#Dragon: Yeah. Because he looks just like *you*

[toadslug]

I FINISHED IT!! Here are my silly opinions for the silly dragon series 🥰 Character names, explanations, and template below the cut:

★ Favorite character: Clay

Clay has been my favorite character since I read his book!! I think his character goes a lot deeper than how some of the fandom treats him (his character arc is amazing), and he's also just a really nice guy.

★ Liked by everyone but me: Queen Ruby

I have no idea why I don't like her 😭 I think the way she treated Peril just kind of pissed me off when I was a kid, and I've never been able to shake the grudge. It's not her, it's me. I almost put Bumblebee here instead (I can't fault her for acting her age, but her screaming can get tiresome).

★ Didn't like at first: Fatespeaker

I considered putting Glory here, but I only started to hate her when that was the popular thing to do (I'm back to liking her now). I immediately didn't like Fatespeaker... Probably because I was rooting for Sunny x Starflight at the time 😬 I PROMISE I'm not like that anymore omg, I was, like, nine. I've come to value Fatespeaker a lot more; her character is surprisingly interesting to pick apart.

★ Would like to know more about: Hailstorm

There's so many characters I want to know more about!! Gill!! Tau!! Riptide!! Moray!! Osprey!! Sora!! Literally any MudWing character!!! But I went with Hailstorm. I adore the cool, supportive big brother energy he radiates, and seeing him trying to fit back into IceWing society (and maybe go through a teensy identity crisis) would be interesting.

★ Least favorite character: Sky

Honestly, I don't really have a least favorite character...? There's Whirlpool, of course, but that's too easy. I ended up choosing Sky 🤷‍♀️ I liked him in Dragonslayer, but he annoyed me in The Flames of Hope. I feel like he became a lot louder and more brash.

★ Like the design, dislike the character: Vulture

His dragon skull tattoos and the gimmick for them is so sick?? Why is this grandpa more stylish than me and everyone I know??? His design is great, but everything to do with him and his crime ring felt a little out of nowhere to me. It's been a while since I've read Darkness of Dragons, so maybe I'm just not remembering everything? But yeah. I wish he was introduced better.

★ Like the character, dislike the design: Luna

I like Luna!! And I like how she looks on her book cover, too (the rendering on her is drop-dead GORGEOUS). But the rest of her appearances in canon art... ehh.

These shades of green are making me feel things. And the spots on her wings look kind of awkward to me.

★ Favorite ship: Jambu x Pineapple

I was really close to putting Clay x Peril here because of how OBSESSED I was with them as a kid (shout-out to the Demons Peril PMV by Echosplash Animations that saved my life); however, Jambu x Pineapple is the only ship in the series that got me kicking my feet. The flashback to them cuddling in the hammock melted my heart 💖 Luna x Swordtail, Tamarin x Anemone, and Mangrove x Orchid are also my beloved. Honestly, though, I'm not that involved with shipping anymore.

★ Would never befriend IRL: Sundew

I like Sundew as a fictional character, but I would be slightly scared of her if she was real. She probably wouldn't like me.

★ Would befriend IRL: Umber

He just seems chill. I don't think he'd prod me to do stuff or talk, and I like people like that... People who can just let you exist. I feel like he'd tolerate my cringey humor, too.

★ Similar personality: Clearsight

I am NOWHERE near as girlboss as her, but I can relate to constantly worrying about future situations that may or may not happen 😁😁

★ Least favorite ship: Burn x Scarlet

Sorry toxic yuri ☹️ I just don't ship Burn with anyone.

*This template wasn't my idea; I took the original template and modified it to my liking.

[jsmelodies]

Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 

Find the witch in the woods.

Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.

Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.

If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.

Written for @nessianweek Day 5: Behind Closed Doors

Because nothing says behind closed doors like getting to know a witch in the middle of the woods with no one around.

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Cassian had a long time to think on the ride back to the palace. Once he cleared the thicket of the forest, he urged Ruby to go faster, settling into an easy canter for the remainder of the journey.

The sun was just beginning to hit the tips of the castle spires when he made it to the city streets. The children paused in their playing in the streets to watch him ride through the gates.

Ruby let out a snort as he slowed them down to a walk, and he flashed his typical easygoing grin to the children. For the first time, though, that smile felt ingenuine. 

Women gave him shy smiles as he rode by, nothing like the stern look of that witch in the forest. He hadn’t even gotten her name.

You want me to find you worthy? I don’t.

Was all of this just a lie? All of the years hoping he could be something better—something greater. What if he’d just deluded himself? What if he wasn’t worthy at all?

No one paid him any mind as he rode in. He wasn’t beat up like Kallon was, so there was nothing interesting to see. Cassian approached, sliding off of Ruby with one smooth movement.

Rhys and Azriel were already done for the day, placing their dulled practice blades back on the rack and leaning against the stone of the palace wall.

“I take it you didn’t have much luck,” Az said, noticing his frustration, and the lack of a princess on his arm.

Cassian considered not telling them the truth. He considered saying that he searched the woods all day without a single trace. But, he sighed and said, “I found her.”

Rhys frowned. “What happened? Can you remember?” he asked.

“Yeah, I remember everything. I messed up and insulted her. She struck a nerve, so I…”

Azriel watched him with an arched eyebrow. “You what?”

Cassian winced, knowing how what he was about to say would sound. “I may have implied that she didn’t have a soul.” 

Azriel let out a long, long breath. “Yeah. Alright, so you fucked up pretty badly.”

Cassian slid his gaze to Rhys, who had a singular eyebrow lifted.

“How important is this to you?” Rhys asked, his voice contemplative.

“I need to make it right.”

“Yeah, if there’s any chance of you getting that sword-”

“No,” Cassian said, cutting him off. “Regardless of that. I need to make it right.”

An honorable man wouldn’t have said what he did. And if by some chance he did, then that man would apologize. Rhys’ mother ingrained that lesson into him when he was just a boy.

He hadn’t meant what he said. It was all spoken out of anger, but it wasn’t okay. 

Cassian knew what he had to do.

***

He set out again the next morning. The witch wouldn’t try to kill him, he didn’t think. At least, not after he apologized. And he would apologize.

The ride through the forest was short, and his heart beat quickly in his chest for the entirety. 

He remembered the route back to her cottage with perfect clarity. She must not have spelled him, or whatever it was she did to Kallon, because he was able to follow the same path to her cottage, that thread pulling him along faintly.

It was almost like she was waiting to see what he would do.

He took a deep breath as he reached the edge of the line of trees, attempting to clear his head before he faced her again.

His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. He could do this.

“I’ve asked you to leave. I won’t do it again.”

Cassian was dragged out of his daze by the words, and he opened his mouth, prepared to defend his presence, when he realized they weren’t directed at him at all.

Another man stood in the clearing, hulking and in full metal armor, like he expected a fight. Unfortunately, Cassian recognized that armor. Tomas Mandray. He stood with his sword raised, ready to attack.

The witch was in her doorway, clad in the cloak from yesterday, gripping it firmly around her body. As if that cloak was her own form of armor.

The woman didn’t deserve this. It didn’t matter what Cassian’s opinions were, or anyone else’s for that matter. She deserved to exist without fear of being harmed or killed.

As a knight to the kingdom, he would ensure she could.

“Tomas. That’s enough,” Cassian said, making the last few steps into the clearing.

“What are you doing here?” Tomas asked, sneering. 

They’d never gotten along, only ever exchanging stiff pleasantries before both going on their way. He had a feeling this conversation would not even come close to being that.

“The same as you, I imagine,” Cassian said, getting off his horse. “I’m here for the sword.”

A lie. Well, partly. 

“Then you understand the witch needs to die,” Tomas said. “They’re a blight on our kingdom, and need to be killed.”

The look on Tomas’ face, however, implied that wasn’t where his intentions ended. Cassian felt the rage bubbling under his skin, that if he hadn’t shown up, the witch might have been forced to deal with that.

“You don’t need to kill her,” Cassian said. “She’s just minding her own business. Leave her be.”

“Whatever,” Tomas said, turning away from Cassian, raising his sword once more.

The witch retreated back inside a step, but it was enough for Cassian to see that she was well and truly terrified.

Before he knew it, he’d moved and his sword was at Tomas’ throat. He would kill him, one of his fellow knights, if it came down to it.

“I won’t say it again,” Cassian said with a low voice. “Leave her alone. Take one more step towards that door, Tomas, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”

The other knight’s eyes narrowed. “Whose fucking side are you on?”

“There are no sides. I just have basic human decency.”

It turned out his intervention was unnecessary, however, because the next moment Bryaxis had jumped in between Tomas and Cassian, hissing up a storm.

Tomas took a single step back, raising an amused eyebrow. “What’s her stupid cat going to do?” he muttered to himself, aiming to kick him aside with his foot.

Somehow, Cassian knew before it happened that it had been the wrong thing to say. Bryaxis shifted into a snarling beast with long, sharp claws that curled into the ground. In a moment, his teeth were as long as Cassian’s forearm and he stalked towards Tomas, black fur bristling on his neck and back.

Bryaxis stood almost three times taller than the man, and he looked ready to tear Tomas’ head clean off of his body.

“Oh, fuck,” Tomas said.

He held his sword out with shaking hands, prepared to fight. At least, until Bryaxis roared in his face.

Then the coward ran. He dashed back towards his horse tied to the edge of the clearing, Bryaxis snapping at his heels for the first few steps.

His horse’s eyes were milky white with fear, and she reared, yanking Tomas so hard that Cassian thought his arm might be pulled out of his socket.

Tomas yanked the horse back down. “You stupid beast!” he seethed, climbing up onto her back and digging his heels into her side until she uneasily started running through the trees.

Cassian would have let out a sigh of relief, if getting rid of Tomas was the only challenge he faced. But Bryaxis turned, still in his beast form, and eyed Cassian and the sword still at attention in his hand.

Don’t mind Bryaxis. He doesn’t bite, unless you do first.

Praying that the witch had told him the truth yesterday, he dropped it, raising his arms placatingly. “I, uh, I don’t want a fight,” he said. 

Bryaxis prowled closer, his breath smelling like a rotten carcass. When was the last time the woman cleaned his teeth? Did he even allow her to clean his teeth? 

Bryaxis huffed in Cassian’s face, and heat prickled at his ears. But then Bryaxis stepped back and sat back on his haunches, letting out a small groan. Within a few seconds he shifted back into a cat, weaving through Cassian’s legs and purring once more.

It didn’t set him at ease. His heart still hammered in his chest. Now he knew what had left Kallon in such a state only a few days ago.

It was safe to say that he had no intention of getting on Bryaxis’ bad side anytime soon.

“So,” he said. “Not a cat.”

The witch hummed anxiously, her eyes on the treeline. He took a deep breath as his heart settled, then he dared to approach her in the doorway.

“Will he remember?” Cassian asked, as she watched Tomas disappear.

“No,” she said, her voice distant. “He’ll forget almost everything as soon as he’s about a mile out.”

“Bryaxis took a long time to step in,” he commented. It was a question, of sorts, of why the witch had the cat wait.

She merely sighed. “I knew him once. I wanted to see if he’d changed. Apparently, he hasn’t.”

If it was even possible, Cassian hated Tomas even more—for crimes that he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d committed yet. Something about this woman had him coming to her defense, even though he was the last person who should.

He’d insulted her, and she probably wanted nothing to do with him. Even still, he wasn’t going to leave her with the likes of Tomas, Bryaxis or no.

She was rattled, that much was clear. As much as the rest of her was an unrelenting fortress, it was her eyes that gave her away—wide as they continued to watch the spot that Tomas disappeared through, not an ounce of silver anger to be found.

He needed to get her mind off it, off him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly, laying a hand on her wrist. “Let’s go inside. He’s not coming back.”

It was instant, the way everything shifted. That nervousness shifted to indignation. Fear to bitterness. 

Cassian loved storms. As a boy he’d stay up listening to them rattling the windows, streaks of lightning spreading across the sky. Something about them soothed him while scaring others, and he felt safe listening to the long rolls of thunder.

And she was one, staring him down with pure electricity. She could strike him down with one single blow if she wanted.

Silver returned. There she was.

“I don’t recall extending you an invitation.” Yesterday, her words hadn’t been so distant. Short and snarky, yes, but there had been an undertone of sly amusement before he’d well and truly messed everything up. “I thought I told you to leave yesterday.”

“You did.” 

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

Cassian still didn’t know exactly what he’d say once he got here, and convinced her to listen to him. But he needed to say something.

He thought back to Tomas leaving, and the comment she made when he did.

“You said you wanted to see if Tomas had changed,” Cassian began. “So? Do you think a man can change?”

“What are you getting at, Sir Cassian?”

“It’s just Cassian.”

She let out a small huff, and asked again, “What do you want, Cassian?”

“I came to apologize,” he said. He could feel her watching, studying him with those pale blue eyes that he wanted more than a mere glimpse of. “How I spoke to you was out of line, and I’m ashamed of it. I’m sorry.”

“Anything else?” she asked. “You came all the way out here just to apologize?”

“Nothing else,” he said. “I am truly sorry.”

Her lips set into a line as she thought. The seconds ticked by, and he had the suspicion that she would tell him to leave again. Would once again call him unworthy.

But then, she did the last thing he expected. The set of her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him the tiniest dip of her chin in acceptance.

“I respect a man who can admit his mistakes.” 

She took in a breath, as if she were considering saying something else, but then she let it go. “Come inside. You’re helping me today.”

And that was that. Cassian spent the rest of the morning doing as the witch instructed, chopping and scraping and grounding until his hands were sore. He found that he didn’t mind, that it was nice to put his sword down for a little while. 

While they were cleaning up, Cassian couldn’t help but wonder. He asked the question before he could think better of it.

“What does this matter to you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why do you care who the princess marries?”

“You’re moving into dangerous territory,” she said. “Remember what happened yesterday?”

“Answer it anyway,” he said, “You know her, don’t you?”

“This is how you wish to win me over?”

“Not really, I was just curious.”

For a while, he didn’t think she’d answer. 

She handed him some mushrooms from the other side of the clearing, asking if he knew how to cook. He sighed and brought down a pan from the rack he ran into the day before, assuming the conversation was over.

The mushrooms and a few other vegetables spit and popped in the iron pan, and the witch was happy to watch as he cooked for both of them.

While his back was turned, she said, “I do know her. We grew up together.”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting her to say. He didn’t know why he imagined her growing up solely in these woods, outcast from society. Ignorance, maybe.

“You grew up in the castle?”

“You could say that.”

The answer roused a much longer list of questions, ones he didn’t think she’d be willing to answer.

Who are you, that you know the princess so closely? Why distance yourself out here? Just…why?

“Who are you?” he asked. He moved the now finished vegetables to the side, approaching her at the table. 

“No one you would know,” she said.

She loved to evade his questions, he realized. Or, possibly, there was something about opening up to him that absolutely terrified her.

“Can I look at your face?” he asked.

She didn’t seem to like the idea of that, letting out a huff and leaning back in her chair. “I think you’ve seen enough, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think I have,” he said. 

She didn’t make a sound. 

“If you’re no one that I know, it shouldn’t matter, right?”

She didn’t outright deny him. Instead, she seemed to ponder over what he said, and she stood and took hesitant steps forward until she was right in front of him.

“You can’t tell any of the others what you see,” she insisted.

He felt it in the air, how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. He’d make sure he never gave her a reason to regret it.

“I won’t. I swear it, on my honor.”

She inhaled sharply, then gave him the slightest nod in permission.

He took the edges of her hood in his hands. Even before he brought it down, he could almost see what was underneath. But when it was down fully…

He couldn’t say a word. Not when the angles of her face were so striking, when her beauty was so absolutely devastating that Cassian thought he might crumble.

Just as he suspected, perfect, golden brown hair framed her face, and her eyes were the most enchanting shade of blue-gray. She was young, perhaps a year or two less than his twenty four. And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Cassian had a purely male reaction.

He simply couldn’t speak, unless the word was one syllable and absolutely meaningless. So he didn’t.

This woman would be his undoing. He couldn’t come back again, because who knew what strings they would pull if he did. Whose bed they might end up in, what bridges they couldn’t uncross.

No. It had to end today. As much as he hated it, it had to end today. The witch had her life, and he had his. 

He resisted the urge to reach for her, instead barely managing to keep the fabric of her cloak between his fingers.

“See? Nothing to look at,” she said, being the first to break away.

Cassian disagreed.

***

In the late afternoon he found her on the edge of the fenceline, a book in her hand while making a practiced motion with her arm.

She was speaking softly, repeating the same phrase over and over, and he could see the soft glimmer of her magic taking hold on the perimeter of the property.

Her magic—he didn’t have words to describe it. It held a silver shimmer, and when it concentrated it almost looked like silver fire.

She was warding, he realized. He didn’t know why he expected something else.

“You have defensive magic,” he said.

She paused in her incantation, and the silver fire faded in small wisps. “That surprises you?”

“If I’m speaking honestly, yes,” he said. “Witches don’t have the best reputation.”

Thankfully, she didn’t get upset by it. She merely asked him another question.

“Yet you came to my aid. Why?”

Her eyes met his, the setting sun making her hair look like molten gold. “Because I don’t know the whole story.” 

He added, “And I want to know it.”

She stood there like a queen, watching him with proud eyes and a stance that he’d seen time and time again with his fellow warriors.

He had to admit, she was striking. He’d seen a lot of beautiful women, but she surpassed mere beauty. She was everything strong and fierce and commanding, and he couldn’t for the life of him explain why he was so drawn to it.

She must have seen something true in his face, because her next words were, “Come.” 

Cassian made his way over until he was standing at her side. He stood close enough so that he could see the drawings in the book over her shoulder. Now that he was next to her, now that she let him closer, her voice turned softer. Not by much, but enough that he could tell that she was trying to connect with him in her own way, by sharing something precious to her.

“So little of what I do revolves around curses and jinxes. Most of what I do is this, and healing,” she explained.

“Do you ever perform those?” he asked.

“Would it make you think differently if I said yes?”

“I think it depends.”

She returned her attention to the book, not looking at him as she said, “I only sell those if it’s necessary.”

Cassian didn’t know what to do with that. All he had were the stories—of good men being cursed with misfortune, with no discernible cure in sight.

She went silent next to him, as if she was expecting the worst. 

Maybe she had a good reason. Maybe she deserved the benefit of the doubt. He’d assumed poorly yesterday, and that had blown up in his face, making him say things he regretted.

Today was a new day. He could choose not to believe the worst in her, and maybe she might do the same.

So he said, “Will you show me what you’re doing?”

The witch let out a soft breath, as if his lack of condemnation meant something to her. She held up the book a little closer so he could see.

“I need to draw the rune with my magic, and say the incantation,” she explained. “The drawings here are for practice. They don’t do anything.”

He looked over her shoulder, having to stop himself from reaching over and tracing her immaculate drawings with his finger.

As he pressed up against her, he resisted the urge to settle his hand on her waist. That would be entirely inappropriate. Her breath hitched as his chest brushed against her, a sound so lovely that it was pure music to his ears.

He cleared his throat. “So, you draw it in the air? And it just works?”

She chuckled. “Something like that.”

She pointed to one of the runes on the page she had open. “This one makes a shield. It’s strong enough to discourage unwanted attention from the men that show up on my doorstep.”

“I was able to walk in.”

She said without pausing, “Your attention was not unwanted.”

She could have locked him out without a second thought, after their fight yesterday. Yet she let him come back inside and apologize.

His mouth parted, then closed, but she continued on. “It’s not impenetrable, though. If any do get past it, that’s what Bryaxis is for.”

Like with Tomas.

“You’re trusting me with all of this?” was the only thing he could ask. A lesser man could sell out this information, leaving her for dead.

“I am,” she said. “Because I do think that under all that arrogance, and bravado, there is a good man. One that I don’t think would betray my confidence.” 

She turned, so that her chest was almost touching his.

Almost.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“I know,” she said simply.

Cassian shook his head. “I just don’t understand. You’re giving me the benefit of the doubt, when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Her eyes softened. “You did the same for me,” she countered. “You put down your sword yesterday, and today, when most other knights wouldn’t hesitate to attack. That means something.” 

“That should be common courtesy.”

She shrugged. “It isn’t. It’s why I let you inside, and why I allowed you back today.”

“Your bar is exceptionally low.”

Her lips curved upwards. “Perhaps.”

She brushed a strand of her hair behind her delicate ear, and Cassian tracked the entire movement, not able to look away. “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

“For what?”

“For saying that I think you’re unworthy. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I believe you may be the most worthy of them all.”

Hope fluttered in his chest. “So, you’ll give me the sword?”

And just like that, it was gone—that moment of vulnerability between them dissolved. Her gaze hardened, and she turned away.

“You can’t marry her. My answer is the same.”

He remained silent.

“I know that’s why you came back. Why you…apologized to me in the first place,” she continued.

“I came back to apologize because I was wrong,” he said. “You hit a nerve, and I lashed out. But I do want to marry her.”

“You don’t know her. How can you marry a woman you don’t know?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, but he insisted, “I would be good to her.”

Her silence was a long one. “After what I’ve seen, I don’t doubt that. But my answer is no.”

She didn’t look his way again, returning to her warding. Her voice was quieter now, almost remorseful, as if she expected him to say something harsh.

He wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.

He stalked off before he could say anything he’d regret.

***

Her golden hair fell down until it tickled against his chest. She moved on top of him, naked and glistening, shaking as she took exactly what she needed from him.

The muscles of her thighs clenched around his waist as she let out a long moan, orgasming around him and slumping forward.

“Cassian,” she whispered.

He pulled her onto him, desperate to chase his own release.

“I–” he tried to say her name desperately. But it wasn’t there on his tongue, as much as he wanted it to be.

He was close. He was–

Cassian woke with a jolt, sweating as he sat up in his bed. His pulse threatened to explode in his throat, and he combed his now damp hair away from his face.

“Fuck.”

***

Before he could question what he was doing, he was saddling Ruby up yet again and making his way through the village.

Never mind that he’d sworn he wouldn’t go back. He told himself it was because there was still a chance he could change her mind. Yes. He could work with that.

The witch was tending to her garden, pulling weeds and gathering herbs into her basket when he arrived.

Her hair was pulled into a messy braid over her shoulder. He was hit with the urge to pull that braid apart, weaving her hair through his fingers as his dream came back to him in full force—the sound of her moaning on top of him, and the silver that blazed as she came around him.

Stop it.

He offered her his usual smile, and she pursed her lips in what he could tell was mock annoyance.

“You came back,” she said.

“I did.”

“My answer isn’t changing.”

“I think you’ll find I can be rather convincing.”

Play with me, he thought.

She seemed amused, if anything, and said, “I suppose we’ll see.”

They moved inside, the witch cleaning the dirt off of her hands. “You still don’t know her,” she said, pondering. “I do wonder how you intend to fix that.”

He dared to say, “And if I came to get to know you?”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Then I would say you were foolish, and to not return.” She gave him a knowing look. “But you haven’t said that, have you?”

He knew what she was truly saying. As long as they didn’t acknowledge it, she would play along. She’d let him come back.

“No,” he agreed. “I haven’t.”

But even still, her eyes glimmered. “Do try to change my mind, Sir Cassian. I’m curious to see what methods you employ.”

He almost smiled at her then, but before he could, the witch froze, looking distantly over his shoulder through the window.

He turned to see what she was looking at, but she didn’t let him.

“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping up and stopping him with a hand to his chin. It was stupid for his gut reaction to be that this was the first time she had touched him willingly. It was like he was a damn teenager all over again, desperate for any form of touch.

She was pressed fully up against his chest, her breasts pushing into him, and he blinked as he tried to pretend this was the most normal thing in the world.

Foolishly, he thought she might kiss him. But that was the lust-addled part of his brain speaking, for the witch then dragged him along and shoved him into a closet, hissing at him. 

“Do not, under any circumstances, leave this room unless I tell you to. And do not try to look.”

The door slammed in his face. He fell back into the clutter and scowled as something jammed into his arm.

She rustled around the cottage, clearly looking for something while muttering under her breath, before the cottage door opened.

There were two sets of creaking footsteps. Another feminine voice filled the room. They talked for a while, most of the conversation indiscernible, but he could pick up a word every now and then.

They were talking about a man, from what he could understand. Cassian leaned back, trying not to listen.

It didn’t work entirely. The second woman started crying, and the witch’s voice turned soothing, more so than he’d ever heard it.

“Here,” the witch said. “This will help. And if it doesn’t, you know where to find me.”

He heard the muffled sound of crying for a few more minutes, along with the occasional murmur of encouragement from the witch. Then the gentle croak of the door as the witch led the woman outside.

Once the door was closed, he heard the long, frustrated sigh that came afterwards. Then the door to the closet opened, the witch standing on the other side of it.

“You can come out.”

Cassian stumbled out of the dark closet, coughing up dust as he knocked over something wooden on the side.

The witch looked tired, her normally bright eyes dull and weary. Seeing this woman, whoever she was, had taken something from her.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” she said tiredly.

“She was crying. And you calmed her down.”

A muscle ticked in her jaw. 

“I know you men find this hard to believe, but I am not a monster,” she snapped at him, letting the bite leak into her tone. “Just because you all don’t have sympathy doesn’t mean I don’t, either.”

“I never thought you were,” he said honestly. After yesterday he thought they’d made some progress. But he was forced to admit that there were likely still misconceptions, on both their parts.

He didn’t know where the second half of what she said came from. But she’d been patient with him, so perhaps he could afford her the same courtesy.

“And I know it may still take some convincing, but I’m not one, either.”

He gave her a few seconds to calm down. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes while she sunk into a chair.

“No. I know you’re not,” she said, softer. “I’m sorry.”

He’d already forgiven her. 

He asked, “How did she find you here?”

“Anyone who needs me can find their way here with ease.” She waved her hand. “Magic.”

He had to admit, that made very little sense. But Cassian wasn’t a witch. He wasn’t well-versed in how their magic worked, or the intricacies of it. He was willing to learn, though.

He thought about how he’d just known where to find her, how he’d felt guided somehow. That string in his chest had brought him here, not just once, but three times.

Was that her magic? Or had it been something else? Fate, perhaps?

Cassian pushed those questions aside.

“Why does she come to you?” he asked.

The witch considered his question for a long moment before answering. “Some knights beat their wives. Take them against their will, too. Did you know that?”

That wasn’t what he was expecting her to say. He blinked.

He knew it happened. Though the knights in question never talked about it openly, for it was shameful to treat a woman like that, it did happen.

“I do.”

“You asked me yesterday if I perform curses and jinxes. I give them to the women who ask for them, and those that need them desperately. No one else.”

“And for the women who really need it, I help them escape,” she said. “Them and their children, if they need to.”

Not a soulless witch at all, he thought. He felt a lot of things then. Guilt for assuming and for his ignorance, and a newfound respect for the woman.

Her magic was beautiful. It healed and protected, which was a far cry from the stories and the warnings he had been raised on. Hell, even stepping into the clearing gave him a sense of peace that he now didn’t know how to live without.

“That’s very brave of you,” he said, his tone soft and serious.

Curiosity sparked in her gaze for the first time in this conversation. 

“What is bravery to you, Sir Cassian?” she asked.

“Just Cassian,” he said.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Answer the question.”

Bravery was protecting those who needed it. It meant putting himself in between a beast and a child, risking himself so that others had a chance at safety.

He said as such. 

The witch gave him a small smile. “Bravery isn’t all swords and slaying beasts,” she said. “Do you understand?”

He’d never thought of any alternative. But after hearing that woman cry on the witch’s shoulder, and knowing that she was going to return to her husband…

It made him sick. He’d always known it happened, but had turned a blind eye because it simply wasn’t talked about.

Maybe there was more than one type of bravery, and more than one type of feat to be celebrated. 

What if there was more to being a hero than he thought?

For ages, he’d thought this forest was home to only monsters. But maybe not all monsters lived in the woods, and maybe not all heroes wore shining armor and lived behind palace walls.

Maybe one of those heroes was here, living among the beasts. As he looked at the witch’s face, he could see it. This woman was brave and honorable and charitable, and everything he wished to be. And she hadn’t slain a single monster in her life.

“I think I’m starting to.”

***

Her answer never changed. Not that he expected it to.

He was supposed to go rescue a princess, but this woman looked like a queen in her own right. And sometimes it was all he could do to stop himself from bowing at her feet and swearing fealty.

He found himself obsessed. There was no logical explanation for it. Cassian returned the next day, and the next, and every time the look on her face was a little less surprised. Every day, he grew a little bit less sure of his purpose. Of his destiny.

“Why do you keep coming back?” she asked. “You know my answer.”

“I don’t know.”

Because there’s something about you that keeps drawing me back. Because I can’t stay away. Because I want to know what your hair feels like between my fingers, and the way your name sounds on my tongue–

He forced himself to stop thinking about it. No. He couldn’t fall for the witch. That would be a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t even know her name.

Never mind that he had come to love the silence of the woods, the only sound being the music of the wind darting through the trees and the babbling of the small creek across the clearing. Or that they so often fell into a gentle companionship that had Cassian staring in awe, watching her furrowed brow as she muttered spells and put together her potions.

He was merely…fascinated. And she was fascinated with him, too. That was all it was. She’d forget all about him once he fulfilled his quest, and then he’d go back, the princess in hand, and…

That unsettling feeling sunk in his stomach again. He’d never forget her. He didn’t know if he ever could.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

Her question broke him out of the cycle of his thoughts. She’d come inside from the garden carrying a basket of vegetables. He nodded, and she moved to go place the basket on the counter.

When she walked by him, though, he grabbed onto her wrist, forcing her to stop. 

“Tell me your name?” he begged.

Her gaze fell to where he held her wrist, then her gaze softened as she returned it back to his face. “My name is Nes.”

“Nes,” he said, sounding it out.

Somehow, it was perfect.

***

They stopped talking about the princess entirely. 

Cassian helped in the garden, or wherever she instructed him to. He learned that she loved music, and loved to dance when she was able. He wanted to bring her to the great hall someday to dance with her, although he didn’t say that, because he knew she would shut him out afterwards.

And she learned with great joy that he knew how to cook. She’d watch from the table, smiling softly as she pretended she focused on her notebook, but they both knew the reality of which they would not speak of.

She answered his questions. He answered hers. Slowly she opened up to him, and they both said nothing about the afternoons when she accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder while he read her books that were dirtier than he could imagine.

She listened as he told stories of him and his brothers growing up, and she smiled fondly as she spoke of her and her sisters. They had an interesting relationship, from what he could tell. She always avoided telling him any details about them, never even mentioning their names, which he found slightly odd.

She stopped asking why he was there, because internally they both knew that the answer had changed. So she didn’t ask, and he didn’t admit to anything. 

Knights came by every so often. She always shoved him in the cottage when they did, and he watched from the corner of the window as she wrapped her blue cloak around herself.

Most tried to attack on sight. Once Bryaxis shifted, only a few of them ever continued to hold up their sword. Oftentimes they went running, just as Tomas did.

Tomas was the only one that had rattled her, it seemed. He didn’t push, but she seemed grateful every time he asked if she was alright when she came back inside.

Stragglers came by sometimes, too. People who required her healing services, or a special potion or spell. Once she was drawn back to the city to help with a woman giving labor, and Cassian found himself back at the palace for the rest of the afternoon with no idea what to do with himself.

Today, Nes had him collecting larger stones from the edges of her clearing to place in her garden bed. He cupped water from the stream when he was finished, letting it wash away the sweat on his face, before heading inside.

Nes was struggling to reach a plate at the top of the cabinet.

“This damned…dish,” she muttered to herself, on the very tips of her toes, looking like she was about to fall over.

“Here, I’ll–”

He leaned into her space to grab it for her, his arms reaching high up. He pressed against the back of her body, and he felt every single curve up against his chest.

She seemed to realize the position they were in at the same time he did, slowly turning to face him.

She didn’t push him away. Instead her lips parted, barely an inch, and her hands tightened on the edge of the counter behind her.

Nes didn’t move as he pressed in closer, only a few inches away from her. He lifted her chin with his fingers.

There wasn’t a sound. In the pure serenity of the cottage, there wasn’t a single sound, save for the soft exhale from Nes as Cassian leaned even closer, and the slight rustle as the wind tapped on her glass windows.

Cassian didn’t know who closed the rest of the distance first. But before he could question what he was doing, his lips were on hers, soft and tentative as he explored. He gave in to his fantasy, bringing her golden hair between the pads of his fingers and inhaling her scent.

Honeysuckle. Loveliest when it bloomed in the secrets of the dark, sweet in its own private paradise. Somehow she bloomed out here, in a place with no light. Somehow she made it her own, made this dark corner of the world a little more lovely.

He shouldn’t be doing this. But that first brush of her lips had him deciding that he simply didn’t care. 

He didn’t care.

Whatever consequences came of this, he’d face them with honor. He couldn’t resist it anymore, this growing attraction that had turned to full blown lust and possibly even more.

Her fingers curled on the leather on top of his shoulders. He swallowed her gasp with his lips, pushing her open even further with his tongue, desperate to taste more.

Nothing mattered, if it meant he couldn’t have her at least once. Even if once was all they had. He’d selfishly let himself have a taste before their paths no longer had a reason to cross.

His hand cupped her breast, perfect and full in his palm. He pulled her up against him, letting her feel the growing desire he had for her, and her mouth parted as she let out a moan.

It was music to his ears. A symphony.

“I want you. Now, sweetheart.”

“I want–” she said, in the second between kisses, pulling him to her with anything her hands could grip. “Cassian.”

“Nes.”

She pressed her hips into him as he kissed down her neck, guiding her head back from where he held her hair with his other hand.

He brought that delicate skin of her throat between his teeth, nipping slightly, but not enough to bruise. She shuddered, exposing herself to him even further as he made his way down to her chest.

He was struck with it then. A taste never would have been enough. He would have found himself on the precipice here, time and time again, caught in a web he’d never be able to escape.

He wasn’t certain he’d ever want to escape.

“I’m taking this off,” he said. His hands circled around to the back of her gown, meaning to undo the laces. 

That was her line drawn in the sand.

Nes jolted, gasping as she broke apart from him and latching onto his wrists with her hands, seemingly remembering who they were and why, exactly, this was a bad idea.

“Wait.” Her hands tightened around his wrists. “Stop.”

He did instantly, pulling back to check on her. Her entire face was flushed, lips glistening. Her eyes were wide.

“Nes?” he asked, softer.

“I-” 

She didn’t have to tell him her heart was hammering. He could sense it, convincing himself he could feel it through her palms.

“Have you done this before?” He had to ask. Given that she didn’t invite anyone in here, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she hadn’t.

But she scowled, thankfully taking away that wide-eyed look, and said, “Of course I have.”

“Ok. Still, we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry that I took liberties.”

He didn’t move a muscle as she leaned back. He monitored her every movement and facial expression, but she’d gone nearly unreadable.

Her hands still held his own with a death grip. With a blink she released them, in turn placing her shaking hands on his chest. 

“It’s getting dark,” the witch said. “You should go.”

It wasn’t getting dark. He’d stayed much longer only two days ago, only going back when the sun dipped behind the line of trees surrounding the clearing.

He didn’t want to go. 

“I should?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

He brought his hands down to her, stroking them softly. Nes tensed and moved back, and he immediately regretted it—doing something that made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. You did nothing wrong. I did want it.”

She still couldn’t look at him.

“Nes,” he said, watching the shudder go through her from him saying her name. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right,” she said, her voice sounding like an echo. “Tomorrow.”

***

When Cassian arrived the next morning, the witch was waiting for him.

He’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning as he thought about their kiss. The way she felt in his arms. How she said his name.

How she stepped away.

The gold of her hair once again made its way into his dreams, and he found himself being awoken by the sound of her name falling from his lips.

Nes.

Something was different today. It was quiet this morning. The chattering was merely a whisper as he left the palace. No humming filled the clearing when he arrived, and the birds didn’t chitter in the way they normally did.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say there wasn’t a soul to be found. But Nes was here, waiting for him. He knew that before he even walked inside.

He ducked his head under the doorframe to find her curled up in a chair by the window, her gaze set on the floor.

“Hi,” he said, offering an awkward smile in an attempt to break the silence.

Nes remained silent, keeping her eyes cast down, bringing her blanket tighter around her.

That uneasy feeling returned. Something was definitely wrong, he could tell. Cassian didn’t think he messed up too badly last night. She’d said she wanted it as he left. He shifted his weight to his other foot as nerves got the better of him.

“About last night—”

“The sword is on the table,” she cut in, not letting him finish. “You can take it.”

A glance confirmed her words. A large broadsword neatly sat on the table, gleaming in a way natural silver didn’t. He opened his mouth to protest, but his throat had gone dry. He couldn’t speak.

This was supposed to be what he wanted. Wasn’t it? It was why he told himself he was coming back every day, even if he knew it was a lie.

“You wanted to be worthy of a princess? Well, there’s the sword. I’ve deemed you worthy.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Silence fell. Then he said, “I don’t understand. Are we not going to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

He took a step forward. “Really?” he asked, with a soft calm. 

Nes glared at him. “I thought this was what you wanted. What other reason could you have for being here?”

Cassian stared at her incredulously. “You know that I’ve been coming here because–”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Don’t. I told you not to do that.”

What had she said that one time? That he would be foolish if she was the person he was coming to see. She had told him. And he’d stupidly gotten attached anyway. Tears threatened to burn in his eyes, and as he stared at the sword, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know how she now haunted his every thought, his every dream?

Her voice went softer, but it was still firm. “Take the sword, Cassian. Present it to the princess. You’ll have everything you’ve always wanted. You’ll have fulfilled your destiny.”

It felt wrong, leaving her. But he met her unflinching eyes one last time. Nothing softened in them. Nothing gave him any indication that she would change her mind.

“This is what you want?”

“I want you to be happy.” She swallowed, and looked away. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Sir Cassian. Go and find it.”

“Cassian,” he said. “It’s just Cassian.”

“Right,” she said. But even as she said it, he knew. His name would never fall from her mouth again. Once he left through that door, she’d never have a reason to say it.

He didn’t want to walk through that door.

“It has been an honor, my lady,” he said quietly, before taking the sword she offered and tearing his eyes from her for the last time.

Cassian walked through the door.

[moongothic]

While I do believe it's likely the reason Dragon never contacted Croc after The Divorce was because things didn't go As Intended (/shit just went Bad) (or they kept their distance for security reasons, not wanting to risk being found out etc)

There is that Funny Alternative that the reason Dragon never contacted Crocodile and warned him about their son having become a pirate with a bounty and having entered the Grand Line, was because Dragon just assumed Crocodile would be able to recognize Luffy right away because "they're so similar" and that it'd be "a nice surprise" if they ran into each other

[mourn-and-watch]

one thing that especially irks me about cullen's so-called redemption is the attempts to redeem him through cole's words.

templars' abuses affected cole so badly it damaged his connection to the fade and his own nature. he was a spirit of compassion and witnessing what was happening in white spire turned him into a killer. he murdered lord seeker lambert in cold blood for what he did and most of the time he doesn't regret it — and then he just. drops the "he's not like the other girls" lines about cullen.

and this is such a lazy and annoying move. another thing that is established about cole is that you particularly can't lie to him — about your real feelings and intentions at least. whatever he states about other characters must be true and it is often used as a tool to deepen the characterizations of the main cast and in cullen's case it is just. blatant apologism. there's literally a banter where cole talks about atrocities commited by the templars and then he adds "oh no but cassandra and cullen aren't like that" and never elaborates. the game itself doesn't elaborate either.

like please don't tell me that the spirit who was shaken by knowledge that an innocent boy can die from starving because his jailors simply forgot about him would look in the eyes of a person who used to be meredith fucking stannard's right hand and still thinks that her methods were just a little too harsh but necessary and justified and say yeah. this guy is such a friend of mages. if only there were more templars like him

[moeblob]

(SLAMS MY OCS DOWN)

I MISSED THEM SO MUCH YOU GUYS

Reynold, the ADHD human that he is, has a very hard time focusing on much of anything and the only way he can be considered "accomplished" in his former line of work (CIA) is because he knew. He knew he had to do the task as fast as possible before he forgot what he was doing.

Now he lives in another world and is basically the trophy husband to the demon lord and Reynold is like "this is amazing I'm adopting the whole entire demon army as our children". And the demon lord is like "you want to adopt my demon army" and Reynold is like "starting with your advisors, yes. those are our daughters now. I love them. I would literally kill for them."

And Sascha, the demon lord determined to NOT ACTUALLY FIGHT PEOPLE, is like please don't kill anyone. And his job is now "take care of the entire demon race and also act as impulse control to one human". Luckily his twin advisors love Reynold too and agree to help keep him in line in the world.

And since idk how much I posted on main and not my OC blog for the advisors, Melo (left) is mute and Lody (right) does the talking. They are able to share what they see with each other because of the pink/yellow eyes acting as like a gateway of sorts. So they're rarely assigned to survey the same area since if they're apart they can see twice as much and report on more in order to aid Sascha. (But at the castle they both like to stick together and trail either Sascha or Reynold)

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[antiqua-lugar]

there has been a bunch of posts recently about the inquisitor being erased by the narrative and a bunch of posts about how this means that the inquisitor can never come back from "being the inquisitor" and I agree

BUT

like it's not going to happen because in the end this is bioware's sandbox and if they decide that the inquisitor is gonna be in veilguard then the inquisitor is going to show up in veilguard even if you think your inquisitor would let the world burn and good riddance

BUT

one could make the argument that because the inquisitor is a symbol, because the inquisitor is so much larger than life, because the inquisitor as an individual doesn't fucking matter, they can leave, because no one knows who they actually are. like it's not without risks but if lavellan paces out and goes back to their clan (or any clan) is anyone going to find them? do people even know what lavellan looks like? did anyone in this chantry-led, shamlen-run institution even bother to pay attention to their vasillin? when cadash or adaar was the herald of andraste in haven all bull had to do was throw some shitty clothes on them as camouflage. when you get to the winter palace, people are surprised about who the inquisitor actually is.

once you disband the inquisition and peace out, how many people can actually pick out cadash out of a line-up when so much about the inquistion has been about erasing everything about them except some vague "idk some dwarf. i think he's a ginger"? like when josephine interviews you she's not doing it to get the story straight, she's doing it to know what to hide, what to emphasize, how to rebuild your whole identity to someone who is not you anymore.

[discoknack]

Kaiju-Lantern Catastrophe

Uhhh

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Me, when Sebastian joins my party for the first time: Okay, this time I'm not going to forget about you, Sebastian. I'm going to make an effort to use you a lot this playthrough so I can better understand you.

Also me, immediately forgetting about Sebastian while finishing Act 2 and making it halfway through Act 3 before I finally notice his Faith quest: ......................Oh. Right. My bad.

[drawnecromancy]

Sometimes a silly bird disguised as a human sits on a dragon's hoard of gold and tries to seduce him.

Community label for it being vaguely suggestive I guess.

Art taglist : @jezifster @isabellebissonrouthier (feel free to ask to be added to the list!)

[moongothic]

On the train of your last ask, what are your thoughts on dragons sexuality?

Personally I think he’s Demi something (more attracted to personality than looks or gender)

Honestly because we don't know that much about the guy it's kind of hard for me to form an opinion, and if Crocodad Real then we're going to find out his orientation eventually (since we gotta find out if that was a contributing factor to the Dragodile Divorce (assuming they're divorced)) so I'm kind of okay with not forming any headcanons, since the headcanon could get thrown out the window

If anything, what interests me is how Dragon's orientation could impact the story-- like when I've discussed the Dragodile Divorce I have mainly focused on speculating how Crocodile would've felt about it, but how Dragon felt about that is interesting too

Because if he's straight then yeah that probably contributed to The Divorce, but how did Dragon feel about it? Learning that the love of his life is now happier than ever before after transitioning and being happy for him, while also losing the version of Crocodile that he fallen in love to begin with? No longer feeling thet draw to him because of the thing that has brought him so much joy and comfort? Knowing that even if they did take down the WG the family Dragon had hoped to have would never come to be, because their relationship would now end? And that it would be on some level his fault, because he's not attracted to Crocodile anymore?

Like even if Dragon took things well and the divorce happened "on good terms", it would've been sad for Dragon too.

But then there's a slightly juicier option, because what if Dragon was bi, but the Divorce happened under unpleasant circumstances (be it Dragon lashing out or things getting violent because he couldn't recognize Crocodile) and he didn't figure it out until it was too late?

Because you'd still have Dragon going through some if not all of those previously mentioned feelings, of having to come to terms with the version of his significant other whom he had fallen in love with no longer existed, the family had pictured in his mind would never become a thing, that those things were be kind of his fault and that he had hurt Crocodile deeply in the process. But then he'd be looking at some news article of Crocodile's most recent heroic stunt, seeing his handsome face with that usual, unbothered expression, and realizing he still loved him? That he still wanted to be with him, wished they were together, even now that Crocodile was a far more handsome man than he was? And then the realization that he's bi hitting him like a fucking truck But it's too late. The divorce already happened. He already hurt Crocodile too deeply. Knowing Croc, he had probably already moved on. There was no fixing it, the relationship was over. At least for now, trying to go see Croc could be dangerous due to the WG and not wanting to risk the WG finding out about them and The Kid and Croc would probably be furious if Dragon even risked that at this point, after what he had done. Oh, and then Crocodile killed thousands of innocent people attempting to usurp a country by manufacturing a civil war. Something Dragon can't forgive. (Not to mention, hearing he had been taken down by their own son... Oof)

But what if despite all that, and not knowing the full circumstances behind what had happened (like the fact that Crocodile didn't know who the hell Luffy was), Dragon still loved Crocodile? What then?

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Look I don't know what the fuck antarctica is.

It's like stuff your ass ain't surviving past though

[ragnars-tooth]

Hiiii tldc fandom it’s time for more of the characters you know for sure <3 (holy balls I did not realise the extent of how many images I had until right now)

Jodie is Tam’s girlfriend who’s in like. Two scenes in the fire eternal. Possibly three. This shocks no one. Anyways this spawned out of the joke thought “ha, what if Jodie was being queer and serious when she called Zanna pretty?” And then I was normal about it all week.

Some of these are kinda b4 period/before b5 but honestly it doesn’t matter. This is gay people in the dragon books, you’re not here for canon compliance.

[universestreasures]

A Dragon's Reservations (Drabble)

Extension / Spinoff Of This Thread With @shachou

"Thanks for helping tuck me in, Tasuku." The youngest Kaiba speaks, offering the other a weak but genuine smile of thankfulness. Even if his friend's efforts were not quite to his preferences (they were a bit too tight), Mokuba still appreciated the effort. "I...I was never quite good at it. I've always had...help with it."

"You're welcome." Tasuku reacts with smile of his own, a hand gripping the door's knob as he slowly began to close it. "Rest well and good night, Mokuba. If you need anything, don't be afraid to call for us. We'll be right there with you."

Yet again, that reminder is given. It's something that Tasuku's made a point to say over the past few weeks his friend's been here. The purpose of it was to sway any doubts the boy had that he was a 'burden' and encourage him to seek help if (or rather inevitably, considering his frequent night terrors) he needed it. After all, he's heard Mokuba beat himself up needlessly enough since his arrival over the idea of being a 'burden', a sight that made his blood boil as much as it made his heart ache because he knew exactly where such things seemed from.

Or rather...he knew exactly from who they stemmed, the very person whose mistakes continued to cause pain to the one he was supposed to protect and cherish, his only remaining family who cherished him despite the blood on his hands and his many sins...

Kaiba Seto.

Upon closing the door to his bedroom that he was letting Mokuba borrow, he moves to go outside. Fresh air was key in helping him calm himself when he could feel himself getting tense, such tension coming from the anger that was practically waiting to rise from his chest. He goes to the roof of his apartment, stopping to look up at the serenity of the beautiful stars and crescent moon as he breathes in and out slowly. Looking at them, especially the moon, always made him feel calmer for some reason, the lights in the darkness that seemed to always surround him in one way or another.

Sadly, they did little to help this time. The more he sat and looked at them, the more the grip of his negative emotions, his anger, his rage, take hold on his heart and mind. Tasuku promised himself he wouldn't show that side of him in front of his friend, for that would just make things worse, but that meant that the effects of all that repressing he had been doing were taking hold now, with those very repressed feelings bubbling back up to the surface that can be visibly seen by the shaking of a clenched fist.

One might think such feelings of intense disdain for someone you've never met before were unbelievable. Despite being friends with Mokuba for about a year now, he's actually never once met his brother directly. Though, that doesn't mean he hasn't ever seen the CEO in person, or more specifically, hasn't ever seen his direct actions and the effect they have on his younger brother.

Even now as he stood there on the roof, his memories of that day were vivid, replaying in his mind like a perfect video recording. It was a key day in his memory, but not for a good reason. For it was the very day he saw Kaiba Seto's ugliness and cruel heart slowly reveal itself, with innocents, including his own kin, being at the mercy of his cruel and twisted 'games'.

--------------------

After several long weeks of searching, he managed to get his hands on what he had been looking for. It was an invitation to the hottest and most exclusive gaming event Domino had seen yet: the opening ceremonies of Kaiba Land, the first theme park of its kind in Japan, hosted by the Kaiba Corporation. Though, it wasn't his joy of games that brought him to seek out an invitation. Instead it was, of course, his work, something that always took precedence even over his own desires. Yes he had been tasked by Commander I to investigate the event that had been surrounded in many rumors that were of interest to the Buddy Police, specifically ones that may pertain to dangerous games having been secretly built in a place meant for children.

Why was he doing this mission solo? Simple. All of the invited guests to the event were children and only children. No adults who were not employees were permitted in. So, Tasuku had no choice but to go it alone, something he was honestly okay with. Him being on his own, while certainly increased the risk, made him able to do his job much easier. Plus, it would help him maintain his cover, considering he was entering this under a different identity.

Thankfully, he managed to cling to the large crowd of kids who rushed into the facility as soon as it opened after having shown his invitation. Being lost in a crowd made him a lot harder to track, ruby hues eying all the suited security men around the facility. If he was to make any moves, he needs to be careful. While he does have Jack as an ultimate last resort to aid him, the last thing either of them wants is to reveal the dragon's existence needlessly. Doing so could cause a disaster with unforeseen consequences.

So, he opted for the strategy to search the facility from top to bottom while everyone was seemingly busy with the opening ceremony. He went from facility to facility to test out each and every game for any potential signs of danger. Much to his surprise and relief, none of the games he looked at had anything out of the ordinary with them in terms of potential hazards. The closest thing was the realism of the regular virtual reality simulator, but there seemed to be some warnings associated with it, at least.

Were the rumors just rumors after all? Tasuku can't be sure. These areas were publically accessible. If there were illegal, dangerous tech, surely they wouldn't put it out in the open. That's when he remembers he has yet to enter the tower where the opening ceremony had been taking place. Could that be where it was?

With a swift turn, he exits the arcade area he had examined and goes towards the tower instead. Apparently, the action was now on the fourth floor, as indicated by a screen outside the stairwell that now displayed 'Death T 4' in progress'. Just the name 'Death T' was enough to set off his instincts that this is what he was looking for, and after taking a moment to climb up the stairs and enter the stands, his suspicions were proven correct almost immediately.

For what he bore witness to was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, a display that would forever be burned into his heart and ignite his righteous green flames of justice.

Tasuku's eyes scanned over the stadium that was erupting in shock, all seemingly focused on the live image of Kaiba Seto, the CEO of Kaiba Corporation. The Buddy Police Boy Wonder was fully aware of who he was due to his reputation in the gaming world. There were some who said he'd never lost a game before in his life. There were also some who said he was responsible for the death of the previous CEO, Kaiba Gozaboru, a rumor no one could verify the truth of.

"I've been waiting for you, Yugi! Good job. I've gotten bored of these amusements."

"Amusements?"

"Take that path to the elevator and rise to the final stage!"

"I will! Don't you go anywhere! You'll get your game all right, Kaiba!"

That's when Tasuku takes a look around the rest of the space, noticing the colossal fight box in the middle. There he sees a taller boy outside of it (who he presumed was this 'Yugi' Kaiba referred to) and a small child on the inside. Judging by it, it seems the younger of the two had just been defeated in a game of some kind, seemingly an obstacle in Yugi's path to advancement.

But...that wasn't just any child in there. That was...

"Kaiba Mokuba, the Capsule Monsters Chess champion...And the very same person Lady Suzuha mentioned she lost contact with six months ago..."

It was one of those things the heiress mentioned to him during one of their recent encounters. She mentioned that if he ever ran into him, as such a thing might happen due to his line of work, to give her an update on his condition. Thank goodness an innocent like her wasn't here to witness this (little did he know such a thing was intentional on the younger Kaiba's part).

"I've felt your pathetic, clinging, loser's gaze...staring at my back for years...I kept telling you and over over, Mokuba...If you play with fire you'll get burned..."

Even though he can't hear Mokuba's reaction due to the box not being mic'd, Tasuku can just see and feel the fear from what his brother said. He knew nothing about the brother's relationship, but that didn't matter to him. As someone who had a very strong sense of family, he very much despised any mistreatment of a family member, blood or otherwise. Just seeing this cruelty got his blood boiling, but it truly exploded in fury at what would come next.

"You understand, don't you? Only the winner is allowed out of that duel box!" A button is pressed, one that seems to activate some kind of 'smoke' inside the enclosed space in which Mokuba was trapped. "A Penalty Game awaits the loser!! That is the Law of 'Death T'!!"

"A Penalty Game?!" The phrase echoes in his mind as his body is paralyzed as the display unfolds. Virtual projections more realistic than those he saw on the simulator came to life and caused the one trapped inside to scream and cower in absolute terror for his life. "This...This must be what our lead was about! If this was the fourth stage, then that means there must have been more of these dangerous games and punishments on the earlier 'Death T' stages!"

He could feel his body temperature rising and his breath heavying as he watched the torture go on, the sight triggering what appeared to be a panic attack. He normally made a point to try hold himself together while on a job, to steel himself so it wouldn't hold him back but...nothing could have prepared him for what he he was looking at. Seeing Kaiba Mokuba defenseless and calling out for help (presumably for his brother) reminds him of his own experiences when he was stranded on that mountain shortly after the Disaster, calling out for his family to save him and bring him home.

If Jack hadn't come to save him that day, he surely would have perished...just like Kaiba Mokuba might if no one comes to save him from his brother's cruel act...

Realizing that fact causes him to try and take action despite his physical symptoms. Anything was better than doing nothing. He ran through the bleachers, shoving past everyone to try and reach the bottom. With his physical prowess, he just might be able to jump off the bottom and reach the center platform. However, he stops at the edge as soon as the voice of someone else rings through, filled with heroic courage.

"Mokuba!!! Mokuba...take my hand!!"

And there the Buddyfighter bears witness to Yugi, a victim in this entire messed-up creation of the CEO of Kaiba Corporation, go in and drag Kaiba Mokuba out, saving his life and sanity in the process. A wave of relief washes through Tasuku at the sight of the two outside the chamber, his heart still racing through his chest. That demonstration right there gave the officer a large amount of respect for the gamer, who saved his opponent from the penalty of his loss of the game between them. That show of sportsmanship and kindness wasn't often seen in situations such as these with high stakes. Muto Yugi is someone he'll personally have to keep his eye on for certain.

As the amethyst-eyed gamer leaves for his fated battle on the next floor, Tasuku shifts his attention back to the robed boy kneeling on the ground, shaking and sobbing after having experienced such a horrific thing at his brother's hands. Watching him in that state causes his hands to curl into fists at his sides, his body now shaking not in panic but instead in sheer anger that was akin to a dragon's as he bores his fangs behind gritted teeth.

"Kaiba Seto...To think you would stoop so low as to bring harm to your own family...And turn games that are supposed to bring people together in friendly competition and fun into nothing more than death traps..."

"I'll never forgive you for this..."

"I'll never forgive you!!!!!"

--------------------

Those words of anger, the ones that echoed his feelings that still remain today, are the last he hears before he is brought back to the present by the golden light of a Buddyfight card. Jack manifests from his pocket before the boy in his mini form, the dragon's golden eyes showing deep concern. Seems he felt the rage in Tasuku's heart too as the officer was spilling it out in waves after having been buried for so long.

"Jack...I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm doing fi-"

"Tasuku, you don't need to hide what you're feeling from me." The dragon cuts the boy off, his words stopping Tasuku's completely. "We're not just buddies, remember? We're family. The day you took me in and accepted me as a part of your own family, your loads became my loads; ones I share with you gladly. So please, please tell me what is on your mind. Although, I have an idea as to what or rather...who it might be."

A sigh escapes the boy's lips. For he knew well there was no arguing when it came to his only remaining family. Deep down, he knew how unhealthy it was to keep these feelings of his bottled up so tightly, wisdom he's given to others in the past to not do. He'd be a hypocrite if he didn't follow his own advice.

"I just...I just can't...I just can't get over the anger I feel when I think about what he's done..."He is clenching his fist now, trying to stabilize himself as he speaks his heart to his most trusted ally. "I don't care if he had a rough past, like Mokuba's said over and over. I don't care if Mokuba forgave him, wanting to try to move forward. No one...No one has the right to emotionally, physically, and psychologically damage their own brother, who did nothing but try to make him happy..."

Everything Mokuba did back then during the time of his separation from Lady Suzuha, all of it had been for the sake of his brother, who ignored and rejected him. He thought that there was no other way to get even an ounce of the happiness and love he once knew unless he also stained his hands. The fact he thought he even had to do such a thing just made Tasuku even more furious. How could anyone be so cruel?

"Then, after it was claimed that he had changed and presumably learned from his past sins, he yells at his brother so harshly and with such animosity to the point of Mokuba running away from home! And for what? Just expressing how he was feeling, like any normal person does? That's not even to mention what he's put so many others through for the sake of his own selfish reasons..."

He has yet to forget about both 'events' Kaiba hosted, 'Death-T' and Battle City, and how they both endangered the lives of innocent multiple times. He's put people into death games. He's kidnapped, lied, and stolen. He's created a trap for dangerous criminals in the form of a tournament that made the entire city a battlefield, without even consulting the Buddy Police. Need he say more?

"Your feelings towards him are understandable, Tasuku. I do not disagree with them. Kaiba Seto has committed actions that are unforgivable. However..." He pauses for a moment, flying over so his golden eyes are looking directly into Tasuku's rubies. "I do think, considering the boy's worsening condition, it might be time to consider a change in our approach to aid him."

"You're talking about what Gao suggested earlier today, aren't you?" He asked, Jack nodding his head in response.

"I understand your reservations about the idea, but...our top priority is to help your friend recover from the nightmares and fear that plague his heart and mind. And if we cannot do so effectively, then we must get the aid of the one who cares for-"

"If he really cared about his brother's well-being, don't you think he would have been here by now to see him?" His words cut off the dragon's, Tasuku's fist continuing to be curled tightly. "Even if he thought he'd be of no help or potentially make things worse, doing something is better than doing nothing at all. And no, sending one of his employees to spy on Mokuba does not count. That's not what Mokuba wants or needs."

"So...you do agree with the notion that the boy needs his brother to truly get through this, then?"

"Yes. We can only do so much without getting to the root of the problem directly."

"Then why did you tell Gao that you disagreed with the idea to begin with?"

"I told Gao that I disagreed with the idea of one of us bringing Kaiba Seto here. I never said I opposed him coming here on his own." Honestly, if he had, this might had been resolved already. "There's a difference between giving someone space and just not taking action. He's clearly staying away because he knows he's the problem, but by doing so, he's not taking responsibility or taking action to try and resolve this. And because of that, Mokuba is now too afraid to even try to contact him, leading to his anxieties and nightmares worsening."

Considering his past experiences, such a reaction from the boy wasn't surprising. He's gotten yelled at for expressing himself before. It only made sense he'd be afraid to do so again, especially after his own actions of running away from his home.

"He needs to be ready and willing to have a true conversation in order to resolve this, not just one to pacify Mokuba and sweep the issue under the rug. That will just make things worse for them both in the future."

This tactic, he suspects, was probably used in the past, considering how both seemingly moved on from the 'Death T' incident so quickly despite its intensity and lingering aftereffects. After all, Tasuku has no doubt Mokuba's recurring nightmares and PTSD symptoms are a consequence of that day. He's heard him almost confirm it himself in what he's mumbled while tossing and turning in his sleep.

"However, to prepare himself accordingly for that, he has his own demons he needs to battle within his heart, just like Mokuba's been doing since he got here. Until he can steel his resolve, win that internal struggle, and come to his own answer that he is ready and willing to share, then it's best he stay far, far away from here. I refuse to have Mokuba suffer any more than he has already..."

"Tasuku..."

Tasuku then moves exists the rooftop to return back inside the apartment, with Jack following suit. After entering the space, he moves to check his friend's phone he had left on the counter to charge. He then picks it up, ruby hues now staring in the face of a photograph of the two brothers that had been made the wallpaper, one of the pair at the construction site for Kaiba Land USA.

"What Mokuba really needs is that big brother he talks so highly of, not a selfish coward who can't own up to his own mistakes or talk things out without resorting to shouting like a child." The internal thought is accompanied by him placing the device down, a hand moving to cross over his heart as he makes yet another silent oath to himself. "And until Kaiba Seto can get his act together and become that person again, it's up to me to fill in that role as best I can in his stead, no matter how long it takes..."

[like-sands-of-time]

Idk this is just personal but Rey being light itself, the balance to bens darkness, etc etc doesn't have to mean she believes the Jedi code? Like,,,, at all? It's actually kind of irrelevant really. If either of them holds any weight on Jedi beliefs it's Ben who studied them for ten years.

This is a girl who for her entire childhood survived. Not like Ben did, but Survived. She went hungry. She went without. She survived it, and came through with the instincts and skills to back her up.

A girl like that, Light and Good as I believe she is, is gonna be a bit less *gasp* *faint* about the concepts surrounding "darkness" and even the concept of death in general. All of them, really.

I don't believe she'd like the Jedi code at all frankly, and find it ridiculously stifling and judgemental and very hypocritical.

I also don't think she'd cry herself to sleep at night about the concept of killing someone. Not someone dying that she cares about but that she killed someone by her own hands. Perhaps that is entirely just me, but her will to survive would be strong. I think that when people throw in her not having etiquette or eating like a pig or not having a formal education in fics it's accurate but done in a sweet way. It's cute. Anything they do is cute, but it's an easy fix type situation.

But how about a Rey who has her own moral code that she sticks to (just like Ben that's familiar !!) And they're both morally grey, one leaning dark and the other leaning light, but definitely meeting in the middle. None of this Rey is a pure maiden saint stuff though you can use those concepts.

She was already a badass with a staff and it's hardly like she had sparring buddies. She Survived. We of course have to assume what that means but I assume that means she's a badass main character who isn't going to pull her punches when it comes to eliminating evil in the galaxy. She's not gonna let rapists or murderers go just because "it wouldn't be right to kill" she's gonna do it herself. I see her and her Light as Mother and vengeance.. willing and able to protect all those she cares for. Which includes Ben btw

[good-beansdraws]

*Looks longingly at my many wips and the 900+ drafts to queue on my main blog, drops some very unfinished fe doodles, then goes to bed* I just feel like sharing a little, ya know?

@edam-shame I have to redo a lot of this turnwheel Alm we've been talking about but this is the early sketch at least lol