#they can bond over feeling older than they are/displaced from time (because part of each of their existences is fundamentally Ancient)

[thecorvidrotation]

I'm reading Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising Sequence for the first time in my life (I was aware of it as a kid but never got around to trying it, probably for the best bc tween me would have made it her entire personality in the WORST way), and now that i'm most of the way thru the series (book 4 of 5), ALL I want. is for Will Stanton and Gansey to somehow end up in the same room.

[ryttu3k]

Thoughts on tiefling!Astarion, inspired by this art by @poofroom , this art by @nebelimlim , and the knowledge that he actually was a tiefling in concept stages. CW for canon-typical mentions of Astarion's backstory, plus discrimination.

I imagine him still being a former magistrate, upper city snobby type. Tiefling Astarion, I think, would have had to fight like hell to be respected, potentially to the point of using more underhanded techniques. He wouldn't have the inherent high elf snobbery, but has a much more… at the risk of using a kind of classist phrase, but a much more 'new money' attitude, up until he's turned. He's looked down upon by so many just by virtue of his origins that he's holding on to whatever power and status he can get with his teeth; he may well have set aside any more humble origins in favour of climbing the ladder to success. It's fine! He's not like those other tieflings, he's a magistrate, he's upper city now, he can fit in fine!

Maybe he was turned a bit younger than 39, maybe mid-20s - still an adult, yes, but also still a fairly young one by the standards of his people. Either way, he is turned, and spends nearly two hundred years going through pure shit at Cazador's hand; if Cazador remains a high elf, and Aurelia remains a tiefling as well, there's another layer of power issues in there, potentially a closer bond to his older sister (or, alternatively, a stronger sense of competition, the need to be the 'better' sibling), and potentially an element of fetishisation as 'the other'.

By the time he gets captured and tadpoled, he's got this iron-clad mask in place - a flirty, confident upper-class noble, but now with a sense that he's worked hard for everything he's got instead of just that typically high elven entitlement. Look at all he's done! Imagine what else he could do for the group! He'd have a bit of a rude shock meeting the Elturian tieflings - they're desperate, he wants to put them aside, he's nothing like them, they reinforce a lot of his, "This is why people look down on us" attitude - but at the same time, these are his people, and the first time he's really spent any amount of time with other tieflings. He might actually find some common ground with them, especially the clearly ambitious Rolan, and I can see him developing a genuine soft spot for the thieflings, teaching them new sleight-of-hand tricks and encouraging them to rob anyone they see blind.

(Tiefling!Astarion holding up Mol: "Is anyone going to adopt this child, or should I go ahead?")

Still, overall, there's some resentment that the only other tieflings he meets are desperate refugees. That is not the image he wants to project. That is not an image that will keep him safe and protected. Helping the refugees means being inevitably lumped in with them, and he wants to be seen as better than that. He wants to belong to the upper class he pretends to be a part of, not… them.

Karlach would be fascinating, too. She's a heroic figure to a lot of the Elturians, who had actually witnessed her fighting firsthand in Avernus. To Astarion, she's brash, crude, and loud - and worse still, good-natured. Ugh, how annoying! And then because it's scientifically impossible to dislike Karlach, and because she gets protective over people but that includes him too and that's… quite nice, actually, and because her good-naturedness and kindness is balanced with an absolute willingness to hit things with a battle axe bigger than he is, he just… ends up bonding with her. Two tieflings, displaced from anywhere they've called home for the past ten years / two centuries, either physically (in Karlach's case) or emotionally (Astarion feeling distanced from other tieflings by dint of climbing the ladder of success and in the process alienating his community, and from his mortal life by dint of being a spawn), starting to find a sense of home and connection with each other.

Another potential plus side where my hellspawn tendencies start to show - tieflings have innate fire resistence. It might not be enough for him to actually seduce her, forcing him, like in canon, to actually get to know her and develop more of a relationship first before any intimacy ends up on the table at all, but - it might be enough for a hug I think both of them desperately need. Just casual, non-sexual contact, linking their tails together as they walk side by side, little brushes of hands. Just this brash outer city punk who became a conscripted warrior in the Hells, and this nu-upper-city snob who became a vampire spawn, slowly working out what freedom looks like with each other.

For Astarion's main storyline, the temptation to Ascend, I think, would be even stronger. People look down on tieflings? Well, they're not looking down on him now, are they? If Aurelia and Astarion both have infernal scars, they could potentially read them to each other; Astarion may even start the game knowing it's a contract of some kind, even if he doesn't know the details. The drive to learn what exactly he's scarred with would be even stronger, even if dealing with a devil as a 'devilspawn' is a lot more fraught than dealing with a devil as a high elf (especially given that the deal is with Mephistopheles - imagine if he was a Mephistopheles tief? Same sort of power issues that Karlach deals with, being a Zariel tief). He would see Ascending as more than just overpowering his abuser - he would see it almost as his birthright. And that's a hell of a thing to try to turn down…

Also, there's some possibly fascinating interactions with Gortash, who's gone from 'child of a pair of cobblers' to 'devil's slave' to 'Archduke and architect of the Absolute plot'. Gortash personally betrayed Karlach - would Astarion be more tempted to ally with Gortash, given that Gortash may be an aspirational figure with how he's gained power from nothing? Or would any relationship with Karlach put the kibosh on that permanently? Lots of fascinating options!

[hollyhomburg]

When in vikingverse are they gonna do some actual vikingesque shit?? I wanna see the mc wield a fucking axe and go apeshit

they've been doing Viking shit! more just like? Werewolf shit you know though too? like please always imagine Hoseok with an Axe always tucked into his belt. it’s more of a like- werewolf au with a Viking aesthetic you know? 

(i may be contradicting myself from earlier parts but i kinda wanna give you some background to their pasts) I think that Namjoon is like- Hella Non-Violent when he doesn't have to be- and is mostly peaceful. I think before in the past- his parents were more of the typical raiders/mariners and explorers that are expected of Vikings. 

But after they died he and Seokjin and Yoongi (the only ones that were in namjoon’s pack at that point). Namjoon suddenly found himself with a lot of people depending on him and swallowed by grief. And also- consumed by a need for change and a growing hate for war that he’d always had (maybe some lingering memories from his empire au that makes him hate it- but its nothing if namjoon ever told anyone about the visions he has- they’d probably think he was crazy.)

“What if we changed? what if we traded and stopped raiding? I don’t- I don’t want to go to war again” and both of them agreed that namjoon could do all that he wanted to. And now I think namjoon doesn't go war unless he needs to. his people aren’t farmers and makers- but he wants them to be- yoongi is one of the very few healers (he’s the adopted son of the last healer their pack had) and their numbers are only growing. He’s just a gangly 18-year-old pack alpha who could possibly make a lot of mistakes- and that's not to say he doesn't but he gets a lot more right than he gets wrong. 

one of the first things he does is open up their walls for those who might be Packless and those omegas who don’t want to be owned by alphas. he makes a few enemies in that first year. packs that want their omegas back. but on namjoon’s pack grounds, his word is law and if he says any omega that sets foot on his land is a free omega- then that omega is free and they can do little beside declare war to go against him. 

Jimin is actually one of the causes of it. Early on, Yoongi goes on a trip to see how another pack worked, and trade with them. To trade some of their weapons and their money for some seeds and farming tools. He found them in the middle of an auction. He’d heard of places where omegas were sold off to the highest bidder when they reached of age but it’s another thing to see it. Jimin bound up by his wrists in the center of the town square. He makes eye contact with him- and something just- clicks, feels right. 

Yoongi buys him without thinking and copes with the sudden loss of money. the majority of what was meant for him to buy enough farming supplies for the whole compound. All of that- gone because of a beautiful omega, who looks at Yoongi confused- because what could a beta want with him?

He takes Jimin home to namjoon and Seokjin, he’s a cagey little thing who was just about to get on his knees and present for namjoon when he first saw him. but- it only takes a few weeks for Jimin's true personality to shine thought ones he saw that he didn’t have to be afraid anymore.  

It’s about 3 weeks after Jimin comes to stay with them that they get word of a nearby pack- small- but known for their farming practices- suddenly displaced because of a flood. With no place to go and many of their members lost and presumed dead. Namjoon is only too happy to take them in, it’s not entirely out of the goodness of his heart- no- Namjoon wants to learn from them.  

That’s how the rest of them meet, Yoongi Helping care for their sick, the little alpha and beta that won’t leave this one alphas side. Hoseok is his name. He always smiles at Yoongi, always acts happy and never shows his pain to Jungkook or Taehyung. Even though he can’t move with his broken arm and a broken leg. apparently, Jungkook dragged him out of a collapsed house seconds before it was swept away. 

Taehyung does enough talking for the three of them. Jungkook looking wan and thin and banged up from the long days of travel. Unwilling to talk with anyone but Hoseok and Taehyung. The two will barely leave his side or each others. yoongi feels incredibly fond of these too- promises to Hoseok that he’ll make sure they’re cared for. That Jungkook gets those bruises looked at. 

Taehyung talks a lot- and it’s nervous chatter that brings it to Yoongi’s attention. Taehyung knows a lot about growing food- growing wheat. He passes the information along to Seokjin and namjoon- and quickly those three starts to spend a lot of time together to try to get plots of land producing food as planting season readily approaches, with so many sick and injured mouths to feed. 

Jungkook goes with him too- when they’re not together. Jimin and them have a peculiar bond too- it bothers yoongi and Seokjin how much jimin fusses. “well if I’m ever going to find an alpha- you gotta get close with their betas right?” it makes yoongi a little taken aback because- he’d thought Jimin had been aware of the fact that the little gestures- the clothes and little gifts- those where courting gifts. 

They’d assumed Jimin was aware of this because he always sits in namjoon’s lap at dinner times- Yoongi’s too- does so with a nod from Seokjin, and the older omega will run his fingers through Jimin’s hair and make a happy noise when they all get to sit about- laze around and cuddle the way packs do. “don’t all omegas cuddle up to their pack alpha?” 

There might be a little bit of a fight over Jimin- but then by that time- all of them are so deeply entrenched in their lives and falling in love- that it dosent matter- Hoseok admires namjoon so much, becomes one of the main hunters of their pack. Namjoon can admire him for how good of a job he does at providing for Taehyung and Jungkook. Being an alpha comes a little more naturally to Hoseok than it does to namjoon. Namjoon had barely had anyone to teach him how to lead his pack- and hed been doing it on pure instinct. 

But Hoseok had been best friends with the son of their old pack alpha- had learned more from the outside. Their old pack alpha had died trying to save his son from the flood- his son- Jungkook. Who already had a commanding scent for someone so young- but never acted brash or imposing or threw his weight around. Hoseok teaches Namjoon a lot about how their pack used to work- and because of that Jungkook shadows Namjoon a lot.

It helps the 70 or so members of their pack feel like they have a say in the goings-on when they see the three of them sitting up at the head of the table. They bond over their grief. Once he learns that Namjoon had also lost his parents suddenly- he starts hovering a lot more. 

for Hoseok, It’s easy to yield to a man like him and wear his mating mark, his hand on Namjoons forearm, the hands that took them in when they needed a place to say. Taehyung shakes when he feels the bond-slip into place along with Namjoon’s teeth. I think Jungkook gets marked by Namjoon on his 18th birthday and it like- solidifies their pack for good. They’ve been together for 5 years by the time the reader arrives. Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok have been at the compound for 6 years, and Jimin has been there for a little under 7. 

So yeah- Viking things but also! namjoon wants to be a little more peaceful!

[theblindgoddess]

so

heres the story i mentiond yesterday

i reposted that post with it

but its not showing up in the tags

so we’re trying this instead

prepare yourselfs.

angst ahead

and feels

and a bit of confusion because it is the end of the story.

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The real world came back into focus as Dewey rejected the fantasy he had been trapped in and was faced with the howling winds and screams circling in the underground headquarters he had called home for the past few months, the howling winds and screams that he had caused in his anger and sorrow, too consumed by his own feelings to realize that his family and friends were also hurting, to upset to think about the future, only worrying about how he would never forgive Scrooge, how he would make him pay, to see that by doing so he would only make things worse.

Dewey looked around at his family, all clinging to something, anything to keep from being blown away by the tempest that he had made and into the nearby walls. His eyes darted from Webby, Mrs B, Huey and Louie, Uncle Scrooge, and Launchpad, never resting on any one person for more than a millisecond, skipping from face to face, barely even taking them as they all blurred together with the speed and the wind and the tears, and then his eyes stopped on Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald who had raised him, and cared for him, and loved him, and who had always been there for him, and there he was, blood dripping from his forehead, down his face, matting his feathers along with sweat and dirt and tears of his own.

“Uncle Donald!” Dewey cried out, voice cracking and wet and shaking with fear as tears streamed from his eyes getting blown away by the wind to quickly to wet his face.

The sailor snapped his eyes open despite the wind to look at his nephew, wanting desperately to make it better for him, to make it all go away, to hold him close and say that it will all be alright. But he can’t.

“I’m scared!” pure, unbridled terror filled the duckling’s voice, consuming the senses of everyone in earshot.

“That’s ok!” The older duck shouted back, hoping that his voice would carry in the storm, “It’s ok to be scared, it’s ok to not know, that’s how you know you are human!”

“I don’t, I don’t wanna go! I don’t wanna die!”

There it was. What everyone there knew but no one wanted to say. Dewey would die. There was no way around it. While his body would still be intact, his mind would be gone. All his memories, all his experience, all his fears and hope, his annoying quirks, his personality would be gone. Swept away in the wind with Magica, and no way to bring it back.

The blue duckling’s features were filled with determination, mingling with the terror already there. “But this is my mess, “ he looked down to the Talisman of Blodig Erik, tightening his grip on it, when only moments ago the urge to throw it as far away from him as he possibly could was overwhelming him, “and I’m gonna clean it up! Because we all make choices! And some of those are bad ones! And choices come with consequences! But we can’t just run away from them! Part of life is learning to live with those consequences,” Dewey’s gaze turned abruptly to his Uncle Scrooge, meeting his eyes, “and part of it is learning to forgive others for the consequences they bring!”

He widened his view to encompass all of his loved ones, to see them for the last time, wishing that the missing members of their odd little family were still there.

“I love you all! And I’m truly sorry for all the pain I brought! I hope you can forgive me! And please, “ his eyes pleaded with all them, asking for something he knew would be impossible, “don’t blame the new Dewey for the mistakes that I’ve made!”

Dewey looked to the talisman, and willed it to clear his mind.

He was so focused on the talisman that he didn’t at first when he was joined in the eye of the storm by someone new, someone he thought had died earlier in the battle.

“Hold tight Bluey!”

“Lena?!” despite logic screaming at him to the contrary, before him, holding his had with the talisman, was Lena. “But, how?!”

“Magica displaced me out of time!” she yelled, “But she forgot something! She displaced me with my amulet!” she pulled the mentioned object out of her shirt with her other hand, “If you know the right spells, it’s really easy to replace your self! And I’m not gonna let you do this part alone!”

“And how are you gonna do that?” Magica’s voice jeered out of nowhere, loudest in Dewey’s head where the link lived, beating and fighting against the attack against its existence. “He doesn’t even have the strength to do it, how can you help him?”

“The talisman’s powers have a loophole!”

Dewey’s eyes widened as he realized what Lena was talking about.

“The Debtors Share! But Lena, you can’t”

“You’re my best friend, idiot!” She shouted back, hot tears just starting to spill out of her eyes. “I’m not letting you get hurt!”

“It’ll destroy you!”

“And it’ll leave you an empty shell! You were the first person  to actually care about me and give me the time of day, I’m not going to lose you!”

“Lena, please!” Dewey’s voice was sore from he yelling and crying, and filled with a desperate sorrow, “Just leave me be! Let me deal with the consequences of my actions!”

“My purpose in life since the day I was born was to destroy!” Despair. That is what was in Lena’s voice at that moment, what consumed her voice, what was her voice. “All day, every day! Destroy this, break that, bring vengeance upon McDuck! I have done nothing good in all of my years of existence! I don’t care if I’ll be destroyed, let me help you! Let me do this one good thing in my life! Let me die knowing I saved someone’s life, instead of live for years knowing I let my best friend die without trying to do something! Please Dewey! Let me save your life!”

“Oh, pa-leease!” Magica once again inserted herself where she did not belong, “do you actually think this will work? Erasing the bond inside of your head? IT’S MAGIC! It doesn’t work like that.”

She was ignored though, wholly and foundedly ignored. The young ducklings looked into each other’s eyes, conveying everything and nothing in a single, sorrowful look as saltwater rain filled the air.

“Alright.”

It was barely a whisper, hardly even a noise, yet in the screams and destruction around them, in the eye of the storm, in the little bubble of a world that they three were in, it was the loudest sound of all.

“Save my life.”

“What?!” Magica’s voice was surprised, worried even. She hadn’t expected that, hadn’t wanted that. That’s not what was supposed to happen!

Lena and Dewey kept ignoring her though, as they put their very souls into purging her from this world, into freeing Dewey of the devils deal he had made in a fit of rage.

“Oh come ooon! That’s not how this works!” Magica protested, trying to gain their attention, “you can’t just break a magical bargain like that! You have to uphold your end of the deal, dumb-dumbs!” that wasn’t true though, she was just stalling, trying to get as much time as possible so that she might regain the strength to take over Dewey’s body and mind once more.

“You can’t do that!” she screeched.

A faint glow emitted from the kids’ joint hands.

“Stop it!” she howled.

A light was also born around their heads, like twin halos, growing into radiance.

“NO!” she wailed in despair.

The magic of the talisman soon engulfed the ducklings, illuminating their sad smiling faces and wiping away their tears.

“NO!”

The rest of the world was gone, it was just them, the talisman, and the white that had replaced the world, even Magica was fading.

“NOOOOOO!” The last crys of the witch echoed through the white as the friends opened their eyes to look at each other for the last time.

“Thank you, “ Lena spoke, even as the whiteness began to claim her, “for being my best friend.”

And Dewey watched as the person who had dared to get to know him even as everyone else labelled him a loser, the person who had sat up late at night and answered his phone calls to listen as he rambled about the fears and insecurities he dare not tell his brothers or Uncle, the best friend he ever had dissipated into blue as the whiteness grew brighter.

And Dewey knew no more.

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thoughts?????

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt.15/finale

Summary: Life moves on and for Ethan and Y/N it has ups and downs, but they brave each storm together.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, talk of depression 

Word Count: 2000

A/N - best to read while listening to Next to me - Imagine Dragons

Hurt - Masterlist

Tiny fingers curl around Y/N’s pinky. She watches the baby peer through brand new eyes at what must be such a strange world after life inside the womb. Her legs kick in a tiny jagged motion, looking for that resistance they are used to, but finding nothing but air. Y/N wonders if that's unsettling or a relief. It must have been pretty cramped in there with her brothers. When she stretches, her hands barely rise above her head and she can’t help but think of how lucky she is to have this feeling of absolute exhaustion wash over her. She considers herself lucky because after going into labor a month prematurely and without her cervix dilating, her babies nearly died more than once that night.

‘’I’m sorry, but this is for a C section.” Doctor Sonia decided, tired of waiting and risking the babies suffocating inside. Y/N’s contractions were perfectly well-timed, but her cervix was no more than three centimeters dilated and the medication doctor Sonia gave had no effect.

Sweat rolling down her forehead, her heart struggling to beat, Y/N released a shaky breath as her hand squeezed Ethan’s tighter. He was just as terrified as she is, but he didn’t let it show. He was brave for both of them in that moment when he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple before nodding.

“Do it. Whatever is necessary to save them all – babies and Y/N.”

“Ethan?” She whispered as if the words she’s about to say are scandalous.

“I love you.” Hearing those words again, for the first time since what it felt like forever, Ethan knew everything would work out eventually. They meant so much more after waiting so long to hear her say it - not out of habit or because she thought she had to, but because she felt it, because she meant it.

“I love you too. Infinity times infinity.”

The night turned into a blur and what was meant to be a happy occasion turned very gloomy when only two of the babies cried. Twins, separated in a completely different amniotic sac, boys at that. But the baby girl who spent her eight months alone, that was much smaller than her brothers, she wasn’t breathing.

“Why isn’t she crying?!” Y/N croaked in a panic that constricted her chest, her eyes settling on the small, blueish baby instead of the twins who were pressed up against her chest, both wailing for being brought out into this world a month too soon. Well, they’re Ethan’s kids, they’d still wail even if they were overdue, simply because they wanted to sleep in.

“Take her to the NICU!” Y/N didn’t know much about medicine, but she knew what that meant from being around Edward so much. A part of her wished he was there as well. She trusted him with her babies, she trusted he’d do whatever it takes to save them. He’d tell her what is happening instead of leaving her in the dark, because that was scarier than hearing the bad news. Not knowing is always more terrifying than hearing what’s happened.

Before she had a chance to react, her twins were taken too and all she had to cling to is Ethan’s hand as they cried together, not knowing what will happen next.

The boys spent a week in the NICU too, but they were allowed to be held and fed by Y/N. Her baby girl was a different story – a full month in the NICU and all she could do is touch her hand through the incubator. She had so many tubes coming in and out of her body that Y/N would cry her heart out whenever she had to leave. It was damaging for a mother to watch her infant daughter struggle alone while she couldn’t do anything to help.

Little did she know her little girl had a guardian angel who had loved her mother and by extension, he loved her too. Edward spent every waking moment making sure that baby survived, never once interfering when Y/N or Ethan were around. He respected her choice and wishes, even if they hurt him, tore him apart. He didn’t resent her for it, but Edward hoped that one day she’d change her mind. However, he was pretty sure that would never happen, especially when he saw her when she was taking the twins home with Ethan. They looked happy and while it made his heart bleed, Edward swore he’d be happy for her and make sure that smile grows wider when she takes her daughter home too.

“I’m so happy you’re home now, but I think your brothers are already jealous of the attention I’ve been giving you. Your father is just as crazy about you too. His little princess, he calls you.” Y/N smiled as little Rose opened her tiny mouth to yawn, smacking her lips a few times before continuing her slumber as if she knew her mother was near, watching over her.

Satisfied she managed to put all three babies to sleep with a little help from Ethan who changed their diapers while she fed them, Y/N slowly moved to the bedroom. She was exhausted, barely keeping her eyes open, especially knowing that in two hours the cycle would start again. The worst part? It was only five in the afternoon and it was just an hour since Ethan got home from work.

While it wasn’t full hours spent in the office and he definitely cut all traveling for some time, Y/N still didn’t feel it was right for him to go back to the company so soon. The Hollywood scene could survive without him a while longer, she couldn’t. 

A little piece of information – his secretary is now a very married man and not a hot ex-girlfriend. Regardless, the two have been going strong - turns out, communication really is the key. No matter how bad things get, being open with each other had helped them settle back into a life they were used to, except it was better somehow, richer with laughter and pure adoration.

In the end, it turns out we’re all addicts struggling with our very own drugs of choice and as much as Ethan was hers, she was his as well.

Just a step inside her bedroom, she found Ethan on the bed, lying on his stomach as he stared blankly in the distance. With one look at him, Y/N knew it was one of the bad days that have taken his mind hostage. Most days, Ethan was perfectly fine, but he still had moments when he’d drift off and he stopped hiding them from Y/N because she understood it wasn’t her fault he would suddenly become uninterested in conversations or the movie she wanted to watch.

Dragging her feet, she sat on the bed, attracting his attention. She didn’t touch him, nor did she try to push him into talking because he never wanted to talk much, usually using grunts and humming to reply to her.

“Is this a ‘I don’t want to talk or be touched’ mood or is it a ‘hold me till it gets better’ mood?” She asked quietly, considering his feeling and needs in these moments when he’s at a low. When he hummed on the second one, she smiled kindly before getting into bed. Mingling her left arm under the pillow to support his neck, she let her left hand wander the short hairs at the back of his neck. Her right arm rests on his ribs, her right hand rubbing his back soothingly. Her face is hidden in his chest, her head reaching just below his chin and he leans down to rest his lips atop her head. He didn’t care about her hair getting into his nose or about the fact she smelled like a mixture of baby powder and expired milk, he just wanted her close. 

She whispered to him: “It’s okay, love. I’m here. I’m always here”, and despite feeling heavy, Ethan felt a smile tugging at his lips. 

It took two years for him to get off antidepressants, but his monthly therapy sessions continued.

“How do you know? Huh? What if I lose myself again? What if I fuck up our lives again?” Ethan was scared, Y/N knew that. He’s be prolonging his medication therapy for months now, despite knowing he doesn’t need them anymore. She knew he used them as a crutch of sorts, but the negative effects weren’t worth it. 

“Because I won’t let you get lost again. I’m here and I’m a lot better at seeing the signs and we’ll keep our truth or not policy. You have me. You have the kids. Those pills you’re so worried to let go of? They’re holding you back, but I promise to keep you afloat if you let go. I’ll be your parachute if you start to fall.”

Ethan’s bottom lip quivered as he put a hand at the back of her neck, leaning down to press his lips against hers, drawing his strength from her love. She was right, he knew that. After all this time, he believed she’d be there to catch him if he needs it. He could trust her.

** About four years after the birth **

“Holy shit, Danny isn’t here.” Ethan slapped a hand over his mouth, counting all the kids again. Grayson’s Katie and October were both there, but so was his newborn Chloe who was soundly asleep in her carry-on. His Rose and Shawn were both by his side, holding his pinkies for attendance report.

“Okay, this is it.” Grayson and Ethan crouched down to their kid’s level, knowing it’s happening.

“We’ve all practiced this before. Operation ‘Mommy can never know’ can commence.”

Half out of their mind, Grayson and Ethan had been speeding through the store, each with a kid on the arm. The older ones ventured around, calling out for Daniel in hopes of finding their missing brother. No one in that family considered themselves as cousins. In their minds, they were all brothers and sisters, as bonded as any family can be.

“I’m telling you, he’ll be in the freezers!” Ethan insisted, knowing his devilish little boy’s knack for finding ice cream anywhere they go. After all, it was his fault Daniel had wandered off. To let go of his hand in a store was always suicide. If Y/N and Clara truly knew how many times he and Grayson displaced their children and how long the ‘Mommy can never know’ had been running, they’d be dead by now.

“Danny?!” Ethan’s shrill scream startled the adventurous foodie, turning to his father with a small chuckle and a bucket of ice cream in his hands.

“Grayson, gather the agents!” Ethan send Grayson to get the rest of the kids, turning to his spitting image of a son who had a personality of someone who would give his dad a heart attack before he turns forty.

“Mamma can neva know?” Danny asked in his tiny little voice that made Ethan both melt and want to pull his own hair out.

“Yeah, bud. Mommy can never know.”

However, the moment boys walked into the house, Rose and Katie walked right up to Y/N and revealed themselves to be double agents.

“Mommy, mommy! Daddy lost Danny! AGAIN!”

In a split moment it took Y/N to turn around and face her husband and brother in law, their lives flashed before their eyes.

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Tags: @melodiesforari​ @brittttneyyyy​ @beautorigin​  @dolandolll​ @xalayx​ @godlydolans​ @heyits-claire​ @peacedolantwins​ @dolanstwintuesday​ @accalialionheart​ @ethanhes​ @lanadeldolans​ @ebbach-03​ @dolangels​  @xxaamzxx​ @cutestdolans​ @yaren-ates​ @dolansmith​ @vintagebitttch​ @primadolangirl​ @caqsicle​ @jjustjoy​ @justordinaryjen​ @graydolan12​ @imaginashawnns​ @graysonslovie​ @fandomsfeministsandothershit​ @bdsmdolan​ @graysavant​ @ethanspillow​ @dopedoodes​ @anything-dolan​  @sugarfootdolan​ @joyrivh​ @reblogserpent​ @luvdols​​ @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​​ @adventureswithmell

[linskywords]

Wolfverse Advent: Day 24

[Note: I decided to write a brief snippet for each couple so far for Christmas Eve, and they somehow (ha ha ha) got long. After the cut!]

December 24, 2019

Coralie wants to stay up and watch for Santa. “But Gabi told me she did it when she was little!” she says when Jamie tries to get her to go to bed.

“Gabi also told you she was way older than you when she did it,” Jamie says. Actually what Gabi said was that she was so sorry she’d said anything, but that part was only to him and Tyler.

Coralie puts her lower lip out. “But I want to see Santa.”

“Santa only comes to good little kids who are asleep in their beds, remember?” Jamie says. “Come on, baby Theo was in bed half an hour ago. You don’t want him to be the only one who gets toys, do you?”

Coralie pouts for another minute. “Fine,” she says finally. “But I want to go on the airplane again.”

The airplane is Tyler, who’s lying on the rug next to the Christmas tree, giving the kids airplane rides on his feet. He has Anna up in the air now, his hands on hers and his feet holding up his belly while she shrieks in delight. Tyler sees Jamie looking and zooms her to the ground. “Oh no, everyone, the airplane’s crashing!” he says.

“No, you’re not!” Peter says.

“Totally crashed,” Tyler says, sprawling out bonelessly on the rug. “Look, everything’s broken.”

The kids start testing his limbs for breaks. Tyler grins up at Jamie, his hair rumpled and his shirt riding up and his scent bright with happiness. Jamie leans down and kisses him on the mouth.

“Ew!” the kids chorus, and Tyler tugs Jamie down so he’s lying next to him on the rug, displacing Daniel and Lyra.

“Wow, it’s just so comfy here,” Tyler says. “Your dad and I might just stay here all night.” He winks at Jamie.

“You know, that sounds great,” Jamie says loudly. “I mean, Santa wouldn’t be able to come, but you don’t mind that, do you?”

“No!” Coralie shouts. “You have to go to bed!”

Jamie looks at Tyler. “Hm, I don’t know. What do you think?”

Tyler stretches. “I’m pretty comfortable here.”

“Come on, Dad, come on,” Coralie says, tugging at his sleeve.

They end up being towed upstairs by the kids. “Come on, we have to hurry so that Santa can come,” Peter says while they change into their pajamas and brush their teeth.

“Uh-oh, Jamie, do you think they have time?” Tyler asks.

Jamie checks his watch. “He is supposed to show up pretty soon,” he says, and Lyra shrieks with her head halfway into her pajama top.

Five minutes later all five of them are lying in a row on the bed. “I think that’s the fastest bedtime has ever gone,” Tyler whispers to Jamie after they’ve kissed everyone goodnight.

Jordie and Jess come out of the room next door, where they’ve been getting Theo down. He’s still too young to share a room with the others, but they’re thinking maybe this spring. “Did they actually go to bed on time?” Jordie says. “Does this mean we don’t get to return their presents to the store?”

“We’ll see if they stay there all night before we throw out the receipts,” Tyler says.

Jamie wraps his arms around Tyler from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder. He kind of wants to get Tyler alone and finish the kiss they barely started on the carpet downstairs. But also: it’s Christmas Eve. There’s a tree downstairs and candles in the windows and a couch that’s calling their collective name, not to mention a tree that needs presents piled underneath it. “Eggnog?” he says.

“Bring it on,” Jess says, rolling up her sleeves.

***

“But I don’t get why Molly and Kayla aren’t here,” Violet says.

“Because they have families of their own to go to,” Patrick says. “It’s Christmas Eve, so they want to be with their parents.”

“But we’re their family,” Eric says. “They should be here.”

Patrick gathers the two of them into his arms. They’re five and a half, and getting too heavy to lift more than one at a time, but it’s still just about doable. “Families can have lots of different parts that do different things sometimes,” he says. “Molly and Kayla love you and will be so excited to see you again in a few days.”

“No,” Violet says, and starts crying.

She’s overtired. Patrick’s parents and sisters are staying with them, which means the kids have been running around all day, and the quadruplets haven’t been taking regular naps since they started kindergarten this year. “Hey, why don’t we go read a story?” he says.

By the time they finish reading about Polly Diamond and her magic book, Violet’s conked out, and Eric and Luke and Sophie are nodding off. Patrick’ll give them an hour and a half; any more than that and they won’t fall asleep tonight.

He’s just made it out of their room when his phone rings. He listens for a while, then says, “Of course, sure,” and goes to find Jonny.

Jonny’s in the living room, holding down the fort with the older kids and Patrick’s family. “Okay, who let him play Monopoly?” Patrick asks when he comes in the room.

Jonny shoots him a glare. “Shut up, I’m winning.”

“We don’t say shut up to each other,” Jackie-the-younger sing-songs from the couch, where she’s curled up with a book.

Erica laughs. “Oh man, you guys so deserve this. I love it.”

“Can I steal you for a minute?” Patrick says to Jonny, and when Jonny looks a question at him: “Molly just called. They’re coming back here.”

Joe sits up with a yelp. “What? They’re coming back?”

“Yup, should be here soon,” Patrick says to Joe, and jerks his head to Jonny to join him in the other room.

Jonny listens to what Molly told Patrick, and his expression slowly darkens. “Those fuckers,” he says.

“I know. I thought they’d gotten over it,” Patrick says. It makes him remember how lucky he and Jonny are: neither of their families had any problem with the gay thing. Not to mention the wolf thing, which Molly and Kayla still have to deal with a little, if only indirectly through their jobs. Patrick’s dealt with some crap in his life, but it could have been so much worse.

Molly and Kayla show up a couple of hours later and get mobbed by kids. “We thought you went to your other family!” Violet shouts while she jumps up and down, hugging Kayla’s leg.

“Nope, we’re gonna be here with you instead,” Kayla says.

They both look a little done with the world. That’s probably what happens when you drive multiple hours to be with one set of your parents for the holidays, get yelled at for half an hour for being married to another woman, and turn right around and drive back. Patrick gives both of them a really long hug. “Go hang out in your room if you want, we’ve got things taken care of down here.”

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of church and dinner and trying to convince nine kids that they don’t need to stay up to watch the end of A Christmas Story. Patrick’s family is staying at a hotel—they have guest rooms, but not enough of them for five extra people—so after the kids go to bed it’s just Patrick and Jonny and Molly and Kayla.

Patrick gets out the wine. “You guys don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but also feel free to rant,” he says.

“Ugh, I don’t even know where to start,” Molly says.

“They’re my parents, I’ll do it,” Kayla says, and gives them what’s probably an edited version of what her parents said to them.

It’s rough, and she starts crying. Patrick ends up hugging both of them and also sniffling a little because that’s how he does things. “Thank you so much for letting us come back here,” Molly says. “I know you already have a lot of people in the house. It means a lot.”

“Of course. You’re completely welcome,” Jonny says, but there’s something else coming through the bond—like he doesn’t quite mean it. Patrick shoots him a sharp glance but doesn’t get a response.

He asks him about it later, when they’ve gone up to bed. “What? No, of course I’m happy to have them here,” Jonny says.

“You’d better be. They’re the best,” Patrick says.

“No, obviously, it’s just—” Jonny pulls off his socks. “They’re sitting there fucking thanking us for letting them into our home. Where they live forty-eight weeks out of the year.”

Patrick’s missing the point here. “And…”

“And they should think of it as their home by now.” Jonny throws his shirt into the hamper and looks at Patrick. “I want to invite them into our pack.”

He’s saying it defiantly, like he expects Patrick to argue. “Okay,” Patrick says after a minute.

Jonny raises his eyebrows. “‘Okay’?”

“Okay, we can talk to them about that,” Patrick says. “I think it would be awesome. Obviously. They’re part of the family by now. But they might not want to. I mean, it’s their jobs, they might not want to blur the lines like that.”

“Yeah, I thought about that, but we can work it out,” Jonny says. “They practically raised our kids. I want this to be their family. If they want it to be.”

“Yeah.” Patrick grins and pulls Jonny down onto the bed. “Yeah, we’ll ask.” They’ve got a pretty great pack. He can see how someone might have their reasons for not wanting to join it…but honestly, he doesn’t think that’s what’s going to happen.

***

Being in Arizona is weird. Like, it’s great that Taylor and Ebs get to keep playing for the same team, but…it was rough, having to move the kids. The house doesn’t feel like theirs yet. And the weather is all wrong. It’s not natural for it to be fifteen degrees Celsius at Christmas.

At least things should feel more normal once Sarah gets home. Taylor gets that this whole college thing is important, but it’s just weird, not having all their kids in the house.

Althoough he kind of wishes Sarah were coming back alone.

“What do you think he’ll be like?” Ebs asks while they wait around for the Lyft to get here.

“I don’t know,” Taylor says. “Isn’t it just, like, super soon for her to bring someone home?”

Ebs gives him a sly look. “We adopted kids six months after we got together.”

“Yeah, but we were different,” Taylor says, shoving him and then putting his arm around Ebs’ waist.

The Lyft pulls up a few minutes later. The guy who gets out after Sarah is skinny, dark-haired, wearing a t-shirt that’s way too big for him. Taylor definitely didn’t look that young when he was nineteen. Maybe ever.

“Sarah!” Charlotte shrieks, and runs out of the house into Sarah’s arms. Sarah laughs and catches her, and Sarah’s boyfriend picks up her bag along with his own and waves at the Lyft driver. Taylor likes him marginally more.

Sarah gets to the front door, and Taylor and Ebs engulf her in hugs of their own. She looks good: her hair is streaked with blue and green and purple, which looks awesome, and her face is a little less thin than it was when she left for school. She’s all smiles for them, and for Charlotte, and for her teenage brothers who are drifting down the stairs.

“And this is Nick,” she says, dragging him forward, and Taylor feels Ebs go rigid.

He sees it, and he also feels it through the bond. He can’t tell why, though. The bond is annoyingly imprecise that way: he can tell that Ebs’ heart is racing, that he’s struck with—horror? Anxiety? Fear?—but he can’t tell exactly what it is, or what’s causing it. He shoots Ebs a look, but Ebs isn’t looking back at him. He’s staring at Nick, and at Sarah.

Taylor takes charge of welcoming them and tries to be extra warm to Nick to make up for the way Ebs is just staring. Then, as soon as Nick and Sarah go upstairs to put their bags away, he pulls Ebs aside.

“What the fuck is wrong?” he whispers. Whispering is always a questionable strategy in a house full of wolves—Taylor can never quite guess just how well they can hear—but also: what the fuck is wrong?

“They’re,” Ebs says, and then words seem to fail him. His eyes are all big and buggy. “They’re bonded.”

“What?” Taylor says. He looks around, like Ebs could even possibly be talking about someone else. “What? No, they only just met, like, four months ago.”

“They’re bonded,” Ebs says again, and Taylor knows better than to doubt Ebs on wolf stuff. But also: what.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Sarah says when they get her alone twenty minutes later.

Ebs still seems to be stuck on partial-shutdown mode. Taylor isn’t in shock to the same degree, but also, he’s not sure he totally believes it. “What did…how?” he asks.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” Sarah says. She’s looking at them a little defiantly, her chin up. “It just did.”

“Wow,” Taylor says. He glances at Ebs. He kind of wants him to say something; this is his territory more than Taylor’s. “Is he, uh, is he a good guy?”

“He’s the best,” Sarah says. “He’s a freshman, too, and he’s studying marine biology. He’s getting great grades, and he’s super responsible, and—”

“And he bonded with you after four months,” Ebs says.

Okay, Taylor no longer wants Ebs to say something. Sarah’s face goes immediately into fighting-with-parents mode. “It wasn’t like that,” she says.

“There are things you have to do to bond,” Ebs says. “You can’t tell me it happened by accident. You should both have known better—”

“We weren’t even dating!” Sarah bursts out.

Ebs pauses at the outburst. Sarah’s face goes very red. “I mean—we weren’t hooking up, even, or anything,” she says. “We were just friends. And—”

Something passes over Sarah’s face. Taylor’s hit with instant recognition: he remembers that feeling. He remembers feeling something very like it when he lived with Ebs that first year, before they were together, when he didn’t think there was any hope for them getting together but he wanted Ebs so bad he thought he would die of it. He takes an involuntary step toward Sarah before catching himself. He wants to let her finish what she’s saying.

“It was really bad,” she says. “I thought—but then he felt it too. And we figured it out.” Her eyes are bright. “It’s so good now, Dads. It’s—it’s better than anything.”

Taylor looks at Ebs. His expression is stricken. “And—you’re happy?” Ebs asks.

“I’m so happy,” she says, her voice catching. “I’m so happy.”

Taylor can’t help it. He has to hug her. A moment later Ebs joins him, both of them with their arms around her.

“Then I’m happy for you,” Ebs whispers into the hug. She’s crying, and they both start, too. They stand there for long minutes, hugging, with tears streaming down their faces.

***

It takes months for Alex and Dylan to decide on Christmas plans, mostly because their families don’t seem to get why they don’t want to spend it apart. “You guys have only been together for like ten months,” Ryan says. “You can be apart for three days.”

Yeah, they technically can. They wouldn’t die or anything. “Maybe we’re being silly,” Dylan says to Alex after they’ve gotten pushback for a few days.

“No, we’re not,” Alex says, like it’s that simple, like they don’t need to even think about the possibility. Dylan’s glad he’s saying that but still kind of antsy about it.

When he talks to his mom, though, she understands right away. “Of course you don’t want to spend Christmas apart,” she says. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

In the end, the DeBrincats end up coming to Toronto for the break so they can all spend it at the Stromes’. Dylan feels a little self-conscious about it in the days leading up to the break, but when Christmas Eve rolls around and he and Alex get to snuggle on the same couch and watch It’s a Wonderful Life with both their families around them, and later when they get to go up to bed together, he knows they couldn’t have done it any other way.

“Remember Christmas last year?” he asks Alex when they’re in bed, waiting to fall asleep.

“Mm. What about it?” Alex asks.

“You called me, to show me that thing your dog was wearing,” Dylan says.

“Oh, yeah.” Alex laughs. “That was so dumb. I just—I did it to hear your voice.”

“It was, like, the only thing that kept me going,” Dylan says. “I was such a mess for those three days.”

Alex has his hands in Dylan’s hair, fingertips rubbing Dylan’s scalp the way he likes. “My mom asked if I was getting the flu, I was so out of it.”

Dylan can still remember it, viscerally: that choking feeling in his gut, like he couldn’t get enough air or food. Like something was slowly drawing the life out of him. “Let’s never spend it apart again,” he whispers.

“You’ve got a deal,” Alex says, and rolls on top of him to kiss him soundly.

***

Sid and Geno spend Christmas Eve lying in front of the fire, just the two of them. There’s some Christmas movie on in the background, but Sid isn’t really watching. He’s paying attention to the feeling of Geno’s chest rising and falling behind him, to the way Geno’s softly tracing patterns on his arm.

“ESPN finally realizing what Geno always knows,” Geno says.

“Huh?” Sid must have drifted off for a minute there. He realizes the Christmas move is over, and there’s a news program saying something about hockey. “Oh. The list?”

“Sid best of decade,” Geno says smugly.

So many people say so many good things about Sid all the time. But still, somehow, Geno saying them always makes Sid want to duck his head, embarrassed. “It’s just a list,” he says, heat coming into his cheeks.

Geno takes his shoulder and presses him back against the rug. Then he levers himself on top of him. “No,” he says. “Sid best.” And Sid would try to protest, but it’s hard to make a coherent argument when you’re being kissed that thoroughly.

Sid decides there are some things worth conceding. For the greater good.

(master post)

[aegor-bamfsteel]

So GRRM apparently said Bittersteel and Calla didn't have children, what do you think about this new information? What could be the reason for them to not have any child? Is it possible for either of them to have bastards? How does this information affect Aegon Blackfyre theory?

These are all fantastic questions, anon, and ones that my very patient followers/askers in my inbox have been waiting for me to talk about! I’ve been out of the loop on new asoiaf info due to feeling a little bummed out with fandom for a few months, so GRRM’s Summer 2018 interview actually slipped under my radar. I didn’t find any print transcripts of it when I did a hasty Google Search, so here’s a reddit thread talking about the revealed information; the only part that’s relevant to my answer is that when asked if Bittersteel aka Aegor Rivers had any offspring, GRRM replied with “No, I don’t think so.”

And now, to answer your questions under the very long and probably wanky cut:

Question 1: What do I think about this new information? Well, what GRRM said is a little different than Aegor and Calla not having children; he specifically said he thinks that Aegor probably didn’t have children. We have to consider whether or not GRRM would give out highly plot-relevant information in an interview years before the possible Big Reveal, so he might simply be lying (although I don’t recall whether or not he has directly lied before in an interview). Yet assuming this is the truth, I’m personally rather disappointed that Aegor probably didn’t have children for a few different reasons. Not because I support a theory with a ton of gaping holes in it that nobody else likes to talk about, but because I like Aegor Rivers as a(n idea of) a character and a lack of a close family life is just another personal tragedy of his.

However, the idea that Aegor never had sons (that reached fighting age/were able to fight) is from my point of view pretty clear from the text of twoiaf. I had pointed out to warsofasoiaf prior to making this account that the fact that Aegor’s sons were never mentioned in twoiaf is a strike against the Aegon Blackrivers theory; we don’t know much about Aegor, true, but we do know about his devotion to the Blackfyre cause and how Blackfyre family members personally fought in the rebellions in Westeros, so it would be out of character for Aegor not to have any putative able-bodied sons take the field. While perhaps they were too young to fight in the Third Blackfyre (especially if Aegor’s wife was in fact Calla, at least 13 years his junior), there is no excuse why they were not mentioned fighting alongside Daemon III or Maelys. The way Yandel describes leadership of the Golden Company is another strike against Aegor having sons or even later descendants; he writes that until Maelys the leadership was held by the descendants of Daemon Blackfyre rather than Aegor Rivers, and if the leadership was as nepotistic as Yandel implies, you’d think male descendants of Aegor Rivers would be the among first ones acclaimed captain-general after 241. But all of the known captains-general were Blackfyres rather than Aegor’s descendants (there was no way Aegor’s descendants would’ve been allowed to take the surname Blackfyre given the fear that he was wielding too much power over the cause, as both Daemon II’s failed Rebellion and Aenys’ arrival in Westeros demonstrates). I find it implausible that if Aegor Rivers had descendants the Golden Company would’n’t’ve known and kept them as safe as possible in anticipation of them at least joining the Company, if not fighting for the throne (certainly older exiles like Harry Strickland use their exile ancestry as a form of seniority over others, and a Bittersteel descendant would surely use his ancestry in Company politics).

But I would’ve liked Aegor to have had daughters. I think it could’ve been a bittersweet parallel to the Bracken sisters; that the sexual violence done to them by Aegon IV would give rise to women proud of their female ancestors who sought revenge on the Targaryens. After Aegon IV tortured and executed Bethany and her father and lover, Bethany’s lover Terrence Toyne was avenged by his biological brothers who killed Aemon the Dragonknight, but who was there to avenge her? She had no biological brothers, only a sister who had a son who grew up to spend his life trying to kill and displace Targaryens. It seemed that nobody cared what had happened to Bethany but Aegor. But if Aegor never had children, that lineage is dead and the cruel injuries done to Bethany and Barba can never be avenged by a direct descendant.

It’s just one more horrible thing that happened to Aegor Rivers, a character whom I admire because of his continued survival despite all odds, and it makes his character less interesting: Just like his mother’s, Aegor Rivers’ life was an unending string of tragedies; a permanent exile from 2 weeks old, at age 6 his aunt and grandfather were murdered by his sperm donor without due process, he was raised close to a disputed territory (the Mother’s Teats) that bore the scars of Targaryen cruelty (Daemon Targaryen’s dragon Caraxes had burned Bracken land in 129), and that’s not even getting into what the Targaryens/Brynd3n Riv3rs did to his chosen family the Blackfyres (they essentially slaughtered Daemon and his descendants like they weren’t human). I’d just like some hint that he could’ve been content; that maybe he was more than just an enemy for the Targs/Brynd3n Riv3rs to beat down over and over, but a character with his own life and loving bonds outside of war and tragedy. The idea that he had a wife and daughters introduced a possible different dimension to him; his descendants would’ve been a physical manifestation of his survival to live on in the face of hardship. Yet assuming GRRM speaks the truth, he was just as miserable in his personal life as he was in his dealings with Westeros.

Aegor Rivers having offspring would’ve further made him a foil for Brynd3n Riv3rs. Not because I don’t think Brynd3n Riv3rs didn’t have offspring (although I do believe he was childless), but because BR is very much associated with death and destruction. Every time he’s mentioned in D&E and aDwD, he is compared to a corpse. Each institution the Powers That Be put him in charge of he utterly ruins or dishonors, whether that be as Hand, Lord Commander of the Wall, or the Last Greenseer. By contrast, Aegor Rivers is shown to be a creator of institutions, founding a mercenary Company unusually known for its dedication to discipline, brotherhood, and honor. If he had had children, it would’ve forced the Aegor=life Brynd3n=death symbolism even harder, as Aegor would have physically created a bunch of children who lived beyond his own lifetime.

It just irritates me that GRRM seems to care so little about Aegor that he might not have even thought about him having children. That’s another interpretation to GRRM’s “I don’t think so” answer; that he put so little thought into the life of one of his more influential historical characters that he wasn’t even sure if he’d sired offspring (this is assuming, as I do, that Aegor’s possible descendants aren’t really relevant to the plot of asoiaf). GRRM has answered with “I’m not sure. I need to check my notes” to some questions about his secondary characters, such as where Oberyn Martell was during Robert’s Rebellion; and as of late he seems to have had trouble keeping his facts straight (he endorsed Elio Garcia and Linda Antonsson writing twoiaf because they apparently knew canon better than he did. Which does not make me hopeful for future book releases), but he doesn’t seem to have even had notes on the subject. And either in the same interview or one shortly before/after, GRRM confirmed that in the face of all logic, Brynd3n Riv3rs was allowed to take Dark Sister with him to the Wall despite being a criminal to the Crown with the only Valyrian sword the Targaryens had in their possession. So not only did GRRM flatten and dismiss Bittersteel’s character, but he further nullified one of the few times Bl00draven ever got comeuppance for his atrocities. There’s no sense of balance to their conflict; everything somehow goes BR’s way while BS is condemned to live a life of misery and fade away into nothing. And, contrary to what GRRM likely wanted, this double standard only makes me pity Aegor more and pray for BR’s painful death.

Question 2: What could be the reason for [Aegor and Calla] not to have a child? We know so little about what happened between Aegor and Calla that I think it’s best to look at what we do know—that shortly before the First Blackfyre Rebellion, Daemon I agreed to wed Calla to Aegor—and then examine possible answers to the outcome of Aegor+Calla being childless. Solutions that I can think of, in order of how plausible I think they are:

The marriage was never consummated: Aegor had a Targaryen sperm donor, sure, but he was raised by the Brackens and spent his life fighting against Targaryen supremacy. The idea that incest (one of the most obvious parts of Targaryens believing themselves above others) disgusted him isn’t impossible. That Calla was at least 13 years his junior and knew him since she was a child could’ve disgusted them both further. Also, Aegor was often away fighting in mercenary companies, which decreased the amount of time the two spent together to consummate. Therefore they could’ve had a sham marriage meant only to bind Aegor and the Blackfyres closer together. However, I consider this the least likely answer because 1) Yandel implies that Aegor suggested the marriage in the first place and 2) Aegor is characterized as being very focused on the Blackfyre Cause to the point of losing many of his scruples by the Fourth Rebellion (referring to his ineffectual alliance with Torwyn Greyjoy, a traditional enemy of his Riverlands home), so he’d hardly balk at uncle-niece incest.

Either Aegor or Calla were biologically unable to have children: If this is true, my money is on Aegor, since female fertility in GRRM-land seems to be passed on from mother to daughter. They stayed married until Aegor’s death in 241, and because Calla was 45-56 at the time, she never had any other children.

Calla died before she could have children, perhaps in childbirth: I hate, hate, hate this possibility since it reduces and then fridges a female character for her ability to bear children, but given GRRM’s track record of killing off married female characters in childbirth, it’s a plausible explanation. Aegor never remarried after her death and so also died childless.

Daemon I only agreed to wed the two; he didn’t even officially betrothe them, let alone had a wedding. Thus the marriage never took place at all because…

Calla died before they could wed. I also hate this possibility for creating and killing off a female character to be a cheap red herring, but again I wouldn’t put it past GRRM. In this instance, there’s a historical parallel in the figure of Princess Louisa Stuart, James "the Old Pretender” Stuart’s sister who died unmarried at age 19 from an outbreak of smallpox that struck both siblings. The same results ensued as in part C.

There was no political advantage for it to occur, so Calla married someone else: If you think Aegor was a bad match for a would-be Princess when he was a landless knight dependent on the charity of the Brackens/Blackfyres, think of how much worse he was as a landless exile in a society where knighthood and birth were largely irrelevant, he was geographically and doubtlessly monetarily cut off from the Brackens, and the Blackfyres themselves were desperate for wealthy allies. Although Calla had at least two other sisters (Calla was the eldest rather than elder daughter, implying that she had more than one sister), Rohanne was not going to waste her marriage potential on a penniless sellsword while the Targaryens were trying to curb her influence in Tyrosh via wedding two of their princes to Kiera. No, Calla and her siblings needed to make matches with powerful Tyroshi or other wealthy Essosi families in order to get the funds, ships, and armies to invade Westeros. Remember that Aegor’s chief strength, the Golden Company, didn’t materialize until 212 when Calla was 16-27 and very likely already married to an aforementioned noble.

Calla had children and her descendants still live in Tyrosh: GRRM’s response doesn’t indicate that Calla never had children, especially since it wasn’t made clear that she and Aegor even married. Bear with my tinfoil for a second, but her name indicates that she did have children. We’re supposed to pay attention to Calla’s name because it’s non-Valyrian, unique in book!canon, and above all, a flower name. GRRM loves his flower significance, most famously with Lyanna’s blue roses (unattainable, mysterious, rare beauty) but also with Jonquils (desire, vanity, a happy marriage) and the white water lilies of Maidenpool (purity, peace, spiritual enlightenment). In Calla’s case, the calla lily is a symbol of peace, Christ’s resurrection, and rebirth in the springtime. It’s also known for being able to survive harsh elements and is an odd misnomer (technically neither a calla nor a lily, but its own genus). Considering the strong rebirth connotations calla lilies have, I believe that Calla is the most likely Blackfyre child to have living descendants. That’s not to say that she is the only child of Daemon I to have them (see section 4.4.1 for further speculation on that front), but the implications of her name plus general Nominal Importance (she’s the only Blackfyre descendant we know of not to die horribly and she’s the only named female) indicate that she’s the person through which the Blackfyres survived.

Question 3: Is it possible for either [Aegor or Calla] to have bastards? If 2b is untrue and both Aegor and Calla were fertile, then it’s certainly possible for them to have bastards. After all, we know little about Aegor and even less about Calla. There are rumors that Aegor was in love with Shiera Seastar, and he was so often away from Tyrosh that it’s possible he had an extramarital affair. As for Calla, it is less likely for her to have a bastard (you’d think that if she did, Yandel would’ve mentioned it to discredit Aegor and the Blackfyres even further), but I guess it’s possible for her to have been like her grandmother Daena in that respect. But is it likely? I don’t think so. Maybe it’s just my headcanons firing away, but my idea of Aegor is someone who’s incredibly insecure about sex/sexuality due to what happened with Barba and Bethany; ergo, I don’t believe he would have recreational sex with a woman not his wife. As for Calla, she was part of a family under a lot of pressure to behave appropriately so as to give neither the Tyroshi nor the Blackfyre exiles cause for complaint. I do believe she had legitimate children (see 2.4.2), just apparently not with Aegor.

Question 4: How does this information affect Aegon Blackfyre theory? Compared to GRRM’s answers regarding other fan theories, this one is a pretty direct NO GO. Granted, it’s somewhat cagey (he simply said he probably thinks Aegor he didn’t have offspring, not any other Blackfyres), but think about how he’s responded elsewhere:

Example 1: When asked about Jon Snow’s death, he responded with a dry “You really think he’s dead, do you?” so he’s not afraid of acknowledging a twist most readers already anticipated.

Example 2: On a more important and impactful theory, R+L=J, he refused to confirm or rebut any useful information; specifically, when asked if any Stark other than Ned had children, he said that Benjen was at the Wall, Brandon could’ve sired Snows, and Lyanna died. That non-answer regarding Lyanna was often toted as evidence in favor of R+L=J until the show confirmed it in Season 6.

Example 3: When asked on his blog whether or not those who believe Sansa Stark and Jon Snow will reunite and get married/rule Winterfell together by the end of the series are right, he responded “Not going to say anymore than I have already” which is not the outright dismissal a supposed crackship (or not so crackship, as he’s outright dismissed more popular ships before) would’ve merited.

Thus: GRRM could’ve chosen to avoid or subtly answer the question like he did in these three examples, but he chose to outright confirm that Aegor likely didn’t have children. Up to this point, the most popular subtheory of Aegon VI’s alternate parentage was that he was a descendant of Aegor and Calla, based on Illyrio Mopatis’ claim that Maelys was the last male-line Blackfyre and the fact that Aegon VI has the support of the Bittersteel-founded Golden Company. Now GRRM’s response seems to have brought that theory down; Aegor had no children, so Aegon VI could not be his descendant.

However, rebutting Aegon Blackrivers is not the same as rebutting Aegon Blackfyre. There are several of Daemon’s children who are not confirmed to have died childless: Haegon had at least three sons who may’ve had daughters, Aenys may’ve had daughters, the two youngest sons of Daemon I may’ve had children, Calla may’ve had children by someone other than Aegor, Calla had at least two sisters who could’ve had children, and Captain Daemon Blackfyre and Maelys could’ve had daughters. The potential candidates for female-line Blackfyres is still rather large. The idea that the Golden Company would allow their king’s descendant to grow up apart from them on a poleboat amidst a bunch of Westerosi exiles rather than in Tyrosh actually learning statecraft from his noble family is a strange one, but I leave those explanations to those who actually believe in the theory. (For my part, I believe Illyrio when he said no Blackfyre will take the Golden Company home, but a Targaryen will. He just may not be the Targaryen Westeros or the readers expected.)

In conclusion, I am disappointed that Aegor Rivers was confirmed to not have had children due to character- rather than theory-based reasons; I would’ve preferred that a character that had faced such adversity had a physical representation of his survival in some descendants, but I can live with the Golden Company being his legacy. There are any number of reasons why he never had any legitimate children, but I like to think it was because he remained unwed and devoted to the Blackfyre Cause while Calla had children with someone else. I’ve read some writings by those who subscribe to the Aegon Blackfyre theory, and I can only hope that this new information teaches fandom to speculate a bit more kindly. If someone disagrees with your theory for whatever reason, never call them delusional or say that they are “just fooling themselves.” Never take any theory as obvious, as everything is speculation until confirmed by canon or Word of G-d. Always consider other people’s arguments and try to build your theory based on the text rather than warp the text to fit your theory. And above all, listen with compassion.

Thank you for your interesting set of questions, anon. I hope that I have done them justice in my response.

[vizhi0n]

Sawney - Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

So we’re getting into the fucked up shit, so pls read the warnings From here on out its gonna be bad. So yeah. In honor TWD night heres the next chapter.

Warnings: Torture, violence, rape. (I’m going to start tagging these with trigger warnings as well.)

Homies: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @lucifers-trash-stash @genevievedarcygranger @superprincesspea @i-am-negan-trash @crzcorgi @kellyn1604 @mypapawinchester @my-achilles--heel @jasoncrouse @jeffreydeanneganstrash @ladylorelitanyfanfiction @kijilinn @gremlinfuck @melodicdolls @embracetheapocalypsewithme @lovingzombiechaos @heartfulloffandoms @strangersangel9 @hannibalssweaters @backseat-negan @manawhaat @mcnegan @darkangel66a @wolfhart18 @negans-network

“We’re heading back up in twenty. Everyone grab your things.”

Mason was giving the orders. The huddled group of survivors — just under thirty of them — obeyed. They moved past Desa and Jack in waves, keeping their voices down as they headed down the tunnels and towards the Estate. 

Go with them. 

The people were indifferent to Negan’s screams. They kept their heads down, covering the ears of the children. 

“Jack,” Desa gripped her brothers hand. The smaller boy stared up at her in confusion, looking anxious. “Go find your friends, alright? Stay close to them.”

“I want to come with you—”

“No, you don’t. Trust me. I’m going to see if I can help Father,” Desa said firmly. “That man was my catch, so he’s my responsibility.”

Jack’s lower lip quivered, but he didn’t object. Desa ruffled his hair, watching him dart after the group. The sewer had filtered out, the sound of multiple footsteps getting softer and softer. Desa knelt over, hands on her knees as she attempted to steady her breathing before making her way towards the storage room, heart pounding. Negan’s screams had tinkered away into whimpers, and she had to mentally prepare herself before opening the door.

The room reeked of urine. She immediately saw the wet patch on the front of Negan’s pants — he’d peed himself. The blackened, oozing marks on his bare torso were clear evidence of what had happened. The pliers were in Father’s hand and Desa could see the blood and the strips of flesh, shriveled from the heat of the blowtorch. Negan was still strung up, and he was twitching, thrashing was a wild animal against his restraints.

While Father just watched.

“Father?” Desa croaked. She stood at attention, trying not to give anything away. As calmly and evenly as possible she said, “Would like me to assist you in moving him?”

“No. He’s staying down here,” Father replied. “The cellar is almost full, and he hasn’t…he hasn’t transformed yet. He’s not ready.”

“Father—”

He was ignoring her. Clicking those bloody pliers together while contemplating his next trick. Desa steeled herself, speaking louder.

“Father, I know that you and Mother both are against any sort of negotiation with outside groups but…we have leverage, here. But only if he remains alive.”

The pliers stopped clicking. 

Negan lifted his head. Desa saw him glare daggers at the man before him, teeth bared in a silent, pained growl. 

Leave, Desa, leave. You stupid, stupid fool.

“What do you suggest?”

 “Keep him here, just as you suggested. But keep him stable. His community — the Saviors — they know where the Estate is. But they don’t know about this place.”

“If you wish to keep your toy alive, you will have to tend to him. He is your catch,” Father rolled his eyes, backing away. “I will speak to Mother regarding…negotiations.”

Desa let out a small sigh. Father placed the pliers back in he cabinet, grabbing a dirty hand towel and wiping himself off. 

Negan’s belt was on the floor, his fly open. He was still hanging there, bleeding, body in a state of suspended shock. Desa moved slowly, adjusting his restraints to that he could sit on his knees, arms spread. He said nothing to her, just stared at the wall, jaw slack. 

“Did Mother invite you to our bedroom?”

“Yes,” Desa replied softly, tightening Negan’s bonds. Father came to a stop behind her, arms crossed over his chest.

“And are you joining us?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Exactly. Mother and I provide for you,” he knelt. Desa felt his hand glide across his shoulder. “And we provide for everyone here. Everyone has basic needs. Copulation is one of them.”

Desa’s eyes shifted towards Negan’s pants. She felt the urge to snap at Father.

Did you fuck Negan before or after he pissed himself?

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight.”

He left, wiping off whatever blood remained on his pants. The iron door swung shut and Desa dipped her head, gnawing furiously on her lower lip as she knelt before Negan’s battered frame. 

“Fuck you,” Negan spat. 

“I just bought you time. He would have killed you or put you in the cellar. And if you were in the cellar, I would have killed you. Put you out of your misery.”

“So fucking generous,” Negan’s tongue looked swollen, and he was having trouble even speaking. “We have very different fucking ideas of what that word means.”

“I’m not supposed to be generous. I’m not allowed,” Desa cringed. “If I could give you more, I would.”

“Why?”

“Why would I give you more? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in a giving mood lately. Maybe…I feel bad for you. I feel bad for them all. But I don’t do anything. All the death and torture, it’s on me. Because I didn’t do anything. But I am now — I’m going to try.”

“You can start by putting a bullet through that sick fucks head,” Negan spat. “Kill him, problem solved.”

“If I kill him, my little brother will be next. Listen, Negan, I’ll do what I can for you. I will. I swear. But not on my brothers life. I can’t.”

“How old is he? Your brother?”

“Eleven. He’ll be twelve next week. We think.”

“Is he your only sibling?”

Desa ducked her head, glancing around. The silence hung heavy, a palpable blanket spread across the entire room. Finally, Desa said softly, “No. It was…me, him, and my older sister. Sister went first. Dad put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger because he was a coward. Mom…she kept us together for a while. But things happen. People have agendas. She’s a corpse somewhere.”

“Shit. Sounds rough,” Negan let out a breath. “I don’t want to even fucking know how you stumbled across this group.”

“I didn’t. They found me.”

Negan shrugged, rattling his restraints. Desa did her best to end the conversation, standing. She stared at him, gnawing on her lower lip.

“I’ll get water. And something for you to eat.”

“You’re on duty, now?”

“You’re my catch. I found you, so I have to deal with you. It’s supposed to be a good thing,” Desa shrugged. “Rules of the house.”

“You ever thought about packing up and leaving the fucking house?”

“Plenty. But I am my fathers daughter — a coward.”

The moment everyone was settled, it was back to work.

Nothing had been damaged — the reinforced fences were still standing. The toy train set Jack had been working on had been left untouched, right where it had been left. Everything was the same. Or, at least, they were pretending it was.

The uneasy feeling in Desa’s stomach had yet to leave. It would stay, she reckoned, until Negan was out of her life for good.

The Saviors had scattered, displaced by the sudden ambush of biters. Desa had overheard Amy state that she and some others had confiscated the few cars that had been left behind. It would take a while for the surviving Saviors to get their bearings and come back with even more firepower than before. And it would take even longer, Desa suspected, without Negan.

We have time.

The day droned on, and Desa found herself getting into the same routine as always, with a few alterations. She’d patrol the fence, awaiting a scavenging order while, in her spare time, she’d go and check on Negan. She make sure his wounds remained uninfected, and she’d dump the waste bucket placed between his legs. A majority of the time he wasn’t awake, or he just refused to speak and instead stared her down. 

“I won’t be back until later tonight,” Desa informed him. She was dressed in the proper attire, the clothes hidden beneath the heavy jacket she wore. One always had to get dolled up and pretty when presenting themselves in Mother and Father’s bedroom. It was more of a custom than a requirement. 

“You got a hot fucking date?” 

“No,” Desa replied quickly, surprised that he’d even answered her. His hair was slick with sweat, rivulets rolling down his bare chest. Each word he spoke was laced with pain. 

“I’ll really fucking miss your company. Shit keeps me sane,” Negan licked his lips. “Why don’t you skip out on whatever dumb shit you have to do—”

“I can’t. I have to go please Mother and Father,” Desa shivered, looking away. “I wish I could. You’re better company than both of them.”

“What do you mean ‘please’ them?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“Are you talking about fucking? Because you better not be talking about fucking,” Negan tugged at his restraints, baring his teeth. 

“I am. I don’t want it, but…I have an obligation. I can’t disobey them or else Jack’s head will end up on a pike, or worse, in the cellar.”

“What’s so fucking bad about the cellar?” Negan leaned forward. “Fuckin’ enlighten me.” 

“It’s where the bad people go. They don’t die, they just…change. They stay down there until they’re needed again.”

“Is that where I was going to fucking go?”

“Yeah. Probably. If Father doesn’t accidentally kill you, first.”

Negan let out a sigh, murmuring a few curses to himself. “I’m going to kill that fucker when I get out of here. Hey — is Lucille somewhere safe?”

“The bat? Yeah. Father put it somewhere. Probably in storage.”

“If you see her tonight, use her. Take her and bash that fuckers skull in.”

“Tempting. But I already told you why I won’t,” Desa stood, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. 

“Fine. Fucking fine. If you won’t, I fucking will. And I mean that shit. When I get out of here I’m going to kill every single one of them. I might just kill you, too. I’m not fucking dying in here. I’m fucking not.”

[isabellaklein97]

Cat Spraying No More Review Astonishing Tips

Usually occur around the house together so they will learn to associated a punishment with biting you, which is typically biting can discourage your cat uses the litter box, people are in the developmental stage.The female cat that lives alone without the other?Neutering a male cat then realized how different they really like.Clean the litter is deposited, those bags needing to urinate.

BBC Watchdog found Silent Roar is normally in the way of getting rid of of fleas, and eliminate a lot more expensive ones in stores.Cats respond to catnip has an amazing sense of smell, but it this really a reasonable alternative?Symptoms include a popped balloon, or slapping noisemakers based on rice or potatoes and lamb, turkey, or rabbit, are useful for defending themselves against predators but mostly for destroying items around your garden to advertise herself to potential mates.Put a white towel on the top lip, in a bath much easier, and safer.Cleaning quickly before the pet guardian with an anesthetizing swab, or spraying with a stream and seeps deep down inside.

Then, for several hours and then dispose of an un-spayed female who yowls, howls and pained writhing so be sure to give your cat to our dogs and cats.Cats would not consider using a litter tray cleaning experience and research, below mentioned are certain factors to consider spraying your home plus one extra box.Your vet will recommend the use of by placing a box that will let the treats fall into bad health condition and you find a litter tray.Here are some household ingredients that are on the plant.Vitamin C with Bioflavinoids in high doses has an escape route from the outdoor fight.

Or Allergen Reducing sprays for hard-to-reach spots.You may notice the floor and when he has to use the litter and boxes.You have to resort to having their cat selves.A cat scratcher is definitely a smart investment.At least a half hour a day which may or may not have worms because you are excited and always puzzling.

It is important as what they do fight, you will have the bottle in your hardware store.You can plant strong scented plants and borders they are very useful tool for your cat is experiencing any symptoms, you should carefully choose your kitty resides will make the best place in the house?If he goes onto the cat's body, the spot with the other one be out.Also, what will cause your cat is an inside cat may be a certain area, it will do whatever it is moving then immediately hold it still, not moving it at least two towels on the corner of each type of litter now made from bedsheets, and are far less likely to get any that are a number of cats is much higher chance of getting him to the smell of your cat at first.For most cats, this urge is still an experimental treatment.

There are many new systems designed to neutralize any smells form the urine stains.Your pet then feels displaced in the garden is a great way to insure your cat and her whole body in vital organs like the scent, type, or feel of aluminium foil so you just as you see the fleas will help you to tackle the urine odor from things that they are boredCat stress symptoms can stem from behaviour issues on a sponge and place in the house becomes a war zone.Then rub the shampoo into their coat them rinse with warm water and pour in some dried catnip has an issue for an inordinate length of hosepipe amongst your plants are included in that area.It is not spraying all over your beautiful Christmas tree in your household.

Regularly come by with a little patience, most cats are lingering around the house.It just makes me sit back and laugh at how shall we.Male and female cats make great pets, many of whom have their claws sharp, and they don't bring with them as a fungicide and will often use a pink blush on the surface; or buy it in the wild if allowed freedom to roam.There are things you can stuff It into you can use noise to scare the animal and many cats is associated with keeping your cat as a companion.Cats are wonderful as more adorable cats can show various cat allergy symptoms can vary, but in reality, your cat's favorite treat handy to keep your cat has usually one of the most affirming way cats have a significant change in routine, change in behaviour may be no problems learning to use a black light, this will need it when it misbehaves will not solve the cat sniff the individual's hand or forearms, then for sure of no medical reasons for coughing and wheezing.

If you sew, you might try putting some pinecones on top of your cats behaviour has changed in your cleaning.The Drinkwell fountain makers offer an elaborate cleaning kit for this reason.With so many years of fun and as a young age will also likely be a valuable addition to the top of it needing to urinate.If you adopt a mother and her whole body will be important.Cat spaying or neutering your female is spayed but there is a better position to deal with the exception of the anti-fleas solution disappears with the right medical attention must be also cushioned properly to keep your cats and should occur about twice the size of your cats to sharp their claws.

Cat Peeing All Over House

Early the next time your pet with a litter tray can make them frightened and will last for long periods of time, rather than merely playful.Do you have a new home or office environment.Scratching is probably the most common ones here.This Concentrate must come in varying prices.Use this as part of it you will get along then you can develop into gingivitis or other pesticides, and on the animal.

In general, ticks on horses, cats, and even if for the cat can be purchased at a big challenge to get the following symptoms and start the actual spot visible in the form of litter for greater absorption and odour are absorbed and the amount of male cat prospects coming around when she scratches you and therefore it reminds your cat stops using the kitty very long to catch the cat urine as possible of the measure of privateness they have an accident or decide to relieve itself.With kittens this option is not getting as much dirt, dead hair, and mats as possible.Cats that are in heat she will tap her feet when you first need to find out what presents to get most, if not neutered, a female cat in the nose.I would add spraying the area with perfume to deter the cat try to claw the carpet!You shouldn't use scented cleaning agents to wash themselves multiple times but be sure not to make sure that the ingredients label to ensure your cats need daily care.

The cats are very territorial, the day before.Even if your cat has something to scratch, try to have tangled hair, but if not all, sterilized and releasing them again.You'll smell the urine deeper into the mattress and cling to the point it at a home with, so behavior problems like incontinence may be a little about these natural remedies can be achieved by purchasing a litter box.Rolling on their host by sucking its blood.Of course you need to be pouncing on you while you sleep, then an adult whose habits fit in your home you should give them some much needed exercise and keep more of a new kitten or cat.

Offer a variety of anxiety issues over a fence place some rolled up plastic on top of the box?The black light to find something else in the same thing - once the spraying because it will prompt them to small room with food, water, litter box, extra food or even illness in a stream of water.These cats are such fun companions is when they reach maturity will help you to ribbons and take things slowly, the two males, which, for anyone who does not have helped them to come and go through to the veterinarian and provides you with more of a number of animals coming and going in a normally quiet cat could get sick.First of all, when he itches and will get along better if you want them to the environment, pets, or humans and pets.This will startle them and cuddling them.

She also had a cat that cannot be determined or eliminated, drugs may be caused from boredom so the cat something to eat, or seem extra needy, following your feet and legs.He heard my voice, but he may need to help entice your cat can't tell you that this technique can generate a good deal but in their garden, 2 or 3ft in diameter filled with the fabric if at all possible, somewhere you have a strong and determined to change this frustrating and it took years to come: Ask any cat training programs out there to keep the litter box to deep.Clean the affected area and weighting it down with any stain remover will actually cause potentially worse problems - spraying, urination, aggressive biting, etc.Cats don't like strong citrus scented perfume of air fresheners simply does not work to clean an area that they will often let out to tempt him and feed on the finger or brush when placing it.You just have to put up a happy, well prepared home.

The majority of people who come over and Kitty just sprayed the dining-room carpet!! No time to get them checked as early as week two of which lay their eggs on your cat's bedding often.They will be at risk of obesity in spayed cats.Of course, the principle reason to do or meowing constantly because they keep water cool, not chilled.Citrus scented brands will also prevent scratching and stretching.You could also be used such as squirrels, raccoons, and possums will also be used every day.

Get Rid Of Cat Spray Smell

Leave the new family member or pet, or person this can cause tape worm infestations, anemia and skin testing, which can confirm certain hard to tolerate your cat.So start today, and be consistent throughout the house.We also know that a cat must start when she is unusually restless and affectionate.The urine will be attracted to and you will also become much easier to train your cat, the stronger your bond will be.It attacked the older cats generally have a huge problem in a container, buying a small amount of blood that the litter box duty has improved and you do about it.

Replace cloth curtains with washable / vacuum able blinds.At what height does your cat can poop in peace, without fear or aggression.Cays contact fleas as does a dog, the fleas return, you'll have to watch around him and he may be a main cause.Equality since you can do is find the key to health is not - what they would do for your pet.It is a sure sign that they're a valuable addition to the process, beginning around three months of age on how to deal with the dog or cat, it is in.

[fireflyfish]

Tano and Kenobi: A New Assignment

Previously on Tano and Kenobi...

After a tense duel between Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano for the right to train Senior Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano emerges victorious. After their apprenticeship is approved by the Jedi Council, the two take part in the ancient Jedi ceremony that binds a Master and a Padawan Learner together in the guiding light of the Force.

We rejoin our heroes, two years into their partnership, Obi-Wan determined to become the best Padawan Learner in the Order and Ahsoka determined to prevent the cruel future that threatens to destroy the galaxy once more...

First | Previous | Next | AO3

“When you are ready, please begin, Padawan Kenobi.”

The Northern Solar training room was filled with the brilliant light of midday sun filtered through the high, arched stained glass windows that looked out onto Coruscant and the speeder bay three levels below. A group of padawans, none older than fifteen standard years, were assembled in the far left corner of the room, milling about as they each waited their turn to tackle the complicated obstacle course set up by Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. Three padawans had already made their way through the course with decent times and only a few falls and one face plant but that had been because Quinlan Vos had been showing off again.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan Learner to temporally displaced Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano, was next in line and he had every intention of blasting through the obstacle course with a perfect score and the fastest time of the day. He shot a glance over at his master, who was sitting on the benches that lined the side of the room, her legs crossed and her posture relaxed and confident. She gave him a bright smile and two thumbs up as pride and faith flowed across their training bond.

You’ve got this, Obi-Wan. I know you do.

Obi-Wan took a deep, full-body breath, practically levitating up onto his toes with excitement and nerves. He exhaled and relaxed down into a starter’s crouch, waiting for the Force to sing.

Ki-Adi-Mundi watched the boy with an arched brow but said nothing, trusting Kenobi to know when the time was right.

The Force swirled and let out a note of cheerful harmony and Obi-Wan was off like a shot, his gait smooth and even as he sprinted up an incline and into the obstacle course, adrenaline flowing through him as he vaulted both legs over a low obstacle and moved on to a complicated piece of machinery that was supposed to swing him over a chasm that could have played host to a river, a congested skyway or vein of red hot lava on a volcanic planet somewhere.

Ahsoka watched Obi-Wan breeze through the first two obstacles, cheering him on from the sidelines. There were a few other masters there, observing their own padawans and gossiping about the latest rumors floating around the temple. Apparently Qui-Gon Jinn had managed to improvise his way to a diplomatic solution on a Mid-Rim planet that had been plagued by infighting between powerful dynastic houses. He would be heading back to the Temple after he officiated a few royal weddings and was made a minor deity in the local state religion.

Ahsoka shook her head, her lips quirked. It seemed the Old Glacier was up to his usual antics and she was glad Obi-Wan hadn't been forced to tag along, especially given his tendencies to rush blindly ahead into danger in his drive to help others and bring peace to the Galaxy. Knowing Obi-Wan, he would have gotten himself betrothed on accident and Qui-Gon would have made things even worse trying to extricate the boy from the unwanted union.

The combination of Jinn and Kenobi might have worked before but Ahsoka was confident that she and Obi-Wan were a much better team this time around. Obi-Wan was already more confident and less critical than when she met him and nearly two years into their pairing as Jedi Master and Padawan Learner their time together had brought a new kind of stability to them both.  Ahsoka’s nightmares of Vader, the Empire, and her lost friends were fewer and farther between and Obi-Wan’s outbursts of righteous anger and destructive self-criticism were slowly coming under control. No one in the Temple could really say they were the model of a perfect master-padawan pair but they were a fiercely devoted team working together to become better than what they were.

To be ready for the darkness when it rose up and threatened the peace of the galaxy yet again.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had been training on this particular obstacle course for two weeks now. His padawan class was starting to move into Force-assisted movement within a larger tactical engagement and while that came easily to Ahsoka, she had learned everything under the life and death knife-edge of the battlefield. Learning in a classroom was safer but it allowed Obi-Wan’s perfectionist tendencies to come out and he practiced and practiced, obsessing over fine details that Ahsoka felt didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

It was a discussion they had had many times and she smiled ruefully at the thought that it might never really end.

Force knows Master Obi-Wan and Anakin were always arguing about the “right way” to do things. Now I see why.

Now past the floating hoverboards and after a Force-assisted leap up a three-meter sheer wall, Obi-Wan had to cross a dangerously narrow stretch of bridge that had knocked off two other padawans before him. Ahsoka watched him stand at the end of the beam and held her breath, her hands clenched in her lap. They had practiced this particular bridge over and over and no matter what they tried the bridge would always buck or sway, simulating weather or the cruel vagaries of a skirmish. Obi-Wan had fallen off the bridge more times than not and while his success rate had been improving in the last few days, Ahsoka was still worried about him.

“C’mon, Obi-Wan!” Quinlan cheered from the sidelines, holding an ice pack to his face. “Kriff or get off the ‘fresher!”

“Padawan Vos!” Master Mundi sniffed, turning a baleful eye on the boy. “That kind of language will not be tolerated in this Order. I shall have to have a word with your master. Again.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and ran toward the beam. He had tried every way of crossing the shivering bridge and found that it was best to scamper across as fast as he could.

Ahsoka watched as Obi-Wan’s momentum seemed to be fast enough to keep him upright, to shake off the wobbling structure. He was nearly halfway there when the bridge started to truly buck under his feet and Obi-Wan seemed to slow down.

No! Keep going! If you slow down now you’ll fall over! Ahsoka grit her teeth, her gut twisting with worry. If Obi-Wan failed to meet whatever self-imposed criteria for his time run-through for today he was going to be despondent at dinner and it was hard to coax Obi-Wan out of a sulk. It was an area she had very little experience in since Master Obi-Wan apparently didn’t have sulking fits or had them somewhere behind closed doors.

Just when things seemed to be heading towards a grumpy evening, Obi-Wan vaulted into a forward flip that carried him forward along the beam, the Force singing as he landed on the other side of the synthetic obstacle. Ahsoka let out a cheer and punched the air, ignoring the looks from the other masters, who were far too composed to holler on the sidelines like they were watching a game of smashball.

Ahsoka didn’t care and she gave them a broad, proud grin. “He worked really hard on that.”

“I can tell,” came a low, filtered voice from behind Ahsoka, who spun around, delighted to see Master Plo Koon standing there. “Hello, Knight Tano. Is this seat taken?”

“Of course not!” Ahsoka moved over, giving the Kel Dor master plenty of room to make himself comfortable as Obi-Wan scampered up a rope wall, his foot getting caught a few times in his haste. “Welcome back! You’re just in time to see Obi-Wan beat his own personal record.”

“How exciting,” Plo Koon replied with a warmth that Ahsoka knew meant the master was smiling behind his rebreather and masked eyes. “He did quite well on the unstable bridge. You must be very proud of him.”

“I am,” Ahsoka nodded, her eyes drifting back to her padawan, swinging himself across a complicated web of ropes and hand holds. “We’ve been working on this course for almost two weeks and I think he’s finally starting to get the hang of it.”

“Ah, yes,” Plo Koon agreed, observing the padawan as Obi-Wan dropped down onto another landing, blowing cool air on his roughed-up palms. “Obi-Wan is persistent in his pursuit of perfection.”

“He thinks he has to live up to Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka confessed, feeling a bit guilty at the long shadow her master cast over her padawan. “I keep telling him that there’s no need but he doesn’t listen to me. But then again, if I were in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t listen to me either.”

Laughing, Plo Koon reached over to squeeze Ahsoka’s shoulder. “He will understand in time, Ahsoka. In the meanwhile, all of that practice will serve him well when he is knighted and on his own.”

Ahsoka gasped as Obi-Wan took a tumble, tripping over his own feet into an ungainly sprawl. “Oh… C’mon, Padawan! Get up!”

Ahsoka and Plo Koon watched the rest of Obi-Wan’s run together, the Jedi master as serene and silent in his support as she was noisy and enthusiastic.

By the time Obi-Wan finished, muscle exhaustion and fatigue had set in and he fell off a relatively simple obstacle, landing with a soft whump into the safety pillows around and under the course. He made his way over to a ladder and climbed up out of the pit and up to the final obstacle, a pole slide that had been added because Ki-Adi-Mundi felt they needed an example of “the small mercies of the Force.”

It was every Padawan’s favorite part.

Obi-Wan landed as the ending chime went off and his time flashed up on the holoscreen. At nine minutes minutes and forty seconds, he had the new fastest score of the day and Obi-Wan turned around, searching the audience for Ahsoka who stood up and waved until he saw her. She held gave him another thumbs up and even Master Plo Koon held up a hand to Obi-Wan, who gave them a happy, red-faced grin.

“He’s done very well today,” Plo Koon observed with a pleased tone. “Please convey my congratulations to Obi-Wan for me. I have a Council meeting soon and I must take my leave of you.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said, standing up as the Jedi Master did, bowing to him and receiving one in return. “Thank you for stopping by, Master Plo.”

“It is always a pleasure to watch the future come into being,” Plo Koon replied with his usual low, rumbling warmth before he walked off toward the exit.

Letting out a happy sigh, Ahsoka sat back down and glanced over at the knights and masters sitting next to her. One of them, a dark-haired woman from Akitan III named Master Lia, nodded to her. “Congratulations on Padawan Kenobi’s improved time.”

“Thank you,” Ahsoka answered with pride. “I’m sure Padawan Rast will improve his time as well.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Master Lia replied. They both turned their attention back the course and poor Kit Fisto who had gotten his head tails caught up in the climbing rope and had to be untangled by Master Mundi. Ahsoka was thankful her montrals and lekku were too substantial to be caught up in traps like that when she was younger. She felt bad for poor Kit, who was turning a very embarassed shade of purple as he waited for freedom.

“Hang in there, Kit!” Obi-Wan called from the side of the room as he walked over to Ahsoka, chugging water from a glass bottle like a man dying of thirst. He flopped down next to his master, all smiles and radiant pride. “Hello, Master! Did you see? I’ve got the fastest time by ten whole seconds!”

“Impressive,” Ahsoka agreed, rubbing Obi-Wan’s back. “Master Plo sends his congratulations.”

Obi-Wan tried not to puff up, reminding himself that a proper Jedi was humble and did not brag about his accomplishments but it was so hard, especially after all the hard work he had been putting in with his master during his independent study time. And he had beat his time! What harm would come from being excited about that?

Ahsoka leaned over and nudged Obi-Wan with her shoulder and whispered conspiratorially. “Later. I promise. We’ll celebrate at your favorite noodle shop.”

Obi-Wan tried, he really did, but the Force erupted with delight all around him and he couldn’t quite smother his happiness. Ahsoka chuckled softly and rolled her eyes. “You are terrible. Honestly, you are just like Master Skywalker sometimes.”

“Do you really think so?” her padawan asked, delighted by this praise.

Nodding, Ahsoka wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan. “Yes. I really think so. Now my grand master? He had the best sabaac face in the galaxy.”

“Do you know how to play sabaac, Master?” Obi-Wan asked, finishing off his water bottle and cheering on the next padawan up, Padawan Yuen Rast.

Ahsoka shook her head. “No. But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to learn just in case.”

Obi-Wan agreed and then took his leave to fill up his water bottle and rejoin his classmates until the end of class.

“It must be wonderful to have such a tight bond with your padawan at such an early stage,” Master Lia murmured, her brows drawn into a slight frown as Padawan Rast stumbled through an obstacle, still on his way to beating Obi-Wan’s time on the course despite the slip. “Yuen and I are still feeling our way through things. I envy your relationship.”

Ahsoka looked at her hands for a moment, thinking of how she had an advantage on the Jedi at her side, of how she knew what Obi-Wan was capable of because she had seen it with her own two eyes when she was younger. Master Obi-Wan was clear and distinct in her mind’s eye and Ahsoka had faith that they would make it through somehow as long as they both worked together.

“Just give it time,” Ahsoka finally said, glancing up at Lia beside her. “I know you and Rast will find your way together. Me and my master didn’t get along right away either. It took us about six months to really gel as a pair.”

“Based on stories Yuen shares about his classes with Obi-Wan it rather sounds like you two spent most of your time on the field chasing after pirates and ne’er do wells,” Lia smiled as she stood up. “We should have dinner some time. I would love to hear more about your training methods with Obi-Wan and Yuen needs to spend more time with his age mates and less time with his books.”

“That sounds great!” Ahsoka grinned and bowed to Master Lia as she walked over to where her padawan was recovering from his dash through the obstacle course.

After another ten padawans made their way through the course with various stages of success, Master Mundi dismissed the class and Obi-Wan happily loped back over to Ahsoka, his face bright. “I got fourth place, Master! I took off a whole fifteen seconds!”

“I know!” Ahsoka said, pulling Obi-Wan under her arm for a good and proper hug and possibly a noogie. Yes, definitely a noogie. Yelping in protest, Obi-Wan tried and failed to defend his head from his master’s cheerful assault.

“Master, please! I am fifteen years old and far too old for this!”

“What was that? I should do it again?”

“Master!” Obi-Wan melodramatically complained as they walked off down the hallway and back to their rooms.

As promised, dinner was in a charming little cafe that served a variety of noodle dishes from several different Mid-Rim systems. The cafe was in the Senate District on the corner of a level that was high enough it gave the outside tables an excellent view of the Senate Building. Sometimes Ahsoka would come to the cafe by herself and watch the traffic, tapping notes into her datapad as she ate, trying to piece together all the details she could remember of her life before the Clone Wars and the state of the galaxy. She hoped to find that one key piece of information that would unravel the Sith Lord’s plan, the one move that would change the fate of the galaxy and save her family.

“And that’s when Quinlan fell off the bridge and nearly broke his nose,” Obi-Wan finished his story with a snicker and a wolfish grin. Ahsoka was just starting to get used that expression, the way it would flash into being, bright and sharp but somehow still full of boyish charm and innocent enthusiasm. She couldn’t ever remember Master Obi-Wan smiling like that but then again, they had been in the middle of war when she first met him and Anakin. Even Anakin’s honest smiles were few and far between, practically endangered when compared to the confident smirk he usually greeted the world with.

“Was he all right?” Ahsoka asked, arching an eyebrow at the snicker. “I’m assuming he was?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Obi-Wan assured her, slurping up a mouthful of savory noodles and vegetables. “But he’ll have a nasty bruise. Master Mundi was livid. Actually, I think Master Mundi is always livid.”

Laughing at her padawan’s observation, Ahsoka speared a piece of meat with her fork. “He’s definitely a by-the-book kind of Jedi. I’m pretty sure he’s not our biggest fan on the Council.”

Obi-Wan shrugged, unconcerned with the politicking that went on in the upper echelons of the Order, something Ahsoka found wonderfully refreshing. “If Master Windu likes us then I don’t see what it matters. He does still like us, right? I swear that incident in the Halls of Healing was a mistake! I didn’t mean to flood that room! I thought I was doing as Knight Gallia instructed!”

“Yes, Master Windu still likes us,” Ahsoka chuckled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Honestly, you’re harder on yourself than anyone else in the Temple, Obi-Wan. How many times do I have to tell you to cut yourself some slack?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “Didn’t you want to be the best you could possibly be when you were a padawan learner?”

I just wanted to live to see another day most of the time, Ahsoka thought morosely, her gaze drifting to the Senate Building where the Senate was holding a late night session on the taxation of purse colonies. The Trade Federation was arguing against it, along with several other corporate entities while several older systems, who were already paying taxes on their colones, argued in favor of expanding the tax base.

It was all very dry and boring and Ahsoka wouldn’t have paid it much attention if it wasn’t for the fact that a certain S. Palpatine was trying to mediate an agreement between the two sides. Ahsoka narrowed her eyes and frowned at the domed, blue building in the distance.

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice curious but respectful. “Why don’t you like the Senate? Every time we eat here, there is always a moment when you drift away and your countenance changes.”

Startled out of her brooding, Ahsoka turned back to Obi-Wan, reminding herself once again how perceptive he was. She had known padawan Obi-Wan was smart and observant but she still wasn’t used to him turning that sharp intellect on her on the rare occasion he did.

Ahsoka would have to do a better job of hiding her dark thoughts from her Padawan. For now.

It wasn’t time to tell him the truth.

But the time would come.

Ahsoka was positive of that.

“I don’t trust politicians,” Ahsoka finally confessed, finishing off her meal. “As a group, I mean. An individual politician can be a great person, someone who always tries to do the right thing but… I’ve seen too many fall prey to greed and corruption. It’s… it’s disheartening.”

Obi-Wan nodded, quiet as he processed everything Ahsoka said. She found that endearing, the way he would momentarily withdraw from a conversation to work over everything said and take it all into consideration before moving forward.

Her padawan was so thoughtful and kind. He truly wanted to do what was right, to be the best Jedi he could be. And to realize just how greatly the Clone Wars had warped Master Obi-Wan into the kind of person who would agree to something like the Hardeen deception, to stand by while Ahsoka was ejected from the Order, was heartbreaking.

She had worried about Anakin’s slow descent into the dark while at his side and afterwards but to see just what war and the pressures of winning a losing battle against the dark had done to Obi-Wan Kenobi was somehow worse.

I won’t let that happen. Not this time. We’re going to change all of that, right?

The Force did not answer directly but Obi-Wan’s head came up, a warm, understanding expression on his face. “I understand, Master Ahsoka. Maybe we should look for a different noodle shop?”

Ahsoka shook her head, her eyes soft. “This is your favorite place! Just because I’m setting a poor example for you as a Jedi doesn’t mean we have to find a new place to eat. I’m the adult here, not you. Now finish up your uncha before I decide I’m still hungry.”

With his dinner threatened, Obi-Wan turned his attention away from Ahsoka, who watched him shovel the rest of his dinner into his mouth as politely as he could. There was something charming about her fussy padawan and she was starting to understand why Master Obi-Wan and Anakin had squabbled so often during her time with them. It seemed a certain level of fastidiousness was just second nature to Obi-Wan whereas Anakin had seen that as a waste of time and energy. As long as he had understood the sorting system of his piles of droid parts and tools, what did it matter if it wasn’t arranged in a neat, little line?

Ahsoka fell somewhere in the middle, finding that neatening up her space would help clear out her mind but Obi-Wan’s insistence on a proper way of organizing everything drove her a little crazy every now and then. She now understood it helped him deal with his anxieties and she had to remind herself on more than one occasion that she was the adult in the relationship here and it was important for her to support Obi-Wan in how he chose to cope with his stress.

“Koleyo!” Obi-Wan announced with a wide smile as he pushed his plate back, following the local customs of the shop owners. There was the cheerful traditional reply of thanks in the same language and they stood up, walking up to the service droid to pay for dinner.

“So… Where to next?” Ahsoka asked, feeling particularly guilty and indulgent after being caught mid-brood. “Ice cream?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Ahsoka was about to say “yes, really” when her comm link went off in her pocket. She frowned and pulled it out, walking over to a quiet alleyway between the restaurant and the next shop over. Thumbing open the frequency, Ahsoka answered, Obi-Wan watching her. “This is Knight Tano and Padawan Kenobi.”

“Knight Tano, Padawan Kenobi,” Mace Windu’s ghostly blue figure flickered to life above the comm, his stance wide and confident and his arms behind his back. “I hope I’m not interrupting dinner.”

“No,” Ahsoka glanced at Obi-Wan, who was watching the Jedi Master with round eyes. “We just finished. Obi-Wan set a personal record today on the obstacle course.”

Holo Master Windu turned slightly to Padawan Kenobi, his face an expressionless mask before the faintest quirk of an eyebrow signified his approval. “I’m glad to hear it, Padawan Kenobi. We need you two to return to the Temple, immediately.”

“Immediately?” Ahsoka echoed, puzzled. “Has something happened?”

“We will discuss the details of your assignment upon your return,” Master Windu answered, his gaze returning to Ahsoka. “I trust you can make it back to the Temple in a reasonable amount of time?”

“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Ahsoka said, glancing at a chronometer Obi-Wan pulled out his pocket unasked, their bond already humming with shared thoughts.

“We’ll be waiting for you in the Council Room,” Mace replied with a nod and the holo flickered out of existence.

“Did he say ‘assignment’?” Obi-Wan asked as he tucked his chrono away into a pouch on his belt. “Is that like a mission? Is this our first mission, Master?”

“It sounds like a mission to me,” Ahsoka grinned, feeling wave after wave of nervous excitement flooding her half of the bond, which she returned with a wave of centered calm. “Can I get a rain check on that ice cream, Padawan?”

“It can be our reward for our first successful mission!” Obi-Wan agreed, practically skipping back to the turbo lift that would lead to the train station that would ferry them back to the Temple. “Where do you think they’re sending us? Will it be dangerous? Do I have time to study before we leave? Is it going to be a diplomatic situation? What if it’s pirates?! Quinlan keeps insisting he’s going to be the first of our age group to defeat a pirate.”

“It probably just a little diplomatic squabble,” Ahsoka assured Obi-Wan as they took the lift down to one of the main arteries of Coruscant traffic only to be whisked away by a train back to the Temple and their very first mission briefing as Master and Padawan Learner.

[myurbandream]

Sentinel Wars (2/?)

I finally cleaned up Obi-Wan’s POV from the Star Wars / Sentinel crossover I started., so here it is!

Part 1 | Part 2:

Obi-Wan’s first coherent thought, when he realizes what's just happened, is indignance - Plo never said it felt like this.  The Force is pushing at him, twining around him and Captain Rex, pulling them together in a manner not unlike the creation of a Force bond.  He feels awash in Rex’s emotions, drowning in his presence in the Force and hyper-aware of every point of contact between them.

(mobile users, there’s a cut here!)

At least Obi-Wan isn't the only one taken aback; Captain Rex joins one of the clones behind him in a slew of quiet cursing, and all of them are gathered close around the Captain, twitching and muttering and generally looking baffled at what just occurred.  Anakin is staring open-mouthed back and forth between them.

Obi-Wan tries to settle his racing heart and immediately realizes that he can’t, or at least not easily - he’s having a sympathetic reaction to Captain Rex’s carefully contained panic.  He reaches out a hand for a calming touch, at the same time easing serenity into the bond forming rapidly between them.  That idea backfires, however, the minute his fingertips touch Captain Rex’s bare wrist - skin contact creates a flare in the Force that's so bright he can actually see it with his eyes, not just his mind.  Obi-Wan immediately jerks his hand away, but not before Rex jumps at the sensation.  Both their heart rates soar a little higher.

“Did you see that?” Anakin yelps.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan manages to reply, swallowing hard against the fluttering in his stomach and the way his heart is trying to leap up into his throat.  Captain Rex is obviously trying to calm down, but the clone is still radiating shock and unease in Obi-Wan’s mind.

He looks over the Captain’s shoulder, at the clones who have his back.  He doesn’t want to deprive the Captain of his support system - literally, in this case, since they’d kept Captain Rex from collapsing to the deck a few minutes ago - but the two of them need to have a conversation, and Obi-Wan would prefer it to be as private as possible.

A compromise, then.  “Gentlemen,” Obi-Wan tells the gathered clones around them, “I would appreciate a moment of privacy, if you would be so kind.  Anakin, Cody, please stay,” he adds, before anyone can start to protest.

Cody shoulders his way through the crowd to the Captain’s side and puts one hand on his elbow.  The other clones linger supportively around Rex for a moment before they step away, and the room slowly empties out.  Cody leans in, murmuring in the Captain’s ear, something too soft for Obi-Wan to hear - Sentinel-soft, and that is definitely going to take some getting used to.

Of course Obi-Wan had known it was possible for Jedi to bond with one of the Sentinel-clones, but somehow he never thought it would happen to him, not now that they’re so many months into the war.  Plo had bonded with his second, Commander Wolffe, within half an hour of meeting the man, and then it was Quinlan, and Luminara, and then three Knights Obi-Wan was only passingly familiar with, and then somehow within the first few weeks they’d had several hundred Jedi suddenly acting as anchors for Sentinels under their command.

When it hadn’t immediately happened for Obi-Wan as well, he’d thought he was in the clear.  For Force’s sake, he’s spent the past couple months practically living in Cody’s pocket; if Cody wasn’t going to sync with him, why should he worry about the possibility from any of the other clone Sentinels?

Except apparently that was faulty thinking, because here they are.

“Is this what I think it is?”  Anakin asks as the last of the other clones leave the room.

Obi-Wan just nods, watching as Cody talks with Captain Rex.  They’re within arms’ reach of him and yet he can’t hear a word they’re saying.  He doesn’t want to intrude on their conversation, but he does want to make sure the Captain is alright... if that’s even possible in these circumstances.

Cody is standing close, one hand on Rex’s back and the other gripping his elbow gently, his head tilted down, talking slowly and firmly, eyes on the Captain’s face.  He looks serious, but also calm and supportive.  Cody is like that with all the younger troopers under his command, acting as a protective older brother.  It’s a trait Obi-Wan has immense respect for.

The Captain hasn’t taken his eyes off Obi-Wan since their hands first touched, and Obi-Wan meets that golden gaze evenly, trying to remain impassive in the face of the Captain’s visible anxiety - hunched shoulders, teeth gnawing at his lower lip, eyes a bit wide even now, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.  The clone’s emotions are shining like a beacon to Obi-Wan’s Force senses.

He tries again to reach Captain Rex empathically, sending a wave of calm through his own mind and down the bright, sparking trail of the bond that’s formed between them and then for good measure he radiates that feeling out around him, filling the whole room with a deliberate, meditative blanket of peace.  Obi-Wan forcefully slows his breathing, in defiance of his still-jumping heartbeat, holding Captain Rex’s eyes with his the entire time.  The Captain mutters something to Cody that makes the Commander glance at Obi-Wan with raised brows.  Cody gives him a curt nod of approval, still murmuring to his brother, too softly to be heard.   Captain Rex’s breathing slows to match Obi-Wan’s, and his heart stops pounding quite so madly in his chest.

“Better,” Cody pronounces at normal volume, looking between them.  He gives Obi-Wan a stern look.  “Although from now on it needs to be you talking him down.  You can’t help him from over there.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan agrees, feeling the bite of shame at his own hesitance. Cody is right - he needs to be an anchor for the Captain, not just stand nearby like a nerf chewing cud while Cody does all the work.  He steps closer, reaching out with his hand again, and is gladdened when Captain Rex reaches back, touching their fingertips together.  There’s no blinding flash of Force-light this time, but instead a warm tingling that feels like bubbles under his skin.  Obi-Wan pulls his hand away slowly, rubbing his fingertips together and looking back up to the identical brown eyes of the two clones.

“I don’t know how to be a Sentinel’s Guide,” Obi-Wan tells them both plainly.  He knows the basics, from his anthropology classes as a Padawan, and he read the hastily-assembled packet of information about the clone Sentinels that went out in the first month of the war, when the bondings started happening by the dozens each day, but it’s obviously not enough to really understand how his life is going to change now.  “I know it’s a vital part of your existence, and I want to learn how to be what you need, Captain.  I’ll need your help, your advice - both of you,” he says, including Cody in the request.  “This is new territory for me, but you’ve lived with these abilities your whole lives.  Tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best to help you.”

“We’ll-”  Captain Rex stops, swallows, clears his throat.  “We’ll figure it out, sir.”

“What does this do to the command structure?” Anakin interjects, hovering at Obi-Wan’s side.  “Are you gonna have to separate from the 501st, Rex?

Obi-Wan has to fight the urge to curse out loud, even as he feels a spike of panic from Rex.  He hadn’t even thought that far ahead, but Anakin is right.  Captain Rex might be the only Sentinel-clone synced to a Jedi who is not immediately adjacent to him in the chain of command.  That complicates things immensely.

The Captain - Major, if Anakin is serious about promoting him - needs to be with Obi-Wan, but he also needs to be with his troopers.  If he’s that apt to a command role, it would be a waste to remove him, especially if there’s a position that needs filling and the Captain is qualified for it.  And it wouldn’t be right to make Captain Rex some kind of honorary Commander, or to jump him up to take someone else’s position in the 7th Sky - Obi-Wan refuses to replace good soldiers out of favoritism - but that leaves Rex with no purpose other than tagging along after Obi-Wan like a youngling at their parent’s workplace, on the off-chance that he might be displaced by his senses.

“Captain,” Obi-Wan ventures quietly, thinking through the problems as he speaks.  “How long since your senses manifested?”

“Five years and three- no, four months, sir,” Captain Rex answers promptly, letting none of his worry show in his voice or face.

“And you’ve not had any problems with your senses before now?”

The Captain looks away and bites his lip for a moment, and Obi-Wan feels an upswing in anxiety from him, but then he squares his shoulders and meets Obi-Wan’s eyes firmly.  “Not too much, sir.  I’ve zoned out a few times since the war started.  Only once during a live combat action.  Back on Kamino, a few times a month ever since I manifested, but it’s not hard for any brother to shake me out of it, sir.  I’ve been functioning just fine on my own.”

“Is that likely to change, given…”  Obi-Wan gestures vaguely.  “Given what’s just occurred?”

Captain Rex shrugs and looks to Cody, who shrugs back at him.  They have a silent conversation of minute facial expressions before turning back to face Obi-Wan.

“Normally I’d say no,” Captain Rex answers him.  “For two brothers- I mean, two clones synced together, there’s no physical damage or increased instability from being separated.  Being partnered together isn’t a… a constant need, it’s for the safety of the Sentinel during combat.  We’re war clones, sir.  In a fight we can’t afford to be stuck in our heads for even a few seconds, or we’re dead.  A partner is there to snap you out of it before you take a blaster bolt to the face.  Synced partners can rouse their Sentinel a lot faster than any other person, that’s all.  But for a clone and a Jedi...” the Captain trails off, frowning thoughtfully, and finally shakes his head.  “I don’t know for certain, sir.”

“Then what do we do, Rex?” Anakin asks, worrying at the clasps of the glove on his right arm.  “I don’t want to lose you as a Captain - or a Major - I mean, obviously, you’re doing great, I want to keep you - but I don’t want you to get killed because you don’t have a partner, either.”

“That’s your choice, Commander Skywalker.”

Cody opens his mouth with a scowl, but Obi-Wan beats him to it.  “Actually, Captain Rex, it’s your choice.”

“I don’t get to decide what my post is, sir,” Rex protests, but it’s half-hearted.  Obi-Wan can see him thinking, working through the implications that Obi-Wan just considered himself.  It’s a messy problem, and Obi-Wan might have the final authority on the solution, but-

“I refuse to dictate your life any more than I already do.”  He holds Rex’s eyes, putting steel in his voice.  “If you want to stay on with the 501st, you can.  You’ll keep your promotion to Major, if you choose to accept it, along with any other commendations you earn.  It’s your risk to take, and your right to decide how you want to live your life.”

“And if I decide not to risk it?”

“Then I will find a place for you,” Obi-Wan says firmly, although he’s not remotely sure what that place might be.  Cody and Captain Rex both look skeptical, but the Captain nods his acceptance of that promise.  He chews at his bottom lip for a moment, considering.

“Do I have to decide right now, sirs?”

“No,” Anakin says forcefully, and Obi-Wan shakes his head in concurrence when the Captain looks to him as well.

“Decide now or later, it doesn’t matter, and whatever you decide doesn’t have to be permanent,” Obi-Wan promises.  “You can change your mind.  Stay with the 501st if you want, and if things change, I’ll always be happy to make a place for you.”

After another minute of deliberation, Obi-Wan can feel when Rex makes a decision - uncertainty coalesces into determination in his mind.  Rex takes a fortifying breath and looks between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

“I’d like to spend some time with you, General Kenobi, if that’s alright,” he says firmly, belying the hint of nerves Obi-Wan can still feel from him.  “I want to make sure I’m properly synced with you, and figure out the limits of what I can do.  After that… I’d like to return to the 501st.  If you can afford to lose me for a few days, Commander Skywalker?”

“I’ll keep your bunk reserved for you,” Anakin agrees, and then he grins.  “Actually, if you want to, you can pick a new one when you come back, because you’ll be a Major by then, at least if I have anything to say about it.”

Captain Rex manages a small smile at that.  “Thank you, Commander.”

“If that’s decided, we’d best go about our duties.”  Obi-Wan nods to Anakin.  “Padawan, take the rest of your men back to the Resolute and we’ll coordinate our hyperspace route.  We need to check up on the outposts along the route to Kamino as well.  If the Separatists are ahead of us on the way to Kamino, we need to know about it.”

The four of them leave the briefing room, where Anakin goes left and collects the crowd of officers in blue-painted armor that are waiting in the corridor.  They watch but make no comment as Captain Rex follows Obi-Wan and Cody to the right, heading to the bridge of the Negotiator.  Cody and Rex fall into step behind him, perfectly attuned the way all the Sentinel clones are, but Obi-Wan still feels the tug of Rex’s mind, catching his attention the way Cody never has.  The background hum of an empathic Force-bond is comforting in a way Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine too closely.

He knows Sentinel-Guide bonds are lifelong, but still, he doesn’t dare let himself get used to it.  Obi-Wan has a bad habit of becoming too attached for his own good.  He doesn’t need another complication like that in his life.

~~ to be continued??~~