#you have to understand that i fuckin love knights so these are easily some of my fave character designs...

[reds-skull]

Messy Cyberknights sketches because I am tired of everything+the English and Scottish banners of the respective knighthoods

I can't choose a favorite I love them all <3

[phoenixyfriend]

OKAY so on the topic of Star Wars takes wrt “character ends up in an A/B/O universe where they’re an omega, but they were previously a cis male in their canon”

@atagotiak and I had some Thoughts on discord

So, obviously, Anakin would make a good omega and he’s also incredibly murdery. Foregone conclusion that we're using him for this.

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse. He shows up JUST as the war is starting. Canon timeline is in the third year of the war (he’s 22), but whatever dumped him into omegaverse also tossed him back a few years. No de-aging, just a bit of mismatched timeline stuff.

He's... really good at war, and clearly a Jedi, so the Temple just kind of goes "WELL OKAY THEN, SURE, YOU'RE IN, EVERYONE PRETEND HE'S BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME." The Jedi, by and large, don't care about omegaverse dynamics beyond 'what do you need, medically, to be happy and healthy' and 'what do you need to be aware of so you can be prepared for biases you encounter in the field?’

None of the civilian natborns (mainly politicians) want to put him on the field because of those biases. Anakin, being Anakin, is VERY blatantly an omega in scent, has never been on suppressants (because it wasn't a thing he fucking NEEDED), is incredibly emotional as a person, loves kids, etc.

Like, nobody wants an omega fighting a war anyway, but THIS one is like PINNACLE omega, and those awful Jedi are making him FIGHT just because he's good at stab!

The Jedi: Actually, it's because he's got several years of war experience that we don't, and he's a good tactician that works well with the clones-- Coruscant: You MONSTERS The Jedi: Look, we gave him the option to not stab and he looked absolutely devastated. Anakin, several days earlier: You don’t want me? I’m not good enough??? Jedi: Also he can beat up at least half the temple.

He doesn't know a damn thing about dynamics, but he DOES know that sometimes he's so horny he wants to stab HARDER. The clones are largely disinterested in their generals' dynamics because between mostly-Mando* trainers and no-dynamic Kaminoans, they only really care if a person can shoot.

* Mandalore approves of Fighty Omegas. As far as (traditional) Mandalore is concerned, you want an omega that will kill the threats to your children as well as you do.

Anakin: You know more about being an omega than I do. Rex: ...I'm an alpha. Anakin: Yeah. Let that one sink in a bit.

We have two options for Obi-Wan!

Omegaverse local Obi-Wan (beta) has never met this man before, and is very unnerved that the immediate default reaction Anakin has to his presence is releasing Family pheromones as if Obi-Wan is his DAD and like. This strange, too-tall man from another dimension has got absolutely NO control over what he projects in the Force OR in his dynamic.

Obi-Wan was ALSO transplanted from canon to omegaverse, and is also an omega, for contrast reasons. He is nice and friendly and and likes poetry and that sort of thing... but also he has the highest dismemberment count in the movies. Also he doesn’t prioritize romance.

We went with the second one because it's hilarious.

Someone watching them spar: Wow, omegas from that universe are terrifying.

As previously mentioned, now with some tweaking to account for both: Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don't exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood. (It's mostly not theirs.)

Nobody realizes either one is an omega until they "naturalize" to this dimension and Anakin goes into heat... and doesn't realize it, actually, because his primary symptom is heightened protectiveness and aggression. Everyone else with the right nose realizes, because the man has no control over his pheromone production, but Anakin? No. He just stabs. He’s angry and horny and he will cut someone.

Ahsoka has no reaction to human pheromones but basically everyone smells Anakin's "my child!" reaction to her, so... Cool. Have a padawan, we guess.

Anakin ends up sparring a lot with Aayla and Ahsoka, because only humans and near humans have dynamics, so these two don't REACT to the pheromones situation.

(Palpatine is a Kindly Old Beta who tries to treat Anakin the way he EXPECTS Anakin wants to be treated, which is. Not. Accurate.)

(Anakin hates it.)

I'm just so in love with "An omega can't fight." "You wanna fuckin' bet?"

There are plenty of omega Jedi, by the way, it's just... most of them can keep it relatively low-key instead of Anakin's jet-engine broadcast. Some, if they're known to be omega, probably take advantage of being underestimated, like Obi-Wan probably (and especially a version of Obi-Wan that was always an omega, unlike this version). They have a very different way of presenting themselves than Anakin, who's not subtle about being an omega and also not subtle about being all aggressive and stabby.

At one point, Anakin has to protect some Very Traditional Individuals who get all "Stay back, Omega, it's not safe!" and he's just... so tired of this shit. “You are squishy civilians and I'm a trained Jedi Knight and accomplished GAR General who's killed more people in one sitting than there are in this entire palace. Sit the fuck down and let me do my job.”

It starts making the rounds that Anakin insisted on fighting in person, and the rumors shift from "how dare the Jedi force an omega to fight" and over into things that are deeply hurtful in-universe in the vein of "broken omega" and some people try to say it to his face but like...

He didn't grow up here.

He doesn't care.

Say that to one of his friends and he's going to rip out your spleen, probably, but say it to him and he's just staring at you flatly and asking if that's a negative on getting away from the encroaching battle droids, sir?

"You're rather unpleasant for an omega, aren't you?" [deeply offensive] "I literally could not give less of a fuck about your opinion. Move."

It's not that there aren't omegas that act like Anakin, either, it's just that most of them aren't, you know, Jedi who regularly interact with the upper crust, or capable of his level of destruction. Unbeknownst to Anakin, everyone clocks him as Outer Rim based on his behavior, well before his accent gives him away, and certainly before he mentions he's from Tatooine, because Core Omegas Don't Act Like That.

Someone they meet in a more diplomatic setting says something decently passive-aggressive about how at least Obi-Wan acts more like how an Omega should. Then a battle breaks out for some reason, and... well. Anakin and Obi-Wan cause such a scandal by keeping score of kills in a battle, don’t you know?

Turns out sending Anakin to fight Ventress is great because she keeps expecting him to react a certain way but NO he's here to STAB.

I like the idea that Obi-Wan's favorite opponent these days is Grievous because the cyborg doesn't have a nose, and thus gives zero fucks about dynamics or heats. Dooku is a rich old man who has opinions heavily influenced by Sith Juice Making Him More of a Dick, and the Dathomiri can smell dynamics even if they don't have them, and so they have biases about those things. Meanwhile, Grievous is just there to Kill, and Obi-Wan genuinely appreciates the lack of commentary on his dynamic.

Dooku’s probably an alpha, or a beta who's used the whole "we are more level-headed" thing as one of several angles to keep himself the public face and supreme commander of the CIS.

On to more fluffy things that have less to do with political biases.

There's a lot of "I'm upset that my loved ones don't know me," but also please understand the appeal of Obi-Wan marching up to Quinlan like "Yes, hello, I understand you've been read in on the full situation behind myself and my former padawan. I was close friends with your alternate universe self, which I feel is necessary disclosure before I propose the following: Would you like to join me for my upcoming heat, as I have minimal experience with the dynamics situation and even fewer people I actually trust, and I believe I can put my faith in you to treat it as casually as necessary while still having control and respect for my person."

(The Team is in a fairly safe place to process stuff, but having sudden unexpected changes to your biology has gotta be a little traumatizing, on top of ending up in a universe where none of your friends know you and people have a whole host of unfamiliar forms of sexism to point at you.)

Obi-Wan, who wasn't quite touch-averse but was much more easily overwhelmed by physical contact than Anakin (who craved it), suddenly finds his body switching gears and insisting on cuddles with Trusted Loved Ones, which is.... mostly Anakin, on account of nobody else really knowing him yet. Also Ahsoka, who is aware that she's something of a replacement for her alt-universe self, but Anakin explained it as "I love you so much no matter which dimension I'm in or what you're like, and I'd like to get to know you the way I got know her."

(It's rather eloquent for Anakin. He got Obi-Wan to help him draft up the script for when he pitched taking on omegaverse Ahsoka as a padawan.)

Anakin gets a more intensely sexual heat than 'usual' at one point for Reasons (IDK it could be as innocuous as 'we got better food than the usual rations and my body is reacting to the higher fat content with the belief that it's safer to have a baby now'), which nobody takes a whole lot of notice of because they're in a WAR, and also this is only his fourth one so it's not like he's got a lot to compare it to... except then the predominantly alpha clones can't stop themselves from reacting to the pheromones, mostly by wandering past his door and asking if he needs anything, offering up alpha-scented blankets and stuff for the nest to soothe the hormones, bringing snacks and electrolyte drinks, and like, Anakin is flattered, really, but fuck off please.

(He got a warning from medical a few hours before it hit that it would be different, so he actually does have alpha-scented fabrics to help him out. Apparently that's a thing you can just ask friends for, so he asked Rex if he had anything on hand that he could spare. He now has one of Rex’s recently-used sheets and a bodyglove in the nest.)

(Anakin has no idea how to feel about the nesting instinct, but at least it’s warm.)

Tia asked "Oh hey, who has the scared and horny reaction to his carnage?" and like.

Listen. I'm not saying I've been low-key imagining this as Rex being a very subby alpha who's really into Anakin's whole Thing but...

At one point Anakin gets injured in a way that requires painkillers and he ends up whining to the point of almost crying about the fact that nobody is cuddling him right now in medbay and Kix just gives up and comms Ahsoka to come hug her weird older brother.

And Then There Is Purring.

That’s a Thing Now.

Rex ends up in the pile somehow. He came over to check on Things and ended up yanked in by half-asleep, half-high Anakin, who has a grip like an octopus and no impulse control and is purring like a pod motor while NUZZLING HIM.

There’s a lot of blackmail photos featuring Rex’s very intense blush as he’s cuddled by his commander (giggling at him) and general (clinging like a tooka and rubbing himself all over).

Anakin is deeply offended that ANYONE thinks he'd want to get pregnant by just any old person, NO he needs to fall in LOVE there needs to be EMOTIONAL DRAMA and if Padme won't have him (apparently she's in a relationship and no he's not BITTER) then he'll find someone else to have a whirlwind romance with!

People think Anakin's a slut because he can't control his pheromone production (he has NO practice and for health reasons he can't go on suppressants) so he always smells open and ready for flirtations, which Obi-Wan also has to a somewhat lesser degree (he's older so his body just naturally produces less), and then someone tries to cross a boundary and grabs his ass and ANYWAY Anakin has to now fill out an incident report for breaking a civilian's arm.

Again.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Drinking Buddies

Masterlist

--- If Jason ends up going home with someone, call me and I’ll come pick you up.

Y/N read the text from her boyfriend with a smirk. He’d sent it 20 minutes ago, but she was just now seeing it.

It was the only message Dick had sent her all night, always trying to give her the independence and space she needed.

Dick was always amused by Y/N and Jason’s little “club.” It even became an ongoing joke within the family. But Dick also knew that there was something sincere underneath it, as well.

Dick realized early in their relationship that there were some things in Y/N’s past he could never fully understand or help her with. Yes, he had his own trauma. But it didn’t involve abuse. His parents had died, but there wasn’t a day before that when Dick felt unloved by them.

Jason and Y/N had parallel childhoods: abusive parents, fighting to survive on the streets of Gotham, robbed of a happy and sheltered adolescence. Unfortunately, they were both victims of the darkness that Gotham held. The same darkness that drove both of them to risk their lives to stop it from continuing.

Outsiders probably thought it was weird for a man to let his girlfriend go out with his younger brother alone. Especially when said brother was as tall and handsome and broody as Jason Todd. But Dick felt more comfortable doing that than when Y/N had girls’ nights. At least with Jason, Dick knew that Y/N would be safe.

But Dick also knew Jason needed a friend just as much as Y/N did.

--- I doubt that will happen. But I promise I’ll call you if it does. 

Y/N typed back.

--- You’re a freakishly good wing woman. Don’t underestimate yourself. 

Dick texted back instantly. 

--- Have fun. Be safe. I love you.

He double texted.

--- I love you, too. 

Y/N answered before slipping her phone back into her small purse.

“He’s so obsessed with you,” Jason commented without needing to ask who had her smiling down at her phone.

But Y/N wasn’t taking the bait that easily. “Good thing I’m obsessed with him, too.”

“He’s probably sitting at home and crying because he misses you so much.”

Y/N punched Jason in the arm. And it felt like punching a wall rather than a human being with skin, muscle, and fat. “Stop being mean. I didn’t come out with you to listen to Dick get ripped on.”

Jason gave her a crooked smirk. “You’re right. I wanted a drinking buddy.”

“Yes,” she agreed. But then she narrowed her eyes. “But you always wanted to talk to me about a woman.”

“I never said that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have female intuition.” But her amusement and teasing faded. “Is it Artemis?”

Jason’s body tensed and gulped down the rest of his whiskey. 

“That obvious, huh?” He asked slowly, his embarrassment was easily caught.

“No, it’s not, actually. I’ve just been paying attention.”

“I told you I hated her and that she drives me to insanity,” Jason scoffed.

“Yeah, and I knew that was your sexual tension speaking,” Y/N teased with a tilt of her head and a smirk before taking a sip of her drink.

Jason chuckled at that. “You’re not wrong…”

“So,” Y/N leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms with interest. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s an Amazon. And a badass. She’s tall – taller than me, actually. Red hair. Doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Loves to pick a fight. Loves to get her way even more.” Jason sighed. “And…she’s beautiful,” he finished with. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

“OK. Now that you’ve basically given me her dating app bio,” Y/N ridiculed. “Get to the good shit.”

Jason glared at her.

But he took in a deep breath. “We’ve been…” he didn’t know how to put it politely.

“Fucking?” Y/N offered.

“Fine! Yes, alright?” He growled. “It was just casual at first. Friends with benefits – or whatever.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her laugh from escaping. 

“Jason, even though you try really hard to pretend to be a heartless hard-ass, you and I both know that you’re actually a hopeless romantic. So why you thought you were capable of having a fuck buddy, without falling in love with them, is beyond me.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration. “I know. I fucking know, OK?”

Y/N finally decided to have some sympathy and gripped his shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, bud.”

“Am I? I hate this. I feel like such an idiot. I don’t want to mess this up. But I also don’t want to keep pretending like I’m not in love with her.”

It was moments like these where Y/N truly forgot that Jason was also the Red Hood, one of Gotham’s most feared vigilantes. He was also a murderer, if she was being transparent. But right now, he just seemed like a lost young man, terrified of his own feelings.

“Why don’t you get us another round and I’ll put some music on the jukebox? And then we’ll figure out your shit,” she offered.

Jason smiled. “Deal.”

There were at one of the roughest dive bars in Gotham.

Jason was a regular – as was almost everyone else that was there.

He already made his reputation known. 

And even though on the outside he looked like a helpless pretty boy, the bar patrons learned rather quickly not to pick a fight with Jason Todd. Not that most of them wanted to, he was a perfectly polite guy and tipped far too nicely for the shit service he got there.

Y/N made her way to the vintage jukebox and started scrolling through her options.

“What are you picking? Justin Bieber?” A froggish voice said to her right.

Y/N paused to give him a glare. “Is that because I’m a woman?”

This was negging. And Y/N hated this pick up tactic more than any cheesy line.

The man shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you put on something good.”

“Oh, I will,” Y/N snapped before turning her attention back to the songs.

“How about I help you DJ and then you let me buy you a drink?” He muttered far too closely to her ear.

It made a chill go up her spine and she suddenly felt ill.

“No thanks.”

“Come on. One drink,” he grabbed her wrist.

Y/N whipped her attention back to him and tried to tug her wrist away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she growled.

But his grip tightened.

“Get your hands off her,” Jason barked suddenly from behind her.

Jason had at least 5 inches on the guy and was probably twice his weight.

It was enough to make the man immediately drop Y/N’s wrist. “Maybe don’t leave your girl alone…”

“She’s not ‘my girl.’ She’s my brother’s girlfriend,” Jason corrected with a glare.

He wanted to say more, but he could tell by Y/N’s body language that she didn’t want to start a scene, hating all the eyes that were already on them.

The man had given up. 

But not before both of them heard him mutter, “Fuckin’ whore.”

Without missing a beat, Jason punched him in the face.

The hit knocked the guy off his feet and possibly knocked out a few teeth. 

So much for not causing a scene…

“Say another word about her and I won’t use my hands next time,” Jason practically spit down to him. 

Then he slyly opened up his jacket to show that he had a gun on him.

The guy didn’t need to hear anything else. He jumped to his feet and tried not to run out of the place.

A beat passed before Y/N erupted into laughter.

“Oh, Jason! Oh, my knight in shining armor! You saved me!” Y/N put the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically as she mocked him.

“I should’ve let him grope you,” Jason mumbled as he led them back to their seats.

They both knew he didn’t mean it.

“Dick’s been showing me some self defense, you know.” Y/N beamed proudly as she took a sip of her new drink.

The bartender came over and silently offered them a free round of shots, proving that he’d seen the exchange. And this was his way of apologizing for their troubles.

Jason nodded his head in thanks before handing one of them to Y/N.

“Yeah?” He played dumb.

She nodded excitedly.

They clinked their shot glasses together before throwing them back.

“You know Dick would have my ass if I hadn’t intervened, right?” He asked her.

She sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s overprotective like that.”

“I’d be the same way,” Jason agreed.

“Even if it was with an Amazon, who was bigger and stronger and had lived for hundreds of years?” Y/N teased, reminding him that she wasn’t done talking about his love life.

“Even then,” he smirked.

The night went on as normal. 

Y/N asked Jason a million questions about Artemis. 

And together, they came up with a game plan.

————————————

Dick was working on his computer.

Gray sweatpants on. No shirt. A couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table where his feet were propped up.

He wanted to lie to himself and believe he was waiting up for Y/N to make sure she got home safe. But he knew Jason would die before he left anything happen to her – especially on his watch.

No, Dick didn’t bother trying to go to sleep because he basically couldn’t when Y/N was gone. 

Even if he was in bed and she was still up working or walking around the apartment, it was like Dick could feel her presence and that was enough. He needed her to sleep, even if she wasn’t right next to him.

Dick smiled when he heard the loud clattering of keys failing to match with the slot of the lock.

Finally the apartment door opened.

“Special delivery for Richard John Grayson!” Y/N screamed in a slur before he even could see her.

“Shh!” Jason hushed quickly. “He’s probably sleeping.”

But when they rounded the corner, Jason relaxed at the sight of Dick being wide awake.

Y/N was piggybacking Jason with a drunk smile.

“Looks like you two had fun,” Dick commented with a laugh.

“So much fun,” Y/N agreed.

But then she was squirming and Jason realized she wanted off. He released his protective grip on the back of her thighs and carefully dropped her to her feet.

Y/N sprinted to her boyfriend and tackled him into a hug on the couch.

Thankfully Dick saw this coming and had quickly moved the laptop off his lap before she crushed it.

“Well hello to you too,” Dick chuckled as she wrapped her body on top of his like a koala bear.

He kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair.

“I’m very tired. And Jason wouldn’t get me Taco Bell,” she whined.

Jason looked offended and held his hands up in surrender. “I did try to get you Taco Bell, but it was closed.”

“He’s lying,” Y/N whispered.

“OK,” Dick managed to suppress his laughter. “How about we get you into bed and maybe chug some water?” Dick asked her softly.

She just nodded into his neck.

“Alright. Here we go,” Dick warned her before he managed to lift both of them off of the couch and carry her to their bedroom.

He helped her out of her clothes and then got her into one of his big t-shirts, not bothering with shorts or pants. He managed to convince her to take out her contacts before he handed her a makeup removal wipe. Then he very nicely asked her to drink some water for him.

“I’m gonna go say bye to Jason and then I’ll be right back,” he whispered as he tucked her into bed.  

Y/N sleepily nodded. “Jason punched a creepy dude for me. So be extra nice to him, K?”

Dick sighed.

Of course Jason did.

When Dick walked out of the bedroom, his younger brother was chugging a glass of water in their kitchen.

“You punched a dude?” Dick asked as he crossed his arms and gave him a suspicious look.

Jason shrugged. “Just another asshole who didn’t know the word no.”

“Thanks. For always looking out for her, I mean.”  

Jason nodded.

“You spending the night?” Dick asked.

They purposely rented a place that had a guest bedroom. It was rather common for someone from his family to crash. A lot of the time it was someone hiding from Bruce out of spite and needed some space from the manor.

“Nah. I just wanted to make sure she got home. I’m walking back to my place.”

Dick nodded, expecting that to be his response.

But Jason seemed to be lingering for some reason.

“You OK?” Dick asked him after a few moments.

“Yeah! Yeah, I just…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How do you make sure you don’t fuck it up?”

Jason didn’t need to clarify that ‘it’ was Dick’s relationship with Y/N.

Dick scratched the back of his head. This wasn’t a usual subject for him and Jason. They almost never talked about women with each other.

“I guess I just…” he thought about it for a moment. “I’m honest with her. So she never questions where we’re at. She always knows how I feel. And then it’s never scary for her.”

Jason nodded his head, clearly deep in thought as he mulled over Dick’s answer.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he finally said his goodbyes.

“Get home safe, yeah?”

Jason scoffed. “Always do.”

Dick locked the door behind his brother.

When he made his way back to the bedroom, Y/N appeared to be passed out.

But when Dick crawled into the other side, she instantly moved to him and placed a kiss on his bare chest.

“Hi,” she sighed sleepily.

“Hi,” he kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her. “What’s up with Jason?”

She smiled with her eyes closed. “Can’t tell you. It’s club business.”

Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head.

He tickled her sides. 

“Noooo,” Y/N whined as she buried her face into his chest.

Dick only stopped because her reaction was so adorable.

“I’m kidding,” she breathed her surrender. “Your brother…is in love.”

“In love, huh?” Dick said in awe, processing the idea. 

“And what advice did you give him?” He asked.

But when he looked down, he realized Y/N was now actually asleep.

Dick kissed her cheek and mentally reminded himself to run to the store early tomorrow so he could make them a greasy breakfast. He could only assume Y/N was going to need it with the inevitable hangover from a night drinking with Jason Todd.

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

Guess I wasn’t finished with them yet 😏

Let me know what you think. And I’ll see if I want to keep doing these. 

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[writinglizards]

Make me Happy

Summary: "I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous." - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein He is created. He is abandoned. He is found.

Read on Ao3

The first thing he knows is agony.

He feels set on fire from the inside, bright white pain arcing through his veins. He cries out, voice hoarse. The sharpness of it ceases as quickly as it came, but the ache persists.

A clatter to his left draws his attention. He shifts. Distantly, he’s aware of the scratch and shift of the rough-hewn shirt and trousers he’s dressed in, but there are larger concerns, at the moment. His limbs feel awkward but otherwise cooperative, so sits up.

There is a man across the room with his back pressed against the counter. White hair, a beard. The man’s face is drawn in an expression he can’t parse. Beneath the man’s feet are shards of glass.

He doesn't understand where he is or what's going on. He opens his mouth to speak--and finds he doesn't know the words to communicate this. He makes a quiet, wordless sound, questioning. He hopes it's enough for the man to understand. He so wants answers.

In response, the man jolts for the door.

He starts at the abrupt movement, makes another quiet noise of surprise, reaches out a hand toward him, wait, please--

The man makes a shrill noise, "Stay away, you, you--" he flings the door open after a brief scrabbling with the lock and bolts, a high pitched terrified noise leaving his throat. He throws the door closed behind him, but it hits the doorframe and bounces back, hard.

He follows because he doesn't know what else to do. The other man is scared. Should he be scared?

He lets the smell of terror, sickly and awful, lead him down a spiral staircase and out a partly concealed door onto the street where he's abruptly hit with an overwhelming wave of scents and sounds. It's too much for him to understand; all he knows is he needs to find the man again. He hopes he can help.

He sees someone, not the man from the room, on the street a few feet away. He approaches, timid. He's trying to work out how to ask what he wants to know--where did the man from the room go?--when he catches the other's attention.

"What the--what the fuck?" He doesn't understand the words, but the tone--the man spins on his heel and sprints away, terrified. It catches the attention of several people up the street. The first man was scared, but these men--help, maybe?

He takes a few slow steps in their direction, still trying to figure out how to ask what he wants to know when he catches the glint of steel. He freezes. He takes quick stock of their expressions, the naked weapons in their grips, and hesitates.

"You'll get the fuck out of here if you know what's good for you, monster." He doesn't understand, doesn't know how to respond in a way that will ease the aggression of their posture. He just wants help.

"Well? Get," one of the men shouts, rapping the flat of his blades together. It makes a harsh sound, makes him whine with how the sharp noise hurts. He ducks his head, cups his hands over his ears to try and make the hurt stop. "I said get," the man shouts again, repeats the movement of his weapons. He keens, a low, quiet sound full of pain. He doesn't understand--

"You got to the count of fucking three," another says, and he doesn't wait for them to make the noise again. He runs.

Every person he sees in his mad dash down the street and away from the pain reacts similarly. Either they flee or they bare steel and make threats, loud and angry. The mixing scents, the noises, his own fear, it's all too much. He doesn't know where he is or where he's going. He just runs.

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

By the time the sun is beginning to rise, he's finally broken out of the rows and rows of buildings and into the trees, where he runs until his lungs burn and his feet hurt before he collapses in the shade at the base of a tree. He doesn't know where he is or what's going on, doesn't understand the fear and hostility of the people he'd seen. He sits there, somewhere in the middle of the forest, and finally feels it hit him. He doesn't know, he doesn't understand. He sits and he cries, deep chest wracking sobs, until he's too tired to keep his eyes open. He curls himself up small and tight in the roots of the tree, and sleeps.

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

He's woken some indeterminate time later, to the sound of footsteps. Lots of them. The sky is going grey at the edges, so he knows he must have slept a while. There's shouting coming from the direction he came from yesterday, words he can't understand in a tone he can--they sound like the men who made the awful noise.

"If you see that fuckin beast, just kill 'em. No need to leave him loose to terrorize the city again."

“Nah, the mage wants ‘em. Said--”

“I know what he said and I’m saying just kill ‘em.”

They're not that far. He knows enough now that he doesn't want to run into these people, doesn't want a repeat of last night. He rises very quietly, and treks farther into the forest, away from the sounds of the approaching men. He'll walk all night if he has to.

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

He walks until he can't hear them any longer, and then he keeps walking, for good measure. He walks until he stumbles across another group of buildings, much smaller than the one he'd fled last night. He lingers at the edge of the trees, watching a trio of young women leaning against a wooden fence not far, talking. One of the women has something she appears to be eating in her hand, and his own stomach growls loudly in reminder that he has eaten nothing since...he doesn't know when.

These women look nothing like the men with their weapons, which is the only reason he steps out of his hiding spot in the trees, starts towards them.

"Sara, look--" one of the women catches sight of him and goes pale. She steps backward, hands shaking, and he freezes. He doesn't want them to be afraid. He only wants--

The one eating turns to look back over her shoulder and their eyes meet. She drops the thing she'd been eating. There's a shriek--the third woman--and then all three of them are running pell-mell back towards the rest of the buildings.

He tamps down on his hurt and darts forward to scoop the food off the ground--an...apple?--and then he's running again, farther into the forest. He knows better than to stick around for the angry men and their weapons.

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

He doesn't pause until he feels he's far enough away he'll be able to hear anyone coming with enough warning to escape. He settles at the base of a tree and gnaws on the apple slowly, trying to savor the small thing. It's a little better than nothing, but it reminds him he's hungry, sets his stomach to rolling uncomfortably. When he's gnawed the thing down to its core he finally sets it aside, disappointed.

He’ll have to see if he can find more food, or venture back towards the buildings to see if there’s anything he might be able to take that won’t be missed. But not tonight.

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

In the end, he ends up doing quite a bit of stealing from the village at night while he hides in the trees during the day, watching the way the people interact with one another. He feels bad about just taking, but there’s nothing much that can be done for it--there’s no easily accessible food in the forest and the people still spook and run at the sight of him.

So that’s the way he survives, for a bit. It's not a comfortable existence and he knows the people of the little town both know he's there and are upset by it. He tries not to scare them, only slips down into their fields at night, when most are asleep, only takes as much food as he needs to quell the emptiness in his stomach.

Watching the people interact with one another is helpful, though, even if he can’t approach them. The field workers do a lot of talking to one another as they work, and over time he starts to pick up what the words mean, in a roundabout kind of way. So he lingers and he watches and he hopes for...something he can't put a name to.

He's finally forced to move on when he tries to slip down into the town about three weeks later and there are men with swords again, lining the outskirts of the village. He knows enough about people at this point from what he's observed and he doesn't want problems. He moves on, just picks a direction and starts walking.

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

When he stumbles across a tiny cottage out in the woods all on its own, he assumes it must be abandoned--people don't live alone, after all. He would investigate further, but the sun is already peeking over the horizon, sky dusting pink, and he knows he needs to find somewhere to settle before daybreak.

There are several little shacks sprinkled around the clearing that he doesn’t know the purpose of so he picks one--the shack behind the cottage--to test the door and finds it unlocked. It's a storage shed and moderately well-stocked, despite how the little room seems to be on the verge of collapse. He settles to the ground on the far side of a crate and tucks himself into a tight little ball. He'll stay here today and investigate more closely tonight.

Shortly, he dozes.

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

He wakes much too soon to the sound of...something. He's never heard it before, this softly twanging noise. It's good. Nice.

He knows it must be well past mid-day from the way the light slants in through the chinks in the walls. He's just thinking it's too early to try venturing out when the singing starts, soft and lovely and he thinks, oh, It's a person.

He rises very slowly and quietly and crosses the tiny storeroom to the wall that's shared with the cottage. The music is a little louder here, and he can make out the words, a story of a knight saving a fair maiden and true love's kiss. He can understand what those words mean a bit now--language has come slowly, but he's getting better at piecing together bits and pieces from the things he's heard, although not all of it makes sense all the time. And well, some things just feel right, like he's known them all his life. Language has been a little like that, even if speaking is a challenge.

So he can follow the story, vaguely, even as the song ends and another quickly takes its place. He hears no other voices or movement in the adjoining room, just that smooth tenor singing of heroics and heartbreak. He settles down beside the wall, rests his temple against the rough wood grain, and listens.

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

He wakes again an indeterminate time later. It's late, the sun is down and the man in the cottage sounds as if he's retired for the night. It's quiet. He...probably shouldn't stay here, but it's warm and quiet and the man sings so beautifully. He borrows a small meal of hard bread from the stores and tells himself he won't be back when he slips out of the storeroom to stretch his legs.

By the time the sun rises, he's tucked back into the storeroom anyway, curled up against the wall that joins the cottage. What's one more day?

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

One day becomes two days becomes a whole week. He's reluctant to leave the security of the little storeroom, the pleasant singing. A few days in, he finds a chink in the wall that lets him see into the cottage room and he now spends his daylight hours pressed to that wall, watching, listening. The man is...beautiful. He looks like they would be of a height, even if the man is a little leaner than he himself is. Despite that, the man is still broad-shouldered and strong looking, with brilliant blue eyes and a sweep of brown hair he can only think of as pretty. And he can tell the man is not just beautiful; he’s also intelligent, witty. He talks to himself constantly, sings, reads, dances his way around the room. The man moves through life as if he has not a care in the world. He wants so badly to be a part of that.

Despite how much he yearns to join the man, he still won't reveal himself, too afraid of the potential reaction to him. He finds himself growing attached, despite how much he shouldn’t. If this soft and delightful man is as afraid as the village people were, it will break him.

So he watches and he dreams and he tries to help around the cottage, at night. It starts with some chopped wood when the woodpile gets a little too low, which the man reacts to with delighted confusion. Then it's a few rabbits and other small animals, here and there, to replenish some of the food stores he's been dipping into to feed himself.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves an admirer," the man says softly the morning he finds the first rabbit. He'd been...nervous about leaving the little thing. Nervous it might upset or scare the man. Instead, he looks...pleased. He smiles all day, even when he comes back in from caring for the chickens, which he knows the man dislikes. It's nice, kindles a warm feeling in his chest.

He wants to be the cause of that smile more often.

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

A few days later, he wakes to the sound of more than just the man in the yard out front. There are several people he can't see but he can hear them, carrying things to and fro.

"Jaskier, where do you want this?" one of them asks.

"Oh, that's fine there," the man says. Something flutters in his chest. Jaskier.

There's a few more crates the other men bring into the cottage that he can see through his chink in the wall. The man, Jaskier, watches the stacking of these crates on the far side of the cottage along with another man who stands at his elbow. Compared to Jaskier, the man is very broad and well built with short cropped dark hair. He carries a sword on his hip and stands like he'd be ready to draw it at a moment's notice. He reminds him of the men who'd threatened him the first night.

"I should also warn you there's been sightings of some kind of monster lately." Jaskier turns to the man with the sword, effectively presenting his back to the chink in the wall. He wishes he could see his face.

"What kind of monster? Monsters have been gone for almost a hundred years."

The other man is already shaking his head, "not a monster, monster, no. This is some kind of abomination. Looks like a man but...not. Wrong. He's been spotted at one of the nearby villages as little as a few weeks ago."

"And? How do they know he's a monster then?"

The man puffs out a tired sounding breath, "I'm just relating what I heard, Jaskier. I don't know."

"Of course not," he says, tetchy. There's something beyond the words that have upset him.

"Look, I--"

Jaskier pulls away from the hand hovering over his shoulder. "I don't care, Vincent."

"Jask, you know I didn't--"

"We're not talking about us," Jaskier says, tone sharp in a way he's never heard, "just...let the men finish and then you can run on home to father and tell him what a good little disowned son I've been, hm?"

Jaskier doesn't give him a chance to respond, just steps over to watch the men bringing in the crates more closely, steps just a little too heavy.

When they're gone, he watches Jaskier cry, head in his hands. It makes his chest uncomfortably tight but there's nothing he can do.

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

When night falls and he's sure Jaskier is asleep (and he feels a little flutter of delight in his gut when he thinks the man's name, elated that he knows it after all this time), he slips out of the storeroom and into the pooling moonlight of the little clearing, stretching his legs. His goal tonight is to chop some more wood so Jaskier will have enough to stay warm tomorrow. Then...maybe a walk. He'd seen some blackberry bushes a few nights ago. Maybe he'd pick some, leave them for him in the morning.

The wood chopping goes quickly and he stacks the split logs nicely with the other chopped wood against the wall by the front door. He does so quietly, not wanting to rouse his sleeping friend. Not that he thinks it likely the man will rouse tonight. He'd been somber the rest of the day and he'd cried again, curled in his bed when he should have been sleeping. He finds he wants to do something to ease the unhappiness that's settled over him since the men had come by.

It's with that thought he wanders off in search of those blackberries. He takes one of the wooden buckets Jaskier usually uses for gathering eggs and sets off to find the blackberry bushes.

They're right where he remembered them, just a short walk from the little pond where the ducks gather from time to time. He goes about picking them to fill the bucket, careful of their little thorns. He gets the bucket three-fourths or so full before he calls it good. By then, he's covered in sticky juice and the sun should be up soon. He's got just enough time to visit the pond, wash off his hands and leave the bucket out front before he’ll settle back in the storage room.

The pond is silent and still when he wanders up, the bucket dangling from one hand. He sets it aside on the shore and kneels at the edge of the pond. He tries not to peer into his reflection in the water, even as the moonlight reflects back off its surface.

Unbidden, then man's words resurface in his mind. Like a man but not. Wrong. He knows he looks...different. There are harsh scars scattering his face, his temples, his arms, his torso. His eyes are wrong, too bright, too strange a color. His hair is unnatural, too pale, too wild. He understands why the villagers are startled by him, understands why they react with fear. He's...wrong. He just doesn't know what to do about it.

He pushes the thoughts from his mind and doesn't let himself linger. Instead, he washes up quickly and treks back over to the cottage. He leaves the bucket of berries on the doorstep and retreats to the storeroom.

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

He rouses just a little when Jaskier rises. He listens to him sing and go about his morning routine with half an ear, still mostly asleep. The sound of his friend awake and back to normal is a comfort, so it's disturbing the way he abruptly goes silent when the door creaks open.

"Oh--" he's obviously found the berries. The quiet stretches out for a beat too long and then there's a sniffling noise. "Shit," Jaskier mutters. The door clunks back shut. He hears the noise of the bucket being sat down somewhere in the cottage. "'s stupid to fucking cry over berries, Jask, pull it together," he tells himself, voice thick with tears.

He can't help the surge of alarm that rolls through him--he didn't mean to make Jaskier cry. He presses his face to the wood, eye at the chink in the wall, and is surprised to find him smiling despite the tears, gazing down into the bucket of berries as if they are something far more precious as he wipes aggressively at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Blackberries," he repeats, once his breathing is a little more under control, "I'll have to make a pie." He's still smiling. Maybe they weren't such a bad idea, after all.

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

Jaskier continues with his daily routine after that, and he lets himself sleep again, after a time. He's fairly attuned with the noises of Jaskier going about his day, so he doesn't startle when Jaskier begins going through the crates of supplies the men brought yesterday. By the time he realizes what that means, Jaskier's already at the door of the storage shed, dried goods tucked under his arm.

He lays very, very still where he's curled in the corner, pressed against the wall of the cottage, eyes squeezed shut, and waits for the inevitable.

The gasp is expected. The sound of the bundle Jaskier is carrying hitting the ground is as well. What is not expected is the hands that land on his shoulder, tug him over gently. He blinks up at the face of the man he's only watched from a distance, startled. He expected revulsion, fear, the sound of footsteps fleeing. Instead, he's peering down at him with concern.

"Oh, thank the gods you're alive," he sighs out on a breath, patting reassuringly at his shoulder where his hands still rest. "What are you doing in my storage shed, darling?"

And oh, this is...not something he'd been prepared for. He swallows hard and can't seem to force words out.

"You don't have to tell me," Jaskier says softly, "but let's get you inside, alright? It can't be comfortable out here."

He follows in a daze when Jaskier tugs him gently upright and leads him into the cottage. This doesn't feel real. He must be dreaming. Why else would Jaskier be looking at him like that?

"Have you had anything to eat? Are you hungry?" Jaskier asks once he's settled at the table. He at least can follow that much so he shakes his head, still afraid to speak. Jaskier jumps to preparing him a small meal of hard cheese and fresh bread. “Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to make that pie yet,” he says as he sets the little plate before him and settles across the table from him, smiling. "Go on, eat," he says, and he doesn't have to be told twice.

The food is the best thing he's ever tasted. The pleased look never falls off Jaskier's face. "Thank you," he whispers once the plate is empty, wincing when the words fall rough like gravel from his disused throat.

"Oh," Jaskier breathes, freezing with his hand outstretched to take the empty plate. He thinks maybe he's made a mistake, but Jaskier's smile stretches impossibly wider, eyes sparkling, "you're very welcome, dear heart." The look on Jaskier’s face, that tone, settles something warm in his chest.

Jaskier puts the plate on the counter and resumes his seat. He doesn't know what to do with himself in the face of Jaskier's kindness and keeps his eyes averted. Jaskier doesn't give him time to start feeling self-conscious, though.

"I'm Jaskier. Do you have a name, darling? Something I can call you?" And he knows Jaskier’s asking a question but--

Jaskier can tell his mistake almost immediately. “Oh! Um,” he fumbles to press his hand to his chest, “Jaskier,” he repeats, and he nods. Then, tentatively, Jaskier holds out his hand to him. He doesn’t move, not quite sure what Jaskier means until his palm makes careful contact with his chest. His breath catches. “You?”

He shakes his head, understanding that Jaskier is asking for his name. He feels a bubble of shame rise in him. It's not his fault he doesn't have something to go by like everyone else, he knows, but that doesn't lessen the feeling he's let his friend down.

"Oh, sweetheart," Jaskier breathes, and he doesn't sound upset. Or at least, not at him. "What should we call you then?” He looks thoughtful for a minute before, “Hold on, I’ve an idea.”

Jaskier rises and crosses the room, bringing back something from one of the shelves. “I’ve got a book here,” Jaskier says, settling it on the table in front of him, “It’s a storybook, but I could read you the names of the characters here until you find one you like?” and that was a lot of words but…“Just nod if you hear one you like, yes?” He can do that.

So Jaskier flips through the book, stopping periodically to read out the names as he finds them. And they’re...fine. But none of the names sound right to him.

“Hm, Eric?” He shakes his head, “No, I agree, too bland. Jakob? No? Alright then, Alice? That’s typically a lady’s name but--nope okay, um, Geralt?”

And that’s--“Yes,” he says softly. Something about that feels right.

The smile on Jaskier's face is small and delighted. "You want to be called Geralt?"

"Mm." And something about choosing the name makes his face hot. He ducks his head.

The grin that stretches Jaskier’s face looks like it hurts it's so wide. "A good name. Heroic. Kind." His gaze softens as he reaches across the table to rest his palm on Geralt's forearm. The touch is reassuring, even as he burns hot under Jaskier's fingertips. "It suits you."

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

He doesn't pressure Geralt for an explanation of anything, but he reassures him several times that he can stay, that it's no trouble. He even sets him up with new clothes, soft cotton that isn’t as scratchy as what he’d been wearing.

"Really Geralt, I have to insist. I won't be able to rest knowing you're out there somewhere with nowhere to stay. And," he continues, “if you stay long enough, I’ll even send for some clothes of your own, if you’d like.” And well. He can't let Jaskier worry (and the new clothes would be nice, too).

He sleeps on the little divan and marvels at how quickly Jaskier drifts off, breaths evening into sleep. The trust inherent in the action shakes him to his core. He follows a while later, chest overly tight.

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

They settle into a habit surprisingly quickly in the weeks that follow. Geralt picks up many of the tasks he'd already been performing for Jaskier in the twilight hours and Jaskier provides excellent company. He still sings and plays his lute in the evenings, preening to have an audience that Geralt is happy to provide.

He's thankful Jaskier asks no questions, although it's obvious Jaskier would like to know more about him, about what happened. He catches him staring at the scars when he thinks Geralt isn't looking, but it's not with revulsion. Geralt can't name the emotion on his face, but it's not a bad one necessarily.

There's only one question he does ask.

"So, do you know who my admirer is?" he says finally. Geralt’s just starting to feel truly comfortable here with Jaskier and is less worried about Jaskier changing his mind about keeping Geralt around. He’s proven he’s helpful and he’s trying very, very hard not to scare him (he’s beginning to think Jaskier can’t be scared, actually).

Geralt's in the middle of chopping wood when he asks. "Because you know, it was really very sweet of them." He's grinning.

"Uh," is the very elegant response Geralt comes up with, cheeks hot. He’s not sure why he’s embarrassed. Jaskier obviously knows it was him. He chops the next piece of wood with a singular focus, doesn't shift his gaze back over to Jaskier.

"He must have very fine arms. He chopped all my wood for weeks, you know," Jaskier says offhand, and oh. He's teasing. His tone is friendly. Geralt only flushes harder. He’s not sure why Jaskier can fluster him so quickly. "Not as good as yours, I'm sure," he continues, and Geralt nearly jumps when Jaskier's hand settles on his bicep, squeezing. "Mm, not sure anyone's as deliciously built as you are, darling."

"Jaskier," he finally bites out, mortified. He feels--he feels--he doesn’t know the word for it, but he’s pretty sure it’s not appropriate. Jaskier laughs.

"It's alright sweetheart," he grins and shoots him a wink, "your secret's safe with me." And Geralt doesn't know what to do with himself, but he likes the way his stomach clenches when Jaskier touches him, the soft way he speaks. And he does trust that he's safe with him. It's...reassuring.

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

Despite how safe Geralt feels, he still can't bring himself to tell Jaskier how he ended up hiding in his storeroom. He's fairly certain Jaskier won't care at this point, but every time he tries to say something, he finds the words have abandoned him. Unlike Jaskier, he struggles to voice his thoughts, even when he has the words neatly arranged in his head. Jaskier reassures him that it's fine, not everyone is gifted with their speech and it's normal for words not to work the way you'd like, but it frustrates him anyway. He...cares...about Jaskier. He’s…different. He wants to share this part of himself with him. He just doesn't know how.

His efforts are further complicated by the way his stomach flips uncomfortably every time Jaskier is close. He's not an idiot, he knows what it means (Jaskier is a big fan of love ballads, the raunchier the better, he says and it’s…that) but it feels...dishonest to entertain Jaskier's subtle flirting, especially when Jaskier knows nothing about who he really is, how he came to be. After all, who could love a monster?

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

"Geralt," Jaskier calls from his mound of blankets as Geralt stokes the fire for the last time that night, "come to bed with me, darling."

Geralt can feel himself flush. "Jaskier," he admonishes, but Jaskier only laughs, lifts the corner of the blanket invitingly.

"It's been cold at night and it will only get colder. Come on, Geralt." He bats his eyes enticingly, pats the corner of the mattress again.

"I can't," he says, quiet, and something in Jaskier's expression softens.

"Alright, darling," he says, letting the blankets fall closed around him, "but that's a standing invitation."

"Hm."

Jaskier doesn't press further, but Geralt lays awake thinking about it for far longer than he should.

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

"I'm a viscount," Jaskier says apropos of nothing a few days later. It's early morning and they're outside, returning from the chicken coop. Geralt turns to where Jaskier's stopped in the middle of the yard, bucket of chicken eggs forgotten on the ground beside him. "Or at least, I used to be. My father disowned me about a year ago now."

"Why?" Geralt asks, because Jaskier seems to need the encouragement. He wouldn't have brought it up if he hadn't wanted Geralt to know.

"I...embarrassed him. With who I chose to take to my bed." He's staring hard at the tree line opposite the cottage. He's not even facing Geralt. "My father's head of the guard. Vincent."

The name brings to mind the day the crates were delivered. The man with the sword who stood too close.

"I was disowned either way and I knew that, but Vincent..." he trails off.

"Thank you, Jaskier. You don't have to tell me." His eyes meet Geralt's finally and he smiles. It's a tiny, watery thing.

"No I--he chose to stay. With my father. And I'm...here. It bothered me. For a long time." He's quiet so long Geralt thinks maybe that's the end of it, but when he steps forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jaskier, he keeps talking. "I thought...who would want a disowned viscount? Vincent certainly didn't. I'm damaged goods."

"Jaskier, you're not damaged," Geralt says, horrified at the prospect. Jaskier is...wonderful (even if he talks a little too much for Geralt's taste, sometimes). How could anyone think him lesser for loving who he loved?

Jaskier extends his hand to catch Geralt's and squeezes tightly. Geralt squeezes back, stomach fluttering when Jaskier smiles at him. "I know," he says softly, "and I know you’re not ready to talk about yourself yet, but whatever it is, it’s okay, okay?" And when Jaskier says that, looking at him the way he is, Geralt can almost believe him.

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

They settle deeper into their routine, something Jaskier calls "disgustingly domestic" with a smile that nearly splits his face, so Geralt's pretty sure he doesn't think it's a bad thing, actually. Geralt certainly enjoys it.

Jaskier talks incessantly about anything and everything and Geralt likes listening.

“You know,” Jaskier says one night, after he’s wound down his playing and put the lute away, “I haven’t had many guests out here since I was disowned. It’s been...nice.”

“Why not?” Geralt asks, stoking the fire before settling back on the fur rug. Geralt can’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to spend time with Jaskier.

“Being disowned is…” he pauses, obviously searching for the right words, “it’s not something that’s done lightly. It means the people I grew up with, the people who were close to me, they can’t see me anymore, or risk having their own reputation tarnished.”

Geralt feels his lips twitch in a frown. Jaskier laughs.

“Oh, don’t make that face, I know. But that’s how it is. I’ve spent some time with the village locals, but it’s...not the same. I’m still nobility to them and I’m no longer nobility to the actual nobles.” He shrugs, but Geralt can see the thought still bothers him.

“You were lonely,” Geralt says. He’s not sure he should have pointed it out, but Jaskier doesn’t seem angry.

“I was,” he agrees softly. Something in his eyes pins Geralt to the spot, “until you.”

And that’s...too much to think about. “Hm.”

The smile that creeps over Jaskier’s face is blinding. “Yes,” he agrees, “hm, indeed.”

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

"My father's men should be stopping by in the next few weeks," Jaskier says on a morning like any other.

"Did you want me--"

"No," Jaskier corrects hastily before Geralt can offer to hide, "No, I want you here. I just--wanted to give you a heads up."

"Oh."

They don't talk about it again. They probably should have.

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

"Jaskier?" Geralt calls across the small space of the cottage, sitting up.

There's banging outside. People. Jaskier shifts in his cocoon of blankets that is his bed, only the top of his head visible. "No," he mumbles fuzzily, "don't wanna." He's...not really awake.

"Jaskier," Geralt rumbles, voice still thick with sleep himself, "we should--"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before the door is swinging open and a man is striding through. When he sees Geralt, his hand lands on his sword.

"Jaskier, what the fuck--"

"Vincent," Jaskier gasps, nearly tripping in his haste to extract himself from the blankets. He’s eyeing the space between Vincent and Geralt with panic, "ever heard of fucking knocking?" he bites out, shifting to put himself between them as much as possible.

"Jaskier, you've got a--"

"Don't finish that sentence," he says, tone flat and threatening, "and I'd appreciate it if you'd give my companion and I some fucking privacy. I'll meet you in the yard in a moment."

Vincent's hand tightens around the pommel of his sword, "I don't think--" he starts, but the look Jaskier pins him with is cutting. He hesitates, but he leaves without another word, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Fucking prick," Jaskier growls, stalking over to his wardrobe to put on some clothes before facing their company.

"I should--" Geralt starts, but Jaskier cuts him off.

"You should get dressed and let me drag you around the yard to hang off of while I make sure my father hasn't fucking shorted me on supplies. I'm already disowned, what more can he do to me?" The grin on Jaskier's face is brittle.

When they exit the cottage, Vincent is hovering by the door, obviously nervous. He's still got his hand wrapped around the pommel of his sword like a lifeline. Jaskier scoffs at it, but Geralt stays carefully back and works to make his posture non-threatening.

"Jaskier," Vincent says the minute he's out the door, "what is--"

"This is Geralt," Jaskier cuts in smoothly, "my companion." Vincent winces.

"He's--"

"My companion," Jaskier reinforces.

"The mage in Novigrad is looking for him." Geralt stiffens.

"I assure you we have no idea what you mean," Jaskier bites out, even as Geralt feels his stomach drop uncomfortably. The mage. The man from the room. He no longer cares one way or the other who the man is or what he wanted from Geralt. He’s happy here, he doesn’t want to leave. Vincent opens his mouth to respond, but he snaps his jaw shut a moment later with no protest.

"Okay," he sighs. Then-- "Where do you want the supplies?"

The men don't stay any longer than they need to, but it's a tense affair for everyone involved. Jaskier takes Geralt's hand in his and doesn't let go until long after Vincent and his underlings have left.

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

The rest of the day, Jaskier’s filled with a frantic sort of energy. He breezes through chores, drags Geralt on a walk with him out to the pond where he paces the water’s edge for near an hour before they head back. And it doesn’t dissipate even after they’ve returned to the cottage and had dinner.

The fire’s lit and Geralt is settled on the fur rug before it the way he normally does. Usually, this is about the time Jaskier would fetch his lute, or perhaps a book to read from. Instead, he’s still pacing.

“Jaskier,” Geralt finally says, breaking his focus as he comes up short in another circuit of the room, “come sit. Your pacing makes my head hurt.”

“Sorry,” he huffs, flopping down beside him with a heavy sigh. He leans against Geralt’s side for a bit, but he’s still restless, still shifting.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says again and Jaskier sighs hard. He pulls away only to lay beside him, pillowing his head on Geralt’s thigh. Immediately, Geralt slips his fingers into Jaskier’s hair, soothing.

"So that was awful," Jaskier mutters.

"Mm."

He rolls so his face is pressed to Geralt's stomach. Geralt's fingers stay tangled in his hair, gently petting.

"I don’t want you to go," Jaskier says into the silence, muffled against Geralt's bulk.

Geralt’s chest siezes.

“I know you aren’t ready to tell me anything and that’s okay, but I--” his breath is warm against the thin cloth of Geralt’s shirt, “If that mage really is looking for you, I don’t want you to go,” he repeats, voice small.

Geralt feels as if his throat has closed. "I'm--I want to stay here,” he forces out, swallowing roughly. He should explain because Jaskier doesn’t know, but Jaskier sags with relief, presses his face closer to Geralt's stomach, fingers digging into his side and Geralt doesn’t want to take that relief from him, not now.

"That's--I'm glad." They don't say anything else for a long time as the fire burns down.

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

Geralt can’t stop thinking about the fact Jaskier doesn’t know, though. He needs to tell him. So that he’ll understand. Geralt owes it to him to tell him, whether he wants to or not. And if Jaskier wants him gone after? It will hurt, but he’ll go.

"Jaskier, do you have a minute?" he asks while Jaskier's tuning his lute that evening. He'd been getting ready to play, as he usually does.

"Of course, sweetheart. What is it?" he asks, strumming through a simple, uncomplicated tune. He meets Geralt's eyes with a playful smile, but his expression sobers when he sees the seriousness in Geralt's gaze.

"You asked me," he says carefully, "about before."

"Only if you're comfortable, dear. You don't have to--"

"No," he says, "I do." He needs to understand. He drops his gaze to his lap where he's wringing his hands together nervously. He stills them with effort, but that only makes the scars there stand out more starkly. He startles when Jaskier catches his hands in his own, traces those scars tenderly with lute-calloused fingertips.

"Well then, I'm listening," he says and smiles, small and encouraging when Geralt's gaze flickers back up to his face. It makes his chest tight. He doesn't deserve this. Jaskier. He tries to take in his face now, that tender care, that concern. Just in case it’s gone, after. So he knows. So he can remember.

Despite the fear churning in his gut, he takes a deep breath and starts talking, gaze glued to their still joined hands.

"My earliest memory is--uh. I. I woke up in a...room. I didn't know where I was. There was...a man. The mage, I guess." Jaskier is very, very still but his thumbs rub soothing circles against the back of his hands, a grounding point of contact.

"I tried to ask him what was going on, but I--" he trails off, unsure how to phrase what he means. He shakes his head. "--I didn't know how. I didn't have the words. And I--scared him. I think. He ran."

Jaskier sucks in a noisy breath and squeezes his hands briefly. "Go on," he encourages when Geralt glances back up.

"I followed him. I didn't know what else to do. I was in a town, I think."

"Novigrad," Jaskier interrupts before wincing. "Sorry, go on."

"The people there--I tried to ask for help but they--" he can feel the tears burning in his throat and tries to breathe through it, keep going, "they either ran or they threatened me. I didn't know what was going on." He feels the tears spill and ducks his head. If he stops now, he won't be able to continue. "I ran."

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier whispers. He lets go of one hand to bring his palm up to Geralt's face. His fingertips brush the corner of his eye, wipe the tears away gently.

"I ended up in the forest. There's a village not too far from here," Jaskier makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment. It’s the village Jaskier goes to sometimes when he needs things his father won’t or doesn’t send. "I stayed around there for a few weeks. Until the men with the swords showed up." Jaskier makes another small noise, rubbing his thumb along Geralt's cheekbone. Geralt closes his eyes. "So I picked a direction and started walking. And I found you."

"And I'm glad you found me, love. Sounds like you've had quite the rough go of it."

The calm acceptance is...too much. Does he not understand? He's a monster. Not natural. The mage wants back his creature. "Jaskier, I'm--"

"Shh," he cuts him off, grip still tight on his hand as he caresses his face, slips his fingers back into his hair, "I'm glad you told me, darling, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. You're a good person." He tugs him into his arms, gentle. Geralt goes, feeling like he did when he woke--unmoored, lost. He feels the tears slip down his cheeks, feels the way his breath catches on a sob. "I love you."

"Jask--" he can't get the words out past the lump in his throat so he just tucks himself a little closer, presses his face into Jaskier's neck. His lute sits forgotten beside them.

"You don't have to say it back, sweetling. It's okay," he says, stroking his free hand through Geralt's hair, the other tucked around his waist.

"I do, though," he whispers, lips brushing his throat, "I do." Jaskier sucks in a shuddering breath and holds him tighter, presses his lips to Geralt's temple, right over the mass of scars there. It's gentle, reverent.

That night, Geralt sleeps in Jaskier's bed, curled against his chest. He’s nearly asleep when the gentle tenor of Jaskier’s voice cuts through the soft haze of near-sleep. “--don’t know where I’d be,” Jaskier is saying softly, lips pressing intermittently to the top of his head, “gets hard being alone out here. And you’re so--” he cuts off, presses a kiss to Geralt’s hair again. He obviously thinks he’s already asleep. “You keep me grounded,” he says. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” He breathes it like a secret.

As Geralt lets sleep finally pull him under, swimming in Jaskier’s quiet confession, it's the most cared for he's ever felt.

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

And that’s how things continue, for a long time. Jaskier frets over who may or may not be looking for Geralt and vacillates wildly between stressing himself out about it and pretending it’s not a problem. Vincent and his men show up about every eight or so weeks with supplies from Jaskier’s father and Jaskier drags Geralt out with him to watch every time. Vincent eyes Geralt skeptically still, but he no longer comments or reaches for his sword. And as Geralt begins to experience what contact with other people is like when they’re not running from him or threatening him, he’s further convinced that Jaskier is special. He doesn’t feel this way about Vincent or the other men who deliver their supplies, or the people in the village who Jaskier’s taken him down to meet a few times now (they still won’t come anywhere near him without Jaskier around, but Jaskier is insistent they treat him like anyone else and it’s...it helps).

But Geralt doesn’t know how to make it clear to Jaskier that he’s interested in more. They share Jaskier’s bed, they touch frequently, but things are...remarkably tame. They already say “I love you.” At some point, Jaskier’s flirting had tapered off and now he’s just...sweet. And Geralt loves it, but he also wants...that. The raunchy flirting and the...the things that come after. And the happy ending, like the ones from the fairytales Jaskier readers, sometimes. He just doesn’t know how to let Jaskier know that he wants everything.

It turns out he doesn’t have to ask at all.

"So I know this is a dumb question but," Jaskier's paused over making their eggs one morning, gaze downturned and intense, "I'm--uh. I mean, you--fuck. I have no idea how to say this," he huffs, taking the pan off the open flame and tipping the egg onto a plate. "You want to stay. Here. With me." It's obviously supposed to be a statement, but it sounds like a question.

They’ve already talked about this, haven’t they? "Yes, Jaskier," he says softly, "as long as you'll have me."

Jaskier lets out of a gust of breath, "Fuck okay, so--" he turns to face Geralt, egg abandoned, to take his hands in his, crouching at Geralt’s knees, "I want you here with me, too. More than I, uh, probably should."

Geralt makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat. This sounds like--

"And I know there's no real practical purpose for it since I have nothing but this--" he gestures around them at the cottage, "--to give, but, um. I'd--If you'd be so inclined I'd like to marry you, Geralt." He pauses, eyes downcast and face flushed. Geralt for his part can't seem to put words in any order that might allow them to come out of his mouth and communicate just how much Jaskier's offer means to him.

"It's, uh, a little bit of protection. If the mage does come back for you, or something. But," he's rambling now, words falling from his lips so quickly his tongue is almost tripping over them in an effort to get them out faster, "but it's not like I don't want to marry you, or anything like that. I've been thinking about it quite extensively and I--"

"Jaskier," he cuts in, and he shuts up immediately, wide eyes focused on Geralt's face, nerves pouring off him. "Yes," Geralt says simply, and Jaskier gives a giddy little laugh, tips forward to hide his face in Geralt's lap.

"That's--yes. That's good. I'm glad." When he pulls back to look up into Geralt's face again, his eyes are shining. "Thank you, Geralt."

Geralt's not sure why Jaskier is the one thanking him when Geralt's the one who will most benefit from the arrangement, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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

Jaskier makes a special trip to the village to bring the priest of Melitele back to their cottage to officiate the hand fastening less than a week later. Geralt's nervous the man will balk when he sees him, but other than going a little pale at the sight, he stands fast. Even the temple boy that he brought with him doesn't do more than flinch when Jaskier levels him with a look.

"Are you sure--" the priest begins, but Jaskier cuts him off quickly.

"We are. And we want a small, private affair. No fanfare. I'm disowned, remember?" he says sardonically, and Geralt knows it's a tactic to keep the man from asking too many questions, they'd talked about it beforehand, but it still makes his chest ache. Jaskier is so good, he doesn't understand why everyone isn't as drawn to him as Geralt is.

"Now?" The priest asks, fiddling with the cord he's brought with him.

"Geralt?" and Jaskier's expression is so cautiously guarded--

"Yes," he agrees, stepping forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in their little clearing, just outside the door of the home they've already shared for months. The priest heaves a gust of breath.

"You'll need to kneel," he says, "Jaskier, give him your right hand. Uh--"

"Geralt," Jaskier supplies, eyes hard.

"--Geralt, give Jaskier your left." They kneel before the priest, hands clasped and held up in offering. The priest slips the cord around their joined hands, talking all the while. "Now, you don't untie this once it's done. Bad luck and all that. Ready?"

"Yes," Jaskier says, and Geralt nods.

"Alright." The priest waves the boy over to watch and serve as witness, and then he begins.

"As this knot is tied," he says, twisting the cording together in the first of several knots, "so are your lives now bound."

Jaskier squeezes Geralt's hand so tightly he can feel how he trembles.

"Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all your hopes for your new life together." Another knot.

"With the fashioning of this knot do I tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as love shall last." He ties off the third and final knot and leans backward.

"Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows." The silence that rings out after the priest ceases speaking is deafening. Geralt can hear the blood rushing in his veins. "It is done."

"Geralt," Jaskier whispers as their joined hands fall to rest on Geralt’s thigh. He can't help but follow the movement of those lips with his eyes. "Kiss me, Geralt." And who is he to deny Jaskier anything?

He squeezes their joined hands, free hand rising to cup Jaskier's cheek. The look in Jaskier's eyes, the tenderness, the love, the thinly veiled excitement, twists his chest. How could he have ever feared this man would reject him?

"Geralt," Jaskier says again, and Geralt doesn't make him ask twice. He leans forward and presses their lips together in a tiny, chaste kiss, hardly more than a brushing of lips. It's still electric, especially when Jaskier makes a tiny, wounded noise and presses in closer, nearly in Geralt's lap.

Somewhere behind Jaskier, the priest clears his throat and Jaskier draws away reluctantly.

"You'll make it official in the books?" Jaskier asks without actually moving from where he’s perched on Geralt's knees.

"Of course. Should I send word to your father?"

"No," Jaskier scoffs, "don't bother." Geralt sees the priest nod behind Jaskier's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, son. May Melitele bless your binding. Come, boy." Before Jaskier or Geralt can say more, the man is hurrying away with the temple boy who's eyes are still wide and fixed on Geralt.

"I'd like to see them take you from me now," Jaskier says once the man's footsteps have faded from hearing, "husband." Something in Geralt trembles at the word.

"Husband," he repeats slowly, testing out the word on his tongue and finding it to his liking. Jaskier grins, wide and bright.

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He leans forward to kiss Geralt again, as if some dam has broken and he can't help himself. "My beautiful husband," Jaskier breathes against Geralt's lips.

When he pulls back, breathing hard, Geralt brings their still bound hands up to his lips to kiss Jaskier's knuckles, tender and reverent.

"How could anyone not look at you and see how sweet you are," Jaskier breathes, pulling his knuckles away from Geralt's mouth to give Geralt's scarred fingers the same treatment. "So beautiful, so full of love, my husband is."

"Jaskier--"

"Shush, I'm basking," he teases, giving another deliberate kiss to the back of his hand.

"I'm not--"

"No," Jaskier corrects immediately, "you just don't see yourself the way I see you. You're beautiful, Geralt and I love you very, very much."

He feels his face heat, ducks his head so his hair falls in the way, hiding his eyes.

"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I love you and I'm not going anywhere. And--" he continues, slipping the fingers of his free hand under Geralt's chin and tilting his head up until their eyes meet, "--I'm not letting anyone else have you. You're mine, husband dearest."

"Yours," Geralt agrees easily. The mage may or may not be looking for him, but it doesn't matter. Geralt wants nothing to do with him anyway.

"And I'm yours, darling. As long as you want me."

"Mine," Geralt echos, "Always."

And that's enough.

[americankimchi]

ok and I GET the concept of attachments leading to vulnerability and therefore weakness but to impose that on a CHILD who so desperately needs a family, someone he could bond with, its honestly tragic. and since qui gon isnt there to do it anymore it falls on obi wan, whos basically a kid himself, whos dealt with rejection his whole life, and how can you expect him to provide anything, much less mentor a padawan?? idk i just have so many FEELINGS abt this and can’t put it into proper words lol

okay you know what i think that’s on qui gon because why!!! would you make the decision to rip a child away from his home like that so quickly!!! i get that they were making a movie and thus needed to speed things along for pacing reasons but COME ONNNNN

i feel like if it wasn’t restricted for movie reasons it would have gone down very differently. difference being: hey, maybe we don’t rip anakin away from his mom and leave not only his mom still in slavery but also punt a tiny child directly into a warzone.

hear me out

so assuming qui gon decides not to take anakin with him (at that moment in time because anakin is still going to be heading to the order just in a more meticulous fashion) right after meeting the skywalkers on tattooine, he still needs to get off planet. so he does the whole race thing yadda yadda he gets the engine and they take off

so here’s where it diverges: anakin stays on tattooine and never goes to naboo.

(bro this got so long i had to put it under a cut omfg)

but cindy!! you might say, leaving anakin on tattoine??? stuck in slavery??? how could you!!!

YES, but this is a temporary thing, just stay with me for a second

padme disagrees but relents because qui gon says he’ll come back for the boy when he’s not, you know, neck deep in the middle of tense wartime negotiations that could trigger a full scale onslaught at any moment. that’s no place to bring a small child into no matter how powerful in the force he is.

qui gon heads back to the council, gives his report, and then mentions anakin. mentions his fuckin. midichlorian count. which is still so ridiculous to me oh my god the midichlorian is the powerhouse of the force i GUESS

anyways

the council still disapproves, but qui gon makes the case that even if they don’t believe him about the chosen one thing it’s still dangerous to leave such a powerful force user out there untrained and vulnerable to the stresses and traumas of slavery. what if he turns to the dark side??? he’ll have ample reasons to if he’s stuck there, and the amount of destruction he could unleash by being untrained and powerful is unspeakable!! qui gon, being the master diplomat he is, even if he is constantly butting heads with the council, could probably convince them of the importance of at least meeting the child. hell, it’s not as if they haven’t broken people free from slavery before it’s honestly jedi basic training at this point

so the council agrees on the condition that qui gon is not allowed to personally mentor the boy because as it stands now he’s too close to the situation, too eager which honestly??? might have been a good chunk of the reason why the council was so against it in the first place. qui gon pushed for it too hard and for no real solid reason. and for fuck’s sake qui gon your padawan is right there

obi wan, awkwardly shuffling on his feet like..... yeah i’m here too master

SPEAKING OF OBI WAN

imagine how gutting it must be to hear that your master wants to get rid of you for the newer, younger model. like at this point obi wan is so used to this shit. abandonment? by qui gon??? it’s more likely than you think,

and obi wan’s ALLL ready to be like “yeah okay. i’ll just. go over here then i guess. fuck me for thinking that you respected me as a person or anything lmao right”

and qui gon’s just “ah fuck. i can’t believe i’ve done this”

anyways hand waves qui gon explaining his reasoning to obi wan and saying that he just wants to ensure that the boy gets the training he needs and obi wan understanding but asking if he really thinks he’s ready to be a knight genuinely or if he’s just saying that to get him out of the way and wow that thought actually hurt a bit lol!!! no problem though qui gon whatever you want haha i’ll just... be in pain. over here. ((:

and qui gon being like, “honestly obi wan the only reason you’re not actually knighted is because i cherish your companionship and i don’t want to let you go” because ANAKIN ISN’T THE ONLY ONE WITH ATTACHMENT ISSUES CASE IN POINT: MY MANS JINN

let’s be honest obi wan could’ve been knighted ages ago. the only reason he hasn’t been is because the master dictates when that step should be taken and qui gon wasn’t ready to let his surrogate son go.

anyways RECONCILIATION WHOO kicks that insecurity off of obi wan’s already weary shoulders because that gnarly bit of tension could’ve been avoided so easily with just a simple conversation!! wow!!! communication can do wondrous things who! would! have! known!!!!!

anyways

they get to naboo. how do they beat the trade federation without anakin? the force works in mysterious ways alright it happens they win boom.

now, onto qui gon. in this au qui gon lives because of that healthy bit of communication up there that went down. see that conversation? where they affirm how important they (qui gon and obi wan) are to each other? and how that bond was repaired and confirmed between their leaving coruscant and fighting maul on naboo and thus their harmonious fighting wasn’t impaired by that underlying resentment and betrayal and tension??? TELLING YOUR KIDS THAT YOU LOVE AND RESPECT THEM CAN DO AMAZING THINGS WITH YOUR ABILITY TO COORDINATE WITH THEM IN THE FIELD IMAGINE THAT

coughs

so they fight maul and maul gets turned into maul 1 and maul 2 and qui gon almost gets got but is saved just in time by his padawan who is!! right there with him!!! because qui gon WAITS 5 SECONDS FOR HIM TO CATCH UP so they can F I G H T  T O G E T H E R. qui gon has a permanent limp and an ache in his spine that never really goes away but he’s ALIVE TO SEE THE NEXT SUNRISE BABEY

celebrations happen. and the most important bit of all here: palpatine never meets anakin on naboo.

why would he? anakin’s not fuckin there mate!!! maul wouldn’t even know anything about anakin because qui gon never bothered to take him with them to coruscant and maul was chasing the delegation from naboo, not going hunting for babies in the tatooinian sands

/kicks the palpatine was anakin’s experimental force daddy theory to the curb because. i don’t like it that’s why. suck it dickpatine.

ANAKIN NEVER MEETS PALPATINE!! ripples in the fucking pond babey

qui gon and obi wan ask a boon of padme, that boon being “hey can you give us truly disgusting amounts of money so we can go free those delightful people we had to leave behind on tatooine due to the fact that we were on a time crunch and also ripping people away from a familiar environment without a stable plan of action to provide them a better quality of life is actually called, as the professionals say, a dick move.”

and padme’s like “um fuck yeah here’s some cash let me know how this goes and give anakin and shmi my love”

SO OFF THEY GO TO TATOOINE TO FREE THE SKYWALKERS. shmi tags along to the temple because why wouldn’t she. she wants to see where her son is going to be going. she also pesters qui gon and obi wan constantly about the order and its philosophies and etc. etc. and subsequently gets a crash course in jedi doctrine that anakin also gets to sit in on and you know, educate himself on.

“we want you to know that being a jedi is a choice. being a jedi is a religion unto itself.” they say

“but it’s a set of philosophies that are meant to at its core help others live happy and free lives?” anakin (and shmi) ask

“that’s a very very very large generalization but i guess for the purposes of this conversation that could be seen as true. from a certain point of view,” they respond. qui gon then lets obi wan loose on his musings about the code because the code is simple, and complex in its simplicity, and how the beliefs of the jedi should be taken very seriously because it reflects their connection to the force and by extension the world around them etc. etc.

anakin makes it to the temple. anakin knows (at least a little) what it means to be a jedi. it’s not all light sabers and noble battles and fighting the good fight. it’s about sacrifice and humility and nobility and above all kindness and empathy and loving all things, great and small, and not letting your personal hatreds cloud your judgement even if it takes all your strength to do so

and most importantly to anakin: no attachments.

and that’s what anakin struggles with the most. that never changes. but this time shmi is there to explain it to him, and coming from shmi, the most important person in the world, makes it stick

“it doesn’t mean you love me less,” shmi explains. “it just means you don’t love everyone else less because you love me. it means not loving me to the exclusion of all else. it means love, but for everyone. for everything.”

and then the two jedi reaffirm that it’s a choice. it’s always about choice. you can’t be a jedi without choosing to be one, it’s not something that can be forced. either you believe in the lifestyle, or you don’t. simple as that.

“can i leave if i want to” anakin asks.

“yes. of course you can, any time.” qui gon responds.

“not sure why you would want to though, being a jedi is kind of super cool” obi wan adds, with a wink.

but anakin isn’t a jedi yet. he’s not even an initiate. he doesn’t want to leave his mom, not until he knows she’s safe. he wants to be a jedi he burns with the need to be a jedi, but he’s not sure if he can be a jedi. not the way that was explained to him anyways. but that’s okay because he has the time to decide!!! there are no sith lords breathing down his neck!!! he has two (2) in the flesh examples of what jedi can do, what jedi are, what they can accomplish in the world!!! most of all he has his mother there, supporting him either way!!!

maybe he does go into the order. maybe he does ultimately choose that life for himself. maybe he does manage to untangle himself from the snarls of attachment and apply himself wholeheartedly to the ways of the jedi. he might even succeed this time since palpatine has no fucking CLUE anakin’s even there!!! he’s not nine years old and freshly braided and attached at the hip to a mourning brand new knight, he’s nine years old and trying to figure out how the fuck you levitate off the ground with your legs crossed under you while his crechemates balance things onto his nose!!!

and you know what!! maybe he chooses to leave the order because it’s not for him, but this time he’s got enough stability in his life, in the way that he manages and examines his feelings, that he’s not a threat to himself and those he loves. maybe he becomes a mechanic and lives a nice, simple life with his aging mother and becomes penpals with a pretty girl from naboo. WHO KNOWWWSSS

and that’s important for anakin: knowing that it’s always a choice always his choice and that he never has to have anyone tell him who he can and cannot be because he is his own master now he has full autonomy and the jedi cannot and will not take that away from him

this got so long oh my god i just have so many THOUGHTS

qui gon taking anakin like that in tpm was such a rushed decision my man can you CHILL AND THINK

anyways,,,,, that’s all thank u for coming with me on this journey,,,,,,,

[thiswasinevitableid]

Back in Time (Indruck superhero AU)

This was based on a prompt requested by several folks on the Indruck discord, and is set in the same universe as “The Thrilling Adventures of the Green Knight,” taking place some time after “Aww, Rats.”  It deals with memory loss, so if that’s a no-go for you this is one to skip.

Duck Newton is proud of how far his boyfriend has come. How a man who was once, in his own words, “a hissing, scheming villain” now dedicates his life to protecting the city of Kepopolis, fights side by side with Duck to keep their home, their city, and their friends safe. 

But sometimes, he wishes the self-preservation instinct that ruled him as a villain made more appearances. If it did, Duck might not be sitting outside the med bay of the hideout, jiggling his knee while he waits for news. Indrid might not have thrown himself in front of the blast from Dr. Amig Dahlias’ newest invention. 

Duck might be unconscious in the med bay instead, but he’ll take that outcome any day.

The door slides open and Dani pokes her head out, “He’s waking up.”

“Oh thank fuck.” He rushes inside, takes Indrid’s hand as the silver-haired man groans and shifts on the cot. 

“S’okay sugar, you’re in the base, everyone is safe, just take it easy.”

Red eyes blink open. Then stay that way, wide and scanning the room.

“I...I am glad everyone is safe. That is good. But, ah, I, I…” he turns to look at Duck, “I’m sorry, I do not know who any of you are.”

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

“Is it permanent?” Duck corners Dr. Octavius the minute he’s out of the room. The doctor is one of the best when it comes to dealing with damage from supers of all kinds. 

“I’m not sure. That blast he was hit with dealt a massive blow to his memory; as far as I can tell, he can’t remember anything from his past. Not his childhood, not his time as a villain, not all of you. I don’t know if this was the intended result, but the blast also severely dampened his precognition; his powers are functionally dormant.”

“Fuck.”

Dr. Octavius sets a hand on his shoulder; they’ve known each other a long time, he’s been patching Duck up since his days with the Chosen Squad. Some childish part of Duck’s brain had hoped he could make Indrid better, the way he always made Duck. 

“It may not be permanent, and I think the chances are good the memories are all suppressed, rather than gone. I’ll consult with some colleagues to see what can be done.”

“Thanks, Doc. Is he okay? I mean, uh, is he scared or anythin?”

“Mainly confused, which is understandable.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Thanks.” He waves as the man departs, then grabs his phone. Maybe there’s someone else who can help. 

Dr. Mwangi arrives a half hour later; she’s Indrid’s therapist and, like Dr. Nelson, the vet, she’s one of the few people in Kepopolis whose office is neutral territory. She helps supers of all alignments, and Indrids’ flashbacks are more easily handled since he started seeing her. 

“Just...do you think there’s anythin I can do to help him remember?”

“Any photographs, items of emotional significance from his past or present, those might help bring some memories back to the surface. Maybe taking him places that he’s fond of, or where important things happened. And I agree with you all that keeping all the super hero business quiet for now, as it could be completely overwhelming. Other than that, all we can be is patient. Is he staying with you?”

“Yeah. Our place is the safest, thanks to all the security he installed, so if word gets out where we live or that he’s incapacitated in some way, no one’ll be able to get in and hurt him.”

“That’s good. But I was more concerned with the need for him to be with someone he trusts. Even if he doesn’t remember you, I suspect he’ll feel safe with you.”

Duck looks into the other room, where Indrid is chatting with Aubrey (“I have a niece? That’s wonderful”). 

“God, I hope so.”

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

“You are...my boyfriend?”

“Yeah” Duck is fighting to keep a gentle smile on his face, to not crumple at the lack of recognition in Indrid’s eyes, “we been together almost two years.”

“You seem very nice. And handsome. I must be very lucky.”

“Here we are.” Duck flips on the lights, shuts the door and arms it, “home sweet home.”

“This is love--OH, oh hello.” Indrid smiles as Chicken runs up to them, demanding her dinner, “who is this.”

Duck’s heart twists with disappointment for the three-hundreth time that day; he keeps hoping the next thing they encounter will be the one to jog Indrid’s memory.

“That’s Chicken.”

“She’s so charming. I had no idea cats could be hairless.”

Duck nods with a tight smile, is digging out the new bag of cat food when Indrid chirps with delight. 

“Rats! You have rats!” His face is pressed to one of the boxes of Ratopia, his mischief of five scurrying up to greet him, “I love rats, they are so clever and resourceful.”

“They’re, uh, they’re more yours than mine. They missed you, see?” He opens the nearest door on the enclosure and five furry little bodies run out, squeaking for treats and attention. Void clambers up Indrid’s body like a black comet, letting out indignant noises when he finds Indrids coat without it’s usual special pocket for his “heart rat.” Indrid scoops Void into his hands, studying him. 

“I am sorry, little ones. You seem to know me, but I don’t know you. I would like to, though.”

“You, uh, you wanna spend some time with them while I get dinner goin?”

“Yes, please.”

Duck starts water on the stove, pulls down the box of pasta, when Indrid speaks from behind him. 

“The same applies to you, you know. I do not know you, Duck Newton.”

The box crunches in half in his hands

“But I would very much like to.”

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

It’s been three weeks, and Indrid’s memory shows no signs of returning. Duck tries to hold onto hope, tries looking on the bright side, but it all turns to rubble when he feels the empty space beside him in bed, makes a comment or reference only for Indrid to blink in confusion. 

There is one bright spot, which is that Indrid insists Duck starts their courtship over. He’s adamant that he wants to build up to dating Duck again, that he clearly has met someone wonderful and is not about to let a little bout of amnesia get in the way, thank you very much. 

So Duck takes him on date after date, finding some happiness in watching Indrid experience things he enjoys for a second-first-time. They get Gelato, Mrs. Nguyen shooting Duck a puzzled look when Indrid asks to sample several flavors, rather than ordering his usual Blue Moon with marshmallow sauce on top. They go to the movies, the zoo, to one of Aubrey’s magic shows, and all the while Duck keeps his hands glued into his pockets; Indrid is still learning to be comfortable with him, and he will not so much as brush a hair from his face unless he’s sure it’s what he truly wants. 

When Indrid takes his hand as they’re walking out of a movie, Duck tears up with embarrassing speed. 

Today, they’re in the Monongahela, Duck taking Indrid on the lake loop. As they round a patch of reeds, the taller man points out onto the sparkling water. 

“What kind of ducks are those?”

“Wood Ducks” he replies softly, then laughs to himself, “you must really like ‘em, they were one of the first things you ever, uh, ever asked me about.”

“Really? I suppose that makes sense, their coloration is stunning.”

“Yeah.” Duck watches the two birds paddling on the water; he can’t be certain, but he thinks they’re the same mated pair that fascinated Indrid two years ago. The memory of Indrid, voice curious and shy rather than taunting, asking Duck what the bird was over the phone makes him ache down to his neurons. 

“I’m sorry, Duck. I know this cannot be easy on you.” Indrid is watching him through his slightly tinted tortoiseshell glasses, “to have to wait for me to fall in love with you again.”

“‘Drid” Duck takes him by his shoulders so they’re face to face, “I can’t lie for shit, so I ain’t gonna say I don’t wake up everyday hopin you remember me. But what I want outta all of this is for you to be happy, to have whatever kind of life feels right to you. Even if we don’t end up together in it or I, uh, I ain’t in at all.”

Strangely, Indrid smiles, soft and bright, as the admission hangs between them. Then he cups Duck’s cheek and leans down, kissing Duck so lightly that it’s only the sensation of too-cold hands on his skin that let’s Duck know he isn’t dreaming. 

“Wha-”

“It just felt right.” Indrid smiles wider, and holds a little tighter, wondering if this is it.

His phone rings, the tone that signals “shits going down, suit up.”

“Fuck.” He grabs it, brings it to his ear “go for Duck”

“It’s the fucking White Star boys again. They’re threatening to set off a bomb from the top of the GreenBriar Mall and are causing a major scene downtown.” From the sound of it, Barclay is driving as he talks. 

“Fuck, okay, lemme get Indrid somewhere safe and I’ll be right there.”

“Somewhere safe? Duck, what’s going on.” Indrid pulls his sweater around himself

“Long story, swear to fuckin god I’ll tell you later, now come on.” They run back to the car and Duck floors it out onto the highway. The nearest safehouse is close to the mall, so he can drop Indrid there, change, and go help his friends. 

This plan goes up in a literal cloud of smoke as cylinder hits the hood of the car, releasing a black cloud and causing Duck to careen into a fire hydrant. 

“Guess we’re closer to the whole mess than I thought.” He grumbles, grabbing his spare mask from the glove box and ripping off his shirt to reveal his hero garb underneath, “you okay?”

“Not really, as we just crashed and there is a lot of yelling happening outside.”

Duck takes his hand, “It’s probably obvious, but I’m a superhero, and a bunch of dipshits are tryin to blow up innocent folks. Stay close to me, I’ll try’n get you somewhere safe and come find you after this is taken care off.”

Indrid does not look convinced, holds onto Duck’s hand like he’ll be sucked up into space if he lets go. 

“It’ll be okay, ‘Drid. I promise.”

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

He focuses on Duck’s hand as they run, as if the link between them is enough to keep him safe. The chaos around them, the shouting and dust and disaster in the air, it all feels familiar. Then again, of his boyfriend is a superhero, maybe Indrid’s been in this situation before. 

Duck’s fingers are ripped from his own as the hero is tackled by a bulked-up man with a white star on his back. They two grapple on the ground, rolling out of sight in the surrounding smoke. Before he can call out, pain shatters through the back of his head and he hits the ground, pavement scraping his hands. He flips over, finds another starred man sneering down at him. 

“There you are. We all had bets going on whether the good doctor killed you with that ray.”

“I” Indrid scrambles back on his hands, head ringing too hard for him to stand up, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb, Cold. Everyone knows where the Knight is, you’re right behind him like some weird fucking shadow.”

“I’m not, I swear, please, I have no idea what’s going on.”

The man hits a button on his belt, and a short staff, covered in what looks like sci-fi barbed wire, springs into his hand. 

“Let me tell you, then: you’re a pain in the ass, and I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

“Wait, please” his hand connects with something cold, and his fingers tell him it’s a bit of broken pipe. 

“Oh yeah, it’s gonna be fun to squash you like the bug you are.”

Indrid watches him raise the weapon. His fingers curl around the pipe. 

And he lets instinct take over.

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

Most of the mob scatters as soon as Aubrey gets the smoke under control, but some of the more determined White Star Boys put up a fight. Duck throws one off of him, turns towards the commotion of two more fighting-

Oh fuck.

“Indrid!” He runs towards the melee, then skids to a stop as his boyfriend takes one down with a skilled, precise blow to the head. The lands a cut on his cheek with a Bowie knife and Indrid snarls, whirling to break the offending hand and knocking the man’s head to the side with the lead pipe he’s using as a staff. 

The man goes down, hands weakly covering his face, and Indrid hits him again. And again. 

“Moth, for fucks sake, stop! He’s down, you don’t gotta kill him!”

Indrid locks eyes with Duck, tilts his blood-spattered head to the side.

“You have the wrong villain, hero. I am The Sword. And you are in my way.”

Indrid lunges and Duck braces to take the hit that never comes. There’s hissing and cursing from above him, and he looks up to see Indrid trapped in red light.

“I came to help the Lady Flame” The Quell regards Indrid with sorrowful eyes, “but it seems we have a far worse problem than those little  power-mad stars.”

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

“He’s much quieter than his brother” Stern stands outside the Pine Guard holding cell with Duck, while Indrid sits calming inside, eyes shut as if in sleep, “The Flame monologues whenever he gets a chance.”

“Of all the goddamn parts of his life to remember” Duck clonks his head into the wall. 

“I called every specialist on our roster; the consensus is that one of the white star boys must have attacked him. In moments of that kind of intense stress and fear, sometimes people revert back to what they first learned. In Indrid’s case, it was his training to be the perfect villain.”

Duck grunts in acknowledgement, keeps his head on the wall so he doesn’t have to look at the man he loves reverted to his worst instincts. 

“I promise we’ll take good care of him until our next move becomes clear.”

“Thanks, Joe.”

The agent takes a final look through the glass, “We’ll get him back somehow. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They’ve just reached the parking lot when alarms sound and lights flash, Joe’s communicator ringing like mad. He looks at it and blanches. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Indrid got out?” It’d be the perfect, shitty cap to a perfectly shitty day.

“Yes. Do you want me to call in back-up?”

Duck shakes his head, “No. I was real good at huntin’ down the Moth. Think I can find The Sword the same way.”

He doesn’t add, as Joe wishes him good luck, that he has a horrible feeling he already knows where Indrid is. 

Unlocking the apartment door, he takes two steps before his own SmartWhips close around his torso and arms. Indrid steps out of the hall, grinning at him.

Duck sighs, “Yeah. That’s why I figured.”

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

Indrid studies the trapped hero, wondering if he should ask him the main question  on his mind, which is whether this location they’ve been pretending is an apartment is Indrid’s hide-out or his. He’s been searching it for twenty minutes and even with his foresight back he cannot tell. He did find his staffs, smart glasses that are confusingly red rather than silver, and a set of wings he knows are based on a prototype of his. 

But that is not the most important question to his mission. 

“Where is The Flame?”

Duck shakes his head, “Not tellin you. You were the smartest villain I ever faced, Indrid, and I don’t doubt you could bust him out no problem. But you and I both know you don’t want that.”

“It is my duty to free my partner. It is for the best.”

“Is it really? You honestly tellin me you wouldn’t be happier far, far away from that brother of yours?”

Indrid forces his face to stay calm, but his guts twist; how could Duck know how often he wishes Apollo would go on a mission and never come back, or just leave him be for a few days so he could do something, anything other than villainy.

“You know nothing of my brother.”

“The last time he saw you, he tried to blow you up, tortured me, and then tried to kill in some weird trainin arena. He’s a cruel, egotistical dipshit.” 

“That...that sounds exactly like him. Very well, maybe you do know what you are talking about. So tell me where he is, and I will not be forced to get the information from you another way.”

Duck squirms, afraid, but stays silent. Indrid hauls his to his feet.

“Tell me where he is.”

“No. Let him rot, it’s what he deserves.”

“What he deserves is immaterial. What matters is he will get out one way or another and if he does it without my help he will-”

Duck gives a knowing look. Indrid huffs, drops him back to the ground. 

“Nevermind.”

“He’ll hit you with that lightning rod of his? Or threaten to drown you, like he did that time in, uh, in Kansas City?”

“Would you kindly shut up so I can think?” Indrid turns on his heel, begins pacing. Duck knows a great deal, which means Indrid must have confided in him at some point, likely before he lost his memory. Maybe he was interrogated by him? But even then it doesn’t make sense; Indrid can withstand any kind of torture. Well, almost any kind.

Why on earth did he tell the hero those things?

He spots the rat run, the little black one (Void, that was what Duck called him) sending demanding squeaks his way through the plexiglass. Indrid leans down, touching his fingertip to the glass to mirror the placement of the rat’s paw.

“I wonder if I could take you with me. Doubtless you would make a skilled minion.”

“‘Drid, the scariest thing he’s ever done is wear those glasses that make him look like a giant monster rat to scare off intruders.”

“What part of ‘shut up’ was unclear, chivalrous one?” Indrid glances over his shoulder, finds the hero sitting up with a hopeful expression.

“That nickname. ‘Drid, it’s the first time you called me that since you lost your memory. Do you remember anythin’ else about that name, about why you call me it?”

He thinks, gets flashes of images that he’s certain are the past, not the future; Duck, the Green Knight, throwing him out a window, chasing him from warehouses, trapping him in those blasted SmartWhips. Oh yes, he remembers him now.

“You. You are my nemesis.” 

“Uh, I was, but-”

Indrid laughs, high and sharp to cover the disappointment in his chest, “Oh that is diabolical. I lose my memory and what do you all do? You put me in the hands of my nemesis, convince me that I had a life with someone who cared for me as if that could change my nature. Not even I could concoct a plan that cruel, chivalrous one.”

“Indrid, please, you gotta remember the rest.”

“I do not need to do any such thing. But it does change what I do with you.” He stalks forward, wrenching Duck up by his hair. 

The whips close around his wrists, trapping them together. 

“Let me go this instant!”

“No can do, sugar. I ain’t gonna fight you, but I ain’t gonna let you hurt me, or anyone else.”

“You” Indrid sees the explanation coming, “you stole one of my smart picks! You are as bad as Apollo is!”

“Trust me, I ain’t.”

Indrid tries to hurl him against the counter, but Duck holds fast, causing the villain to simply unfurl the whip some. The hero giggles, quiet at first, then growing louder.

“Christ, it’s like fuckin deja vu, you and me bein like this. At least I did it on purpose this time.”

The villain is about to snap that there’s nothing funny about being trapped with one’s nemesis. Then the memory comes, he and Duck taken from enemies to allies in an instant as they tried to undo the malfunctioning smartwhip trapping them together. The night, about a week later, when Duck sent a spy B.U.G just to make sure Indrid wasn’t too badly hurt from a fight. 

The Green Knight, looking after the Moth as if he was a friend, not a villain. 

The Moth. He’s the Moth.

He surges forward, slamming his lips against Ducks mouth. The hero gasps, bound hands gripping the front of Indrid’s black shirt.

“My love, my love, Duck, I’m sorry, I am so sorry, one moment, I can get us unraveled.” He kisses him again, his mind and body registering the full weight of almost a month without his hero’s touch.

“Please tell me this means what I think it does” he mumbles into Indrid’s mouth.

“It does my love. More or less. Things are not coming back in a linear fashion, but it feels as if my memories have all awakened and will be in order eventually. I, I feel like myself, my full self, again.”

“Thank sweet baby christ, fuck” Duck huddles close, shoulders shaking, “didn’t know how much longer I could stay calm, you’re fuckin terrifyin  when you want to be.”

“Oh, oh dear, apologies” The whips drop to the ground, “I did not remember, I, I was more lethal, more willing slash and burn when I was The Sword, I never wanted you to be on the receiving end of that, oh goodness, I’m so sorry, my sweet.” He holds Duck to him, buries his face in his hair when he thinks of what he might have done.

“You’re back.” Duck presses a kiss to his neck, “you’re back. That’s all that matters, fuck, I missed you so much.”

Indrid shuts his eyes, holds fast to the man who makes his mind sing “home” with every beat of his heart.

“I missed you too, chivalrous one.”

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

Dr. Amig Dahlia prowls towards her laboratory. The Pine Guard brought her latest scheme crashing down, and it’s high time to make them all into blank slates, the way she did with the meddlesome Moth. At least he’s still nowhere to be found.”

“Hello, doctor.”  

Seated directly in front of the memory ray is none other than The Moth. He stands, patting the ray, “this is a very clever device, and had it not made my life, and the lives of others, miserable, I might applaud you for it. As it is, I am here to demand you disable it, and turn yourself in.”

“Last I checked, my ray didn’t damage your intelligence, so that idiotic idea must be all yours.”

The Moth cocks his head, “Is that a no?”

In answer, she steps forward, pressing in the sequence to arm the device. 

The hero stays put, right in it’s path, “firing on me will not end well. I  modified your device while you were distracted by my teammates. It will backfire when you pull the trigger”

“Nice try,but you’ll need a more convincing lie to get out of this one.” The lights on the side of the ray turn green. 

The wide smile changes, all ice and edges, “Before you make your choice, consider this; Because of you, I almost hurt the man I love.”

She rolls her eyes, touches the trigger, and white light explodes all around her.

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

“What did you do to that ray?” Duck stands next to him as they watch medics help a sobbing Amig Dahlia into an ambulance. 

“In addition to reversing the direction of the energy, I changed how it interacts with memory; instead of blanketing them over it pulls certain ones out and plays them on repeat. Namely, it pulls out those memories one would most like to forget.”

“Jesus.”

“Believe it or not, the futures show this being an exercise in empathy. The effects are not permanent, and when she comes out of them she will swear off villainy and move to Key West.”

He does not add that this seems a fitting quid pro quo for the fact recovering from her device means memories of his childhood appear without warning more than they usually do.

Duck is no longer beside him. There’s a metallic crack, and the hero drops the two halves of the ray on the ground. 

“Just to be safe.”

“A wise idea, chivalrous one.”

They finish up at the hidden lab, and the Moth and The Green Knight disappear into the Pine Guard base. Twenty minutes later, Indrid Cold and Duck Newton step inside their home. It’s warm and comfortable, bustling with love and promise. 

Just like Indrid remembers. 

[radramblog]

Every Boros Commander, Part 2

Where we last left off, I was shitting on Adriana, Captain of the Guard, who gives ACAB a pretty different meaning. Fortunately, most of the pickings this time aren’t quite as dire.

Depala, Pilot Exemplar (3rd most played as of writing)

Holy shit, a Boros commander with card advantage? It’s niche, but it was a first. Being limited to Dwarves and Vehicles does leave her with a problem a lot of commanders and tribes tend to have, which is being just a smidge under critical mass- but with the upcoming Kaldheim appearing to support Dwarves, and vehicles appearing to be a deciduous mechanic, I feel like it won’t be long before Depala is as powerful as her placement suggests. She is niche and mana-hungry, but basically the only Vehicle commander (and definitely the only Dwarf commander at the moment), so I suspect she’s here to stay for a while.

Tiana, Ship’s Caretaker (15th most played as of writing)

Tiana is possibly my favourite character lorewise in all of magic, frankly. She’s cool and cute and a massive dork and also someone who found her purpose in life, and frankly I love that for her. 

She’s also a really interesting commander to build around, seeing as she has a unique brand of card advantage that leads to the addition of old and weird cards, which I’m always a fan of. I should really get around to building a Tiana deck, to be honest, though I already have 10 commander decks with an 11th in progress, sooooo…

Firesong and Sunspeaker (4th most played as of writing)

I’m surprised to see F&S this high, but the first unique Buy-a-Box card did expand into an archetype previously unseen in the combination in the form of Boros Spellslinger (Dalakos would later return the favour as an Izzet Equipment commander). Previously, you had to go into Pauper EDH and play fellow Minotaur Blaze Commando for this kinda deck. Like Depala, F&S are heavily played despite being niche, though the also have the benefit of being a RW minotaur commander, if you want to play White instead of Black in that deck for…some reason? The siren moo of Boros Reckoner speaks to us all, I suppose.

Sylvia Brightspear and Khorvath Brightflame (17th most played as of writing)

The only partner pair I’m discussing today on account of their monogamy. Knights and Dragons make a weird combination, seeing as there are basically no other cards that help them work together rather than apart. You could almost run them as a goodstuff deck if you wanted, seeing as many of Boros’s best creatures are Knights or Dragons, but largely I think sticking to one or the other is probably for the best. With that in mind, the pair are actually the only real commanders for either tribe within Boros- the only other Dragon is something we’ll get to, and the only knight is…Adriana…so…. The buffs given by either pair are excellent, and not something that either tribe gets easy access to typically, so I can see the appeal of them in that slot. At that point, the extra commander is just a bonus.

Aurelia, Exemplar of Justice (21st most played as of writing)

Oh, another Aurelia, and she’s worse this time. In seriousness, her ability looks like its likely to be targeting herself most of the time, and Mentor just doesn’t do enough in this format. She has enough keywords and power to Voltron, but I’m not expecting much interesting from her outside of that.

Tajic, Legion’s Edge (18th most played as of writing)

Tajic has 4 separate lines of text for some reason, and only one (ok fine two haste is nice) actually matters. Having a damage prevention effect is nice in the zone, but it doesn’t apply to himself, so if you’re planning on turning mass damage one-sided you’re going to need to protect him still. And like, what else does he do? He’s not a good aggro commander at all, his last ability is a joke, why are people playing this card? If I was in a mass damage deck I’d just play Gisela, at least she does something on the off chance she survives. Probably no-one is gonna go out of the way to kill Tajic, at least. Beats out Aurelia for biggest downgrade, imo, even if Aurelia fell from higher.

Feather, the Redeemed (Number 1 most played at time of writing)

Feather is the most popular Boros commander, by over triple the next most popular. It’s not hard to see why: she’s a cheap commander that turns any targeted cantrip into a draw engine, she synergises with so many random powerful cards that you can build her a fair few different ways, and she’s a cool story character getting a card 12ish years after her appearance in the Ravnica novels. She does so much and is so interesting that it’s completely understandable that she’s as huge as she is. I’m still never going to build her though, even with my funky Japanese copies, if only because I’m too much of a hipster.

Gerrard, Weatherlight Hero (13th most played as of writing)

Kinda funny that Gerrard’s little text that made him work in the command zone until recent rules changes is now a strict downside. Gerrard has his niche, with a Second Sunrise in the zone unsurprisingly supporting Eggs decks rather nicely, and synergising with a lot of just random bullshit. I’d probably never build him, and it seems pretty easy to make it degenerate, but I’m glad he’s here and he’s certainly better than the first iteration of the character.

Haktos, the Unscarred (12th most played as of writing)

I’m kinda surprised to see Achilles this high, considering how recent he is. He reminds me a lot of Progenitus, oddly enough, as a commander that would be good at Voltron but can’t get buffed easily by traditional means. I think adding equipment on the off-chance that it fits his heel is a complete mistake, but things like Silverblade Paladin and Exalted cards do exist, so fair play. He’s pretty hard to kill unless you’re boardwiping, and even then damage-based ones probably miss, so I can see the value in that. But that mana cost hurts to look at- hitting 2 mana of 2 different colours on turn 4 was a pain back when I played Trostani, and that was a green deck.

Stet, Draconic Proofreader (No data available)

Okay look, I tried so hard to find a way to abuse this dork’s ability but there’s just no good way to do it. Stet sucks hard enough that even if you are playing with Silver-Bordered cards legal I just don’t know why you’d ever run it. His art is pretty funny, I’ll give it that. We got Alexander bloody Clamilton and Surgeon Commander in the same cycle, keep in mind.

Winota, Joiner of Forces (2nd most played as of writing)

Having menaced standard, Winota is still pretty decent as a commander, even without access to her 7-mana blue payload.  There actually aren’t that many beefy humans to cheat out in general, but considering how easy it is to enable her ability and the fact that she digs *6 cards deep* on trigger, I think you just kinda end up swarming the board distressingly easy with her deck. It’s shocking to see a card from 2020 in the top 5 like this, considering how the year has gone for the format in general, but like. 6 cards.

Zirda, the Dawnwaker (8th most played as of writing)

Look it combos with Basalt/Grim monolith in the command zone isn’t that neat. Zirda is pretty open-ended, but not especially powerful outside of the aforementioned combo. I find them much more appealing in the Companion slot, frankly. With that said, I do like that Boros is the colour pair getting access to Training Grounds in the zone, seeing as it works well with its other themes (Equipment mostly) and opens new archetypes (Cycling, etc.) up as possibilities.

Akiri, Fearless Voyager (7th most played as of writing)

Haha, Brion has more decks than Akiri. That’s probably since it only released a few months ago. Of course, I’m not including the other Akiri, so this is the first time we’ve seen her on the list. But apart from that, Akiri was somehow the first of these commanders to actually say “draw” on it. Her synergies with Living Weapon (and the recent equipment cards that do the same) are pretty sick, though her second ability will end up costing a lot of mana over time if you have to use it. I think its hilarious how much more value this gives you than Adriana for doing the thing Adriana wants you to do, at 2 less mana.

Also, she’s probably the best general for Kor tribal? I guess you could go Akiri/Black partner so you can play Orah in the deck. Someone build this! Kor like equipment, Akiri likes equipment, lets go.

It’s only just occurred to me that Akiri gives you more for attacking other players than Adriana does. Fuckin hell, man.

Bell Borca, Spectral Sergeant (25th most played as of writing)

Bell finally getting a card 15 years after his fictional death was a welcome treat, but the exile-related ability is frankly awkward and abusing it to 1 or 2 hit commander damage is pretty difficult. Still, having impulse draw in the zone makes him probably just the best generic #goodstuff commander. I’m surprised he’s as low as he is, but he only released a month ago (at time of writing) and we got an absolute stack of legends (including 2 other Boros ones and the partners) in the same set.

Reyav, Master Smith (28th most played as of writing)

Reyav is neat since he combines 2 of Boros’s more traditional archetypes, being Aggro and Voltron, into one damage doubling dwarf. I suspect his lack of play is again due to the other legends in the same set and that it only dropped a month ago, because there’s no way he deserves to be below Munda. Also, he’s 2 mana! The only other 2CMC Boros Legend is partner Akiri! How did that happen? I think he deserves better. You can suit him up and get dunking real quick.

Wyleth, Soul of Steel (16th most played as of writing)

Our final general is Boros’s second ever Precon commander, and the only one with flavour text. He’s got the space for it, considering how much work that second line is doing. I appreciate that Wyleth, despite being superficially similar to Akiri, plays pretty differently, as he prefers Voltron while she prefers spreading equipment out. I assume Wyleth would be a lot higher if the precon itself was included, but there’s no way of knowing how many people are playing just the base deck, so who knows.

A CHALLENGER APPROACHES!!!

Koll, the Forgemaster (no data available) This bloke got spoiled between me writing most of this and going to publish it. I can see a few easy combos with his first ability, especially seeing as Grafted Wargear is a card. Playing fairly though, his first ability feels kinda slow, and not being able to protect himself is a huge drag. The second ability feels kinda stapled on, as its a way of giving you a bonus since the first one doesn’t do shit for tokens. But like, just don’t equip them, lmao. Awkward, but has potential.

And that’s the lot of them! Uhhhh yeah that’s all I’ve got, stan Tiana kthnxbai

[potatowitch]

finding out that the star wars sequel series was written on the fly rather than actually planned out makes so much fucking sense but also pisses me off EVEN MORE because i watched the force awakens in 2016 and within a day of leaving the cinema had a fully fleshed out idea in my head of the direction the next two films would take and the plot points they would cover, all brainstormed in the shower. 16 year old me was more capable of writing a cohesive storyline than disney was. so here you are - i rewrote the sequels to be ten times better than what disney actually gave us. enjoy.

- after rey finds luke they train for a bit then he's like "gotta tell u something. u ever heard of mara jade? she's ur mum" "wait weren't u two dating for a bit" "yeah" "does that mean ur...." "...yeah"

- "why did u leave me on jakku?" "i didnt. she did. i only just learned u existed i wouldve come for u" "oh."

- "...can i call u dad or" "i would be honored if u did"

- meanwhile at the resistance base leia realises finn is force sensitive, gives him her old lightsaber she had in the comics

- because come on. rewatch the force awakens and tell me that man aint fuckin feeling the "shitloads of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced" when starkiller goes off

- and he picks up a lightsaber and instinctively knows how to use it?

- also: two main heroes in a star wars film being a queer coded woman and a queer coded black man.

- and the whole "used to be a stormtrooper and defected, becomes a jedi" is a TOTALLY NEW storyline? not some tired old "white boy villain is a dick for three movies then suddenly turns Good TM right at the end" trope

- make rey explicitly asexual. she's beautiful and smart and got abs that make everyone who sees them MELT but she is NOT INTERESTED in anything but JUSTICE and PLATONIC HUGS

- finn and poe are also making out because come on, disney, if u wanted to show you're becoming more progressive having a loving interracial gay romance is the fucking easiest way to do it. BB8 has two dads and they share The Jacket

- turns out finn is a kenobi because u cannot tell me obi wan didnt Fuck. jedi code says "dont form attachments" but watch the clone wars - obi wan plays fast and loose w the jedi code at the best of times. now we got a skywalker and a kenobi working together being best buds again, THE WAY IT SHOULD BE.

- the destruction of starkiller has crippled the first order. don't fucking look at me like "the resistance just won a major, VERY VISIBLE victory but OOO no somehow they're still very low on numbers and infrastructure" NO. the public destruction of starkiller has earned the resistance an influx of allies. the republic has started publicly supporting them. the first order spent years building that thing and now not only is all that time, effort and MONEY gone, they lost a shitload of staff and military personnel when it blew up

- "the first order is rich" is a plot point I DO NOT UNDERSTAND because it directly contradicts what's going on in the expanded universe books. the first order was built from remnants of the empire that had been banished to the outer reaches of the galaxy to live out of broken down, shitty old star destroyers.

- it's the reason hux, who was raised in a decrepit old academy in the ass end of the universe by an abusive father, is SO anti republic. in his head, it's the reason he starved as a child. it's the reason his mother is dead. it's the reason he had to be raised by a father that beat him. his hatred for the republic is PERSONAL

- disney learn how to write a good villain challenge? hux EASILY could have been terrifying AND sympathetic

- hux and kylo now have to deal with how absolutely PISSED snoke is that both of them failed with starkiller. hux gets force choked and threatened. kylo gets snoke very painfully rooting around in his head. it is emphasised that snoke's relationship with these two is downright abusive.

- somewhere in there, they realise that the whole five years they've known each other snoke has been deliberately pitting them against each other and sneakily forcing them to undermine each other's authority

- they realise it was snoke's shitty leadership that lead to the destruction of starkiller. they realise that maybe they'd be better off on their own

- the two of them plot to murder snoke themselves. while this is happening, the resistance is happily building an army, gathering resources, and forming alliances. luke and rey have reunited with the resistance and now rey and finn are both happily training with luke.

- snoke dies. hux decides to take the mantle of emperor. kylo LETS HIM because he realises he doesn't know shit about fuck when it comes to leading anything more than his knights. has a crisis of confidence about how useful he actually is, then hux decides he wants to keep the knights of ren around as his personal "fuck up the resistance" squad.

- the two of them working together turn out to be fucking terrifying, competent villains. the films have short, five to ten minute sections where they explore their VERY SIMILAR traumas to make them sympathetic WITHOUT making them seem like "uwu they're not actually bad people" because THEY'RE STILL AWFUL GENOCIDAL MASS MURDERERS

- on the kylo trauma side: it's made obvious in the books that from about age 6 snoke has been in his head deliberately grooming him away from his family. make that obvious in the films. make its impact on kylo obvious in how unsure of himself he actually is. don't make his "redemption arc" one where he suddenly goes light side. give him a bastardisation arc where he realises his whole life he has never made a choice - and then make THE FIRST ORDER his choice. (it is the wrong choice! emphasise that! but make him MAKE THAT CHOICE)

- the resistance thinks they're doing well. they have two new jedi. they've seen very little of the first order outside of small operations that they've been squashing. they think "hm. starkiller's loss must have crippled them. we're doing well!"

- until they learn actually. they've got an emperor now. and the commander of the knights of ren is INCREDIBLY loyal to him. the first order is PISSED OFF and VENGEFUL. they're back with a force. they've started invading and subjugating planets even with their forces cut as thin as they are because hux is a military mastermind and kylo and the knights of ren are a fucking TERRIFYING unit in combat.

- also why did disney decide to present hux in the films as a weak pissbaby when he probably topped his class in all combat situations and fights dirty in close quarters. man can SNIPE. man will bite your fucking finger off if you manage to disarm him. he is a 6 foot beanpole and he will kick your ass

- kylo has a crisis about actually having to kill his mother, uncle and cousin. he still feels a bit bad about han - despite everything, he still loves them and is struggling. he actually confides in his knights about this. we get to see that the knights of ren have a found family dynamic with their commander and they comfort him.

- kylo realises it will be painful to murder the last of his bio family but it must be done, because he's come around to hux's view that the resistance and the republic are standing in the way of true peace in the galaxy. he actually believes that reinstating an empire is the best thing for the galaxy. this makes him a more effective villain because he actually believes what he's doing is right.

- more stormtroopers defect to the resistance. finn is there to welcome them and help them adjust. there's a couple of lowkey force sensitive troopers in there too. we learn more about how horrible, soul crushing and traumatic stormtrooper training is. this is a good way to keep painting the first order as an organisation that violates human rights and the geneva convention at every turn.

- the first order makes up for this loss of troops in picking up recruits from the planets they've taken over in the outer rim because they've been providing stability. again - it is SO EASY to write the first order as sympathetic villains WHO ARE STILL FASCIST ASSHOLES. this would've been such a good opportunity to show the moral argument between stability vs freedom. show the flaws in the republic because they do exist!! we see that throughout the ENTIRE expanded universe! every iteration of the republic fails in some way!

- the fight against the first order becomes increasingly more difficult, but they're actually on pretty even ground. it doesn't make sense to me that disney decided to go for the route of "the resistance should've been squished easily by the might of the first order but uwu kylo can't make up his mind and thats what saves them!" that is not a compelling storyline! they are relatively evenly matched and the resistance only JUST comes out on top!

- kylo kills luke in actual combat, not just "luke randomly dissolves for ... no good reason?". this hits the resistance HARD. rey and finn have to struggle with their desire for revenge. leia realises her son is beyond help. it nearly breaks her. she has a moment where she feels like she has lost everything. poe has to step in to remind her she still has him. it is revealed that he joined the resistance after the first order killed his family HORRIBLY when he was a teenager and he and leia sort of have a mother/son relationship.

- this is also a good way to juxtapose hux and kylo. they took their trauma and it made them awful. poe takes his trauma and it makes him kind. it makes him want to protect people from what he went through. also gets rid of the "haha we made the latino man have a drug dealer background" bullshit that disney did

- poe also has to comfort his boyfriend and best friend and remind them that they are fighting to make the galaxy a better place, NOT for revenge. then they have a discussion about "yeah, don't make revenge your main priority, but the jedi were a bit wrong in saying that you shouldn't enjoy it anyway. it's going to feel good to fucking murder kylo and that's okay". acknowledgement that the old jedi code was garbage and too restrictive for actual PEOPLE to follow it.

- kylo still can't kill leia or chewie. we get flashbacks of her singing to him, braiding his hair, comforting him after nightmares. we see baby ben riding on chewie's shoulders. seeing the conflict between kylo recognising his family loved him and still choosing to be a villain would have RUINED ME. he tells hux this, expecting hux to shoot him for it. hux understands - he had a mother, once. the republic killed her.

- (they actually didn't. she was an imperial slave and was probably left behind when an imperial settlement was being razed. the only reason hux actually survived was because he was his father's only heir. there's a whole spiel in the books about brendol going "this kid is a piece of shit bastard i dont want him" and imperial officials being like "the empire needs kids. go pick him up")

- hux decides to kill leia instead. he nearly dies doing so because woman is STILL a force to be reckoned with even at this age. remember she is actually trained to use a lightsaber AND guns. the only reason hux doesn't die? kylo steps in at the last minute and kills his own mother. he's made his choice. he mourns, and then he steels. there is nothing left to pull him to the light side anymore.

- anakin has given up trying to bring his grandson to the light from beyond the grave. him and obi wan are focusing their force ghost attention on rey and finn. now luke and leia are both there too. we get the same "all my jedi ancestors are rooting for me" moment that disney gave us, except now it's shared between rey and finn.

- the two of them plus chewie cut through the knights of ren until they get to kylo. he kicks the living shit out of them, but they manage to kill him. rey earns some gnarly, sexy scars. chewie needs a hug and goddamn does he get one.

- poe is the one to kill hux. he's not just doing it for the galaxy, he's doing it for leia. the first order already stole his first family from him. he won't lose his second family to them. bonus points if BB8 joins the fight and like ... tases hux in the leg a few times.

- we get some gratuitous "c3p0 and r2 are sneaking through an imperial base and fucking shit up but like, badly because 3p0 never stops talking" scenes

- you want to bring rose tico into it? she's head of the resistance's infiltration team. she's with the droids taking down shields, stabbing people in the back, freeing prisoners, stealing plans, sowing chaos. she's the one who finally takes down phasma.

- without their emperor and the knights of ren, the new empire crumbles pretty quickly. the resistance has taken HEAVY losses but they have won. we get a very beautiful funeral scene for luke and leia. there's a gorgeous group hug between finn, rey, poe, chewie and bb8. poe and finn smooch against the sunset.

- we see finn and rey going into crystal caves to get kyber crystals. poe, chewie, bb8, r2 and 3P0 wait outside the cave in the falcon for them to be done picking up their crystals, then we see finn and rey inside the falcon building their new lightsabers with guidance from a bunch of force ghosts. we get to see that rey has chosen to decorate the inside of the falcon with a bunch of potted plants so she can be surrounded by greenery at all time. the found family aesthetic is STRONG

- rey builds a saber pike. it comes out golden. finn builds a standard single blade saber that comes out white, like ahsoka's. gold to emphasise protection of the weak and the perfect blend of combat and scholarly pursuits. white to emphasise free will from both the jedi and the sith. it is emphasised that these two will NOT be your traditional jedi.

- we see an epilogue where poe is working to help shift the republic's focus from political squabbling to actually protecting its citizens. he leads reconstruction efforts, helps establish more of a presence in the outer rim, constantly fights for moving resources from protecting the republic's assests to providing food, shelter and safety to its citizens.

- finn is constantly by his side. we see him protecting his new husband, on the front lines destroying remnants of the empire and the first order, and using his combat prowess to absolutely murder slave owners.

- rey has taken to training new force sensitives with chewie by her side, however she recognises the jedi code has been failing force sensistives for millennia, and instead her teachings are more aligned with the grey jedi philosophy. she recognises that people feel anger, hate, grief - and that they are all valid emotions. it's what you choose to do with them that is important.

- she actively encourages personal connection, believing that loving your friends and family is righteous and the true path to the light side. her apprentices all adore her, and she is always there for them - she'll listen to their worries, from something as small as "i am 13 years old and my first crush just rejected me" to "i am a former slave coming to you after the first order murdered my family and tortured me. i am having nightmares and am afraid of the anger i feel".

- she encourages apprentices to stay in contact with their family, and she becomes that family for the ones who have lost theirs.

- you get the feeling that this time, peace in the galaxy is actually going to last. anakin, obi wan, luke and leia look on from the Force in pride at their children and grandchildren. they did good. they can finally rest.

- the sequels have made personal choice a major theme. finn chooses to defect. poe and rey choose to be kind, when they have every reason not to be. hux and kylo make the wrong choices. there's no flip flopping like a dead fish between good and evil until the very last second. the lines between kindness and freedom and hatred and subjugation are clearly drawn again and again.

- i sit in the cinema after the screen goes black and i weep. i am satisfied. this was a fitting end for a franchise i have loved for most of my life.

[crackimagines]

A Rough Start (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Byleth-Sama: Love is War (Part 1)

-----

Part Listings Here!

All AU’s involved listed here! 

-----

With the ball quickly approaching, Sara and Megumi have a person in mind to ask to the dance. What they quickly realize is that they want to ask the same man, and they’re about to turn Garreg Mach Monastery into a battlefield.

----

Afternoon...

[A Gentle Breeze - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

(Seteth) “And that concludes are meeting for this week. You are dismissed.”

Everyone got up and walked out the room. 

Byleth headed back to his office, Manuela and Hanneman to theirs, as Sara, Doomguy, Megumi, Towa, and Angelica walked out of the building.

Sara sighed while rubbing her head.

(Sara) “Ugh, the White Heron Cup, huh?”

(Towa) “Are you not excited by it, Sara?”

(Sara) “Not in the slightest! We gotta set up all the decorations for something that’ll last only the afternoon! Plus, we gotta see the kids do some probably boring dance.”

(Megumi) “I think it sounds fun! I can’t wait to see what kind of dances are on display!”

(Towa) “I agree with Professor Sakura! It’s a good way to see Fodlan’s culture after all!”

(Megumi) “What do you think, Slayer?”

Doomguy shrugged, indicating that these sorts of events weren’t really his thing.

(Sara) “The only thing it’s going to remind me is of the upcoming ball and how dull that night is going to be...”

(Megumi) “I’m sure there will be a guy nice enough for you to dance with, Sara!”

(Sara) “Hopefully.”

(Angelica) “Frankly, I’m happy you are taking all the guys. I’ll be going for all the cute girls that’ll show up. Heh, I wonder if I can impress anyone enough to-”

Towa hit Angelica’s head with a clipboard.

(Towa) “No hitting on ANYONE, Angie! We talked about this!”

(Angelica) “Ow, okay okay! Well anyways, who’s going to be telling the Houses this information?”

(Sara) “I got an appointment with my beer can after that meeting, so...bye!”

Sara quickly walked away back to her room.

(Towa) “Well, I guess I-”

Doomguy’s hand was put in front of her and shook his head, and pointed towards himself. Once he waved goodbye to everyone, he went to the classrooms.

(Angelica) “So, Megunee. Who’re you goin’ with?”

(Megumi) “I don’t know yet. I’m sure I’ll think of someone later tonight.”

...

Once the classroom representatives read the paper that was going to describe how their next few weeks were going to go, they voiced their opinions.

(Kazuma) “Ugh great. A ball.”

(Aqua) “What? A NEET like you can’t stomach interaction with other peo-”

(Kazuma) “STOP CALLING ME A NEET YOU BITCH!”

(Akira) “Well, I guess there are worse ways to spend a night.”

(Rean) “I bet everyone will be scrambling to get a partner soon!”

(Yu) “That’ll be exciting.”

(Minako) “Oh, I can’t wait!”

(Minato) “It’s not possible to skip this, is it?”

(Kazuma) “I’m with Minato on this one. Can we?”

Doomguy shook his head no.

(Minako) “Don’t spoil the fun on this you guys! When is the next time we’re going to get to attend something like this?”

(Akira) “She’s got a point.”

(Morgana) “Plus, it’d be remiss for us to miss a chance to attend a fancy ball! We get to work on our people skills!”

(Kazuma) “With stuffy nobles! We had to deal with them a lot last time, and that wasn’t pleasant! I got better things to do that night than hang around a buncha assholes!”

(Yu) “...Pot calling the kettle black there, Kazuma-”

(Kazuma) “And YOU be quiet! I don’t have a bunch of girls surrounding me like you all do! IT’S NOT FAIR!”

(Rean) “...We do?”

Akira, Yu, and Minato shrugged.

(Aqua) “In any case, we should go tell our groups this stuff, yeah?”

Everyone nodded.

(Minako) “We’ll catch ya tomorrow!”

Everyone went their separate ways. Kazuma grumbled under his breath as he walked with Aqua.

(Aqua) “You can’t be shut in all the time! If it’ll get you out, then I’ll take pity and take you to dance with a godde-”

(Kazuma) “I’d rather die.”

(Sothis) “As would I.”

(Kazuma) “FUCKIN’ JESUS!”

Both Aqua and Kazuma were startled by Sothis appearing in front of them.

(Aqua) “Don’t scare us like tha-...Where’s Byleth?”

(Sothis) “That child is doing paperwork currently. I am in no mood to rest, so I thought I might as well join you idiots. Now, what’s this ball I’m hearing so much about?”

(Kazuma) “Tch, well you see...”

...

(Sothis) “...What kind of asinine reasoning is that? That you’ll be miserable if you do not have someone to dance with? Just strut your moves as you see fit!”

(Kazuma) “Psh, I wish we could, then maybe I could have a bit of fun! But no, this isn’t some nightclub, it’s some boring ass ball dancing!”

(Aqua) “Ugh, I’ve had enough of your whining. I’m off to drink.”

(Kazuma) “I hope you have a hangover!”

Late Evening...

[Evening Moments - Trails of Cold Steel]

Sara slammed her mug down onto the table.

(Sara) “Ah, that’s a nice cold brew you got us tonight, Manuela!”

(Manuela) “Ugh, I’m going to need it to forget about this week. That ball is going to be a sad reminder of my life...”

(Sara) “Here here...”

(Aqua) “Yeesh, everyone’s talkin’ doom and gloom about this damn ball! You girls just need to relax alright?! We can have fun dancing together!”

(Manuela) “Oh sweetie, you don’t understand. When you’re as old as us, you’re going to be lamenting this too...”

(Aqua) “I’m older than the both of you!”

(Sara) “Right right...goddess stuff and all that.”

Manuela and Sara chugged their beer.

(Aqua) “Well fine, I’ll humor you two then! Who are you going to ask to dance?”

(Manuela) “Well, there was this cute knight I saw earlier today. He seemed like a nice enough fellow. What about you, Sara?”

(Sara) “Someone who’d dance with me regardless of my habits...”

She considered her options. Frankly not a lot of people in the Monastery could stand her, and those who did were far too young. But...

(Sara) “Aha!”

Manuela and Aqua looked at her with a curious expression.

(Sara) “I know just the man!”

...

Megumi had just finished her paperwork for the night and was headed to her rooms before she almost ran into Kasumi.

(Kasumi) “Oh, please excuse me, Sakura-sensei!”

(Megumi) “Hello, Yoshizawa. I’m sorry I almost hit you there!”

(Kasumi) “That’s a lot of papers, do you need some help?”

(Megumi) “No I-...Actually, it’d be a big help if you could, thank you!”

Splitting the papers they walked to Megumi’s room.

(Megumi) “So, are you excited for the ball that’s coming soon?”

(Kasumi) “Indeed! Doing gymnastics is a bit different from dancing, but the footing seems similar, so I’m excited to try! Have we elected a representative for the White Heron Cup yet?”

(Megumi) “No, that’s something Sara, Slayer, and I need to discuss still.”

(Kasumi) “I see, well I hope you choose well. By the way, what about you? Are you excited?”

(Megumi) “Quite a bit, actually! I’m interested in seeing how the students dance, and how Fodlan dancing is compared to Japanese. Hah, as for asking someone to the dance, that’s an ongoing problem.”

(Kasumi) “Well, you’re a very kind person, Sakura-sensei! I’m sure that anyone would be more than happy to!”

(Megumi) “Hah, thank you Yoshizawa. To be frank, it’s not a matter of getting anyone that’s bothering me, it’s just having the right person. These sorts of things should be special, you know? O-Oh! Listen to me ramble, sorry! Thank you for helping out.”

Kasumi gave Megumi the papers.

(Kasumi) “Anytime! I hope you find the person you’re looking for!”

Kasumi bowed and walked away, Megumi opening her door and putting the papers on her desk.

(Megumi) “Well, if I had to choose anyone it’d be...-”

...

Megumi went back to the offices and saw Byleth’s door spilling candlelight beneath the door.

She was about to knock before Sara came around the corner.

(Sara) “Oh, heya Megunee. What’re you doin’?”

(Megumi) “Hello Sara. I was about to ask Byleth something, but its not that important. I’ll just come back later.”

(Sara) “Neither’s mine. It was just going to be about the Ball.”

(Megumi) “What a coincidence! That’s what I was going to talk to him about.

(Sara & Megumi) “...”

(Sara) “Were you about to-”

(Megumi) “-Ask him to the ball?”

!!!

(Sara) “Sis, I’m gonna need you to stand aside.”

(Megumi) “Huh?”

(Sara) “I need this more than you do, Megunee! You don’t understand the struggles I’ve been through!”

(Megumi) “...O-Oh! You have feelings for him then? I apologize, I’ll let you ask-”

(Sara) “HUH?! N-NO I DON’T! I WAS JUST GOING TO SEE IF HIS LONELY ASS NEEDED A GIRL LIKE ME!”

(Megumi) “...But didn’t you just-”

(Sara) “Alright, that’s it! KNOW WHAT?! I THINK I GOT A BETTER IDEA! HOW ABOUT WE LET HIM CHOOSE?!”

Megumi didn’t quite understand what Sara was going on about but...

Losing to Sara on this didn’t sit quite right with her. Regardless, Megumi agreed.

(Megumi) “Alright then, that’s fine with me.”

(Sara) “We’ll see who ends up the victor! It’s going to be me!”

Sara stormed away while Megumi stood there confused for a moment before she registered what she really meant.

(Megumi) “Oooooh! Hmph! Fine! If she’s going to act like that, then I’ll make sure not to fall that easily either! This means war, Sara!”

Byleth was inside doing paperwork. He was only half paying attention to the conversation while Sothis went outside to see what was going on. She was laughing hysterically when she came back in.

(Byleth) “What was going on out there?”

(Sothis) “Oh nothing. Just a lover’s dispute.”

(Byleth) “Whoever they are, they sounded cross.”

(Sothis) Oh sweet child, you have NO idea of what’s coming...

[Love Dramatic - Love is War]

[ask-the-crimson-king]

Music Shill of the Day

[YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED IT’S AN ENTIRE FUCKING ALBUM THAT I’M SHILLING MOTHERFUCKERS.

This album is called Epitaph and it is by Pyramaze and GOOD FUCKING LORD do I love this. 

It was released on November 13th, and I have been listening to it practically non-stop ever since. Since I’ve given it a few days to settle in my brain, I am now doing a full shill for it. 

TL;DR SINCE I’M ADDING A CUT! Album slaps and y’all should go listen to it. It’s power metal (of course), very intense and emotional/uplifting sort. Best songs (in my opinion) are basically all of them. They are all good.

But if I did have to choose a top 3, it’d be:

>Steal My Crown >Final Hour >Particle or Indestructible

BUT ONTO the very rambly and more song-specific shilling.

I’m going to take this song-by-song and also link the full playlist here (youtube link, the album is also on spotify) because you can only have four videos per post and I don’t want to flood people with this thing. 

Also fair disclaimer for people who understand music; I don’t, I just enjoy this shit enough to try and share it with others. So if this sounds like a five year old trying to explain music, I’m sorry. I just am like that.

Also also disclaimer that not all of the songs have lyrics that I can find, so for some (if I posted lyrics) they are what I can decipher.

ANYWAY.

Epitaph on its own is a very beautiful sounding instrumental. It feels quiet, a little somber, but also uplifting. After going through it a few times, I can hear bits and pieces of the other songs on the album, which is a neat touch. And then it ends and smoothly transitions into A Stroke of Magic. Now, I’ve already done a shill for A Stroke of Magic, however the song, even weeks later,

STILL SLAPS. 

I love it. It is definitely a shift from Epitaph with its intensity, but it still carries over some of the instrumental into the song. I love the lyrics, I love the musicality of it, I love everything. It is one of the slower, more... forceful, if that makes any sense, songs on the album. It feels like something is slowly building and building as the song goes on, and this intensity carries into Steal My Crown. 

Steal My Crown is an absolute banger. I love it for so many reasons. I love how it opens, I love its riffs, I love how the lyrics are sung, it just is an absolute BANGER of a song. I love it so very much. It is also a bit of a slower and forceful song, but it still has that more signature intensity I’ve come to associate with these guys. 

The verses contrasting with how the chorus is sung is something I’m a sucker for. Especially with the guitars and synths hyping up the chorus and adding to this wonderful buildup. It makes the chorus sound even more powerful and amazing. I absolutely LOVE THIS SHIT. It is AMAZING.

Also love how the song ends. Just. It’s so good, guys. It’s so fucking good.

And now we come to Knights in Shining Armour.

Or, as I know it, 

“THE D&D SONG!”

Knights in shining armour, On a quest for power, Taking charge of things you'll never know. To raise the name of glory, Is bloody mandatory, If you want to end this puppet show! Knights in shining armour, Embittered by the hour. Taking charge of things you'll never see. But the road is long and torturous, Paved with steady progress, To bring this villain to his knees!

Classic D&D, anyway. It has that jaunty adventurer feel to it, and the chorus is just. It’s D&D. It is simply D&D. It’s fucking great. It is a nice lil jaunt. Don’t have much more to say, it is just a very enjoyable listen.

Bird of Prey is next. It’s maybe the weakest song on the album. I do not hate it, nor do I dislike it greatly. This entire album is amazing and absolutely slaps. However this one just feels like a song I’d hear while watching a trailer for a romcom or some sort of superhero movie with a romance b-plot for the hero. It’s not as particularly amazing as the other songs, but it’s far from horrible. Nice lil song to listen to.

Your Last Call is interesting. It’s intro is a bit different, a bit choppy, but it still definitely works for the song. That choppiness carries over throughout the song and it fits. Very nice to listen to. This one is also a bit weak on the album, but it’s still a nice song. 

AND now we come to Particle.

LET’S TALK ABOUT P A R T I C L E.

I'm chasing every particle of you, I don't wanna fight no more. But I can't believe it, I'm following your shadow's out the door. Calling out your name, but I know, I'm easily deceived and alone!  

First off, love it. Love love love it. It has a similar style and feel to Steal My Crown with that intense opening and then a more subdued verse that begins to lead into a very powerful chorus. Plus it has that little choppiness in it. 

The pre-chorus leading into the chorus just gets you ready for it to just... explode. AND IT FUCKIN DOES.

AND IT SLAPS.

And then it gives you some time to try and catch your breath before it punches you in the face again. But it’s still just... amazing. Wonderful. 

Also the lyrical content is grand and I enjoy it immensely even if it is maybe potentially a love song? Not sure completely. Still love the song anyway. 

I’m gonna be 100 with you okay.

Seeing this next song’s title I thought it may have been a cover.

It is not.

INDESTRUCTIBLE STILL FUCKING SLAPS SO DAMN HARD THOUGH.

I don’t know what we’re fighting for, Why are we trying to die so young? We are in-de, We are in-de. I don’t know what we’re fighting for, Why are we trying to die so young? We are in-de, -structible in life.

It is intense. It has that buildup. It has a great chorus. It has everything I praised the last few songs for. 

Its pacing does feel a bit different to that of Particle or Steal my Crown, but that’s part of why I still think it slaps. It just. Slaps. THE WHOLE ALBUM FUCKING SLAPS OKAY-

Alright so Transcendence.

It has a guest singer! She has a nice voice to listen to. I’m not a fan of femenine singers personally, but I like her voice.

The song itself, it feels... more somber, more like the title track than some of the other songs. Of course it has that signature intensity, but it also feels just...

Can’t really describe it. Slower. Calmer. Like a bit of a breath, for the last leg of the journey. 

Anyway.

Final Hour.

Uh.

Feels.

First of all, it just jumps right into the song. Not much of an intro before the lyrics begin. I like that. And the rythym of it is nice to listen to. 

And then the chorus...

Oh honey.

In our final hour, When the times are rough. We were sworn together, Last chance -- it's now or never! In our final hour, For the greater good. One man, of fifty million, In our sense of brilliance.

(Don’t feel too confident about those last two lines to be honest).

Fuck man. I just. Undescribable love for this song. Its entire feel of it just makes me feel kinda sad. This has a similar feel to Heroes (of Dundee) by Gloryhammer. I can’t catch all of the lyrics, and I can very well be wrong, but it feels like it has a similar theme. Of a sort of inevitability that something huge is about to happen.

Warriors are about to go off and potentially sacrifice themselves to save lives. 

A bit heavy, but I love it. 

Anyway. From something a little heavy, we get to World Forgone.

Aka something even MORE heavy. If I’m reading the lyrics correctly, it’s a song referencing how the world is becoming polluted, and how it’s dying. 

Mournful. Depressing. That somber feeling is back. Still a really good song.

And now.

We come to the end. A 12-minute song called The Time Traveler.

And GOOD FUCK I WOULD LOVE LYRICS BECAUSE THIS SOUNDS LIKE A REALLY COOL STORY IF I AM HEARING THIS CORRECTLY.

May do a Bonus Shill for this song in particular when the lyrics are released. 

This song features two guests in it, and I will say the guest singer kinda reminded me of Fabio Lione. However I haven’t heard much of that guy’s stuff outside of the song he did with Ancient Bards. 

(The guests are Lance & Matt King)

This is a very nice way to end the album. There’s talk of timelines, of maybe a sorcerer or warlock who is gaining power/succumbing to darkness. I say maybe cause THERE ARE NOT LYRICS OUT YET. I would LOVE them. I will do another shill when they come out.

SAME FOR THE OTHER SONGS WITHOUT LYRICS. Damn it. 

Anyway, this is a very good song, of course it is. The pacing of it doesn’t make it feel like you’re listening for eternity, which is something I appreciate. 

But I suppose that’s all I have to say. This post is long enough. 

THIS ALBUM SLAPS. LISTEN TO IT. ITS GOOD.]

[gedwimora-arc]

Something that bothers me a lot is that in their fervor to reject / put down sa.ns.an there are a lot of people who try and twist their entire relationship / dynamic in one that’s wholly negative, to depict Sandor as a predator or abuser or something when he’s just. Not. That’s just not the dynamic here at all.

I don’t wanna get to deeply into “ do i ship sa.ns.an / think sa.ns.an is good / etc etc ” I’ve varied on it over the years but generally my stance is that romance / love is an important element of Sansa’s arc / story as it’s part of the “ songs ” theme / narrative structure and so naturally I want her to end up in a relationship where she feels loved, protected and safe. Currently the seen / known / existing options for “ men who aren’t trash or related to her ” to marry her is like..... 3 guys and only 1 has she’s actually met which is Sandor. Assuming she’s an adult and in a good place to make these kinda choices and she picks him Great, have at it, if she meets Trystane or some other good boi™ who’s more her age and they hit it off even better. Mainly I just want her to be happy and for Sandor I just want him to be at peace, whatever form that takes, even if does mean he dies. 

My issue is really just that there are people who are so intent on ignoring the romantic elements of the ship that they blatantly rewrite the canon and misconstrue shit. I’ve seen people argue that the Unkiss ( a memory Sansa fabricated of Sandor kissing her during the BotBW scene, he didn’t he mostly menaced and cried tbh ) and her quasi-sex dream about him ( She dreams about her wedding night with Tyrion ( it’s own Yikes tbh ) but the Hound replaces Tyrion, she shows no indication of being upset about it compared to other nightmares she’s had canonically )  are coping mechanisms to deal with Sandor related / caused trauma which is just fucking BONKERS. They are, if anything, Sansa using Sandor as a vehicle for coping with other traumas. 

I think sometimes these people forget that for a WHILE there Sandor was the only person who was consistently on her side without ulterior motive and at times to his own potential determent. He’s not a good or nice man by any stretch but he genuinely cares about her and tries to look out for her. Sansa says it herself “ he was no true knight but he saved me all the same ” , he admits to her his grimdark origin story and she comforts him, then roots for him in the tourney. She understands why he’s so shitty but also calls him out on it when he’s being needlessly cruel to her. He protects her from beatings, rape and who knows what else as best he can, I mean shit if he was not her self-appointed bodyguard the mob attack scene would’ve been very different as he’s literally the only one who noticed she was gone before it was too late because he you know, gave a fucking shit about her safety and was actively looking out for her  in a dangerous setting.

I understand disliking it as a romantic ship and I don’t have beef with that, like I’m not always super hot on it as a romantic ship myself ? But I think it’s just willfully bad reading comprehension and douchery to try and make it like they’re not important to each other or that there’s not a romantic / sexual undertone. Before I get fucking shot for the last bit, the thing I think people miss on that part is that it doesn’t mean it MUST be acted upon or that it’s like a very serious thing ? Sandor does make crude comments about her and have some level of attraction to her, he’s also a crude dude in general and trying to shock her a lot of the time and purposely doesn’t act on his attraction when given the chance, even when out of his fucking gourd drunk and triggered to hell and back. He very clearly cares about her and while sure she’s pretty and he has eyes it’s much more emotional for him, she’s Kind and Good and Understanding towards him and he desperately craves that.

And with her side of it you can easily pin her fabricating the Unkiss, comparing the kisses of other men to that fake one with him, comparing men to him, her sexual/romantic fantasies now starring him instead of Loras as just part of both protecting herself from things that hurt ( her kiss w/ Tyrion at her forced wedding isn’t really her first that was Sandor! etc etc ) and her using him to explore her own sexuality safely. Loras is very boy band-y and Safe because there’s so clearly never gonna be anything there which makes him great crush material but given everything in her life so far, boy band isn’t really what it’s cracked up to be anymore. Whereas Sandor has proven in her actual life her safety is paramount to him, he’s been her faithful friend and protector as much as he could be. Sansa is a big fan of songs and a lot of his actions fit nicely into that narrative / aesthetic, saving her from the crowd, giving her his cloak to protect her modesty, offering to whisk her away from KL and he won’t hurt her. At that point in her life a man who’s built like a brick house, could snap a dude over his knee but is intensely protective and gentle towards her is honestly more appealing than being just a hottie. The concept of Sandor makes her feel Safe, she uses him, his attitude and his advice as a guide for how to navigate situations later on. Big shock that when she turns to explore her own sexuality and all that she uses Sandor as the tool to do it. Because he’s Safe. He’s not there, he can’t physically interact with her or act on anything related to these fantasies, he’s given her plenty of fodder and she can put anything “ mature “ or “ experienced “ on him to fulfill and enjoy exploring without feeling anxious about not knowing what she’s doing, she can just be like “ well Sandor would know how “ . It’s very much like if she was having the same thoughts about Theon, she knows him, he’s safe, and he’s not around to make this incredibly embarrassing. And you can literally leave that undertone at that and proceed forward figuring that, like with Loras, she’ll grow out of it with Sandor and move on to someone else, maybe whoever she’s in a healthy romantic relationship with. And that’s fine. Frankly I’m very good with her using Sandor for this considering she’s going to be engaged to a douche and Baelish is getting all Uncle Bad Touch, let her have her Sandor flavored escapist fantasies. And if you genuinely think he would for real touch her while she’s underage then I just need yall to get out Forever thanks.

If Sansa was really so traumatized by him from the BotBW or didn’t like him at all bc he’s a shitty and menacing professional killer who harassed her she wouldn’t have fabricated the unkiss, wouldn’t have kept his cloak, would not have compared other men to him with him being the positive example or compared sweet robin’s kiss to the unkiss again with Sandor in the positive. I don’t think these things inherently mean ~Romance~ I think they mean Sansa using Sandor to fill in a LOT of spaces in her life where she needs someone like a protector, a confident, a lover etc etc because he’s one of the few people who can fit them who she likes / trusts and isn’t fuckin’ dead. We don’t see much from his end since she’s a POV and he’s not hence why I’m speaking mainly about Sansa but it’s important to remember with him that she’s the best person in his life. She’s Special, he offers to save her from KL for a reason, because she’s good and kind and he wants tot help her. Sansa is the catalyst for his own self improvement just because she’s Nice, she quite literally pet this fucking dog and now he’d fucking die for her. That doesn’t have to be romantic so don’t fucking delete it just because you don’t like the romantic shippers. Don’t turn basic human compassion in to a sexual act. 

[nightcoremoon]

everyone sucks dark souls' dick over how it's triumph over hardships and whatthefuckever

asylum demon is a little bitch.

taurus demon is a little bitch.

moonlight butterfly is a little bitch.

titanite demon is a little bitch.

capra demon is a little bitch.

havel the rock is a little bitch.

stray demon is a little bitch.

bell gargoyles are cheating little fuckers.

these fights aren't hard. they're not difficult. they're painfully easy. those first seven I beat without breaking a sweat, most of them on the first or second try. would've been the first for some but the game just loves artificial difficulty. what's that, you want strategy and tactics and reaction time? too bad, fuck you, have random ass bullshit, skewed numbers (enemies have fuckhuge hp and damage and you have wet paper), extra enemies on the side who fuckin teleport and ignore physics (oh right it's havok physics so fuck it who cares let's all teleport), oh yeah and your framerate is cut to ribbons because the game tries to render THE ENTIRE WORLD AT ONCE and when your framerate is low guess what YOURE LITERALLY NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO PLAY because it kicks you to the main title. oh and the bonewheels? yeah I made jokes about them before but jesus christ who fucking OK'd these? was there any QA at all? oh you rested at that bonfire, fuck you you're here forever now because you move at half speed and they move at double speed and they can pivot midair a full 360 and they instantly break your poise and do a hundred damage each hit oh yeah and they can all hit you at the same fucking time. there's a literal zero frame window whatsoever to roll out of the way. all you can do is pray to the RNG gods that it'll let you play. and that's bullshit.

this game

is fucking

TERRIBLE

every single complaint I've seen about the prequel- WHICH I LOVE- and the sequel- WHICH I USED TO HATE BUT NOW LOVE BECAUSE ITS SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER THAN THE TRASH HEAP OF THE FIRST GAME- can be levied tenfold against this game.

fuck this berserk fanfiction trash that namco bandai threw money at for the art department and level design crew. they got all the budget, leaving nothing for the fuckin nonexistent ai.

the bosses all suck too. yeah ds2 had shitty bosses and reskins too, but IT HAD TWICE AS MANY AS DS1 DID. it's allowed a couple of trash bosses. and it has some absolute gems. the last giant is a perfect first boss that will decimate you if you don't know what you're doing but if you understand it you can plow through it easily, but can't be complacent with.

flexile sentry is a cool design and has two different moveset to content with, AND a level timer. skeleton lords? good boss. executioner chariot? good boss. mytha? eh, decent boss. smelter demon? fucking amazing boss. old iron king? cheating bastard but hey just don't fall in the lava idiot. git gud. fume knight? *chef's kiss* sir allonne? *chef's kiss* rat vanguard? incredible puzzle. the rotten? it's ok I guess but it's still better than half the ds1 bosses. najka? quelaag reskin but still ok. rat authority? sif and capra had a baby. prowling magus? ...ok that one is just embarrassing, I'll give you that. freja? great. pursuer? he'll crush you if you don't know what you're doing but all of his attacks are unique and avoidable and he looks fucking cool. ruin sentinels? tough as hell and worth the struggle in learning them. gargoyles? it's not a reskin, it's the ds1 gargoyle fight but not a completely horrible steaming pile of shit that's just a worse version of maneaterds in the prequel. lost sinner? good boss. mirror knight? good boss. demon of song? good boss. velstadt? good boss. vendrick? holy shit is he the best character in the series or what? and his boss fight... everyone says lord gwyn is the saddest because of sakuraba-sama's amazing talents at musical composition (so uh tales of symphonia is the best video game soundtrack ever made hands down don't @ me I'm sorry metroid prime but you have too much ambient noise) and PLIN PLIN PLON but I guarantee you that PLIN PLIN PLON would work well against vendrick too. oh yeah then you have the fake dragons (ok), throne duo (mediocre version of ornstein & smough), nashandra (meh), and aldia (meh), and also the bosses of shulva (meh) and the dogs of eleum loyce (meh) and the burnt ivory king. who is the best boss in the series hands don't don't @ me I'm sorry soul of cinder but you rely too much on nostalgia.

dark souls 2 is a fucking masterpiece with a few hiccups that are all holdovers from the first game. standing alone, this is probably the best action rpg ever made, and what everything else should build itself off of.

ds1 has a bunch of copypasted enemies with the word "boss" slapped on them, shitty mechanics, and even shittier stages.

quelaag is good. four kings is good. nito is good. seathe is good. sif is good. o&s are good. the dlc bosses are good. every single other boss is fucking stupid or fucking terrible and either can be cheesed or REQUIRE cheese.

what I mentioned before are jokes. ceaseless is just a pathetic version of dragon god who was vastly improved when he became old iron king. centipede demon is fucking garbage. bed of chaos is worse than garbage. priscilla is a meme. gwyndolin is a hallway. demon firesage is a reskin. gaping dragon is a waste of a cool design. iron golem is a joke who can be 1v1'd by tarkus. pinwheel? shut the fuck up about the prowling magus and congregation, pinwheel is not a real boss. lord of cinder? he's the reason why I don't parry, because parrying is cheese and it's fully dependent on having a $1000 graphics card and a brain that's wired to look at 60 frames per second. "but the human eye can only see 26" yeah exactly. man that's a short list of shitty bosses though. you're right? it's because I've listed all the dark souls bosses. and I haven't even listed all of the ds2 bosses.

I'm with hbomberguy here. ds2 gets more hate than it deserves. but I'll take it a step further.

dark souls 1 sucks.

it's not fun. it's not cool. it has a story ripped from a manga. its level design is a gimmick. the animations are shit. the hitboxes are shit. the physics are shit. the lighting and textures are still shit AFTER A REMASTER. the weapons and moveset variety is shit. the enemy design is shit. the locations all look exactly the same. the NPCs are boring and forgettable- I don't even know their fucking NAMES besides andre and gough (and gwyndolin but she's as real as her tits). it's built from salt and cyanide and broken glass rather than love for its roots. the music is the only part I can salvage without any buts. I can't even say that actually because THERE IS NONE EXCEPT DURING BOSSES WHEN YOU CANT LISTEN TO IT BECAUSE IT THINKS THAT DIFFICULTY IS SPEED AND SHEER NUMBERS.

it's a bad game.

you can like it. you can play it. you can love it.

but holy shit, shut the fuck about about it. I get it. I understand. I know. okay. got it. shut up.

I'll stop talking shit about your baby when you stop bitching and moaning and whining over how much you won't let yourself enjoy 2.

[bottomsupremacist]

~ carolmaria playlist ~

so this playlist is only songs from the 80s since tht was the primetime of their relationship but im also making other playlists. my idea for this is basically all the songs describe their relationship but also are music carol and maria would listen to. it’s based off the popular headcanon tht they were in a relationship before carol crashed but also my personal headcanon tht they decided to have a child together through artificial semination and there was NO MAN INVOLVED romantically or sexually in maria’s life :) enjoy!

im gonna write descriptions of each song’s placement but if you don’t wanna read them here’s the links ->

spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/houstontc22/playlist/48cAcNa5q2uLCFflAGhSx4?si=hb9lDE6ZTTOEiw_nRxAjOA

apple music: https://itunes.apple.com/us/playlist/carolmaria/pl.u-LgYrU2Ka6J5

yearning for your love - the gap band

this is about tht good mutual pining bby!! before they told each other about their feelings

time will reveal - debarge

them both hoping tht, as times moves on, the other will realize how in love they are

for your eyes only - sheena easton

in the official prequel book set during maria and carol’s time in the a*r f*rce academy, carol and maria discuss how much they understand each other b/c they’re so similar and how neither of them have ever met someone else who they could be their true self around so this song is about those moments of them being able to open up to one another and be vulnerable with each other

the woman in me - heart

going off the energy of the previous soing, about how at-home they feel with one another along with mutual! pining! and their desire thts about to burst out

kiss me deadly - lita ford

i mean..we all knw why this is on here. it just captures their essence perfectly when they hang out and sing karaoke and shit

the way you dance - the go-go’s

maria and carol go out for drinks and maria gets up to dance to some song she rlly likes. carol watches and tries not to stare too much but she’s a goner with the way maria is moving. maria eventually feels carol’s eyes on her so she amps it up a bit to pull carol further into a trance until carol finally gets up to dance with her

walking on sunshine - katrina & the waves

after they’ve told each other about their feelings and the extreme bliss they experience in the period afterwards. i feel like this song could also go later on the playlist after carol’s return but i put it here b/c these lyrics go well with the period of time tht they’re in a relationship but not living together yet

secret love - joan jett & the blackhearts

i feel like this perfectly describes their situation of not being able to let anyone knw about their relationship due to issues like worrying about being kicked out of the a*r f*rce and safety concerns with it being the 80s. just ignore the “but im with him and you’re with her” line lol

every little step - bobby brown

my heart bursts thinkin about how domestic maria and carol were in captain marvel so my fluff-loving gay mind imagined a scene to go along with this sdkjfdlk okay so picture: they’re in a bar after maria tells carol she wants a child and to show her support and dedication, carol gets up in front of everyone and sings this song to maria

you - gladys knight & the pips

how maria feels about carol’s personality and demeanor

your love is king - sade

any time i get to put my fave sade song on a playlist im happy! this song perfectly encapsulates their love

don’t disturb this groove - the system

they fuckin! 

the sweetest taboo - sade

plain and simple. about how carol slangs tht STRAP! but if we go deeper, also about how maria sees carol as a force tht came into her life and made it bttr. the prequel book about their time in the a*r f*rce academy says as much

never too much - luther vandross

about how joyfully in love they are. i imagine around this time they’ve already had monica

outstanding - the gap band

my fave gap band song! another song about how in love they are, specifically from carol’s point of view

pictures of you - the cure

there’s a post on here talking bout how maria must have spent many nights explaining the stories behind the pics in the box of carol’s stuff to monica, as if they were bedtime stories, in order for monica to know those stories front-to-back when showing the pics to carol after her return. so.. britney_yeah.gif.. this song is about tht and maria looking at the pics by herself :’(

tell me if you still care - the s.o.s. band

from maria’s point of view after carol’s return. she’s wondering if carol remembers their relationship. carol feels a deep connection to maria but doesn’t fully understand what it is and maria is a little frustrated but she understands tht it’s not carol’s fault

sweet love - anita baker

in those moments before carol flies off to be a deadbeat dad when maria is fighting the urge to tell carol about their whole history and on the edge of begging carol to stay with her family. like in the scene where they’re all sitting at the dinner table after the battle and those Looks maria gives carol, this song is what she was feeling

the flame - cheap trick

after carol leaves to help the skrulls and since i refuse to believe tht carol didn’t give maria some type of communication device like she did with fury, i imagine this song to be about whenever maria feels especially lonely and calls carol so they can video chat. maria promises carol tht she’ll always be there for her and tries to help her trigger some memories

forget me nots - patrice rushen

maria praying tht her wife not completely forget her and monica forever and instead remember and fly back from space to them

ain’t nobody - chaka khan

after carol has finally gained some memories back about their relationship and returns to earth for a few months out of the year to fully restore their connection. carol is enamored with maria and how quickly and easily it was for her to fall back in love with maria again and she is upset tht she missed out on feeling this love and tht she can’t remember most of it. also about how happy maria is tht she has her wife back

come back - luther vandross

about how maria feels during the times carol is off-planet. she just wants carol home permanently b/c she misses her so much and wants to get their life back to normal

right here waiting - richard marx

more about the angst and pain tht maria feels when carol is off-planet. maria is not the type to just sit around and be gloomy and somber all the time but she’s promises carol tht there will always be a place in her heart for her

wish you were here - fleetwood mac

as she remembers more and more memories, carol is lonely on whatever planet she’s on and wishes maria was there to hold her in her arms

time after time - cyndi lauper

during her adventures in space carol is trying to remember more about her and maria’s relationship before the crash while maria hopes she’s okay and safe wherever she is

wait for me - joan jett & the blackhearts

carol worries tht her off-world trips will tire out maria too much (which they do) to the point where she ends their relationship so she reaffirms their love and begs maria to trust in it

the one i love - r.e.m.

i imagined up a lil scene to go along with this song as well. so picture: carol is at some space bar tht has a stage where random ppl can go up and perform if they want to so she gets up there with her guitar and emotionally covers this song while thinking of maria and monica

[thegeminisage]

5 headcanons for Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen

ANON I LOVE YOU thank u

im doing these in reverse order bc i wanna save the best 4 last

GWEN:

i think she genuinely enjoys taking care of people. it’s a role she’s forced into a lot - she takes care of her dad, elyan, morgana, uther, even merlin and arthur once in awhile, even HUNITH - but i think she’s the kind of person who finds genuine fulfillment in doing that kind of thing (she picked FLOWERS for morgana just because), and if she hadn’t been the blacksmith’s daughter she would have made a fine apprentice to gaius herself

she’s a better rider than you. and arthur. and elyan. and morgana. and everybody

we never hear word one about gwen’s mom but i like to imagine she died just before gwen and morgana met (which i’m assuming happened shortly after morgana came to camelot) - and gwen, who had just lost a mother, could easily sympathize with morgana, who had just lost a father and was somewhere new and unfamiliar - and that’s why they became such fast friends

gwen is probably a few years older than morgana - i like to think she was morgana’s maidservant from the start, but i don’t think they would have let her be a maidservant to the king’s ward at age 10, so maybe she’s 3ish years older - not so much older she strays into big sister territory, but old enough to do the job required of her

nobody among the knights/guards really knew what to make of gwen or arthur’s feelings for gwen because she’s ??? just a serving girl ??? like they didn’t dislike her exactly and they respected arthur’s choice for the most part but they also didn’t know anything about her and couldn’t see why the fuck arthur would make such a stir over her when it would be so much easier not to. this changes 100% after gwen’s shenanigans with smuggling leon out of camelot; leon comes back singing her praises like ok ok i GET HER now y’all ain’t gonna believe how she got me outta that cell and on leon’s word (and because she’s elyan’s brother and he’s a knight now too) everybody else warms up to her too

MORGANA:

this is practically canon but she’s a lesbian, obviously. gwen was the first girl she had a crush on

this isn’t a headcanon exactly but i wish bbc merlin had had a better budget because you know who deserved a black cat familiar? morgana. like, aithusa made a wonderful foil to merlin’s relationship w/ kilgarrah and i would not wish aithusa’s fate on any creature let alone some poor innocent cat, but also, the IMAGERY...it could have been so good

this is also sort of canon but i think she dresses expressively, hence the goth look after she goes evil. @dellesayah​ & i joke about her “evil girl eyeliner” in season 3 but honestly look the way the girl wears 100% black in s4 and s5 i think the eyeliner was her own private expression of her inner angry goth post-poisoning when she still had to be wearing those colorful dresses to fool everybody into thinking she was the same good girl morgana in s3

same age as arthur. idk why most fics have her being older - tho i admit her being older but still not being able to inherit the crown is a VALID source of her rage - but if she was born w/ magic is makes the most sense for her to have been born after the purge started, aka after arthur. i guess it depends on when you think uther cheated on his wife lol. but i never really thought of morgana and arthur as having like an older/younger sibling thing - to me they were more like twins, so definitely within a year of his age, whether it’s slightly older or younger depends on how you feel that day i guess

wintertime birthday. i think arthur has a summertime birthday (more on that below) so it makes her a nice balance to him in that way

MERLIN:

the Most doting son ever. i imagine he had a few difficult teenage years (being a warlock and all) and that he still gets himself into trouble out of sheer stupidity sometimes but aside from that he was probably really well-behaved for the most part just because he didn’t wanna make his mama sad

autumn birthday, since we went there with morgana (to complete the quad in Balance, gwen’s would definitely have to be in the spring)

ok i know colin morgan had to like put on a nice “proper” english accent for the show because katie mcgrath didn’t have one but in my heart merlin sounds like a HICK (whatever the ye olde englishe/modern british version of hick sounds like, he’s it) and his accent only gets worse for all the time they’re at ealdor. like arthur THOUGHT it was bad he probably picked on merlin about it all the time but he had NO IDEA how bad it gets! none! and EVERYBODY in ealdor sounds like that except somehow EVEN WORSE! gwen and morgana think it’s UTTERLY charming but arthur is SO GLAD to get back to camelot and away from all that nonsense! and so then ok when they meet balinor in s2 (who speaks like a normal human being) he listens to merlin talk for 5 minutes and IMMEDIATELY knows exactly where the fuck he’s from. #hicksrepresent

merlin SAYS and BELIEVES he understands magic should only be used for great deeds blah blah blah but when he gets overworked and short on time, yeah, that armor’s gonna be polishing itself while he works on 4 other things at once - he just gets better at not being caught. it’s a great deed to keep arthur’s armor in peak condition, right? arthur says he’s a terrible servant but actually being magically aided he winds up being like...really good at his job, once he gets into the swing of it. he’s just fucking insubordinate always 24/7

*** ****** no i will not be taking constructive criticism

ARTHUR:

he knew they lied to him in 2.08. he always knew. canon evidence supports this in 4.03 he says “i lost both my parents to magic” listen to me he ALWAYS KNEW!!!

canon also semi-supports a summertime birthday - i read somewhere once that they made it a point to only show camelot in spring thru early fall so they didn’t have to explain why there wasn’t snow on the ground. arthur’s coming of age ceremony (which i assumed either followed or preceeded his birthday) was in the middle of season 1, which would have been mid or late summer, hence: arthur is a summer baby.

i really like the gay!arthur headcanon but i also think he and gwen have incredible chemistry and i really like their relationship so like...maybe gay with one genuine exception. also that boy EMBODIES internalized homophobia :( poor lad

fond of DOGS and sometimes HORSES but refuses to show it because that’s not very manly of him. he’s too into hunting to truly be an Animal Person but since you don’t hunt dogs or horses generally he has a very very secret soft spot

the writers didnt do this on purpose but in my heart i believe the reason he was willing to risk SO much to save mordred in 1.08 was because of what he did to that druid camp from 4.10......like at first yeah he tries to be hard-hearted about it & just do his fuckin job but i think once his conscience was tripped he couldn’t stand to see a druid kid die again under his watch for no good reason. he’d’ve never agreed otherwise, not even for a kid. he wouldn’t have ratted morgana out but he wouldn’t have helped her either

(send me a character & i’ll give you 5 headcanons)

[bastionkeeper]

13 for Connor and Hank please? (Platonic please :) ) Have a lovely day!

13. “I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”

“Get offa me, fuckin’ android!”

Connor was unaffected by the order, the swearing, or the reference to his species. He seldom held what Hank said drunk against him. Besides, he was more focused on keeping Hank upright as they walked. He had the older man’s arm around his shoulders, and one of his arms around Hank’s waist. They made slow progress down the street, but none of the taxis were running with the evacuation still technically in affect. Connor was honestly impressed that Hank had found the one bar whose tender had not left the city once Markus’s demonstration began about a week ago.

“Just lemme alone, I didn’ ask for you to come pick me up,” Hank growled, causing Connor to sigh and shake his head. He didn’t answer though, just kept wading through snow that had grown dirty from sitting stagnant on city streets.

Hank didn’t seem pleased by that development, so he tried to wiggle free of Connor’s grasp. He managed to only because of all the combat situations Connor was programmed for ‘drunk friend’ was not one of them. Hank stumbled, his back hitting a nearby wall where he kept it for support.

“Go home, Connor,” he huffed. “You’re not my fuckin’ babysitter. M’fine!”

“Your blood alcohol content has reached unsafe levels, you seem to have lost your coat somewhere and are therefore vulnerable to the cold temperatures, and you have chosen to cloud your judgement in a city currently in the grips of a dramatic change a thing which often leads to random acts of violence,” Connor sighed. “I would not call that fine.”

“Fine, not fine,” Hank said, waving dismissively. “I’m still not your fucking responsibility. Go have fun with your new robo-friends, let me drink myself to death in peace, alright?”

Connor examined Hank’s face, something he found hard to do with the way Hank was avoiding his gaze. It turned out to be intentional as Hank growled back up at him. “Don’t use your fucking software on me, punk.”

Connor analyzed Hank’s facial expression and posture. They did not speak of anger the way Hank’s words did. It said guilt, fear, shame.

“Hank, I don’t mind,” Connor said, making his face more open and trustworthy.

“Maybe I mind!” Hank said. “Maybe I mind that you got your fuckin’ freedom, learned how to be a real boy, and all you ever do is follow me around cleanin’ up my messes.”

Connor tilted his head curiously to the side, watching as Hank tried to straighten himself and stand at his full height. “Connor, I’m a bitter old man, I don’t take care of myself, and I don’t give enough of a shit to take care of anyone else either. You should stop hanging around me, go be with the others and stop takin’ care of me.”

Connor referenced the databases on personal loss, grief, and addiction he had downloaded long ago in order to better understand his partner’s behavior. There were plenty of options, clinical options, calm tactful words that could push Hank towards healthier behavior. He was uncertain as to why he abandoned those words, and chose some of his own instead.

“I’m… not going to leave you, Hank,” Connor said, shaking his head. “I don’t think you understand the value I place on our friendship.”

Hank rolled his eyes, shook his head, tried to avoid Connor’s gaze unsuccessfully.

“I know you prefer to isolate, you think if no one cares then there’s no one to get hurt when your behavior harms you,” Connor said. “But I’m not going to leave you. No matter how you push or lash out. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”

Hank was breathing heavily, staring at the ground in silence. Connor wondered if he’d chosen wrong to speak, as the humans would say, from the heart but then Hank closed the distance between them. He groaned and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Connor’s shoulder.

“Fuck. Fine then,” he said. “Can’t see straight. Gonna lug me home or what?”

The edges of Connor’s mouth twitched into a smile. That would have to do for now, though he would hold sober Hank to a higher standard of gratitude in the morning. For now, drunk and upset, this cooperation from Hank was everything.

Connor once again braced Hank against himself and kept walking, unsurprised when they had to stop to let Hank vomit into the street. Other than that he managed to get Hank home and into bed without any trouble.

The next morning Hank woke with a glass of water and painkillers on the nightstand by his bed.As his memory caught up with him he groaned at both the headache and the pang of guilt. He didn’t have much time to worry about the guilt though, as his hangover took priority when Connor opened the bedroom door to let in a rather excited Sumo who Hank guessed was fresh from a walk from the muddy pawprints the dog left on his sheets.

“Fuckin’... Christ, Connor, why?” Hank yelled, struggling to hold back Sumo’s happy face licking.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Connor said at an intolerably loud volume, a smug smirk on his face. “Were you resting? I’m easily confused by humans and their habits. I thought you might like to see Sumo, and maybe would also like for me to turn on all the lights and play some Knights of The Black Death very loudly.”

“Fuckin’ android,” Hank groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his head to hide the proud smile.

[shardclan]

The principle behind the saying "familiarity breeds contempt" wasn't entirely lost on Arcanus. He'd served the old dynasty since the fifth, and seen the entire lineage since grow from sinless hatchlings to adults with a broad range of personalities. Some, like the Sixth, meshed well with him. The blood was strong enough between them that it was simple for them to get along. Others, like the Appointer, were fine when they were hard at work, but privately had the personality of a tail rash, while fore others this was inverted. The Economist, for example, openly had a the personality of an opal cobra with a toothache, and yet she was easily among the least abrasive of his many charges.

The problem Arcanus had was that "familiarity breeds contempt" was the bedfellow of "absence makes the heart grow fonder"--a concept that went in the exact opposite direction which made infinitely more sense. Why shouldn't one miss someone they are fond of? It felt obvious. But then, it also felt obvious to Arcanus that comfort should be the only thing bred by familiarity in any type of cordial relationship.

There was a lot Arcanus might have once held in contempt about Carnelian, for example. The man wasn't accountable to anyone. His temper and proclivity for violence meant he was more or less a paid vigilante. Or, in the recent case of Hitth's wings, an unpaid one with great publicity. He got in moods--GODS did he get in moods. He was unpredictable and aggressively kept himself untethered to places and people around him even when he obviously cared about them. He was... he was like a bigger, angrier, less disciplined Smoke Gyre, when he truly didn't need to be. Maybe he still held those things in contempt, just a little, but for the most part those were all things Arcanus had come to like about Carnelian.

Telos and Techne's relationship was more like a continuous stream of contempt peppered with only the most fleeting moments of familial care. The latter's recent absence had done little to make either of them fonder of each other.

"He's using you," Techne hissed.

"He should be," Telos shot back. "He should use everything he's got to keep Junior out of this."

"You've been away from the House too long. That's not how we do things--it's not Xannite." She took a short but intense drag that would have burned a less dedicated smoker, her horns vibrating all the while. "Are you not getting that your son threatened the House with war?"

Arcanus kept perfectly still, barring a single flick of his eyes toward the corner of the room. Bestealcian was glancing back at him with the same carefully blank expression.

"I get it just fine. What I don't get is why you think I care? Why do you think I'm going to call him out or reign him in?" She whipped her arm around the room, drawing attention to both the finery that had amassed as the result of gifts and the mounds of paperwork on her desk. "Does this look like a place you'd find a Xannite who is still about the House first?"

"Maybe, just a thought, I expected you to care about the kid's well being a little more since you built this whole fucking kingdom all because you were so hung up on his father!"

Arcanus saw the punch shoot up from Telos lower back up to her shoulder where her muscles bunched dangerously and coiled down into her arm like a snake readying for a deadly lunge. But it died there. She choked it back somewhere between elbow and wrist, refusing to dignify Techne’s words with so much as a clenched fist.

"You don't know anything." The words were firm and assured.

"I know your son is more attached to the House than you are," Techne insisted with an accusatory jab of her cigarette. "You may have checked the fuck out because you're untouchable up on your throne, but he isn't. I want you to just--” 

She squeezed the cigarette between her claws, her tongue flicking rapidly as she rubbed at her crest. “Just think about this. Think about it for more than 5 fucking seconds, Telos, what's going to happen to him if anything happens to you. I did you a favor helping you with Hitth, but clearly something happened to both of you in there. I understand he’s trying to get married but next thing he'll be claiming he's a fucking prince just cause you're his mother."

Telos didn't answer immediately, and Arcanus saw the anger in her eyes cool. Her thumb rubbed, as it often did, at the spinel ring, and her words came slow and measured. "I have known since the beginning that if I failed as Aphaster's queen, the House would reclaim me. It was you who thought I should be taken back in spite of it all to begin with. So don't think that I haven't considered that Zo has put himself in a dangerous position. The House is patient and we remember--that's our purpose. The moment they sense an opening, they will send an enforcer."

"And yet..." Techne prompted impatiently.

"And yet that is the choice he made. And it would spit on everything we teach our own to tell him to make a different decision."

Techne threw her hands up in agitation. "It's a decision that that relies on you to begin with! That's the problem! How can you be fine with being dragged into being his living shield?!"

Telos' brows drew together and she crossed her arms. "Aren't you being a bit hasty to assume I'm going to be dragged anywhere? Zo can say what he wants, and the House can test me if it likes, but I don’t actually have any obligation to do anything."

"Cut the shit," Techne growled with a tired loll of her head. Her tone was unimpressed at best. "You love your son like a skydancer loves flight, you're not going to stand by and do nothing. I know it, you know it, everybody fuckin knows it."

"Then you're all wrong," Telos countered.

Techne stared at Telos, but her expression wore down the coatl's skepticism. She drew her cigarette slowly from her lips, her expression drawing in tight as she waited for a joke that wasn't coming. Finally, after finding no purchase, she peered over at Arcanus and pointed weakly at Telos.

The knight met her eyes, looked again at his queen's expression, and gave a single slow nod.

"You're...." Techne began suspiciously. "Not... going to help him...?"

"There's no need for me to." Seeing Techne confused, Telos sat on the edge of her desk in decidedly unladylike fashion with her elbows propped on her thighs. "What exactly did Zo say to the Librarians?"

"He said he was offering a complete memory transfer of everything that happened to him when he was with the Outsider, in exchange for  the right for him and his own to live out-of-house." Her eyes narrowed, and she jabbed the cigarette back in her mouth, sucking bad-temperedly. "And then that those were his most generous terms and any attempt at retrieval would lead to the House's destruction by Aphaster and its allies."

Telos rubbed at her nose, if only to hide a creeping smirk. "That little snitch..." She leaned back, shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "Now I'm definitely not going to lift a finger for him. If what you said is true, Zo is going to throw my standing with the House right into the Wyrmwound."

Techne's crest rose while her cigarette drooped, and she tiredly rubbed at her eyes. "What did you do this time?"

"Take his offer and find out," Telos teased blithely. She wiped the bit of mirth from her eyes, and tried to put on a serious face. "Techne, I know have tunnel vision when it comes to Zo sometimes--"

"All the time," the coatl muttered.

"--But true to the codes of the House, I treasure his identity and the life he is trying to live with it above all else. I advised him to use what he has, and he's using it."

"Which is apparently something stronger than you."

"Oh, absolutely. I'm just a politician who knows how to throw a good punch and swing a rapier in a bind. I have to think about this clan's well-being. Can you imagine me trying to make this clan go to war just for my son? It'd be like if the Auditor came out and told us to dismantle the Machine."

Both of them shared a slight shudder at the thought, but Telos pressed on. "Have you ever met Junior? Really met him? Has the House begun looking into him now that Zo has given his ultimatum?"

"I've warned them against trying to get close by the usual method. The Enforcers are weighing my proposal to just have me go talk with Dreamweaver and the relevant party."

"Parties, Techne, I promise you that's going to be plural." She shifted sideways onto the desk to better face Techne and pressed a hand sincerely to her chest. "I'm not the shield in this. I never was. The thing that will destroy the House is not really Aphaster or even Feldspar. It's Junior himself."

“...What?”

"Zo has chosen to marry one of the most beloved young men in Southern Sunbeam. Junior is a powerhouse of barely stable Arcane energy. He's the treasured son of a once-king--a man who was beloved by my husband's father and who would get dangerous and unpredictable if you tried to take Junior away. He is nephew to a still-king, grandson to a loving and highly dangerous progenitor, and recently he is a father to Jorah." She laughed, a little frantically. "And Jorah alone would tear the House apart with his bare hands if he thought for even a second that being there made Junior or Zo sad."

Techne blew smoke very slowly from her nostrils--her way of expressing an impressed silence. Telos leaned in close, and whispered conspiratorially. "And Junior is considered part of the dynasty even more so that Zo. Lutia is Zo's aunt by blood, but she Junior's aunt by proclamation, and we both know we don't have Enforcers who can deal with her."

Techne's cigarette lifted with her brow. "They made up?"

Telos rolled her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "They made up eons ago, Techne. That's what I mean. You're not in Aphaster often and you dont read the paper or catch up with local gossip when you do come here. You don't have a pulse on the relationships peripheral to this marriage at all or you would know better."

Techne plucked the cigarette from her lips and leaned against Telos' desk. Arcanus was at both their backs now, so he couldn't make out their expressions but he could see the slight circular turn of Techne's crest where she must have been rubbing her temples. Telos reached out to lay a hand on her back, but Techne was quick to raise her claws to preserve her personal space.

"As a keeper of the Machine, and Inquisitor of House Xanna, I demand a truthful answer from you. Did the events that occurred when you faced Hitth include anything that would be considered treason against us and our way?"

"They did," Telos answered truthfully.

"From what party?"

"Subject C."

Techne's crest stood, and the feathers around her chest near doubled in size. "No end to the fuckin troubles that wildclaw caused us..." she snarled under her breath. "Was any forbidden knowledge exchanged?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"I see. Then I've no cause to act as an Inquisitor in this situation and I get to make this merry report about how two epochs in a row an Arcanite is going to be living out-of-House due to a bunch of marital bullshit." She went to flick the stub of her cigarette, and caught Arcanus' glare. With a petty glare back, she ground it out on the marbled edge of Telos' desk and smeared away the ash with her tail before lighting up a fresh one. Still grumbling, she excused herself, and the last thing they heard before she slammed the door behind herself with a distinct mutter of "Un-fuckin-believable..."

Arcanus inspected the edge of the desk and wiped it with his thumb just to be sure it was as clean. Beastealcian materialized between him and Telos. “Soooo...”

He gave a distracted hum.

"Do you think she noticed the new make up?"

They both looked at their queen. Telos' fingers wandered up to her cheek. Very shortly after finally laying her mourning lace to rest, she rang in the anniversary of her coronation and the official formation Clan Aphaster by also letting the trail of golden tears be laid to rest. She had replaced them with 4 rays of gold shining down from under her left eye.

Telos laughed and shook her head. "She was so preoccupied with Zo, I don’t think she realized anything was different at all."