#actually the faction leaders so it's one of those things where it's like

[pyxscythe]

What if miny saw lincu in the hoodie and all and thinking that he looked familiar to the panel but didn't dread on it and starts telling lincus story believing that the person they saw was curious since lincu probably stared at it for a while in pure disbelief and pain

There's so much angst potential with concepts like that ,, the way it goes is no one necessarily knows or questions the origin of this world, it just exists how it is and was built up, and there are four faction leaders who really aren't any huge authority figures or anything, they're mostly just silly and build and explode and have fun like everyone else. There are 3 muses (Miny, Bunii, and Bee, the latter 2 being helpers with building, all 3 are artists) and they sort of just had in their minds these "made up" legends of the faction members, each not really being able to explain how they came up with any of it, it sort of came to them in a sense. But they spread these tales to few, not being all that present themselves (iirc I made them architects turned demigods so that's how they "knew", they were there during the war, just sort of dormant beings).

I think the way I imagined it was only the architects who became sentient (aka all the helpers and members who in the actual smp are mods) actually knew of their godhood, Miny wasn't even originally one and was actually given that bit of godhood by Lincu with him being God of Arts. So anyways all that to say only those really had those tales in their heads of the leaders being Gods, they all varied in their own ways, and it's like subconsciously some knew they were Gods but they mostly treated it as just having these legends. Its wonky to explain

BUT ANYWAYS THAT FUCKING TANGENT ASIDE I still adore that concept because it sounds really cool ,, like just imagining no one really putting 2 and 2 together in their minds or just thinking these are made up stories not realizing that to some degree they're true, because one way or another all tales tell of a war. Or just them entirely not recognizing the Gods from the stories or portraits as the faction leaders. That would go crazy

[fenrelmercar]

Rook and Regret

“Rook has nothing to regret, and that’s why they have escaped Prison of Regret.” Is a shit take and I’m going to tell you why.

Let’s start with the definition of what actually is regret. Oxford dictionary tells us that “Regret is a sad feeling because of something that has happened or something that you have done or not done”. The obvious perceived failings of Rook greet us when they land in Solas’ cage: the leader of the second team, the person chosen to undo the wards, and, of course, Varric. Hot takes igniting my need to write this post often claim that Rook bears no fault, so they cannot regret those sacrifices. It happened because of a narrative, fate, “they couldn’t have known”.

Well, let me just lay it out for you–not being guilty of something does not make you less regretful.

Rook can condemn their own actions or not–they can regret not doing something else; not finding another way to stop the ritual, not picking another person or thinking of another plan. Most people regret things they haven’t actually done, and Rook is no different.  

Regret follows Rook even before story of Veilguard starts to unfold. They are a member of a faction on a mission and face a choice — do something reckless and save people, or adhere to your faction’s mode of operation. They throw caution to the wind and it bites their ass, sometimes to the point where their faction wants nothing to do with them, like Shadow Dragon Rook meeting Tarquin after a year and being greeted with “I thought you’d be gone for good.” Upon first arriving at Lighthouse, Rook recalls that moment when they ‘failed’ the mission, and they do have options to admit that they were reckless and their faction was correct for kicking them out, even if they saved people. Does that mean that Rook regrets saving those people? No. They wish they have found a better way, one that did not end up with them being thrown out of their home.

“B-but Varric’s death wasn’t their fault!” you scream at me through the screen. Wasn’t it? As they approached the ritual site, Neve warned the group that the ritual was connected to the statues, and they had to reach it before the last statue activated. Rook made a choice to bring the statue down. Even if Varric says it was an accident, when Solas himself admits that he was losing control of his ritual and didn’t mean for it to happen (he says it during The Last Gambit in banter with Neve)–Rook was the catalyst. Rook brought down the statues, ruined the ritual and threw Solas off balance enough for things to end up this way, hurting themselves and Harding/Neve. Even worse so, if Rook was the one who encouraged Varric to go talk to Solas in the first place. Rook’s regret goes so deep that it gives the means for Solas to blood-magic project Varric into their head and tune out any mentions of his death, and Rook knows this–“Deep down I knew you were dead” they say to Varric in regret prison.

Okay, let’s move on to other possible regrets of Rook in chronological order:

Minrathous or Treviso–I don’t know if I really need to explain this, but. It doesn’t matter that Rook sent another team to the city they didn’t choose, or that they did it without enough information, or maybe they chose their home (because who wouldn’t?). Remember how you felt seeing blighted Treviso, or Shadow Dragons hung in streets of Minrathous? Didn’t you have a feeling of “this is my fault”? Imagine if it’s a Shadow Dragon or Antivan Crow Rook? What if they sacrifice their city? What if they save their city but doom the other? Circumstances forced even Rooks from other factions to sacrifice countless lives for others. There is no climbing out untouched from this morality hole.

The Siege of Weisshaupt–not convincing the First Warden in time. Winging the entire operation while Grey Wardens were dying en masse around them. Shit getting shittier every goddamn second because Rook did not have a team good enough for it. Rook did not plan for any of this. They charged right into the slaughter and lost more than they had gained. That first conversation with the First Warden must be haunting Rook in their sleep. What if they were more convincing? What if they brought proof? Maybe more Wardens would still be fighting today.

Companions–despite Rook already drowning in never ending tasks of trying to get their allied forces ready for the big showdown they are also stuck in a never-ending cycle of helping out their companions, often making world altering decisions for them, because they trust Rook to make the correct choices.

Should Griffons go to the Wardens or to Arlathan? Rook can regret taking away hope from already broken Grey Wardens. They have lost so much–their fortress, their leader, their friends. It just keeps on coming. But if Rook gives griffons to them, are they not denying a better future of griffons and Arlathan? Denying a chance for a better future of the forest and species? They might not regret doing either, but the thought of what could’ve been will haunt them, aka Rook will be regretting what they haven’t done.

Destroy or keep the archive? Do you tell elves to forget and move on or let them reclaim their past, even if it’s potentially dangerous? If you tell Bellara to let it go, Bellara’s voiced regret haunts Rook—she wonders if she should have kept it. Who is she to deny her people their past? But if they keep it, what could the consequences of such knowledge be?

And the list just goes on and on…

In the prison of regrets, Solas tells Rook, “You are not ready to make sacrifices leadership requires”. But they are. They have been doing them since day one. They were thrown into this role and shit just kept piling up and everyone looked at Rook to solve everything, decide everything. Solas molded Rook into someone who could take his place in prison of regrets by inadvertently putting Rook in a position of leadership, by encouraging them to bolster their allies and help their team.

Rook is like Solas, because they were willing to make decisions no one else was willing to do or could do. Rook is a reflection of Solas in his rebellion days–it’s just them and their wits against the world, except that Rook, unlike Solas, was not granted luxury of time. Rook couldn’t sit on their regrets. They did not have a millennium to overthink their decisions. They couldn’t drown themselves in questions of what could have been as deeply as Solas could. It does not mean that Rooks has nothing to regret. It means that Rook acknowledges their regret, faces it and moves on. Because Thedas will not stop falling into ruin and wait for Rook to catch up.

Rook escapes the prison of regret not because they have no regrets, they escape it because they are willing to live with them and move forward instead of going backwards to fix the unfixable.

[phoenixyfriend]

Do you think

Do you think there are sects of Mandalorians that put up pictures of Satine the way people put up pictures of the Virgin Mary

Like those illuminated icons

Part of me is suddenly very convinced that there are people who treat her like Catholics do saints

(I don't actually know what the Catholic angle is. I grew up Orthodox, and iconography was a big part of the divorce of 1054. Like I know that icons aren't a thing for Catholicism but also I've seen like. statues of saints? and there's paintings of Mary by Catholics? so I just threw spaghetti at the wall)

I was thinking about after the Empire rose, and maybe after the glassing.

I'm imagining the people who do it being the children of people who were young but around during the civil war.

Like Sabine and the generation after her.

Where they themselves were of traditional families, and heard stories of the conflicts, but hindsight just had them going "what if we hold up this woman as an icon of peace" and then maybe them, or maybe the generation after them, went "she was our leader, and she is dead and among the stars, and she was a symbol of peace, and let us pray to her."

@jebiknights:

I mean after she dies maybe? I could see her becoming a martyr to the cause but idk I've never gotten the impression she was actually revered But now I'm imagining people praying to Satine's ghost and being like "hey can you do me a solid and tell Tarre/the Manda to help me find my lost head piece" I feel like she'd be more held up as a martyr/revolutionary figure than religious though but maybe that's just me. The type that would get spray painted on alley walls as opposed to prayer cards

Given the ideology Mandalore has around death (ka'ra and whatnot), I feel like there's an overlap there. Like yes she's a martyr and a revolutionary figure, but since she was a leader, she's also sort of like. Ancestral worship But All Of Mandalore Is Her Children.

I'm imagining Satine like… generally she's a revolutionary figure and martyr, but some people took it further, and so she was getting colloquially sanctified by some, and others verging on Let's Make A Religion Out Of This.

This got long, more under the cut.

jebiknights:

I think it's just hard for me to picture her that way with all of the split between factions during her time ruling, and a lot of that was about traditional way of life and connections with religion. I could see her as a subjugated government figure that even those who didn't like her politics might see as a symbol of the sith/the empire trying to take over and then destroy them. I personally just don't see her crossing over into religiousity for a long long while after

I'm coming at this from the perspective of Former Socialist Yugoslavia.

A lot of my parents' generation were actually more religious than their own parents' generation (not my parents, but there were a lot of others who did) because of the overarching normalization of atheism by the government. Being religious was a form of rebellion. In this case, I'm imagining a clinging to the ancestor-worship parts of Mandalorian culture as being the part people embraced in response to the Empire trying to stamp them out overall.

jebiknights:

Oh I didn't mean that they're more or less religious I just didn't think she'd be incorporated into it bc of ya know the civil wars shrugs Or wasn't trying to say I couldn't see it because of less religious? I do think increased religiousity makes sense for the Mando's during and after the empire I guess I'm just struggling bc I'm drawing a line between Important Martyr in current political and religious struggle and "Saint like figure who almost immediately starts a new religion" lol. Cuz I just struggle to see her as the latter but that's just me no shade on her 💜 I think the initial comparison to the virgin Mary really threw me off 😂

Which is. Uh. NGL I was just thinking about the specific element of Having Pictures because Mother Mary was the only one I was sure that Catholics have in their houses. I've been told that it makes more sense to go the Orthodox route since we do iconoclasm a lot more.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuut also like. Yeah a few sects may, if not immediately, go full Main Religious Figure about her. Just give it a few generations.

Farmers as isolated as Din's covert, but Not Armor.

tbf most of this was inspired by Maul's weird hate shrine for her in sw Rebels.

This is what vaguely got me thinking about "Some people tried to canonize Satine."

Anyway, I was thinking in this style:

[dreamersworldduh]

RISKY DECISIONS

• Oliver Queen x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — being an assistant is supposed to be an hell of a job, at least that was how the movies make it seems. Yet somehow it’s the complete opposite for you when you become an assistant to Mayor Oliver Queen.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Hi! Sorry for the delay, I couldn’t choice which fic I wanted to do between Oliver Queen and Nate Jacobs, plus I have my first request that I’m writing, so I did to them all. Enjoy! 😚

You never imagined that living in a place like Star City would lead you to be sitting across from its enigmatic and undeniably handsome mayor, Oliver Queen, on a date of all things. Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them, and this was certainly one of those moments. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd go from an ordinary citizen in a bustling city to sharing an intimate evening with one of its most powerful and mysterious figures. But, as they say, fate works in mysterious ways.

It all began on what you thought was just another ordinary day, one where you were desperately scouring job listings and hoping to find something, anything, that could help pay the bills. As an art major fresh out of college, you'd always envisioned a life filled with creative pursuits—painting, galleries, exhibitions, and maybe even a small studio of your own someday. However, reality had other plans. The bills didn't stop, and your bank account certainly wasn't growing any larger. That's when the job posting for an assistant position in the mayor's office caught your eye.

It wasn't exactly a dream job, but it was stable, well-paying, and honestly, you couldn't afford to be picky. So, you applied, never thinking you'd actually hear back. To your surprise, you received a call within days. A whirlwind of an interview followed—though, admittedly, the moment you saw Oliver Queen walk into the room, you barely remembered what you said. His presence was larger than life: sharp blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, a confident smile that somehow managed to be both charming and intimidating, and the kind of charisma that could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room. By some miracle (or perhaps your desperation showed just enough to make you seem dedicated), you landed the job.

At first, the position was everything you anticipated—and maybe a little less glamorous than you'd hoped. Your days were filled with the predictable rhythm of office life: fetching endless cups of coffee, juggling the mayor's ever-changing schedule, filing documents that seemed to multiply overnight, and acting as a buffer between your boss and the chaotic world of Star City politics. The office buzzed with constant activity, from council meetings to press conferences, all of it demanding your attention. You often found yourself staying late to meet impossible deadlines or untangling last-minute crises that seemed to pop up without fail. It wasn't the creative dream you'd envisioned, but it was stable work that kept your head above water. For that alone, you were grateful.

Still, the job came with its challenges. You quickly learned that Star City's political landscape was as turbulent as its streets. Factions bickered over funding and policies while the media scrutinized every move the mayor's office made. More than once, you found yourself running interference during heated debates or smoothing over tense situations with quick thinking and a calm demeanor. The work was demanding, but it left little room for boredom.

What you didn't expect, however, was how involved Mayor Queen was with his staff—or, to your growing surprise, how often he interacted with you personally. You'd heard the rumors before you took the job: that he was aloof, enigmatic, and often kept to himself. His reputation painted a picture of a man who carried his secrets like armor, a leader whose complicated past made him both a hero and a mystery to Star City's citizens. But the man you came to know was so much more than the headlines suggested.

Oliver had a presence that was hard to ignore. Whether he was striding into the office with his signature confidence or leaning over a conference table to make a point, his sheer charisma filled the room. What struck you most, however, was the surprising warmth behind the stern exterior. He wasn't just the brooding figure the tabloids made him out to be. He had a sharp wit and an easy, disarming sense of humor that could catch you off guard. He took the time to remember the little things—your favorite coffee order, your comments about your artwork, and even the days you looked particularly tired after long hours.

At first, your interactions were brief, professional exchanges—a quick thank-you for a report or a casual nod as he passed your desk. But those fleeting moments gradually grew into something more. Conversations in passing turned into longer discussions during late-night work sessions, where the two of you often found yourselves the last ones in the office. He'd linger, asking questions about your background, your aspirations, and what had brought you to Star City. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn't expected, drawn in by his genuine interest and the way he seemed to truly listen when you spoke.

And then there were the glimpses of vulnerability, the cracks in his armor that revealed the man beneath the title. You could see the weight he carried—the burdens of his position, the responsibility he felt for the city, and perhaps even the ghosts of his past. There were moments when his smile faltered, when his gaze lingered on something unseen, and you realized just how much he gave of himself to lead Star City. It made him more human, more real, and in turn, it made your admiration for him grow.

Before long, you began to notice the subtle shifts in your dynamic. The way his gaze would linger just a moment too long when you spoke. The warmth in his voice when he addressed you by name. The private smiles he seemed to reserve just for you. It was as though he saw something in you that no one else did, and the realization sent a flutter through your chest every time. What had started as an unassuming assistant job was slowly transforming into something far more significant—something you never could have anticipated.

It wasn't long before the dynamic between you and Oliver began to shift in ways you couldn't quite define but couldn't ignore either. At first, it was subtle, so subtle that you wondered if you were reading too much into it. A fleeting glance, a brush of fingers when he handed you a file, the way his voice softened slightly when he said your name—these small, delicate moments began to stand out amidst the chaos of your daily responsibilities. It was easy to dismiss them at first as coincidence, or perhaps just a byproduct of your overactive imagination. After all, this was Oliver Queen, the mayor of Star City—your boss.

But the signs kept coming, and they became harder to rationalize. Like the way his gaze would linger on you during meetings, just a beat longer than it did with anyone else. Or the way his entire demeanor seemed to change when you spoke about your artistic ambitions, a rare spark of curiosity lighting his usually serious eyes. He'd ask questions—not the polite, cursory ones people ask out of obligation, but genuine inquiries that made you feel like he actually cared about what you had to say. And then there were the smiles, small and fleeting but entirely private, as though they were meant for you and no one else.

One moment in particular stuck with you. You'd been working late on a policy briefing, your desk cluttered with papers and a cold cup of coffee. Oliver had come by to check on your progress, leaning casually against the edge of your desk as he skimmed through a draft you'd prepared. When he handed it back, his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against yours. It was barely noticeable, but it sent a jolt through you nonetheless. He'd given you one of those rare smiles then—soft, almost shy—and for a moment, the bustling office around you seemed to fade away.

Still, you told yourself not to read into it. He was your boss, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to create some awkward misunderstanding that could jeopardize the job you'd worked so hard to secure. But the moments kept adding up, like puzzle pieces that refused to fit into the neat, professional boundaries you'd tried to maintain.

And then, one evening, Oliver made it clear that you weren't imagining things. It had been an exhausting day, the kind where the tension in the office was almost palpable. A city council crisis had thrown everyone into overdrive, and by the time the dust had settled, the office was nearly empty, save for you and a few other stragglers finishing up loose ends. You were at your desk, methodically packing up for the night, when you heard his familiar voice behind you.

"Long day," he said, his tone warm but edged with fatigue. You turned to find him standing a few feet away, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up—a rare, unguarded version of the polished mayor the public usually saw. He looked tired, but his gaze was steady, focused entirely on you.

"It's an understatement," you replied with a tired smile, reaching for your bag. You expected him to make a quick comment and head out, as he usually did after late nights like this. But instead, he lingered, his hands resting in his pockets as though he were trying to decide something.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he said finally, his voice low but firm. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability you'd never seen before. You straightened, suddenly very aware of the shift in the air between you.

"Of course," you said, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart began to race.

He took a small step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he began, his words deliberate, as though he'd been rehearsing them. "And I'd like to spend more time with you—outside of work."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the hum of the office fading into the background. His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. There was no mistaking his meaning now, no room for misinterpretation. This wasn't a casual invitation to discuss a project over coffee or grab a quick lunch. This was personal, intimate—a step into uncharted territory.

"Are you... asking me out?" you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft, almost sheepish smile, the kind you rarely saw from him. "Yes," he said simply. "If you're interested."

For a moment, all you could do was stare, your mind racing as you processed the enormity of what was happening. The mayor of Star City, the man who had once seemed so untouchable, was standing in front of you, vulnerable and waiting for your answer.

You agreed, of course—how could you not? But even as you said yes, a thousand thoughts raced through your mind. How had this even happened? How had a job you took out of sheer necessity led to this? As you sat across from Oliver now, his attention focused entirely on you, you couldn't help but marvel at the twists and turns life had taken to bring you to this exact moment.

As the evening unfolded, the boundaries between professional and personal seemed to blur, dissolving into something warm, candid, and deeply human. The weight of Oliver's office—of city budgets, policies, and public appearances—felt like a distant memory. For the first time, the man across from you wasn't Star City's mayor, nor a public figure surrounded by layers of protocol and mystery. He was just Oliver, and his curiosity about your life was genuine in a way that caught you completely off guard.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he spoke, his piercing blue eyes never straying from yours. "What made you choose art?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with a genuine interest that made your heart skip.

At first, you hesitated. It wasn't often someone asked about your passions with such sincerity, and you weren't sure how much to share. But there was something in the way he waited—patient, attentive, and utterly engaged—that made you feel safe enough to open up. You spoke about how art had always been your refuge, a way to process the chaos of life and transform it into something meaningful. You told him about the quiet joy of sketching in a sunlit room as a child, the long hours spent perfecting your craft, and how your dream of making a living from your passion had always seemed just out of reach.

Oliver nodded thoughtfully as you spoke, his expression shifting between admiration and understanding. He asked questions that went deeper than surface-level curiosity: What inspired you? What challenges had you faced? What did you hope to achieve? It wasn't just polite conversation; it was as though he wanted to piece together every fragment of what made you who you were. His attention made you feel seen in a way that few ever had, and the ease with which the words flowed from you surprised even yourself.

Then it was his turn. Slowly, carefully, he began to share pieces of himself—pieces you'd only glimpsed through the carefully curated image of Oliver Queen the public knew. He spoke of his years away from Star City, the pain of losing people he loved, and the weight of the mistakes that had shaped him. His voice carried a quiet intensity as he described the sense of purpose he had found upon returning home, the drive to rebuild a city he felt responsible for.

"I never thought I'd end up here," he admitted, leaning back slightly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Running a city, leading people—it wasn't part of the plan. There were times I didn't even think I'd make it through the day, let alone find a reason to keep going. But Star City... this place, these people, they gave me that reason."

His honesty was raw, vulnerable, and it struck a chord deep within you. It was one thing to admire him as a leader, a symbol of resilience for the city, but hearing the weight of his struggles made him feel more real, more human. He wasn't just the polished figure on campaign posters or the commanding presence in a boardroom—he was someone who had fought to piece himself back together, someone who had chosen to carry the burdens of an entire city on his shoulders.

Of course, it wasn't all heavy confessions and heartfelt exchanges. This was Oliver Queen, after all—a man whose charm was practically legendary, a weapon he wielded with precision even now. Throughout the night, moments of levity broke through, lighthearted and flirtatious in a way that left you both blushing and grinning.

"You have this way of pulling people in," he said at one point, his lips curving into a sly smile. "It's not just your art—it's the way you see the world. It's captivating."

You laughed, trying to brush off the compliment even as your cheeks warmed. "That's rich coming from you," you teased. "I'm sure you've had plenty of practice captivating people."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe," he admitted, his gaze locking with yours, "but that doesn't make this any less real."

The weight of his words hit you like a jolt. It was playful, yes, but there was an unmistakable sincerity beneath the flirtation. He wasn't just flattering you; he meant every word, and the realization left you momentarily speechless.

And then there were his eyes. You'd always thought they were striking, but tonight, they were utterly mesmerizing. In the intimate glow of the room, they seemed to hold a depth and warmth that drew you in completely. There was an intensity in the way he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world, the only thing worth his attention. You found yourself hanging on his every word, not because he was Oliver Queen, the mayor, but because of the way he made you feel: seen, valued, and undeniably alive.

By the time the conversation began to wind down, you glanced at your watch in surprise. Hours had slipped by without you even noticing, the world outside fading into irrelevance. You weren't sure what the future held—what this connection would mean or where it might lead—but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the man in front of you, the shared laughter and confessions, and the undeniable spark that had taken you both by surprise.

Your relationship with Oliver had evolved into something that neither of you could easily define, but it was becoming clear to both of you that the lines between personal and professional were growing increasingly blurred. You found yourselves spending more and more time together—not just outside of work but during long hours in the office as well. Though you both tried to maintain a semblance of professionalism in front of others, it was becoming harder to keep up appearances. Especially when Oliver seemed determined to test those boundaries every chance he got.

One afternoon, you were in his office, helping him sort through a mountain of paperwork that needed his signature or review. The large space, usually a hub of activity, was uncharacteristically quiet, with most of the staff out to lunch. You sat comfortably in one of the plush lounge chairs positioned across from his desk, your legs crossed as you sifted through a stack of documents. Oliver was seated behind the desk, but you couldn't help noticing that his attention wasn't exactly on the papers in front of him.

"Okay, so this one is for the new community center funding," you explained, glancing up at him briefly before returning to the next item in the pile. "And this one is for—Oliver, are you even listening?"

He didn't respond, not really. Instead, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you in a way that made your stomach do a little flip. You furrowed your brow, confused, and a little exasperated by his lack of focus.

"Oliver?" you prompted again, your tone carrying a hint of warning. That's when he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back and rounding the desk with a purposeful stride.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity as you tilted your head to look up at him.

Still, he said nothing. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours before firmly taking it in his grasp. Your heart skipped a beat as he gently tugged you to your feet, leading you behind the desk. Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, he dropped back into his chair, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion.

"Uh, no, sir," you said quickly, shaking your head even as your cheeks flushed with heat. "This is definitely not happening. Do I need to remind you that your sister, who also happens to be my boss, would kill me if she saw me sitting on the big boss' lap?"

Oliver threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling the room and sending a shiver down your spine. "Relax," he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands rested lightly on your hips. "Everyone's out to lunch. We have the whole office to ourselves."

As if to further his point, he leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against the side of your neck in a way that made your resolve falter. You wanted to protest, to remind him of the risks, but his charm—and the warmth of his touch—was dangerously persuasive.

"Oliver..." you began, your tone meant to be scolding but coming out far weaker than you intended. He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying how easily he was unraveling your composure.

"You worry too much," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with mischief. "You work hard, you're brilliant at what you do, and you deserve to take a little break every now and then."

His lips pressed another soft kiss to your neck, and you felt your resolve slipping further. You glanced toward the office door, half-expecting someone to barge in despite Oliver's assurances that you were alone. But no one came, and for the moment, it was just the two of you in the quiet, sunlit office.

"Fine," you relented, though your tone carried a mix of exasperation and amusement. "But if anyone walks in, you get to explain this."

His grin widened, and he leaned back in the chair, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt protective and intimate all at once. "Deal," he said simply, his voice low and satisfied.

For a few stolen moments, the world outside the office seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your bubble of shared laughter, quiet teasing, and the unmistakable spark of something neither of you could quite put into words.

Suddenly, Oliver's lips claimed yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was heated, passionate, and filled with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs. His hands, firm and commanding, cupped your face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart pound wildly. The world around you blurred and disappeared, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the electricity crackling between you.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Oliver's hands slid down to your waist, guiding you with a confidence that left no room for second-guessing. With a slight shift, he maneuvered you to straddle his lap, his strength evident as he adjusted your position as though you weighed nothing at all. Your knees pressed into the soft leather of his chair as you braced yourself on his shoulders, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

His hands found their way to your hips, gripping you firmly as though grounding you in the moment. But he didn't stop there. His fingers moved lower, kneading your curves with a mix of control and reverence, until they rested on the swell of your ass. His touch was possessive, his palms squeezing with a deliberate pressure that sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your body pressed closer against his, and that's when you felt it— his dick—hard, undeniable, and pressing against you with a need that matched the fire in his kiss. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as he tilted his hips slightly, guiding you against him with a motion that made the heat between you both nearly unbearable. His hands urged you to move, rolling your hips against his in a slow, deliberate rhythm that left no doubt about his desire for you.

The friction was electric, a spark that ignited something primal within you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your lips parting to let him take the lead as his kiss grew deeper, more consuming. His tongue teased yours, each movement of his lips and hands drawing you further into the whirlwind of his passion.

"Oliver..." you murmured breathlessly against his lips, your voice barely audible. But he didn't stop. If anything, your quiet plea only seemed to fuel him further. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave you tingling, and he pressed you down harder against him, making sure you felt every inch of him.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at you with a gaze that burned with both desire and something deeper, something more tender. It wasn't just lust—it was connection, raw and unfiltered, as though the barriers between you both had finally shattered.

In that moment, there was no office, no mayoral responsibilities, no rules or consequences. There was only Oliver, his body against yours, his hands guiding you, and the all-consuming pull that neither of you could resist.

Your fingers moved almost instinctively, as though they had a mind of their own, reaching up to loosen Oliver's perfectly knotted tie. The soft silk slipped through your fingers, and with each tug, you felt a thrill rush through you at the sight of his reaction. Oliver's lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes glinting with delight as he watched you work. There was something utterly magnetic about his gaze, the way it locked onto you with unrelenting focus, making you feel like you were the only person in his world at that moment.

"Taking charge, are we?" he teased, his voice low and rich with amusement, though the heat in his tone betrayed just how much he was enjoying this.

You didn't respond, not with words at least. Instead, you let the tie fall free, the fabric sliding between your fingers as you dropped it onto the desk behind him. The small act felt bolder than it should have, but the way his smile deepened, his sharp jawline relaxing just slightly, made your pulse quicken.

Your fingers hesitated for just a beat before moving to the top button of his crisp white shirt. As you slipped it free, your fingertips brushed lightly against the warm skin of his chest, and you felt him draw in a slow, deliberate breath. The air between you seemed to crackle, the quiet tension growing with every passing second. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Encouraged by the way he was watching you, you continued. One button became two, then three, and with each flick of your fingers, more of his chest was revealed. The smooth, taut skin beneath his shirt was a distraction all its own, and the heat radiating from his body only seemed to amplify the electricity between you. His collar loosened, exposing just a hint of his collarbone, and you couldn't help but let your fingertips trail lightly against the edge of the fabric as you worked your way downward.

Oliver's hands moved to rest gently on your hips, his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. "You're full of surprises," he murmured, his voice quieter now, softer, but no less filled with that unmistakable heat. His smile had turned from playful to something deeper, something laced with admiration and desire.

As you undid the next button, the edges of his shirt began to fall open, revealing more of his toned chest, and you couldn't help but let your fingers linger for a moment, brushing against the smooth lines of his skin. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, and his eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something far more intense.

You were acutely aware of the closeness between you, the way his breath mingled with yours as you leaned closer, your fingers still working on the remaining buttons. The quiet intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, each small movement drawing you both deeper into uncharted territory. With every undone button, every fleeting touch, the barriers between you seemed to fall away, leaving only the undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

Oliver's lips crashed against yours with renewed intensity, his kiss deep and commanding as he lifted you effortlessly by your legs. You barely had time to gasp before he was standing, his strong arms supporting you as if you weighed nothing, and placing you on the cool, polished surface of the desk. The sudden shift in position sent a rush of heat through you, but practicality took over for a brief moment as you broke the kiss to hurriedly push the paperwork to the side.

The sound of the papers scattering across the desk made him chuckle, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Really?" he teased, his voice low and filled with amusement.

"Shut up," you shot back playfully, grabbing his face and pulling him back into another kiss before he could say anything else. Your lips silenced his laughter, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. The kiss was fiery and relentless, leaving you breathless as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your mouth.

Then Oliver broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as his lips trailed down your jawline and onto your neck. His hot breath sent shivers racing down your spine, and the scrape of his stubble against your skin made your heart race. His hands, steady and deliberate, found the buttons of your shirt, and you felt the subtle tug as he began to undo them one by one. There was no rush in his movements—each button was undone slowly, almost torturously, as though he wanted you to feel every second of the moment. His lips followed the path of his fingers, brushing against the newly exposed skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your hands, seemingly acting of their own accord, moved to his waist. You fumbled slightly as you found his belt buckle, your fingers trembling with a mix of anticipation and urgency. The clink of the metal as you unfastened it filled the quiet space around you, and you wasted no time pulling the zipper of his tailored pants down.

The pants slipped down his hips, falling into a crumpled heap around his feet, revealing a pair of tight black briefs that left very little to the imagination. Your breath hitched as your eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent bulge straining against the fabric, impossible to ignore. The sheer size of him made your pulse quicken, and a faint blush rose to your cheeks as your gaze lingered. He was rock-hard, his dick was pressing against the material, begging to be freed from its confines. The sight alone was enough to make your thighs press together, a rush of heat pooling low in your abdomen.

Oliver caught the way you were staring, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "See something you like?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement and desire as he continued working on the last few buttons of your shirt.

You didn't answer—words felt unnecessary. Instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing over the waistband of his briefs, your touch tentative yet deliberate. The sensation of his hard length beneath your fingertips made him exhale sharply, his movements pausing briefly as though savoring the contact. The tension between you was palpable, every touch, every glance fanning the flames of a fire that had been building for far too long.

With a deliberate tug, you slid Oliver's briefs down, revealing him in all his glory. His nine-inch dick sprang free, thick, hard, and pulsing with need. The sight of him, fully aroused, made your breath hitch, your eyes lingering for a moment as you took him in. You bit your lip, a mixture of nervous anticipation and sheer desire coursing through you, before glancing up to meet his eyes. The way he looked at you—raw, hungry, and utterly captivated—only fueled your confidence.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand on his chest and gave him a gentle push, urging him back into his chair. He complied willingly, sinking into the plush leather, his gaze never leaving yours. His lips curled into a faint smirk, but there was a flicker of tension in his jaw as though the anticipation was almost too much for him.

You slowly sank to your knees in front of him, your hands trailing down his thighs as you positioned yourself between them. The power dynamic had shifted slightly now, the usually confident and composed Oliver watching you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair as he waited for your next move.

Your hand reached out to wrap around the base of his shaft, your fingers barely managing to encircle his impressive girth. His skin was warm to the touch, the velvety smoothness contrasting with the hardness beneath. You gave him a tentative stroke, marveling at the way his body responded to you, the way his hips shifted slightly at your touch.

Leaning forward, you let your tongue dart out, flicking it lightly against the head of his dick. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, and the faint groan that followed sent a thrill rushing through you. Encouraged, you let your tongue trail along the length of him, your movements slow and deliberate as you tasted him for the first time. The salty, masculine flavor was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but savor every inch.

"God," Oliver murmured, his voice rough and strained. His hands twitched on the armrests, as though fighting the urge to grab you and take control. But he didn't—he let you set the pace, his trust in you evident in the way he surrendered to the moment.

With one last teasing lick, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, but you relished the challenge, the way he filled you completely. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you began to move, your tongue swirling around him with each stroke.

Oliver's reaction was immediate. His head fell back against the chair, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're... amazing," he managed to say, his voice heavy with pleasure. His hands left the armrests, one of them tangling in your hair as though he needed something to anchor himself.

You glanced up at him as you worked, his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The sight of him, undone and vulnerable, sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through you. You adjusted your angle, taking him deeper, and the way his grip tightened in your hair told you exactly how much he appreciated it.

The rhythm you set was slow at first, deliberate and teasing, but as his moans grew louder and his hips began to move in sync with you, you quickened your pace. The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure, the quiet groans and gasps that made it clear you had him completely under your control. Every movement, every flick of your tongue, every pull of your lips was designed to drive him closer to the edge—and judging by the tension in his body, you were succeeding.

Suddenly, you pulled away, letting his length slip from your lips as you caught your breath. The moment lingered, both of you flushed and panting, the heat between you almost unbearable. Without a word, you rose to your feet, your movements deliberate, your eyes locked onto Oliver's. His gaze followed you intently, dark and filled with desire, as though he could hardly wait to see what you'd do next.

Your hands moved to your belt, the faint sound of the buckle clicking open breaking the tense silence in the room. Slowly, purposefully, you slid the leather strap free and let it drop to the floor. Oliver's lips parted slightly, his chest heaving as he watched you with rapt attention. You moved to your pants next, unbuttoning and unzipping them with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to pool at your feet. With one final motion, you slid your briefs down, freeing yourself completely.

Your length sprang free, hard and ready, the cool air sending a slight shiver down your spine. Oliver's eyes flickered down, his gaze darkening even further as he took you in. A low, appreciative growl escaped his lips, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he looked at you, his hunger evident in every line of his body.

Without hesitation, you climbed back onto his lap, straddling him. Your thighs pressed against his hips as his strong hands immediately found their place on your waist, gripping you possessively. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, the pressure grounding you as you shifted into place.

Oliver let out a guttural groan as your length grazed against his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. The heat and hardness of his arousal pressed against yours, the friction intoxicating as you rolled your hips slightly. The faint slickness between your bodies only heightened the sensation, and you couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped your lips as your movements grew more deliberate.

"Damn," Oliver muttered, his voice rough and low as he tilted his head back slightly, his grip on your waist tightening. His usual composure was gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered desire. "You're going to make me cum."

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for your breath to ghost against his ear. "That's the idea," you teased, your voice soft but dripping with mischief.

Oliver growled again, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly. With an ease that spoke to his strength, he lifted you slightly, aligning you above him. The heat of his length pressed against your hole, and you felt a pulse of anticipation ripple through you. He held you there for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle, a stark contrast to the raw desire in his gaze. His hands steadied you, his touch a perfect mix of control and care.

You nodded, your lips parting as your breath hitched. "Always," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

With that, Oliver guided you down slowly, the pressure building as he pushed against you. The stretch was intense, but his firm, steady hands on your hips kept you grounded, helping you adjust inch by inch. The combination of his strength and gentleness left you breathless, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way he seemed to read your body so effortlessly.

As you sank lower, the feeling of him filling you completely sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at his shoulders for support. Oliver let out a deep, satisfied groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he finally buried himself within you. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation as you both paused, letting the raw, intimate connection settle over you..

Oliver's lips claimed yours once more, a kiss that was deep and fervent, filled with passion that left you breathless. His hands remained firmly on your hips, his grip strong and steady, guiding your movements as you began to lift yourself slowly. The sensation of him inside you was intense, every inch of his length pressing against you in a way that made your entire body tremble.

You moved cautiously at first, rising up just enough for the stretch to ease before sinking back down, taking him in again. The friction was exquisite, a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your breath hitch with every motion. Oliver groaned against your lips, the low, guttural sound reverberating through you and spurring you on. His fingers dug into your hips, not enough to hurt but enough to ground you, to remind you of the control he still held even as he let you set the pace.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, you gasped for air, your hands braced against his shoulders for balance. His gaze met yours, piercing and filled with a hunger that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, his tongue teasing yours as your movements grew more confident, more fluid. Each rise and fall of your body sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the connection between you both deepening with every thrust.

Oliver's head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as a groan escaped him. "You feel... so damn good," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. The praise only fueled you, making you move faster, your hips rolling as you adjusted to the rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rode him, the heat radiating from his skin. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer against him as if he couldn't bear to have even the slightest bit of space between you. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Oliver..." you gasped, the sound of his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan. He responded with another low growl, his hands gripping you tighter as he began to meet your movements, thrusting up to match your rhythm. The chair creaked beneath you both, the quiet sound lost in the symphony of your ragged breaths and the unmistakable sounds of your bodies moving together.

Each motion brought a fresh wave of heat, the pressure building with every rise and fall. The connection between you was raw and consuming, the kind of intensity that blurred the world around you until there was nothing left but him—his touch, his kiss, and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

Oliver's lips found yours again, his kiss searing and desperate, as if he needed to feel every part of you, to lose himself completely in the moment. And you let him, your movements growing bolder, faster, as you gave yourself over to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure and passion that bound you both together.

You never imagined yourself in a situation like this—having sex in an office, no less the mayor's office—and with the mayor himself. The fact that Oliver Queen, your unofficial boyfriend, was the one making you unravel so completely felt like something out of a fever dream. But here you were, straddling him in his plush leather chair, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The taboo nature of it all—the high-powered setting, the risk of someone walking in—only seemed to heighten the intensity, making every sensation feel sharper, more electrifying.

The thought of the unlocked door barely crossed your mind. If it had, you didn't care enough to stop. The pleasure coursing through you was too overwhelming, too consuming, to let the fear of being caught disrupt the moment. Oliver's hands gripped your hips possessively, guiding you as you moved, his strength grounding you even as your world felt like it was spinning out of control.

His head tilted back slightly, exposing the sharp angle of his jaw as he groaned deeply, the sound echoing through the otherwise empty office. His usually composed and polished demeanor had completely unraveled, leaving behind only the raw, passionate man beneath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered—sent a rush of heat through your body.

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice rough and low, each word dripping with sincerity and desire. His praise sent a jolt of pleasure through you, spurring you to move faster, to take him deeper, to draw even more sounds of pleasure from his lips.

The documents behind you probably held the future of Star City in their inked words, but they were the farthest thing from your mind. All you could focus on was the way Oliver's hands explored your body, the way his lips occasionally captured yours in a searing kiss, the way his dick filled you completely with every movement.

The faint hum of city noise from the windows seemed a distant backdrop to the symphony of your shared breaths, quiet moans, and the creak of the chair beneath you. The unlocked door stood as a silent reminder of just how risky this was, but it only added to the thrill. Anyone could walk in—his other assistant, a council member, even Thea—and yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop.

The sheer recklessness of the moment made it all the more exhilarating. The polished, professional space of the office felt almost surreal as a backdrop to something so intimate, so primal. This was the same place where press conferences were planned and city policies were crafted, and now it bore witness to a completely different kind of connection—a connection that was raw, electric, and undeniable.

You hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected to find yourself in a whirlwind romance with Star City's most powerful man. Yet, as you moved together, his hands gripping you tighter, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, you realized you wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Locked door or not, the passion between you was too powerful, too consuming, to be denied.

Suddenly, Oliver's eyes darkened with a new intensity, a spark of determination flickering across his face. Without a word, he tightened his grip on your hips, and in one fluid motion, he stood, his incredible strength evident as he lifted you effortlessly from his lap. The movement made you gasp, your body clinging to his as his dick stayed buried deep inside of you, the sensation making your head spin.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he turned and laid you down flat on the cool, polished surface of his desk. The contrast between the hard surface beneath you and the heat radiating from his body was electric, sending a shiver racing down your spine. Papers and folders scattered to the floor, forgotten in the haze of passion, as Oliver positioned himself over you, his hands firm and commanding as he held your legs in each of his hands.

He pushed your thighs apart, lifting your legs slightly to give himself the perfect angle. The possessiveness in his touch sent a thrill through you, making you feel utterly exposed yet completely safe at the same time. His grip was steady, his fingers pressing into your skin as he adjusted your position, and you couldn't help but marvel at the raw power in his every movement.

Without hesitation, Oliver began to thrust into you, his pace quickening with a new fervor that left you gasping for breath. The desk creaked slightly beneath the force of his movements, the sound mingling with the quiet moans and gasps that spilled from your lips with every powerful stroke. Each thrust was deliberate, his hips snapping against you with a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"God, you feel so good," Oliver groaned, his voice rough and strained, every word dripping with raw desire. His gaze flickered between where your bodies were joined and your face, his expression a mix of concentration and unrelenting hunger. His intensity was overwhelming, consuming, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Your hands instinctively reached out, gripping the edge of the desk for support as his thrusts grew deeper, harder, the angle sending shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. The fullness of him, the way he moved with such precision, made your head fall back, your lips parting in a breathless moan. Oliver leaned over you slightly, his strong hands keeping your legs steady as he drove into you with a pace that bordered on relentless.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of desire that drowned out everything else. Each thrust sent the desk sliding ever so slightly against the floor, a subtle reminder of the raw power behind Oliver's movements. His hands shifted slightly, his grip tightening as he adjusted the angle again, hitting a spot that made your entire body arch in response.

"Oliver!" you cried out, his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan as pleasure coursed through you like fire. He grinned at the sound, his usual smirk replaced with something darker, more primal.

"I love hearing that," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly as his pace quickened even further. His fingers dug into your thighs, anchoring you to him as he drove you closer to the edge. Each thrust was purposeful, each movement designed to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body, and you couldn't stop yourself from surrendering completely to him.

The desk beneath you seemed almost insignificant compared to the connection between you both, the way he moved, the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The vulnerability of your position, the strength of his control—it was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly perfect.

The pressure in your body had been building steadily, each thrust of Oliver's hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of the desk as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, making your entire body tremble. The intensity was almost too much, each wave of sensation crashing over you faster than the last, until you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

With one final thrust, the tension inside you snapped. Your back arched off the desk, your head falling back as a guttural moan escaped your lips. Heat rushed through you, your cum spilling out in hot, pulsing streams against your stomach, the release leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. The slick warmth spread across your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the office. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.

Oliver slowed his movements for a moment, his gaze dropping to your stomach, where your cum glistened against your skin. His lips curled into a satisfied smile, the dark, hungry gleam in his eyes telling you just how much he enjoyed watching you come undone beneath him.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough and low, filled with both admiration and desire. But he wasn't done yet.

His hands tightened their grip on your legs, holding you firmly in place as he resumed his thrusts, this time with a newfound urgency. His movements grew faster, more erratic, the sound of his hips snapping against you filling the room as he chased his own release. The sight of you, still trembling from your climax, seemed to spur him on, his breathing ragged and heavy as he drove into you with relentless intensity.

The raw power of his movements left you gasping, your body still hypersensitive from your own pleasure. Each thrust sent another jolt through you, the rhythm pushing you to the edge of overstimulation even as it brought him closer to his peak. His head fell forward slightly, his jaw clenched, and his hands flexed against your skin as his pace quickened.

"God," he growled through gritted teeth, his voice rough and strained as the tension in his body built. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his muscles taut as he edged closer and closer. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a fiery intensity that made your breath hitch, and you knew he was seconds away from unraveling completely.

With one final, powerful thrust, his body tensed, his head tilting back as he let out a deep, guttural groan. His release came in hot, pulsing waves, filling your hole completely as his hands gripped you tightly, as though anchoring himself in the moment. The warmth of him, the way his body trembled slightly as he came, left you breathless all over again. His chest heaved with the effort, his gaze slowly returning to yours, softened now with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something intimate.

As the tension eased from his body, Oliver leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the intensity of the moments before. "You're amazing," he murmured against your mouth, his voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure. The tenderness in his tone made your heart flutter, a perfect end to the wild, exhilarating ride you had just shared.

Suddenly, the faint murmur of voices drifted through the office door, snapping you out of your blissful haze. Your head whipped toward Oliver, your eyes wide with panic.

"Oh shit," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Oliver, ever calm under pressure, smirked slightly and grabbed your hand. "Come on," he said, tugging you down toward the space under the desk.

"This is not gonna work," you hissed, glancing at the scattered papers strewn across the floor—the remnants of your earlier passion—and the very visible evidence of what had just transpired. Your heart pounded as the sound of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable clack of heels.

The door creaked open, and you froze, crouched under the desk with Oliver. The sound of heels clicking against the floor sent a chill down your spine as the familiar voice of Thea Queen, Oliver's sister and your boss, echoed through the office.

"Ollie?" she called out, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

From your vantage point, you could see her shadow moving closer, her figure pausing as she took in the mess you'd left behind. Papers were scattered across the desk and floor, and—oh no—your pants and briefs were still in plain sight, lying in a heap next to Oliver's discarded clothing. You could only imagine the look of horror that must be dawning on her face as she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, Oliver!" Thea exclaimed, the disbelief in her voice palpable. "If you're going to have sex in your office, the least you could do is lock the damn door!"

You turned to Oliver, glaring at him with an expression that screamed, I told you so! He met your gaze with a sheepish grin and shrugged, mouthing, "Oops."

"Duly noted," Oliver replied aloud, his tone surprisingly casual for someone caught in such a compromising position. His calmness would've been impressive if you weren't on the verge of wanting to strangle him.

From her position above the desk, Thea sighed loudly, clearly exasperated. "Unbelievable," she muttered before she turned toward the door. But before leaving, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, and tell Y/N when you're both...dressed that those papers still need to be on my desk by the end of the day. Got it?"

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. "Gotcha," you managed to reply, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

With one final huff, Thea walked out, but not before locking the door behind her. The sound of the lock clicking into place was strangely reassuring, though it did nothing to ease your mortification.

As the silence returned, you turned to Oliver, who was now sitting back on his heels under the desk, a smug smile plastered across his face. "See? Everything's under control," he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, whatever," you replied, shaking your head as the two of you began gathering your clothes and the scattered papers. Despite the embarrassment, you couldn't deny the absurdity of the situation—or the fact that you wouldn't trade it for anything.

[maspers]

I feel like those of us in the Cosmere fandom don't appreciate how the Stormlight Archive isn't a murder mystery.

(Well okay there's a little bit of one in Oathbringer but we aren't talking about that)

It could have been so easy for the death of Gavilar Kholin to have been a murder mystery. Let's look at the scenario, shall we? There's a big meeting and party, where peace is supposed to be declared, and then the King dies. Say we DIDN'T know whodunnit. Gavilar's death haunts the narrative, and every subplot in the story soon ties back to that single driving question of "Who Killed Gavilar Kholin?". Over the course of the story, we've seen the layers slowly peeled off, one by one, revealing a whole bunch of suspects.

There's Dalinar, the King's brother, seemingly a depressed drunkard but was once known a deadly warrior and general.

There's Sadeas, the highprince who is seemingly loyal to the king but is otherwise a backstabbing slimeball.

And there's another highprince, Amaram, who was talking with Gavilar for quite a while earlier in the day.

Jasnah, the King's heretical and highly intelligent daughter, and...

Also the person who hired Liss, an actual assassin, to spy on the event and possibly kill someone else.

Then there's Elhokar, the King's incompetent son who is nonetheless next in line for the throne.

And Elhokar's hedonistic wife, Aesudan, who was apparently enough of a problem that Jasnah was planning on killing her.

Speaking of wives, the King's own wife Navani is soon revealed to be cunning in her own right... and angry with her husband.

Dalinar's sons, Adolin and Renarin, don't seem to have been in attendance, but considering everyone else in the family was there there's no reason they couldn't've been around as well and nobody mentioned it.

There's Eshonai and the other Parshendi drummers, a.k.a. the opposing faction. Eshonai in particular seems to be dangerous.

And her sister, Venli, is also dangerous, was also present, and probably wasn't supposed to be.

At least four of the legendary Heralds are soon revealed to be present as well. The King was planning on betraying Kalak and Nale, Jezrien was drinking with Dalinar, and Shalash was defacing the artwork.

Taravangian, the seemingly weak and compassionate King of Kharbranth who secretly is planning on orchestrating a LOT of murdering.

There's the mysterious "Thaidakar", leader of the Ghostbloods who Gavilar himself thought was the one responsible for killing him.

Since it's a Cosmere work and we didn't yet know Hoid couldn't hurt people, it would be easy to assume he's an available suspect as well.

Gavilar could have even committed suicide, as some part of an elaborate scheme.

A huge assortment of servants and partygoers, all of which could have been the killer. Not to mention the spren (and a seon!), who are soon revealed to not necessarily be as mindless as they seem.

Literally anyone else in the story becomes fair game at first glance. Even though she definitely wasn't there at all, Shallan Davar is revealed to have history with that particular night as well. You can keep going and connect everyone to the murder somehow, at least at first.

And lastly Szeth-son-son-Vallano, a mysterious Shin man in white, seen roaming the halls with a very bizarre sword.

Of course, we all know what happened. It was Szeth, in the King's chambers, with the honorblade. And he did it on the orders of the Parshendi. There's no whodunnit, or even a howdunnit (and even the whydunnit is only partially hidden from the reader, Jasnah's POV reveals Eshonai and the other Parshendi were pretty upfront about why they did it). There's no ambiguity, the death is merely a spark that kicks off the plot into motion.

"The Mysterious Murder of Gavilar Kholin" would have been a crutch. It would have been so easy for Sanderson to use it as a backup sideplot, supporting the other stories and keeping things tied together. There's an AU out there where Kaladin ends up being the amateur detective who puts the last piece together and confronts Szeth in an epic battle in the sky. That could have happened. But it didn't.

Brandon Sanderson does not need to rely on a murder mystery to keep his story standing. Regardless of whether it was intentional or not, he had enough faith in his narratives to make them stand on their own, moving forward beyond the death of one pathetic man. The Stormlight Archive is not about how people die, it's about how people choose to live. So it cast aside its crutch, walked forward on its own legs, and became one of the best dang fantasy sagas in history.

And then, in the ultimate "psych!" moment, things went back around and kept connecting to that night anyway. Like a bizarre episode of Columbo, where everything else around the extremely upfront murder gets revealed instead. Instead of using the murder mystery as a device to support the plot, the entire rest of the story is used as a device to support the account of the murder. So that even though it WASN'T a murder mystery we're thrown by the plot twists anyway.

And then, of course, while we're still reeling from those reveals, the rest of the plot hits us with some more Sanderlanches, because this story is still going. And it was never really about Gavilar, anyway.

It's brilliant. How the heck does Sanderson pull these crazy writing shenanigans off?

[mareastrorum]

I'm so sorry if this is not the place for this and I hope I'm not bothering you but the golden goose quote made me realize BH see themselves as Destiny's Children but in reality they are the princesses. This is not another anti or pro god argument I'm not saying this as a negative thing since the princesses weren't malicious they meant well but didn't see any other way of changing things and one could say that BH didn't find a clear solution like Destiny's Children. It's just interesting how similar they are. they have repeatedly said that they want to stop the gods (fairies) from writing their stories.

Spoilers for Dimension 20’s Neverafter to follow.

Not all the Daughters of the Crown were malicious, but Snow White and Rapunzel certainly were. BLM did a good job of portraying the multi-person factions as groups allied in a mutual goal, but each still with unique reasons for wanting it. That’s a lot better than what has happened in C3.

If I were to analogize the various factions from each show to each other, I’d do the following:

The Ruby Vanguard and the Daughters of the Crown: Group of nihilists who would risk complete destruction of the world so long as it means an end to the powers that created them. Any good within the world cannot possibly compare to the cost. Ignorant to the actual manipulators that made use of them, to the point that they don’t even understand the true nature of the conflict until the final confrontation where all zealots are slaughtered, turncoats are nearly killed and have no recourse, and the weak only show up after everything has ended.

The Weave Mind and the Council of Kings: Locally powerful and dominant rulers who are blinded by opportunity and who have a limited understanding of their civilization’s place in the cosmology of their universe. They ally themselves with a distant outsider who promises wealth, power, conquest in exchange for assistance in destroying a common enemy. Not particularly relevant to the story other than the fact that they supported someone else to upend the structure of reality in exchange for the mere opportunity of more land, title, and influence.

Ludinus Da’leth and the Stepmother: Mastermind who has been manipulating numerous factions for the express and sole purpose of destroying their creators. While there is justification for their anger and resentment at the harm caused to them merely as collateral damage, they have acted far beyond what is rational: they devoured untold numbers of innocents, enlisted child soldiers, assisted warmongers and colonists for the sake of distracting their enemies, destroyed civilizations, and accumulated power without any care for the world around them. Morality is a lie told to the world by its leaders, and so there is no action off limits and no cost too great to finally destroy those creators and remake the world without them.

Bell’s Hells and the Gander: Forces of elemental chaos that have grown by consuming power from those that oppose them, obstruct and terrorize other factions for the sheer glee of it rather than any self-interested plan, endure pain and suffering for the sake of being able to inflict it on others, and blame higher powers for making them that way, spiting every potential ally they could have, and eventually deciding to simply be a problem until they get to confront the faction that remains more powerful than them. A fun encounter, but an incredibly boring and unsatisfying perspective to follow compared to most other options.

The problem with Bell’s Hells trying to find a solution is that they don’t need to find a solution. This isn’t Neverafter with authors literally forcing their will on everyone in that universe. The Exandrian Pantheon caged themselves off from mortals specifically to protect mortals from the Betrayers, and the only way to drop the Divine Gate is for all the gods to agree to it. That stalemate already ensures that mortals are safe from the gods. The gods are not a problem that needs solving.

The problem that needs solving is Predathos, and Bell’s Hells have repeatedly, consistently, unequivocally stated that they don’t really care for the gods and don’t really hate them either. It’s not their problem. It’s the problem of religious Exandrians. And for some reason, the story is following Bell’s Hells butting their nose into the others’ business because they feel entitled to make decisions for all the religious people of Exandria despite never asking them what they wanted or otherwise meaningfully engaging with them. They don’t need to be here. The anticolonialism reading of this campaign is infuriating because Bell’s Hells are acting like colonists. They’re using unearned power to force the rest of the world to bend to their will because it feels nice to bask in power over others.

Bell’s Hells aren’t even good villains. They’re the fucking Gander.

[shkika]

Got any Headcanon backstory of how each iterator was named? Like, how did No Significant Harassment get his name? How did Five Pebbles get his name? Etc, etc. I'm curious what you think!

OHH what a fun ask to make up stuff on actually. Sure I have some headcanons. Iterator names are so so fun, because there's a lot you can do with them.

Different local groups could have themes perhaps on their names. Or perhaps their names are phrases or sayings or derive from them. I will go with each colony having their individual meaning for the iterator name.

Sliver of Straw- I've talked about her name extensively here! (x) Please check it out, because I LOVE her name. Basically means needle in a haystack + shortening it to SOS is genius. Just the best.

Looks To The Moon- I don't know if this is the most original take, but I do think her name has a lot of meaning especially if you take into account that she's one of the first or at least an extremely old iterator. I compare it to the landing on the Moon in a way even if it sounds silly. This impossible to reach place is now something well withing reach. Her name is to represent looking at opportunity at the impossible and striving to achieve it. Which can connect to.. well answering the impossible ascension question.

Five Pebbles- This is such a hard one for me. But since the game makes such strong parallels between those two. Making them opposites and such it makes sense to see that in their names. While Looks to the Moon's name is grand and aiming for high achievements. Five Pebbles' name could perhaps be about the smaller mundane things. Finding the solution in a little nook or cranny somewhere close to you. A place where you'd least expect it.

One name is to aim hight and strive for the impossible. The other is about staying low and finding the answer in the small things in life. Which is hilarious if you look at their actual characters. With FP making the bold dangerous decisions and experiments and LTTM vibing like a much more grounded character than him. I love those two.

No Significant Harassment- People find his name really weird which is amusing, because it's really not! To me at least. It can very simply mean "No real harm done". Which I think is probably the intention and it suits his funny guy personality quite a lot. In a way his name could mean peace! A fun hc I discussed with @creeket is that perhaps before NSH was built the colony was divided into four factions/houses that hated each other. The iterator was a reason for them to unite and work on something together which is what the four connected diamonds on his forehead represent.

Seven Red Suns- Okay this is one of the names I struggle the most with. My headcanons about SRS which I've mentioned before is that their colony is very religious and made them as an actual god, treating him as an actual all knowing god much muuch more than the other iterators are treated to the point Seven Red Suns has actual political power (which they really don't want to have). So I think their name is supposed to express how grand and impressive they are. Seven as in complete, perfect. Red is a royal, regal color and of course Suns further cementing their godhood. It makes me think of how the sun is often personified or given a deity to represent it. It can be a cruel leader that dries the land, but also give life and light.

Of course there's many ways to take it in completely different ways. Red stars if I'm not mistaken are the coldest.

Chasing Wind- I also really really like this iterator name. I like to imagine it as either one of two things or both. Chasing after something that is right in front of you yet just barely out of grasp. Like y'know the wind! Or your head is Chasing wind. Having an abundance of thoughts or ideas. Your imagination and creativity running wild and free like the wind!

Unparalleled Innocence- It's so on the nose haha. There is no buts or anything that is a direct opposite to her name in my headcanons. She's a very well meaning innocent person. She was the last iterator to be ever made and lacks a lot more context than the other. She was based of the concept of a child. Which of course children are known for their innocence and unique approach to the world.

[jacebeleren]

It bothers me so much that the only transfem rep in mtg cards is this like. Soldier military woman, like 'ooh look at this guy's we made a trans woman who's a part of a war machine' fantastic thank you magic very original

=========

Okay.

First of all, there is no "our" interpretation of the text. My thoughts are my own, and your thoughts are your own. Some of our thoughts might align, but I will not allow you to speak for me.

Second, I am sorry you feel so disappointed in the current state of transgender representation in Magic. I understand your concerns and I think they're valid concerns.

Third, your concerns being valid does not mean I agree with what you have to say, though. Don't come into my inbox complaining unless you're ready for me to honestly respond. Respectfully, your approach to these concerns makes it clear to me that you don't actually understand what you're talking about.

It's apparent that you follow me or have at least seen many of my posts. You appear to respect my opinions / analysis (at least regarding Jace and Tezzeret). So listen to me when I say this:

What constitutes 'good' representation is context-dependent, and it's not something you alone get to decide.

Yes, Alesha is a "soldier military woman", as you said. I understand that you have this complaint because you believe this makes Alesha an example of the stereotype that trans women are violent. But context matters. What you're failing to consider is the fact that she comes from the Mardu Horde, a faction on Tarkir inspired by the Mongol hordes of real-world history. In this context, Alesha isn't presented as violent because she's a trans woman. She's violent because she literally comes from a warrior clan based on one of the greatest military forces in human history. And honestly, with Magic being a combat-centric game, she's not any more violent than any non-Mardu Legends, either.

Do you seriously think a story about a trans woman fighting to proudly declare her trans identity in her culture and later becoming the accomplished and well-respected leader of her clan is bad representation? Does the fact that she's a warrior really outweigh the rest of the lovingly crafted trans narrative they created for her, to you?

It's fine if you feel that way. You don't have to like Alesha or her story. But just because something wasn't made for your taste doesn't mean it's bad writing / bad representation.

Anyway, I highly recommend you read Alesha's story, "The Truth of Names", since it seems like you haven't read it yet. It's a fantastic story-- the most beloved short story in all of Magic, actually. It was the most-read article on the entire Magic website for like 5 years, according to WOTC.

And if you're interested in learning more about transfem characters in Magic who aren't Alesha, I recommend you read about Xantcha, who first appears in the novel "Planeswalker".

Next, I need to make things clear about Ashiok.

Ashiok was never intended to be nonbinary representation. Ashiok was created to be a mysterious, unknowable villain. What makes Ashiok special is that we are not mean to know anything about Ashiok. We do not know Ashiok's species or plane of origin, for example. Another part of that element of mystery is not knowing Ashiok's gender, or how Ashiok identifies. Ashiok's original style guide from Theros explicitly instructs people to not use any pronouns for Ashiok at all (which I still follow because old habits are hard to break.) Official Magic sources did not begin to use they/them pronouns for Ashiok until 2022, in the story "A Garden of Flesh" (another excellent story, BTW.) And they only started using they/them for Ashiok because it is really hard to write a story where the character is mentioned that many times without pronouns.

All this to say: Ashiok as intentional nonbinary representation is certainly not the narrative WOTC is pushing.

Yes, there are many fans of Ashiok who interpret Ashiok as nonbinary, but those are their thoughts and you need not concern yourself with that, if it bothers you so.

As for Niko, it's weird that you say they're "non-existent" in Magic story when 2 of the 5 side stories ("Know Which Way the Wind is Blowing" and "Aim Through the Target") in their debut set Kaldheim were entirely focused on Niko. They're also a starring main character in 15 of the 25 issues of the BOOM! Studios Magic comics.

I'm glad you like my analysis of Jace and Tezzeret as transgender characters. Thank you for that, genuinely. But I want you to understand that the reason I have these interpretations is because I love Magic Story. And more importantly, I actually read it. I love Magic Story, and I have so much respect for the Magic Narrative team and the work they do.

What most people don't understand is that the Magic Narrative Team is in fact very careful and very loving in their approach to queer representation. You may not know this about me, but I'm friends with A LOT of people who formerly or currently work on Magic / Magic Story. Knowing these people personally, I know for a fact that the Magic creative Team does not create queer characters for "diversity points". They're not just checking boxes. The Magic creative team creates queer characters because the Magic creative team is full of queer people and allies who want to tell stories that reflect their own + fans' experiences. And they have to constantly fight to include more / better queer representation in Magic. They want good queer representation in Magic just as much as we do.

Am I going to defend everything they do? No! Are they perfect? No! They are just people. They make mistakes and they have blind spots. For example, in my essay about my analysis of Jace as a trans man, I explain that the reason my interpretation means so much to me is because there is currently zero meaningful representation for trans men in Magic canon. There are zero transgender male characters in Magic canon who have names. That's a HUGE blind spot considering the number of canon trans characters! That's something that disappoints and upsets me.

I'm not afraid to criticize Magic Story, and I do so very often. But I am critical of Magic story because I love it. My criticism does not equal hatred or unhappiness.

Sorry to hear that their efforts at including better trans representation in Magic would piss you off. I'm sorry that you've given up.

Lastly, I think Liliana is cis, but that's just my headcanon.

[wardencallings]

Got possessed by a desire demon and wrote 1.6k words of Rook x Prologue Bartender fic. Rook uses they/them pronouns, and I kept race and faction vague. I actually feel kind of motivated to continue this, so let me know if you like it :)

Rook was half-surprised that the bar was still standing. After the disaster of Solas’ failed ritual swept through Minrathous, they’d assumed the place would be nothing more than a pile of rubble. Perhaps the Venatori had actually been able to hold control of the demons and mitigate their destruction upon their hideouts. Rook thought that unlikely. The Venatori didn't seem all that competent, despite the grand claims they made about their magic. As they got closer to the bar, they saw that they were right.

While the establishment was still upright, there wasn't much else positive that could be said about its state. Windows smashed, the door off its hinges, and some charred wood across the entire base, probably thanks to some unhinged rage demon, Rook doubted it was in any condition to host customers. Still, they could see someone roaming around within. Figuring there was no point in knocking on a splintered and disconnected door, they walked right in.

The woman from before, the one who’d told them where to find Neve, was sweeping glass from the floor on the far side of the bar. Rook was pleased to see her. This was who they'd come to talk to. Before they left the Lighthouse, they had to come up with some excuse as to why they wanted to go to Neve’s hometown alone – they’d said something about wanting to tour the city on their own terms, feeling too overwhelmed for company, blah, blah, blah. They didn't think Neve bought it, but she’d relented after only a few minutes of minor probing. Honestly, they got off easy, if stories about Neve's interrogation skills were to be believed.

When Rook’s foot creaked on a floorboard, the bartender's head whipped up, and her hand went to her side, reaching for the blade on her hip. Rook couldn’t resist watching the curve of her bicep flex with the movement. Feeling a little too lecherous, they forced their gaze back to her eyes.

“Oh, it’s you,” the woman said, her brown eyes fixating on Rook. Her fingers found the blade’s hilt, and she squeezed it.

“You recognized me?”

“I never forget a face, especially not yours, sweet talker,” she replied. She continued to stare at Rook as if she wasn’t sure if they were here to kill her or not. Rook wasn’t sure how things would go either – not yet anyway. They supposed it all hinged on how this conversation went.

In truth, they'd come here just because they wanted to see her again. Something about the way she carried herself, how she spoke to Rook, had been bouncing around their mind for the past few days. They had so many other things more worthy of ruminating on, but for some reason, when they tried to work through those more pressing problems, they could only picture her face. Rook had never been so struck by someone before, and they were going to figure out why. They had reasoned that solving this distraction would better prepare them to handle those other things. Probably.

“I guess the demons found the place,” Rook said, leaning against a part of the doorframe that was still intact. They crossed their arms as they surveyed the inside, partly in an attempt to look non-threatening, partly because they thought it might look cool. The liquor was all but destroyed, the smell of alcohol wafting across the entire place. There was something that looked congealed like blood spilled atop the bar and dripping onto the floor below, leaving streaks almost like spilled wine in its wake. Rook could see the three notches in the floor where Bianca had struck, wielded expertly by Varric, of course.

“The demons, looters, and the Venatori,” she answered, “in that order.”

“Isn’t this a Venatori hangout?” Rook asked. “Why would they trash their own place?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe their leaders weren’t too happy I told a certain someone where to find Neve Gallus.” The bartender gives Rook a withering look. “I got to hear all about your rescue.”

Rook laughed, tilting their head back. They wished that they had agreed to bring Neve with them. She’d get a kick out of this.

“Sounds like your information might have been a little off. I wouldn’t say I rescued her. Neve saved herself and killed a bunch of Venatori in the process, but I guess that still didn’t reflect well on you.”

“Nope.”

“You know, I would think they’d let that slide. I always assumed Venatori took care of their own. It seems very Crowlike to trash someone’s place just because they did something they didn’t like once.”

It was the bartender’s turn to laugh. She placed the broom against the bar and wrapped an arm around her stomach to steady herself. Clearly, she thought Rook’s words were hilarious.

“You think I’m Venatori?”

“Well, you hang out with them, and you knew where they took Neve.”

“I own a bar that the Venatori like. That hardly makes me one.”

“You accept their coin, serve them drinks at your bar, and you let them take Neve. You're closer to being one than I am.”

“That’s a low bar.”

“So why do you do it? Let them crash here, I mean,” Rook asked. “It seems like too much risk. Wouldn’t you prefer a less criminal clientele?”

“They’re liberal with their gold, and when they like me, they keep me safe from robbers and magisters alike. Usually, I can handle them, at least when demons don’t invade Minrathous.” She paused, squinting at Rook. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

“No, not me,” Rook said with a laugh. “I was actually trying to stop that. You can blame this old elf guy we were hunting.” Rook figured that to be a better explanation than the god Fen’Harel returning to tear down the Veil and restore the ancient way of elven life to the world, but they did briefly wonder if Solas would care much for that description of him. They could’ve called him a pompous, selfish ass instead. Either works.

She didn't seem all that interested in Solas.

“So you won? The demons are gone, and I have you to thank for that?” the bartender asked, eyebrow cocked. Rook noticed the look of disbelief on her face, and their lips twitched upward in a smirk.

“Not really, but you can thank me anyway.”

“Is that right?” she said, sauntering over to Rook. “How would you like me to thank you, exactly?”

“I could think of a few ways,” Rook replied. They uncrossed their arms and puffed their chest out a bit as she approached. This time, they let their eyes wander across her body.

“Oh, I’ll bet you have quite the imagination. I could use a bit of fun before the Venatori show up.”

She ran a finger down Rook’s chest and placed her other hand on their lower back. Rook could feel the heat emanating off of her, and they could smell the lavender and vanilla of her perfume. There was a troubling bruise on her jaw, and Rook raised their hand to cup her face, partially covering the mark, gently. As Rook felt the full effect of this sudden closeness, goosebumps raised on their flesh, and they could feel a bit of pressure building between their legs.

Looking into her eyes, Rook felt a strange pang in their chest. Before they could stifle it, they succumbed to the need to say something odd.

“Come with me,” Rook said. “I have a place. You wouldn’t have to worry about them there.”

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out if you’re stupid or brave. I’ve finally figured it out. You’re both.” There was no malice in her tone, just amusement.

“Oh come on,” Rook replied. “I can’t believe no one’s ever asked you to go home with them.”

“Plenty of times. Ask them how many times I’ve said yes.”

“They’ll kill you,” Rook said.

“And I’d be safer with you?” The bartender asked, shaking her head. “I somehow doubt that.”

“Safer? Probably not, but you wouldn’t have to worry about the Venatori. Plus, I’ll be there.”

“And Neve Gallus.”

“Well, yeah, but she’s not all bad. Very forgiving, in fact,” Rook lied. They had no way of knowing what Neve was like. The two conversations they’d had thus far weren’t very telling.

“Is that right?”

“I could hide you.”

“Hide me?” she asked, an incredulous lilt to her voice. “What are we? Teenagers sneaking each other into our parents’ homes?”

"It's a massive place, and unbelievably beautiful, too. You could have your own room if you wanted. Although, my bed is always open to you, of course."

“I’m not going home with you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Rook. You can call me Rook. Everyone does.”

“Rook? Like the bird?” 

“No, the chess piece.”

“Interesting,” she mumbled.

“And you? I assume you have a name,” Rook replied.

“You can call me Raven. And yes, like the bird.”

“Is that your name?”

“Is Rook yours?”

“Touché.”

The two stared at each other, Raven’s fingers still pressed on the small of Rook’s back. Rook could feel them drumming softly on their skin. Her other hand dances up their arm, landing on their bicep.

“Come back,” Raven said. “Visit me again, and I’ll think about it.”

“Here?” Rook asked. 

“Where else?”

“And if the Venatori burn the place down?”

“They won’t,” Raven replied with a cocky grin. “I’m the only one in this damned town who can pour a decent ale.”

"How can I be sure you won't sell me out to the Venatori like you did with Neve?"

"You can't," she replied. Rook chewed on the fingernail of their thumb and exhaled a breath from their nose. I must be crazy.

“Fine, but I don’t think I can come through the front door,” Rook pointed out. “I don’t exactly want a knife in the back or a firebolt singeing my hair.”

“There’s a door in the back I use for deliveries. Knock three times, and I'll know it's you."

“Maybe we are teenagers sneaking around,” Rook replied. This time, Raven didn't grin at their joke.

“Oh, to be young again,” she mused. “You should go. There’s a pack of Venatori rounding the corner.”

Sure enough, Rook could hear footsteps rapidly approaching the bar. 

“And try not to kill them on your way out,” Raven added. “I need their coin.”

Rook nodded, slowly moving their hand from her face. For a moment, they thought of kissing her. Thinking better (for once), they slipped out the window and onto the road. Before departing, they looked back at Raven and waved. She rolled her eyes, but after a moment, returned it with her own.

Rook knew it was going to be a long road ahead with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain on the loose, and a collection of other, less terrible but still not great problems providing further annoying obstacles. But there was one bright light on the horizon, and she was about to serve overpriced beer to a murderous blood magic cult. Neve’s going to be so pissed.

[sapphiresonstrings]

I think it's fascinating that this Syrian rebel leader is presenting such a moderate image.

To summarize his claims in the interview:

Q: Can you talk about the ongoing battle?

A: No.

Q: Why have the rebels have been able to make so much progress so quickly?

A: Because the liberated areas of Syria unified politically and established institutions. The rebel factions gathered together into a single army with better discipline and better communications. This army is able to follow orders and carry out plans, where the previous chaotic rebel groups could not.

Q: Isn't it actually because Hezbollah/Iran and Russia are too busy fighting Israel and Ukraine to prop up the Assad regime?

A: I can't talk about strategy while the battle is still going on.

Q: What's your take on the Assad regime?

A: It's already dead, it's been dead for years, and the Iranians and Russians are using its corpse as a puppet.

Q: Are you going to set up a fundamentalist Islamic regime?

A: Yes, but it's not going to be as bad as you think. The important thing is that we're going to establish a government ruled by laws and institutions rather than the whims of individuals. The strong institutions we're going to build will guarantee the rights of minority groups. Syria can't have a government that favors only one sect*, because in Syria many different sects have coexisted for hundreds of years.

*The word 'sect' is the translation given in the interview. I'm curious whether he's only talking about sects of Islam or if he means all religions (including Druze and Christians), and also whether this extends to ethnic minorities like the Kurds.

Q: Isn't your group (HTS) a radical terrorist group that used to be affiliated with Al Qaeda? What's up with that?

A: HTS is just one group in the larger Syrian project. It exists to fight against Assad, and it can disband at any time. The real goal is building a new Syrian government with strong institutions**. Also, we were really young when we said all that radical stuff. Now we're in our 40's and we've mellowed out.

**He really likes mentioning institutions.

Q: Aren't you on a terrorist watch list, though? Isn't there a 10 million dollar bounty on your head?

A: Those watch lists are all political. If a terrorist is anyone who intentionally kills civilians or displaces people, then a lot of Arabic governments are terrorist organizations. I was just an unaware young man when I got involved in the Iraqi civil war, and I didn't go into it intending to become a terrorist. I just wanted to defend the Iraqi people. I'm older and wiser now that I've returned to Syria, and I don't want to allow the terrible things that happened to Iraq to happen to Syria. That's why my group has had disagreements with ISIS.

Q: Why did you do this interview?

A: Because what we've done here is good for everyone. Syria under Assad is a source of chaos across the entire world, but now that we're in charge everything is going to be sunshine and roses. All the Syrian refugees can come home as soon as we're done building houses for all the Syrians currently living in camps.

~

He seems to be trying to endear himself to a Western audience. The way he emphasizes that he's an enemy of Iran and Russia feels like he's fishing for support from the Western powers. He's even made a conspicuous effort to dress in a Western style. Previous photos of him have him wearing a headscarf and scowling into the camera, but now he's bare-headed and wearing plain army fatigues.

(By Western powers I'm referring to the ever-shifting alliances of international meddling that tend to form around the USA, France, and the UK.)

He actually seems to be trying to dress like Zelensky, which is interesting because Assad is currently taking refuge in Moscow. It makes strategic sense for the West to support the new Syrian regime, since it seems to be inevitable that they'll be bitter enemies of the Russians and Iranians.

The question is whether they'll actually follow through on the promise of religious toleration, strong institutions, and rights for minorities. I want to believe that the disparate Syrian rebel factions really did shake hands and agree to set their differences aside to create a new free Syria where everyone can live in peace and harmony. It just seems a little too good to be true.

Happy endings do happen, though, especially if there's pressure to keep Western allies happy. Just look at South Korea. They started out as a dictatorship with a military alliance with the USA, then reformed into a democratic state. That's an achievable goal, which is why I think the Western powers should look into the possibility of supporting the new regime.

[autumnslance]

I feel like the concept of "Sharlayan hunts down knowledge and guards it jealously" comes from the Astrologian quests and missing that it's distinctly Sevestre's faction of Bibliothecs in that quest series. It's one of the few interactions we get with something official in Sharlayan, and a leader--and it's been a lasting bad impression on the playerbase.

Foe one thing, given all the Sharlayans WoL knows and hangs out with in MSQ and other side content, that concept of Sharlayan as jealous with their knowledge never made much sense! Nor does it seem like the Forum on the whole is in the habit of sending assassins after men, and later their teenage daughters. Nor would the blackmail material on Sevestre work all that well were his actions actually sanctioned!

Sevestre's lorebook entry also clarifies he's always hated the Circle of Knowing and the Scions due to his beliefs in non-interference and jealous knowledge-keeping.

We see Sevestre in the background of all of the Forum shots in Endwalker; he's one of the few Forum members not wearing one of the veiled hats. One of the sidequests in Sharlayan very early on has us deliver one of 3 books to his home, even.

I know it's not feasible given all else going on, and not all players leveling AST, but it still would have been nice for there to be an option to call out Sevestre's biases (he votes against the Scions at every opportunity) and AST-WoL's issues running into him before.

Sage also has some issues with the darker side of Sharlayan research and politics that likewise never gets addressed, which ends up sitting weirdly in a society of ivory tower academics who have mostly meant well but gone about it the wrong way for centuries. Using things like the factions from AST and SGE to highlight where those good intentions go wrong only works if you make it accessible to everyone, and then deal with it in the main story...but there is zero space and time to do that in Endwalker, and so they just hang there in the background. Maybe someday we'll return to those ideas, since Sharlayan is newer content.

(Alt text transcription on images)

[romance-of-three-memes]

I'm never going to fully understand when people want Dynasty Warriors characters to stop color coordinating based on faction or for Samurai Warriors characters to start doing that more strictly. It's such an interesting expression of character design because it broadcasts the different political and social backgrounds of their periods, in the Chinese Three Kingdoms era there were a lot of smaller factions at first but they convalesced into the main three within about three decades, whereas in the Sengoku era everyone was splintering off and betraying each other for the political equivalent of a sandwich's worth of profit until the last few decades of the era, an era that lasted well over a century, when the three conquerors emerged.

So most of the characters in Dynasty Warriors neatly fitting into one of three colorways (four, if you count Jin getting light blue when it's introduced and Wei being assigned dark blue retroactively, which interestingly enough are actually considered totally separate colors in some languages like Russian and Turkish) and most of the Samurai Warriors characters doing their own thing is very thematically fitting. Moreover it's always interesting and kinda hilarious when one or two characters in a certain faction in Dynasty Warriors basically get a free pass to mostly do their own thing despite being in one of the main three kingdoms for Reasons™, Xiao Qiao only has one main outfit where red features majorly, orange and mint green are her most common main colors, dark blue has pretty much always features in Zhao Yun's outfits, and often more prominently than green, honestly I feel like it's because the devs decided early on that those were Their Colors and changing them would be weird.

You know Jia Chong is only very begrudgingly wearing a tiny bit of light blue because it clashes with his edgy goth vibe, meanwhile almost everyone else who's classified as being in Jin is mostly decked out in it. It's especially interesting because despite that and him falling into just about every shady, backstabby advisor trope, he's among the most loyal and is often the one rooting out the traitors. Zhang Chunhua is also an interesting exception, dunno if it's purposeful but I find it fitting amd hilarious given her dynamic with her husband Sima Yi in that series and how he's the one who's often beholden to her and he's intimidated by her).

But also in Dynasty Warriors color coordination isn't really all that sentimental for most of them. It means you're aligned with the same kingdom, it says fairly little about your loyalty to that kingdom or if you ascribe to your leader's and colleagues' commonly shared ideologies. You're coworkers, basically.

Meanwhile in Samurai Warriors color coordination suggests a much closer tie between those who do partake in it. It's often reserved for lords and their retainers or romantic couples, but there are certainly exceptions that go both ways. If you color coordinate with someone in Samurai Warriors it suggests a certain bond and sense of dedication that isn't as nearly as strong in Dynasty Warriors. It means at least one of the people who's color coordinating is very loyal to and closely identifies with the other(s) and usually it means both or all people involved are. That doesn't mean people who don't coordinate can't also be deeply loyal to one another, but it's less likely.

So if they were to suddenly break that trend it would take so much away from the series' design philosophies.

[gyrium]

i do really like choices-matter type video games and am a fan of character building rpgs as much as anyone else- but, particularly in the fantasy genre, i take umbrage with the expectation that that means i must shape an entire world through my character

i think for me it all mostly comes down to "i wish we could break a little bit more out of the kayfabe of party-based rpg story structure" but i feel like i need to dig into it a little more than that

first of all, i reject the idea that it's interesting that a single person becomes not only an influence on their party but major world factions, and/or on the outcome of all major events in a kingdom or war (or many of them), for no other reason than "it's a choices matter fantasy rpg". ignore the idea of whether or not it's realistic - it isn't - but i understand that's part of the fantasy

they often explain through this by making it about being a leader, which i think is a good choice and is the foundation for getting your players to get into the spirit of it, but often i feel like 'being a leader' is the only trait you really get to have in those games... which you barely get to engage with the underlying experience of being a leader, because that role simply exists so you can be in the situations where you can make a choice - not so you can experience the story of a character who has to make decisions

some games also make the mistake of starting the story before you are actually a leader, giving you a brief moment to express a character before that, and then you watch as that person is stripped away as they become The Leader and can only express that they're a complicated person maybe once or twice in throwaway lines that don't affect anything.

this actually wouldn't be a problem if, again, you could engage with the experience of being a leader, but these stories - despite being about playing a leader - don't actually want to be about leadership!

i dislike the feeling of companion questlines being these direct dioramas of a person's interior that only your character can engage with and, for some reason, be the only thing that can affect the outcome of incredibly important personal decisions. i love exploring characters' traumas and vulnerabilities as much as anyone else but i find this level of influence on other people jarring and very unrealistic to the point of it feeling unfit even for fantasy

to me i think the greatest appeal for a party in rpgs is that they are all forced to interact with each other for one reason or another, and these kinds of games should absolutely be spending the budget and story on playing that up and not just the characters as the player character can see them

ultimately, while i do think these games would be more fun if it was ACTUALLY willing to engage in what it means to be this highly influential person, i still find the idea tired. at the end of the day i do actually just want different stories, and to stop being responsible for all these damn kingdoms

[theamityelf]

What if...the V3 cast...were also in the undead AU...as a treat...

Rantaro is the lucky student, because someone has to be. He actually does not have his whole class in check on nearly the same level that Makoto and Nagito do.

First of all, where Makoto and Nagito became the objective main characters of their respective classes, Rantaro is very much not. His class has devolved into factions, and he's just one player, in the scheme of things. Granted, he's the player who tries to keep them from getting out of hand, but he didn't step into the role of leader pretty much at all.

At first, he just underestimated how much his undead classmates would persevere; he thought he could just lock the classroom door and they would stay in and he could focus on other things during the day (like the mystery of where exactly in the school the virus came from, because it strikes him as pretty convenient that the lucksters are immune and he wants to know if the school did this on purpose. Also, he wants to know what's going on with the reserve course. What are all those students even doing, now that the faculty has left? Who is leading them? What protections have they made for themselves?), and then come back to feed them later. But it turns out he genuinely needed to stay near them.

Some of his class is just fully out. Kokichi's loose. Kaito's loose. Maki's loose. Himiko is constantly in and out.

Keebo is obviously not undead, which is helpful, but he's also less effectual than Rantaro is at keeping the group contained.

Angie is actually kind of helpful in that regard, despite being undead, because she seems to have some kind of fixation on staying in the classroom, to the point where even if the others are escaping, she will stay where she is and a few of them will stay because she's staying. The problem is, when Keebo tries to take them all to the bathhouse, she will have to be carried out, and she will grip the doorframe and struggle to stay inside. She loves baths, but she refuses to voluntarily leave the room, so there's kind of a "No take, only throw" vibe to it. (Rantaro supposes she's somehow reached the conclusion that leaving the classroom is sinful.)

[primeofprimes115]

The Yin to Her Yang, His Ray of Sunshine - Supergirl x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), Angst, lots of Fluff and Wholesome moments (if you're one of those ugly criers, best to get some tissues just in case

(A/N: This takes place within an Alternative New Earth timeline where Flashpoint and Convergence never happens in this timeline)

*

For the last few years of their relationship, dating back to where it all began, where she first arrived to Earth, scared, confused, traumatised to where she is now with the one true love she never thought she'd have in her life who fought side by side with her through all of her struggles along with his own, through their ups and downs, her one true love being you of course!

Some would say your relationship with Supergirl was a coincidence.

But deep down, it wasn't just a coincidence... It was destined to blossom into an art of true love, two people, who cared so much for each other, who loved each other conditionally and emotionally. 

Your relationship with her was very sweet, tender, caring, loving and protective along with it being softcore and downright fluffy.

But... Let's go through your history with her first... All the way to present day...

*

Kara Zor-El has come a long way, she's been through so much within the last few years, fought through so many struggles in her life as both Supergirl and her secret identity Linda Lang.

(A/N: Before you say anything about the image directly above... I get that she's... Y'know? But do I blame you??? I don't think I should) 

But she didn't spend it alone, by her side, was a young man from the planet Xola which had a bad history with Kryptonians as they once tried to conquer Xola but the Xolanians fought back with dignity and strength, once a powerful empire before many years later, the Xolanians would erupt in a civil war, two factions, fighting for control over the planet as the planet, slowly became uninhabitable for them all due to the war effort.

The man named Y/N, a young but grizzled and traumatised veteran of the Xolanian civil war, came to Earth near the end of the war, to live peacefully and in isolation before he found himself in more conflict regarding the humans and the many aliens that thrived on Earth.

He assumed the war was lost... The last thing he ever knew was that... Xola was becoming uninhabitable to support life... He grieved over the loss of his planet, of losing the war...

Until... He would meet someone who would change his life forever, along with changing hers.

*

Batman/Superman: The Supergirl From Krypton

If it wasn't for the man called Superman, Y/N probably wouldn't be where he is now, at first he didn't trust the Big Blue since he was a Kryptonian but after seeing what he stood up for, he slowly began trusting him a bit more, as he began to trust a few Humans, one of them being Lois Lane, though he would still keep himself isolated and hidden, keeping to himself since he doesn't trust anyone else but the Man of Steel and a few of his close ones, he was introduced to his cousin Kara Zor-El, to help her adapt to Earth a bit better and the rest is history. after he vowed to help her understand a bit better.

She did go through some struggles, being practically kidnapped by Wonder Woman to be trained by the Amazons instead of Kal and Y/N teaching her, she already didn't like Batman since she thinks he didn't have a heart at all, thinking he was being an ass to her but overall... The only stranger who didn't try do anything to her was Y/N, who she actually enjoyed talking with and was a great conversationalist.

He didn't like the fact that Kara was forced to train on Themaskira, he always thought that 'freedom was everyone's right', he always thought that through his past leader, this? This wasn't freedom, she was forced but still... He couldn't do anything about it

But... This wouldn't really last as long, she gained the attention of Apokolips, specially Darkseid and with the attack on Themaskira from a cloned army of doomsday which was a diversion to distract everyone, Darkseid would order Kara's capture for she was to be manipulated into becoming a servant for him which unfortunately, they would succeed in doing so.

Y/N wanted to rescue her, no matter the cost, no matter how far he would have to go to get her back, thanks to Big Barda, they would find a way to travel to Apokolips.

After the two cousins would fight, in the nick of time of Y/N's arrival with Batman distracting Darkseid with his smarts, somehow... Y/N managed to break the somewhat brainwash on Kara's mind, carefully using his words, before she would collapse on the ground, Kal would bring her back with the others upon Darkseid agreeing to let Kara free... That day... Y/N grew to respect Batman with his smarts, outsmarting even a New God? That was something he never thought a Human could ever do.

Upon the end, with Kara back and it looked like she was going to head back with her cousin, she had one talk with Y/N as she recognised a symbol on his armour.

"How're you feeling?" he asked

"Still fuzzy but... I'm okay, I'm here because I just wanted to say before I go... Thank you for... What you've done for me Y/N ~" she smiled as she ran her hand on his shoulder plate where a somewhat recognisable symbol was seen - "I know this symbol, it belonged to the Xolanians, you're Xolanian? I know what the Kryptonians did to your people through my mother, Alura. I was so surprised you put so much of your trust in me despite... What happened between our people, I'm so sorry for what happened back then" she kept her eyes on the symbol, the two swords that stood for Unity, Hope, Prosperity.

She looked up at him, noticing his sorrowed face, thinking he was hurt by this, she immediately apologised... Thinking she shouldn't have mentioned it.

"No Kara, it's not that... I... I don't think I should talk about it here" he said with sorrow, with a pain aching in his heart.

She unexpectedly hugs him, taking him by surprise... He's never had a hug in a long time, not since... The Fall of Xola.

"I understand you don't want to talk about it, you're not ready to talk about it and that's fine! Really, it is" she seemed to console him, which shocked him but... He smiled, accepting the hug by placing his hands on her back.

The time came for her to go back with her cousin, he thanked Wonder Woman and Batman for helping him... Including Y/N, for helping her extensively... He already saw that Y/N trusts her and he couldn't be more proud.

Though returning from the Fortress of Solitude where Kara would try on a costume she could wear to use her powers and abilities for good, her 'Supergirl' outfit, she admitted she wasn't sure about being worthy to wear it, to bear the House of El glyph, feeling ashamed of her action when she was brainwashed, her cousin would dismiss it, telling her that whatever evil she displayed, was put into her by Darkseid.

 They would soon return to the Kent Family Farm where Darkseid was waiting for them, waiting to strike the two super cousins off guard.

However... He was bested in the end, especially with Wonder Woman's arrival and Kara reversed the Motherbox tech, activating the boom tube before Darkseid was sent through it, far out within the cosmos...

 Upon that day... Kara made a decision... Remembering what Y/N once told her

"We only become Heroes to not only protect others, to protect freedom, it is a huge responsibility that requires strength, dignity and discipline so we can fight for a better tomorrow... I was told that once, and I haven't forgotten it since that day, but overall... I see that in you Kara, just a little bit, but it's your decision to become a Hero or not, to take that responsibility, to turn it... Into opportunity, turning it... Into something... Beautiful"

On Paradise Island, Superman would introduce 'Supergirl' to the superhero community.

"To be honest. I'm not sure I've earned the right to use that name... Or to even wear this uniform. But I'm hoping, with all your help. I'll grow into it" she gave a little speech to the community as she was cheered on, making her smile but as she looked closer... She couldn't see Y/N, or see him anywhere for that matter.

It was at this time... He was at his spot where it was all peaceful... Quiet... No one around him or anything... Just... The calm ocean, the sun set... All of it... Reflecting on the past... His past... Unescapable memories.

It wasn't long till he heard someone land close to him, shaking him out of those memories, he turned to his right and saw... Kara, in her Supergirl outfit, stunned by her look as she smiled at him.

(A/N: Always loved his art, RIP Michael Turner)

"Hi Y/N, what'd you think?" she flaunted her cape, doing a little spin afterwards as he stood up from where he sat, smiling at her as she allowed him to show off her costume, from front to back, seeing the House of El glyph on her cape all coloured a yellowish gold much like her cousin's.

"It looks... Good, amazing... Super" he cracks an accidental pun in there, making her giggle.

"Earth humour huh?" she giggled before sitting down with him.

"Didn't mean to crack one a pun there but..." he chuckled as he sat down beside her, the two continuing their conversation as her cousin watched from a distance, happy she's getting along with someone who was her first friend here on Earth.

*

(Supergirl: Girl Power)

Kara's friendship with Y/N bloomed into something special, it grew closer as the weeks went by, he patrolled with her and as she was already dealing with a situation, involving getting spied on, he vowed to help her deal with this situation.

 At their usual hang out spot where the two were alone together, watching the calm oceans which also appeared to calm Kara's thoughts when she would be feeling down.

She wanted to ask him about Xola, but knowing others have asked him about it, he would avoid talking about it if it was mentioned, almost like he was hiding a hidden pain behind the armour, behind the battle mask, he would briefly mention certain things but... If it was anything about why he was on Earth and not Xola... He played it off like it was nothing.

Though he briefly told her that the Kryptonian invasion was the last time he saw his father, a solider for the Xolanian Empire, he was killed during the Kryptonian, Xolanian War. Where he would have to grow up... An orphan no long after his mother's sudden passing before he was took in by his warrior Uncle, promising he'd teach him like his brother would've, at the required age, it wasn't enough to clear the unanswered question.

She wanted to ask him so badly especially since he'd briefly mentioned it back on Themaskira, but she talked about Krypton to him, why would he not do the same with his own planet?

Kara knew he was hiding pain, she knew he was still grieving, much like she was about Krypton's destruction.

"So... I hate to ask but... How did you end up here on Earth? I know you've been asked so many times but..." she looked at him as they both stared down at the ocean in front of them, the view being perfect.

He looked at her, with eyes that turned sorrow, he had a feeling Kara would ask him next, he felt she wanted to ask him for weeks, she sensed his pain by looking at him as he sighed, looking back at the ocean.

"It was a war... A civil war between our people that ravaged for centuries, two factions, fighting for control ~" he broke his silence, as Kara looked a little shocked at this - "I fought in this war, I was a warrior scout for the Xolar Resistance but... This war... It tore Xola apart, it tore many of us apart... I still... Have the scars to prove it, as with war ~" he took a moment to catch his words as he then looked at her with sorrow - "it can make a planet burn, make it... Unsuitable for life to progress... Xola became Uninhabitable for life to thrive ~" the look on Kara's face after hearing the truth behind his arrival here to Earth said it all, she wasn't expecting to hear this from him, to know she wasn't the only one who lost a planet from destruction, Y/N also went through the same pain... But worse... It was due to a war, a war HE fought, a war... He lost - "We were forced to fan out to the cosmos, abandon Xola, where my shuttle would get knocked off course, I was in cryogenic sleep during this time, and would find myself here... On Earth, knowing that I was alone... To bear with the loss of both the war and Xola and with that? I think... I'm the last of my species, the last... Of the Xolanians" he finished, his voice beginning to get shaky a little from his last words, he looked away, closing his eyes before he felt something touch him...

A hand... On his, Kara's hand grasped his, knowing they both share similar pain, similar scars, similar... Grief.

She may have Kal-El... But Y/N doesn't have that, he doesn't have family left, nor anyone for the matter, it was where the two embraced in a deep hug, helping him grieve through the pain just like he did with her.

 Deep down, he knew he needed this, someone to recognise he was keeping the pain hidden, someone who knows that type of pain... And Kara was the perfect individual to share his past with.

Both went through the same thing almost, he trusts her so much after all.

They've been by each others side since then, Y/N helped her fight her demons, her Dark self aka Dark Supergirl at one point due to Lex Luthor using a form of Black Kryptonite, let's just say, things were a little divided between Y/N and the two Kara's.

One played with his feelings while the other, the one Y/N knew, was still there by his side, even he knew who the real Kara was after her dark twin tried switching up costumes to confuse him and the others.

Though she would later infuse herself back up with her evil 'twin', she was struggling to find herself but she got help, from both her cousin and Y/N... He didn't want to leave her side if it meant anything at least.

*

When she joined the Teen Titans for a brief time, he supported her, though her membership with them didn't really last as long as it should have, he would still support her either way, after all? What are friends for right?

However... Kara had feelings for him after the whole Power Boy situation (despite Y/N warning her that Power Boy shouldn't be trusted, he knew something was wrong about him and he was right in the end, Power Boy tried manipulating Kara, which almost worked but ultimately failed, resulting... Him getting a boot up his man-parts by Kara in deep space), where Y/N would also develop deep feelings for her too, their first kiss eventually happening within the clouds above, where they both loved the quietness up there.

Through the Infinite Crisis charisma, thinking she was killed by the Zeta Beam, only for her to come back a year later to bad news of Superboy's death (who comes back later on) and her cousin powerless (he regains his powers later on), but she came back to a relieved Y/N, hugging her pretty tight as he missed her so much, though she briefly lost her memories about being sent to the future where she was with the Legion of Superheroes within the 31st century (which she would found out it was actually Earth-Prime's 30th century, not her Earth's future) he revealed to her that she was gone for over a year, prompting in her showering him in kisses.

Through looking for a secret identity to roam as a normal Human with Y/N's help (as he's done it for a while) to trying out to join the Outsiders with Captain Boomerang II's request, Y/N supported her but ultimately found out that she was being tested rather than trusting her which almost got Y/N and another member into a fight with Nightwing getting in between them, Kara would instead not join the team upon knowing she was being tested.

But after Breaking the Chain, Cry for Justice (where she joined a Justice League group for a brief time) and the Dark Crisis? Their relationship was taken to the next level after the many tiring months they spent together fighting side by side...

Where she would rock his world for the first time, and her own world too, knowing she was all his and only his for as long as it could last.

*

(First Smut warning here)

Within Kara's apartment, her outfit was seen on the floor, first her high-knee boots as it went from that to her yellow loose belt and blue skirt, to the trousers Y/N wore with his integrated suit of armour, to his shirt as the device that activates his armour on command, is seen on the living room table.

Eventually... It leads up to panties and boxers on the floor to Kara's crop top and attached cape were on the floor beside the bed where Kara's pleasured moans were heard as she rode on top of her boyfriend, his cock penetrating her clitoris.

Her moans softly reached his ears as he kept thrusting up in her, desperate for him to go faster and also harder, her bounces connecting with his upper thrusts.

They've been at it for 30 minutes, she really wasn't kidding when she could rock his world, this was her first time along with his.

And eventually... They finished inside each other... Two of them panting uncontrollably as Kara crashed her body into him, letting the juices escape her womanhood, combined with hers and her boyfriend's.

"So? Ready for round two handsome??" she would ask him after 5 minutes went by...

* 

They both went through a lot after the entire Dark Crisis, Kara especially. He's been there for her so many times where she needed it most and she couldn't be more happier with that, especially with finding the joined city of Kandor and Argo within a bottle aboard Brainiac's ship.

This discovery was named New Krypton by Kara and was released and re-sized to normal size where it would reside on Earth for a while, she was so happy to see her people alive, to re-connect with so many she missed, to once again, to roam the now joined cities Kandor and Argo, as she didn't want to spend it alone she wanted Y/N to experience it with her, to step foot in a Kryptonian which made history as he was the first ever Xolanian to step foot within it.

She got to meet her birth parents once more, Alura and Zor-El, where she revealed her relationship with Y/N, the Xolanian Warrior, at first they were a little sceptical but upon meeting him, their scepticism went down the drain.

"Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Y/N L/N, the Xolanian Warrior" she kindly introduces them to him, she wrapped her arm around his after he approached.

"Though our kind and Xolanians don't have a very fond history with each other, we're so sorry for what you've been through, Kara has told us all about you, and we're so happy for her, which we want to say thank you from the bottom of our hearts, for protecting her, for being there for her when we could not" Alura greeted him as he smiled at her greeting.

"You don't need to thank me, you should thank Kal-El and your beautiful Daughter here, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have never seen Kryptonians differently as I did before" he switched it round as Kara kissed him on the cheek.

But as all things do go well, it doesn't stay forever...

*

Under General Lane's orders (Lois Lane's father), with the amount of Kryptonians living on Earth and the fear of a possible alien invasion from the Kryptonians, he ordered both Reactron and Metallo to invade Kandor with Gold Kryptonite, and slaughter as many Kryptonians they could find, that included Zor-El, this was Kara's biggest tragedy, which the following events afterwards, changed everything in her life.

(Zor-El's death)

Due to this tragedy... Alura used Sunstone technology and uprooted Kandor out of Earth into outer space and placed into geosynchronous orbit, directly opposite of the Earth itself.

The US Government took action by barring all Kryptonians (except Superman) from staying on Earth, that included Supergirl, which enraged Y/N but he chose to stay on Kandor, to protect the remaining Kryptonians living on Kandor where Kara would have to stay... But not for long.

Zor-El's death also struck Y/N hard, before his death, Y/N wanted to ask her a very important question which involved a Kryptonian made ring, he went to Zor-El and Alura about it first, he was given the green light after telling them how much Kara meant to him, wanting to ask her the biggest question of his life, to marry on New Krypton under Kryptonian Standards, but unfortunately, those plans were cut due to the following events afterwards.

*

(Superman: War of the Supermen)

Things got worse after Zor-El's death, there was the Hunt for Reactron, Superwoman's appearance who was in fact General Lane's daughter Lucy, to everything leading up from New Krypton's Last Stand to the complete War of the Supermen where New Krypton was destroyed, the Military Guild of Krypton led by Zod was ready to invade Earth, an enraged Supergirl who was furious after Alura's death at the hands of Reactron, of Luthor, blamed Earth for New Krypton's destruction and with carrying the flag of Krypton, she raced toward Earth to join the war effort...

Only to be stopped by Y/N and Superman, who she attacked in a blind rage, angry at the both of them from preventing her to join the war effort.

"Do you have any, ANY idea what war can do to people? The amount of death and destruction it can cause!?" he arms his weapon, charging it up as it trilled extensively as he gets ready to defend himself once more.

They had been fighting for a while throughout New Krypton's moon Callisto, his armour was torn a little but with no effort, Kara on the other hand, enraged and full with anger, had just finished fighting her cousin, only to be confronted by Y/N again, she was enraged by such action against her, against avenging her own people.

"OUT OF MY WAY Y/N! I WON'T LET YOU GET IN MY WAY LIKE MY COUSIN DID!! THEY NEED TO PAY!!! ~" she shouted at him, her eyes lighting up red, floating in the air as she was about to attack her boyfriend - "YOU SHOULD BE BY MY SIDE! NOT THEIR'S!!!" she was upset and angry with him, how could he betray her? Side with Earth by defending them from the crimes they committed to New Krypton's destruction?? From the many Kryptonians that were on New Krypton that got wiped in an instant due to the Gold Kryptonite Nuke placed inside Reactron.

"Is this what Alura and Zor-El would want? Earth destroyed? Purged? Earth is my home Kara! Our home!! Don't you remember that War destroyed my world... I won't let another world fall the same, I don't want to fight you, but if you must... Then so be it, if you're going to join the war effort to attack Earth? Then you'll have to get through me first" he hesitantly aimed his cannon at her - "One way... Or the other, one of us... Will fall, but do not let your anger blind you from who you are Kara Zor-El, this isn't what you are, Zor-El and Alura would never want you to become like Zod, or Ursa" he slightly growled as his mask forms back up, showing his war side to her as she began to realise what she was doing was wrong.

She looks at him, realising he's physically trying to defend himself from her, his words get through to her head, she looks at the damage she inflicted upon him and her cousin, she looked at him and knew he was serious, she never saw this side of him before, battle mask formed up, him scolding her and he's NEVER scolded her before which gave her a reality check.

In that moment... She breaks down, tears fall down her face immediately as she dropped the flag of Krypton, blaming herself for New Krypton's destruction.

"It's all my fault, I brought Reactron to New Krypton, I caused it all!!" she shouted through tears, weeping at herself as Y/N's cannon powered down, his battle mask deactivating as he kneels down to her level and pulls her in, she digs her face into his chest as she lets it all out, blaming herself over and over.

"Don't blame yourself my Little Sunshine, none of this is your fault. They played us for fools, General Lane is attempting to wage war to hail himself a War Hero in the Human's eyes, he doesn't care what happens to them ~" he pulled back, looking at the teary eyed Kara as more tears fell down, but he wiped them away with one motion of his thumb - "Someone tried doing the same on Xola, look what happened afterwards... Earth is in danger, Zod and the Military Guild will wreak havoc if we don't stop them... But revenge will not bring back what is lost, you know I've been through that, you're not alone" he assured her as she sniffled and gloomed, looking at him with regret and pain.

She knew he was right, he'd been through war, he's seen death and the destruction it would bring, she knew if they didn't stop Zod and the Military Guild, Earth will be in total chaos and uninhabitable for Human kind, and that revenge won't bring New Krypton back, nor her mother, nor her father.

"I love you Kara, you know I'll never leave your side, no matter happens, we'll get through this loss together, let it fuel our strength" he smiled, wiping away a few more of Kara's tears.

"I love you too Y/N" she responded through a sob, hugging him tightly, not wanting to let go of him... She needed this consolation from him, especially after the death of her birth mother and the destruction of New Krypton

She sniffles a little more before rubbing her arm across her eyes to wipe away the remaining tears after breaking the long, comforting hug, as his words replayed in her head from earlier, of what war did to his world, refusing to let Earth fall the same.

Deep down... She viewed Earth as her home too, though not many wanted her around, she still viewed it as home, thanks to Y/N and her cousin, along with her friends and Earth family.

"Okay. Okay, You're right Y/N ~" she began to get up - "What do we do now?" she asked him, fists clenched.

"We go to Earth and do everything we can to defuse this insanity until we find an answer to all of this, and save lives in the meantime ~" he stood up with her - "As I said before, I won't let another planet go to ruin over a war, a war that can bring chaos and devastation to the Human race, that I swear deep within my soul, will not happen this day, or any other day... They all must be stopped... No matter the cost ~" he clenched his fist as his battle mask activates - "I have a shuttle I can use for transport to Earth, Zod and his forces would have arrived by now, we must make haste!"

They would join the war effort, which during on the way to Earth, the sun would be turned into a red sun with Superman, Supergirl and the remaining Kryptonians, struggle to breathe in space, Y/N managed to save Kal and Kara by bringing them into his shuttle, but the rest? He was too late, he only managed to save a few and that was it.

This managed to enrage Y/N, countless dead for nothing, Kryptonian or not, he knew their deaths were pointless, all to stop Zod and the others though the sun would revert back to normal not long after thanks to Thara-Ak-Var's (aka Flamebird) sacrifice to turn the sun yellow once more.

Once arriving to Earth to stop the war from tearing Earth apart, Kal went to wait for Zod and his followers at Metropolis while Kara and Y/N went to the white house to stop Ursa from killing the US President...

Though Y/N was questioned about almost killing Ursa upon seeing Kara being strangled to death and finding out that it was Ursa who killed Y/N's father during the Kryptonian Invasion of Xola, in a controlled rage, he fought violently against her, like he did during the Xolanian Civil War, she taunted him about his father, which would only prove to be her last, deadly mistake as he was not like the Xolanians she fought before, underestimating him even, before he could pull the trigger as she wanted him to, he stopped himself with the help of the rest of the Super Family that arrived in the nick of time, as this fight quite literally pushed him over the breaking limit, as he was reminded of his time in the civil war. This day changed him forever.

Near the end, Kara would've killed General Lane if both Y/N and Lois hadn't intervened, though he killed himself in the end rather than face justice for his crimes.

A funeral would be held for those who died on New Krypton, a Kryptonian flower was placed on its remains as a teary eyed Supergirl would fly off and arrive back on Y/N's shuttle, embracing him once more...

"Let it all out, let it all out" he cooed, hugging her tightly as she wouldn't let go of him again... If she was going to grieve, he wouldn't let her grieve alone.

*

After all of that? Kara and Y/N's lives had changed forever, she would stop being Supergirl at one point, going Linda Lang full time, ditching her birth name: Kara Zor-El, though both Lana and Y/N convinced her to pick up the mantle of Supergirl and Kara Zor-El again upon the threat of Bizarrogirl.

She admitted to miss flying and carrying Y/N when she flew around Earth, it was something rather special for the both of them.

Posing like her cousin once did - "Okay, I gotta admit...

...I missed this"

(A/N: Does anyone else find this part of the comic pretty cute when she poses like that? She's such a bean in the New Earth comics at times, literally my favourite incarnation of the Maiden of Might, the Girl of Steel and I... L O V E it, plus... I honestly just wanna hug her so bad, she's been through so much pain as it is and I feel so bad, if only I could give her a hug to tell her it's alright. Believe it or not fellow readers... I refer to her at times, especially with pain and loss, feeling like an outsider to the world because you're different than everyone, and they pick on you because you're different, especially since I'm Autistic. Without her? Without Kara Zor-El/Supergirl? I don't even know where I'd be right now)

She missed being Supergirl, she missed saving lives, kicking ass and taking names and she was happy to pick up the outfit again.

After so... She agreed to take Y/N flying once more.

"I missed taking us up here" Kara said while looking up toward the sky, taking herself and Y/N up into the clouds.

"I did too, this is where we had our first kiss believe it or not" he chuckled, Kara looked at him and could only smile at the sudden call back of a memory.

"I've never stopped thinking about that, which reminds me" she giggled as she drew her face closer to his, connecting her lips on his no long after, sharing a deep kiss as Kara remained stationary above the clouds, holding her one true love.

"I love you so freaking much y'know that?" Y/N murmured, making the Girl of Steel giggle as she stole another kiss from him.

"I know... I love you more than anything in this world Y/N ~" Kara spoke through the kiss, breaking it to speak more clearly so she could speak with to her heart's intent about him - "thank you so much for being there for me when I needed it most, I don't know where I'd be without feeling your touch, to hear your voice, your heartbeat, to see your presence and when you're not around, I try to listen for your heartbeat, and I worry so much when I can't hear it because I'm not whole without you, I'm not myself... I'm so lucky to have someone like you who loves me the same, who I can always wake up beside and see your eyes the first thing in the morning... You're like... The Sun to my Flowers, the Yin to my Yang, my Badass Warrior, because I adore you" Kara smiled as brightly as she could with her boyfriend grinning at her statement, which resulted in them kissing deeply once more, as the stars and moon shined bright like a diamond, setting up the perfect scenery for the two love birds.

She still blamed herself for New Krypton's destruction and even dreamt of being back on it, Y/N would deny that it was her fault, though she didn't want to admit it... She knew he was right, it wasn't her fault still, but to use that memory to keep moving forward, knowing that's what Alura and Zor-El would want her to do.

she felt so lucky to have someone like Y/N by her side, she felt special to him and that's all that mattered...

*

(Legion of Superheroes... Again?)

At this point in time after the whole Bizarrogirl situation was dealt and heading out of Bizarro-World with a rocket ship and ultimately for Kara, she... AGAIN, went to the future. 

But this time, it wasn't the 30th century she was familiar with and she wasn't alone, Y/N was with her still after the Bizarro-World situation, The Legion welcomed the two in, Kara decides with Y/N agreeing to stay in the future and work for the Legion for a while, both given a Legion Flight ring but he didn't use it, he had other alternatives.

Kara would visit the Superman Museum with her boyfriend, where she finds out how she dies, facing off against the most powerful threat in the entire universe, the Multiverse to be exact, the threat isn't revealed but she has a sense of what it could be, she doesn't tell him this but finds out either way, promising she won't die alone, he'll be there with her.

They both would be interrupted by Satan Girl, an Alien Death Goddess that was drawn to Earth when Brainiac-5 experimented on a statue offered up to her. Together with Brainy, they put a stop to Satan Girl, even going as far as going back within the timestream to stop her.

Not long after, Saturn Girl, Lightning Lad (who made a friend in Y/N and give Lightning Lad the nickname: 'Sparky'), Cosmic Boy and Brainiac-5 would bring Supergirl and Y/N back to the present, where Kara revealed to her boyfriend that - "This is the happiest I've been in years, I love going on these types of adventures with you, it's something... Different for us, and I love it" she would kiss him, before flying up into the portal with carrying her one true love. Saturn Girl would wipe Kara's knowledge of knowing how she died, along with Y/N's knowledge of knowing it too.

Both Supergirl and Y/N would go back to the future sometimes, to help the Legion with any issues but one of them... Wasn't a pleasant day to visit... For both the love birds.

Unfortunately... Lightning Lad would die due to his heroic sacrifice, both Kara and Y/N showed up for the funeral.

"Sparky, you are amongst the bravest of us all, I wished I would've been there to fight side by side with you as you reminded me of another back on Xola, If I could give my life to bring you back, I would... But... You deserve to rest, you need it... As a wise spokesman said... Till All Are One" he gave a speech to his friend, which moved the hearts of many that were there for the funeral, Kara would give a similar speech too.

*

(Their War, Our World)

(A/N: This is a huge Transformers reference I just dropped, holy moly this phrase 'Their War, Our World' hasn't been used in years and I mean all the way back in 2007, I wish we could go back to witness it all over again)

(PS: I might make a full out story out of 'Their War, Our World', but what do you think? Should I do it at some point in the near future?)

Months would pass by along the way, Kara would join the new Justice League of America with Wonder Woman's vote to allow her to join, also allowing Y/N to join not long after though he wasn't very sure at the time but... He couldn't resist when Kara urged him to join up, even going as far as putting on her puppy dog eyes to convince him which worked...

All the way to the formation of the Supermen of America where Kara was the founding member of.

It was also occurrent that a Multiversal event happened where heroes and villains alike from different timelines, continuities, universes all grouped up since the entire Multiverse was threatened by one entity and its own army, this entity had a thousand names, it spoke with many voices but it only spoke one name...

And its goal was to Shape the entire universe... Which would've ended everything at once.

It was not recorded of what exactly happened, but the only thing that came out of it... Was that Supergirl survived... Xolanian Y/N's Supergirl lived, though it was said that she would die within her timeline but... sometimes... Fates can be broken.

At least two months after the huge event that transpired, Y/N would receive an unexpected recorded message, from an old friend and leader of the Xolar Resistance - Hyrix Maximus.

"Y/N, I pray this message reaches you, though the war rages on, not all hope is lost, we now have the means to revive Xola and turn the tides of the war, if you hear this message, I have a new task for you, establish a base on Earth in secret, so we can rebuild and return home to retake what was lost, stay safe solider... I am coming"

This message raised hope of seeing Xola thrive once more and hearing that Hyrix Maximus was alive and still leading, had reversed his thoughts that the war was lost but not over yet or that he was the last of his kind.

Kara intrigued to help him complete his new task of establishing a hidden base, though she feared that another New Krypton situation would happen, he assured her it won't, though he also had fears the warwould be brought here to Earth as they didn't need another alien war happening on Earth again.

She was happy to know that his planet would have life thrive again, but she felt... Saddened about it, knowing he would be leaving Earth to go back to Xola when the civil war ends.

As stated, he wanted Kara to go there with him, to see it's full restoration though she wasn't entirely sure as she wanted to stay on Earth, she felt gloomy about him possibly leaving Earth for good, which resulted in her having a nervous breakdown over, she got over it quick with her two of her best friend's help being Cassie Sandsmark and Stephanie Brown, but they never told Y/N about it.

Soon after with the arrival with Hyrix Maximus and the Resistance, it brought unwanted attention to Earth as Y/N feared.

The US government along with the President were warned of this immediately, more aliens arriving to Earth, bringing even more chaos but if it wasn't for Y/N's words, the Xolar Resistance would have Humans targeting them too, Hyrix Maximus and the Resistance had to reveal themselves to the public and speak with the President in person, showing they aren't the ones to fear but the Releimors are, their sworn enemy.

"Our greatest warrior, scout and good friend Y/N, filled me in with the details of what has happened on planet Earth recently, we know you have all just gotten out of an invasion from the Kryptonian Race and though we have a history with them, I am more than proud to call the Kryptonians that defend Earth, 'ally' in this current situation, our civil war has lasted for centuries. Our planet, Xola, had become uninhabitable for all of our kind, forcing us to journey throughout the stars where our war would rage on throughout the cosmos, we lost contact with Y/N during the final days of Xola, where his pod would land on Earth, where he presumably lived amongst you all for some time, I know he has been defending your planet for quite some time now but with the threat of our war coming here to Earth? I cannot imagine pulling you all into our war, the Releimors had detected our ship upon arriving to your galaxy and gave chase until it was too late for us to detect them... We will do our best to protect your planet, amongst the new allies we have met"

The war continued for some time on Earth, the government set up a conjoined team of the Xolar Resistance and Team ETN (Extra-Terrestrial Neutralisers) to fend off this new threat with the help of the Supermen of America and the New Justice League.

Y/N got himself back into a bitter rivalry with someone who was his equal named Araxis, a foe who tried many times to get in his head by taunting him about his new friends... Including his girlfriend.

There would be a point where Y/N was injured severely during a 1 vs 3 as backup was on the way, he fended off as hard as he could but it was all he could handle, being tossed around, getting his mask shattered, impaled by blades. Before his fate could be sealed, it was Supergirl who saved him with the Supermen of America and his old squad called Squadron Elite, a group he once commanded.

Despite being injured, he wasn't allowed to fight on the front again till he was 100%, at this time, during this time, Kara would mostly stay on the Xolanian Ship codenamed 'Ark' where the injured Y/N was. There... She met a Xolanian friend through Y/N named Caria.

When it came to the time of his condition being cleared, Kara wanted to have a chat with him about Xola, wanting to know if he was really thinking of going back.

"Hey..." Kara called out from leaning against the medical bay door as one of the Xolanian doctors cleared him for duty.

"Hey Sunshine" he smiled as the doctor would leave the room on par with Y/N's request to leave them for 5 minutes or so.

"I wanted to know if... It's true" Kara asked as she fidgeted with her cape nervously.

"What's true?" he asked her with an eyebrow raised.

"If.... If you're really going back to... To Xola after this" she asked with her head down, her voice turning gloomy and sorrow.

"Kara, who said..." he stopped himself as Kara looked back at him with a somber facial expression with her eyes beginning to water.

All he could do was chuckle a little at Kara's silliness, tears began running down her face, she was in a gloomy state about it.

"Oh Kara, come here" he extends his arms out to her as she immediately hugs him tightly, her arms wrapped around his as she sobbed quietly.

"I d-don't want you t-to go" she wept, digging her face into his chest as he chuckled silently at her.

"Don't be silly Sunshine, who says I'm going back?" he asked her, he couldn't stop smiling at how silly Kara was being but he knew she must've had a nervous breakdown over this and never told him.

"You're going b-back aren't y-you?" she once again sobbed into his chest.

Y/N began running his hand through Kara's hair, keeping his smile as he comforted her, her continued sobbing was enough to make him realise she was upset about it, yes he was thinking of going back but after much clear thought of leaving Earth, of leaving everyone he knew behind, of leaving Kara Zor-El behind? He knew he couldn't live to bear with that.

Before he could make his decision final, he spoke with Hyrix Maximus and a few others, knowing if he could go back at any point but not to stay but to simply visit, and it was given the green light, knowing he could bring anyone with him as the atmosphere could fit Humans.

It brought him to this moment, consoling his crying Kryptonian girlfriend, his Ball of Sunshine.

"Kara, don't be silly okay? I'm not going back to stay" he replied after a minute with a chuckle, her ears perked up at this as she looked up at him.

"Wh-What? You're... You're not going?" she sniffled, in a look of sorrow.

"Yes, I'm not going back to stay, I'm staying here ~" he wiped away a dried tear on her cheek - "with you and the others, and I now know what you mean about you not being whole without me, I don't even know what I'd do without you ~" he smiled at her, wiping away another tear off her face with his thumb, caressing her cheek - "Kara Zor-El you Adorable Bean, Ball of Fluff, my Ray of Sunshine... I. Adore you" he finished, pulling her into a deep kiss as she wrapped her arms around the crook of his neck.

"I adore you too, Badass Warrior" she spoke through the kiss, not letting him go, her mind being brought to ease as she missed his touch...

For the next few months... They have been fighting back the rising threat, eventually ending it with the death of the Releimors' leader, once a brother to Hyrix: Doma-Thrash a power-hungry tyrant. 

With the war ended, Hyrix and the remaining Xolanians left for Xola, despite Y/N thinking of going back with them... He promised he'd stay on Earth, with his true love Kara Zor-El/Supergirl, but was always welcomed back to Xola whenever he would visit, especially with guests he would bring with him.

And indeed did he pay a visit to Xola after its restoration, he brought along his girlfriend and a few others (Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake and M'gann M'orzz)

Quite say that they enjoyed themselves, learning the many things about Xola and its history.

Kara especially enjoyed herself the most, being empowered by the likes of a blue sun which enhances the Photonucleic Effect on her, making her extremely more powerful than the likes of a yellow sun though she had to be tad extra careful in case she broke something due to her enhanced power.

This definitely helped when Hyrix Maximus called for Y/N's help to find escaped Reileimor war criminals, it was the most fun she's had in a while hunting down escaped convicts of Xola, helping the Xolanian people that day, which would make history as the first Kryptonian to step foot on Xola and help the Xolanians.

Quite say that she felt honoured, knowing she was well liked amongst the Xolanian people which buried the hatchet between the Xolanians and Kryptonians though only a few Kryptonians remain.

*

(Present Day)

With everything they have all been through, Kara Zor-El and Y/N have never been more than happy with what they have now.

With all their struggles dealt with, the happy moments, the sad moments, the fighting, the tragedies, the death, the deceit, the ups and downs, the blood, sweat and tears... They stuck together.

He was 'The Yin to Her Yang, the Sunshine to her Flowers, Badass Warrior'

And she was his 'Ray of Sunshine, Adorable Bean, Ball of Fluff' 

And she couldn't be more happier with him as he was with her.

Their relationship still blooms, their undying love for each other, the way they make each other feel.

It almost felt magical to them, they've both been through so much and it's brought them up to this point in time.

"Quite beautiful isn't it?" Kara asked him, she stared out at the ocean as the sun shined on it, beginning to settle down for the night.

They were currently celebrating Kara's 19th Earth birthday, she held his hand as they both sat watching the calm oceans, the peaceful winds blowing through them as Kara's cape gracefully flapped around softly.

 "Yeah it still is... But I got a better sight in front of me" he replied as he looked at her, referring to Kara as she giggled, giving him a peck on the lips afterwards for the compliment.

"I guess you're also a better sight too" she smiled ear to ear before giving him another peck on the lips, resting her head on his shoulder afterwards.

He felt a little nervous, he wanted to ask her something very, VERY important for the longest time, a question he wanted to ask her before Zor-El's death.

He wanted Kara to bring them here to watch the sun set and the calm ocean because this is where their relationship would flutter into something beautiful, where she was learning Earth culture through him, they sat. In this exact. Same. Spot, where he revealed his past, who he was and why he was on Earth.

This spot meant a lot to him, it's where his trust in Kryptonians opened up brightly due to Kara, she was special to him as he was to her.

"Kara... I need to tell you something" he breaks the silence as she looks at him lovingly.

"mmhm, what's up?" she hummed happily, staring at him as she waited for him to answer.

"I uh... Uhm... For the longest time, I never thought I'd be here, right now, with you, watching the sun set and the calm oceans... We've been through so much you and I ~" he started off as Kara listened in what he had to say - "Through all of our struggles, through the blood, sweat and tears, I've never been so happy to have met you, who has changed my life for the better and I believe I've done the same for you ~" he says with some stutters and with a huge smile on his face as she kept looking on with her own smile - "Before, New Krypton's destruction, before Zor-El's death, I asked him and Alura a question, a very important question and I was given the green light" Kara began to get confused at this, what question did he ask them? Why was he given the green light?

"Y/N, what are you trying to tell me?" she chuckled with confusion, she was completely anonymous what he had to say.

"Can you, stand up for me? Please?" he asked her kindly with a warm smile, though nervous, he felt butterflies in his stomach as the question was drawing near.

"Y/N? What's going on? Why are you acting like this??" she asked him curiously and confused as anything, her eyebrow raised up as she giggled.

"I just..." he stopped himself as he laughed nervously, she looked completely worried for him as he was acting quite odd, but laughed with him.

"I don't know why you're acting like this but..." she stopped herself as her cousin appeared along with Lois and a few others of the Supermen of America (Which included John Henry/Steel, Conner Kent aka Superboy, the reformed Leslie Willis aka Livewire and the Super-Chief himself) along with them were her best friends: Cassie Sandsmark aka Wonder-Girl, Stephanie Brown aka Batgirl, and Jesse Quick, Lana Lang, her adoptive Earth mom and Dick Grayson himself aka Nightwing who Kara saw as a brother to herself along with him viewing her as a sister.

"Wait? Uh, what're you all doing here?" she chuckled nervously, she kept her smile knowing all of the people close to her were here.

"Just wanted to see this moment for ourselves too, after all you might want to look back at Y/N, he's got something for you" Lois winked.

Upon hearing this and seeing the general surprise and happiness on everyone's faces, Kara looked back at her boyfriend, only to see him on one knee, holding her hand as he held a special, little box in his hand that was open...

And it revealed a special ring in it, the glistening jewels, Kryptonian made, struck Kara's eyes immediately as she realised what was happening, she looked back up at his eyes, her eyes widening at the realisation, of what type of question he meant.

The one where their relationship gets taken to a new level, beyond boyfriend and girlfriend.

His smile was brighter than before as Kara gasped, her free hand covering her mouth as her eyes began to fill with tears... Happy tears as her heart fluttered and began to race faster.

"I've been waiting... For a l-long time, to ask you this question ~" he said with glee stuttering a little as he couldn't contain his inner joy, looking into Kara's beautiful blue rays as they lit up with tears, falling down on her face - "Kara, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever met, I wouldn't imagine what my life would've been without you by my side, and I wake up everyday thinking about that... I want to spend the rest of my life with you as I have been wanting to ask this very, VERY important question, one year in the making, though Alura and Zor-El are not here to witness this, I know they're watching in Rao's light above, knowing how proud they are of the woman I've known to love has become, who has come a long way ~" he continued as he began to chuckle, Kara began to happily sob at his words, now understanding what he meant by her birth parents giving him the green light ages ago, he wanted to ask her this question on New Krypton - "Kara Zor-El, Linda Lang, Supergirl... I have one question for you... Will you marry me?" he finished off the question, waiting for her to answer as a few sniffles could be heard from Lana in the background, along with Cassie's little sobs.

"Y-Yes... Yes, yes!!" Kara yelped happily through her sobs, she pulled him up for a deep kiss as the two were applauded by the group, happy for the two newly weds.

After the deep kiss, Y/N slid the ring on her finger, knowing it fitted, Kara pulls him in for another deep kiss as they were praised and congratulated by their friends and family afterwards, not only that... Y/N was given a signal watch by Clark, officially welcoming him into the Supermen of America, with Supergirl's request.

Everyone agreed to go back to Kara's apartment, as some other guests would soon arrive for Kara's birthday after the whole busy day of patrolling as their heroic selves.

Even one of the Xolanians who Kara made a friend with named Caria, came to visit, not wanting to miss out on her Kryptonian friend's Earth birthday which was pretty unexpected.

"Caria?! Wasn't expecting you to visit?" Y/N was shocked to see his old teammate from Squadron Elite, the two embracing in a hug afterwards.

"Yeah of course I'd be here dummy! Wouldn't want to miss my friend's birthday" she replied, punching his arm playfully as the door closed behind her after walking in.

Kara heard Caria's voice from across the room and couldn't keep her excitement contained, it was a while since she last saw her.

"Caria!!!" Kara immediately hugged her friend, giggling as she lifted her up with her hug.

"Eh, you can put me down because you're sl-slightly crushing me! ~" she managed to word out, Kara placed her back down on the ground - "I uh... Didn't get you anything though, sorry about that though" she rubbed the back of her neck which Kara giggled.

"It's alright, the best gift is definitely the friends and family you make" she replied, looking back at the packed apartment" 

"Well, that makes me feel a bit better and ~" Caria stopped her words for a moment as she noticed something on Kara's finger, a ring - "is that?" she asked, grasping her friend's hand as she looked at it closer.

"Oh, yeah, earlier on, this handsome guy right here asked me a very important question... And I said yes" Kara answered her question, looking right at him as he smiled.

"You're. Getting. Married? You're getting married!?? By the Knights of Xola, you're getting married!???" Caria repeated, hugging her long time friend, congratulating both Kara and Y/N for the announcement.

"Surprise haha, yeah me and my Super-Fiancé here are getting married, we haven't began working on plan for the wedding but... I'm sure we'll figure it all out tonight when everyone's left" Y/N confirmed, holding Kara's hand after Caria breaks the hug with him.

"Wait till I tell your Uncle about this, he needs to hear the news about this!" Caria was already excited upon this. 

They all chatted for a while, each and everyone got to talk and congratulate Kara and Y/N on the big moment, a moment one year in the making with Kara boasting with her friends - "Best Birthday Ever!"

When it came to the time for everyone to leave, they said their goodbyes and left, which Kara's apartment slowly began to get less packed than before, eventually only leaving both herself and her new Fiancé alone together as the night sky was filled with the stars and moon.

You both watched a movie together, cuddled up on the couch with a blanket made of Kryptonian fibres to keep warmth, both of you eating a take-a-way of her choice since it was her birthday before eating a bit of her birthday cake as a little treat while watching a movie of her choice.

Streaky, Kara's loveable, adorable orange cat would come up to cuddle in between you two, purring loudly as he was stroked by both of you... Where he would later get off and rest in his bed... Typical cat stuff.

Upon the end of the movie, you looked at your Fiancé, wondering if she liked the ring, after all... It was Kryptonian made...

"So? You like the ring?" Y/N asked her, she looked down at it and couldn't help but smile brightly.

"Yes! I love it so much!" Kara sounded like a little girl before hugging her now Fiancé, the two sharing a kiss afterwards.

"It's Kryptonian made, had it made within the Fortress of Solitude believe it or not, with your cousin's permission of course" Y/N spoke after pulling back as Kara glanced at the ring with a huge grin on her face.

"Out of everything? This is probably the best gift I've gotten ~" she couldn't stop smiling at the ring, the jewels perfectly crafted, Kryptonian jewels shining bright in her eyes... It was perfect - "But... I think the best gift overall... Is you" Kara looked at her Fiancé with a big smirk, giggling at the thought.

"Aww Baby, I'm touched" he clutched at his heart, flattered by the compliment as the two giggled afterwards before kissing deeply.

Kara's hands move up his shirt, feeling his soft skin in her hands as they move up to his chest inside his shirt meanwhile his hand slowly move down to her thigh as his other caresses her cheek, both smiling as they touch each other and their lips connecting in fruition.

"I have an idea where we could have our wedding day" Y/N spoke through the kiss, slowly pulling back.

"Where? Xola maybe?" Kara guessed as Y/N's eyes slightly widened.

"How'd you know?" he asked her with a chuckle, surprised she guessed what he was thinking.

"two minds think alike, I know how you think babe, it's not hard" she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I guess you can, could be one of your secret superpowers" he winked back, a giggle escaping Kara's mouth before engaging in another kiss, expected to just be a quick one.

But... Kara wouldn't stop, she inherently kept going, pushing herself into his lips, engaging in a tongue dance with his, moaning ever slightly as she began to get on top of him upon removing the blanket they had, she began kissing down on him.

Y/N's hands were placed on her swaying hips, grinding on his growing bulge which made him groan a little at her effort, her tongue dominated his, winning the tongue battle as she kept grinding on him.

"Oh fuuuck" Kara breathed out as she pulled back, the two breathing heavily with a string of saliva keeping them connected.

Y/N looked deep into Kara's eyes, she was filled with a hot sensation, something he hasn't seen from her since she rocked his world ages ago, it has been so long since they did this.

"Wow Sunshine, that was... Unexpected" the man smirked with a chuckle escaping from him, Kara let's a cute giggle escape from her throat with a grin, going back in to continue where she left off, this time with her hands slowly going back up his shirt, feeling his smooth body, turning her on as she continued kissing him and grinding on his manhood through his pants.

"Can I rock your world again?" Kara whispers, he never heard that in a while, she was filled with lust he hadn't seen in ages.

"Well Kara? You can rock my world any day, my Super-Fiancé" he smirked before pulling her into a deep kiss, his hands ran down her body, making her moan quietly with ecstasy, getting turned on even further as she ran her hand down into his pants, getting a good grip of his growing bulge which resorted to him groaning her name into her ear and she missed it when he would do it.

But then she stops and pulls back with a smirk, getting off of him and the couch, walking over to a safe area.

(Smut incoming!)

She then winked and disappeared in a blur before returning as Supergirl, resulting in making him smile as her hands were on her hips, a smirk growing on her face - "Figured I'd get in uniform for this ~" Y/N noticed she wasn't wearing her skirt, showing her underwear as she suddenly appeared in front of him, climbing on top of him and getting to his level to make their faces level up with each other - "What was it you said earlier on? My Super-Fiancé? You're damn right I am" she giggled before kissing him deeply as she grinded on his bulge, making him groan again.

Their tongues battled for dominance once more as his hands reached for the glyph on her crop top, where he squeezed her breasts as she moaned his name as she kept grinding until his hands then went to her ass, massaging them next as she moaned a second time, loving the feeling of his hands on her little ass, she stops grinding on him as this gave him the opportunity to slide his hand down her underwear to then rub her clit softly and slowly, making her moan in ecstasy.

She rocked her head back, biting her bottom lip as two fingers went up in her clit.

"Oh Y/N yes!" she moaned softly, as his fingers explored the cavern, slowly wagging his two fingers inside as they both stared into each other's eyes next.

Kara's mouth was wide open, letting out a few moans before they were silenced by a deep kiss from her partner, then went for her neck, kissing and surprisingly leaving hickeys afterwards, despite her skin being impenetrable 

He kept it going with the motion within her clitoris, as the vaginal walls began to get a little tighter and wetter by every minute that passed, he wouldn't stop till he felt bumpy in her clit and then proceeded to play with that, knowing exactly what it was.

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna cum! ~" Kara moaned out, prompting him to continue a little longer, her moans getting louder and louder till she was brought to orgasm - "Ohhh yessss!! Fuck yesss!!" she shouted in ecstasy as she orgasmed, which the force of her shout knocked over a few things within the apartment, even scaring poor Streaky from his sleep.

His fingers exit her entrance and are brought out to Kara where she sucked on them to taste her own fluids.

 After things calmed down and another deep kiss, she got off of him and immediately began pulling his jeans and underwear off with incredible strength where her face would be hit by his cock.

She smirked while looking at it, hungry to suck on it, lick it, anything she could possibly do with it, making her lust grow bigger.

"Can I?" she asked him kindly, he nodded at her question as she would giggle afterwards.

Her eyes couldn't stop staring at it before she took a long lick up the shaft, before doing it again, again and again, then using her hand to stroke it gently with swift movement, up and down, up and down, slowly and smoothly.

She lived to hear your groans and moans, it filled her with determination, confidence, making her even more hornier as your moans and groans.

The Kryptonian stopped stroking and used her own spit to lubricate it before beginning to suck on it, slowly bobbing her head to get used to the taste again, since she hadn't sucked it for a while, moving her golden hair to one part as she continued her work.

"Oh Kara, by the Golden Light" Y/N groaned in ecstasy, rocking his head back on the couch as she did her job to please her new Fiancé, using her tongue to swirl it around his tip, she kept going and going.

A little pop sound was heard which was the sound of his cock leaving her mouth, using this opportunity to lick his shaft again from the bottom to the top, pleasuring him more.

She then giggled before going back to sucking again, starting off slow again but as time went on... It got faster, and faster, and faster... She began to gag on his cock, hitting the back of her throat as she bobbed her head with quickness which was making him squirm a little.

"Kara..." he couldn't get his other words out, the pleasure was too much for him to speak but luckily, she stopped before he could get close to blowing his load inside her mouth.

"That tasted so good ~" she licked her lips, tasting the pre-cum along with giving his shaft one last lick - "I think it's time we went to the next step" she smirked before getting up to his face and kissed him deeply again, making out as she slipped off her panties, beginning to massage her wet pussy.

Y/N stood up and allowed her to position herself on the couch, where her cape covered her ass - "oops sorry hehe" she giggled, moving her cape out the way to show off her ass, swaying it in the air for him to look at.

"You are gorgeous, you know that?" Y/N flirted, fuelling Kara's needs for his compliments, making her all flustered and the evermore hornier.

She giggled cutely, still swaying her ass till it hit her partner's thighs, his cock resting on her ass.

"C'mon put it in ~" she begged, looking right back at him as she laughed in a pleasant manner, she jiggled a little before he gave in, aiming his cock for her pussy just to tease her a little bit more - "Oh stop it! Stop teasing me!" she moaned, cutely giggling afterwards before feeling his tip at her entrance, her eyes widening as it slowly entered inside her pussy.

"Oh I missed that feeling" Y/N moaned, rocking his head back as her vaginal walls wrapped around his cock, slowly thrusting in and out.

Kara's moans were as soft as a blanket, as she felt his shaft slip in and out, in and out, over and over again, she balanced herself with her hands on the couch, her cape beginning to sway a little as he kept thrusting slowly.

"Go a little faster" she begged, biting her bottom lip again as her words fell on his ears, his cock began to slip in and out a little faster than before, picking up to a normal set of pace as more moans escaped the Kryptonian's mouth.

She closed her eyes, biting her lip a little harder, enjoying the feeling of his cock inside her.

The couch's legs began to make a noise as you picked up speed - "go faster Y/N, faster and harder" she begged once more, his thrusts picking up more speed before his thighs would start clapping off of her ass.

"Oh Rao yes! Oh. Fuck. Fuck! Yes!!" Kara moaned with hedonism, combined with your groans and in-between breaths, her tongue stuck out as you picked up even more speed, going in and out faster, and faster, and faster.

Grabbing a part of her cape, pulling her back and up a little as she began to giggle in pleasure - "Oh grabbing my cape now huh? You kinky fuck" she talks dirty, smiling hardly and laughing with indulgence

The couch began to move a little, scraping off the floor as the legs began to wobble, Kara began moaning pretty loud as the thrusting continued.

Her vaginal walls began enclosing on his cock, his tip hitting the G-spot.

"Oh fuck!! I'm gonna-I'M GONNA CUM!!!" she shouted as more speed began building up.

Kara let go as she powerfully orgasmed which everything within the apartment began to shake, even the table began moving a little, pictures were knocked off tables and the walls, the TV on the unit moved with Kara's powerful, uncontrolled orgasm and the couch was beginning to break before... *SNAP! CRASH!*

The couch's legs snapped in half, resulting in Y/N crashing into Kara as she finished her orgasm.

Despite the mess they just made of the apartment, they didn't care if things were broken or knocked over, all it mattered now was that he needed to get to orgasm.

"Let's take this to the bedroom" Kara suggested through her in-between breaths.

Immediately, she brought you to the bedroom, where the fun would continue, dumping you on the bed as she climbed on you, guiding your cock into her entrance.

"Oh fuck!!" Kara groaned as it entered her wet entrance, using her hips to slam down on his cock, bouncing up and down, up and down, not stopping till he had to orgasm, that was her mission now.

"How close are you?" she asked through a moan.

"Close" he groaned out, she kept bouncing up and down, over, and over again.

Rocking her head back, she began massaging her breasts through her crop top before lifting it up, revealing them as they bounced with her.

The Kryptonian moaned a few more times before laying down on his body, her face levelled with his as they began to make out, bouncing her ass on his cock as they both moaned and groaned through the kiss.

"Oh Kara, I'm..." he gave her the hint as he was ready to blow his load finally, she kept bouncing and using her hips to give herself an advantage before...

She felt his cock twitch, his hot load spewing up inside her as she moaned with satisfaction, crashing down into his body as the orgasm continued, both breathing hard, panting like they ran a huge marathon across the entire galaxy.

Her hair was messy, their bodies stuck together like glue, Kara looked at her Fiancé, getting his attention to kiss him deeply before getting off of his cock.

"That. That's the most fun I've had in a while" she giggled, staring down at him lovingly.

"Yeah... That was... An experience... I haven't had in a... Long time" he replied, out of breath.

The Kryptonian could only smile as she got out of her outfit, hanging it up in her closet, changing into her pj's as her Fiancé got up, slapping on a new pair of boxers to jump into bed with his smiling true love, thinking back to her powerful orgasm.

"What powerful orgasm that was huh?" he thought back at it, smiling at her.

"I had a fear that would happen but... It felt so good!" she said with satisfaction, cuddling into him after taking off her engagement ring, placing it at her bedside table for safe keeping.

"I could tell" he kissed her on the head as the latter giggle with each other, kissing straight after.

"Y'know? Where'd you think we'll have our honeymoon?" she asked him curiously, changing the subject.

"Hmm... We'll have it on Earth, recently looked into a place" he responded to her.

"Ohhh, what place?" she got excited, looking right up at him.

"It's a surprise ~" he told her, as she pouted and gave him puppy dog eyes next to try persuade him into telling her - "Okay, okay, you can stop that, It's Peru" he chuckled.

"Peru? Sounds lovely, been there a few times during my flights around the world" she smiled, feeling happy with her victory of persuasion.

"I bet you have" he chuckled in fruition with her giggle. 

You both looked into each other's eyes and only saw love in them, her love for you is like a flame that can't be snuffed out, your love for her is like an undying flower, always getting taken cared of with water and sunlight, showing your undying love for Kara Zor-El, Linda Lang, Supergirl, the girl you've known to love and spend the rest of your days with, devoted to each other and loyal to one another.

"I love you" Y/N said with glee, smiling into her blue rays.

"I love you too" she giggled, deeply kissing him on the lips before resting her head on him as the both shut their eyes, knowing what's to come next.

And they couldn't be more happier to spend their future... Together.

As The Yin to Her Yang, and her as His Ray of Sunshine...

* *

Wow.... That was a very long one don't ya think?

Yeah this took me ages to write out, put a lot of work into it and such, along with reading through the all the New Earth comics again, kinda wish DC would go back to the New Earth universe, though Flashpoint happened, maybe there is an alternative timeline where Flashpoint never happened... Maybe...

But yes, I hope you enjoyed this because I had a blast writing this all out.

This Imagine was released on Wattpad first (If you read my last post about it, more details are shared there) and I brought it here, with some minor differences with my Author's Notes/A/N)

Take Care and 'Til All Are One

-J

[ranahan]

Mandalorian clans & government

Headcanons ahead! You have been warned. Approximately 1% of what I’m about to write is canon. But I’ve been thinking a lot about how a clan based space-age society would function (how do you pay taxes? what’s the government like?), and I thought others might get a kick out of my musings too so I finally put them down and here we are.

I want to star by saying that what I describe here is far from a utopia. I wanted to explore a Mandalorian society that would be functional (no, their government is not only based on a magic sword). But I also wanted to explore where all these conflicts within the Mandalorian society come from. In my experience, some conflicts do stem from ideological differences, but most of them actually go a bit deeper and are questions about who has the money and power? Who wins and loses economically? Whose accustomed rights are being infringed on? So I wanted to explore what kind of legitimate grievances the different factions of Mandalorians might have against each other. Because that’s where stories would get interesting, organic conflicts from. I’m not interested in reading or writing perfect, can-do-no-wrong characters or sides. Give me people who have legitimate wrongs they want to fix, and other, sympathetic wrongs they want to commit. Give me people who want to do the right thing, only their right is in conflict with another people’s right. When it comes to stories, interesting is so much better than morally pure.

The origins of the Mandalorian clans

I imagine that the Taung, the original Mandalorian race, either was a clan-based society or developed into one during their wandering days after leaving Coruscant and before settling Manda’yaim. For a nomadic people, their clan would be their safety net and their basic social unit.

I also like to think that the archaic Mando’a word for a clan derives from a word for a ship: the Taung were not just nomads, they were space faring nomads. In those early times of space travel, it would have actually been the ship that was the basic social unit and the ship crew would have been the origin of the clan. And that’s why the words belly and home are related: they both derive from archaic words for a ship or a ship part. Aliit is a Modern Mando’a word that derives from a ’command group’, and was coined by Neo-Crusader recruits.

When the Taung settled on Manda’yaim, they had to adapt to a more sedentary lifestyle with permanent bases and sharing space with other ships’ crews. But when a nomadic culture adopts a sedentary lifestyle, they don’t just abandon their culture. And that’s the origin of clans—the Taung built up their organisation and government on top of the existing command structures. Ship captains became clan chieftains, ship crews became clan members. Very traditional old clans might have kept still some other positions.

And they also kept certain social attitudes: a crew is not based just on family ties (although in the early days of space travel, the crew would certainly have had their families on board). Additionally, when the Taung settled a new planet, they began as resource-rich and people-poor. So the basic social dynamic developed into one where clans compete for skilled workers and strong warriors, who in turn are free to choose which clan they want to belong to. If a particular clan has a tyrannical leader, they would start haemorrhaging workers to other clans with better leadership and/or better perks. That leads to the clan losing income and resources. Eventually the remaining members would overthrow their old leader and choose a better one. That dynamic only got reinforced when Mandalorians started conquering the nearby regions of space: war requires a lot of bodies.

In the modern days, an adult person may choose which clan they wish to belong to. Usually that’s the clan of one of their parents; sometimes though, they come to a better agreement with another clan. When you marry, you and your spouse typically decide which of your clans you want to belong to. Sometimes spouses decide to stay belonging to their clans of origin, but that’s fairly rare. Children belong to their parents clan until adulthood, at which time they may decide which of their parents clans they want to belong to. Poaching young adults for another clan is highly frowned upon, although it might be technically legal in some circumstances (it used to be completely legal, but then some assholes abused the system and now there are some additional laws and agreements in place).

Administration, bureaucracy and taxes

Administration and bureaucracy got built over top of the existing Taung command structures too. The Mand’alor is effectively the commander of the entire fleet of ships (=clans), but expects the ships (=clans) to largely function independently. The clans would pay a tithe to the Mand’alor which would finance larger public works like space ports, but a lot of local infrastructure and works would either be completely financed by local clans or at least supplemented by them. Many large endeavours would also require the Mand’alor to get additional financial backing from the clans, because the Mand’alor doesn’t directly tax their subjects.

That’s right: the basic taxation unit is the clan. In the modern days, most people choose to file their taxes under their clan (and let the numbers guy in their clan worry about it), and work out their fair contribution and tax rate with their own clan leaders. This is a fairly flexible system: when you are down on your luck, you can rely on your clan for welfare; when you prosper, so does your clan. The clan then uses a certain amount of funds to e.g. provide medical care and schooling for its members, and to pay their tithe to the Mand’alor. Originally, the tithe was based on the number of able-bodied and armoured warriors the clan could muster; today, it’s in practice based on the number of adult members in a clan.

Taxes might sound boring, but I cannot stress this enough: without taxation base and tax records, the Mand’alor cannot govern. (Did you know that the first thing most historical peasant rebellions on Earth did, was to burn the tax records?) The Mand’alor rules only with the support of the clans. The Mandalorian government is not a democracy, but it’s not a dictatorship either. In effect, an aspiring Mand’alor needs to get the backing of the clans: most critically, the big houses, but they would also receive a steady trickle of smaller independent clans and even individual people swearing to them.

Guilds and Houses

Guilds would have started out as co-operative organisations for people who either come from very small clans or don’t want to financially associate with their clan. A guild would generally provide a similar package of benefits for its members as a clan: medical care, life insurance, filing income taxes, etc. The House system is another adaptation to this dynamic. Smaller clans can band together or under the protection of a larger clan. Effectively most Mandalorians either belong to a fairly big clan, a House, or a guild. In the modern days, there is an option to file your taxes independently, but few people choose to do it—its easier and more flexible to work things out within your own House. It’s more popular in Sundari and other areas with more centralised governance (that typically hails from the caretaker government post-Dral’Han) and more public services. Belonging to any of these organisations is in no way mandatory—pretty much the only one you need to declare for any official purpose is your clan—but belonging to none is a pretty precarious way of life.

Oh and the schools and hospitals and other such institutions? Most are private, fairly affordable due to being subsidised by donations from local rich clans and big companies (Mandos have a strong tradition of contributing to the community) and operate on a sliding scale of payment. Some (e.g. small local schools) are wholesale owned by local Houses. If you belong to a clan, its most likely your tuition was (at least partly) paid by the clan instead of your parents. Ditto for your medical bills. There’s also a healthy competition in the market: if you don’t like or cannot afford a school or a hospital, you go somewhere else. Sundari and the other domed cities have more publicly funded services, since a tightly packed city inside a biodome requires centralised administration to function.

tl;dr: The clan, the House, or the guild is the basic unit that provides welfare services for an individual. Usually, the school/hospital/etc. is a private enterprise or a foundation, with ties or contracts with local clans or Houses.

Mining and land rights

The land and its mining rights belong to a clan. The ancestral clan lands go all the way back to the original settlement of the Mandalorian worlds. Since the discovery of beskar, land- and mining rights have been hotly contested and have been the source of many civil wars and inter-clan conflicts.

That means that technically beskar belongs to a clan. Indeed, it is the clan’s duty to arm its warriors. In practice, beskar’gam is partly earned by the individual and partly given by the clan. Beskar is sufficiently rare that only the richest and oldest clans can afford to clad their warriors entirely in pure beskar. Most make do with beskar alloys of various quality (the beskar content of many plates has gone down over the years and their many reforgings). Many wear partly or all durasteel or even composite. However, because of the cultural significance, usually at least the kar’ta beskar is actual beskar (or beskar alloy), even if the rest of the plates are not.

In the olden times, clan tithes could actually be paid in beskar, and often were by clans with good beskar mines. And thus the Mand’alor could then gift (or sell) the beskar to other deserving clans or warriors.

Since the land belongs to the clans, most farmers are either clan members or tenant farmers, although the tenancies are generally given to families (=family lines), not individuals, and the tenant farmers receive many of the benefits of the members of the house if they’re not members themselves (which they often are). The clan that owns the land would usually pay for infrastructure projects and the like, often with manpower provided by the communities living on their lands.

Fishing and hunting rights and other natural resources similarly generally belong to the clan who owns the land.

As an aside, this system unintendedly contributed to the Ba’slan shev'la after Dral’Han. Many clans had their lands and livelihoods obliterated, and faced a choice to seek refuge in one of the less-affected areas of Mandalorian space (which were crawling with other refugees who had recently lost everything in their name), or leave and try their luck elsewhere in the Galaxy. Many chose to leave not because of some grand strategy or masterplan, but to find work, make a living, and raise their children somewhere that was not a radioactive desert.

Disasters like the Dral’Han have left many Houses land-rich and people-poor: it’s not unusual for them to grant lands for smaller clans and families swearing to them. It’s in everybody’s best interests that the land and its resources gets managed—preferably of course by a loyal vassal clan, who pays tithes to you.

Government and law

I like to think the Mandalorians have a split system of law, kind of like common law vs. statute law. There would be the military law and the military tribunal—or in Mandalorian terms, the Mand’alor’s law, with the Mand’alor acting as the supreme commander of the armed forces. And the other branch would be the other powerhouse in Mandalorian society: clans.

I imagine there’s a Mandalorian equivalent of the House of Lords, or what might be called a Moot: a body that consists of all the Mandalorian clan chieftains. When they vote about anything, the votes are probably weighted based on the number of warriors (historically) or adults (in modern times) in their clan. In practice, a lot of the smaller clans belong to a House which would also act as a voting block—almost like a political party. This is another dynamic that makes Houses compete for clans and warriors declaring for them.

The original function of this body would have been to decide matters that are beyond any one clan—and furthermore, to arbitrate matters between clans or intra-clan grievances that cannot be solved within the clan. And this could lead to them developing into a body that handles a lot of the high-level civilian matters—or appoints civilian administrators and judges to handle them. There’s probably some wiggle room and a lot of power plays about which matters belong to the Moot and which to the Mand’alor and which perhaps are decided by the Moot, but require the Mand’alor’s agreement. On Earth, that has historically been the case between monarchs and their Houses of Lords too.

The clan law is effectively a huge pile of historical precedents upon historical precedents. So it’s a customary law in character. It’s the Mand’alor’s law that’s the more flexible one: they can just give executive commands, effective immediately. But then the next Mand’alor might countermand all of their orders. In practice though, the military law is again a pile of previous Mand’alore’s executive orders building on top of each other—that’s a part of why Jaster’s Codex was 700 pages or whatever. In this way, the Mand’alor’s position could be compared to the president or the prime minister of some democracies: they’re the highest executive power, but they don’t make the civilian laws and don’t control the courts. I do think the Mand’alor has more power than Western presidents/prime ministers though, and that they e.g. name their own cabinet. Although politically savvy Mand’alores would in practice fill their cabinet with members of powerful clans to keep them happy.

Oh, and the magic sword as the basis of government? It’s a cool prop, but it’s hardly the whole story. The right by combat sounds to me like a very old tradition preceding the Darksabre. The Darksabre just got caught up in the old tradition, and became a visible symbol of having won a duel against the old Mand’alor. However—and it’s a pretty big however—like I said previously, no one rules Mandalore without the support of the clans. There are probably many stories of some hotshot young warrior thinking to make themselves into the next Mand’alor. And they might actually manage it—for about five minutes, until the old Mand’alor’s warriors line up to challenge them. You might win one duel, but no-one will win a hundred duels in a row. Even if they would manage to keep the Darksabre, if the clans didn’t support them, they would shortly go bankrupt, and find their armies going home when they stop being paid.

So there are probably some five-minute-wonders in the history, who are quickly succeeded by the previous Mand’alor’s second or third in command. I’d also like to point out that there’s an incentive to leave the previous Mand’alor alive: they are still (often) the clan head or at least the commander of a significant number of troops present in the capital, and if they’re alive, they can order those troops to stand down. If they’re dead, those troops may choose to fight instead and hope to make the challenger’s reign very short indeed.

The New Mandalorian government

Now on this stage comes the Republic, who in 738 BBY bombs key Mandalorian worlds and leaves large swaths of them inhabitable. They also installsa caretaker government to make sure that the Mandalorian threat would not rise again. And I imagine that from the get go, this Republic oversight would have been universally loathed. But it also split Mandalorians between those who on principle refused to recognise the Republic’s puppet government, and those who saw that Mandalore was in no position to evict them militarily, and needed to do everything to ensure the Republic navy didn’t have a reason to come back and finish the job. So they chose to work within the system to fight tooth and nail for an independent, Mandalorian government.

And, well, that itself is a huge source of friction. Mandalore essentially has two governments, which don’t recognise each other: the post-excision government that grew from the Republic’s caretaker government and the Mand’alor. The clan Moot would probably be something of a grey area: perhaps it was recognised but reorganised by the post-Dral’Han government; or perhaps it was not, but traditions are not so easily killed and it still holds a lot of power in practice. Individual Houses operate in between all of these separate systems of power, striking a deal here and giving a nod there.

But I also think that a lot of the Core-inspired laws installed by this post-Excision government, and the laws that are needed to make the tightly packed domed cities run, come into conflict with the traditional Mandalorian laws. So now you have what is effectively a tripartite system of law. And there’s certain friction between all of these parts, and lots of arguments about which law applies in which case and who has jurisdiction.

This is also how the Mand’alor can be a rather hands-off position (depending on the Mand’alor) after the Dral’Han—there are two other forms of government to keep things running.

Citizenship

Let’s start with a couple of basic assumptions. First, the basic unit of Mandalorian society is the clan. Aliit is also a part of the Resol’nare. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that one cannot be a Mandalorian without a clan. I mean, in a religious sense, you have to be adopted into a Mandalorian clan to become a Mandalorian and share in the Manda. That’s why the adoption vow is literally ”name and soul”. Well, that’s the orthodox, religious view anyway. I imagine modern attitudes are laxer, but older views are probably reflected in many laws still.

Secondly, a lot of the Mandalorian space was originally conquered by the Taung. The conquered peoples could become Mandalorians, but I always got the vibe that it was an individual choice (both of the adoptee to want to become a Mandalorian and of the clan to accept them)—conversely, there must have been many people who decided not to convert. I doubt they were all put to sword either, especially after Mand’alor the Ultimate’s reforms.

So this creates a situation where there are both people who are Mandalorians by creed and by clan, and people who live on Mandalorian worlds and are not one or the other or neither.

And I like to think that Mandalore, by the accident of history, effectively has two kinds of citizenships: ”full” citizenship for members of Mandalorian clans, and ”civil” citizenships for residents of Mandalorian worlds who are not considered Mandalorians. And that these two kinds of citizenships come with different rights and responsibilities. For one, only the Mandalorians have representation in their House of Lords. Conversely, only Mandalorians are expected to answer the Mand’alor’s call and to serve in the military. Yes, this came about because I wanted to explore that whole are Jaster and Jango Mandalorians or not, and who even is a Mandalorian debates. Where do they come from? Could there be some reasonable explanation that gets garbled in the translation to Basic? In my version, there’s both a religious/creed aspect to being a Mandalorian, and a legal citizenship aspect, that overlap. So perhaps Jango was born on a Mandalorian world, but not as a Mandalorian. Just a thought.

Now the people who aren’t born Mandalorians but wish to become one by creed, they have an easy precedent available to them. They either get themselves accepted into a clan (the most common way); or I like to think there’s some kind of a provision for people who for one reason or another don’t want to be adopted. Perhaps they need to have a sponsor who’s a citizen of good standing (this would be the adopter for those who are adopted into clans, or perhaps the spouse or the spouse’s clan head for those who marry in), and let’s say two witnesses who testify they have completed their verd’goten or an equivalent trial. A clan can’t really be just one person, so I imagine that if a clan shrinks to just one member, they keep their lands etc., but lose some other e.g. political privileges until they became a clan (of more than one) again, and conversely, newly minted mandos who don’t have clans don’t get all the benefits and representation either.

Then we have people who are neither. Now these people could have legitimate grievances against how the political system operates, because it disadvantages them. And I think that’s an interesting point and an interesting conflict. Which is what stories are all about.

And then we have New Mandalorians, at least some of who are Mandalorians by clan—but they refuse some duties that come with that, and which probably actually are codified into traditional Mandalorian law. So that’s a legitimate grievance on the part of the old guard against the New Mandalorians: they want all the benefits, but dodge the draft and other legal duties. But it’s also a legitimate grievance of the New Mandalorians (mandatory military service is a violation of individual rights as their government defines them & answering to a Mand’alor who is not recognised by their laws). And what else would they define citizenship by, if not birth and residence on the Mandalorian worlds?

And I imagine that New Mandalorian government either defines or wants to define citizenship in a new way that’s not based on creed and being a member of a clan. And this is also a source of grievances and conflict. The traditionalists feel that being a Mandalorian is a creed, a choice; and that choosing to walk the way of the Mandalore has been a foundational right since the time of the Mandalorian Wars. After all, all of the modern day Mandalorians are descended of people who made that choice.