off to find Geras and Liu Kang, as they had a mission for the two men, along with Raiden and Kung Lao. Both weren’t happy and they’d much rather train with you, but they couldn’t say no to Liu Kang.

“Be safe and don’t do anything stupid.” You answered back

You went back to your training against the floppy dummy behind held in front of you with a stand. You’d purposely brought your dull knives on this occasion, since wearing down your good pairs would be pointless. As of now, you’d only lost one throwing knife since you’ve been here, having it get frozen and broken by Bi Han.

“You seem bored.” A voice called behind you

You looked behind you, seeing both Kuai Liang and Bi Han strutting up to you, specifically noticing Kuai Liang’s eyes focused on you. They seemed excited.

“Would you like someone to train with?”

“Or two?”

Sure? Why not indulge in showing off to the brothers? After all nothing bad could happen from this!

Wrong again…

Yep. That was a bad idea. It wasn’t even five minutes before Bi Han started correcting you, and you could see Kuai Liang cringing in the corner.

“Now do this… put this here-“

“You can stop overcorrecting brother.”

Bi Han shot his brother a look, Kuai clearly mad at something as well.

“I’m just making sure she’s fine.”

“I’m sure she can handle herself. She did beat you.”

You let out a small laugh as Kuai’s eyes settled to you, something comforting and warm inside them. Bi Han then turned his head to face you, you felt like winning against Bi Han might’ve been a really good thing. His ego was as large as he was, and it needed to get cut a little.

“Oh shut up little brother. You’re one to talk.”

Kuai playfully shrugged and moved to be by your side, turning you around so your attention was now on him. You could see Bi Han glare at his brother, then had a soft smile when he turned his head to you.

“Come on Bi Han. Let’s do this together.”

“Together? Why would I share a student with you?”

“Because we both can teach her something.”

“Oh please brother, like you have anything to teach that I didn’t learn. You and Tomas both. After all, I am Grand Master and leader of the Lin Kuei. What can you do that I can’t?”

“Not have my head up my ass like you.”

Alright time to go. You closed your eyes, shifting your hands into a ninjitsu symbol and felt yourself turn into air. You needed to be somewhere, anywhere away from these two. Maybe by sheer coincidence, you came stumbling into the room stumbling into Liu Kang, Raiden, and Tomas.

“Oh! Y/n! What brings you here?” Raiden asked

“Please don’t let them-“

“I’ve got you. Take this, I can distract them.”

Tomas threw you a smoke bomb, just one for you to escape and hide from his brothers. Raiden followed as he and Liu Kang let Tomas walk ahead.

“I really can’t believe I’m in a family with those two.”

To be continued….?

A/n: yeahhhhhh I’m sorry I’ve been taking so long I swear I’m working on them. Life’s been really shitty over the last 3 weeks so yeah… I’m mega unmotivated🥲 Anyways… PLEASE DON’T SPOIL DLC CAUSE I HAVEN’T PLAYED IT YET!!! Thank you, goodnight! Hope you enjoyed!

[6okuto]

UNIVERSITY WITH AKAASHI

gn!reader | no more posts set in high school!! time for everyone to grow up! /j

university student akaashi who you meet in an english/writing course. he stands in front of your spot and nervously fiddles with the sleeves of his jacket, hoping you notice him and look up. "um," he hesitates. "is anyone sitting next to you?"

maybe it's because he's just so pretty, but you think it's cute how he visibly relaxes when you shake your head and move to let him sit beside you.

university student akaashi who quickly becomes your go-to classmate after being paired for icebreakers and luckily exchanging contact info during your first class. you think it's too early to call him your friend, but he softly laughs at your explanation during two truths and one lie, and you hope that title will come easier by the end of the semester.

akaashi who, after a week, finally gains the courage to ask if you're busy after class today. a sequel he's been anticipating is supposed to be in stock now, and if you'd like to join him on a bookstore trip, he'd like the company. you, of course, agree, and he smiles and softly says, "thanks."

you ask him to explain the plot on your trip there and he's embarrassed, stumbling over his words and having to backtrack to explain lore, but happy nonetheless. he's going in-depth about his favourite character's development by the time you reach the store, and you don't think you'd ever have it in you to stop him from talking.

you wonder if it would be weirder if you looked for a copy of the first book yourself.

akaashi who always seems to have some sort of caffeinated drink when he walks into the afternoon class. he says he's tired by lunch time and it'll keep him awake. you nod. "what's life but treating yourself every once in a while?"

he snickers, even if he's making fun of himself when he asks, "you mean every day?"

"obviously. uni's hard, we deserve it," you tease with a nudge to his shoulder.

the next class, he's bought you a snack you mentioned enjoying. he fiddles with his straw, stirring the ice inside his cup while your face heats up. he repeats your words from a couple days before, "you deserve it."

akaashi who knows you despise the idea of peer reviews and having to read feedback. it's why you let out a breath of relief when the professor tells you you can choose your partner, and by the time you turn, keiji's already looking at you.

you quadruple check everything before sending the document, and take 30 minutes alongside coaxing texts from keiji himself before you manage to open the edited version the day after.

it takes you a second to realize, but your breath hitches when you do. he's taken the time to make a copy of his feedback with little compliments and doodles of him, like one doing a thumbs up next to a "great point :)", another clapping beside your conclusion saying "you did it :-) !", and one sitting on top of a paragraph just to make you smile.

when you thank him the next day, your face is warm, and his face is red. your eyes flicker over to him playing with the hair by his ear while he promises he'd do it again any time you needed.

akaashi who you've come to find out isn't just the quiet, pretty, smart guy in class. he's also the guy you often find yourself on call with at 11pm, hair messy and glasses drooping on his nose. he apologizes for his state and the fact that he's wearing a shirt with a sort of shitty collage of low quality cat images, and you’re barely holding in your laugh while you shake your head and reassure him it's fine.

you have to tell him to at least add something to the noodles he keeps eating during exam week, and threaten to block him when he teases you for the incoherent questions you stutter out at 1am. in return he checks on you when he sees you listening to your sad playlist, and lets you see the other shirts he's gotten over the past couple of years.

you beg him to tell you where he found the one of an english setter with "dog setter" written on it, and he asks why you want to copy him.

"i just...love your style so much, keiji. it's so bold and creative—camp, even."

and keiji laughs, really laughs, trying and failing to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. even with his smile covered, you watch his eyes crinkle and can't help but secretly raise your headphones' volume, just a little.

"yeah, okay, thanks." he laughs a little one more time. "if you do well on your exam, i'll bring it the next time we meet up so you can try it," he offers with an amused smile.

"really? you'd let me have the honour?"

keiji rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, tilting his head while looking at you. he runs his fingers through his hair and it's really more attractive than it should be.

"yeah, of course," he promises.

it's a silly shirt, and a silly idea, but your heart rate quickens just a little at the thought of him sharing his clothes.

and keiji is glad you can't see his other hand fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt, because secretly, he feels the same way, too.

sorry for the Blatant projection when i said u don't like reading feedback. that's actually just me. it's bad. whatever. this was actually fun OMG i love akaashi and hate uni fr . we as a community must talk abt charas in uni more. Please. for my happiness.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired

[lafaiette]

Based on this post by @wendynerdwrites: Solas treating everyone at the Lighthouse except Varric like complete morons, but becoming a puppy as soon as Lavellan shows up.

Spoilers for Veilguard!

Davrin was used to facing dangerous situations - the life of a Warden was not an easy one -, but no fight against darkspawn, no exploration of dark, damp roads could compare to the horror of sharing a place with the worst enemy of his people's lore.

Solas, the Dread Wolf, was... a cold man. No unnecessarily cruel like old Dalish legends described him, but certainly ruthless, ready to make sacrifices if it could help finally defeat the Evanuris.

There was a certain distance in his eyes and tone whenever he spoke with the new guests of his old base - that, and badly hidden rage, boiling just below the surface. He was haunted by the failed ritual, by Rook's intervention, by Varric's wound, by years of regrets.

Davrin's superiors had always insisted on a particular point: don't fight battles you can't win. Giant ogre making its way through a narrow tunnel? Run, or you will die under the rubble. Too many darkspawn surrounding you and your fellow Grey Wardens? Retreat, and plan a better strategy.

The Dread Wolf haunts your dreams, turning them into nightmares? Be respectful, da'len, do not enrage him further, and avoid him.

So Davrin did just that. He greeted Solas, but didn't dare ask him questions. He wasn't scared of speaking up in his presence, but he did so with an even tone, not really wanting to attract his attention.

Unfortunately, his being a Grey Warden was something Solas simply couldn't understand - or forgive? -, for the Dread Wolf once found him in the courtyard, taking care of Assan's feathers, and spoke to him without hesitation, without mercy.

"That is a beautiful creature."

Assan chirped happily - he was one of the few ones in the Lighthouse, Varric and Manfred included, who wasn't scared of Fen'Harel.

"Ah, thank you." Davrin nodded at him, then went back to brushing the griffon's feathers. "He's growing up so fast."

A moment of silence, then Solas spoke again, a thin veil of ice in his voice:

"I could not help but notice he fights with you."

"Well... Yes?" Davrin didn't turn back, increasing his focus on the least oily feathers, the ones that needed more care. "Grey Wardens and griffons fight together. We're supposed to build a bond."

"Why would you bring your beloved companion into battle?" Solas sounded furious, now. "Among the Blight and the darkspawn?"

"Because that's what Grey Wardens must do." Davrin did turn around this time, hoping his glare directed at Solas wouldn't condemn him to a week of nightmares. "It's not like Assan fights at my side for the whole time. He flies above the battlefield, and attacks only when I call him."

"Because he is still young. But he will join you once he is older, and ready, and your bond strong." Solas shook his head, distaste clear on his face. "And then he will risk getting blighted, poison in his veins."

"It's terrible, I know," Davrin agreed, for the thought of losing his friend in battle had kept him awake many nights in a row, "but it's a risk we must run if we want to fight the darkspawn."

"Did you ask Assan if he wants to run this risk?" Solas arched an eyebrow. "Or did you decide for him?"

"What-"

Solas walked away, uttering a "tsk", and Davrin was left there, open-mouthed, shock and pain making his head buzz.

Assan let out a sad squeak, bumping his beak against his cheek.

--------

"You are doing it wrong."

"O-Oh?"

Bellara turned around, the elven device she was tinkering with falling on the ground. Solas, standing under the doorframe, looked at it, then at her, and she shrinked under his cold, almost disappointed gaze.

"What... What I was doing wrong?"

Oh, she hated how thin her voice sounded, but she couldn't help it! He was one of her gods! The deity of lies, trickery, and rebellion, the creator of the Veil, the reason why a breach in the Fade had appeared in the sky ten years prior! He scared her!

"Everything." Solas narrowed his eyes, then walked away, heading to his original destination, leaving her there, fuming and confused, angry at him and herself, angry at the device and its secrets, angry at her mind for not being able to understand them.

She picked it up from the floor, but didn't tinker with it again, leaving it on the table, like a forgotten relic.

--------

Harding gently closed the door of Varric's room, so that he wouldn't wake. The wound was getting better, but he was still weak, frail. His fever had broken just the day before.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Solas walked out from the shadows just around the corner - seriously, wasn't a lighthouse supposed to be well-lit?

"How is he?" he asked, almost whispering, dark sorrow on his face.

Harding glared at him, torn between telling him to shove it and answering in a civil way.

In the end, her polite side won, prompted by the memories of their days in the Inquisition, when Solas would accompany the Inquisitor in all her trips and explorations.

He would often narrate beautiful stories at dinner, when the Inquisitor decided to stop at the main campsites where Harding was stationed. He was always kind with the Inquisition soldiers, and once he had complimented Harding's study of a map.

But he had hurt the Inquisitor, and now Varric, and she found forgiveness hard to find in her frightened, enraged heart.

"He's alive." She shook her head. "He's sleeping now, so come visit him later."

"And the wound?"

"It's healing, but I don't like the look of the skin around it. It's getting inflamed, I think." She sighed, making a mental list of all the plants in her room. "I might have something to help him, but I'll need to check and-"

"My magic may help."

Her rude side won over the polite one. Oh, how her mother would scold her if she knew.

"Your magic? I'm sorry, but your magic is what caused all this in the first place!"

She approached him, teeth gritted, fists clenched, and he didn't move, staring down at her with that cold pain that morphed his face into a pale, ancient expanse of regret.

"Your magic almost destroyed the world ten years ago! Your magic almost destroyed it now! Your magic maimed the Inquisitor-"

Something passed over his face - more pain and sorrow -, and she realized she had gone too far, for his next words were too controlled, too calm. He was about to explode just like she had.

"Enough, child of the Stone."

"How dare you!"

All the pain, fear, and shock Harding had packed away in her heart - like many jagged rocks she wanted pick and examine in peace in the quiet of the room - erupted from her. Her eyes burned.

"How dare you call me like that, after what my people lost!"

"Your people are not the only ones who lost everything."

"Well, at least we're not the ones trying to destroy this world to bring it all back!"

She stormed away, hoping her outburst hadn't caused Varric to awaken.

--------

"He's here!"

"What?"

Lucanis looked up from the pot of soup he was preparing for lunch, and lo and behold, the Dread Wolf was indeed there.

Spite respected him and feared him in equal measure. He was the only one who could speak with the demon in a real, coherent way, and make it listen.

Sometimes Lucanis envied him.

"May I help you?" he said, stirring the pot after adding more salt. "It won't be ready for one more hour, I think."

"Spirit, how are you feeling?"

"It's not a spirit." Lucanis spat out before Spite could answer. It was standing next to him, not slouching as usual, but standing tall, almost proud. "It's a demon."

"That's a matter of debate."

"A matter of- it's possessing me!"

"It does not wish to be with you just as much as you do not want it with you." Solas glared at him, before setting his eyes on Spite again. His expression changed, turning kinder, more patient.

"How are you feeling?"

"... Constricted."

Lucanis gawked at it.

"Oh, for... Constricted by what? I bring you everywhere!"

Solas ignored him. "Have you tried shaping the world around you? We are in the Fade here, after all."

"I have, but it doesn't listen! Not as long as I am..."

Spite growled and glared at Lucanis, who glared back, stirring his minestrone with more rage the recipe requested.

"I see. I promise I will try to find a way to help you. It might be difficult, due to your particular circumstances, but..."

"You want to help it?" Lucanis dropped the spoon into the pot, staring at the tall elf with disbelief. "Do you know what this fiend did to me while we were locked away in Renata's prison? What about helping me get rid of it?"

"It tortured you because it was tortured. It still is."

Solas' eyes looked cold even under the light coming from the fireplace. Lucanis realized he would probably never convince him, nor understand him.

"Bah!" He went back to his dish. "No wonder nobody here likes you, lupo."

Solas went away, quiet, his steps the lightest Lucanis had ever heard.

--------

"You remind me of an old friend."

Taash looked up from the axe they were polishing, hoping they had heard it wrong.

Solas was checking some supplies. They hadn't exchanged a single word when he had entered, and Taash was glad of it, because they really didn't know how to act around that guy. Plus, their mood wasn't exactly the best these days, after a hard defeat against a particularly stubborn dragon that had badly burned their leg.

But now, this.

"How old, exactly? Millennia old? Decade old?"

"Decade. Do you know the Bull's Chargers?"

"I heard of 'em. Mercenary group led by the Tal-Vashoth who joined the Inquisition, yeah?"

Solas nodded, still checking the contents of an armory chest.

"So... I remind you of that guy?"

"Sometimes, yes."

Taash blinked. And waited.

"Why? Just because we're both Tal-Vashoth?"

"No." Solas barely looked at them as he closed the chest. "He also deeply admired dragons."

"Oh. Sounds like a cool guy, then." Taash grinned, dipping the cloth into a pot of oil and starting to polish a new area of their axe. "I bet he'd have enjoyed fighting that dragon from the other day."

"Oh, yes. But unlike you, he would have definitely prevailed."

"Why, you little piece of shit!"

They rose, furious and embarrassed, cheeks on fire and axe ready to be used, but he had already left.

--------

"What is that supposed to be?"

Neve almost dropped her pencil.

"A map?" She narrowed her eyes at him. She had tracked him down in Minrathous, yes, but he had still escaped her, in a certain way. She hated that.

"Of course it is a map." Solas' tone was as icy as hers. He knew it was her fault Varric and Rook had found him. "But what are you drawing on it?"

"Possible places where the Evanuris may be hiding."

"Hiding?" He snarled, letting out a disgusted noise. "They are not hiding. They are preparing, setting the stage, gathering power-"

"One more reason to find them as soon as possible, then."

"-And those are not the places they would choose for such a purpose."

Neve felt her right eye twitch.

"Well, since you know them so well," Solas' face turned into a mask of pure outrage at that, "perhaps you could kindly share your opinion so that we may find them sooner."

"How am I supposed to know? Don't you think I would have already done something, had I known where they are?"

He scoffed at her meticulous drawings and walked away. She gritted her teeth, frustrated, then looked back at the map, feeling almost embarrassed.

She refused to erase her marks, though.

--------

Emmrich believed himself to be a patient man, but oh, every time the Dread Wolf was involved he could just feel his patience run thin.

"Manfred, could you please hand me that book? Thank you."

A groan, rattling of bones, and Emmrich smiled.

"Indeed, it is quite interesting. I will give it back to you as soon as I'm done with these notes."

He heard footsteps coming from the staircase, but he ignored them, too engrossed in his research. He heard Manfred prepare more tea, sure it was one of their friends come to visit, but then...

"This is wrong."

Startled, Emmric raised his eyes. Solas was looking at Manfred, watching him choose the right leaves.

"I assure you, Manfred's tea knows no equal. Everyone in the Mourn Watch loves it!"

Solas glared at him, jaw tight, and the very air around him seemed to quiver. Emmrich realized he had said the wrong thing, and slightly bowed his head.

"I apologize if my words offended you, Solas. Is there something I can help you with?"

"You are torturing this poor spirit."

Manfred groaned, shaking his head, and Solas scoffed, shocked by his words.

"This is not your place! You are not supposed to be bound to a corpse!"

"I would let Manfred make that decision."

"How could he do that? You already did it for him."

A pang of pain, like the sting of a thorn in his heart, then Emmrich took a deep breath.

"You are mistaken. This is what Manfred wants."

Solas couldn't hide his disgust, his contempt, as he stared at him. Then he turned to Manfred, sorrow and grief replacing his ire, and he shook his head.

"This is wrong," he repeated, and Emmrich wondered whether he was still talking about Manfred or everything else, the Lighthouse filled with strangers, the Evanuris running free, the world on the brink of destruction.

"I am sorry." Emmrich said, but Solas ignored him and left the room, his steps heavy like those of the corpses that roamed the Necropolis.

--------

"Tell him to stop!"

"Tell him to leave."

"I can't do this anymore, Rook, I really can't!"

"He criticizes everything. He's always there, judging us, and nothing is ever right!"

"Doesn't he have another base he can use? Or maybe we should move."

"Varric, perhaps you may talk with him?"

"Don't worry." Varric smiled from his bed, tapping his fingers on the heavy blanket Harding had found for him. "I sent words to a certain someone just a few days ago. She will join us tomorrow."

Rook looked at him, confused.

"Who are you talking about?"

Harding gasped, not sure whether to grin like a madwoman or scold Varric for his insane idea.

"You did not!"

"I did." Varric looked extremely satisfied, his smug smile almost hiding the gauntness of his cheeks. "Wear your best outfits, guys - the Inquisitor is coming to visit us."

--------

She stepped out of the main eluvian, and the first thing she did was smile at everyone. And everyone thought she looked young, very pretty, but also sad, and a bit tired.

"Inquisitor."

"It's an honor, Inquisitor Lavellan."

"My lady, thank you for coming."

They bowed to her, except for Harding who got a hug, and she told them all those formalities were not necessary.

"I'm not Inquisitor anymore." Her smile was small, but sincere and warm. "Please just call me Scarlet."

Bellara admired her prosthetic arm, and promised her to show her the special gauntlet she used in battle. Davrin tried not to stare at her bare face, but everyone had heard the rumors - how the Inquisitor had come back to Skyhold after a trip with her beloved Solas, face free from vallaslin, her eyes filled with tears for weeks, her lover staring at her from a distance with grief in his eyes.

"How is Varric?" Worry and sorrow made her look older. "May I see him?"

"Of course. This way."

She didn't try to hide her awe and curiosity as they led her through the Lighthouse to Varric's room. She devoured everything, eyes setting on every minute detail.

She gasped when she saw the murals in the library, and it was clear she was looking for traces of Solas, too. She searched for him with her eyes, hoping to see him appear from behind a door or around the corner.

The more they walked, heading to Varric's room, the more she grew disappointed. Rook hurried to reassure her he wasn't hiding, not this time.

"Solas went to one of his old hideouts to retrieve some useful parchments. He believes they could be useful to track down the Evanuris."

"Oh." She blushed, pleased.

"He should be here soon."

"I see."

She was shaking due to excitement and anxiety. Ten years had passed since their last meeting, after all. Rook and their companions led her gently through her lover's Lighthouse, hoping she could be the change they desperately needed.

She gasped when they brought her outside, in the courtyard, and she stared at the giant wolf statue that stood at its center, right above the Caretaker's workshop, for a long time.

The spirit observed her in silence. She saw it and smiled, greeting it with a bow of her head.

"You are finally here, after all this time," it said, and her smile widened, looking almost impish.

"I never give up."

She hugged Varric with all the delicateness, love, and care of a daughter. He held her true hand as she sat next to his bed, patting it between his calloused ones, and tried to reassure her that he was fine, that he was recovering nicely.

Guilt and pain never left her face as they spoke.

"Shy, it's not your fault." Varric smiled at her, while Davrin and Rook prepared the poultice he needed to apply on his wound twice a day. Emmrich checked his temperature and pulse, and used a spell to soothe his fatigue.

The others stood around, ready to help, wanting to spend more time with that famous figure, with the woman who had stolen the Dread Wolf's heart.

"I never should have sent you and Harding on that mission."

"I would have gone regardless."

"Me too!"

Scarlet sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, then." She tried to smile again. "Tell me everything."

Neve was just about to share her theories about the Evanuris' possible locations, when the door opened.

"Why are you all here? Is Varric alright-"

Solas froze, staring at the Inquisitor, mouth slightly open. He looked on the verge of a panic attack, thought Harding and Bellara; or a heart attack, thought Davrin and Taash; or perhaps even a stroke, thought Lucanis and Neve.

Emmrich thought he looked ready to crumple on the floor and cry.

Scarlet stared back, cheeks red, then she slowly relaxed and gently said:

"Hello, Solas."

He let out an odd sound, something between a sob and a croak. Then he ran away, and they all shared looks with each other, bewildered.

They had never seen him like that. So... vulnerable. Soft. Inoffensive.

"You really tamed him, Inquisitor." Lucanis snorted, earning himself a smack on the arm from Bellara.

"Don't worry, Shy, you will catch him soon enough." Varric said, smiling at the empty space where Solas had stood. "He can't run from you anymore."

--------

Rook gave the Inquisitor one of the best rooms of the Lighthouse. She retired there for an hour or so to recover from her long journey, and in the meantime the other guests went to the dining room to prepare dinner.

"Do you think he's visiting her right now?" Bellara asked, smiling brightly, for she found the whole situation pretty romantic. Harding sighed, shrugging.

"Who knows. Maybe? I don't think so, to be honest. He needs to recover from the shock."

"He's probably hiding in a broom closet." Lucanis snickered while cutting the vegetables for their salad. "Or rehearsing their next conversation."

"Assuming he'll be able to speak this time." Taash mumbled, making Neve chuckle.

The door opened, and Solas entered, looking almost haggard. His eyes scanned the room, and he didn't hide his disappointment when he didn't see the Inquisitor.

It was rare for him to join them at dinner. He would usually eat his food alone, either in his room or in the library.

And it was definitely rarer for him to help them set the table, but he did so this time, making sure to choose the best plates, and placing a bowl of berries and fruits at the centre.

"Don't we have any cake?" he asked, heading to the pantry and glaring at the shelves filled with cheese, bread, and ham. "Not even sweet tarts?"

"I don't think so." Lucanis said. He raised an eyebrow when Solas went back into the dining room, a storm brewing on his face. "Is it for the Inquisitor? I could bake something special next time."

"No." Solas narrowed his eyes. "I will take care of it."

Lucanis swore in Antivan under his breath, ignoring Spite's protests to shut up and let the Dread Wolf be.

The door opened again, and this time the Inquisitor entered. Solas' demeanor changed in an instant - one moment he was a surly, grumpy old elf, the next an excited, timid puppy, looking at her with big eyes, drinking every detail of her.

"Good evening." Scarlet greeted everyone with her warm smile. She blushed when she saw Solas, and repeated, softly: "Good evening."

"Good evening, vhen- Inquisitor."

Her blush deepened, and they stood there, awkward and shy, until Emmrich took pity on them and cleared his throat.

"Lady Scarlet, dinner is almost ready. Where would you like to sit?"

"Oh, I have no preference."

She walked around the table so her back would be to the fireplace and approached the first chair on her right, but Solas anticipated her: he pulled out the chair for her and gently pushed it back until she was comfortable enough.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him, and his face turned pink, his eyes the biggest puppy eyes the group had ever seen.

He stood next to her, probably not sure whether she wanted him to sit at her side or not, until she noticed his weird behaviour.

"Solas, are you eating with us?"

"I... Yes."

"Then you should sit." She nodded at the chair next to her, and her smile was gentle, but also a bit amused, and he hurried to do as she said.

"Of course."

He sat down, clearly happy she had given him permission to be at her side, and they were so busy dealing with each other's close proximity, that they didn't see the look Davrin and Neve shared, nor heard Taash's snort and Lucanis' "Maker, aiutaci".

"How was your journey?" Solas asked, fidgeting with the napkin and the cutlery, his tone apparently neutral, but not really.

"Long." Scarlet sighed. "I'm not used to traversing such distances anymore. And I'm not a twenty years old Inquisitor anymore."

"You are beautiful." Solas murmured, and everyone around them froze, studying Scarlet's reaction.

Her blush reached her ears, and she breathed out a soft, flattered laugh.

"Thank you."

"Oh my." Emmrich whispered to Harding as they poured the stew - her mother's original recipe - into each dish. "He is truly smitten."

"If anyone can stop him from being an absolute ass, it's her."

--------

"Aren't you a cutie?"

Scarlet laughed and giggled as Assan chirped and rubbed his body against her legs, looking for pets. She gave them to him, stroking his feathers, his head, and Davrin smiled proudly at the scene.

"I have never seen a griffon before. Are they all as beautiful as you, Assan?"

A negative chirp, the little rascal puffing out his chest, and Scarlet laughed again.

Solas was standing a few paces away, also watching them, awkward and quiet, yearning for her touch. Davrin glanced at him, and his previous fears suddenly evaporated.

"Pity Solas said he might die soon."

"What?"

"What?"

The Dread Wolf went to them, his strides long and hurried, panic on his paling face.

"I never said such a thing!"

"You said I am risking his life by taking him into battle, where the Blight is." Davrin gave him a flat, cold look. "And I know you're right. I know I'm being selfish, following centuries-old traditions that make little sense to anyone who isn't a Grey Warden. But this is part of our sacrifice, of the grief we must carry."

Solas took a deep breath, visibly torn between arguing with him and not wanting to do so in front of Scarlet. But she intervened, her voice calm and solemn, and Davrin realized she must have spoken like that during her time as Inquisitor, too.

"Once the Evanuris are finally dead and the Blight is no more, you won't have to sacrifice yourselves and your companions anymore."

She stroked Assan's head, cupping his muzzle and looking into his big eyes.

"There will be finally peace, and griffons will be able to fly alongside people without fearing any corruption. Isn't that right, Assan?"

He squeaked happily, and Davrin felt a rush of gratefulness and hope invade his heart. But what most shocked him was Solas' reaction: he stared at Lady Lavellan with big, awed eyes, his expression the most stricken and softest Davrin had ever seen.

"You are right," he said to her, and the Grey Warden blinked, not believing his ears.

"I know!" She grinned at her lover, then went back to petting the griffon, while the Dread Wolf watched her as an once blind man would watch the first sunrise of his life.

--------

"I'm sorry, lethallan, I fear I don't understand how this works yet." Bellara fidgeted with her many pouches. "But...! Let me know if you have any ideas! Two minds are better than one, after all!"

"I'm not an expert by any means." Scarlet shrugged, turning the little elven device in her hands over and over again. "I could ask Solas, if that's alright."

"Oh." Bellara's face fell. She couldn't help it. "That would be... I don't think he would agree."

"What? Why?" Scarlet looked genuinely surprised. "Nonsense, he loves sharing knowledge and helping people learn!"

Bellara felt her face shift into a grimace, the one she would make whenever she ate something sour or her research didn't proceed as smoothly as she liked.

"I'll go look for him- oh, Solas, you're here!"

Scarlet rose from her seat as he appeared from behind the open door - had he been nearby for the whole time, watching them, waiting for her to call him!?

"Could you please help us unlock this? I fear neither me or Bellara know how it works."

"Of course."

There was a warm, pleased smile on his face. Bellara shuddered, not used to such a sight. Scarlet shared some of their theories with him, and he listened, proud and patient, soft and sweet, before gently taking the device from her hands (their fingers brushed, and they both blushed) and showing her how to activate it.

"Just like that!?" Bellara spluttered, shocked by how simple it had been. "You just needed to press it like that!?"

Scarlet gasped, curious and in awe.

"Oh, it's beautiful, it opened like a flower! What does it do?"

"It's a catalogue." Solas used a bit of magic to further activate it. "A small portable archive."

Bellara bit her lips, trying to contain herself, then she acted, unable to stop herself: she snatched the archive out of his hands and stared at every minuscule detail, overjoyed and excited.

"This is incredible! I can't wait to read everything it contains!"

She beamed at the Inquisitor, admiring her even more than before.

"Thank you, lethallan! I was going crazy over this!" She turned to Solas, giving him a flat look, which he returned.

"If only someone had deigned to explain how it worked sooner."

Bellara left, but not before turning around to see Lady Scarlet fold her arms and scold Solas with a simple, but very effective look. Bellara could almost see his ears drop and his shoulders slump.

--------

Lucanis sighed, rolling his eyes.

"My lady, Spite wants you to know you're very beautiful."

Scarlet smiled. He had explained his delicate situation to her, and even though she couldn't see the demon, she acted as if she could.

"Thank you, Spite."

Lucanis frowned, then growled.

"No, you little piece of garbage, I'm not telling her that!"

He grunted when Spite hit him, making his nose bleed again. Scarlet gasped, babbling something.

"Are you alright!? What happened?" Then she turned towards the door and called out: "Solas, come quickly!"

Before he could understand what was happening, Lucanis felt the Dread Wolf's hand on his head. The pressure caused by Spite's outburst vanished, and he could finally think clearly again.

"Oh. That was..." Lucanis stretched his neck. Spite was still with him, of course, but it felt as if he were sleeping, taking a much needed nap.

Scarlet beamed at Solas.

"Thank you."

Solas blushed and returned the smile. Lucanis glared at him, and the lupo had the gall to ignore him, completely enraptured by Scarlet's smile.

"Stronzo figlio di puttana, grandissimo figlio di buona donna..." the Crow muttered for the whole evening while reading on his cot in the pantry.

-------

"Bull would have liked you."

Taash's mouth was set in a thin line.

"Because he liked dragons, too, right?"

"Not just that. He would have loved fighting with you against one. It's clear you deeply respect them, too."

Taash glared at Solas, who was pretending to check the weapons and armors, but was actually accompanying Lady Scarlet wherever she went.

"I couldn't defeat one the other day."

"Oh, that's totally normal!" Scarlet laughed. "We couldn't defeat one in Emprise du Lion the first time we tried either! It almost burned us to a crisp, and Bull and Cole had to carry me and Solas all the way back to camp."

She giggled remembering the scene.

"Do you remember that, Solas?"

He cleared his throat.

"I do."

She laughed again, the old memories of better days making her face glow, and Solas' face as he looked at her was so sickeningly sweet, Taash felt a shiver run down their spine. They had never seen the Dread Wolf act like that.

"Is that right?" they drawled, judging him hard after their last conversation - but he had eyes for Lavellan only.

--------

"Thank you, Manfred. Your tea was delicious."

Manfred rattled happily, and had he been able to blush, he would have done so. Emmrich smiled at the scene.

"He thanks you in return, my lady."

"You can understand him, then?"

"Oh, yes! We hold many interesting conversations. Manfred is an excellent herbalist and alchemist."

"That's wonderful." Scarlet smiled at the skeleton, but then her expression slowly turned into something more pensive, kind of melancholy.

"Are you... happy like this, Manfred?"

He nodded, the green gems of his eyes shining brightly under the lights of Emmrich's study. Scarlet studied him for a second, then her smile returned, filled with trust.

"That's wonderful. I wish you all the best - should you need anything, just let me know, alright? Maybe I could find a way to understand you, too."

Ah, Emmrich could see why Solas loved her so much.

Manfred gurgled a "thank you, my lady", and when Emmrich raised his head to the spiral staircase, he saw Solas watching them, pining and yearning, the rage from their old conversation completely gone, replaced by wonder.

--------

"What about the High Reaches you marked here? I feel like they might be a good hiding place, too."

Neve scoffed despite herself. She wasn't angry at the Inquisitor, of course, but at her lover and his dreadful lack of tact and good manners.

"Solas said the Evanuris aren't hiding, but gathering more power. And that they wouldn't do that in places like this."

She raised an eyebrow when she spotted him on the railing above the library. Maker, he really followed Lady Scarlet everywhere, like a lost puppy.

"Oh." The Inquisitor looked back at the map, worried and deflated. "He's probably right. He knows how they think better than we do."

"That's...!"

Solas walked down the stairs - no, almost ran, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Let me check, vhen- Inquisitor. Perhaps I was mistaken."

Neve's eyebrows reached her hairline.

"You mean here?" he asked, pointing at the range of mountains near Minrathous. His hand slightly hovered over Lady Scarlet's back, almost touching it.

"Yes. It's near Tevinter's capital, so I thought..."

"That is an excellent idea. Yes, they might be commanding their minions from there, close to their main objectives."

Neve snorted, not really angry and annoyed anymore. In fact, she was amused, and she realized she had found one more piece of evidence that proved how smitten, how sappy the Dread Wolf was when it came to Lady Scarlet.

--------

"How can you..." Harding sighed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "How can you look at him, talk with him, without feeling the urge to... to..."

She groaned, tossing a pebble into the pond in her room.

"I love him." Scarlet said, simply, softly. "I know you're very angry, Harding. I am, too. But despite all the rage, all the pain, I love him."

"I know."

Harding looked at their reflections in the shallow water. She looked grumpy, tired, a smudge of soil on her cheek. Lady Scarlet still looked a bit too pale and tired, but it was clear Solas' presence had rejuvenated her.

"If we survive all this..." Harding vaguely gestured at the air to indicate that whole mess. "What are you going to do, Inquisitor?"

"You mean...?"

"With Solas, yes."

"Oh, it's easy!" She grinned, suddenly very cheerful. "Once I save him from himself, the marriage is back on!"

She said that with so much sincerity, with so much candor and innocence, Harding couldn't help but cackle, falling backwards on the floor.

The Inquisitor laughed, too, but Harding knew she was serious, that that was indeed what she was planning to do. Always so bright and hopeful, looking for the best in every situation - one of the many reasons why people had loved her as Inquisitor.

They heard a sound just outside the door, and Scarlet sighed fondly, shaking her head.

"Eavesdropping on us? Really?" Harding said, but she was not really angry, just resigned and even amused. That stupid man couldn't stay away from Lady Lavellan for more than ten minutes, now that they were finally together again, with no more secrets between them.

"I think I'll go to sleep. Goodnight, Harding."

"Goodnight, Inquisitor." Harding gave her a lopsided, impish smile. "Sweet dreams."

--------

Someone knocked at her door, and she already knew who it was.

"Solas."

Scarlet smiled at him. Part of her wanted to drag him into the room and finally, finally hug him and kiss him after all those years, but she didn't wish to scare him. She could see and feel he still loved her, just as she still loved him, but she wasn't sure he was finally ready to let himself go.

"Vhenan." His voice was soft, a whisper carrying all his love and guilt and pain and adoration. "I missed you."

She swallowed her tears, but they spilled from her eyes all the same.

"Oh, Solas." Her real hand trembled as she reached out to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, sighing happily, never breaking eye contact. "I missed you, too."

"I want..." He took a deep breath. "There are memories scattered around the Lighthouse and the Crossroads. Scenes from my past. I want you to see them, all of them."

Eyes wide, she could just stare at him, at a loss for words. He rested his hand upon hers, clearly determined, fully resolved to finally share everything with her, the good and the bad, Fen'Harel included.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness nor your love." His hand on hers trembled, and a tear ran down his cheek. "But I love you, vhenan. I always will. If the world truly is going to end, if we won't survive this, I wish to die by your side."

He smiled, that sweet smile he had for her only.

"But should we survive this second catastrophe, too, I wish to walk with you wheresoever you desire, to share everything with you, to live with you. Not as Fen'Harel, not as a god of rebellion, but as Solas." His lips quivered. "Your Solas."

She sobbed, a luminous smile on her face. She nodded and a "yes" had barely left her mouth, when he stepped forward and crashed his lips against hers, holding her tightly. He peppered her face with kisses, smiling as well, their laughter and giggles filling the corridor, before scooping her up into his arms and entering the bedroom, their hearts the lightest they had ever been, soaring with hope and love.

[outsidersheadcanons]

dally pony and johnny trio hc. please thats all i ask,, theyre my babygirls i love them </3

YESSS!! (i <3 their little friend group)

These three are such menaces when they're together (and it's ALWAYS Dally's fault smh). They've been kicked out of many restaurants, movie theaters, and stores. (modern) but Dally in particular isn't welcome in any of the Walmarts in Tulsa anymore.

Despite this they have their favorite places to get little treats. The three of them are the HUGE ice cream fans.

When they get ice cream they either get cones, floats, or one of those huge sundaes. if they get a sundae or smth they'll always split it. Dally lets Pony and Johnny eat it first to be nice (and they always end up eating like. 1/5 of it bc it's wayyy too sweet)

Even though Dally stopped going to school he always walks them home when he's around. He says it's to protect them from the socs, but Ponyboy and Johnny know it's just because he misses them (most of the gang's busy during the day, so Dally just. waits around a lot). He also likes hearing abt their days and what's happening at the school ofc.

Dally cares about Pony and Johnny A LOT. He sees them as his own little brothers :(

I said this before but Johnny and Ponyboy are so. gullible. And Dally takes advantage of this every day 😭 he tells them shit like the avg person swallows 100 spiders a year (and one time. he convinced them both that there was a serial killer who lived near the train tracks at the end of the neighborhood. He made up entire lore and everything and even took them to this old shed nearby where he supposedly "lived". Darry was PISSED at him when he found out (mostly because Ponyboy hadn't been able to sleep for a week))

[morganwrites12672]

1998 - Sixteen Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Gladys helps you sort through your feelings (and she meddles a bit). After that, Dean decides to stop by for a visit.

Word Count: 3.0k

Rating: PG-14

A/N: I really hope you guys are enjoying this series! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 (there's the link to the master list). But, this can be read as a stand alone.

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South Dakota was miserable during the summer. September seemed to be the hottest month, even if it was supposed to have started cooling down by now.

Sitting on Gladys's porch, a glass of sweet tea in hand, the two gossiped. Gladys seemed to know everything about everyone despite living further away. Gladys owned one of the few properties in this part of town. Everyone had many acres, and avoided each other.

Gladys had begun babysitting Bobby's daughter whenever the girl had been a mere baby. It hadn't taken the older woman long to figure out what Bobby's real job was. Surprisingly, she hadn't been that shocked. There had always been something off about Bobby Singer.

The older woman took another drink of her sweet tea before looking over at the girl sitting on the porch swing. It slowly rocked back and forth. She had noticed how the girls gaze drifted to the apple orchards.

She enjoyed watching the branches sway in the light breeze. She felt Gladys's eyes on her and turned her head.

"There's something on your mind sweetheart," Gladys said, she could tell exactly what it was too. Even if the younger girl didn't even know what it was she felt.

She shrugged, "It's about Dean."

"I can tell. What about him?" Gladys asked with a small smile. She could read the Singer girl like a damn book. The girl wore her heart on her sleeve.

"I don't even know!" She exclaimed, leaning back on the swing. She set her iced tea down. "He's making me nervous and it's really weird," She mumbled, a light blush coating her cheeks.

Gladys chuckled, "Oh, honey. That's called a crush."

Her cheeks turned scarlet. She quickly avoided Gladys's gaze. "I don't like Dean!" She insists, crossing her legs. Her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn't like Dean.

"Mmmhhh. Sure you don't," Gladys replied with a roll of her eyes.

She sighed, looking out to the orchard again. The apples were all red and crisp. Gladys had mentioned going out to pick some to make a pie soon. She had offered to help the older woman. It's not like she had anything better to do.

It felt like her father kept her under lock and key. He refuses to let her go on any hunts with him. He's taken her a handful of times, but she always gets forced to stay in the motel room. The one time she snuck out to help, she was grounded. Now she wasn't even allowed to stay at the motel rooms!

It wasn't like she could go into town to make friends like a normal kid. Her family was considered the towns outcasts. People gave her weird looks of she ventured into town. Eventually, she learned to keep her head down.

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Her father had been out of town for a couple of days. He was working a case on the other side of the state, down in Edgemont. So, she was left to answer the phones and help any hunters looking for lore.

She was sitting in her father's office, reading through book after book. The phones had been silent for a while. She was about to go see Gladys whenever the regular phone started ringing. She frowned as she walked across the room to the landline.

She picked up the phone and put it to her ear, "Singer residence. Who's calling?"

"You weren't answering your cell," said a deep voice.

A small smile formed on her face. She would recognize that voice anywhere. It has been a few weeks since the last time she had seen Dean. Both of them had been busy.

"It's up in my room. I've been busy in dads office," She replied. She had noticed the hunt of concern in his voice. It made her stomach flutter. Maybe Gladys had been right.

"I'm a few hours away from your house. We were passing through Edgemont and found your dad," Dean explained. "My dad's staying to help him wrap up the case. And, uh, Sammy wants to help too."

Dean would be coming to see her. Alone.

The thought made a light blush creep up on her neck and cheeks. She knew she was being a bit delusional though. There was no way in hell that Dean liked her back. She probably wasn't even his type.

He was older and more attractive. He might only be two years older but right now it felt like twenty years. Anxiety curled up in her gut. She wanted him to like her, even if that was unreasonable.

"You still there?" Dean asked her. She had been silent ever since he had told her that he was on his way.

"Uh, yeah! S-sorry," She replied quickly. "I guess I'll see you in a few hours." And with that, she slammed the phone back down on the receiver. She wiped her now sweaty palms on her jean shorts.

Could she have been anymore awkward?

She kept herself buried in books for the next few hours. If anything could ease her anxiety then more books could. It was comforting to read them. They all reminded her of her childhood. She thought back to whenever she had thought that the books were only stories.

A small part of her was thankful that her father had lied. Even if she had isolated and alone, she had gotten to be a kid. She hadn't grown up knowing that the monster under her bed was real.

As she was grabbing a new lore book from one of the piles next to the staircase, she heard a cars engine. She placed the book back in the pile before running to the window. A small formed on her face as she saw the Impala.

Dean had finally arrived. Every second that she had spent waiting on him had quite literally felt like an eternity. It wasn't often that she was able to have a friend. She told herself that's why she's excited to see Dean. She ignored Gladys's words from earlier.

She didn't have a crush on Dean. No, that was ridiculous. She wasn't someone Dean would choose. He probably had his pick of any girl he wanted. Why would he settle for her? She was weird as hell.

The second Dean knocked on the door she practically threw the door open. It had been a few weeks since the last time they had seen each other. She stepped back from the door so that Dean could step inside.

"How was the drive?" She asked, there wasn't anything better for her to say. Her mind has practically gone blank at this point.

Dean stepped into the house before shutting the front door behind him. He looked as handsome as ever. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach.

"It was fine," Dean replied casually. "Your dad still won't let you hunt with him?" He asked with an amused smirk.

He thought that part was ridiculous. He had seen her with a shotgun. She was a damn good shot. Bobby keeping her on lock down made no sense. His own father had let him help with hunting as soon as he was old enough to shoot straight.

"Still grounded," She replied sourly.

"You'll be eighteen before you know it," Dean pointed out.

Even though he had already turned eighteen he still followed John around. He probably would until Sam was old enough to go with him. He wouldn't leave his brother with his father. He refused. Sam needed him. He had barely been willing to leave his brother with their father to visit her. But, he had really wanted to see her. Alone.

She sighed. Only two more years.

The pair made small talk for a while. Dean told her about the recent hunts he had went on with his father and Sam. She told Dean about possible weaknesses for some monsters she had read about. He agreed to try a few, if he found a way to do it safely. John would be pissed if he got hurt doing something stupid.

After an hour, the landline began to ring. She frowned before walking over to answer it. It would either be her father or Gladys. She hoped it was her father. He always let too much time go inbetween phone calls. She knew how dangerous his job was. Sometimes it was nice to know that he was okay with more than a quick text or email.

She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. Before she had a chance to greet the caller, a familiar voice began speaking. Well, more of demanding.

"I saw that damn car go down the street whenever I was checking my mail," Gladys said quickly. "If you and that boy come pick some apples, I'll bake a pie."

Dean gave her a curios look, unable to hear the voice on the other end of the phone. He wondered if it was either John or Bobby. Maybe even Sam. He doubted his dad would bother to call unless the older man needed something.

"Sure thing Gladys," She said into the phone with a small smile. Apple picking was something she enjoyed. Growing up Gladys would send her into the orchard with a little wicker basket, and a promise of a fresh apple pie.

She said her goodbyes to the older woman before hanging up. Glancing out the window, she noticed that it was almost sunset. It should have cooled down some since she had been over at Gladys's.

"Um, that was the neighbor. Gladys," She began. "She asked if we could go pick some apples at her orchard. She said she'd make a pie if we did."

"Pie?" Dean replied with a smile. He would do anything for a good slice of pie. The thought of a slice of homemade pie made his mouth water.

She let out a small laugh at Dean's reaction. She had known he would agree. Dean had always loved pie. It hadn't taken her long to figure that one out.

Dean grabbed the keys to Baby out of his pocket and began walking towards the door. She hurried to grab her cellphone off the counter before running out the door after him.

"Can I drive?" She asked, almost teasingly.

"Over my dead body," Was Dean's quick reply as he opened the driver's side door.

She had expected that. Dean was very overprotective of the Impala. It had been worth a shot though. She had mainly done it just to mess with him. Plus, it would have been cool to drive the car. She had just gotten her license, she'd only driven on her own a handful of times.

It was safe to say that she wasn't the world's greatest driver.

She hurried to open the passenger door before climbing in. She then carefully shut the door. Dean started the car and began driving down the road. She leaned back in her seat. It was peaceful. The soft hum of Metallica was the only noise in the vehicle. Until she spoke.

"It's about two and a half miles down the street. You'll see her driveway," She said to Dean so that he would know where he was driving.

Dean nodded, but didn't give a verbal reply. Driving was the most relaxed she had ever seen Dean. It was definitely something she noticed.

After a couple of minutes, Gladys's driveway came into view. An old red mailbox made it stick out. Well, that and the collection of gnomes surrounding the mailbox.

It wasn't long before the Impala was parked a few feet away from the house. Gladys was waiting at the foot of the porch, an old wicker basket in her hands.

She opened the door before practically jumping out of the car. She walked over the to Gladys and grabbed the basket with a smile. Gladys gave a mischievous smirk before looking between Dean and her. Gladys raised an eyebrow.

"You must be Dean," The older woman said before shaking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am." Dean looked almost nervous under Gladys's gaze. He felt like every inch of his skin was being out under a microscope.

The older woman finally gave him an approving smile. "You two have fun in the orchard."

She began walking towards the apple trees. After a few yards, she felt Dean's presence. Looking over her shoulder she noticed that he was practically walking at her side.

The apple trees were all beginning to flourish. Juicy red apples weighed down the branches. But, she kept walking further into the orchard. The best apple trees were further out. Well, and her favorite one was further out.

It was the tree that she used to sit under and read sometimes. She had spent quite a bit of time out in the orchards growing up, and still did. She remembered whenever she was young and still clueless. Before a weight was placed on her shoulders.

She now knew what she would do whenever she grew up. It felt like she had no other option. She wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that people were being killed by super creatures. People she could save.

"What are you looking for?" Dean's voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned around a little bit so that she could face him.

"The best tree," She replied without missing a beat.

Dean let out a sigh but kept walking.

The air was much cooler than it had been whenever she had sat on Gladys's porch, drinking sweet tea. It was nice to have someone like Gladys to span with. The older woman have good advice.

A tree that was larger than the rest came into view. The apples on it's branches were a deep shade of red. They all looked crisp and juicy. She stopped walking a few feet from it and set the wicker basket down.

"This one."

She walks over to one of the low hanging branches and picked a bright red apple. She held it up, showing it off to Dean. He chuckled at the way she beamed. She was proud of the perfect apple she had picked.

"You're kind of cute right now," Dean said as he picked an apple before placing it in the basket. Realizing what he said, his nerves spiked.

She had a similar reaction. Her cheeks looked about as red as one of the apples now sitting in the basket. She stuttered for a reply and ultimately gave up. Butterflies weren't fluttering in her stomach, no. They felt like a swarm right now.

Dean looked at her with his signature smirk upon seeing her reaction. Oh.

She quickly went back to picking apples. Dean was too nervous to say anything about her reaction, or his admission. He had thought she was cute for a while. How could he not?

Sam had often pointed out how Dean seemed to stare at her. He couldn't help it. She was fucking perfect, and clueless about it. He had wanted her for a while. However, she was Bobby's daughter. The older man would probably shoot Dean for even thinking about his daughter.

The two spent a while in the orchard, picking apples in a comfortable silence.

As she was turning around to place another apple in the now almost full basket, she bumped into Dean. She would have fell if he hadn't wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

Their faces were mere inches apart. She stared at him with wide eyes and crimson cheeks. Neither one of them moved. They were stuck in this moment.

Until, Dean leaned in closer. His lips were hovering, barely even an inch away from hers. He couldn't keep his eyes off her lips. He brushed a piece of hair out of her face.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly.

Instead of replying, she pressed her lips to his. At least her first kiss would be nice. She wrapped her arms around Dean's neck and let her fingers gently tug on the hair at the nape of his neck.

Dean groaned into this kiss, his lips pulling away from hers for a second. He looked down at her. He admired her pink cheeks and wide eyes. It was obvious by her nerves that she hadn't done that before.

He knew a bit about her lack of a social life. He had overheard Bobby talking to his dad about it. The older man has been concerned about his daughters refusal to try and make friends. Dean thought that there was more to the story.

She pulled Dean closer again, kissing him. Their lips moved together in tandem. Dean pressed her against the apple tree behind them. As the kiss broke, she leaned her head back.

Dean's lips softly kissed her neck. He was careful not to leave any marks. Bobby would kill him if he came home and saw a hockey on her neck. Dean would be the obvious culprit, and a dead man walking.

His eyes did linger on the soft curves of her breasts. He was only able to see a little bit with her shirt on. He debated asking to take it off, but decided that that would be something he could save for later. Maybe for whenever he wasn't kissing her in the middle of an apple orchard.

She felt Dean's lips leave her skin. She looked back at him and his hand went to her hair as he kissed her again. She smiled into the kiss.

After a minute, she pulled away. "We should probably get the apples to Gladys. . ." She said. The older woman would know what had happened. It was obvious. Her hair was now a mess and so was Dean's. Not to mention how both of their cheeks were flushed.

Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah, yeah. We probably should." He leaned forward quickly and left a quick kiss on her lips before jogging towards the house.

She mumbled a curse before grabbing the basket of apples and running off after him.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Leave a reblog or comment if you enjoyed it. And lastly, thank you to @scott-is-now-online for helping me with some of the dialogue.

Taglist: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @lmhf1 @espressovz @illicithallways @tranquilitybasegrunge

Join the Tag List: Tag List 

[misc-obeyme]

Lesson 36 spoilers below, including the locked lesson & hard lesson...

Sorry it's a little screenshot heavy but there was a lot happening in this lesson and I was having a lot of feelings. I think I screenshotted my way through the whole thing lol.

SO. MUCH. LORE.

We got so much lore!??!?!

Things I'm freaking out about:

Mephisto's whole lecture about the underworld and its rings

the fact that trains were seen as commoner's transportation 'cause they were used by demons who couldn't fly

SOLOMON (as if he wasn't hot enough) walking through all the rings of the underworld

Solomon just kinda laughing about it and then agreeing that it's really just a tourist attraction now???? THAT'S THE UNDERWORLD YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT.

He talks about the city of Dis which is straight up from the Divine Comedy. Does this mean Dante has been their resource all along?! That could explain Diavolo's Italian name...

Because he also talks about Minos who also made an appearance in the Divine Comedy... I'm just sayin!!

They said they're taking Lucifer to Cocytus?!? (Which is also in... you guessed it, the Divine Comedy. Where it's stated to be the home of traitors.)

Isn't that the same thing as the River of Lamentation?!?!

What're they gonna do, drown him???

Okay okay my list should have ended several bullet points ago.

(Though on that last one, if they're going full Dante, then they'll bury him in ice instead.)

ANYWAY.

Mephisto buying all those sweets for his little brother was the cutest thing ever. He needs to stop being precious. I was resisting so well and then he had to go and be a good brother and also be concerned about MC and ask if they were all right and yeah he's annoying but it's kind of endearing too....????

This whole part where he was just asking MC questions & worrying about them being hurt. STOP THAT. This is exactly the kind of thing I live for, you're doing on purpose, aren't you??

You are not supposed to care!

I warned you before to stop making me like you...

THAT'S IT. HE'S A KEEPER.

Also do you think that when they say commoners are demons that can't fly... are they saying that demons with wings are the only ones that can be nobles? Or are they saying demons with enough power to fly whether that's with wings or not? Because isn't Barbatos actually like a duke or something? Are you really gonna tell me that guy is a commoner? Even if he does work as a butler... maybe it doesn't count 'cause he can portal himself around?

But also! We know Mephisto is a noble so does this mean his demon form has wings? I thought for sure they were going to go with a tail.

BUT ALSO ALSO do the bros not count? They should all be nobles, but they clearly aren't, but they also aren't commoners? Maybe they're neither 'cause they're fallen angels? And we know three of them have tails, so...? I'M CONFUSED ABOUT HOW THIS WORKS.

Okay, sorry I'm getting off on a bit of a tangent here. There's just so much info that we suddenly got in this lesson about the world! And while I've been wanting more such stuff, I was hoping it would clarify some things not make things more confusing.

So anyway, there's a whole lot of underworld which they've mentioned before but only briefly, so it was cool to get more info on that!

Don't worry, Luci. MC has to travel through time as well as space and I don't think a trip through the underworld is going to cut it. I like it when you compliment Solomon, though.

I don't know how to tell you guys that the idea of Solomon walking through the underworld and laughing about it later makes me insane. So I'm just telling you straight out. I'm insane about it.

Are we still talking about the underworld? Because when I hear "tourist attraction" I tend to think of things like the world's largest ball of twine, not playing chess with Minos, Judge of the Damned.

That whole phone conversation with him was just so good. I know I recently wrote a whole post about him being sus and he still is because it's him, but do not misunderstand me because I love that man. I love his cute little laugh that he always does.

Then again, he's clearly terrible at lying. Good at just not saying stuff maybe, but lying directly? I'm not so sure...

So anyway, Lucifer's gonna be executed, huh? I like how both he and Mephi were like nope Diavolo is gonna fix this. They have such unwavering faith in him, it's precious.

Also, I LOVED THIS ENTIRE PART.

Lucifer saying he knows? He knows, but this is home now for him and his brothers? And then MEPHISTO coming right back with then you should understand why MC wants to go home??

I was not expecting Mephistopheles to understand and be concerned about MC wanting to go home like that. It wasn't something like yeah you should go home you're a human and don't belong here. He didn't say anything like that at all. It was just immediately like you must miss your family. Mephisto confirmed family man!

HARD LESSON: Solomon was being a complete menace. He locked Lucifer's brothers in a room??? What's he gonna make them do!? Eat his cooking?? No, he gives his cooking to people because he loves them and wants to make them happy. So it can't be that. My mind... it goes to dangerous places... why did they have to cut off the lesson without telling us what Solomon's intentions were??

...

I wouldn't mind being locked in that room with them all, though.

Please take this selection of screenshots of him being insufferable with that cute lil smile on his face.

To be fair, he's not wrong... it was pretty funny.

I CAN'T.

Also in the LOCKED LESSON: Barbatos my true love. This whole interaction was amazing. Simeon and Luke are so cute. Diavolo clearly doesn't know Lucifer super well yet and it's so adorable watching him figure it out. And now he's all like Barbatos how can I fix this? And Barb is just like sorry it's too late. LOL he's so strict.

Dadbatos mode activated.

Luke my sweet baby angel, never change!

Diavolo's sad face is so cute, I don't know how Barb ever manages to resist it. I'd just give in to everything he ever wanted all the time. I also love how he is straight up calling Barb mean lol.

They both look so serious. Cut him some slack, Barb!

And lastly, I only wish to leave you with this:

Everybody knows nobody can make tea as good as Barbatos does. Not even Lucifer.

Don't be angry, Luci. You're no Barbatos, but I'm sure your tea is delicious.

[queenhunter102]

Part 7 (PART 6) (Part 8) Lore Page

You walk into the hall noting that everyone has vanished, ‘Guess they don’t get much free time’ you think as you head in a random direction, you have somehow managed to make it to the canteen, and you take a seat at an empty table unsure if anyone would welcome you openly.

As you got comfortable, your eyes lazily going over the crowd, your eyes meet the Alpha you had gotten into a fight with you sigh as you force your eyes to move not wanting him to take you as a threat, nor did you want him to believe that you wanted to go round two on kicking his ass.

“You know, for someone who came from NBOC you sure have shit instincts,” a voice says, making you jump, your head snapping to the end of the table where Simon sat, you roll your shoulders, trying to shift the tension in your shoulders.

“Not shit, just there are bigger threats than you,” you say, as your eyes flick to that pissy Alpha, you freeze when his eyes meet yours, and you shift them away, turning your head to Simon.

“That’s fair, you know that the Alpha you beat down, is walking over,” he says, as he casually pulls out his phone, you give him a panicked look before you forcibly relax your shoulders and turn to him smiling at him.

“You are hiding behind your Commanding Officers, little breeder,” the Alpha says, the fake smile on your face drops, as you disengage from the Alpha, refusing to acknowledge the slur.

“Can the little breeder, not take confrontation?” he says, your shoulders tense a little as you rub a spot on the table, you were used to this, you were used to Alpha’s seeing you as shit they scrapped off their shoe.

The Alpha laughed, turning his head to the table he had come from, “Guys come look at the little Beta-wanna-be” he said, goading you.

You crack your neck, refusing to let him win, you refuse to let get a rise out of you, you did not want to add to your disciplinarian.

You shivered when you heard a low growl come from behind you, “Really? Jenson, You’ve already been to Med-Bay once, do you want to make it Twice” a voice you recognised as Gaz came from the end of the table, you looked up at him smiling at him. “Oh, come on Gaz, they’re an Omega, their breeding holes nothing more” The Alpha you can now identify as Jenson, a shadow grow over Jenson, “Watch how you talk to our new member, you’ve been warned once, by them and twice by Gaz, do you want to make it a third” Simon said, Jenson glared at you his eyes practically laser-like, as he shakes his head “No sir”, you turn your head pretending to rub your nose, hiding your smile.

Jenson, growled as he walked away humiliated for a second time today.

“Man, we cannot leave you alone” Gaz said, as he settled down beside you a tray of food, in front of him, he offered you a fruit stick.

“You want one? I know Omegas have cravings for things all the time” you nod your head as you take the offered fruit stick.

“Yeah, I tend to crave Ice-lollies more than anything, specifically Fabs” Gaz nods his head.

“I’ll let provisions know,” Simon said, as he walked away from the table, “Is just me or is he suspicious” you say as you take a bite out the fruit stick, Gaz snorted beside you trying not to choke on the fruit, “Shit don’t say that around Johnny”

[pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid]

what are some of your Octavian head cannons?

Hi glassssssss :D🌸

I have quite a few lol. I will resist only writing the crack ones. That deserves a post of it’s own lmao

He’s Korean Italian.

He can speak over five languages. Italian, Korean, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Latin, bits of Japanese.

His birthday is on the 8th of August. Hence his name.

Octavian is not his actual birth name. It is a second name given to him by the head of the family as per their tradition.

Only child (this I consider self projection, cuz I’m an only child and I dunno how to write siblings so fuck it) has a lot of cousins tho.

His mother is mortal, and is quite a famous model. But they are rather estranged.

He’s a daddy’s boy. Extremely close to his dad. His dad calls him August (only he can call tav that)

He’s Bi/Ace. But thinks exploring that aspect of himself is a waste of time.

Octavian has loose curly hair but he straightened it. He also bleaches his hair from time to time. His hair is very damaged.

When tav first came to camp he didn’t know English well so Micheal (who ho knew a bit of Spanish) helped him. They primarily speak Spanish with each other.

Octavian and Micheal actually arrived only three days apart. So they were assigned together. Which sort of was the start of their friendship.

Octavian was only 14 when he was assigned as camp Augur. And right after that he was assigned as Jason’s caretaker.

When Reyna first arrived he took her under his wing, primarily because of her abilities.

The three became quite close. Octavian genuinely loved his two siblings. Sadly that’s only because he thought lowly of them. So when they both were appointed Praetors, something in Octavian snapped and they were never the same again

He’s a bird dad. He has three birds at home. Sadly he couldn’t bring any of them with him to Camp.

He is also a legacy of Victoria.

Performing Auguries has left him with dry and strained eyes as he’s staring into the fluff for several minutes at a time.

The after effects of every augury reading and prophetic vision often takes a huge toll on him. Causing nosebleeds, nausea, migraines, fainting episodes.

He very occasionally sleep walks. It’s a camp inside joke that carrying him back to his room brings good luck and has become a sort of tradition. Octavian has no clue of it.

Everyone thinks he can glow. He can’t he’s just very pale.

The only time he actually does glow is when he’s getting prophetic visions.

Primarily his eyes glow. And also the prophecy itself that etches on his skin which leaves marks after the visions end. It’s a bit painful and itches a lot but they tend to fade after a few minutes.

The first time he went to karaoke with his friends he sang for ten hours straight. And he was perfectly fine, no vocal cords damage no nothing.

Octavian’s biggest insecurity is not having enough traits related to Apollo. But he constantly ignores and undermines the ones he has. He also has the most negative Apollo traits out of anyone.

He curses like a sailor, but the catch is that he curses in every language except English.

Octavian was forced to play the piano as a kid. He actually wanted to learn the drums but never could.

Octavian has a tattoo of the Camp logo. Left of his stomach. He got it at 16 thinking it would be so cool. He regretted it soon after.

He has a very high spice tolerance. Shocking but it’s very funny.

Was an ice hockey player but he quit so he could focus on his plan to become Praetor.

(This is a sort of inside joke HC) He plays COD, a lot. Die hard fan. Has posters and stuff. Micheal was the one who introduced him to the game. Totally has a secret art account where he posts his soapghost fanart PFFT AH-/jjjj lmao

Probably has like two boxes worth of yaoi manga hidden under the floorboards of his bed/jjjjj PFFFFT

I think I should stop here cuz like I have so much lore for this guy and the hcs are so specific😭😭 we’ll be here for days bro lmao 😭😭

[quitealotofsodapop]

This was in my notes for a long time

MK glanced up at the ringing of the bell. The food truck was bustling, full of people all over the city looking to enjoy Pigsy's Noodles during their New Years while they await the parade. At the sight of the partially glamoured face of a ginger haired person with a heart-shaped birthmark around his eyes wearing an orange hoodie and maroon pants, he felt his face pale considerably. Especially as the very obviously glamoured demon was accompanied by four seemingly human children, having apparently put more effort into their glamours than his own. A quick flash of Gold Vision confirmed MK's suspicions. His mom and siblings.

"Oh boy..." He groaned, glaring at the snickering of one of the twins. They pointed at their headphones and stuck their tongue out before bringing their attention back to their sibling. Right, lotus ears. There's no verbally spoken secret within a mile that can be kept from the twins simply because one of then was born with their father's ears. Before MK could return the rude gesture he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, startling him.

"What's up, monkey man?" Mei was grinning, "You look like your mom jsut walked in on you or something!"

"That's because he did." MK groaned, pointing to the group, "He brought my siblings too."

"Oooh, tough. I'm totally gonna record the entire thing, it's bound to be good blackmail."

MK rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to the front where his mom was watching the whole interaction with amused golden eyes.

"Mom! What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Can't a fella come to his son's workplace on the holiday?" Wukong joked, instinctively reaching out to stop Luzhen from grabbing at Yuebei's hidden tail, "With the New Years I thought it'd be a good idea to bring your siblings down to the parade for a better view. We're jsut stopping by fir seem food before we go down to the festival."

"Well you came to the right place! What can I do ya for?" Pigsy grunted as not too gently pushed MK aside for some room. For a moment the glamoured monkey demon was frozen at the unexpected resemblance before shaking himself a bit,

"Oh, uh... something vegetarian please. Make sure mine is cooled."

"Cooled?" Pigsy raised a brow as he glanced at MK, a cooled bown the noodles is rarely something people want.

"Mom had an accident when he was younger that makes it difficult for him to eat hot foods." MK explained, writing the order down for his boss. The pig shrugged, muttering something about ice as he began the order. MK returned his focus to his family as they chatted, Wukong quite forcefully demanding a hug from him.

What MK didn't realize was the conversation going on behind him.

"So that's very obviously a glamoured demon." Tang was pointing out as they watched the family interact, "So our theory is looking more and more true."

"Yeah, kid's a demon. Or the least his mom is. Poor guy." Pigsy said in return, "Still that isn't a good glamour."

"I've seen glamours before." Sandy chimed in, "I don't think it's because he's bad at it, just look at his kids! He's probably jsut putting all his energy into keeping his kids' glamours up."

Ref.

Oh gosh poor MK getting mega-embarrassed by his mom and siblings XD

I love the detail of the Eclipse Twin with the lotus ears teasing MK before they even get there. No secret is safe from the twins; one hears all and they both share everything.

I love Wukong being so focused on his kids glamours that he barely has enough magic left over for his own. And ofc Luzhen trying to grab Yuebei's invisible tail - cus where did it go? XD

I love hcs of Wukong not enjoying hot food cus of his lore. Him like his noodles lukewarm at best.

And the noodle gang cofirming their suspicions that MK is def a glamoured demon (or at least half-demon). Imagine the shock they'll get when they learn exactly who MK's mom is! XD

[boct-kimerakal]

just normal girl things

an offering. more signalis oc content. a tentative offering.. i’ve increased my discoverability a smidge but this may prove to be a terrible mistake and wind up revoked so! enjoy it while it lasts..

just kidding, it’s a massive lore dump too! what? you think you’re going to catch me off brand?

hallo, so if you’ve seen my introduction to pondwater post, you should know who these two are (if you haven’t, it should be in the tag) but TLDR: an LSTR unit walks into leng, the punchline? there’s another LSTR unit there already. they each have smidges of 512’s memory, pike (red) more than wasserjungfer (heavy combat frame)

this is a really bad doodle but it’s more so to preface the lore dump than anything! speaking of:

we’re focusing on pike this time. i figure she was manufactured before the penrose initiative and was used in a team, maybe on rotfront to survey the empire-era bioresonance-altered terrain for nation infrastructure expansion. kind of odd, i’m not sure yet - either way, her start easily conditions her into the shared unit identity. they named her ‘pike,’ so as to not be confused with another on-site LSTR! but left her to her own devices. as the unit ages, but is still operational, she’s shipped off to solo-man an isolated inspections / maintenance post. better than an ARAR, since it’s a military posting. she relishes the solitude, like a lighthouse keeper. simply an LSTR.

so it’s easy when 512 gets blended into her brain.

now, when she meets wasserjungfer, things change. as they fumble through sierpinski, with this imperfect mirror right beside her, she realises she’s nothing like wasserjungfer. or, rather, wasserjungfer doesn’t seem very much like an LSTR. (but also! so much like an LSTR! then why are they so little alike?) talking to wasserjungfer makes her separate herself more from her, then, more from 512. as she rejects the 512 elster neural pattern, things get weird - it comes and goes in waves.

all the while wasserjungfer yells at her to keep her grip on herself. pike. she can’t let her identity be erased in the wake of someone’s grief! she’s not 512! forget the nation, they aren’t just interchangeable. (ha! simple thoughts that’ll get you decommissioned, doesn’t matter now since they’re both doomed to die)

and yet, and yet, and yet..

pike has moments where she sees wasserjungfer and pukes oxidant. because she looks just like her (512) and if that LSTR’s here for ariane, then she can’t be 512. so what is she? what is standing here, bleeding? (pike, it’s your name, pike)

pike dreams of the “lighthouse” (an idea! not so much a real place) and an ocean she’s never seen, where all this identity stuff didn’t matter because she was The Only One There.

pike, becoming attached to her protege and her goals, this version of herself that stands a chance, has to convince herself she isn’t wasserjungfer (or, well, 4 to her since she refuses to tell her her name) too.

pike has to close her eyes to remember who she is based on what she is feeling in the exact moment because how else can she know? when everything she sees around her can’t be trusted? when 512 looked just like her? when her memories aren’t her own?

and on wasserjungfer’s side... her resolute “i won’t be changed, i have one goal” mentality! and how it turns against her.

as pike pushes away from 512’s identity, wasserjungfer, funnily enough, in all her ice-cold determination, gets pulled further into the thrall. having experienced a devotion enough to parallel 512’s - lian (who else but her lover, now) and ariane blend together in her head. the more she wants to get back to lian, the two kids they found - the deeper she sinks into being 512

eventually, that makes the environment.. take notice - there can’t be two 512s. so it targets the reject, pike. wounds don’t heal as easy, the corrupted hit harder. pike is pretty much playing on survival while wasserjungfer gets off easy. too busy - pike never once realises that wasserjungfer is breaking under the thrall. even when she finally succumbs to a corrupted horde, she saves wasserjungfer’s life, holding (gripping, really) onto a scrap of belief she can break the cycle. but at least she dies with a name! pike, and she dies realising pike lived.

though.. so desperately she craves dancing with someone she never met. whoops! sorry girl, thought you could die totally yourself? at least now she’s dead, she doesn’t have to keep fighting to keep herself her self. right?

i shake them around like little salt-and-pepper shakers. sprinkling insanity onto my breakfast. onto yours too if you read this. i’m workshopping them forever, they aren’t perfect ... not yet, maybe never .. but i like them a lot.

anyways, fun archive word dump! i’ll need this for later. probably should put the water-themed one on here too for safekeeping

[ak-vintage]

Quarry - Chapter 16

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.

Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

Set after Chapter 13: The Jedi but before Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

Chapter Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Reader is Mando's live-in starship engineer, dual POV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, angst, Mandalorian culture lore dump, religious issues, Din speaks Mando'a, brief sexual fantasies (this one is mostly clean, y'all)

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

“Is it just me, or has that port doubled in size since we were here last?”

The question came from your favorite copilot’s chair, breaking the pensive silence that had descended over the cockpit as Din maneuvered the Razor Crest through the Nevarran atmosphere. He glanced over his shoulder in acknowledgement only to see you staring out the viewport with a little frown gathering between your brows. Nestled snug and safe in your lap, Grogu offered him a toothy smile, which Din returned, unseen behind his helmet.

“Think you’re right. Karga’s been busy,” he replied, taking in the sprawling landing zones, the increased foot traffic, the dozen or so other ships docked below. “Is there anything you want to pick up while we’re here?”

After the disastrous hunt for the Weequay smuggler Kevok Teklolq, only one bounty from the selection Karga had assigned to him had remained. The three of you had taken an extra day on the shores of Maramere to recover – you and Din from your wounds obtained in the fight, Grogu from his overextension of the Force to heal your ruined shoulder. In that time, the bounty hunter had taken the liberty of recovering evidence of Teklolq’s death from the dense forest where he had been slain, namely by separating his scaly head from his body and wrapping it in a scrap of tarp you found for him in the ship’s storage. You had nearly retched when he returned with it slung over his shoulder only to tuck it safely into the chiller for preservation.

“Please tell me the next one is someone you can bring in alive,” you had begged, looking ashen, to which Din had offered you a gentle press of his forehead against yours and agreed.

Thankfully, the final bounty had been simple – a Corellian merchant accused of tax evasion who had surrendered almost immediately upon discovering who exactly was pursuing him. The hunt was nearly over before it began, leaving Din feeling a bit underwhelmed and questioning whether the effort had been worth it.

He had fucked you against the doors to his weapons cabinet after, needing an outlet for all of the pent-up energy of the hunt that now had nowhere to go. He didn’t think you minded. You had walked unsteadily for the rest of that afternoon, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, a secret smile on your lips whenever he looked your way.

Now, with all five tracking fobs dormant in his pocket, four carbonite slabs hanging on the cargo hold rack, and one severed head on ice, every excuse the Mandalorian could conjure that might have kept the three of you safe and insulated in the little bubble you had created in the depths of hyperspace had run dry.

It was time to hand over the quarries. And it was finally time to take Grogu to Tython.

From your perch in the copilot’s chair, you seemed to mull over his question, humming quietly to yourself. “No, I don’t think so,” you said, considering. “You know what I would like, though? A hot meal. Like, something cooked with fresh ingredients and then served immediately, not heated up in a ration pack.”

Din chuckled, the sound staticky and rasping through his vocal modulator. He couldn’t blame you. The Razor Crest’s supply of fresh food had run out almost two weeks ago, and all the best self-heating rations had been well picked over by all three of her passengers, leaving only the least appealing options and the ones that were intended to be eaten cold, only barely a step up from the dreaded nutrition bars you could hardly stomach.

“I think we can make that happen,” he agreed.

You offered him a relieved smile in thanks. “How long do you think we’ll stay?”

The bounty hunter cocked his helmet in a gesture reminiscent of a shrug. “It will be at least a week’s journey from here to Tython, and we’ll be traveling into the Deep Core, which means we won’t be able to stop to do a supply run. The further we go into the interior, the more attention the Razor Crest attracts.”

“Maybe we could stay a couple of days then? Get a room at an inn, stock up on food and medical supplies? I wouldn’t say no to a real bed for once, and it’s been ages since Grogu got to spend any time outside. Might be good for him, if we’re going to be in hyperspace for more than a week.”

Din smirked, glancing back at you. “A real bed, hmm?”

You grinned wryly, a flush burning high on your cheeks, eyes flashing teasingly. “Yeah, you know. For sleep.” You drew your plush lower lip between your teeth. “Really, really good sleep.”

A low noise, unbidden, rose in his chest, and he gritted his jaw against reply that wanted to spill forth, one that definitely was not suited to the innocent, bat-wing ears of the boy cradled in your lap. Settling for a…heavily censored version, he growled, “Trouble.”

Your grin widened, blooming into a delighted smile that crinkled the corners of your eyes, and the sight made the bounty hunter’s chest tighten with affection. “Oh, you live for trouble, Din Djarin,” you teased good-naturedly.

He thought you might be right.

---

As you entered the polished, echoing lobby of the Nevarro Municipal Center, your worn, brown satchel strung across your body and Grogu cheerfully strapped to your back, it felt impossible to keep yourself from comparing the experience to the last time you had entered these halls. Had it really only been a handful of weeks ago that Din had led you here, binder cuffs chafing your wrists, your jumpsuit ragged and stained, a pit in your stomach the size of a sarlacc’s den as you contemplated a future back on Chardaan? It felt as though a lifetime had passed since then.

You were an entirely different person now, both outside and in. Clean and well-fed, with a job that had given you more engaging and unique experiences than you had ever had confined to the sterile spheres of the shipyards, a life filled with purpose, satisfaction, and love.

Maker. Love.

It had completely consumed you. You were overflowing with it, your heart pressing, fighting against the barrier of your ribcage, threatening to spill out and overtake you in its joy. The boy peaking up over your shoulder from his perch in his carrier, cooing and babbling in your ear, pressing his warm little body to yours. The hulking man in beskar, bandolier straining across his broad chest, blaster at his hip, wide palm at the base of your spine, guiding you through the entryway with a touch far gentler than his intimidating appearance would imply. You loved them both, in a way that was both liberating and terrifying. But still, their soft, solid presence as you made your way across the marble floor toward the oversized reception desk eased your nerves at being back in this place. They made you calm and confident, and that, in turn, made the memories of arriving here a slave feel more distant, less heavy.

“Here to see Greef Karga,” Din snapped, interjecting before the familiar bronze protocol droid currently manning the reception desk could greet you.

The TC unit drew back in something like surprise at the bounty hunter’s gruff, informal tone. “My apologies, sir, but the High Magistrate’s calendar is fully booked for the balance of the afternoon.” Glancing down at the datapad mounted to the desk, it continued, “I would be happy to make you an appointment for the end of the week if you would like – ”

The droid cut itself off abruptly, looking back up at Din as though having a sudden realization. Its mechanical neck and shoulders whirred as it quickly scanned the bounty hunter from head to toe then did the same to you.

“Oh. It’s you.” If it were possible for a droid to sound contemptuous, this one did. You bit back a smile, pressing your lips together to hold back a snicker. Apparently the two of you had made an impression during your last visit.

“It’s me.”

You lost the battle with your laughter at Din’s utterly deadpan response. A choked giggle escaped your throat, echoing through the cavernous, marble-paved entryway, and with embarrassment flaring in your cheeks, you forced yourself to turn away for fear that more would follow.

Cool and posh as ever, the protocol droid continued, “I don’t imagine you are interested in making an appointment?”

“That’s right.”

The TC once more glanced from Din to you and then back again. “…One moment, sir.” Tapping through several layers of command menus on the desk’s datapad, you watched as it brought the built-in comm link crackling to life. “Pardon me, High Magistrate, if I may interrupt.”

A moment of silence passed, tense between the droid’s displeasure and Din’s complete impassiveness, and then Karga’s voice, deep and commanding and clearly aggravated, floated through the open channel. “What is it?”

“You have visitors here to see you, sir. That…rather insistent Mandalorian fellow and two companions.”

On the other end of the comm link, the older man’s attitude seemed to soften almost immediately. A booming chuckle made its way across the connection, and Karga readily replied, “Send them up, 48.”

You were certain that if it had been capable, the protocol droid would have sighed. “Yes, High Magistrate.” As the comm link fell silent, the TC unit redirected its attention back to the three of you. “Would you like an escort, sir?”

“That won’t be necessary. I remember the way.”

And without another word, Din steered you away from the reception desk and down the hall.

“Thank you!” you called over your shoulder, more laughter leaking its way into your voice as your bounty hunter swiftly and confidently swept you around the corner. Glancing up at his expressionless visor, you added, “Are you always that rude to droids?”

Din shrugged, one pauldron gleaming in the golden afternoon light that streamed through the tall windows lining the empty hallway. “Not all of them. Just the ones that get in my way. Which is most of them,” he confessed. “That one in particular is…pompous.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re not wrong.”

“What’s so funny?” You could feel his fingers slip from their rather neutral position against your lower back, wrapping around your waist and squeezing teasingly. You swore you could feel your heart stutter in your chest at the unexpected contact. Was Din being…playful? The long-suffering, stoic, beskar-clad warrior…flirting? Dank farrik, as if you could love him more.

“Nothing!” you insisted, the poorly concealed grin tugging at the corners of your lips belying your words. “You’re just cute when you’re grumpy.”

Din very pointedly did not dignify that assertion with a response.

A handful of turns and a brief flight of stairs later, and Karga’s glass-walled office appeared before you. You tried not to feel too disappointed when the bounty hunter’s hand dropped from its hold on the dip of your waist, though you thought you might have failed at that when you felt Grogu offer you a gentle, consolatory pat on the shoulder from his carrier. The gesture had your mouth curling up again almost immediately, and you reached behind you leave a fond scritch behind one of the little guy’s massive ears.

As you had come to expect, Greef Karga’s welcome was warm and enthusiastic when Din shouldered open the double doors. “Ah! Mando!” he exclaimed, rising from his seat in his oversized desk chair, thick arms wide as though to embrace you from afar. “Welcome back!”

The bounty hunter inclined his helmet at the magistrate and crossed the stretch of the office floor in a handful of long strides. “It’s good to be back,” he replied, more earnest than you had expected. Glancing down at one of the chairs settled across from Karga’s desk, you watched as he realized that his guild agent was not alone in the room. With a note of pleasant surprise, he added, “Marshal Dune.”

The chair spun around, allowing you to see its occupant for the first time, and you felt yourself hesitate in the doorway as a striking woman with jet-black hair, blue-painted pauldrons, and a tiny Rebellion tattoo on her cheek rose to her feet. Offering Din a half-smile, she clasped his forearm in greeting – like a fellow warrior. “It’s been too long. Always nice to see you in one piece,” she said, her voice low and warm. Her dark eyes met yours then, and she cocked her head in your direction. “New friend?” she asked with interest.

The Mandalorian seemed to hesitate for a moment before replying, “Relatively new.”

You took that as your cue to step forward. Closing the distance between you, you extended your hand for the woman to shake, offering her your name.

“Cara Dune,” she replied, the grip of her gloved hand firm and unwavering around yours. You noticed she had a strip of grooved armor molded to the backs of her knuckles, and a jolt of intimidation shot through you at the sight. This woman had brass knuckles built into her uniform – painted blue to match her pauldrons.

“We were in a bit of a hurry the last time we were in the area,” Din continued, oblivious to your unease. “Didn’t exactly have the chance to stop by and say hello.”

The woman – Marshal Dune – grinned wryly at that. “Of course. When aren’t you jetting off on some new quest?”

Karga chuckled low in his chest. “I assume you’re here on business, Mando?” he prompted.

At that, the bounty hunter reached into one of the many pockets of his utility belt and drew out an overflowing handful of dormant tracking fobs, laying them out in a jumbled pile on the magistrate’s desk. “The five remaining bounties – present and accounted for. Your crew is unloading them now.”

The older man quirked a pointed eyebrow at the sight. “All in carbonite this time, hm?” The marshal glanced, bemused, between Karga to the Mandalorian, clearly not understanding the implication, and you pressed your lips together to smother an embarrassed grin.

For his part, Din appeared nonplussed. “All but one,” he agreed readily.

“Mando…” Karga groaned, drawing the name out with something like exasperation.

“The fifth one is dead. I have proof of the kill. It’s on ice.”

Cara Dune snorted, crossing her bare, muscular arms over her chest. “Charming.”

Karga rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. “Very well.” Extending a hand toward Din, he beckoned him forward, encouraging him around to the other side of the desk. “Come, let’s get your compensation squared away, and you can tell me all about your plans now that you’ve run my supply of bounties dry.”

You thought the guild agent might have glanced at you with interest as he spoke, but you couldn’t swear to it.

“So,” Cara said pointedly, a single eyebrow raised.

Now, she definitely was looking at you.

“How did you meet our favorite tin can?” she asked with a smirk.

You opened your mouth to reply but then hesitated, uncertain of her reaction if you were to tell her the truth. Would it make her suspicious of you? Would it make her angry with Din? She was the marshal, after all. But the two seemed to be friends, and you recalled weeks ago, when you had been attempting to determine where you would go after he had freed you, that he had offered to put you in contact with the marshal on Nevarro – that she was a friend and that she would help you find a safe place to live. He wouldn’t have offered that if he didn’t trust her.

“I…was a quarry,” you admitted haltingly.

You realized then that you desperately wanted this woman, who Din clearly respected and saw as an equal, to like you, and you cursed the weakness in your voice, your hesitance.

Cara, however, seemed completely unbothered. “Damn,” she laughed. “He really is getting soft in his old age. Once with the kid, that was an anomaly. But twice? You must have really left an impression.”

You felt your cheeks warm at her ribbing tone, heavy with implication. Attempting to brush it off, you simply replied, “Mando is…kinder than he looks.”

At that, the other woman’s smile softened, becoming more genuine and less needling. “Oh, I know it. Chivalrous to a fault. He’s a tough nut to crack, but he’s a good man.” With a fond brusqueness, she reached out and chuffed Grogu on top of his downy head, eliciting a giggle from the boy. “He takes care of his people.”

Something in your chest warmed and softened, and you offered her a small, genuine smile in return. “Yeah, he does.”

“You two planning to stick around for a while?”

You nodded. “A couple days, I think. Mando’s promised me a hot meal before we start another stretch in hyperspace.” Grogu cooed in agreement, making the characteristic smacking noises with his mouth that you had come to understand indicated hunger.

“I hear that,” Cara scoffed with laughter. “Space food gets old pretty quick. You know, I’m about to clock out for the night. Why don’t I take you to Ninda’s? It’s a newer place, just opened a month or two ago, but they make the best smapp pot pies I’ve ever had in the Outer Rim, and it’s not overcrowded, so maybe the big guy will actually let his guard down for once and enjoy himself.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose – ”

She shook her head, waving away your protest. “Not at all. I’d appreciate the company. And you two can fill me in on what’s been going on outside Nevarro space.”

There was something almost longing about the way she said it, as though a part of her was mourning her tether to the planet, to her position. “Have you been here long?” you asked, intrigued.

“Almost two years now.” Leaning back on the desk behind her, she braced her palms against the edge of it, crossing one leg over the other casually. “It’s stable. Relatively safe. Karga’s a fair leader, and the work is good. But staying in one place this long… Guess I’m still getting used to it.”

You nodded your understanding, revealing, “I’m the opposite. I was only ever in one place my entire life. Until…very recently.”

“Which do you prefer? Now that you’ve done both,” she asked.

“Hm.” You propped your own hip against the desk, mulling it over. You had never really considered it before. You appreciated the worldliness that being a part of Din’s crew had gifted you. You enjoyed getting to experience other planets, other species, other cultures. Your day spent in the bazaar on Trevi IV forever would be one of your most treasured memories – the wonder and the joy of getting to immerse yourself in a new place was something that you would carry with you for the rest of your life.

But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that perhaps it wasn’t the new planets or the new cultures that you found most rewarding. Perhaps it was the fact that you had gotten to have those experiences side-by-side with Din.

“Truthfully,” you admitted, “I think I could be happy anywhere. As long as – ”

“As long as you’re with him?” Cara interjected, a smile on her face. “That’s what I thought.”

You looked away, suddenly deeply interested in the pattern of scuffs on the toe of your boot, the other woman’s immediate perception more than you could bear. “Is it that obvious?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not to everyone. But I know what it looks like when he’s found someone he wants to protect.”

Your eyes met hers again, and you felt an understanding settle between the two of you. Whatever it was she could discern of your relationship with Din from the outside, it was clear she approved of it, and your relief at that was almost tangible.

Before you could respond, however, the bounty hunter in question approached, tucking several weighty bags of credits into his belt as he did.

“Karga has offered to put us up for the night,” he said, brushing his leather-clad knuckles against your elbow as though to get your attention. You flushed at the casual touch, feeling Cara’s sharp gaze following his every move. “I’d like to go pick up the keys to the room, but then we can get dinner. What are you in the mood for, cyare?”

You felt yourself melt just that little bit more at the consideration, knowing that all of your softness for him was written all over your face as you replied, “Actually, Marshal Dune has offered to take us to…Nina’s?” You glanced over to her for confirmation.

“Ninda’s,” she corrected. Her grin was smug, her arms folded across her chest once again as she assessed the two of you.

“Ninda’s.”

The Mandalorian seemed to consider the offer for a moment before nodding once. “That’s very generous, Marshal. All right, if that’s what you want to do, we’ll go there.”

Grogu released a squeal of happiness directly into your ear at that moment, and you winced even as you joined the others in laughing in response. With any luck, this evening wouldn’t prove to be too awkward.

---

“Your girl’s a sweetheart.”

Din Djarin pulled his gaze from where it had naturally settled – watching you as you ambled along behind Grogu several yards from where he and Cara Dune still sat. Dinner at the cantina the marshal had recommended had been a pleasant affair (he was looking forward to enjoying his pot pie in the anonymity of their room at the inn later), but the kid had started to get restless as the adults at the table seemed perfectly content to continue catching up well into the evening. You had taken pity on him, in tune with his needs as you were, and had offered to take him out onto the open-air patio to explore. Din, of course, hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from following your every move from the moment you stood up from the table, and Dune had, of course, noticed.

Refocusing his attention, the bounty hunter took in the amused look flashing in her dark eyes. She leaned heavily against the back of her chair, her second mug of ale cupped casually in her hand as she assessed him.

“She is,” he agreed easily. It was completely unsurprising to him that Dune had taken a liking to you. You were easy to like – sweet, kind, shockingly intelligent. He had known that the two of you would get along. Running into Dune at Karga’s office had simply saved him a trip to the law enforcement office to introduce you.

“So how long has this been going on?”

Din weighed his words for a beat before responding. “It’s…new. Very new.”

It had only been a handful of days since Maramere, though already being with you felt as natural as breathing. He wasn’t certain whether that was because he had been carrying a torch for you for so many months, or if it was simply a testament to your compatibility, but either way, in just a few short days, you had managed to bind yourself irreversibly to his heart, like you had always been there.

As though she had been reading his mind, the marshal replied, “Hm. Could have fooled me. The way you two are together, it’s…easy. Doesn’t feel new.”

The bounty hunter grinned behind his helmet, certain the expression could be heard in his voice. “I know.”

“So is she it for you?” Dune nudged his shoulder with hers, knocking against his pauldron as she downed the rest of her ale. “Finally gonna settle down, take your kid and your girl, find a piece of land someplace and just…live?”

At that, the Mandalorian felt himself hesitate, and in that silent moment, he could see the possibilities stretched out before him as clearly as if he were standing there now. A little house at sunset, cast in warm, golden light, modest in size but more than enough for his clan of three. You on the front porch, reclined in a wicker chair, your hair loose and long around your shoulders, cheeks flushed from the sun. Grogu giggling on your lap.

His Mudhorn signet on a pendant around your neck. Your belly soft and round with his ad.

Din banished the vision as soon as it had appeared, shoving the acute sense of longing that squeezed his ribcage deep inside himself. “…I want to,” he rasped, his voice tight. “But I can’t. Not yet.”

The marshal arched a brow at that. “What’s stopping you?”

“I need to get Grogu to a Jedi.”

“Okay, sure.” She waved her empty mug dismissively, clearly unimpressed with the response. “So you find a Jedi, you take the kid to them, then what?”

Then what?

The bounty hunter had been asking himself that question endlessly over the last few days. It had been a question before, of course, but after what had transpired on the shores of Maramere, the consequences of that question had grown even heavier, even more complex. There was a time when he had assumed that once Grogu was no longer in the picture, you would leave the Razor Crest – that you would ask him to drop you off at some shipbuilding hub like Corellia or Eriadu, somewhere that you could put your considerable skillset to good use now that there wasn’t a tiny green toddler in need of a babysitter. Then, he had determined that he would simply go back to bounty hunting. Perhaps Karga would be kind enough to put him in touch with one of his colleagues at the Guild, someone in need of hunters of his caliber who might actually have a sufficient stream of work for him.

It would be a lonely existence, going from caring for two other beings to being on his own once more, and Din didn’t relish the thought, but he would survive. He had done so for years before Grogu came into his life; he could do it again.

Now, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that when Grogu was gone, you would remain. He knew you well enough to know that you would not willingly choose to be separated from him now, not after the things that you had confessed to him, bare and impossibly close in the cramped quarters of his bunk. And he certainly did not want you to leave.

But the warm bubble of newfound intimacy had burst the moment the Crest had landed on Nevarro, and as much as he cursed himself for it, he could not seem to quiet the doubts hovering ever-present at the back of his mind.

Eventually, he replied, “Then…I don’t know.”

Unfortunately, such an ambiguous answer was unacceptable to Cara Dune. Decisive, quick-to-action, fiery Cara Dune. Rolling her eyes at him, she sat up straighter in her chair, slamming her mug onto the table in a gesture that had several other cantina patrons glancing her way in concern. “Do you love her?” she demanded.

Din sighed, steeling himself for the unpleasant conversation now looming on the horizon. “Yes.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“I’m not getting into this now,” he said stiffly, his jaw tight.

Dune groaned dramatically and leaned toward him. “Din. Look at me.”

The bounty hunter startled at the use of his name, and he obeyed on instinct, meeting her flinty eyes through his visor. Although she had learned his name during their run-in with Moff Gideon over a year ago, she had never used it before now, choosing to continue calling him “Mando.”

“Do you remember Sorgan?” she asked.

Din frowned, cocking his head in confusion. “Of course, I do.” The swamp planet where they had met. How could he forget? And what was she getting at?

“Do you remember Omera?”

Dank farrik. Omera.

The Mandalorian felt an uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach at the mention of her name, and he fought the urge to stand up out of his seat right then and walk out the door. But before he could think of anything cutting to say in response, Dune plowed on.

“Omera cared for you, and you cared for her,” she said severely, maintaining unforgiving eye contact as she spoke. “And when you had to leave, when you had to take Grogu away to protect her village, it hurt you. I gave you a hard time about it then, but I saw how it affected you. You wanted that life. You wanted that safe, quiet, stable life with your little boy and someone who loved you. And you couldn’t have it then, but you could have it now.”

Maker, Din hated how right she was. It had been so long since they had spent any real time together; he had almost forgotten that charming quality of hers. Cara had always had a talent for cutting right to the heart of a situation, for breaking down barriers and seeing things as they were even when others attempted to brush them under the proverbial rug. This time, it had a wave of defensiveness rolling through him, setting his teeth on edge and sending a flash of heat up the back of his neck.

“What’s your point?” he spat, seething.

“My point is, that girl?” The ex-Shock Trooper jammed her thumb in your direction with a sharp gesture. Thankfully, you didn’t notice, as you were still fully occupied with Grogu, watching as he plucked weeds from between the flagstones on the patio and held them up for you to see. “That girl would follow you anywhere. To the end of the galaxy and back. So if you have any doubts, if you think that this isn’t going to work out, you need to tell her now. She doesn’t deserve to be strung along while you figure out what you want.”

The Mandalorian was shaking his head before she had even finished speaking. Hackles now officially raised, he said, “I’m not stringing her along. It’s not that, not…exactly.”

Dune inclined her head at him, spreading her hands wide in front of her as if to silently say, “Go on.”

Kriffing hells. She was going to make him say it. Thankful for the impassivity of his helmet, Din felt a flush rising in his cheeks as he admitted, “In my Tribe…there is no precedent for marrying outside of the culture.”

It sounded absurd now that he said it out loud, for so many reasons, not the least of which being that it was certifiably insane behavior to be thinking so seriously about marriage this early into…whatever your relationship was. You had only been together for a handful of days, all of them in the relative insulation of hyperspace. If you knew what he was thinking, if you knew the permanence of the way he saw your future together, you would be well within your rights to run as far away as you could manage.

Dune, however, seemed completely unperturbed by this revelation. Instead, she focused on another portion of his confession entirely. “Wait, seriously? No Mandalorian has ever married someone who isn’t Mandalorian before? That can’t be right.”

“In other Tribes, I’m sure they have. But my covert, my people, they follow the old Ways. If she were willing to convert, to take the Creed and become Mandalorian herself, no one would protest it.”

The marshal quirked an eyebrow. “And if she didn’t?”

“I don’t know.” Din looked down at the table in front of him, studying the grain of the wood, the glistening, wet rings left behind by the abandoned mugs of ale. “Like I said, there’s no precedent for it. I would need to seek the guidance of the naur’alor.”

“The armorer? The one we ran into down in the sewers after your covert was sacked?”

He nodded once. “Yes. I have no idea where she is now.”

“Well, you’ve got to be the most skilled bounty hunter in the Outer Rim at this point,” Dune said wryly. “Sounds like if anyone could track her down, it would be you.” The Mandalorian shrugged at that, not agreeing exactly but not protesting the assertion, either. “Well. I’ll leave it alone for now. But can I offer you a piece of advice, from one warrior to another?”

Letting out a long sigh, he finally met her gaze once again. “If I say no, will you do it anyway?”

“Probably.”

“Then go ahead.”

Din watched as her hard face softened somewhat, warmed in the long shadows of the setting Nevarran sun streaming through the open archway onto the patio. “People like you and me, we don’t often get to experience the…soft parts of life. The good parts. All we ever get to see is the pain. The blood and the cruelty. The never-ending fight to survive.” Pensive, she ran the tips of her fingers over the blue armored brass knuckles molded across the backs of her gloves. “If this girl can give you peace, I think you need to do whatever you have to do to hang onto that. I hope your armorer gives you her blessing, I really do. But if she doesn’t…” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time to think about what life would look like if you decided you didn’t give a shit about what anyone else says. You said it yourself. There’s more than one way to be Mandalorian.”

He swallowed thickly, the rush of fondness he felt for her friendship diluted somewhat by the sheer panic such an idea induced. Go against the naur’alor? Defy the Creed? His voice was gruff with emotion as he admitted, “I…don’t know any other way.”

“Maybe not. But you could learn.”

Releasing a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Din looked away, casting about desperately for a new topic of conversation, anything to direct that discerning gaze away from him and all of the uncharacteristic vulnerability she had managed to pull from the depths of him this evening. Eventually, after a moment or two of charged silence, he settled on spinning the tables back on her.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you found those…soft parts, here on Nevarro? That peace?”

The marshal scoffed good-naturedly, seemingly willing to allow the redirection. Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest with a grin. “Still searching, I’m afraid. Now that you mention it, though, I do have one more question for you.”

“Hm?”

“That girl of yours, she have a sister?”

A startled laugh burst from Din’s chest, crackling and warping through his vocoder. Out on the patio, you glanced over your shoulder at the sound, sending both him and Cara a blinding smile. Fuck. Honestly, he could understand the sentiment. You really were stunning.

---

Grogu only lasted another half an hour wandering around outside Ninda’s Cantina before he began whining to be picked up and held. Wide, dark eyes bleary in the setting sun, Din watched as you expertly nestled the boy against your breast, murmuring softly to him as you ran your fingertips over his downy white hair. Pillowing his little head against you, he looked ready to pass out at any moment.

The bounty hunter took that as his cue to take his leave of Marshal Dune for the evening in favor of escorting you back to the inn for the night. Karga had used his political privileges to get the three of you a room at the most popular establishment in town. Din had, of course, offered to pay for the room himself, but Karga refused to have any of it. He could still feel the flush that had crept up under his cowl at the waggling eyebrows the older man had given him when he revealed that the room boasted a massive, single bed.

He hoped the revelation wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but given that you had been sleeping spooned against him in the too-small quarters of his bunk for the last several days anyway, he assumed you would be in favor of the arrangement.

As he held the door open for you and bid you to enter first, his assumption proved correct almost immediately.

“Din!” you exclaimed, your enthusiasm hushed so as not to disturb the snoozing child in your arms. You took in the room with round, almost starstruck eyes – the polished, dark wood floor, the lush area rugs, the eclectic, tasteful art on the walls, and the truly giant bed that surely would have taken up half of the cargo hold on the Razor Crest piled high with thick down comforters and more fluffy pillows than he could count. Soft, incandescent orbs hovered near the ceiling in the center of the room, casting the entire space in warm light, and in the middle of a plush seating area, a basket of fruit and a glass pitcher of some kind of beverage, dripping with condensation, had been left on a low coffee table.

“This is so nice! Have you been here before?”

Din shook his head. “No, never.”

“I hope we didn’t put Karga out too much staying here for a couple days.”

Removing his satchel, he dropped it into one of the overstuffed armchairs then reached for yours to do the same. “Don’t worry about him. Karga might be the richest man in the parsec these days. He can afford a two-day room fee.”

You drew your lower lip between your teeth. “I suppose you’re right.” Wandering into the attached refresher, you flicked on the light only to gasp delightedly, “Din! They have a bathtub!” You peaked your head around the doorframe then, a wicked smile on your face. “It’s big enough for two.”

The image of you luxuriating in an oversized tub, your long hair piled on top of your head, only your shoulders and kneecaps visible above the bubbles flashed through his mind then. Settling in behind you, cradling you back against his chest, the soft globes of your ass cupping the length of his cock as he played with your soapy tits. Running fervid kisses down the length of your neck, gripping your waist, pulling open your thighs, seeking the heat between your legs with his fingers as you moaned into his ear –

Kriffing hells. He needed to get ahold of himself. The two of you were not alone. Grogu was still very much in the room, and although he was dozing now, Din could not count on that lasting long enough to do everything he knew he would want to do to you in that tub. Or in that massive, glorious bed. For a brief moment, the Mandalorian cursed the lack of privacy.

But then, dropping his gaze from your teasing grin, he took in the image of the child he had cared for for so long, his wrinkly little face serene in your arms, so tiny and helpless and yet also not. Grogu possessed powers Din could never comprehend, could never hope to foster. And Maker forbid that those powers grow into something that Grogu couldn’t control. The bounty hunter would be severely ill-equipped to intervene in that eventuality. Finding a Jedi to help him, to train him and protect him, was the best he could offer given the circumstances; he knew it to be true, to the core of his being.

So why did it feel like preparing to sever a part of himself, to contemplate letting him go?

Realizing you were waiting on a response, Din offered you a wan smile behind his helmet, hoping you could sense it in his voice. “Tempting, cyar’ika. Very tempting.”  

You, however, were too perceptive for your own good. Eyebrows drawing together in concern, you observed, “You’re thinking about Tython.”

The Mandalorian sighed, hesitating for only a moment before nodding once. “Yes.”

“We don’t have to take him, you know. We could just…keep him.”

He wished you wouldn’t say that. He knew you meant well, that you were simply trying to cheer him up, but you knew as well as he did why this was the only way forward. To imply that he had another choice was less than helpful. “You know I can’t do that,” he retorted, impatience and annoyance filtering into his voice.

You blinked back at him, eyes wide as it dawned on you that perhaps now wasn’t the time to make light of the situation. Offering him an apologetic smile, you exited the ‘fresher and came to stand next to him at the foot of the bed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

The three of you stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the Nevarran nightlife on the street outside waking with the oncoming dusk. Stomach sour, Din took one of your hands in his in the quiet, running the leathery pad of his thumb across the ridge of your knuckles. He shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You brought his hand to your mouth and dropped a kiss to the back of his glove. All is forgiven, it seemed to say.

“Well, if we’ve only got two more nights,” you began, “let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

The bounty hunter felt his eyebrows raise, and he met your gaze with his. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

A secret smile quirked the corners of your lips, and then you were passing Grogu off to him, slipping his empty carrier off your body, and toeing off your boots.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” you said. “Why don’t you get comfy while I get everything set up?”

“Get…comfy?”

Waving toward the bed, which took up the majority of the room, you chuckled to yourself. “Yes! Take off your armor and get in the bed. Take Grogu with you. Now, where is the holoprojector in here?”

As Din kicked off his boots and began removing his beskar piece by piece, he watched as you scanned the room, looking along the floor, the ceiling, and even in the dark wooden wardrobe along the far wall. Eventually, you uncovered a control panel tucked discretely into a piece of decor designed to look like a bookend and made a triumphant noise.

“Ah, there it is!” A few experimental button presses later, and a small holoprojector dropped down from the ceiling, just a few feet from the end of the bed. “Now, let’s see what they’ve got in their database…” You thumbed through the welcome screen, pulling up an interface with seemingly countless holovid options organized by planet of origin, genre, and original broadcast language. You scanned through a few but didn’t seem to see anything that caught your eye immediately. Clearly overwhelmed by the available choices, eventually you asked, “Do you have any favorite holovids from when you were a kid?”

By this time, the bounty hunter, clad in only his flight suit and his helmet, had settled himself in the bed, propped up against the thickly upholstered headboard with a mound of pillows behind his back. In his lap, Grogu had begun to stir, and he watched you work with interest, his ears quirked up, eyes wide.

“I don’t think so…” Din trailed off, considering. In the Fighting Corps on Concordia, holovids were rare commodities, traded between the older children on encrypted datapads in exchange for better duty shifts or coveted snacks from the cafeteria. The commanders had believed that such forms of entertainment were frivolous and unnecessary, and in what little leisure time their foundlings were granted, they had been encouraged to spend time reading cultural and military histories, or at the very least Mandalorian folklore. And before Concordia… Well. His memories of his birth parents were few and far between. When he thought of them, all he could see was the day the Separatists attacked.

Except…

“Wait.”

You looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“Knights of the Old Republic.” The name left his lips before it had even fully formed in his memory. “I remember watching Knights of the Old Republic. With my parents on Aq Vetina.”

And he did remember it. Soft linen pajamas, a woolen blanket, his body warm with the soft presence of his mother on his right, his father on his left. The faint blue tinge of the holoprojector in their living room, blaster fire and lightsabers flashing across the viewer. He had been so small then, no more than 7 or 8 years old.

He hadn’t thought about that in…decades.

Your expression softened at his response, a fond smile on your lips. “I’ve heard of that. It’s an old, animated serial, right?”

Din flushed and brought up a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Not old. But maybe…before your time.”

“Of course,” you soothed, smirking. Refocusing on the control panel before you, you continued, “Well, it looks like we’re in luck. They have all eight seasons in their database. Do you have a preference where we start?”

“Start at the beginning.”

You nodded once and selected the pilot episode, tagged with an original air date of nearly 40 years ago, and the holoprojector flared to life in the space a few feet from the bottom of the bed. Dimming the lights, you quickly stripped off your deep blue boilersuit and crawled in bed next to him, settling yourself against the extravagant pillows in nothing but your breast band and a pair of matching black undershorts. Grogu cooed at you happily, reaching out a tiny, three-clawed hand to fondle a lock of hair that had fallen from your braid.

And so, the three of you spent the evening huddled up in bed together as episode after episode of Knights of the Old Republic streamed in the background, and if Din blinked back a few tears as he watched you slowly nod off next to him, Grogu nestled between his body and yours, he supposed he could be forgiven for that. This was his family, his aliit, his clan of three, and no matter what happened on Tython, no one could take that from him.

---

If you're following along, you know where this is headed. Brace yourselves for a collision with canon events. Also, the KOTOR reference was a little treat for my husband, who proofreads every chapter for me before I post. I hope it brought my fellow gamers some joy. :)

Translations:

ad - child (son or daughter) naur’alor - smith, craftsman, specifically a metalsmith that works with beskar. It's a title that's called out in the Kyr'tsad Mando'ad, a manifesto of the Death Watch and is later recognized in the book The Bounty Hunter's Code by Boba Fett. Given the Children of the Watch's connection to Death Watch, this felt like an appropriate formal title for the Armorer. aliit - clan, identity, family

[plasticfreckles]

🌙 solavellan cohabitation enjoy 🌙

It is a long-known, well-tread path he takes. Rising from his slumber, making his own bath in the chamber (filling the tub with ice, melting it, then heating the water to just below evaporation because that takes less time and effort than getting servants do it for him), getting dressed, meditation and stretches, then walking down to the kitchens for a small breakfast to hurriedly eat in his rotunda before returning to his frescos.

It pains him that the stonemason doesn't know that once, ages before, his art covered every crevice in every wall in this place.

What's new on the path is that now, there is somebody else on this journey, changing it ever so slightly every time he wakes.

That now, the mattress is heavy with the imprint of another body; one who shares in his space willingly, enthusiastically. One that even if they sleep turned away from each other, will still hook a long-toed foot around his shin and pull him ever so slightly closer. One that makes sure the fire is bright and his feet warm before laying down next to him.

One that somehow, miraculously, does not invite Desire to his dreams, no matter what unseemly things he dreams of doing with it.

Lavellan sleeps less than he does; he often wakes to see her in her nightclothes, poking at the fire in the hearth before opening the balcony doors and fetching some water from her carafe to soak the soil of her plants. For someone who so easily complains of feeling cold, she has little problem going out in the winter, barefoot and sleeveless.

She has grown her own little forest in their chambers, since coming here; tangy herbs on the west balcony, bountiful hanging vines and tall ferns to keep away the eyes of the people below where they meditate and stretch away the nights aches (among.. more carnal activities, Solas admits).

The bigger of the two, the north balcony, where they sit to eat and read and talk, she decorated with plants from all over the continent and crystals alike. Sometimes he thinks his old magic is the only thing keeping the ground from failing underneath the weight of it all.

When they sit at their little table there, legs of castiron, top of stained glass, and she frowns at him over the pages in her hands, he's never felt more at home here.

A small, vile part inside of him despises her for it, that this enormous, loreful castle, his castle, needed a marred, unknowing woman for him to feel at home in it.

The bigger, gentler part inside of him, however, chants praises in a tongue long lost to time when she laughs at his comments to what she just read; never in mockery, always in soft, loving tones that end up agreeing with him.

She always apologizes for waking him, vowing to fix the creaking door hinges to their dressing room.

"Don't apologize. Being awake with you beats anything I could ever hope to find in the Fade." It makes her blush so deep it rivals the red of her nightgown, every single time.

Today, though, she has a reply for him, as well.

"Even when I'm so feverish you may as well sit in a pond?" It makes him laugh.

"The mattress was not that damp," he says, as he moves to sit on the edge of their bed and pulls her down into his lap. "But yes, even then."

Whatever her feeling the morning at her hip may have brought them, it is taken from them swiftly with a runner and a stack of parchment. Lavellan sighs and stands, though not before kissing his eartip.

The runner can barely look away from her chest, still in her nightgown.

-

They part sooner than he would like. They always do. They hide in the cellar library for their meal, sitting among veilfire candles and tomes older than even him. Sometimes she barely suppresses a giggle at the people going right past the door, looking for her. The Inquisitor's work is never done. It amuses him to no end that even though they do this every day, everyone else seems to forget that door exists.

They never look for him. An interesting turn of events, to be all but invisible inside of his own home.

He cherishes these little moments, when she pulls him close by his shoulders and kisses him over the tray of their breakfast before opening the door, walking upstairs and finding those who searched her in the cellars by her memory of their voices alone with impressive accuracy.

If he asks her at night what all those people needed of her, she will remember little more than their names and how they made her feel. How some of them thought nothing of tugging her along by her arm, looking at her ears and forgetting who she is. They look at me and see a knife-ear to see their will done. They forget I could open up a rift under their feet and disappear them in the Beyond.

She doesn't reply when he notes they might bank on her being too kind to harm then.

-

When she finds him at late at night, well through his fourth candle, still pondering his sketches and frescos in his rotunda, there's a promise of intimacy in her words, even though she carries the exhaustion under her eyes, in the stray hairs from her braids and the crisp smell of winter on her clothes.

"Night has long come, Solas. You've made enough art to last a lifetime, I think." A tug at his clothes, urging him to put down charcoal and parchment. "Wash off the paint, and I'll rub the tension from your shoulders. I brought some sweets up to our room."

He never realizes what sweets she speaks of until she mounts him under her lifted nightgown and presses his face to her breasts, bare from sliding the straps off her shoulders.

When he wakes the next morning, he decides, he will lure her back into the sheets after she opened the doors.

🌙

you can't tell me these two wouldn't smash all day every day if they could.

the fever saga continues ✨️

[alienssstufff]

LAST LIFE APOCALYPSE AU MASTERLIST

A very intensely written Life Series au by ME!

All general updates questions and lore can be found in the #last life apocalypse au tag! This post in particular will act as a masterlist regarding the timeline, worldbuilding and lore of the au. I wish to (hopefully) keep updating this post as more characters and arcs are revealed. 

IMPORTANT YOU VISIT THIS LINK FIRST BEFORE ENTERING (It’s pretty): > Last Life Apocalypse AU Intro (Talks about the mechanics)

Now without further ado - lets begin:

TIMELINE (Summarised)

The timeline of the AU is defined by two major arcs:

The past PROLOGUE 3RD LIFE that is the childhood of majority of the cast (location: their childhood town)

LAST LIFE PRESENT day that takes place in the woods (the main event - when the Apocalypse starts)

These are arcs that involve most if not all of the cast members from their respective seasons.

[BETWEEN ARCS] Between these arcs occur smaller events - big to some but not on a scale to affect everyone. This is the transition period after the cast graduate from Middle School and go their separate ways before reuniting (by fate) in the Last Life Woods. Events that happen in the between arcs take inspiration from the CC’s other respective series beyond the Life Series.

Some current inspirations: Evo SMP, Hermitcraft (various seasons), Scar’s TCD series, Bdubs’ SOTF. More about their involvement as updates progress.

[SCU SPIN-OFF] Consider this as an epilogue describing the state of the planet decades after the main cast has died. Not considered a ‘major arc’ as it is not focused on the main cast but exists solely for worldbuilding purposes (because I like it :] ).

WORLDBUILDING

Setting of Last Life takes place in the woods, think of American national parks or camping grounds on a road trip, or the Walking Dead (the telltale game not the show)

CLIMATE: Generic American woodlands climate but with a less generic winter weather. As the situations for the player’s get more dire, so does the environment around with forecasts for an oncoming snow blizzard from Magic Mountain as the world fades to white.

It is also during this time of year and climate where a creature known as the Wither is rumoured to roam the lands. It is a cryptid that unlike most woodland creatures, the Wither wakes from hibernation only during the Winter when it is cold enough and feasts on a very specific carnivorous diet. In reality this is known as the Patient 0 of the Bogeydisease, born and mutated within the labs of the Research Facility, leading to the downfall desolation of what is now known as the Abandoned Observatory.

MAIN LOCATIONS:

SOUTHLANDS (Camp Southlands) - Were once a popular camping hotspot before the apocalypse. The people who survived there were once camp counselors (Grian, Impulse, Mambo, Martyn, Jimmy). The grounds acted as both a family resort and a summer camp for kids  where they are divided into one of the five factions supervised by each counselor: -MARTYN Counsellor of Athletics and house of the GREEN CATS -IMPULSE Counsellor of Cooking and house of the YELLOW SUN BEARS -JIMMY Counsellor of Safety and house of the BLUE DOGS (formerly blue canaries) -MUMBO Counsellor of Crafts (shop) and house of the BLACK MOTHS -GRIAN Counsellor of (shenanigans) Arts and house of the RED BIRDS

FAIRY FORT (Fairy Fort Reserve FFR) - A geographically enclosed area dedicated to protecting the land and the endangered animals that are shelter there. Ownership of the Fairy Fort was passed along the generations of Lizzie’s family tree. The people who survived there are park rangers with Lizzie as their lead. They have current beef with the Southlanders as there are many things they disagree with and compete against.

ICE FORT (Shade-E-E’s Gas) - As it’s located near the center of the map, the ethubs ‘Ice Fort’ is one of the only ounces of urban infrastructure out in the woods. Upon arrival of the Apocalypse, it is a fortified Shade-E-E’s gas station barricaded by the only employees Bdubs and Etho (the manager). It once acted as a pitstop to drivers and travelers alike and is the only place in the woods that has a working cellphone tower and final connection to the outside world dubbed as “Etho’s Tree”.

TEAM BEST HIDEOUT / ROCKTAPUS (Abandoned Observatory/Research Centre) - An abandoned observatory squatted on by Skizz that doubled as a bunker that was originally built in preparation for a nuclear fallout. Upstairs the observatory contains secret government documents regarding information about the Bogeydisease and the Wither cryptid - Indecipherable to all except for Tango who understands them. Downstairs the bunker’s monitors are linked to several surveillance cameras in the woods.

GASLIGHT GIRLBOSS GATEKEEP (Scottage Club) - A retreat saved for the rich and elite. While the Scottage Club has its HQ here, holiday properties of its patrons are scattered all across the map (the secret green lives hideouts).

MAGIC MOUNTAIN - Kept off limits just for how dangerous the place is, no one ever goes there. Rumor has it the mountain has magic capabilities that can drive a man insane. The last human sightings near Magic Mountain were two lone hikers who by arrogance wished to conquer and come back surviving the woodland’s most treacherous point. And while they were never seen again, they say if you look very closely with a spyglass, you can catch glimpses of a small, broken up hut at the top.

THE NETHER (NETHERLANDS not-the-country): The NETHER is the closest town over from the Last Life woodlands and is home to facilities such as a Fortress Dept Store and a camping & fishing shop known as The Bastion. While hypothetically the cast could escape the woodlands to live in the Nether, it is because of the high value resources that can be found in these stores that attract both surviving scavengers and zombies alike - making the town very dangerous to defend.

The ‘nether portals’ in this au are the vehicles each team has on them to travel between locations. The Nether may be the closest town there is, but even walking there on foot is extremely dangerous - especially considering the apocalypse and the harsh elements.

BOGEYDISEASE

For legal reasons, I dropped biology in highschool as soon as I could - I do not know shit about diseases and how people develop medicine. This is a fictional disease. TLDR; I am talking out of my ass.

[Origins of the Bogeydisease and the L.I.F.E antidotes pending (secret!)]

Transfer of the disease in its early stages of evolution could only be transferred if bacteria had direct contact with the host’s bloodstream. At best (?) in small amounts the host would experience a fever and shivering. At worst the host would feel extreme fatigue, most likely dying of starvation/dehydration due to it being unaware of their hunger (and fatigue - the disease manipulates the brain into thinking the host is not fatigued). 

Nature of the disease (well.. virus) as it continues is designed to adapt with the changing environment. While most samples were not able to survive its effects, some victims of the Wither’s bite would survive and exhibit a second stage of the disease’s effects. If the host were to survive the initial stages of the disease, once the disease has fully adapted to the body of its host it would evolve in order to prolong its survival. This is evident by physical alterations of the host’s appearance.

Not just physical changes but behavioural as well. The host would act more akin to serving its natural instincts, more inclined to the hunt and the tendency to keep itself alive. 

People who are in the second stages and beyond of contracting the Bogeydisease are considered Red Lives. It is possible to cure Red Lives out of the Bogeydisease as long as the disease has not evolved to its later stages. WHEN a person is cured using a L.I.F.E antidote they may experience side-effects [explained in the INTRO]. In some instances, ex-hosts may retain some of the traits afflicted when they were Bogey.

Later stages of disease evolution. The disease and its hosts show strong similarities to how rabies can be passed between hosts. And based on how a host reacts to the disease, hosts of the disease are classified into two types:

Host is overwhelmed by the effects of the disease and dies early. If the body and surrounding scene are left untreated, the disease will continue to live on in the decomposing body and grow a special fungus that feeds off the remains. The fungus and its disease reproduces by its spores which allow the disease to not only infect the environment around but also proves the possibility in contracting an airborne variant of the disease.

Host grows accustomed to the effects of the disease exhibiting the aforementioned loss of higher brain functions above (incapable of reason and rational thought). Movements grow erratic, constantly moving as a means of maintaining fixed body temperature. For colder climates the diet of hosts relies on feasting on warm bodies. Failure to do so will induce drowsiness in the host, placing them in a slumber in order to regain energy and try again. Hosts also show signs of excessive salivation and occasional bleeding. Direct exposure to any of the host’s bodily fluids is another method in contracting the disease.

[ REMINDER THIS IS AN ONGOING AU , MORE TO BE UPDATED ]

[chaostroberry1]

Can I get a fluff of Beelzebub with Dom!M!Reader? I want them as a married couple which the gods saw as strange because usually divine beings do not marry nor is faithful to their partner, i just need something sweet from my fav❤️

(Dom as in taking the leads in the relationship/the husband roles. I also just realize how many people asking for Beelzebub after scrolling through your acc and i was like- nahh i can't blame them but i do hope you're not uncomfortable writing the same character again😭)

Yes!!! 💕 I can, thank you for your request! I was getting bored doing nothing until I found this request and I am excited as hell to write 😌 I don't know whether this is headcanons or story since it isn't specified, so I'll do both.

Beelzebub × Dom!husband! reader

Story and (separate)hc's below! Story comes first, skip it if you want only the hcs. Note : I will still use the same (m/n) lore from all my beelzebub writings, which explains why he's unaffected by Beelzebub's curse - Here

Here's a free scrap pic btw!‼️↓

Mini story↓

Believe it or not, no matter what you do, divine beings just simply take what they want and leave. This has been shown multiple times (take zues for example). That is why many look away whenever catching the eye of a divine being is brought up.

But that doesn't matter now that you and Beelzebub are together. Your relationship together is basic proof of loyalty and love. Not just something driven by lust and beauty. Which even the gods found as odd.

What even drove your relationship to be so perfect? There are so many times where you two would get stares from them, many curious if it was really that perfect. There had to be some sort of sacrifice made..or maybe a few lives lost! Or one of you just wanted to use the other for his own benefit. But no. None of their guesses were right.

It was just pure love.

"hun, do you want anything? Water? Ice cream, maybe?" You spoke, your hand gently holding his own—Receiving a neutral look. "No, I'm fine." you gave him a hum, pretending to believe him, before speaking again, refusing to acknowledge that he was just 'fine'. "How about a piggy back ride? I can carry you." His face flushed in embarrassment, quickly avoiding your eyes.

"I said I'm fine."

"maybe you're cold? Have my jacket-"

"(m/n)!"

You chuckled nervously, realizing that you may have went too overboard with the acts of service. But you took good pride being his husband, there is nothing wrong with caring about your male wife. "Sorry hun, I'm very sorry." With a gentle kiss on his face, you proceeded to stroll with him, hand in hand. Oblivious to the steam that came out of his ears from all the love bombing.

Both of you unaware to the watchful eyes of odin, who had witnessed the whole thing go down, deciding to continue walking and ignore it. Jeez, younglings these days, am I right? Young love really was true.

----

"you are so beautiful, love"

Your voice echoed in his ears, a sweet whisper that never failed to put him to sleep. Your hands softly caressing his face, giving him eyes that could only be described as adoration and love. The most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Love, I'll do all the laundry tomorrow, okay? You just lay down and rest." The voice continued, leaving him to relax better. "You don't need to.."

"Nonsense, I'll do it for you. Then I'll treat you to dinner, okay?"

His face heated up when he felt another soft kiss being planted on his lips, only encouraging him to let go, and give in to all his desires. You felt him cuddle into you even more, not wanting to leave any space for even a molecule— making you chuckle and plant another kiss on him. He felt your face bury into his neck, inhaling his scent while you embraced his body tighter. "I don't deserve you" he whispered, only to receive a small bite on his neck.

"that should be my line."

!Headcanons!

- being given the care that he so longed for, Beelzebub secretly enjoys how you coddle him so much. Even if he's so closed off from others, you are the only exception that he was willing to open up to.

- both of you would always be seen hand in hand together, like you and him were in your own little bubble of love. A mini haven, just for the two of you.

- beings of divine status, would only take, and then leave once they've gotten what they've came for. Which is lust, or other things.

- you were one hell of a protective mf whenever it came to Beelzebub. Any threat towards your relationship would vanish from the face all realms combined.

- I just know that Beelzebub is secretly a very jealous typa person whenever it comes to you. As much as he seems so nonchalant, he doesn't like it when your attention is somewhere else. Because c'mon, don't you love him?

- Whenever there's a little puddle, you'd throw your coat over the puddle, just so that he could walk without disturbances. Ignore the huge space beside the puddle, (which you both could have literally just walked on to avoid the wet space.)

- he was flabbergasted when he saw you commit such an act. Just for him.

- you'd carry him when you thought he was tired...even though his ears only perked up. You would immediately rush him to the medical room if he showed the littlest signs of being hurt...and so much more.

- did I mention that you literally fought with ten dudes, bare handed, just because one of them hit on your spouse? What the hell?

- in bed, he would be a pillow princess. Not needing to do any work at all, just being given everything he wanted! He was envied by the nymphs that someone like him got to be with you. But you shook off his worries, telling him that you'd never leave him for any of them.

- your dates were always at the best places, his place was literally full of your gifts. You buy him clothes, pretty trinkets, mini gifts, and so much more.

- zues also randomly doodles ideas on what you and Beelzebub's kids would look like, after he spot you and him kissing. (He even got Hermes approval on the ideas being good💀)

- no no, because random imagine. I know you randomly give his butt a light smack here and there, even though he wasn't even that thick. You loved to give him flirty comments whenever he was jelly, or give him so much affection and attention to the point where he felt like he would melt.

- the ring you got him was especially beautiful. Your proposal was also in only the most beautiful areas there was to exist, you really loved him.

- Even with all his venting and breakdowns on rare occasions—you were always there for him. Ready to give him some hot chocolate, snacks, water, tissues, hugs- you get the point.

- you were literally perfect. Too perfect for him.

- yet you not once, EVER, showed signs of hating him. Whenever you were frustrated or upset, you never took it out on him. There was just so much about you that made you a saint in his lonely void of darkness.

- that gave him hope. That everything was not so bad after all....as long as he had you by his side.