#another au i want to write!!!

[tinukis]

day 5 - little brother

so incredibly self indulgent but yeah anyway... little brother w his three older brothers

(please more asl + uta/asul bros please)

[karalovesallthegirls]

Kara has always dreaded the day she’d meet her soulmate. 

There’s relief in knowing she has one, of course. The person meant for her didn’t die with Krypton. That’s something! Even still, it’s hard to feel excited for the moment they meet, because that’s the moment Kara will hurt them. She’s had their exclamation of pain inked into her skin for as long as she’s been on Earth. In some ways it’s better. Most people have phrases like “good morning” or “hold the door please” as their soulmate’s first words. They have to endure hundreds of almosts, breath held just in case that stranger really is the one. Kara won’t have to do that. Her words are far too distinct.

It's agony, thinking about how their meeting will go. She spends years imagining every possible scenario, each one more painful than the last, yet the day it happens she barely even registers it. The words wash right over her, drowned out by the loud crack as her hand makes sudden contact with a stranger's face. The telltale crunch of contact shocks her. She hadn't registered anyone was there during her dramatic retelling, otherwise she would have kept her gestures small. She wouldn't have flung her hand out with such force.

The woman she's hit is hunched over, clutching at her face. She gasped loud and sharp when it hit, and now she's just wheezily breathing in shock. Kara can see blood starting to drip down her wrist.

“Did you," the woman gasps, and her voice sounds wet. "Did you just break my nose?” Kara wants to die.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

People are looking at them and the woman keeps cursing under her breath and Kara really, really doesn’t know what to do. Her hands hover uselessly over the hunched figure, desperate to soothe but scared to touch in a moment like this. “I didn’t mean to – I was telling a story and I got too excited with my hands I guess, I didn’t see you there. Are you- can I-”

She looks to Alex for guidance, but she’s just staring at the interaction with a wide-eyed wonder. Typically her sister knows what to do in a scary situation, but now she’s looking just as clueless. They’re both barely awake at this point – it’s six in the morning and they’ve been at this airport terminal since midnight, miserably watching their red eye flight push into a mid-day departure. They’re both half-delirious, which is fun when you’re goofing off but less so when you’ve just broken a stranger’s nose. 

And then it hits her. The words she’s carried on her arm for so many years are tingling, she realizes, and they’ve been tingling from the second her skin met the girl’s. 

Did you did you just break my nose?

“Oh wow,” Kara says, dumbfounded. “It’s you.” The woman falls silent. She must be realizing too Kara thinks as she fumbles with her sleeve, pushing it up enough to show her inked arm. The woman's eyes drop to the tattoo that's brought such shame to Kara for so long. She feels her eyes like a touch. “I – I’m so happy to meet you! I’m so sorry it happened like this.” She laughs and it sounds strained. Her hands are shaking. The woman doesn't look up from her arm.

Even hunched over in pain, it's clear the woman is beautiful. Important, even, considering how she's dressed. She's dressed like she's en route to lead a business conference, her tight black skirt and matching blazer scream business professional. Though the effects are tampered a bit by the splattering of blood that’s dripped down her white blouse. Kara wonders how old she is to be dressed like that. She must be older to look like that. At nearly nineteen, Kara has never had anything more than a graduation to dress nicely for, and even then she wore her stained dress pants. This woman - her soulmate - must be much older than her, which feels strange to think. She looks Kara's age, maybe even younger. If not for how clearly tailored to her body her clothes are, she'd almost look like she was playing dress up.

Kara feels self-conscious then, sharply aware of how she must look to her soulmate. As smart as it felt to come to the airport in pajamas for her all-night flight, standing in rubber duck pajama pants while trying to have a conversation with her goddess of a soulmate did little for Kara's confidence.

When Kara’s eyes finally track back up to her face, she finds sharp green ones staring back. They're the prettiest eyes she's ever seen, and they don't seem interested in looking away. That's fine with her - she's more than content to stare right back.

It's only the soft plop of blood hitting tile that draws her attention back to her crime, and she can see the way the woman's hands have become covered in blood. "Oh gosh, here - let me…”  Kara fumbles in her backpack for a moment with no clear plan. All she knows is she has to do something to fix this. She fumbles about before pulling out a clean t-shirt. “Here. For the-” She holds it out to the girl and gestures at her own face. Slowly, like she’s scared Kara might grab her or something, the woman takes the offered shirt. She wipes the blood from her face and hands, dabbing beneath her nose. The bleeding seems to have stopped, at least, and the shirt helps contain what's escaped. Watching a stranger wipe blood on her high school band t-shirt shouldn’t thrill Kara as much as it does, and yet.

Kara laughs again, the sound nervous and high-pitched, before taking a step towards her. Her soulmate’s eyes go wide, tracking her movements, and Kara's heart clenches when she steps away. The rapid race of her soulmate's heart beats into Kara's ear - she can literally hear her fear. She holds her hands up in surrender, stepping back to where she’d been before. The last thing she wants is for her to be afraid. “Does it hurt?” she asks, and her soulmate shakes her head no. “That’s good. That’s good. I- uh." She has nothing more to say, and her soulmate's certainly not contributing. Kara’s palms are sweating. She hasn’t sweat since she was thirteen, but one look from this person has her rubbing her hands on her pajama pants like a middle schooler at a dance.

The woman finishes wiping up and lets her arms fall, blessing Kara with her first real look at her face. Bloodied and skittish, she’s beautiful in a way Kara can hardly comprehend, in a way she could never imagine. Kara's pretty sure she's blushing now for some reason, and she has to flex her toes to be sure she’s still touching the ground. “My name’s Kara,” she says, and then gestures over her shoulder. “That’s my sister Alex. We’re flying home for winter break. Midvale - Midvale is home for us. Where- where are you flying to?”

The woman stares and stares, and Kara's starting to panic thinking she'd given her soulmate a head injury that's muted her somehow, when at last the woman speaks just barely above a whisper.

“Home,” she says. It feels like her heart might burst just from hearing that one stilted word. Kara wants to hear a thousand more, wants to hear nothing else for the rest of her life.

“That’s awesome. W-where’s home for you?” The woman's lip trembles as she opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again.

 “I’m sorry,” she says, and then throws the t-shirt at Kara’s face. 

Kara fumbles catching it, distracted by the shock and gross factor of having a blood-soaked shirt hurled at her face, and it takes her far too many precious seconds to realize her soulmate is gone. Bewildered, Kara looks around before just catching sight of her vanishing around the corner, high heels and racing heart clattering away. She looks at Alex. Alex waves at her, frantic. “Go!” Alex yells, and Kara takes off.

Pretending to be a human has never been harder than it is while chasing after her soulmate. Normal human pace - especially what's acceptable at an airport - is not fast enough for this, not when the woman has already gotten so far ahead. Kara must look ridiculous, bursting into sprints only to trip suddenly into a walk over and over again, her ears locked on to the thudding heartbeat and faint whispers of her soulmate mumbling, “crap crap crap crap,” ahead.

Kara’s thankful they’re in an airport, at least. Her soulmate can’t just run outside, and Kara is fine embracing the romcom trope of following her love onto the plane. Her soulmate stops moving ahead and Kara speeds up, nearly wiping out twice tripping over luggage and small children. Her heart is in her throat as she clears the corner her soulmate is behind and pushes her way into the door she's passed through. All the wind knocks out of her lungs then when she sees her again. The woman looks up at her in shock, as if she didn't think Kara would chase her. As if Kara would just let her go. With a visible gulp, her soulmate flees around a corner and disappears out of sight. Kara manages a single step forward before a body blocks her way, and she looks up to see a massive security guard staring down at her.

“Membership card, please.”

Kara tries to peer around him. He steps in her way, cutting her vision off. Her soulmate led her into some private place you can't just walk into, she realizes, glancing around at the sleek appearance and exclusive atmosphere. “I- uh, left my card in my other bag,” she says, gesturing back over her shoulder. She can hear her soulmate’s breathing and it's all she can focus on. She’s right there. Just out of sight. Kara is so close. “I’m afraid you need your card to enter the fly lounge,” he says sternly. He starts pushing gently at her, trying to nudge her back out of the sliding glass door she’s come in. Kara almost forgets to let him move her. “I- I’m sorry, someone I need to talk to just went in there and I-” She stops in the doorway, hand firm on the wall. She can hear the way the guard huffs against her solid pressure. She’s not acting very human right now and she knows it.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, ma’am," he says, pushing more forcefully against her. Forceful enough that she knows she has to move even as all her instincts war against it. “Can- can I buy a membership? Like a day pass or something?”

The guard looks over at the front desk, making eye contact with a woman who looks like she would rather watch Kara be flayed alive than allowed another step inside.

“A day membership is $189 plus tax,” she whines out in a nasally voice, tone making clear she already knows Kara won’t be affording that. Which is accurate. Kara barely has enough to buy a meal. 

Looks like her soulmate is rich, then.

The man nudges her back again and a flash of panic echoes through her chest. For a moment, she envisions herself throwing him out the open door, tossing aside anything or anyone that tries to keep her from her future. But she’s already scared her soulmate enough for one day, so she smiles with forced bashfulness and allows herself to be walked back out of the lounge.

The frosted glass door marked High Flyers Club Lounge shuts her out mockingly. But it’s fine! Eventually her soulmate’s flight time will be here and she’ll have no choice but to come out and face her. Kara just has to be patient. (Kara hates being patient.)

She takes a seat against the wall across from the lounge entrance. Her glasses rest low on her nose as she stares her soulmate, soaking in every inch of her as she paces in the luxurious lounge. Her heart is racing, she seems on the edge of a panic attack, and Kara wants desperately to be in there with her talking her down. But she can’t, so she’s left to watch – at least until the girl steps into the private restroom. She stops watching after that. Instead, she settles down to listen to the comforting beat of her soulmate’s heart, closer now than it’s ever been.

Her mind wanders as she waits, mentally reviewing every moment of their interaction. Considering where she failed, where she succeeded. Making lists about what to say to her next. She never got her name, for one thing, and she still doesn’t know where her home is. There’s so much for her to learn.

Her mental meandering is so consuming that it takes her a bit to realize the heartbeat has moved farther away. At first she thinks her soulmate is just moving around the club, but no- she’s moving away from the airport.  A quick glance through walls shows her that her soulmate isn’t in the club anymore. The heartbeat is elevating, she realizes, and Kara runs to the glass wall just in time to see the plane - small, private, with an apparent access point from within the lounge – take off. 

Horror and confusion overwhelm her, bringing tears to her eyes. This doesn't make sense. Why would she just leave without saying a word? Why would her soulmate do that? It's almost unbearable, the pain of it. She doesn’t know how long she stands there, face pressed to the glass, listening as the heartbeat grows quieter and quieter before vanishing all together.

Kara learns a lot about grief after that. 

She knew a lot already – far more than any one person should ever know – but that grief carried a different weight. The loss of her people wasn't a choice by them. They didn't want to die. The loss of her soulmate is its own beast, sharp and cruel in her heart, because this time the person she mourns chose to abandon her. Her soulmate chose to leave. She saw Kara that morning and decided that one look was enough, that Kara wasn't worth any more of her time. She left her there with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a thousand questions. Kara never even learned her name.

She goes through the stages – she feels her anger burning out in her eyes, feels the sorrow take hold. She denies it, she bargains with everyone, anyone. She calls the Flyer’s Club, tries calling the FAA. She tracks flight logs and makes cold calls and still finds nothing at all. She writes about it on soulmate websites and Medium articles, casting a wide net so that someday when – if, her mind reminds her. if if if - her soulmate ever looks she’ll be able to find her.  

Time dulls the sharpness, though, and the years shift that rejected feeling into a more muted anger. Kara doesn't care about the love lost. She doesn't care if the person is her other half. All she cares about is the anger. Finding her feels more like a hunt than a quest for love – she’s got a lot to say to the other woman when they finally meet again. She just wants one more meeting, that’s all. Just enough time to tell her exactly where she can go. Kara doesn’t need a soulmate, after all. Her life is full of love and joy and adventure, and she doesn’t need another person to complete her. She graduates college with a degree in English, minor in Journalism – her attempts to track down her soulmate really ignite the journalistic bug in her, and with Clark’s constant encouragement it feels inevitable. She moves to a big city despite her small-town fears and she gets a job almost no one survives. Kara is thriving.

It almost shocks her, then, the way her heart trips over itself when she sees her again.

They’re watching the trial, her and Alex, and Alex is halfway through a lecture on how she’d always known Lex Luthor was evil by the way he wore his pants – (“Good guys don’t wear their pants that high, Kara, it’s common sense.”) – when Kara's nerves jolt like a lightning bolt has rushed through her. Her gasp is so sharp Alex screams almost in sympathy. 

“What? What is it?” Alex yells at her, looking around for some danger lurking nearby. Kara tumbles to the floor practically crawling to the television screen. Someone new has taken the stand, someone she'd recognize anywhere.

“Alex,” she says, jamming her finger against the somewhat grainy image projected on her television. “It's her.” “What!” “My soulmate!" Kara knows it like she knows herself, even after all this time. She looks different. Six years of struggle sit clear in her hard gaze, her mouth twisted into solemn resignation. She looks almost casual on the stand, sitting comfortably despite the eyes of the world on her. Like it's just a regular conversation. Like she’s not about to help send her brother to prison for life. “Lena Luthor, sister of the defendant” reads the helpful banner beneath her grim face. Even after everything, Kara is struck by her. She's breathtaking. Kara kind of hates her for it. “Hold on, that’s- you barely even saw her when you met! You don’t know for sure.” Alex sounds desperate, which is fair. The younger sister of the man who tried to kill Superman is certainly not an ideal soulmate for someone like Kara, but it doesn't matter. It's her. “I’m sure,” she says, and feels the truth of it deep in her bones.

A giggle hits her then that's so inappropriate for the moment it makes her feel crazy, but she can't help it. As Lena Luthor begins to explain the piles of evidence she’s gathered against her brother, Kara giggles away. She feels almost drunk on it, smug and satisfied. “Found you,” she says, almost like a taunt. She drags her finger over the screen, feeling the static of her ancient television biting back at her as she caresses Lena Luthor's face. The anger that’s long settled inside of her seems to reignite with every charged word Lena speaks against her brother, with every glance she makes at the camera. She can feel Alex’s nervous energy behind her but she doesn’t care. The politics of this, the implications - none of it matters to Kara. What matters is she has a name, and she has a general location. She's so close she can practically taste it. “See you soon, soulmate,” Kara whispers, and for a second it feels almost like Lena is staring right back.

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing

originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:

Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.

What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...

Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?

“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.

“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.

“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.

He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.

He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”

She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”

Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.

“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”

Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.

//

Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?

He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.

“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”

Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.

“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.

Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”

Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”

Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"

"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.

"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”

He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.

“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.

Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.

Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.

Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.

//

When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.

Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”

Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.

“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.

“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.

Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”

"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”

Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.

Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.

He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”

Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”

Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”

Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.

“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”

His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.

“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”

“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.

“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.

Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.

Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.

“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”

“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.

In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.

//

Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.

He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.

Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.

“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”

Another no.

“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”

Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”

“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”

Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.

Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.

Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.

Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...

Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.

“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.

“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.

Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”

Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"

Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”

She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.

“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.

“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”

“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.

Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."

He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.

“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.

“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.

“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”

“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”

“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.

“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."

“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.

Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”

“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.

“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.

"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”

He walked out.

A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.

//

When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.

Shit.

"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."

Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."

"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."

"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."

Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."

"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."

Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.

"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.

Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.

"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"

He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.

Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"

"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.

"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."

"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.

"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."

Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.

"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.

"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.

"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."

The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."

"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."

"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.

Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."

Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."

"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.

Fuck.

Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.

"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."

"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"

"Years?" he asked, amused.

"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.

"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"

"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.

Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 

"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"

"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"

"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"

"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"

"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.

Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.

"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.

Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.

"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.

“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.

“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”

“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.

“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.

[koipalm]

in the myth of eros and psyche, her last task is go to the underworld and retrieve some of persephone's beauty. so here's her in hades, where zagreus hasn't found his mother yet. the 'beauty of persephone' she brings back are gifts from zagreus, as he's the last of his mother's beauty in the underworld

[riovidalharkness]

AgathaRio AU | Agatha is an up and coming photographer who prefers to be behind the camera. She is asked to photograph a new client. When she sees who her client will be, she's hesitant to say yes. According to others who work in the same field as her, Rio Vidal is a well-known model with a bad reputation and a mean streak. She's said to be impossible to work with. Still trying to build her portfolio, she can't say no. She's nervous to photograph her. As they work together, Agatha finds that talk isn't everything.

[ Idea inspired by this post by @multifandominfj ]

[crabsnpersimmons]

the workweek is upon us

it's dangerous to go alone

here take this

may he offer you some whimsy in these trying times

[vulpixisananimal]

(. . . Ouch.)

(You're back in the field. That, that one hurt. It really, really hurt. You're not entierly sure what you did different that time, was it that you asked him why he looked like that? Either way, the result was one you wouldn't forget.)

(You were fighting the king. You must have gotten careless, or maybe distracted, but you took a blow meant or Mirabelle, it flung you into the wall and you felt something snap. You weren't able to move, only watch your party try and win without you. You didn't know what was worse, the fact Bonnie tried dragging you away when you lost, or that the King killed you last, since now, you were the least threatening of them all.)

(Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile. . .)

(. . . . It doesnt matter. Lesson learned. Get up Siffrin, you have a country to save.)

(. . . . . . .)

(. . . . . . . . . . . . . .)

(You. . . . . . . You can't move.)

(You can't move. You can't move!?! Why can't you move!!! You tried your arms, your hands, fingers, toes, legs, head- okay!! You could move your head! So, so you're not frozen in time, aha, hahaha!! AHHAHAHHAHAHA WHY CANT YOU MOVE!!!!!)

(This isn't right, this isn't right this shouldn't happen this, this is impossible right?!? You always went back to normal after a Loop!!! Did, did you do something wrong? No, did you die wrong? How can you die wrong!!! That makes no sense!! Was this a joke?!? Okay, okay call Loop they'll know what t- NO YOU COULDN'T, EVEN DO THAT!!! HA, HAHAHAHAHA)

(You had to move!! You had to!! Because, because if you cant then you, you, you-)

(Then you couldn't go to the clock tower you couldn't go to the house you couldn't stop the boulder in the first hall you couldn't find the key or the crests or fight and you couldn't look through everything for how to get out of the loops you couldn't use the keyknife you couldnt do anything you'd be the useless dead weight that you always were and you'd be stuck here!!! YOU HAD TO MOVE. JUST, MOVE!!! PLEASE!!!)

(JUST MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE-)

"S-Siffrin!!!!"

(You snap back to reality, Mirabelle, she, she was right there. In front of you, she looked panicked. How long had she been there? How long had you been lying here. You open your mouth, no sound comes out. What do you say, what CAN you say?!?! How can you say ANYTHING?!??!?)

(You look Mirabelle in the eyes. She's, shes starting to cry. You, you have to, say, something, anything!!)

". . . M-mira. . ."

"Siffrin!!!" (She looks releaved a little that you talked, putting an arm up to your head before quickly putting it back.) "A-are you alright?!? You weren't responding at all and, a-and I, I-"

"Mira. . ." (You can feel yourself starting to tear up.)

(You have to tell her. You don't want to. You would rather die. But if you don't tell her, then you'll be stuck lying here as she waits for you at the clock tower!! And, and you. . .)

"I. . . I can't move."

". . . WHAT?!?!" (It took Mirabelle a second to process what you said. She looked shocked, terrified.) "W-what happened?? Was it a nightmare?!? Or, or did, u-uhm let me try something!!"

(You can see a slight glow from Miras hand. Healing craft!! Right!! Haha, that should fix it easy!! Of course!!! She places her hand gently on your chest.)

(. . . You don't feel it. You don't feel the warmth of Mirabelles healing, or her hand, or, or anything. No, you couldn't feel the grass underneath your hands, or, the wind or, o-or. You're starting to hyperventilate, please, please work please please please.)

"Did that. . ." (Mirabelle takes her hand back, looking at you.)

(You try and move a finger. . .)

(. . .)

(You. Still. Can't. MOVE!)

(You can feel yourself starting to cry, you can't stop it. No, no no no no no, after all this, all this work. You're stuck!!! You're stuck and you can't move!!!)

"O-oh Change. . . Siffrin. . ." (You could see Mirabelle starting to cry, surely she was thinking about tomorrow, about everything, the King, the fight, and now just how useless you were, stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!!!)

"I-it's fine. . ." (You mumble.)

"It's not fine!!!" (She yells.) "Y-you're my friend!!! And!!! A-and you can't move and I couldn't heal it!!! It's not fine at all!!!"

"M-mira. . ." (It was fine. It was fine. It was fine.)

"I'm going to get Madame Odile, she'll know what to do! A-and, and everyone too!! Just, just- I'll be right back!!"

(You watch her go as much as you could. You couldn't stop her even if you tried. Stars. . . You try to stop crying. It doesn't work. You close your eyes.)

>>>

"How about here?" (Odile asked, pressing against your back.)

(Mirabelle had came back a few minutes later, everyone in tow. They were all so worried about you, wanting to make sure you were okay. Odile had the though to check your reflexes, then after that came up with nothing, to check your spine. Isabeau was holding you up as Odile pressed along your back. Or, at least, you think she was.)

"N-nothing still. . ." (You mumble back.)

(This was maybe the worst part.)

(After all those little moments where you snuck a poke or touch in the plant room, after all the time you wanted someone to just, hold you. It finally happened.)

(And you couldn't feel it.)

(It had taken all of your might not to scream.)

"Gems. . . What about here?" (You shake your head.) "Hmm. . ."

". . . Frin gonna be okay?" (You hear Bonnie ask.)

"I, hmm, I'm not sure." (Odile sighed.) "There's no broken spine segments, and you're sure you didn't have any strange sensations leading up to this?"

"N-no. . ." (It's only half a lie.) "Just, woke up like this. . ."

"Aw Sif. . ." (You can hear the anguish in Isabeaus voice. You feel a gentle hand on the back of your head, you barely even wince.)

"We, w-we can figure this out! It'll, uhm, it'll just take some work!! It'll be okay!!!" (Mirabelle sounds like she's about to burst into tears again.)

(No, It won't be okay if you're stuck like this. You lead them through the house each time, and if you can't do that, they die. You all die. Stars, everythings changing, everythings, wrong!!)

"I-I'm sorry. . ."

"No!!!" (They all yell at you.)

"You don't need to apolagise!! This isn't your fault!!" (Mirabelle continues.)

"Stupid!! You just took a NAP there's no way it's your fault!!!" (Bonnie looked angry, or, wait, was that concern?)

"We can figure out something, Siffrin. Even if you can't move tomorrow I'm sure Isabeau could carry you through the House." (Odile adds, you sense some teasing in her voice.)

"M-ME?!?" (Isa replies.) "I-I mean, of course!! I would any day of the week!! Haha, if Siffrin needs a hand somewhere then, u-uh--"

(You let out a weak laugh. Oh, oh Isabeau, oh everyone. . .) ". . . T-thank you. . ."

[. . .]

[You got the Memory of Powerless.]

[With the Memory of Powerless equipped, all your familys stats and EXP gain is doubled!]

[You may be unmoving, but they are willing to pick up the slack.]

[kirabasai]

svsss au where there's a system glitch that happens as shen yuan saves liu qingge from his qi deviation, resulting in sy's system being linked to lqg as well. aka, they share a system account. they share quests and points and everything. this... Changes things. such as well, the implications and fallout of an early system/identity reveal to one person, someone that hated the original shen qingque. but also, lqg being forced to have to work together and cooperate with an "imposter"! like in my head i can see lqg being rlly conflicted abt everything that's going on at the start. sy will get over it somewhat quickly i think because sure, why not, fuck you system!! but also in pidw lqg isn't a major character so i can see him having less hangups abt working w him. like his experience w lqg is basically a blank slate. but lqg? he has history w sqq. he simultaneously is on a blank slate and a huge monolith of history/shared experiences/past. he needs to not only adapt to that but also his new situation of sharing sy's system.

i've been microwaving this idea in my head for the last day or so and mmmm yes.s i love lqg. i haven't read svsss in like 4 or 5 years maybe so my memory of certain things is kinda fuzzy but i Cannot get this au idea out of my head

[fluffywing-e-tarot]

The God that Marks Garps Student

Koby was marked. Garp knew the scrawny brat was marked the moment he laid eyes on him.

Koby had a strong sense of Justice and a Protector of the weak.

So, Tsuisu mark wouldn't be surprising. However, by his Background report and his own personal testimony. Koby arrived on Shells with Luffy. And punched Koby declaring him not a member of the now named Strawhat Pirates

Nika's markings wouldn't be out of place either. 

The Cadet was kind too. There was a partnership blooming with the blond twigs. He has seen Astrus mark a Dog for its Loyalty.

Astrus' mark might be a stretch. As by some of the Reports he's snooped off of Senny's desk Ace has been making a mess in the New World.

So when he took them onto his ship. He was fully prepared for one of his three Godly Grandsons to show up.

He set about the offerings on the shrines. In his quarters. Knowing none of them could resist a snack after using their abilities to hop to a shrine.

Garp snapped awake when he heard shuffling in his room. He spotted the tails of a coat exiting his room.

It could only be Sabo that came to check on his student.

He bolted towards his Wayward grandson.

"You Get black here you brat." Garp said, running out onto the deck only to see Sabo leep off the ship like an escaping boy after hours.

The half-shaded face looked at him with the usual terror. As he disembarked from the ship. 

"Sabo, at least have the decency of a man to say hello to your grandpa!" he shouted after the boy. Sabo would be fine In the water. He could walk on moonlight. But his grandson didn't say anything as he swam away.

" Sir should we go after the stowaway?" One of the twigs on night watch asked.

"No. We'll just lose him in the moonlight. Return to your watch." Garp growled "I'm going back to bed."

" Yes sir." The twig said.

Continue

[lovesickeros]

popping in randomly after almost an entire month just to talk non stop about the tsaritsa again everyone sit down.

specifically just thinking about the implications of tsaritsa's ideals originally being about love + the abandonment of those ideals to complete her goal of, presumably, destroying Celestia or whatever she's cooking up. to the point even her people don't love her and I probably don't even remember a time her ideals were of love. now it's all just ice and snow and cold.

which makes romantic fics w her even funnier because she's purposely removed this part of herself and suddenly reader walks into teyvat like they own the place (they do) and I can only imagine her reaction. angry, probably. because why you? what are you doing to her that's caused her hundreds of years of strict adherence to rejecting "love" both from others and to others to just. collapse. absolute shattering of her world and you probably don't even know it bc if nothing else she's good at hiding it. a lot of denial. tries to pick you apart and see what's makes you so different.

and oh she just hates it. she loathes it.

basically one sided enemies to lover trope because she can't stand you for a while but if you stick around she starts warming up to you and it makes it WORSE. so much worse. tries to distance herself but your just everywhere and it gets on her nerves because why does she love you? she isn't capable of love, not anymore. she thought she was.

g-d forbid one of the harbingers or PIERRO notices she'd never live it down. might even consider the implications of just killing you (she doesnt). worse if you know about it and act like a brat she will lose her damn mind

just the tsaritsa being an absolutely horrible mess internally.

[dumbfucksystem]

thinking about mafia shen family au. the system is fucking around with shen qingqius life again and is like yk what if ur not gonna tell your husband anything about yourself then ill force you to. have fun! :D

sqq doesn’t even have the time to think 'wtfff??' before Everything Happens. shen yuan’s soul gets shoved back into his original body just moments before he dies. in this version of the au he was choking on food, so he gets the lovely experience of having his airflow blocked again! lucky for him, the system dragged binghe along for the ride so he is saved before he dies again.

this route for mafia au means that the shen family never had to grieve shen yuan. im not sure how the Family reacts to their a-yuan suddenly having a very strong and intimidating significant other (boyfriend? husband?!??? wdym he got married without telling us!?!?) all of a sudden. does shen yuan come out to his family?? no, but also yes, but also not really. they knew he wasn't straight this entire time, so its more like they are coming out to him instead of the other way around. god knows they have bigger skeletons in their closets, they don't care if a twink is in there too.

there is less angst here, and it mostly centers around the comedic factor of shen yuan showing binghe around his house only for them to "stumble upon" an entire closet filled with guns..!?! shen yuan is just standing there in complete horror as binghe grabs a whole ass ar-15!?!?? hes looking at him with the most innocent eyes asking him what this strange metal object is. jesus fucking christ. his white lotus is holding a gun and now he has to explain gun control policies while his brain is leaking out of his ears. he opens his mouth right before an alarm starts blaring everywhere. he’s saved by the bell! except not really, because now six members of his Family are surrounding them and pointing several guns at binghe!!!!! what the actual fuck is going on here!!!!!! this is not how the 'meet the parents' arc is supposed to go!!

[spookythesillyfella]

if i ever say that i dont like digitaltime . thatz not me – a skinwalker haz violently murdered me and stolen my identity – immediately seek shelter

[merakiui]

TWST APOCALYPSE AU.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀʙʟᴏᴛ ᴠɪʀᴜꜱ — a horrifying infection that has existed for centuries. it doesn't appear to be contagious (yet), but it has devastating effects on those who fall ill with it. it appears to manifest from within a mage, but researchers at S.T.Y.X. note there are external and internal factors that contribute to the speed at which it spreads. it may be possible to treat an infected individual, but it is difficult if not caught by the second stage and requires immense patience, effort, and resources. the virus appears to deteriorate both the body and mind, rendering the infected a mindless monster after a certain period of time.

it is recommended that you avoid those who are beyond saving, for they are highly dangerous!

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X., these are indicators that one has been infected. [please note that case-specific symptoms, while rare but not undocumented, seem to manifest in especially skillful mages.]

☒ patient coughs up a black, tar-like substance (this is known as and has been identified as blot).

☒ patient experiences heightened emotional fragility (especially for negative feelings).

☒ patient develops unsettling, pitch-black coloration on their fingertips.

☒ patient suffers from fatigue, persistent headaches, and irregular body temperatures.

☒ patient's tears and saliva are dark and thick; near-syrupy. gums and teeth are affected as well.

☒ patient claims to hear and see things that are not there (e.g., the wrong reflection in a mirror, a strangely-shaped shadow, voices).

☒ patient's magestone blackens with blot.

ꜱᴛᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X. after studying countless subjects.

STAGE 1.

little to no immediate changes or symptoms. patient appears mostly fine. they may not even realize they are infected at first and will only complain of feeling itchy or irritable. magestone has just begun to tarnish.

STAGE 2.

common symptoms begin to emerge and will only worsen with time. magestone slowly accumulates blot. fingertips will have begun to blacken. minor headaches stretch on into longer periods of time and grow to be more painful. patient may appear uncharacteristically volatile. blot eats away at the patient's magic reserves. it will spread quicker depending on how much magic is overused and if the patient shows extreme emotional distress. patient develops a cough.

STAGE 3.

patient will begin to see and hear things. S.T.Y.X. named these shadow apparitions phantoms. patient may cast a shadow (phantom) that is not their own. staining on the patient's fingertips will have spread further through the fingers by this point. magestone is very cloudy. patient is prone to coughing fits. patient is unable to recognize bodily cues for hunger or exhaustion. feelings of emptiness persist. patient may experience a stabbing sensation in their chest or stomach areas. patient may not seem very emotionally or mentally present. spotty memory; they struggle to recall what or why they are doing certain things. patient appears almost lost. patient's body undergoes various external and internal changes: loss of appetite, stained fingertips, rotting gums, weakened teeth and bone structures, tears and saliva take on the consistency and color of blot, inability to fall asleep, etc. the blot eats away at the patient from the inside after magic reserves have been depleted. patient is dying.

STAGE 4.

magestone is consumed by blot and is no longer safe to use. patient's internal structures are compromised and failing. blot sustains the patient; they become a host for the blot, which acts almost like a parasite. patient is no longer conscious or living. peculiar structures like extra limbs or unusual growths sprout from and deform the body. it is consumed by blot. the air around the infected patient is thick with a high concentration of blot. patient only speaks in guttural growls and struggles with certain syllables. some are capable of coherent, intelligent speech, but in many cases communication and language are usually lost, as is the memory of who they once were. S.T.Y.X. has yet to identify the lifespan of an overblot (the term coined for those who have succumbed to the infection), as some overblots can exist for a very long time. at this stage, an overblot patient is highly dangerous and hostile. avoid contact at all costs. [additional research on this stage and others is currently being conducted.]

ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴᴅᴇx — below are the dormitory strongholds with notable members and their current status.

RAMSHACKLE.

☒ yuuken enma - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuka hirasaka - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuta mito - not infected. immune.

☒ grim - suspected to be infected. stage: unknown. currently missing. last seen: ???

HEARTSLABYUL.

☒ riddle rosehearts - infected. stage 1.

☒ trey clover - not infected.

☒ cater diamond - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ ace trappola - not infected.

☒ deuce spade - not infected.

SAVANACLAW.

☒ leona kingscholar - infected. stage 2.

☒ ruggie bucchi - not infected.

☒ jack howl - not infected.

OCTAVINELLE.

☒ azul ashengrotto - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ jade leech - not infected.

☒ floyd leech - not infected. currently at risk.

SCARABIA.

☒ kalim al-asim - not infected.

☒ jamil viper - infected. stage 1, tipping over into stage 2.

POMEFIORE.

☒ vil schoenheit - infected. stage 2.

☒ rook hunt - not infected.

☒ epel felmier - not infected.

IGNIHYDE.

☒ idia shroud - infected. stage 3.

☒ ortho shroud - not infected. currently at risk.

DIASOMNIA.

☒ malleus draconia - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ lilia vanrouge - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ silver - not infected.

☒ sebek zigvolt - not infected.

ROYAL SWORD.

☒ neige leblanche - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ dominic - not infected.

☒ grum - not infected.

☒ shelpie - not infected.

☒ hop - not infected.

☒ timmy - not infected.

☒ snick - not infected.

☒ toby - not infected.

☒ che'nya - not infected.

NOBLE BELL.

☒ rollo flamme - not infected.

[al-luviec]

something simple to try to get out of art block (it didn't work)

[raina-at]

Write on any of my ten thousand WIPS? Write a fluffy sequel to a very popular fic?

Or start writing a 100+k obscure fantasy/YA AU with plot and angst and forbidden love nobody asked for and probably five people will read?

Well, the latter, of course. God forbid I do the sensible thing and work on the easy stuff.

[veryinnovative]

to celebrate reaching 50k with the amazing @thisliminalspacedaydreams a little moodboard sneak peek.....