#i really wanted to be a dreamer but alas

[cilly-the-writer]

WHAT SoS MAGIC TYPE ARE YOU?

Each quiz is 7 questions long. Questions are just for fun - feel free to skip!

Are you a Caster or Developer?

Are you an Acer or Optimizer (healer)?

Are you a Reader or Controller?

Are you a Realist or Dreamer?

MAGIC TYPES:

CORD | CARD | COCD | COCR | CORR | CACD | CARR | CASR | DORD | DARD | DOCD | DOCR | DORR | DACD | DARR | DASR

RESPECTIVE NICKNAMES:

Cord | Card | Coast | Coaster | Core | Cast | Care | Caster | Sword | Dart | Dice | Dozer | Door | Deck | Dare | Dazer

ABILITY DOMAINS EXPLAINED:

ENERGY:

Casters can manipulate pure energy.

Developers can develop high-density weapons out of pure energy.

MIND:

Reader abilities include emotion reading and thought reading.

Controller abilities include emotion influencing, mind control blocking, mind reader blocking, one-way telepathy, and general mind control

BODY:

Acer abilities include enhanced human capabilities; such as enhanced senses, speed, strength, spatial awareness, balance, aim, reflexes, breathing, vocal range, endurance, durability, memory, pattern recognition, etc.  

Optimizer (healer) abilities include healing and energy restoration.

ENVIRONMENT:

Realist abilities include telekinesis, elemental manipulation, and future reading.

Dreamer abilities include advanced manipulation of physics; such as time freezing, teleportation, materialization, temperature manipulation, transmutation, preservation, phasing, illusions, etc.

*Rare abilities in bold

**Some sorcerers have developer and caster magic, but it is not very common

[sol-draws-sometimes]

Every time I listen to vintage music, or "vintage sounding" music my dad says it reminds him of his mom. Excuse me while I go cry

[planetxiao]

# HAPPINESS FOR TWO

𖤐 umemiya hajime ; suo hayato ; sakura haruka x reader

⟢ fluff, scenarios // when their friends realized you’re good for each other.

𖤐 UMEMIYA HAJIME

Damn it all.

Hiragi wasn’t sure how, but he managed to make it home without realizing he didn’t have his antacid tablets on him. He checked – double checked – each of his pockets, but alas, they were gone. He sighed. There was only one place he thought it could be: back on the rooftop of Furin High.

He wasn’t usually forgetful, but it had been a long day, he supposed. That unnecessarily big fight took a lot out of him. 

It was like any other day, another leader of a gang demanding to fight Umemiya, except this guy was too persistent about it. In fact, all of his men seemed to have been of one mind. In the end, Umemiya gave him the fight he wanted. Of course, the white haired Bofurin leader reigned victorious, but he didn’t leave the fight unscathed. No one did. That being said, everyone was fine; they just left with minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

A meeting on the rooftop was held after the fight, each captain and vice captain giving their report before leaving for the day. That was when he must’ve set them down.

Hiragi trudged all the way back to Furin High, stomach turning at the possibility of getting roped into Umemiya’s antics again – if he was still there, anyway. The sun was about to set, and all of that day’s teams were on their last patrol shift. 

He had half a mind to kick down the door in irritation, but he resigned to pushing it open.  With his hands stuffed in his pockets, Hiragi’s eyes peeled this way and that to look for the very guy whose mere mention gave him indigestion in the first place.

Left, clear. Right, clear. A breath of relief… let out too soon.

Hiragi took one step before freezing. Sat at the picnic table about 15 feet away was Umemiya and someone he recognized to be his partner. 

Hiragi had seen you a couple times before. You would come to bring Umemiya lunch from time to time, and he would show you all of the plants he was growing in return. He really didn’t know anything about you but your name, nor did he ever feel the need to know more than that.

That was probably his fifth time seeing you. You both straddled the bench, facing each other, with your legs pulled over Umemiya’s. His hands rested on your hips as you gently wiped a cotton pad over the scratches on his face. Umemiya gazed at you with eyes that held nothing but love in them and a smile so easily made, like that of a dreamer stuck within his fantasies.

“Hajime, how many times have I asked you to be careful?” You sighed.

He laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, Sorry! I tried, I really did!”

You applied a large bandage to the cut on Umemiya’s cheek, shaking your head lightly.

“I know. I just worry about you.”

“I know, my love,” He cupped your face, “But, it’s okay. I’m okay! You don’t need to worry, I’ll always come back to you, okay?”

It was almost picturesque, the way you melted together like chocolate under the setting sun. Your forehead rested against his while he interlocked his fingers with yours. Hiragi felt bad watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

You giggled, “That was so cheesy, you dork.”

“What?! I thought it was romantic!”

He would rather eat his own shoe than admit this to anyone, but Hiragi smiled at the sight of Umemiya holding his world in the palm of his hands. He seemed to have found his true other half, someone that understood and cared for him in the way Umemiya deserved.

The creak of the rooftop door closing was heard by both you and Umemiya, the only sign that Hiragi was ever there. 

He’d come back for those tablets later.

𖤐 SUO HAYATO

Shouts bellowed down the street, drawing a crowd. It’s not unnecessarily unusual for a fight to break out there, but the people of the town watch as if it was the first time. Onlookers lined the walls of the narrow street close to the action.

Sakura and Nirei had been walking to meet up with Suo on their day off. They agreed to meet outside of Kotoha’s cafe at noon, but Sakura and Nirei were running late. As for why, well, Nirei had to take the time to go all the way to Sakura’s apartment and wake him up because he had overslept. Let’s just say Nirei had a rather stressful morning.

The fast shuffling of feet caught Sakura’s attention. He quirked a brow, looking up from his shoes to see a group of people in the distance. Some of them had been sent flying back in different directions, piquing Sakura’s curiosity.

What the hell? There’s a fight right now?

The itch of annoyance Sakura felt from that morning had him rearing to go. Nirei gulped. However, a comment from one of the onlookers was what sent them running towards the crowd.

“Hey, isn’t that eyepatch guy from Bofurin?”

Suo was in it?

They pushed through the crowd to see for themselves. Sure enough, they recognized the tassel earrings whipping in the air before they could even see their friend’s face. From the look of it, there weren’t that many foes left, and he had someone fighting alongside him.

You and Suo were back to back, taking one guy after another. Your movements mirrored each other as if watching a master and student. While your actions were more limited and practiced, Suo’s refined moves looked purely instinctual. He drew in his opponents with a mere look and had them on their backs within seconds. It was a violent dance that you both had invited your foes to.

Sakura and Nirei watched in shock, seeing these men drop like flies. It was ridiculous, this wasn’t a fight. There was no struggle from both sides, only one.

There were only two left, and Suo seemed to sense foul play heading in your direction. The sun gleamed off the metal bat that reeled back in front of you. You gasped. You weren’t used to fighting against weapons. Hell, you weren’t even that used to fighting in general. The guy smirked, swinging as hard as he could. But, the path of the bat was abruptly stopped as Suo flew through the air, swiftly kicking the guy in the face. The metal bat hit the ground with a clang, the owner flying back into a wall before crumbling onto the ground.

Suo’s venomous gaze lingered for a second on the man who sought to hurt you, though another one charged at him from behind. You called out his name – a warning hot on your lips. Suo took notice of the impending presence, but before he could turn and deal with the person, the crisp sound of a fist connecting with skin rang in his ears. Suo looked back, seeing the guy unconscious on the ground with most likely a broken nose.

Cheers erupted in the street, praising Suo and his partner in taking down the brutes. Sakura stuffed his hands in his pockets with a huff, while Nirei beamed at the two of you.

“Wow! I wonder who that person is. Do you know, Sakura?”

“No idea.”

As Nirei was about to approach them, he watched Suo take your hand in his and examine your bleeding knuckles.

You laughed bashfully and shrugged, “I improvised.”

Suo smiled softly, raising his other hand to caress your burning cheek.

“You did well, my dear.”

Oh! Oh.

Nirei whipped his head back to Sakura, about to shout about how Suo had a secret romantic partner, but stopped when he saw Sakura’s wide eyed blush. When Nirei turned back around, he saw Suo leading you into Kotoha’s cafe with a hand on the small of your back. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck.

The blond couldn’t help the way his lips curled. He ran after the two, pulling out his small notebook. That was the first time he had seen you, but he could tell you were special to Suo and he to you. You two made one hell of a good team. A scary one, but good nonetheless.

He just hoped he and Sakura would never do anything to piss you off.

𖤐 SAKURA HARUKA

Nirei was pacing.

“Where could he be? He’s never disappeared for this long before. One day, sure. But three? Something’s wrong. I just know it.”

Suo placed a hand on Nirei’s shoulder, a friendly smile remaining on his face. He understood that Nirei worried about Sakura as much if not more than anyone else at Furin High, but biting his nails over the issue wasn’t going to fix it. Ever the voice of reason, Suo spoke calmly to his friend.

“Relax, Nire-kun. The last time Sakura was gone, he was sick in his home, right?”

Nirei looked up at Suo, concern furrowing his brow.

“That’s the thing. I checked his apartment yesterday and he wasn’t there.”

Suo hummed. An interesting turn of events. He doubted that Sakura would just up and disappear – he could’ve just been out when Nirei came around. There’s an explanation for everything, after all. Sakura’s strong, it’s not likely he was kidnapped or anything of the sort. He was probably just sick again. Even so, it wouldn’t be good if Sakura was ill and wandering around…

“I see. Then why don’t we check one more time?”

Nirei nodded and turned on his heel, making a bee-line out of the classroom with Suo following behind.

Nirei kept a brisk pace. He was always at least three steps ahead of Suo, who kept his normal pace. It was Suo’s second time coming up on the desolate complex. The scenery was less surprising this time around, but the tattered place was eerie all the same.

They knocked once, twice, thrice, receiving no answer each time. Suo’s hand grasped the knob, remembering how it was unlocked last time they came to check on Sakura, and turned it. The door opened with a ghostly creak, no sign of life anywhere in the room. Suo called for Sakura. Still no answer.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Suo murmured, deja vu creeping over him.

Nirei followed. Suo slid the door to the main room open and was greeted by nothing, Sakura’s futon rolled away haphazardly in the corner. Not even his uniform hung where it was last time. Nirei began to wring his hands. Where the hell could Sakura have gone?

“Huh, he’s still not here,” Suo wondered aloud before turning to his worried friend, “Have you tried asking his partner if they’ve seen him?”

“No, I don’t have any way to contact them.”

The brown haired boy had an inkling that he knew where Sakura might be.

That was how they wound up on your doorstep after the sun had set. They had seen you quite a few times, even coming with Sakura to see you once or twice. Sakura had told them each time not to come, but of course his friends were curious about his partner. Suo would insist, while Nirei would just follow.

Like earlier, they knocked on the door and awaited a response. If he wasn’t here, Nirei was going to lose his mind.

The knob turned. Nirei didn’t waste a second.

“Hello, sorry for the bother, but have you seen-”

A hand covered his mouth, surprising him. When he looked up at you with wide eyes, you simply held your finger over your mouth, signaling him to keep quiet. Suo peered through the door behind you and understood.

Surrounded by various medicine bottles and a tissue box laid Sakura, sound asleep. His monochromatic hair splayed in different directions, twirled together in some spots like yin and yang. Nirei and Suo could see his reddened nose and cheeks from where they stood at the door. All tell tale signs of Suo’s confirmed suspicion. Taking one last peek, Suo and Nirei chuckled at Sakura’s sleeping form, a trickle of drool peeking from the corner of his ajar mouth.

You stepped outside with the two boys, closing the door behind you.

“Sorry Nirei, I didn’t want him to wake up. What’s going on?”

“Has Sakura been here for the past three days?” Nirei asked.

You nodded.

“He started feeling sick while he was here a couple days ago, so I’ve been taking care of him. He’s doing better though, his fever finally broke just before you came actually. Should be up and moving by tomorrow.”

Nirei breathed a sigh of relief. Sakura was fine, he could finally relax his tense shoulders. Suo’s usual kind smile melted into something softer after hearing your explanation. An unspoken thought was shared between the two boys as they glanced at each other. The heavy feeling of deja vu had dissipated because something was different this time.

Thank god Sakura has you.

note: i’m actually pretty happy with how these turned out :D also in suo’s, if not implied well, he taught you those moves :3 i hope their characterizations are all okay!!

[blksoysauce]

I want you.

Lucifer x reader

Tags: angst, unrequited love

Author note: lmfao I hate it it's not really good

Summary

" Once upon a time... you found yourself enamored with the most resplendent celestial being in the entirety of heaven, Lucifer. Alas, the fear of potential rejection deterred you from ever talking to him, ultimately leaving you consumed with remorse. "

You gazed upon Lucifer with eyes brimming with adoration as he talked about his ideas to a fellow seraphim. The seraphim appeared largely uncomfortable, attempting to end the conversation.

"What a shame"

you said to yourself silently, peering at him from a nearby tree. How much you longed to listen to him talk about his wonderful ideals.

Despite being a dreamer yourself, you lacked the courage to talk about your own ideals with the same boldness as he did. You admired him so much.

Your heart weighed heavily as you observed Lucifer's disappointment upon the seraphim's escape.

Yet, you remained silent due to your low angelic status, feeling small in comparison to THE Lucifer.

The idea of starting a conversation with him seemed nothing but inappropriate.

With a final quick glance at the golden-haired angel, you reluctantly turned away, leaving your dreams unspoken and unfulfilled.

While walking around heaven, your thoughts incessantly gravitated towards him... You wondered what kind of people he liked, his favorite color and his liking.

Before retiring to your home, you couldn't help but notice Lucifer's majestic wings spread as he descended to earth. Hugging your pillow, you fantasized about it, perhaps god finally approved his ideas about humankind. You couldn't help but smile at your sweet fantasy.

The following day you woke up with an unexpected visit from a friend, you could tell from her face that something unsettling happened. You grew anxious yourself as you learned that someone was put on trial by god, curious you and your friend went outside the trial room trying to get some informations.

As the resonant voice of God gave his judgment, your heart broke at the decree of banishment upon Lucifer. Witnessing angels roughly pushing him, you frantically went to a high rank angel for clarification, only to find out Lucifer gave free will to humankind without god's consent and had lustful interaction with Lilith (he banged her).

The passage of time failed to heal the sorrow that gripped your soul. Nights turned into weeks, then months, and eventually years, yet the ache of loss persisted. Each tear served as a reminder of all missed opportunities and unspoken sentiments.

UNTIL... Part 2

[obstinaterixatrix]

THE GLIMM*R ZINE IS AVAILABLE FOR DIGITAL DOWNLOAD TO BACKERS AND IT'S SO GOOD IT'S SOOOOOOOOO GOOD I think it has a good mix of requited/unrequited, mundane/fantasy, literal/figurative (though dreams inherently skew more figurative than literal) (maybe more... a good balance between a 'concrete' implementation of 'dream' in the sleep sense, and 'abstract' implementation of 'dream' as the wish/goal sense?)

all the artists did a great job, I think every single story was complete and satisfying and competently executed (though obviously some of them hit my biases more than others). I can think of positive and unique things to say about each story. so I will.

Midnight Smack by Anna Chen Campbell: The art style is fun and distinct and very expressive, I loved the role reversal of a fantastical creature being in the position of going What The Fuck. Very solid meet-cute!

Dear Nina by Kristina Luu: The story is told through the perspective character reminiscing of the past, which means a nice intimate first(/second) person narration. I really liked the mood whiplash of wistful longing and seething cynicism, the atmosphere is top-notch.

Good Morning, Rose by Rowan Maccoll: I love the dream vibes in this one--it really captures that experience of going along with different scenes that aren't supposed to cohere, disjointed in a way that works for the story. I love how the... not-really-negative space is used during the true form reveal, very atmospheric.

R.E.M. by Jona Li: It's one of the heavier stories because [spoilers] the narrative centers suicidal ideation/suicide attempt, and I think the artist does a good job with emotional nuance; I also like that there's ambiguity whether the subject of the dream is their real self, or a projection of the dreamer. The contrast between hard/soft textures is super arresting.

Merderous by Gabrielle Kari: The first of three illustrations! Alas, the two-page spread is broken up in pdf format... I can't wait to get my physical copy so I can see it in its fully glory... it's got what's clearly an intricate narrative with no context or explanation, so you get to puzzle out your own interpretation if you want, which I liked.

Eternal Waltz by Adeline Kon: EXTREMELY heated drama between women. It has resentment, it has longing, it has separation and bitter reunions, it has violence, and it has a butch woman who's definitely an arrogant fuckboy. I want fifty more comics just like this.

Derailed! by Kimberly Wang: I'm very unfairly biased towards this comic because I've been following this artist for a while and I Love Their Work. Great composition, great expressions, great energy, just all around great stuff (there's also an interview about Of Thunder And Lightning in this zine!). Anyway, they described this comic as "type A hobonichi girlie meets girl who's perpetually late and has no impulse control, who survives", it's very funny and very charming and I knew I'd love it from the very first preview. and I was right. I want fifty more comics of this duo.

The Visitor by Yuchen H: The second illustration, which is also the cover of the zine. The art looks so soft and edible, really captures a dreamy atmosphere. I want to bury my face in those feathers. The pain (and longing...?) for someone ignorant to the impact of their own actions... solid vibes.

One Last Dream by Laura Rovinsky and Ez Carol: The protagonist is an old woman in hospice care, which really grabbed my interest. Despite the heavy premise, it's super sweet and cute and Filled With Joy, and there were a lot of elements I liked (the main character being active in working with the love interest, the main character's waking life being enhanced by the dream, etc). I would love to see more old women protagonists!

Step By Step by Jess Fleming: I liked the maze setup--the artist did cool stuff like the blueprint-to-completed-gardens page, and the atmosphere's very... I think liminal fits best. Also, the impossible status divide between a groundskeeper and a noblewoman who's in an arranged marriage to end a feud, AND the emotional implications of constructing the maze PLUS having to guide the noblewoman to her betrothed? Very good setup for The Longing

Love Everlasting by Ellen Mei: The third and final illustration. VERY clear narrative and VERY heated drama. I love an unethical scientist and I love how Very Definitely Unhappy the android looks about the situation. Sooo tasty and unhinged, nobody's getting out of this unscathed.

anyway, those are my thoughts, must-read for yuri enthusiasts, if you didn't get the chance to back the kickstarter definitely pick up a copy once it's for sale. I love it.

[dangermousie]

I really loved the first six episodes of AJTL. It feels adult in a way too few cdramas do nowadays. The protagonists are (sometimes sociopathic, weird) adults and the narrative is adult and the humor and darkness are both adult. Now, I don't mean this is some sort of meditation on the human condition like Royal Nirvana or NiF or Three Kingdoms, but the situations and characters are of a nature you wouldn't usually see in youth-oriented stuff nowadays - whether it's the fact that our FL just wants to ML for stud so she can have a baby with good genetics and no family ties or the fact that literally every politician in this is a complete scumbag.

I actually love that our FL isn't just the most terrifying mofo in the narrative full of killers but that she is a bona fide borderline sociopath who has no understanding of boundaries or proper behavior or consent or even any sort of flirtation let alone a deeper feeling. She's been a killer since childhood; what normal does she have? The fact that she's managed to have any sort of emotions left is a miracle.

So her deciding she needs a child because her benefactor told her she should as a dying wish and picking a sperm donor in our ML because he's suitable, all with about as much understanding of relationships as an alien - she doesn't want ML because she fancies him, she doesn't want a child to love. It's basically a weird duty thing. It all makes sense.

It's a wonderful gender reversal, with FL the goal-oriented, robotic psycho and ML going "but wait a minute, feelings, also no way, no how." His realization as to how crazy she is, is something else.

Look how she explains it, as if it's the most logical business transaction - your genetic material is great, you are not married so nobody will be hurt, if you die on this mission you will have someone to carry on your lineage, you are scheming so if a kid takes after you and is scheming, it's good. None of it will seduce a man in the least, let alone anything further. But I think in a way it's a weird mark of respect where she's not trying to lie but put all her cards on the table. But also - it shows how far from normal she is that she doesn't even realize how insane it sounds to anyone. He may be a spy but his life has been pretty different than hers; he's got friends and he had family - he is a fairly functional dude. She doesn't have any relationship, and the closest she had was weird stubs...

Like - she is acting like an alien...

Yeah, I don't think psychotic rose through the ranks assassins are big on consent.

She's bona fide nuts and I love that for once we have an unhinged FL. But one of the things I love so is that you slowly see her melt a little around the edges, if barely, because he keeps treating her as a proper lady however murdery and crazy she gets - she was an assassin and then she was a spy-whore, she's basically never been treated as a proper person instead of a tool, except possibly by the dowager and that was a long time ago. No wonder she gets drawn in - like she did by his decency in that rooftop speech scene. It's such a great reversal!

Like she genuinely doesn't get why he doesn't jump at the offer.

I really do love the ML who'd be the unhinged one in any other drama but here he's the sane one. And also his angry decency is mmmm.

I don't usually have fantasy casts for characters; there are very few exceptions - CFY and LYX for the mains of 2ha, Chen Kun for the ML of Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir, SZE for Prisoner of Beauty (alas), but LYN is on that short list - he's 100% my fan cast for Yuwu's Mo Xi and stuff like this gives me mad MX vibes:

I mean...

Anyway, this drama is awesome!

PS also the way secrets don't get dragged out. ML knows her true identity and we are long moving on to other stuff, hooray!

[monstraduplicia]

tag game!!

tagged by @saltbind tysm <3333

Do you make your bed? not unless I'm changing the sheets or having company over. I don't really see the point in it for me

What's your favorite number? 25 and 23. don't ask me why they've just stuck

What is your job? I am a housemom at a strip club. Basically I keep the dressing room clean, take care of the dancers, count money, and do paperwork. it's a fun job that really works for me, but the pay isn't like. the best ever.

If you could go back to school, would you? literally if I had the time and money I would love to finish my degree so I could get an actual adult job (or be a teacher like I've always wanted) but alas.

Can you parallel park? I've never tried and I think I would be too scared to try if the situation arose

A job you had that would surprise people? I've only ever had the one job but it surprises people all the time bc they don't know it even exists

Do you think aliens are real? probably but that has nothing to do with me so I don't have much of an opinion. I feel the same way about God

Can you drive a manual car? nope

What's your guilty pleasure? i am not catholic so i do not feel guilt about things that bring me pleasure but I do get embarrassed sometimes. reading fanfiction when I'm hyperfixating on something is high on the embarrassing list. not bc it's fanfiction but specifically the subject matter

Tattoos? none. ideally I would like some but i have zero pain tolerance and also zero money so never gonna happen

Favorite color? black, red, all shades of brown, burnt orange, and mustard yellow

Favorite type of music? most genres of rock, especially 90s alt

Do you like puzzles? i love puzzles!!!!!! it's why I love putting furniture together bc it's just a big puzzle

Any phobias? no. I've never been like. needlessly scared of things. I do really fucking hate spiders though

Favorite childhood sport? I've never liked sports like. at all? dodgeball was kind of fun if I had to pick one. does that even count?

Do you talk to yourself? constantly just not out loud. I have a never ending stream of consciousness at all times that shifts from narrating to conversing with myself to first person analysis of what I'm doing/seeing

What movies do you adore? dangerous question for me but some of my favorites are: velvet Goldmine, mysterious skin, dazed and Confused, empire records, chained, shame, cruel intentions, deadgirl, Detroit rock city, the dreamers, the cell, interview with the vampire, magnolia, labyrinth, hard candy, sex lies and videotape, mirrormask, amelie, fallen angels, almost famous, before sunrise, one hour photo, possum, the devils candy, all that jazz, the boat that rocked, slc punk, the fifth element, st elmos fire, the company of wolves, the passenger, like minds, a reflection of fear, the holdovers, and dinner in america

Coffee or tea? tea bc I hate coffee with a passion but I'm not even that big a fan of tea

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? when I was a kid I wanted to be an actress or singer, but I've wanted to be a teacher since I was like 14

tagging: @emiliosandozsequence @vampireassistant @mrcrepsley @planswithinplans @maythyknife @jamesheathridge

[giggly-squiggily]

*Spits out my water and falls on the floor coughing* Fic requests are open?! Niceee! Heyo Squiggly! How are you doing? I just read your Lee! Rui Ler! Enmu fic and it was adorable😭. May I please request a part two of that fic with Lee! Enmu and Ler! Rui (platonic) Idk why, I just find this paring funny and our Rui must get his revenge🤣

{Requests are closed! This is an old ask!}

Heyo anon! I'm certainly alive! kjlarkjeajkrkjekjr But really, I'm doing good! Of course you can ask for part two with our lower moons! I love writing them so much, so it's always a blast revisiting Enmu and Rui. I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mystwrites

“I had a dream you came down from heaven, my dearly beloved, my darling-” Enmu paused their singing, looking down when they saw cobwebs. “Oh?”

There wasn’t just one- there were multiple. Long and silky, they decorated the hallway like human’s cheap halloween decor, a clear sign Rui had been around. Curious, the dreamer reached out and ran a finger against them to see what would happen.

“There you are.” Rui’s voice was like a droplet in a calm river, sending shivers throughout Enmu. “Found you, Lower 1.”

“Rui! You’ve spooked me! Oh, I haven’t felt that way in decades!” Enmu turned, a  hand to their chest as they gazed upon the younger demon. “So these webbings of yours- are they decorations?”

“You could say that.”

“Ah. Well- they are quite lovely. Alas, I must be going. Lord Muzan entrusted me with an important task, you know.” He didn’t- Enmu really just wanted to go back and dream again. “Excuse me-”

The webbing on their leg suddenly thickened, sticking to the ground and entrapping Enmu. The threads nearest also stretched out, piercing the fabric of their clothes. “What’s the rush? You had all the time in the world the last time it was just you and me.” Rui sounded scary calm, eyes piercing into the dreamer’s back as he moved towards him. “I don’t think Lord Muzan would mind if you were delayed a bit.”

“Hm…” Enmu pulled at the threads with a tsk. This wouldn’t do at all.

“Very well. I’ll play whatever game you want, little spider. However- I wish to be untangled. This predicament is rather…unpleasant.” Enmu tugged some more, face pinched at how thick everything seemed.

Rui considered, staring for a moment. Then the threads loosened, the thick cobwebs easing away until there was nothing left.

“Thank you.” The dream demon smiled.

Then they ran.

“Ahahahaha! Come catch me now, little spider! If you do- we’ll play!” They cackled as he took off, flying down the cleared halls of Infinity Castle and leaving Rui behind. They weren’t gonna truly leave- just get far enough to hide; plan their attack. Oh, the look on his face when they jumped out-

The ground came faster than Enmu expected.

“Ooh…” They groaned, reaching up to hold their nose. When did they trip? Surely they must have hit a snag-

The solid ground slowly began to move upward. There was a distinct tug at their ankle.

Oh.

Oh.

“You really thought I got rid of all my threads? What kind of demon do you take me for?” Rui pulled them in slowly, winding the single string back as Enmu scrambled for purchase on the smooth wooden floors. “Caught you, Enmu.”

“R-Rui! Wait, please! I assure you- I was just pulling your leg!” Enmu twisted when they reached the spider, holding up their hands with pleading eyes. “T-Tell you what! If you let me go, I-I’ll give you good dreams!”

“Hm..nope.” Rui sat on their legs, shaking his hand free of the thread before rolling up his sleeves. “Here I come.”

“Rui! Rui ple-ehehahhhahhahahahahase!” The dreamer all but squeaked when fingers dug into their sides, tapping along their waist and lower ribs. “Aheahahahahahaha hahhahahng on! Gehahhahhahaha it tihiihiihihckles!”

“I know- that’s why I’m doing it.” Rui snickered, pleased. He danced his fingers along Enmu’s torso, drawing out the endless bouts of mirth. “Last time we played, you made me realize we demons are still ticklish."

"Yehahhahahhahahs, thhahahahat's trhuuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu! Ahehahahahahhahahaha, Ruhuuhuhui! Wahhahahhahahait!"

And from what Lord Akaza told me, you’re just as bad if not worse.” A prod to their highest ribs. “Apparently…” Another to the center of his torso. “You’re really ticklish…” Another to his lowest ribs. “Riiiiiight….”

“Ruhuhuhuhuhui! Ruhuhuhuhi please- PLEHAHAHASE!” Enmu squeaked, giggling up a storm when those hands rested on their hips, just…staying there. “Pleahahhahse, Ruuhuhuhui!”

“Hm…” Tap, tap, tap. Rui drummed his fingers as he considered. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Enmu anticipated, but it still made them squirm. “Well…I suppose you did give me nice dreams after…”

“Yehahahahahs! Yehahahhas I did!” Mercy?

“......Yeah, I’m still gonna tickle you.” Oh no!

“Ru-EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEI!” Thumbs drilled into their hips, making Enmu shriek. Cackles and snorts mixed through the air as they thrashed and squirmed beneath the spider, slapping the ground rapidly. “OHOHOHOOHKAY OHOHOHOHOKAY! PLEAHHAHHAHSE NO MOHOHOHOHORE!”

“Heh, alright.” Finally, the tickling came to an end, Enmu laying back with a low groan as Rui climbed off. “I’ll let you live…for now.”

“Oohohoho~ So scary! Still my quivering heart.” Enmu sat up, raising wiggling fingers as Rui backed up in wide eyed panic. “My turn, little spider~.”

“What? N-No! Stay a-way!” Rui ran, thread abandoned as he flew down the halls.

Enmu cackled like a child, delighted their trick worked. Pulling free of the threads, they stood, stretching out their shoulders. “Oh the joy to just play. It’s like a real life dream. Thank you, little spider. I had alot of fun today.”

Now- time to go find Akaza and repay him for ratting out their tickle spots.

Thanks for reading!

[regal-rosebuds]

Hello again. This is a past anonymous. I'm sorry for constantly bothering you here (if that's the case). I mean, since I'm new here, I ask quite a lot of questions, even banal ones. Of course, I try to figure everything out with the help of independent searches, but it doesn't always work out so well, alas. So, I just wanted to know. You have some special blogs (you know the same regressors, maybe dreamers, educators) and special people with whom you have already established close contact in this… Is it a community, if that's what you can call it? I understand that this can be quite personal information, so if it's too much, then you don't have to answer. It's just that because I'm new and I keep coming across different places, posts, blogs, even in my searches, but I don't really know how to do it… to start… Are there acquaintances here? I'm sorry if it sounded crumpled, I honestly don't know how to express my thought more clearly and clearly.

It can also send a double message, I'm sorry if that happens.

ꔫ No worries!! No need to apologize, my blog is here to answer questions like these! Don’t feel like a bother when you’re just trying to learn.

ꔫ Maybe you want to use an emote signifier so I’ll know it’s you each time!

ꔫ But I digress.

ꔫ Many of my friends in agere or carers are people who I already knew elsewhere but taught about regression. I have met a good few friends from agere discord servers though!

ꔫ I used to be really active in the regression discord community, but it got a bit stressful with my other life factors.

ꔫ As far as Tumblr goes, I don’t have many, if any, close friends on here! Much of my posting is replying to randoms. I do have a few mutuals, but I don’t often go out of my way to become mutuals with others or talk very often with them simply because I’m not too educated on how that part of Tumblr culture works!

ꔫ TL;DR I’m pretty much flying as solo as you are!

ꔫ People like you with kind messages or likes or reblogs are pretty much the only way I know that my posts are coherent!

ꔫ For me, it was better to create an agere lifestyle off of social media with the help of close friends. That way you have an anchor and kind of know what content you’re interested in/looking for.

ꔫ When I’m not posting here, I’m just scrolling through tags or being taken care of by my Knights while I’m regressed.

ꔫ It’s best not to over complicate it in my opinion!

ꔫ P.S. it is 5 am, so sorry if some of my sentences don’t make complete sense!

[weemsfreak]

Nevermore Academy No No's

Hi all, I read this fic by Pomegranatesandpoetry on ao3 (@dormiveglia-dreamer ) and I thought about writing some small stories explaining how some of these things ended up on the list, so here I am! They said they wouldn't mind if I did this :) If you didn't read the list on ao3 I would recommend, it's really funny!

200 things you aren’t allowed to do at Nevermore Academy (2445 words) by Pomegranatesandpoetry

Larissa Weems x Student Reader

1. Principal Weems has never, at any point, ever, been a knight.

It was late October as you pulled through the gates of Nevermore Academy, your new school. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, you had been attending the same school most of your life. You've always felt out of place at school, around people all together, actually. Just recently, your powers presented themself to you, and your dad being a normie, didn't know how to deal with them. Alas, you were shipped off to Nevermore. Despite feeling like you were hiding all of your life, you would soon come to realize that Nevermore would allow you to be yourself, in whatever way that meant. Unfortunately for Principal Weems, that meant she would have her hands full.

You were led to huge wooden doors inside of the school with a plaque that read "Principal Weems". You were told to enter and you did so, sitting in front of the principals desk when she motioned to the chair. "You must be Y/N Y/LN, we're so glad to have you. I'm Principal Weems" the principal smiled. You nodded your head, "Thank you Principal Weems!" As the woman looked toward her computer, you took a moment to study her face. She looked familiar to you, but you'd never met her before. She was pale with light hair, big blue eyes, deep smile lines, and a scar on her upper lip. You tilted your head in question, who did she look like? You pictured her with less makeup and shorter hair, and it came to you. "Oh my god, we're you a knight?" The principal turned her gaze to you and furrowed her brows, a grin forming on her face. "What?" she chuckled, confused. "Have you ever been a knight? Did you used to have short hair? You look so familiar to me, I know you were a knight!" Principal Weems brought her hand to her mouth to cover the giggles spewing out of her. Students were always hard to deal with in one way or another, but she didn't expect you to come in saying the most random things, considering you two had just met. She shook her head "No, I'm not a knight, and I have never been one." You narrowed your eyes, you didn't believe her. "Then why do you look like Brienne of Tarth? And why do you have her stature? And accent?" you crossed your arms and leaned back in the chair. The principal folded her hands in front of her and sat up. "Y/N, I don't know who Brienne of Tarth is, but I can assure you, I am Principal Larissa Weems. How could I be a knight if I'm a principal?" You pursed your lips, pondering over her reasoning. "Maybe you were a knight before you were a principal" you said with a head nod, grinning at her. She scoffed and looked back at her computer, trying to read your file. You looked around her office, she had a bear, a raven, mirrors, books, you name it. You had decided in this moment that you were going to make the principal like you, but by being an annoying menace. You wouldn't do anything really dangerous of course, you just wanted to have some fun and make things interesting. You smiled a sly smile and looked at the principal. She was still staring at her computer, but felt you eyeing her. "So, your father couldn't make it?" she spoke before you could. "He has work" you sighed. She looked at you, giving you a reassuring smile. After the principal asked some questions and gave you your school schedule, she stood and motioned to the door. "Shall we go meet your new roommate?" she said with a wide smile. You looked up at her, she was really tall. "Sure, but I have a question first" you paused. Her smile faded, "Okay, what's your question?" You glanced around her office walls like you were looking for something, "Where's your sword?"

In Ophelia hall, you met your new vampire roommate, Yoko. "Y/N Y/LN, this is Yoko Tanaka" the principal smiled. You reached out your hand to shake Yoko's "Nice to meet you Yoko." The principal told you that you could put your things on one side of the room and then said "Yoko, please take Y/N to the registrar's office to pick up her uniform, and give her a tour along the way." Yoko smiled at you and took the lead. As you exited the room, you whispered loudly to Yoko, "I heard that Principal Weems used to be a knight." You turned your head and winked at the principal before you were out of her sight.

The Principal sat down at her desk after making sure you were settled in. She placed her head in her hands and sighed dramatically. It was bad enough that she had to deal with Wednesday Addams, but you seemed to be a menace as well. She didn't want to have to do this, but she figured it would keep the recklessness and rumours at bay. She pulled out her notebook and began writing.

Things you aren't allowed to do at Nevermore Academy:

1. Principal Weems has never, at any point, ever, been a knight. Spreading rumours or taunting regarding this is not allowed.

[waytooinvested]

fanfic writer questions

Thanks for the tag @sssammich! I haven't done one of these in years, I'm excited :D

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 11, but a couple are long ones (100,000+ words)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

406,700 and counting - one of those is a WIP that will have a lot more to add so I MAY make it to 500,000 in the coming months, if I write another couple of short ones on top.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now I'm just writing for Supergirl (and supercorp specifically). In the past I wrote a lot for Call the Midwife (Patsy x Delia, my beloveds), and I have written one small one for Strange the Dreamer, just because I had an idea that wouldn't leave me alone until I got it out.

I tend to be a bit all or nothing with fandom, so I am usually only in one at a time.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Hands I Used to Touch (Patsy/Delia - Call the Midwife) by a landslide. It also (briefly) had the most comments of any fic in the fandom which was very cool (it was the one I was writing for longest during the peak engagement era for the pairing, but still it is my crowning achievement as a fic writer haha)

After that Vengeance, Victory and Undying Love (Supercorp), Little Things Mean A Lot tied with A Paper Bag of Pick n Mix (both Patsy/Delia), and Storybooks and Siren Suits (also Patsy & Delia, but as children so not a romantic pairing)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Definitely! I try to respond to every comment, because they mean so much to get and I want the people taking the time to write them to know they are extremely appreciated. Also I have made some wonderful friends that way!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I am allergic to angsty endings! Angsty beginnings? Almost inevitable. Angsty middles, sure. Angsty ENDINGS? Never. So angstiest: maybe "The Static of Distance" from my Paper Bag of Pick n Mix, because they are still half a world away from each other during a threat of nuclear war. But even so it's only an angsty ending if you squint really hard.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

They all have pretty unambiguously happy endings honestly, I'm not sure I could pick between them!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I've ever had hate as such. Some maybe less than whole heartedly positive responses, though most of that was when I was teasing an apparently dark character arc before a twist and making people worried about what I was up to. But see above re: all of my fics having absolutely unambiguously happy endings, so we got there eventually.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not so far - I think the closest I have come was my wife and I writing a silly crack fic together that involved smut, but it was not at all meant to be actually sexy and we never posted it anywhere, sooo...

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not typically, but there was A Misplaced Midwife, in which Barbara from Call the Midwife (a fairly sheltered young 1960s midwife played by Charlotte Ritchie) traded places with Hannah from Siblings (a modern day selfish, chaotic disaster human also played by Charlotte Ritchie) and how they got along in each other's lives. It was silly and crack-y but a lot of fun to write.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, thankfully!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Alas, no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

The aforementioned crack fic with @cynicalrainbows but that was just for our own entertainment. She also contributed several lines/ideas to A Misplaced Midwife. I don't think I have apart from that.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I only really have two that I've been invested enough to fic about it, and while my current all consuming obsession is Supercorp, I have only been in it for a couple of months compared to the years long love affair with Patsy/Delia that also led to me meeting my wife and many good friends. So for now, Patsy/Delia still reign supreme. We'll see if that is still the case in a few more months!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I try to always finish my fics, but I do have one unfinished wip on my conscience, and that's Storybooks and Siren Suits. I still open it and do battle with progress now and again just in the hopes that I will manage to drag it across the finish line and put it to bed once and for all, but so far nothing doing. It remains stuck on the same chapter it has been stuck on since 2021.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh no don't make me pay myself compliments... Angst with happy endings? That is not really so much a writing strength as just a description of the type of story I write, but shh. I guess I got a lot of compliments on characterization back in my Call the Midwife days. Whether that follows through to Supercorp remains to be seen. I like how I'm writing them, at least!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My dialogue transitions tend to be clunky, at least so I'm finding lately. Also I am a total feast or famine writer, so any kind of sensible process or schedule discipline is completely non existent.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I avoid it for the most part because I would certainly make a mess of it, though I have one or two very very brief bits here and there. I think the longest piece was a character recalling their own long distant school french, which contained deliberate mistakes the character was making that acted as excellent cover for the genuine mistakes I no doubt also made.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I'm trying to recall if I ever wrote anything as a young teenager for Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Willow/Tara, naturally), but I don't think I did, and if so it definitely stayed as tucked away in an old notebook never to see the light of day. The first proper/definite one was Call the Midwife, just after they decided it would be a good idea to hit Delia with a car and give her amnesia right at the moment she and Patsy were about to move in together.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Well right now it's Forgotten Not Forgiven for sure, because that's where my obsession is currently living.

Of all time though? Probably still The Hands I Used to Touch, because I poured everything into it at the time and it played such a big part in me finding my feet in the fandom world. No pressure to do this at all of course but tagging @cynicalrainbows @fabulousglitch, @shut-up-heather-d and @fazedlight as people I know write fic and may enjoy this if you haven't done it already. Anyone else interested feel free to claim me as your tagger, I would love to see your responses!

[wolfsbane-and-nettles]

Bilbo Sessile Baggins, son of Bungo, son of Mungo....

...or, Blessed Child of Yavanna, Babble Baggins, Petraea, Prince of the Shire, and Lorembaron...

Promo art, if you will, for my latest fic that will be published soon on AO3.

{Chosen Horizons }

Summary:

In the rolling hills of the Shire, where the simple life is cherished and magic is a rarity, one hobbit was blessed by the Valar themselves, Bilbo Baggins. Unfortunately for Bilbo, his abilities brought him nothing but trouble and strife, and so he strived to live a quiet and unremarkable life and fit in with the rest of polite hobbit society. Alas, fate had other plans for him, and when the call to adventure came in the form of a band of dwarves seeking his aid on a quest to reclaim their homeland, Bilbo could no longer ignore the Valar's will. His journey would be perilous and his path uncertain, but with steadfast companions by his side and a love that burned brighter than any forge, Bilbo would rise to his destiny and become a hero of legend.

Chosen Horizons is a Bilbo/Thorin fanfic about a certain reluctant hobbit and determined dwarf who are both too stubborn for their own good.

***

This fic has a fully completed rough draft of 480+ pages, and the first few chapters are currently being beta'd before publishing. I am incredibly proud of this fic and I cannot wait to share it with everyone! It is incredibly lore heavy and I have done SO much research and am excited to geek out about it with ya'll.

Nerdy bits in the pic:

Fortinbras I Took's wife is never named...so I decided to give her one. She is named Lunabia Underhill. Lunabia has multiple meanings/symbolisms...my favorite being "am I forgotten?" (and Underhill because it is a rather common family name in The Shire and Bree, and I felt that Bilbo would probably use a family name when he's using a fake name).

Lorembaron: Lore (dreams/visions) + Umbar (fate/doom)+ On , more or less meaning "Dreamer of Fate" or "He Who Dreams of Fate" in Quenya.

This fic will have a good bit of Elvish (Sindarin and Quenya) and Neo-Khuzdul in it...but I am no Middle-Earth Linguist, so please take my translations loosely.

I'm super excited to get this published and share it and I hope, when I do, you all enjoy it!

((And yes, I just really wanted to have a hobbitish photoshoot for my picture of Bilbo...))

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, chapter 7: The Dreamer

Hello! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate and happy Friday to those who don't! SOME VERY IMPORTANT LINKS HERE:

First off, there's fucking fan art of one of the chapter 6 scenes here. It's amazing. It's wild. I'm never going to get over it. Thank you @notthatkindaboy!!

Second, there's a playlist. I wish 8tracks was still alive because Spotify simply doesn't have the same vibes, but, alas. If anyone else would like it, it is here. :)

Third, like normal, this is posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Kirk sat in his chair on the bridge and compulsively read and reread the simple missive he had drafted. Spock had read the first version earlier that morning when Kirk pounded on his door thirty minutes before they normally departed for breakfast. He had opened the door in surprise, still in his robes and smelling faintly of incense, before taking the padd, skimming the message, and cutting out nearly all of Kirk’s overwordy explanation and justification until just the invitation remained. “I recommend only providing the information that matters, captain,” he had said, but he had left Kirk’s sole creative indulgence in the message. Bones had read the shortened version over breakfast and just shook his head, smiling ruefully at Kirk, before handing it back as “more than good enough, Jimmy.” Uhura had read it in the first five minutes of alpha shift and messaged back, “Thank you for keeping him with us” and a winking emoticon, but no feedback. It seemed that it was as good as it was going to get. 

He set the padd down and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. He wanted the bridge crew to find out from him, not from the message to the whole ship. He owed them that. They had become his family sometime between first takeoff and the edge of Federation space, and theirs were the only opinions that he truly cared about. His breath caught in his throat every time he thought about making the announcement, but then Bones came up to harass Spock about avoiding his yearly physical and Scotty stopped by to talk to Chekov, and he wasn’t going to get a better moment than this one. 

Scotty patted Chekov on the shoulder and said, “Aye, good lad,” before turning to the turbolift to depart. Kirk’s mouth moved before his brain had caught up and said, “Scotty, stay for a moment, would you?” 

“Of course, captain,” Scotty said, immediately rocking onto the balls of his feet. Kirk turned over his shoulder to where his two best friends were bickering and found Spock’s eyes. God, they were really doing this. This moment, with so many of the people he loved desperately in one room, could have been one of the last that they were all together. He could have been counting down every minute, every second, hoarding every memory of Spock at his side until he was gone. But instead they were going to get married so that Spock could stay, and in a year this would just be another moment on the longest continuum of happiness he had ever experienced. His heart clenched as he looked around at his friends again before his gaze landed on Spock, the Vulcan with the tiny, knowing smile, and he knew he was making the right choice. No stranger on a starbase could ever compare. 

Kirk grinned crookedly at Spock, and shrugged. Spock understood him immediately, as he always did, and nodded to Bones before coming to stand next to Kirk’s chair. Kirk shifted in his seat and looked up at him, asking permission. Spock leaned against the side of the chair, draped his arm across the back of it, and laid his hand over Kirk’s forearm, right over the command stripes on his sleeve. Well, that was about as clear an answer as he could have gotten. 

“As some of you know,” Kirk said, clearing his throat and looking at Scotty first, then the others, “for the past few weeks, the admiralty has been attempting to recruit Mr. Spock to a new position. The captain’s position on a science vessel, to be precise.” Sulu spun around to look up at Spock from his seat, horror dawning on his face. His eyes immediately snagged on Spock’s hand. “However, Mr. Spock does not want it. He tried to reject the promotion. The admiralty made it clear that they were not going to take no for an answer, and, in fact, are going to meet us on Starbase 27 to talk to him about it. But…” Kirk inhaled deeply and clenched his hands into fists to hide their trembling. Spock pressed down gently against his forearm. “We…” The bridge was silent around him but for the gentle murmuring of machinery, every eye on him. He looked up at Spock, all his carefully planned words abandoning him. He wished he had stood up to do this. He had for so long tried to be the captain his crew deserved, refusing to bring anything too personal about himself to the bridge, and now he was going to lie to his crew and discuss his marital status in one breath?

“Starfleet regulations prohibit the separation of legally married couples,” Spock said, sliding his hand up Kirk’s forearm. “We wished to share with you now that the captain and I are in a relationship, and we are going to be wed with all possible expediency to prevent my forced removal from the ship.” 

There was silence on the bridge. Kirk tried to inhale, fighting the corseting of his ribcage freezing around his lungs. Bones hesitated by the banister and looked to Uhura. Spock’s palm seared a brand into Kirk’s arm. It anchored him to his chair.  Even the beeping of the consoles in front of him seemed to slow as the milliseconds stretched like molasses between what was before and what was after.

Sulu whooped. He tilted his head back with a smile, and his joyous shout broke the tension. The crew surged towards Kirk and Spock, voices rising, motion vibrating from every corner. Sulu stood and grabbed Kirk’s hand, pumping it vigorously and pulling Kirk to his feet, as Chekov pounded his console with an open palm and beamed. Uhura sidled up to Spock and took his arm. Scotty waited for Sulu to release Kirk’s hand before stepping in and pulling him into a brief, brusque hug. He released Kirk, grasping his shoulders, and said earnestly, “Ach, Captain, we’re all just so happy for you.” He turned to Spock, beaming, as Chekov shook Kirk’s hand, grinning madly. Everyone shouted over each other, talking to Kirk, talking to Spock, badgering Bones and Uhura for not being surprised, and the raucous din of excitement smoothed the sharp edges of Kirk’s worry. As Scotty interrogated Spock about their relationship and Kirk listened with growing amusement as Spock bald-faced lied about the past three years, he thought, for the first time, that he might have done his crew--- his friends--- a disservice. Their reaction to Spock’s announcement was so joyful, so immediate and eager… maybe it would have been okay to bring more of himself to the bridge. Maybe it was okay to show that, behind the Starfleet posterboy and the captain’s facade, there was just a man. Maybe the man wouldn’t have been a burden to them.

Spock stood at his shoulder, but instead of leaving a respectable six inches between them as he had for years, his chest brushed Kirk’s shoulder. Kirk leaned against him and blinked in surprise as Spock’s hand crept along his back to wrap around his hip, a possessive and unhesitating grip. Chekov and Sulu leaned against the console in front of them, both grinning shamelessly, and Kirk saw Chekov note Spock’s hand and elbow Sulu about it. 

“We still need to send word to the crew,” Kirk realized suddenly, after half an hour of basking in the glow of the bridge crew’s response. 

“When’s the big day, captain?” Scotty asked. 

“Two days from now, after alpha shift,” Kirk said. “We were thinking of doing it in the observatory.” 

“Mr. Scott, as the captain and I will be the participants, you will be the ranking officer,” Spock said. When he turned his head to address the engineer, Kirk felt his breath breeze past his temple, and he fought the urge to shiver. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so close to him intentionally. He could feel Spock’s steady breathing through their contact.

Spock waited, staring at Scotty intently. Kirk looked between them until Spock’s meaning became apparent, and he grinned. Scotty tilted his head. 

“Aye, Mr. Spock?” 

“That would leave you with the responsibility to officiate.” 

For a second, Scotty’s face went entirely blank as he stared at Kirk and Spock. Then the widest smile Kirk had ever seen from him spread across his face and the Scotsman said, “Gentlemen, it would be my honor.” The excited chatter continued, and Kirk took the opportunity to reclaim his abandoned padd from his chair. He skimmed the wedding announcement one more time. 

To the crew of the Enterprise: 

It is our deepest honor to invite you to attend the wedding of Captain James Tiberius Kirk and Commander S’chn T’gai Spock on Stardate 2721.2, 1900 hours. 

The ceremony will take place in Observatory A, with a reception in the crew mess to follow. Please consult your department head for shift changes and an updated schedule for the evening. 

Ad astra per amorem. 

Captain Kirk and Commander Spock

“Any last changes?” Kirk asked Spock quietly, holding the padd up. 

“None, captain,” Spock said, and his hand still rested at Kirk’s hip, holding Kirk against him. There was a small, scared, tired, habitual part of his brain that told Kirk that he should step away and stand on his own, but there was a new part, one maybe a little louder than his fear, that asked why. Why should he refuse something that felt nice, dishonor Spock’s effort and commitment to their plan, just because he didn’t need it? 

Kirk leaned more firmly against Spock, who adjusted his grip but did not let go, and he hit send. 

☆☆☆

When Sulu spent the next two hours with one hand on the console and the other playing hangman with Chekov, and Scotty never went back to Engineering in favor of chatting with Bones, Kirk realized that he probably should have foreseen a complete drop in productivity on the bridge after their big announcement. It felt like the holidays had come early. 

They were flying through nearly empty space, anyway--- there wasn’t that much to do. Kirk stood and stretched before meandering to Uhura’s station and squatting next to her console. She was flicking idly through the pages of a linguistics article on one padd and checking occasionally on a graph of growth on another. 

“What are you looking at?” Kirk asked, and he kept his voice low, beneath the hum of chatter behind them. Uhura immediately abandoned the linguistics padd and pulled the graph one towards herself. 

“Subspace usage after your little message, sir,” she said, and her eyes twinkled with mirth. She pointed to a tiny nub at the bottom of the graph. “This is your message.” Then she pointed to the first exponential spike. “And this is the immediate reaction after that message.”

“Hot damn,” he said quietly. The spike peaked shortly after his message, but it dropped slowly, as if people held conversations after the original outcry. Uhura tapped her fingers lightly along the edge of the padd. 

“Captain,” she said slowly. “Are you truly so surprised?” 

“After a few days, not so much about the crew reaction,” he said. “We had set out to make people talk. That was the goal. What I found most surprising was how readily we were believed. And that people already believed it… our relationship… to be real.” 

Uhura laughed at that, but her laughter trickled away as she saw the seriousness on Kirk’s face. “You really didn’t know, captain?”

“No,” he said honestly. “Why did people think that? It’s valuable now, because it helps Spock stay, but…” 

“Spock showed you the nurses’ chart, right?” 

“He explained it to me, yeah.” Uhura scanned his face, and sighed quietly through her nose at whatever she saw on it. 

“Imagine that you’re a nurse working on a starship, and one of the highest ranking officers is a Vulcan and galaxy-wide levels of famous for being unsentimental. Then imagine you work a night shift after a particularly ugly away mission and find that self-same officer sitting vigil, all night, next to the only man he has ever called a friend. Then he does not leave until it is clear that his friend is going to recover. And it happens over and over again. Wouldn’t you think that was something special?”

Speechless, Kirk looked over at Spock, hunched over his sensors. His shirt stretched over his back, revealing the breadth of his shoulders, the points of his shoulder blades, the length of his spine. He inhaled, turning back to Uhura, but she continued, “You know the security officers always talk about missions in the mess afterwards.” 

“Yes,” Kirk said uneasily. 

“They tell stories about how frequently you two jump in front of weapons, fire, man-eating plants, what have you, for each other. They have an unofficial protocol called ‘the Spock rule.’” 

“The…?”

“The Spock rule is that, if he is on a mission with you, they know that he’s going to be where you are. It changes how they position themselves in hostile situations.” 

“That’s…” Kirk trailed off. He knew how he and Spock were. He knew that he had put himself in harm’s way to protect Spock more than once, and he would do it again. And he knew that Spock protected him. He just hadn’t ever considered how it might look to other people. 

“That’s something special,” Uhura said firmly. “And those are only the dangerous things! To say nothing of the seemingly infinite number of chess matches and breakfasts! Goodness, captain, it’s a miracle that there was anyone left on the ship to convince.” 

Kirk opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it again. He looked back at Spock again, whose green-flushed ears gave away the fact that he was absolutely eavesdropping on their hushed conversation, and back to Uhura. Then he frowned. 

“If you knew all this, why did you let me and Spock run with this whole plan?” 

“You were just having so much fun,” she said easily, and turned back to her still-updating graph and linguistics paper. Kirk gaped at her and, recognizing the clear dismissal, left her to bother Spock instead. 

“Well, what did you think?”

“I thought it went well, captain,” Spock said, and finally relinquished his hold on his sensor to turn and lean against his console next to Kirk, looking over the relaxed bridge crew. Sulu had set the auto-navigation on and had turned entirely to some sort of complicated hand and card game with Chekov, who seemed to be winning. Scotty and Bones were bent over the schematics of Bones’s least favorite biobed, which was constantly on the fritz and gave all the Medbay staff heart palpitations. “I am curious to see how the rest of the crew reacts to the news.” 

“Uhura showed me a graph,” Kirk said. “We’re a hot topic of conversation.” 

“I do not doubt it,” Spock said. “A marriage between two officers is not a frequent occurrence.” 

“Did you hear all that she told me?” 

Spock paused, just a fraction of a second, and said, “I did.” 

“And what did you think of that?” 

“I did not know that the protocol had a name, but I had noticed that the security team used different formations when both of us were present on away missions. I did not realize that it was a direct result of my behavior.” 

“I had never noticed it,” Kirk admitted. “I mean, I know that you and I are always together. I just… I didn’t realize how it impacted others.” 

“Once Nyota explained their reasoning, it seemed like a reasonably logical belief to me,” Spock said. Kirk crossed his arms and nodded. It did make a certain amount of sense--- he couldn’t blame them for the assumptions. They stood side by side, talking to Scotty and Bones, until Sulu and Chekov insisted that they join their game. Spock listened politely to the instructions before arguing with Chekov about them and made everyone laugh, and the rest of their shift passed in a pleasant hum. 

When the beta shift crew arrived, they stole nervous glances at Spock and Kirk, smiling all the while.

“You’re relieved, sir,” Lieutenant Karros said, a young woman that Kirk thought had leadership potential. 

“Thank you, lieutenant,” he said, and nodded to her as he passed. 

“Sir,” she said, and looked between him and Spock and smiled shyly at him. “Captain. And Commander. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you, lieutenant,” he said again, and smiled back at her. “Much appreciated.” The rest of the relief crew chorused their congratulations as well, now that Karros had broken the initial ice of addressing a superior officer and Kirk raised his voice to thank them all. He was still grinning when the turbolift doors closed behind them. 

☆☆☆

Something in the hallway leading to the mess was different when they stepped out. Kirk froze in the hallway, the hairs on the back of his neck lifting as he subconsciously noticed the change, and Spock halted next to him. He gazed around, unbothered, before looking down at Kirk. Then Kirk’s eyes caught up to what his hindbrain had noticed: the hallway was decorated. Someone had taped streamers of green and gold, twisted into looping braids, from the turbolift to the mess hall entry. Balloons (where the hell had anyone gotten balloons?) of the same colors littered the floors, floated in the corners, bobbed along the ceiling. 

“Someone picked our wedding colors for us,” Kirk finally said, and grinned at Spock as they continued down the hallway. 

Spock considered them. “Apt, I believe.” 

“Oh? Why do you say that?” 

“Green for me, for obvious reasons. Gold for you. The symbolism of a braid. I believe it was the Celts on Earth who popularized the concept of handfasting.” 

Kirk’s brain was still catching up. “Why gold for me?” Spock halted in the hallway, turning to face Kirk entirely. Kirk stopped with him. They stood close together, though the hallway was empty; Spock had stepped into his personal space. Kirk had to look up to make eye contact. He felt oddly vulnerable as he did so. Behind the veneer of Spock’s usual resting face, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that Kirk couldn’t name. Spock’s hand lifted slowly and he cocked his head to the side as he reached, as if to twist a lock of Kirk’s hair between his fingertips, or touch the skin next to Kirk’s eyes. 

“Because you are golden, captain,” Spock said quietly. Something in Kirk’s stomach erupted into butterflies as Spock’s eyes widened infinitesimally and he dropped his hand, clasping it behind his back as he took a step backwards. He cleared his throat and looked away before meeting Kirk’s gaze again, and when he did whatever had been in his eyes was hidden away once more. Kirk stared at him, but the stone wall of Spock’s emotional control had returned, and there was nothing more to be revealed. Kirk mentally shook himself and gestured in front of them. 

“Shall we?” Kirk asked, and threw in a theatrical half-bow to break the sudden tension.

“Certainly,” Spock said, and they continued down the hallway. Even from meters away and through the closed turbolift he could hear the rumbling of laughter and voices.

“I believe we may be about to experience what humans refer to as an engagement party,” Spock said clinically. 

“Spock, judging by the noise level already, I think this might be a bachelor party.” 

Spock stopped. “Ah.” He glanced sidelong at Kirk again. “When you initially laid out your strategy for this week, I believe you underestimated the number of ship-wide parties that would be required. Or intentionally miscounted.” 

“Hey, I didn’t plan this one!” He looped his arm through Spock’s, tugging it out from behind his back and forcing Spock’s shoulders to unclench. Spock allowed him to maintain his grasp on his arm and to tow him to the turbodoors. 

“The hard part is over,” Kirk said. “It seems, for better or for worse, everyone believes that we’re together. Now all we have to do is have a couple of parties and submit the paperwork, and then you’ll never have to leave the Enterprise.” 

Spock tilted his head again, and his eyes softened. “I believe I can tolerate a few more gatherings in the service of our mission.” 

“Good man,” Kirk said bracingly, and the turbodoor slid open. A wall of sound smacked into them as a room’s worth of officers yelled, “Congratulations!” Uhura wriggled out of the crowd, grabbed them both by the wrists, and towed them into the celebration. It seemed like everyone who was lucky enough to not be on beta shift had crammed into the mess, lifting glasses and cheering. 

“This is what most people were messaging about today, sir,” she said, and she snagged a glass of champagne off a table and passed it to Kirk. 

“Sneaky, sneaky,” he said teasingly, and leaned against the table next to Bones, who was nursing a glass of whiskey. Uhura towed Spock off to somewhere else, vanishing into the crowd, and Kirk tilted his glass against Bones’s in a toast. 

“Seems the whole ship is happy for you, Jimmy,” Bones said, in between the row of crewmates who passed by to offer their congratulations to the captain. 

“I know,” Kirk said in wonder. “Can you believe it?” 

“Yes,” Bones said abruptly, and when Kirk looked over at him his face told him that Bones thought he was a dumbass. “How’re you doing, Jim?” 

“Great,” Kirk said, bewildered. “How are you?” 

Bones ignored his question. “You looked pretty cozy on the bridge. I didn’t know he had it in him. Did you coach him?” 

“No, actually,” Kirk said, and crossed his arms. “I told you, he agreed to it. He’s spent enough time around us that he knows how it works.” 

“And you like it?” 

Kirk glanced sharply at him as something cold and real dropped in his stomach. “What are you asking, Bones?” 

Bones held up his hands in a peace-making gesture and sighed. “Nothing. Nothing. I just worry about you, kid.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. So what if I like it? It’s just friendly.” 

Bones harrumphed and took another sip. “I’m glad he’s staying, Jimmy, I really am,” he said. He paused, as a few more crew members passed by to talk to Kirk, and then said softly, “I would just hate to see you break your own heart.” 

Kirk lifted his glass to his mouth. The bubbles burned his tongue on the way down. “It’s not going to be like that,” he said. He pushed the warmth of Spock’s eyes, his hand on Kirk’s hip, his aborted half-gesture in the hallway outside, from his mind. It was just friendly. It was just so Spock wouldn’t have to leave the Enterprise. There was no reason to think more about it. 

Bones looked over at him and sighed before clinking his glass against Kirk’s. “I can’t believe you are really going to pull this off,” he said. 

“Pull what off, doctor?” Spock and Uhura materialized over Kirk’s shoulder, Uhura with a cocktail glass and Spock with a mug of something steaming. 

“This,” Bones said, and gestured to the crowd milling in the mess. The mood was jubilant, celebratory, and every time Kirk made eye contact with one of his officers they invariably smiled and raised a glass to him. He grinned back at Giotto across the room as Spock drank delicately from his mug and said, “Indeed. I predict that our marriage will fulfill all intended purposes with minimal complications.” 

“How romantic. Exactly what I’d expect from a Vulcan,” Bones snorted. Spock raised an eyebrow and considered the doctor for a long moment. 

“Just because you cannot read our poetry does not mean that it has not been written, doctor,” Spock said, and Bones choked. Kirk and Uhura turned to look at him in shock and, in Kirk’s case, growing amusement. He tapped his glass against Spock’s mug. Spock took another sip of his drink before looking down at it, back at Bones, and then to Uhura. 

“I believe you have underestimated the intoxicating properties of this beverage, Nyota,” he said. Bones crowed with laughter.

“I didn’t expect you to drink half of it on the walk over,” Uhura protested.

Kirk peered into the mug. “Is that hot chocolate?” 

“Cocoa has an inebriating effect on many species from desert planets. We do not have climates conducive to growing it and thus have not adapted to metabolizing it,” Spock said. He leaned back, claiming the spot on Kirk’s other side, and planted his hand on the table behind Kirk’s waist. 

“Fair enough, Mr. Spock, fair enough,” Bones said, shaking his head. Their merry foursome turned back to the party at large, and eventually they were joined by the rest of the bridge crew, Giotto, and some of the other department heads. Someone, either Bones or Uhura, kept refilling Kirk’s glass when he wasn’t paying attention, and Spock had two empty mugs behind him and a third in his hand. The mess slowly cleared out as people excused themselves for bed or shift change or other responsibilities, but most people stopped by their table to congratulate Kirk and Spock and toast to them on their way out. More than a few people said something along the lines of, “I’m glad you’re able to share your relationship now,” and Kirk realized that it was not just Medbay and Security that had thought they were together: a few of Spock’s scientists said it, as did some engineers. 

“Mazel tov, Mr. Spock,” Dr. Khan said, as she strolled by with what Kirk thought might have been a protein shake. 

“Thank you, Dr. Khan,” Spock said, and his hand made its way from the table to around Kirk’s waist. She smiled at Kirk.

“We had hypothesized,” she said. “No one who is not one of us likes to spend that much time in the laboratories.”

“What were the other hypotheses, doctor?” Kirk asked, and allowed the weight of Spock’s arm to tilt him against Spock’s chest. Spock was so solid, and so warm. 

“Some had wondered if you were seeing someone else in secret, but you only ever looked for Spock,” she said. “Some thought you were just fulfilling captainly supervisory duties. One man, who shall remain unnamed, used your Academy senior thesis as a foundational text in some of his own research and fervently maintained, up until the wedding invitation went out, that you were running your own experiments illicitly in an unused lab.” 

Kirk burst into laughter. “You’re joking,” he said. “That’s outrageous! How did he even find my thesis?” Dr. Khan laughed with him, but her eyes flicked to Spock. 

Spock said, voice rumbling deep in his chest, “I recommended it to him.” 

Kirk twisted and leaned back to look up at Spock’s face. “You did not,” he said. 

“I did, captain,” Spock said solemnly. His cheeks were flushed, but his expression was earnest. “I read it when you were assigned to the Enterprise, but before you had come aboard. I was seeking information on what might be expected from your captaincy. It was unorthodox, but the methodology was sound and the conclusions were insightful. When Lieutenant…unnamed scientist proposed his research, I included it in my list of sources to consider.”

Something warm, bubbly, and unrelated to his champagne lit up in Kirk’s chest. He had loved science, had considered being on the blue-shirt track at the Academy before committing to command, and to have his science officer hand down such high praise, seemingly without thinking? He felt known. He felt seen. He felt, as Spock looked down warmly at him and Dr. Khan laughed at his expression, like someone had peeled away his masks and airs and hadn’t turned away at what lay beneath. That feeling remained for the rest of the night, as the mess cleared out, Uhura hugged them both and went to bed, and the last stragglers saluted and vanished. Then it was just him and Spock, as it always was at the end of the day. In companionable silence they retrieved abandoned glasses and Spock’s collection of chocolate-stained mugs and dumped them into the recycler, then wiped away the stains of celebration from the tables. 

Though Kirk was mostly steady on his feet, he didn’t argue when Spock walked too close to him, occasionally brushing his hand against Kirk’s elbow. The corridors were silent, with the rest of the crew either asleep, recreating, or on the delta shift, and their footsteps in sync echoed lightly against the walls. 

Spock did not pause at his own door when they reached their destination, and instead walked Kirk to his. “Do you require anything, captain?” 

“No, Spock, I’m fine.” Kirk said, and looked up at his first officer. The lights in the corridor twinkled off of Spock’s sleek, dark hair. He grasped Spock’s shoulder and squeezed. “I… I’m just so glad you’re not leaving. That you agreed to this.” 

“I am as well, captain,” Spock said. They stood like that for a moment, gazing at each other, until Kirk was overtaken by a jaw-splitting yawn. “Good night, Jim,” Spock said, and stepped back, breaking Kirk’s grip on him.

“Good night,” Kirk said, fighting off another yawn, and smiled at Spock’s retreating form until it vanished into his own room. He let himself into his quarters, brushed his teeth and got undressed half-asleep already, and collapsed into bed in minutes. The residual warmth of the party, of the crew’s overwhelmingly positive response, and of Spock’s arm wrapped around his waist carried him off to sleep. 

In his dream, he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror. The humidity from his shower still dampened his skin. Spock’s door opened and he stepped in.

“Ah, sorry, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, turning to him. “I’ll be done in a moment.” 

“There is no reason to rush, captain,” Spock said, and he walked further into the bathroom until his chest was pressed to Kirk’s back. He wrapped his long arms around Kirk’s waist from behind, clasping his hands at Kirk’s navel, and rested his cheek against the back of Kirk’s head. They stood entwined, rocking gently from side to side, until he heard an odd beeping coming from his room. 

“Do you hear that?” 

“Hear what, Jim?” Spock’s breath ghosted past the shell of his ear, and it gave him goosebumps. Kirk leaned back against Spock’s chest, dropping his head back onto Spock’s shoulder, and Spock lowered his head to Kirk’s neck---

Kirk’s eyes snapped open to the sound of his alarm blaring next to his ear and a sugar-induced headache from the night before. He slapped his alarm off and pressed his hands to his face, feeling his head pound with each heartbeat. He spilled himself out of bed, grabbed a rehydration pouch from his Bones-required personal first aid kit, tore the top off with his teeth, and dumped the contents into his mouth. As the headache receded and his higher-level cognitive abilities came back online, his dream came back to him in bits and pieces until he was remembering it so clearly that he could feel Spock’s hands against his stomach and his breath against his neck. 

“We are only pretending to be in a relationship,” Kirk told himself as he stripped out of his pajamas and headed into the bathroom to shower off the remnants of the dream. “It means nothing. It is just friendly. It means nothing.” He repeated it to himself as he washed his hair, brushed his teeth, and got ready for the day. By the time he had dressed in his uniform, buried the ache in his chest that his dream had caused, and met Spock outside his door, he was able to look Spock in the eye without reliving the caress of his breath against his neck. 

They walked to the mess together. By the time they sat down with Bones and Uhura he had put the dream in a box in his mind and sealed it away, and every time Spock touched him through their shift he smiled at his soon-to-be husband and reminded himself, This isn’t real. 

[ruebrosca]

Of Gold and Obsidian.

Chapter One: Little Dust Dreamer.

Alistair/Female Brosca

5.8K

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con (I will add if needed, please let me know.)

Summary:

Dwarva don’t dream. Least of all the casteless brands in Dust Town. There is no point in entertaining silly little fantasies when you don't know when your next meal is. All that matters is survival, dreams don't keep you warm and fed.

But Rue dreams, in her waking hours, of an easy life topside with her sister, Rica and Leske. Where they want for nothing and have full bellies. Above ground, there's no Carta, no Beraht and definitely no Kalah. Rue and her family would finally have a home that is warm and welcoming—a dream where she can be safe.

But alas, Dwarva don't dream.

Notes:

Hi this is my first ever fanfic. I wanted more stories of my favourite wardens Brosca and Alistair, so I have dipped my toes into writing. I should mention that I'm dyslexic and have dysgraphia so if there are mistakes, I apologise. Anyhoo here ya go!!!

Chapter 1: Little Dust Dreamer

Dwarva don’t dream. Least of all the casteless brands in Dust Town. There is no point in entertaining silly little fantasies when you don't know when your next meal is. All that matters is survival, dreams don't keep you warm and fed.

But Rue dreams, in her waking hours, of an easy life topside with her sister, Rica and Leske. Where they want for nothing and have full bellies. Above ground, there's no Carta, no Beraht and definitely no Kalah. Rue and her family would finally have a home that is warm and welcoming—a dream where she can be safe. 

But alas, Dwarva don't dream.

When she woke up to two voices in the room, she thought nothing of it and groaned as she rolled over, grasping at the last dregs of sleep, trying to ignore the conversation but it was proving difficult, particularly due to one of the voices speaking in a hushed whisper, and the other was as loud as the bell tolls.

“I can't keep gambling on you forever, Precious.” The voice boomed, emphasising the word previous in a way that made Rue feel uneasy. It was only when she realised that the blaring voice belonged to a man, Beraht, that she shot out of bed to find her sister. She would not abide Rica being left alone with him.

They were not far from the rock slab that she and Rica called a bed. From behind the cloth screen that they used for privacy, she could see Beraht standing too close for comfort and Rica, her eyes pleading for help. As the crime lord continued, Rue joined her sister's side. 

“You've got a sweet look, something to light a man on fire, but you gotta make it count.”

Rue could see the shiver of disgust roll off of Rica. By the ancestors, she despises this man with all of her being for everything He's done to her and for how he makes Rica feel. She often imagines cutting off his manhood. It helps to temper the anger she feels when she has to look at Him.

“Please Beraht, I don't want to do this in front of my sister.” Rica implored.

He chucked “Why not? She knows the slope of the land, don't you girl?” he said sleazily. Of course, Rue knows the troubles of noble hunters, but she doesn't want to hear of them from this bastard, especially about her little sister.

“Dinnae talk about my sister like that,” Rue said through gritted teeth. She wanted Him to leave, to stop this line of conversation. Well no, what she really wanted was to gut Him like a Nug and throw his body into the lava lake. Stones be damned. But she's a duster, lower than dirt and they don't get to want anything.

She knew what was coming when she answered back defiantly. She's got to give it to Him, he had a mean backhand, particularly with his gaudy rings on. The sound of his hand colliding with her cheek caused Rica to scream in surprise. The scoundrel then roughly grabbed Rue's face, demanding her to look him in the eyes. 

“Before me, you both were just another couple of dusters. Now look at you. Both of you can read, write, sing and play the strings.” He spat, forcibly turning her head to face Rica cowering in the corner. 

“Look at ye sister here. Braids down to her arse - Gold capped teeth. She can recite elf poetry and play the harp. Every man's dream.” He said with a smug tone. Rue finds Rica's eyes glancing between her and Beraht silently pleading for this ordeal to end. He turned her face back to his eye level, forcing Rue to slouch.  

“All she's gotta do is find a lord, squeeze out some kid who looks like Him and we're all living the easy life in the diamond quarter.” He drawled, finally letting go of her face. Blood rushed to the smack on her cheek. Rica rushed to her, grabbing her arm for support, and turning her head towards Rue's ear. “Please don't get involved, you know that never goes well.” she whispered with watery eyes.

Beraht continued on his rant, pointing his finger aggressively at Rue. “I'Il treat her however I like as long as you both eat off my plate. You keep your head down and say aye to any job I decide is low enough for scum like you, in return, I put out coin so she” he now gestured to Rica. “Can doll herself up and get a belly full of some nobleman's brats then you both will be free of your debts and I get to join the family and be called milord for the rest of the little prince's life.” he remarked with satisfaction. 

“I s’pose ye gotten a job for me then” Rue snarled. She was over this.

“Aye that I do. Rockface will tell you more about it.” Leske hates that nickname, so of course Beraht uses it exclusively for him.

“I just thought I’d check up on my investments and right now they don't bear much gold.” He scowled at the pair of them. “I'm giving you another week, precious if you haven't found a patron by then, you're back there sweeping streets.” he declared with a threatening tone. 

Rica then spoke cautiously “But I have. I've met someone that is. I didn't want to promise but he seemed interested.”

Beraht hummed displeased and started to make his way to the exit. He turned back at the boundary of the room “Get out of ye nightie. Your pal Leske’s waiting outside. He knows what I need from you today.” He stared angrily towards Rue. “Don't even think about bungling this job. Your whole family is on loose sand with me right now and I know you don't have anywhere else to turn, understand?” He sneered, finally leaving the Brosca's alone.

Watching him leave, Rue was distracted by her worried thoughts. How long was he in their room? What if he saw her drawings? What if he found the stash of sovereigns? Suddenly Rue was brought back to the real world as Rica pinched the space above her elbow.

“Ow! What was that for ye div?” she said, rubbing the back of her arm. 

“That’s for being a gobshite. He could’ve killed you!” Her sister exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air as if praying to the stones.

“Oh no, what a shame.” Rue jokes. Of course, she didn't mean it. If she died, who would protect Rica from men like Beraht? 

As if she was reading her mind, Rica replied with concern. “You don't mean that.” Fussing over the red mark left behind by the slap.

“No, I deh.” Rue said softly. Wanting to lighten the mood, she started to swat at Rica's hands. "Dinnae fash! Ye heard the man, I've gotta job to do. Cannae ye get me some scran while I get ready pleaseeee?” Pulling what she hoped was her best beggar face. 

“Och! Fine, get ready then.” Rica said, making her way to the main room. Rue went to relieve herself, but Rica still wanted to converse through the walls. “I'm sorry you had to see that.” 

Rue rolled her eyes and hollered back “It's alright. I just hate the way he treats you! treats us! Y'ken?”

“I ken.” Rica said sullenly, clambering around the hearth. “Just be careful around Him, You've been lucky so far.”

Rue finished her business with the chamber pot, pulling her threadbare nightie over her head and tossing it on the ‘clothes chair’ in the corner. 

Rica persisted from the other room. “He thinks you and Leske are funny.” 

Rue searched for her breeches, pulling out clothes that looked similar. 

“Y’ken some of the nobles I've met they’d sooner have your heid for speaking ye mind.” 

She found the breeches, sniffed them and deeming them good enough, she tugged them over her plush thighs. Moving on to the next article of clothing Rue spun around confused, scanning for her stays, they weren't where she left them. 

“Oi Red where are me stays.”  She shouted towards the doorway. 

Her sister answered back a little too quickly “I’m borrowing them, they're cleaner than mine.” 

“Yeah, but yours are too small for me.” She grabbed Rica's handmade stays, loosening the front laces and pulling the garment over her head. She scooped her tits into the correct position and started tightening the front. 

Rica then re-entered the shared room with a plate of only slightly mouldy bread and a cup of something steaming. “Well sorry, not all of us can be blessed by the ancestors like you are.” 

Rue nabbed the bread from the plate and scoffed. “Ha! More like cursed to back pain till the end of my days.” She paused, picking off the mouldy bits. She chucked a piece of bread into her mouth. “Now then, tell us more about this patron.” 

Rica signed longingly. “He’s sweet and easy to talk to. Plus, he treats me right. He'll be a good match if he's interested.” 

Rue took the cup of what she now knows is the two-day-old bone broth. She sipped before she responded. “Just be careful, even sweet men can hurt ye.” Rue knew all too well.

“Aye, I ken. It's just Beraht's been warning me ever since two of his other girls found patrons at lord harrowmont reception, they've been getting gifts already!” The red-headed said with a weary smile. Whilst Rica continued speaking, Rue placed the cup down and began to tame her dark curls into a low bun. “Lord Rustin gave Elsie a surface silk gown, and she's not even pregnant! Beraht's getting impatient.”

Rue signed, “I wish we didn't have to work for Him.”

Rica laughs. “I wish we could just go and walk the deep roads until we find a magical crystal kingdom and live happily until the stones embrace.” She spoke with a dejected tone, “But it's not happening.”

“Ye ken the other options, cleaning middens, begging, going to the surface.” Rica shuddered as if the surface could be worse than dust town. What Rue's read about it, it sounds like bloody paradise. Though anywhere sounds like paradise when compared to this horrific place.

“No, unless ye find a way to save us all from the darkspawn and become a Paragon, we’re pretty much on Beraht's leash for life.” Rica mumbled, picking at her nails nervously.

“No pressure then.” Rue remarked dryly, “Someone like me could ne’er actually be a Paragon.” She continued getting ready, pulling a dress over her head. It's rough and scratchy. 

Her sister lit up. “It wouldn't be the first time.” Rica loves the histories of paragons. “Gherlon the Blood-Risen was born casteless, you know, before he went to the surface. And he came back and won the throne!” She said with glee.

“Many Paragons have humble origins. All that matters is that the Assembly recognises their achievements.” She proclaimed with a hopeful smile. She proceeded while Rue was wrapping her weapons belt around her waist, cinching in the fabric. “And once they get that vote, they found their own house, and are as noble as if the ancestors themselves had made it so.” 

Rue signed “Imagine, founding our own house…” A girl could dream, right? 

“So, what are you standing around here for? Go do something great!” Rica teased in the way only a sister could be permitted to.

“Aye! That would certainly surprise Mam.” Rue chuckled. She didn't much care what Kalah thought. She felt nothing but resentment towards their mother. However, Rue couldn't deny the delight she'd feel if was able to shove an achievement like Paragon in the drunken's face. She made her way to where they kept their makeup and began putting on her kohl, preening into the small looking glass.

“Och, don't pay attention to her. She's just a bitter old drunk.” Rica replied. “Make something of yourself just to spite her.” the corners of her mouth rose into a tentative, warm smile. 

Rue mirrored her sister's expression “Maybe I will at that.”

Rica's smile grew. “Maybe ye will.” A sense of contentment washed over them as they revelled in this small moment.  

But the moment couldn't last forever. Rica let out an exasperated sign. “But until then, we can only serve as Beraht demands, and he won't like it if either of us is late.”

“Aye. I'm going.” Making her way to the door, She turned on the spot. “Have ye got ye knife?”

Rica grinned. “Yes! And if anything happens I'll meet you at the usual place. Now go!”

“Alright, alright. I'm going for real this time.” And with that Rue left their shared room, intent on leaving the home.

She didn't get far before being stopped in her tracks by her mam. With a bottle in hand, Kalah was slumped in a chair, close to the hearth.

“Whozzat? Why are ye bothering me? Rica?” She groaned, obviously just awoken from a drunken haze.

Rue spoke with a mocking deep tone “No. It's the king of Orzammar. I heard you were single.” 

“Don't ye sass me, ye ungrateful brat! I made ye and I can make another just like ye.” 

Rue rolled her eyes. “Hmm. Of course, Kalah. Whatever you say.” 

“Ye got ya head in the smoke. Ye Da was like that, too.” The older woman grumbled

“Well, at least he managed to get out of here.” Rue didn't often wonder what life would have been like if her da took her with Him to the surface. There was no purpose in hypotheticals. Plus she couldn't ever imagine life without her sister.

“Aye. Left me with a shrieking babe to feed, not a coin on the table.” Kalah contemplated the flames before she resumed with her tripe. “No, we're born with one coin to barter, and it's between your legs." Her lips drew back in a snarl. “So ye better show some sodding gratitude, or do I have to beat it outta you?”

Her jaw clenched, Rue spoke through gritted teeth “Lay one hand on me or Rica again, and I will kill you, ye ken.”

“It was for your own good. The world's a cruel place, Ye..” Kalah paused “Ye had to learn that” Rue crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother always tried to justify the abuse she enacted, as though it was her motherly responsibility.

“You think you'd be where you are now if I'd let you hide from a few slaps? Everything you are, I made ye!” She cursed.

Rue scoffed, “I've got work to do.” She advanced towards the front door. She threw a glance at her mother. “Do try to dry out by the time I get home.” She insisted with a fake smile. 

Opening the door with vigour then expected, Rue left for the slums, but not before hearing her Mam shrill “Hey, where are ye going? Why's she leaving? Don’t leave me.” Rica replied “Nevermind that Mother, why don't you just lie down?”

_________________________________

Dust Town is Orzammar's most impoverished quarter, home to the unwanted, the broken and those whose ancestors have forsaken them. These ruins of palaces of old are now a haven for crime and poverty. The streets are unclean with decades of filth covering the stone. The smell of smog is burning and the air is hot and heavy. This is where Rue and all those who are casteless reside. 

She finds Leske not far from her home, leaning on a broken pillar, his umber skin contrasts against sandstone. He smooths over his new boxer braids, killing time. His eyes light up once he notices movement from the house.

“About sodding time. I was starting to think I'd have to bust in and get eyeful of that spicy sister of yours.” He teased.

Rue signed exasperated.“Haven't I told ye never to talk about my sister that way?” 

“You're just jealous because you want the majesty of Leske for yoursen, ye shameless hussy.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “What do ye say?”

“Last I saw of ya ‘majesty’, the sceptre was a little...soft.” She retorted

He looked away with a sheepish expression, “I..kinda hoped you'd forgotten that..” 

Eager to get going, Leske remarked in a serious tone. “As much as I’d love to keep chatting, we'd better get down to business.” He gestures with his hand for her to lead the way to the checkpoint.

“Aww. Here I was hoping our mission was me making fun of ye.” Rue pouted

He smirked. “No such luck.”

“Boss says we're out for a search-and- discipline. One of his smugglers is holding out on him.” They strolled side by side, passing landmarks like decrepit shelters and vagabonds alike. 

“Name's Oskias. Some surfacer. Beraht got word that he's been selling shipments topside that never make it to Beraht's ears down here.” Leske motions with his hands. “He wants us to find the rotter and see what goods he's holding back.”

“He's stealing from Beraht? I like him already.” She chuckled.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Aye well, yours will be a short and tragic relationship.” 

“Any idea where this Oskias is?”

“All he told me is ‘Find him.’ Duster's got some family from the Merchant Caste. He's probably staying near their quarters.” He jutted his head towards the commons. 

Their conversation died down as they moved past the lone guard at the edge of dust town. It was clear where Dust Town ended and the rest of Orzammar began. The road turned from sandy tracks to polished cobblestones and fine dwarven craftsmanship was in abundance. The river of lava illuminates the commons area in a warm hue in addition to pleasantly heating the entire cavern.

Rue stopped near an alcove, Leske followed, She quickly surveyed her surroundings before speaking in a hushed tone.“I reckon we check Tapster's. Poor sod’s probably getting pished.”

“Aye. You ready to show him some pain?”

“I don't think we have to kill the bastard.”

“We’re not just killing him. First, we take back anything he stole and then we kill him.” He responded casually. “Come on. You can feel bad later.” He jogged to the tavern. 

She looked up, silently imploring to the ancestors,the stone and any other deities that may look upon her before following him. “Ugh! Fine. But let's at least find out what he's done.” 

He held the door open for her, shaking his head. “Whatever lets you sleep at night, my friend.” 

The tavern is bustling with life. The smell of old ale is pungent and there's a low drone of chatter that lulls to a stop once the dusters walk in before returning to the normal volume. Tapster’s doesn't permit castless but they've got a job to do.

The bartender gave them a quick glance, not stopping in at the task in hand, cleaning glasses. “No casteless.”

Rue hums. “Seems you've got an open-door policy on martyrs, though.”

“Who the dust are... oh.” He said with an annoyed tone before giving the pair a proper peek. “My mistake. I didn't realise you're one of his.” He stutters. “I - l'm not looking for any trouble.”

Rue on her charming mask, knocking on the bar, Leske behind her. “Don't worry Salroka, just tell me if you know where to find a sod named Oskias.”

“Is that what this is about?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “He's here all right.” He jerked his head towards a solitary man ruminating on his reflection in his mug. “Right over there. Been nursing that same mug half the day. Paid up front, though. Good silver. What 's he done?”

“Made Beraht unhappy. Bad idea for him.”

“l'l say. You, uh, you do what you have to.” He paused for a moment. “Just try and keep it neat please. I'm still paying for this space.”

Rue gave Him a thankful nod, pushing herself off of the bar. She waved Leske to Oskias’ table. He pulled out a chair for her and she gracefully plopped down, whilst Leske manoeuvred to the back of Oskias. 

Oskias looked up from his drink, disgruntled. He’s a little too tipsy to notice the movement behind Him. “Hey, I was saving that seat!” 

Leske peered over Oskias’ shoulder, grabbing the back of the chair “That's real thoughtful, Oskias.” pushing the chair in till the table was uncomfortably pressed into Oskias' stomach. “lt's tiring work looking for you.”

“H-how do you know my name? 

Rue retrieved her fan knife from her belt, flipping it to calm her nerves. It also caused Oskias to get visibly anxious, which would certainly help speed up this encounter. She was glad she remembered to put on kohl, she always thought it helped make her look more intimidating.

“Let's just say we've got a mutual friend” She spoke in a seedy tone.

“Oh, no, You're not from Beraht, are you? He's trembling now.

Rue grinned, touching the tip of her knife to her nose and pointing at Oskias with her free hand, making Leske snicker. 

“Got it in one, Salroka.”

He was panicking now, babbling incomplete thoughts “.Because that would be too much. l don't think I - I could handle--”

She shushed him. “Calm down. There's no reason we can't keep this civilised, yeah?”

“You mean you're not here to kill me?” He relaxes a little.

“Of course not!” She scoffed in a joking manner. “This is just a friendly inspection.”

“Just making sure you didn't accidentally pocket any processed lyrium, ye ken.” Leske yanked the chair back, surprising the occupant, making him yelp. 

“L-look I always been loyal to Beraht. He's been good to my family: I know how much I owe Him.”

She shot Leske a look, He responded with a shrug. 

“Search his bags.” She ordered.

“My pleasure.” Her partner in crime roughly grabbed the bag slung across Oskias' body.

“W-wait! I do have some lyrium. It's just ore. I-I made a side deal with one of the mining families.” He wheedled. Rue gestured with her knife for Him to continue speaking. 

“If it worked out, I was gonna bring Beraht his cut, I swear. I-l'd be crazy not to.”

“Suicidal, one might say.” Leske chimed in.

“How much ore did ye take?” She queried.

“Just a little. Maybe twenty-five sovereigns worth--”

Leske wore a stunned expression. “Twenty-five sovereigns?”

“Most of that's with my buyers on the surface. I just picked up a few nuggets down here.” He said casually, trying to make this mishap trivial. “If I were to.. maybe give you a piece, that's a lot of coin. Could you, uh, forget to mention this to Beraht?”

“I'm listening…”

“I-I don't got any coin myself, I make that topside. But you can take the ore, sell it, maybe get enough to get out of this nest? 

Now that was a plan, Rue contemplated. This payload, plus the stash she had would be enough to bribe a smuggler safe passage for her, Rica and Leske to go to the surface and make a proper living.

Oskias looked between the pair, unsettled by the quiet. “What do you say?”

“Give me all ye have, and I'll pretend ye weren't here.”

“All I have is the two nuggets, but they're yours if you let me out of here.”

This could work, she thought. One nugget for Beraht, one nugget to sell. Split the profits equally. Bing, bang, bosh and job's a gooden.

“Are ye breathing smoke? Beraht'll kill ye if he catches ye with his lyrium!” Leske alarmed.

“Och. Ye think I wouldn't share with me best friend?”

“Well, that's a whole other story, We'd need to sell it before we go back to Beraht. And to someone who won't turn to him.” He said with a conspiratorial smirk. 

“Tell you what--cut me in fifty and we'll take it to Olinda. Remember her? She likes me and refuses to work with the old man.”

Rue mirrored his smirk. “Deal.”

“Then what happens to me?” Oskias muttered in a nervous tone.

Rue fidgeted with her knife for a moment, pretending to contemplate his fate. She wasn't going to kill him, He hadn't hurt anyone, He just pissed off the wrong man. And stole from him but that was beside the point.

“Go up to the surface and never come back.” She threatened.

Making his way back to her side, Leske put Oskias' bags across his shoulder. “We'll have to tell Beraht he's dead. If he ever finds out…”

“He won't, I swear! You'll never see me in Orzammar again.” He got up quickly, putting his hands low as though he was taming a wild bronto. “Thank you! You're as kind as you are beautiful! May the ancestors bless your steps.” Rue snorted at that, she was letting him live, he didn't need to lie for his life anymore.

“Go on. Off with ya.” Rue watched him strided out hastily, almost stumbling over a stool. 

Leske touched her shoulder, a silent command for them to leave. They didn't speak again until they were in the commons, on their way to Olinda’s.

“We've got to trade this lyrium in quick and get back before Beraht starts wondering what we've been doing.” He looked around nervously “Un... unless you think we should give it all to Beraht.”

“We'll sell one and tell Beraht we found one on Oskias.”

“Yeah aye. He'd probably buy that. If he knew what Oskias was hoarding, he wouldn't have sent us to look, right?” He rationalised. “Unless he was testing us…”

“Dinnae fash. It'll all be reet. Just point me at this merchant.”

“Hmm. Then we'd better go find Olinda. She used to give me crusts off her week's-end loaf when I were wee bairn. She's got a soft spot for me.” He said with a fond smile.

Leske stopped for a moment “Was that smart, Rue? If Beraht finds out Oskias ran, he'll kill you, he'll kill me. He'll make you kill me then yourself. Then he'll probably stew us and serve us to the poor.”

She gave him a small smile. “Leske, I'm not gonna kill ya. And no one's gonna stew us. We'd taste terrible, too tough.”

Rue needed to calm him down a little before they made it back to Beraht lest he crack under the crime lord's stare.

“Plus it's too late for regrets now. Poor cunt’s halfway to the surface by now.”

“We should sell this quick and report back before Beraht starts wondering what's taking so long.”

Before long they found themselves near the market stall. The shopkeep recognised Leske instantly. 

“Leske! You old scamp, what're you doing here? Trying to charm me out of another set of ribbons for your girl?”

Rue smiles. She remembers the bright red ribbons. A gift for one of her name days. She cherishes them and loves braiding them into her dark unruly curls.

Leske leans on the stall “Trying to talk you into being my girl, Olinda. You know my heart's breaking for you.” 

“Don't you go saying that around my husband.” She blushed “Now then, who's your friend?”

“I'm Rue. Pleased to meet you.” Firmly grabbing Olinda’s forearm and shaking it. 

Pleased with her manners, the shopkeep grinned “You're welcome to look around. I’ll slide on the mark-up since you're Leske's friend, but I can't give anything away for free.”

“Actually, we've got some lyrium to sell you.” Rue nodded to Leske, taking the bag off and showing Olinda the contents.

“Well..that's not what I was expecting to hear cross those lips. Where exactly would someone like you pick up lyrium?” she asked with a curious tone.

Rue could understand why Leske was fond of Olinda. She has warm brown eyes that make you want to spill all your rotten secrets.

“Call it a gift.” 

She frowned “Hmm. I can guess who you might have got this gift from. Leske, you know I don't do his business.”

“This is just us, Shaper's honour.” He put a hand over his chest. “You won't get in with Beraht if you buy it.”

With a cautious expression she inquired. “How much do you have?”

“To sell? One nugget.” Rue replied.

“I can give you thirty silvers per nugget.” She was business-like now. A true merchant caste.

“Only thirty-” Leske sagged with disappointment. Olinda notices 

“It's less than it's worth, I won't lie to you, but the market for it's topside and that won't be easy for me to reach.”

Leske nodded along. “I'll have to find a buyer who won't ask where it came from. For that, I can't afford more than thirty.” 

“You got a deal, Salroka.” Rue agreed.

“All right, then. Let me take that off your hands.” The goods were exchanged and coin changed hands. Oskias' bag placed back across Leske's shoulder.

“And friends, you probably shouldn't come around here for a while... just in case.” she added wearily.  

And with that the dusters set off for Beraht’s shop.

_______________________________

The rogues could hear Beraht before they saw him. It was like the man didn't know how to speak quietly and considering the subject matter, it's a skill he should learn quickly.

They entered the shop, and stood in front of a desk, waiting for the conversation to end.

“The king is old. His rule won't hold much longer.” Beraht bellowed. 

Jarvia, the Carta's second-in-command, is positioned to the side of the desk. Which is just grand. The bitch despised Rue and the feeling was mutual. She just made every interaction insufferable.

“Prince Bhelen seems far more sympathetic to our interests than Trian.” Jarvia chimed in.

“Bhelen has some tastes of his own that he knows I can provide--” He said with a smug smile. He spared a glance to the audience.“We'll finish this later.” 

He scowled at the pair in front of Him. “It's about time you two showed up. What happened with Oskias?”

She answered plainly “He's guilty. Here's the goods.”

Leske put the bag gently on the desk, opening it for everyone to see. Beraht peered in.

“One lousy, nugget? You want me to believe that 's all he got off with?” 

Leske replied “He said he kept most of it topside. That was all he had on him.”

“Very interesting, seeing how my cousin was at the Tapsters earlier and he says he saw something change hands between you and Oskias.”  Beraht stood from his chair and rounded the table.

“And then the duster sodding stood up and walked out on his own two feet!”. He spat quite literally. Rue closed her eyes once the spit hit her cheek.

“Does that sound like what I asked?” He turned towards the other woman. “Jarvia, what does that sound like to you?”

Jarvia sneered, looking smug “Sounds like some jumped- up face-brands thought they could take a bribe and let him walk free. That's just not right.” 

The mobster turned back to the pair. “The lady says it's not right. You wouldn't disagree with a lady, would you?”

Rue gave jarvia a dirty look. “Depends on the lady.”

Beraht slammed his fist suddenly on the desk. “Do you really think right now is a time to get clever with me?”

“Oskias is dead. We just didnae do it in public.” Rue said curtly.

“Right. I mean, no one's gonna say spit to you, Beraht, but we cannae move that free. We needed to get Oskias somewhere private.” Leske intervened, trying to de-escalate the situation. “We took Him to the lava sinks behind the mines. You won't be seeing Him again.” speaking with his hands.

Beraht thought for a moment, hand caressing his beard. “Hmm. I don't like you making me look weak.. but it's smart to try to keep the Sword Castes from asking questions.” He was satisfied by their answer. Jarvia looked less convinced with their lie but said nothing.

“Now, I got another job for ya. Make some use of your... unique skills.” 

“Let me guess; We dinnae have a choice.” Rue retorted in a dry tone.

“You're catching on.” He responded in the same manner. “The Warrior Caste's hosting a Proving today--all the best fighters, last man standing--you know the sort of thing.” He leaned nonchalantly onto the table, as though the topic at hand was boring.

 “They're showing off for some Grey Warden who's looking for candidates to drag off to a life of eternal glory.” Waving his hand dismissively. 

“Now, it's not often we get every name fighter - in Orzammar lined up like that, and I have certain acquaintances who... take an interest in this sort of thing.”

Just grand, we're rigging a bloody proving. Rue reasoned. That won't bite us in the arse later.

“You're taking bets on the fighters.” She stated.

“There's a lot of coin to be made when people get the fever up. Favoured fighter's an officer named Mainar, veteran of four darkspawn campaigns.” 

He smiled a toothy, sly grin. “Everd's a long-shot. Just got back from a Deep Roads offensive. Some young buck who has all the ladies drooling.”

He stopped leaning and stood at his full height. He was attempting to make Himself some menacing, but Rue only got satisfaction that she was taller than the mobster. “l've got a lot of money riding on him, mine and other people's. I expect to see that eight-to-one pay off, understand?” 

“Aye. I do.” 

“The fight only gets announced to contestants themselves.. to prevent illegal gambling. So first, you'll have to find Everd, see who he's fighting, and when.”

“So how are we supposed to help Everd win?”

“When the name Mainar comes up, I want you to slip this drug into the bastard's water.” Beraht ordered.

Oh it gets better, Rue thinks. Not only were they gonna rig the fight, they were gonna do it by drugging a warrior caste. Fucking brilliant. 

Beraht nodded to Jarvia, who in turn pulled out a small vial of clear liquid. She handed it to Leske. Beraht continued with his instructions.“It'll slow his reflexes, Just enough to take the edge off, not enough to show. But it wears off quickly, so don't use it until just before his fight.”

“Alright. We'll go right now.” Eager to leave, Rue pocketed the vial into a small pouch on her belt.

“You bet you will. Here's your pass to get on the grounds.” She grabbed that too and folded it up. “Proving starts as soon as the clock strikes.” 

Beraht snatched Rue's arm tightly and spoke through gritted teeth. “And when I say I have coin on this, I'm not talking about some pittance, like the value of your life. if I don't see Everd's name on the winner's sheet, you'd better make sure I never see you, or your sister ever again.” 

Rue nodded, words failing her. She left quickly, joining Leske outside.

“Come on. Let's go rig a fight!” He said in an almost cheery tone.

Rue added dryly, “Yeah, I'm sure nothing cannae go wrong.”

This was gonna be a long day.

[zalrb]

Sorry for having a discussion through your inbox lol, I’m that anon. I meant her traits from the books, she doesn’t have a lot of characterization there, but she is loved by the smallfolk and loves to ride her dragon (according to Martin, it’s her greatest joy in life), which she has 'no taste for' in the show. For sure that’s more interesting than standing around in the castle rooms and throwing cryptic lines there and there (and we can’t get a badass queen riding her dragon, not even fighting with it but just because she enjoys it, that’s reserved for the correct team only). Now I’m not saying she has to be the same person she was in the source material, I actually think her being autistic and a dreamer were interesting additions, but she’s a passive shell of a character who doesn’t care about anything – not her family, not the war, not her children. Blood and Cheese in the books causes her to be so distraught she becomes incurably depressed, can’t even look at the child she 'picked' to die and she finally commits suicide over it. Here, she forgives Alicent in one episode and gets over it because 'lowborn mothers lose their babes all the time' (not many of them see them brutally murdered, but alas). And that’s the general problem with team Green, no one seems to have actual motivations – Otto fucks off to Oldtown after putting the succession war in motion because he didn’t like the hanging of the ratcatchers (imagine Tywin leaving for Casterly Rock after he realizes Joffrey may be kinda dumb), Alicent sentences her children to die (and even if you want to go with 'she sacrificed everything for her perceived duty and realizes it was all for nothing' angle, it’s not like she actively tries to fulfill it, she tells Aegon to piss off when he asks her how to be a better king, so it has no weight), Aegon is burned and disillusioned, Aemond is a caricature that’s hard to take seriously. Why am I supposed to care about this? At this point Rhaenyra may just take the throne from them, I’m not fond of her either, but like… what are the stakes here. Sorry about the constant ranting in your inbox Zal, I know you are not really invested in HOTD, but this show is so stupid and a waste of potential, and we’re pretty much on the same page when it comes to criticisms. The most it will achieve in a long run will be bringing back appreciation for D&D, because while they were shitheads who abandoned their own creation when they got bored of it, they gave us at least four seasons of high quality television and achieved something Condal&co could never do – actually developed these characters and relationships between them. Man, I just want another Succession if I am supposed to care about fucked up family dynamics.

No problem! Thanks for answering the other anon.

It's funny because everything is so passive and the motivations are so absent and muddled that I actually forget which side is which team? I read this like oh right, Alicent's camp is Team Green and Rhaenyra's is Team Black, sometimes I think it's the other way around.

But reading this, I get annoyed all over again because I'm like, the whole point is that this war has gotten so big, so out of hand, I mean it's a war, that there's no way to turn it around or scale it back, too much has happened, so even if Aegon is disillusioned, even if Alicent has regrets and realizes that rules mean nothing, even if Aemond is supposed to be whoever he's supposed to be, it doesn't matter because they can't stop now, they've gone too far and that COULD be interesting because we saw that in a way with GoT, where decisions just snowball until you're having an all-out war, Ned told Cersei he knew her secret so Cersei killed Robert now there's a grab for power - Joffrey killed Ned now there's a war with the Starks, shit is getting out of hand and we just do NOT have that here. And then for Rhaenyra, I just kept being like so what are you DOING and you pacing back and forth hand-wringing about not doing anything doesn't make you not doing anything better. Daemon and his "inner turmoil" about his place means nothing to me, does nothing for me especially since it just ends with him doing what he did in season 1 anyway which is pledge allegiance to her, who CARES?

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

So… how would YOU rewrite MHA?

Well, a lot of the things @doodlegirl1998 said are true and are what I would do if I did rewrite MHA, but as @anastasian-dreamer says I do think that the death of Midnight and Eri's stuff are good for the story. Midnight dying alone and off screen is a moment that can really emphasis with the audience that death is a common thing in this world for heroes, and while she gets remembered it becomes just another headline affect a week.

Of what I would change though is:

1) I would want Bakugou to be removed from heroics after the final exam. I would have a build-up that really emphasizes both 'big fish from the small pond moving to the ocean' and the emphasis on flashy quirks alongside discrimination. By this I mean I'd dig out my fav headcanon: Aizawa thinks Bakugou was a bully victim from his peers and his attitude is a reflection of it. Bakugou still gets a strike his first day for nearlya attacking Izuku but it's somewhat brushed off because at the time I think Aizawa has read a basic file on his students but doesn't know everything.

Which is actually something I would have be the norm rather then just Aizawa. The hero teachers all have a test the first day to actually get a feel for their students and to judge them if they're good for heroics. There's another tract at UA called 'Secondary Heroics' where students are put if A) they missed the cut off for heroics, B) they failed the entrance exam BUT have a useful Quirk or C) they were part of the heroics program and removed due to a lack of ability, reliance on their Quirk or a general attitude. Something like my Red Flag program. Aizawa doesn't expel the kids, he sends them to secondary heroics in order to shape up. However often times the kids don't make it out of secondary heroics because they end up washing out. It's never held against them because being a hero is HARD. You can move back to the heroics program if you prove yourself or if you place high in the sports festival compared to a hero student.

Izuku and Bakugou stay in regular heroics because Aizawa in this AU does think both deserve the regular hero course. He sees how Izuku figures it out and goes: Oh, bad teaching and again he thinks Bakugou probably just needs to learn he doesn't need to protect himself. Still, he gets a strike as a warning and because they can't have students hurting each other.

After this, Aizawa gets the full files and learns Izuku is a late bloomer. He still thinks Bakugou is a victim because it's full of teacher praises, so he goes: ah, his peers thought him villainous though. We get todl this, we get shown this. And then it slowly is torn apart for Aizawa as he sees signs that point towards bullying. As Bakugou shows it's all about him facing actual consequences he's upset about, not that his peers don't like him. Then, I would have the final exam. I think in this one, they would know better then to put him and Izuku together, so instead I'd switch Izuku and Todoroki. Bakugou fails his final exam after getting mad Todoroki wouldn't listen, assaulting him ala how he punched Izuku. Bakugou is removed from the program as this is his third strike AND he failed his exam. Meanwhile, the other students who failed got a note that they will take the exam again before the next semester after summer school. If they fail, they get moved to secondary heroics.

How is this discrimination showing? Mostly it's because of Aizawa's assumption and we would see evidence that this happens frequently.

2) As an addition to the above, I would have the class reject Bakugou after some time due to his attitude. I would have a few hold outs who assume the same as Aizawa but they would eventually reject him to. They would band around Izuku, and frankly lay out how awful Bakugou is and Izuku shouldn't keep trying to be his friend. So Izuku gets dragged away from Bakugou and slowly begins seeing what was wrong with how he was treated by society, with flashbacks. Which then leads me to Inko.

3) Give Inko her own character. She's just a plot device in canon, and I would love to explore her as a character to give us more. Right now, as a lot of people agree, she reads as a neglectful mother who never supported her son because we BARELY see her unless she's freaking out about something her son did. Either play into that or have her be different.

4) Endeavour and Dabi time. I said before that I prefer Endeavour's redemption to Bakugou's and I stick to it. But I would also kind of... hmm... okay so Endeavour is convinced he was in the right. However because he gets to be number one, he ends up going: Oh I didn't need to do that, so I'm sad now, you have to forgive me. I then want Shouto and Natsuo to go: No we don't. Fuyumi and Rei... I'll admit I like the idea of Fuyumi being very much: yes we do and we can be a family again!! I also though want this ideal broken for her and her to understand her brother's don't have to forgive their dad.

As for Rei, I said before that we don't know the full story with her and while Horikoshi is scrambling to make Endeavour less bad I do find that the idea Rei wasn't completely innocent is an interesting idea. Rei's pushing for more kids is something I would want to keep, tying it into their marriage and having her want Shouto to be like: hey so it worked, I didn't suffer this for nothing. I would also though have her be slightly neglectful of her elder kids. Not intentionally though. Her mental health is something I would also focus on. Staying years in a mental hospital isn't as far fetched as some think, and I would really have it be adressed. Which then has Shouto being confronted with how society messed up his family because his rosy view of his mother and her protecting him gets shattered by Natsuo. I want Shouto to have to face the fact there was a lot going on because in reality that's what abuse is like.

This would then tie into Dabi who I'd keep mostly the same. I want Dabi to know he's in the wrong and not care. I want him to want revenge KNOWING it's fucked up but wanting it anyway. Because I love just a complete dick and the idea of it being Dabi is fun because I want him to have a sympathetic past but be unsympathetic. I would then though also focus on the idea of him being a villain and I would show his victims so we're aware of it. His arson cases would be discussed from the first chapter as a 'hey so this guy is shady'.

5) which brings us to all the LOV. Give us reasons they're villains and show us their crimes. Show Toga stalking and killing, show Spinner being shunned and resorting to crime, give us them as criminals. I'm firmly no redemption if only because I think it's more interesting but I still want to see more. (Also Magne needs to live).

6) Overhaul should have been in the news and his drugs should have been known to be a thing. It builds him up and then we get a gut punch when we learn Eri is the one whom the drugs come from.

7) Iida and Uraraka needed more spotlight as Izuku's friends and I would have Todoroki stay a friendly rival to Izuku. Shiggy is his big rival though.

And... that's what I would do that's different i guess.