#I AM AWARE THAT 49 IS A LOT

[enluv]

hi hehe I wanted to thank you all so much for 3k !!

THIS ISNT MY OFFICIAL POST FOR IT but I wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my jay filled heart for this !! thank you to everyone who has ever read, commented, reblogged, sent me an ask, is my moot, etc!!! this milestone is yours as much as it is mine !! i will genuinely never stop saying thank you like it means so much to me to know so many people read my works and support them!! stay tuned for my official 3k post soon, promise you won’t want to miss it <3

#PLEASE IGNORE MY DRAFTS #I AM AWARE THAT 49 IS A LOT #I HAVE MANY WIPS AND IDEAS 😭 #I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH TOOTS #THANK YOU SERIOUSLY #FROM THE TIPS OF MU TOES TO THE TOP OF MY HEAD #SERIOUSLY THANK YOU #I WONT EVER STOP SAYING THANK YOU #YOURE ALL AMAZING BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE #coco hits a milestone <3

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?

Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡

Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

May we all realize our Self ♡

There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2

The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6

A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11

Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12

Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8

Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13

Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14

You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41

A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

HOW TO STOP?

The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj

You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17

You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18

I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20

Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23

Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14

Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14

If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24

One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23

You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25

Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23

Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27

She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.

By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29

Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30

There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31

All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16

Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33

Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16

To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35

All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36

What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38

Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39

If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2

Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40

Got more questions? Recommended reading:

Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3

My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

All references from the remix post

Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book

What does this look like when applied?

Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.

From 4dbarbie students: see the tag

Other: 1, 2

Okay, what to do after reading all this?

Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

[coochiequeens]

Another sex offender TIM released into the public.........and given a laptop

Daughter's fury as paedophile father who abused and shared images of her with other sick perverts online before changing gender in prison is quietly released (...and given a laptop by an offender's charity)

By ROSS SLATER

PUBLISHED: 10:47 EDT, 16 July 2023 | UPDATED: 10:49 EDT, 16 July 2023

A paedophile who changed gender while in prison for sexually abusing her own daughter as a child and sending explicit photos of her to perverts online has been quietly released back into the community - and given a laptop by a do-gooding charity.

Claire Fox, 61, who was previously known as Clive Bundy, a father of six, served just seven years of a 15-year jail sentence, before being settled into a tiny market town on the Welsh borders.

Fox, who wears a black wig and floral dresses told neighbours, who knew nothing of her sordid past, that she was an electrician from Bangor as they helped her get settled into her new surroundings and helped her furnish her flat.

Fox's release from prison has appalled her daughter Ceri-Lee Galvin, who bravely waived her right to anonymity, having been abused by her father for nine years from the age of eight.

Revealing her astonishment, Ceri-Lee, 24, told MailOnline: 'My father is not a woman and I refuse to recognise him as such. He changed his gender in prison to make his life there easier.

But now he is out and already up to his usual tricks – conning everyone he meets. 

'The fact he is now dressed as a woman makes him more dangerous as young girls are his thing and he has never shown any remorse.

'My father is a highly manipulative man who has attended no sexual offender rehabilitation programmes, shown no remorse for what he has done and openly admits finding children attractive.

'There have been no meetings I'm aware of to tell local schools about his presence, he has no tag and no curfew. He has just been put into this community and given all he could wish for – food, furniture, a home and a laptop.'

Ceri-Lee, now a student paramedic, added: 'I am in no way transphobic and I feel incredibly sorry for people who genuinely need to transition. They face stigma and worse because of cases like this.

'But it should just not be an option for those convicted of sexual offences against children to suddenly say that they want to be a woman.

'This only arose at the end of 2021 when he was due to be moved to an open prison but then had a fight with a fellow prisoner that was serious enough to stop the move.

'That is when he went for the gender change – when he was almost 60, having been a macho man all his life and having had eight children and having never mentioned gender dysphoria before.

'Now he is being indulged by everyone. The prison service gave him make-up and women's clothes and now a charity for the armed forces have provided him with so much stuff when all he did was a short stint in the Territorial Army in his 20s.

He has conned them. He was never a soldier. The whole thing is outrageous.'

Fox arrived in a sheltered accommodation block for older people in a tiny town at the start of June.

She was given new furniture, a television, printer, washing machine, crockery and a laptop by the armed forces charity SSAFA because she had once been in the Territorial Army.

Fox's neighbour Lyn Robinson, 74, said: 'My first impression was that this person was very cheerful and amenable, assuring all us older people that they'd be no trouble. They seemed very confident despite the outlandish appearance.

'I thought she might find it difficult fitting in so I really took care of her. I gave her clothes and even lent her £70, which is a lot for a pensioner.

'I took her to the food bank at the Baptist Church where she was given loads of stuff including vouchers for a butcher in town and for a coffee shop.

'And we went to a concert at St Edward's Church where I introduced her to the vicar. I had no idea of her history.

Fox's decision to change gender before being released from prison, provoked a storm of protest when it was revealed in April.

She chose the same name as gender-critical campaigner and media pundit Claire Fox, now sitting in the House of Lords as Baroness Fox of Buckley.

Campaign groups fear that by changing their gender, sex offenders can effectively whitewash their past and could avoid detection under the Home Office's Disclosure and Barring Service, set up to protect children from abusers.

DBS uses official paperwork such as a passport or driving licence to carry out their checks, both of which can prove difficult to check after choosing a new name and gender.

The potential loophole is provided by the Gender Recognition Act (2004), which created a 'sensitive applications route' for trans people.

Ceri-Lee added: 'The victim liaison officer told me the only reason I was being informed about the name and gender change was because he had given permission for this to happen.

'It's allowing him to say that Clive Bundy never existed, that my abuse never existed and it is clearly a danger to children which is why I decided to speak out.' 

Fox is not the first sex offender to change gender while in prison

A rapist who carried out sexual attacks as a man named Adam Graham in 2016 and 2019 sparked a heated debate earlier this year after changing gender and name to Isla Bryson while waiting to stand trial at the High Court in Glasgow.

And in 2018, convicted rapist 'Karen White' – branded a 'highly manipulative' predator by a judge – was moved to HMP New Hall in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, and sexually assaulted two women inmates.

Fox was arrested after police discovered images of Ceri-Lee online that the abuser had been trading with other pedophiles.

She was later charged with and admitted to several counts of sexual activity with Ceri-Lee, inciting a child to engage in sexual activity and distributing indecent images.

In 2016 she was sentenced to 15 years in prison. It was not until the end of 2021 that she told the authorities she wanted to change gender.

A SSAFA spokesperson, said: 'SSAFA, the Armed Forces charity provides practical, emotional and financial assistance to serving personnel, reservists, veterans and their families in their time of need. Due to data protection laws and our need to protect our beneficiaries' and employees' confidentiality, we cannot comment on individuals or their circumstances.'

A spokesperson for Dyfed-Powys Police said: 'In line with national guidelines we can neither confirm nor deny the information you have provided.

'However, we can confirm that Multi Agency Public Protection Arrangements are utilised throughout the entire force area to manage appropriate offenders living in the community and they will be closely supervised by local officers to minimise any risk.'

#Claire Fox is Clive Bundy #Child Abuse #Child Abuse material online #UK #Wales

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 49

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

It's as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Just the one. You still feel the nagging tug of resent and anger around your nape but that pit in your stomach lessens. Enough for you to wake up without dread at the sight of sunlight.

You can smell the fall setting in as it wafts in through the screen. You sit up and stretch, groaning as you stand to check in on the bassinet. Luna's never slept so peaceful as that night. She must love her grandfather already.

You rub your shoulders as you stand and pull on the thin linen robe and tie the belt tight. You hate to wake the baby so you creep to the door and listen to the house. It's quiet still. Your fellow denizens must be asleep, or hiding.

You back away and near the bassinet. You flip up the brake with your toe and carefully wheel it closer to the open bathroom door. You lock it and make sure you can see it from inside.

You slowly twist the faucet and flick the switch to trigger the showerhead. The water rains down behind the frosted door and you let it run until steam rises. You go to look in on the baby one last time as you undress. A ten minute shower can't hurt.

You leave your clothes on the floor and step into the shower, sliding the door shut but leaving it open a crack. You sigh as the heat seeps into you, the water slaking down your flesh. You close your eyes, tilting your face up to the hot stream, hands wandering down to the ripples etched into your hips and stomach. You lost some but you'll never be like you were before. Not inside or out.

You focus on the warmth, mourning your previous self in the fog of the moment. Let it drift away with the humidity that surrounds you. You only need to carry your own guilt around, you can't torture yourself for Lloyd's misdeeds.

You take your time, forgetting the urgency you had when you stepped in. The scent of the soap soothes you and when you finally turn the tap off, you feel ready to face the day. Whatever it may hold.

You slide open the door and grab your robe, wrapping it around your body without drying off. You use the sleeve to dry your face, a flicker on the outside of your eyelids sending a thrill up your spine.

You snap your eyes open as you see the figure looming over the bassinet. Your fright turns to rage as Lloyd coos into the basket and reaches his hand down. Not only is he intruding in your space but he is near your baby.

He looks up with his brows high, a thoughtless grin on his face. Almost as if he expects you to be happy to see him. You storm forward and shove him away from the bassinet with a snarl.

"Get out!" You sneer.

"Hey, hey, I knocked," he says as you try to usher him out.

You don't reply. You won't waste the breath. He needs to go and not come back.

"She's my daughter!"

You nearly explode at those words. Your serenity is broken. He's always there to ruin everything. He thinks he can just waltz in and receive a warm welcome. He thinks he's entitled to every single thing in this world.

You push him so he stumbles. If he really wanted to, he could override you. You both know it. It's almost as if he wants you to beat the everliving shit out of him. You won't give him the satisfaction.

You herd him through the open door as you hear Luna start to babble and you slam it. You spin and hurry to the bassinet, your chest full and pulsing. You take the baby out and bring her with you to the bed. This is going to be a lot harder than you expected.

Lloyd hits the door and you hear a 'hey' boom from down the hall. Harlan's footfalls march down towards your room as you calm the baby as she fusses at all the noise. You hush her as you listen with one ear to the voices without.

"Leave her be, boy, or I'll put you on your ass again," Harlan growls.

"Fuck off. I took it easy on you, old man," Lloyd retorts.

"Don't act like you didn't learn it from me," Harlan snarls, "leave the lady alone. It's damn well the only thing you've proven yourself skilled at."

There's a huff right before you hear a stomping retreat. You easily assume it's Lloyd. A gentle tap comes at the door.

"Y'okay?" Harlan asks through the door.

"All good," you call back.

"You need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks," you say as you focus on getting Luna to feed. This is all a mess, you don't know why you were ever worried about Lloyd coming back. He should've stayed gone.

🍑

Harlan brings you breakfast as you maintain your reclusion. He holds Luna as you find something besides old sweats to wear. You think a walk would help ease your nerves. Or hope for at least a moment you can escape the tense chokehold of this place.

You get Luna in her stroller and your father helps you take her down the front steps. You head out in the opposite of your normal direction. Not towards the park or Andy's house, but to the other end of the street. You distract yourself with the details of the houses you'd never passed before and stop to admire the stone fountain amid the carpet of autumn leaves.

The symptoms of the season changing and time passing add to your disappointment. Lloyd's return had snapped you out of purgatory in a way you never expected. You'd resign yourself to staying, after Colin, after the positive test, after you laid in the grass and beckoned the end…

Now you don't want to settle for any of it. But how can you ever escape this trap? Set as much by that man as your own indifference.

"Hey, hey," Andy startles you and you turn to see him jogging towards you in his full get-up; sneakers, jogging pants, and a zip-up, "hey, how are things?"

He stops just on the other side of the stroller. Figures, you go one way to avoid him and he shows up. You look back at the fountain, gripping the handle of the stroller as you think.

"It's fine…"

"About yesterday…" he begins.

"Forget it. Forget everything. We never should’ve–"

"What? Come on, it's no biggie–"

"It is, I can't… I have a daughter I need to worry about."

"I can help–"

"Andy–"

"Dickwad," Lloyd shouts from the other side of the street. He's geared up in black joggers and a thin exercise hoodie. Boy, is your toming still impeccable. "Why don't you fuck off away from my wife? Can't you see she's trying to enjoy a walk in peace?"

You roll your eyes and wave off Lloyd. You give Andy a look that says 'not now' as his brows furrow with concern and surprise. He nods and glances at Lloyd.

"No worries, gotta finish my run," he pushes off and runs past the stroller and Lloyd, sure to hit his shoulder with hit.

"Sorry to crash your little rendezvous," Lloyd looks in the stroller as he nears and you steer it away from him, "actually not fucking sorry. Daddy's home so–"

"Leave me the fuck alone," you sneer, "how many times do you need to hear it? You sure didn'thave a problem doing it before so kindly go back to wherever you fucked off to–"

"What? Or you'll go sniveling to dear old grandpappy?" He reaches for the stroller and you put yourself between him and Luna, "Peach, that's my daughter. I don't care how many times you fucked that cuck. You both belong to me and you always will."

You puff and back away from him, shielding the carriage behind you. You stand, speechless for a moment. Of course he knows, you knew in the back of your head he must be watching like he always did. You wanted him to see.

"Tell yourself whatever you need," you snap, "but you own nothing. You will always be an empty, spineless shell of a fucker." You turn as quickly as you can and redirect the stroller, "you being back won't change that. Or me. So you have fun with your hand and I'll be doing the same with Andy."

"Don't fucking walk away from me," he barks as he goes to follow.

"I will scream, then the baby will scream, and you know people will hear," you hiss without looking back, "finish your run. Do us all a favour and don't stop running this time."

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unexpected #series #the gray man #andy barber #andy barber x reader #defending jacob

[mahoushojounightmares]

Teen Titans Masterpost And Reading Guide -

This is mostly a passion project of mine about my favourite team in DC Comics The Titans ! The general consensus I have seen on this website is that their history is confusing and people don’t know where to start so …. This guide includes ALL ( worthwhile ) pieces of Titans Media .

Ok so this is heavily inspired by @bitimdrake ‘s guide so check that one too !

Just to preface this is all my opinion and you can really start wherever you feel like it if you want to ! Sound Good 👍🏻 Good

TEEN TITANS

Ok so before you begin the og TT series you should read

- Brave and The Bold ( 1955) #54 and #60 if you want to read right from the start chronologically!

The Original Team of the TEEN TITANS was a series that ran through the 60s beginning in 1966 - 1973 and having a comeback in 1976 .

The OG series consisted mostly Robin Wonder Girl Kid Flash and Aqualad with many a cameo from other teens.

You can either read the OG Series but its completely optional it’s pretty outdated and silly but it’s a fun ride even then . In my opinion its best to leave for after you have been endeared to the characters .

If you really enjoy the Silver Age Teen Titans there’s also Showcase #59 before Roy joins and a story in the 80 page Flash Giant ! And after reading issue #20 you can also read #83 of Brave and The Bold.

After #31 theres TBANB #94 and after #34 theres World Finest Comics #205 ( read at your own discretion - totally optional)

Aswell as BANTB #102 and #149

And the utterly delightful Teen Titans lost annual & A story ( worlds oldest teenagers ) in the 80 page Flash giant.

All optional ( they get really weird)

Alternatively just read TEEN TITANS : YEAR ONE .

Some Issues I recommend from the OG Series

- #1 #2 #12 #53 ( last issue )

\ The series continues on from 1966-1976 \

NEW TEEN TITANS

NTT is arguably the seminal run and its best an absolute mustread . ( at it’s worst ….)

- DC PRESENTS #26 ( totally optional)

- THE NEW TEEN TITANS Vol.1

#1-40

- BEST OF DC #18 ( optional again.)

- Tales of The New Teen Titans ( miniseries #1-4 included in the NTT Omnis)

- read the 1st annual after issue #25

- By Issue 40 the series rebrands To TALES Of TEEN TITANS

This continues on from issues #41 to #58 it runs alongside NTT VOL.2 but is set 6 months before .

Read annual 3 as Part of Judas Contract !

- NEW TEEN TITANS VOL.2

#1-49

- TT Spotlight Miniseries !! ( SO GOOD SERIOUSLY)

- There’s also a drug awareness special at some point ( it’s its …. Certainly something)

NEW TITANS

By this point they remembered that “hey these guys aren’t teens anymore ” and thus renamed it to NEW TITANS . This series started off well enough and quickly devolved into arguably one of the worst runs EVER.

New Titans #81 is part of War Of The Gods and Annual 7 is part of Armageddon 2001 ( don’t bother ) annual 8 is part OF YET ANOTHER EVENT . Again don’t bother .

It’s pretty much highly recommend giving it up at #70 regardless .

-THE NEW TITANS

#50 - 100

ECTERA -

- running alongside NEW TITANS by 1992 was TEAM TITANS a series so awful I cannot recommend to you in clear conscience but if your a completetionist ( trust me I get it ) It’s there and Donna shows up alot !

- TITANS SELLOUT SPECIAL (1992)

NEW TITANS : MELTDOWN

The last decaying remains of NT walks on like a zombie on acid but by #100 all of the NTT crew is gone ( well most ) and leave to be replaced by an all new government sponsored Titans team lead by Roy . ( look I love this team but you seriously don’t have to keep reading)

- NEW TITANS

#0 / ZERO HOUR don’t worry about it/- 130

( IF YOU WANT CONTINUITY FOR KORI Showcase ‘94 #11 )

NT end’s with a whole 11 annuals

Ok so I am aware that they aren’t strictly Titans series BUT PLEASE TAKE a minute to read

The Arsenal Special!! Its a short single issue and BRILLIANT !! It informs a-lot of his character later on as well as of course the actual Arsenal Miniseries.

ALSO THE TEMPEST (1996) a absolute must read also informs basically everything about Garth and arguably his best story ever … just take a minute and read these if you want !! Before the Titans (1999)

TEEN TITANS (1996)

Ok so in the 90’s DC decided to start the TT from scratch ( huh see how long this’ll last )

This all new team was comprised of 4 half alien teens and a freshly deaged Atom. It didn’t last very long and while I am fond of it AGAIN you don’t HAVE TO read it

TEEN TITANS (1996)

#1-24

Also a few specials ! And 1 annual

Titans Beat #1

Impulse/Atom DoubleShot #1

Robin/Argent DoubleShot #1

Superboy/Risk DoubleShot #1

Supergirl/Prysm DoubleShot #1

New Year’s Evil : Dark Nemesis #1

JLA/TITANS : THE TECHNIS IMPERATIVE #1-3

Absolute MUST-READ . Literally one of my favourite comics of all time . Also essential because it kickstarts a certain run..

TITANS (1999)

One of If not the best run on Titans ( don’t @ me ) It slowly loses momentum after #26 but I still generally LOVED it . Stellar A++ Titans content !!

( you can also read the Beast Boy #1-4 miniseries prequel . But uh unless you really love Bette it’s not worth it )

TITANS (1999)

#1-50

Also TITANS Secret Files and Origins !!! ( ♥️♥️♥️ )

YOUNG JUSTICE

OK OK NOW IK THIS ISNT A TITANS OR TT RUN but this gen WILL eventually become TT 2003 ( 😒 ) and honestly ……

READ YJ 1998

It’s GREAT.

YJ/TITANS : GRADUATION DAY

Oh brother. Ok so I am pretty salty about this whole comic but it’s essential and has some good moments soo yeah read Graduation Day .

OUTSIDERS/TT SECRET FILES AND ORIGINS ♥️☝️ please read this after Graduation Day It’s heartbreaking and I love it !

TEEN TITANS 2003 - ( until OYL )

After the unfortunate events of graduation day the aforementioned YJ Gen ( - Anita and Greta 😞) and the OG NTT Crew ( Vic Kory Deaged Raven ) join to become …..

TEEN TITANS ( 2003)

( I have mixed opinions on this run some think it a masterpiece some think it awful I generally think it’s…. Fine ? Well “sigh” not fine but give it a go I guess ) I recommend #2-26

- #1-33

After #33 OYL hits

OUTSIDERS 2003 - ( until OYL )

Ok so this run isn’t really…. A titans run but it has fantastic Roy and Dick characterisation and KORY JOINS LATER AND SO TECHNICALLY-

#1-33

Don’t bother after #33

POST - OYL TT 2003

Ok so I basically consider post OYL TT ‘03 to be a totally different team because… well it is . All of the NTT crew leave and are replaced by a handful of cameos and eventually like Rose Wilson and Kid Devil and because at this point half of the YJ gen is well…dead . It was pretty awful at this point though I find the character interactions endearing. This series remains like that until N52 .

#33-100

OUTSIDERS/TT 2003 ECTERA

- DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES READ TERROR TITANS PLEASE .

- RETURN OF DONNA TROY ♥️♥️♥️ !!!! Excellent MUST READ !!!!

- TEEN TITANS : COLD CASE - seriously don’t read this if you don’t have too .

THEN - TITANS EAST SPECIAL !!

DC SPECIAL CYBORG #1-6 ( optional)

TITANS (2008)

After all the bullshit THEY ARE BACK TOGETHER AGAIN YAY !!!! To bad there’s so much shit going on OUTSIDE of the Titans that ends up fucking over the characters. E.G Bruce dying so Dick has to go be Batman and …. Hell . Fucking Rise Of Arsenal. If you know what happens in that book well yk that Roy ends up relapsing and going down a much darker mindset .

Series swings between being really good and being a mischaracterising MESS.

TITANS ( 2008 )

#1-23

But Amanda why did you put it’s end at 23 when Ik for a fact that goes on for #38 issues ????

Oh boy .

TITANS ( 2008 ) : VILLAINS FOR HIRE

So at issue 23 DC had the genius idea of taking the Titans and …. Turning them into a mercenary and hitman group lead by Deathstroke himself ( why ? I wish I fucking knew.) Filled out with hitman and villains and …. Roy who was now really dark and #edgy . Whatever It was bad and a wannabe secret six .

#23-38

However they’re was almost light at the end of the tunnel …. Jericho ( Joey Wilson yes he IS ALIVE ) seemed to have plans to assemble a new TITANS team and reunite their family and Roy well it seemed he was on a path to redemption he was almost there close to moving to recovery and healing and he could do it with—

N52 . POST FLASHPOINT TITANS.

The N52 was bad isnt a particularly outrageous statement but IT WAS EXTREMELY fucking bad in relation to the Titans . Bluntly put None of it ever happened and the only titans ( TEEN TITANS ACTUALLY) that had ever existed were the TT2003 guys . Just them. Fab Five never existed. NTT never existed.And all of the other og TT guys were …… WALLY never existed. Donna was a one note villain Garth never existed Dick was …. There I guess.. ROY was a dumbed down alcoholic with no purpose other than to gawk at how cool and oh and ahh at Jason Todd . ( KORY …… truly just awful what happened to her )

You can read the TEEN TITANS N52 . I guess .

They have 2 series . Read at your own peril ( scott lobbell shouldn’t of been allowed to touch a pen )

REBIRTH

- TITANS HUNT ! - WALLY IS BACK

-TITANS VOL.3 is exactly what I wanted in the first half and then falls on it’s ass and burns like a trash fire . recommend stopping at #20

TITANS VOL. 3

#1-40

TEEN TITANS VOL.3

“Yeah sure put the 11 year old in charge ”

Do not read this comic . Awful would be overselling it . And if you do ? THAT IS NOT DAMIAN . The series starts with Damian leading alot of the OG NTT guys and then it later just becomes Damian + Emiko + Ace and a couple other guys like Crush .

- Titans Academy

Haven’t actually read this one . Art looks gorgeous though

- TITANS BY TOM TAYLOR ( Ongoing )

Also BEAST WORLD I guess 🤷‍♀️

Mid at BEST . #1-4

- Tales Of The Titans

A miniseries but so far the best Titans content we have gotten IN A WHILE . ♥️

#1-4

ECTERA -

- NTT GAMES !

Delightful and fun !

- TITANS AND NTT CONVERGENCE

- worthwhile and exactly what’s on the tin ! Love these gave a happy ending to the Post Crisis universe !

- Teen Titans WORLDS FINEST

- wonderful art by Dan Mora . Story is fine

- Titans : Burning Rage

A more obscure pick but not so bad !

- DC PRESENTS THE UNCANNY X-MEN AND NTT CROSSOVER.

SOOOOO GOOODD

- TITANS UNITED & UNITED:BLOODPACT

Great art Great story

OTHER MEDIA -

- TEEN TITANS ( 2003 THE TV SHOW )

A solid adaptation of … most of the characters please don’t go into this show and come out expecting the same from the comics . Did a lot of good for Terra’s character and influences ALOT of public perception. Just … don’t be annoying about the comics after watching this .

- TEEN TITANS GO

YES IK IK BUT ITS AN ADAPTATION AS WELL DONT JUMP ME

- TITANS ( TV SHOW)

….I wouldn’t recommend this show too anyone EXCEPT Titans fans who want more content of the team it’s it’s an experience. ( FUCK YOU FOR DOING THAT TO DONNA )

SO YEAH . Feel free to question me if I have forgotten any I don’t have spectacular memory lol

Happy reading ! !

#dc #dc comics #new teen titans #teen titans #god i love titans #titansfam #titans #dick grayson #roy harper #donna troy #garth of shayaris #wally west

[candytwist]

after the first two days which i spent shaking in a dark room i spent my other two days putting my back into reading and writing. ill probably post something i wrote while i was in there in a min lemme type allat up. i hope ya like it *kicks dirt bashfully, blushes* i finished the crying of lot 49, insanely funny book easily one of my all time favorites now, and i'm now off to join john barth in finishing sabbatical: a romance, also very fun if a little like... taxing. theres an entire like 10 page diversion from the main story comprised entirely of real snippets (embellished, no doubt) from the baltimore sun. its all fun though and barth makes it rly easy to navigate all his weird little asides with footnotes to help u with the tale of the telling of the tale, of cia assassinations, hippie hitchhiking gone haywire, divorces, divorcees, shipwrecks, mysterious islands, etc, etc, etc... i thought itd be a lot denser than it is but its kinda pulpy in all honesty i love it. anyways yah after i post my little writing im logging off, i really came to enjoy my time away from online. i do see the weird serendipity? irony? that the two books i had on hand when i checked in are about a paranoid schizo -- which i am now aware i'm not despite concerning posts lol -- and a sabbatical, which this sort of was. in a way. a time of reflection certainly. yomi signing off, over and out.

EDIT: after further thought i'd like to rescind my refutation of the schizo label i still lack formal diagnosis but. i'm definitely adjacent

[liberifatalis]

flood & flame

previous chapter | next chapter

This chapter has also been posted on AO3.

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: death/murder, descriptions of drug use, physical effects of long-term drug use.

CHAPTER FOUR

BEFORE SIX MONTHS AGO…

RENO HAD PLACED what looked to be five piles of paperwork in front of your desk, stacked too high for your comfort; they had reached just below your chin.

“And what am I meant to do with all this?” You asked.

“Read them,” he said, bringing his palm up to his forehead and giving it a tap, mouthing the word ‘Duh’. His sarcasm was infuriating, of course you were to read paperwork. “You’re meant to do all that operations analyst stuff you do best. Have you finished the Gongaga report yet?”

“I wasn’t aware I answered to you.” You peered up at him from the corner of your eye with a faint smirk. He gave you a blank response in return. “Kidding.” You flashed him an apologetic smile. “No, I haven’t finished it yet.”

“Well, considering you’re going to Kalm next week to continue the mission, I don’t think Shinra is in a rush for you to finish it,” Reno said. He fell into the leather seat on the other side of the desk, directly opposite you, opening up his laptop. “How was the SOLDIER, by the way? Was he grumpy?”

“He was…something,” you said, unsure how to even answer the question. There was a lot to say about Sephiroth, and somehow not much at all.

“He’s not too bad if he tolerates you.”

“Oh. You know from experience?”

“Nope.” Reno flashed you a cheesy grin, one that told you he knew just how much of a pain in the ass he was, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You enjoyed his self-awareness.

You continued trying to draft up a report of the events at Gongaga, the room silent save for Reno typing on his laptop and the paperwork rustling underneath the air conditioning vent. There wasn’t much to include that hadn’t already been mentioned in the document file Sephiroth showed you. The only thing you had to add was the description of the monster’s eyes according to the witness, the location it was supposedly heading towards, and the Materium in the syringe that was found.

Hold on. Had there been any mention of the monsters’ eyes in the original document file?

You tried recalling details you skimmed over; how many monsters were spotted, the locations, the death toll, what was destroyed. You couldn’t recall a single eyewitness account describing the monsters’ faces. Even the few photographs that were included didn’t show their eyes.

That was odd.

People had directly seen the monsters and there were enough eyewitness accounts. You would have thought anyone would mention Mako eyes if they had seen it.

Unless only the monster in Gongaga had the glowing, Mako eyes? It was a possibility. Not one you were willing to accept at that moment, however.

“Do I have access to the mission briefing room on level 49?” You asked Reno.

He gave you a quick nod, eyes still focused on the laptop screen, fluorescent blue-light illuminating his concentrated features.

Perfect. You left the room and swiftly made your way to the elevator, ascending to level 49. You weren’t even sure if the document file was placed in the mission briefing room, just going on a whim. But it should be there, considering there was another room of filing cabinets. Sephiroth could have left it in Lazard’s office, though, and only first-class SOLDIERs had access to his office.

You realised that there wasn’t any mention of syringes found, either. Not a mention of Materium, too. Maybe it really was just a bunch of coincidences…

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped onto level 49, making your way directly to the mission briefing room, not bothering to smile politely at any of the off-duty SOLDIERs hanging around. They didn’t seem to notice you anyway, focused on their own conversations together and making absurd juvenile jokes.

Stepping into the mission briefing room, it appeared to be the same as it was last time, not a single chair out of place. You and Sephiroth were the last to be in there, it seemed.

You practically galloped to the other side of the room, and once you stepped into the small filing cabinet room, you were unsure where to start. There were multiple rows of tall, black filing cabinets, placed against the walls of the room and in the centre. They were up to your shoulder in height, and each had laminate labels on them, ranging in alphabetical order and then in order of year.

Your first thought went to the obvious. ‘M’ for monster.

You opened the filing cabinet which stored all the files labeled under ‘M’, and hurriedly went through every single document. Glancing the title on top of the files to save time, you briefly saw flashes of multiple missions and investigation cases, though none of them were related to the current mission you were attending with SOLDIER.

You gave the year-labeled cabinets a try after no success.

Bingo. There it was. It was the second last document file inside the filing cabinet, placed in front of another document file with the title of: ‘REPORT 087: MONTHLY ANTI-SHINRA ORGANISATION STATUS UPDATE.'

Huh?

You tossed the document file of your current mission aside, and read through the first and only page of the report.

Current objective: reduce anti-Shinra influence. Data suggests that multiple anti-Shinra organisations have grown in member size by at least 3% combined. Current known high threat anti-Shinra groups: Blizzard and Avalanche. There are multiple anti-Shinra groups that exist, but the majority of them are protestors and have little influence. We will be focusing on the groups that have a significant impact, in hopes of coercing the smaller groups to disband. Previous protest group Landslide were defeated six years ago due to SOLDIER intervention. Landslide was smaller in size compared to current groups, so we will need higher skilled forces to take down Blizzard and Avalanche. Sephiroth and Genesis had intercepted another anti-Shinra protest last month, killing eight terrorists. The terrorists are assumed to be Blizzard members due to tattoos. No safe house has been located yet. No leader of either group has been identified. Attached below are locations frequented by the criminals. All terrorists are to be killed immediately, regardless of age and activity. Affiliation to Blizzard and Avalanche is treason. Any and all protests and propaganda against Shinra are to be considered a high threat, and must be prioritised over any other operation. Threats to public order are to be summarily put down. Sephiroth is to continue tracking down and intercepting members of Blizzard and Avalanche upon my command, regardless of time and other duties he is attending. Signed, Heidegger, Director of Shinra Inc. Public Safety.

So that’s what Sephiroth was doing. He was hunting anti-Shinra personnel, including members of Blizzard. Had he killed people you knew already? Close allies? You weren’t going to entertain the thought. A loss of life was always difficult to comprehend, no matter how desensitised to death you were, and knowing that there was a possibility these were people you had once shared conversations and laughs with made you dwell on thoughts you no longer allowed yourself to have.

Everyone knew the risk attached with being in an anti-Shinra organisation. They all knew that their lives weren’t guaranteed, and spending time mourning and pondering over lives that were lost was a waste of time to you. You stopped allowing yourself the space to grieve a long, long time ago. There were other things you needed to focus on.

You put the report back into the filing cabinet and picked up the document file you had came for, making your way out of the room and back into the mission briefing room.

You spread the document file haphazardly onto the desk, scanning each page. Just like you remembered, the report was extremely brief, and the only substantial information it had were the eyewitness testimonies and photographs of the monster itself.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you looked at the photographs again.

'Photograph A' was of a monster from the side view. It was on all fours, wings appearing to be battered and almost withered, and you could see the sharp teeth even from a distance.

'Photograph B' was of another monster from behind. You could see the veins protruding beneath the skin, dark as night, and this monster also had the same withered wings. These creatures almost looked like they were dead, akin to rotting corpses.

'The witnesses who had taken these photographs were violently mauled by the monsters in the images above. The monsters have not been found.'

God. How many more people were going to die over this? Shinra wasn’t putting enough effort into the investigation, evidently not bothered over the amount of civilian deaths, and the monsters spawning at random times and locations didn’t seem to be of their concern, either.

There was no mention of syringes or Materium being found in the file, as you had correctly recalled. You wondered if that was due simply to the half-assed investigation and Shinra troops not looking hard enough, considering that Sephiroth had found the three syringes two weeks after troops had first gone to Gongaga.

The photographs of the monsters almost had a gravitational pull; your eyes were unable to tear away. The unease that was building in your stomach was warning, screaming at you to tell you whatever was going on was going to be far worse than you imagined. Everything felt off. You were hoping for it all to be coincidences, and nothing more.

“What are you doing here?”

Your eyes snapped up to the direction of the voice, narrowing once you locked eyes with Sephiroth. He was sneaking up on you more frequently, and you had no idea how the hell he was always so quiet.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, tone sharp and annoyed. Wasn’t he supposed to be on another mission?

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Sephiroth said. He eyed the disorganised paperwork on the desk.

“It’s fine.” You pointed to the paperwork below. “Are you wanting to take the document file?”

“No.” He came to stand beside you, picking up one of the photographs and let out an exhale through his nose. “I think you were right. This all seems to be nonsensical.”

“It does seem that way,” you said. “Have the contents of the syringe been tested yet?”

“Not yet. The scientists at the lab are focusing on other things, so I’ve been told.” He placed the photograph down and started to collect all the paperwork, neatly folding them on top of each other and placing them back into the folder. “I would like for you to tell me more about Materium.”

“Is that why you’re here?” You asked him with raised brows.

“I was in here before, looking through all the filing cabinets. There wasn't anything that included Materium.”

Had anyone from Shinra ever come across Materium? You had always thought they were aware of it, especially SOLDIER forces. So many people in the Slums were addicted to Materium, and the smell of it was everywhere. Was Shinra unaware or did they just not care enough?

“Well, what do you want to know?” You sat down in the leather chair, motioning with your hand for Sephiroth to do the same.

He hesitated at first, choosing to stand for a couple of seconds, then reluctantly fell back into the chair. He looked very uncomfortable—the leather chair was clearly made with regular-sized people in mind, and it looked like he had squeezed himself to fit in it. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your laugh over how comical it looked.

“You said people in the Slums have been using Materium for decades.” His face was back to its normal, stoic appearance, all traces of frustration and uncomfortability had disappeared. “Who invented it?”

“Oh, I have no idea who did that,” you said. “I was just some kid who lived in the Slums and grew up there. Nobody really knows who invented it.”

That was the truth. You knew where to purchase Materium, and Blizzard was one of many that were distributing it, but you had no idea who invented it, who was making it, and why it was invented. You didn’t know who Blizzard and all the others were purchasing it from, either. There was a source, there had to be, but no one was able to give you any answers when you questioned them.

“I see.” Sephiroth looked almost disappointed. “You had mentioned that it was liquefied Materia.”

“Yes. It’s not made straight from Mako, but it’s made from Materia, which is then liquefied. I’m sure you know what Materia is, right?” Once he gave you a nod, you continued. “I know Mako is the liquid form of the Lifestream, but I suppose Materia is easier to make into a drug as each Materia already has a specific use. I don’t know, I’m not really good at this science stuff.”

“What type of Materia is most commonly used?” He asked.

“Healing Materia. Many people in the Slums are ill, or they are trying to get by. I’ve only ever seen Materium that’s made out of Healing Materia.”

Sephiroth looked deep in thought, absorbing all your words and trying to comprehend them. Two harsh parallel lines had formed between his brows, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

“Have you really never been told about this?” You were in disbelief.

“You are the first to inform me of Materium,” he said. “How is it…taken?”

“It’s injected with syringes. I’ve heard talk that there’s a powder form, but I’ve never seen it myself.”

He was listening intently, eyes hard and focused, and you could almost see him taking mental notes in his head with a pen and paper. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking.

“And what are the effects?” Sephiroth asked.

“Well, it’s Healing Materia, so it’s meant to be soothing, I guess? If someone has a terminal illness that causes a lot of pain, it dulls the pain. It can help with depression, anxiety, anything like that. But the effects are temporary. You need to keep taking Materium, as it can’t make anything go away forever.”

“Have you ever tried it?” His eyes pierced into yours, giving you that look you had become well-accustomed to. He was analysing you, scanning over your form, looking for any changes in body language, a hint of something on your face he would be able to discern.

You were going to tell him it was none of his business, but you decided upon telling the truth. There was no need to shut him out completely, due to the fact that you had to get close to him. If you made it seem like you were open and vulnerable, he might be more inclined to trust you. Nobody liked a grumpy, guarded woman. There was always the silent expectation to be inviting and welcoming—emotional, but just so, not to the point of tears, but confined and controlled enough to be seen as nurturing. You could do that.

“Never.” You turned in your chair to face him directly, feigning sorrow and melancholy. You had used your face and tone before to get what you wanted, and you could absolutely use it to fool a man into thinking you were inviting him in with open arms. So many people had assumed you were honest and genuine, and it cost them everything; Sephiroth had to believe it, too. “I wanted to, though…plenty of times, but I was too scared. Seeing what it did to people made me never touch it.”

“You made a wise choice,” Sephiroth said. He stared at you for a moment, eyes firm and alert. Like always, you were unable to read him, unsure what he was thinking. “What does it do to people?”

The images appearing in your mind almost made you shudder. You had seen plenty of faces and bodies, all destroyed by long-term use of Materium. They were people, who probably had family or friends, and their lives were taken from them.

“Anyone who takes Materium for long enough dies,” you said. “But it’s a slow death. They decay. At first it starts on the inside, but then you start to see it on their bodies, on their skin—there are sores all over their bodies, sometimes even open wounds, like the flesh is being eaten away. Their eyes fade, and they become malnourished and so thin, and then they just…go. By the time you start seeing the sores on their skin, they don’t respond to anything and can barely speak. It’s awful.”

Sephiroth looked affronted. Judging from how he spoke with you at Gongaga, he was probably deeply concerned and even horrified. He had shown you genuine concern for people, so you wouldn’t be too shocked if the information you were relaying to him was somewhat upsetting to hear.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you, it’s a bit much.” You gave him a sheepish smile, hoping you hadn’t turned him off from ever getting close with you.

“There is no need to apologise, I asked a question and you answered it truthfully.” Sephiroth raised himself from the chair and walked towards the door, giving you a firm nod. “I must leave now. You should probably get back to your work.”

“Oh. Sure.” His abruptness was off-putting, as usual. He was skilled at many things, but ending a conversation naturally was not one of those skills. “Is that an order?” You asked, a smirk ghosting your lips.

“It is.”

Just as he was turning around to leave, you saw a faint smile appear on his face.

You noticed that Reno was still in the same place you had last seen him in the auditing room, typing away on his laptop. His fingers worked at a quicker pace, typing with more force, and you could make out from the scowl on his face that he was frustrated.

“Still going?” You asked, placing the document file on your side of the desk and stretching your neck to glance at his laptop screen.

He let out a loud groan and slammed the laptop shut, leaning back into the chair and rubbing his eyes.

“This is such bullshit,” Reno said. “Rude gets a couple weeks of vacation leave and I’m here typing out reports for hours!”

“Such is life, right?” You said.

He peered up at you with narrowed eyes. “Can’t you offer a supportive shoulder right now and let me complain?” He relaxed his body and extended his legs, flopping his arms against his sides and swiveling in the chair. “My brain hurts. What time is it, anyway?”

You glanced at the clock behind Tseng’s desk. “It’s twelve.”

“Fuck yes. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Like, on a date?” You brought up a hand and covered your mouth, gasping slightly and putting on a surprised face.

“Please.” He walked to the door and rolled his eyes. “I never shit where I eat, newbie.”

“That’s an…odd way of putting it.” You followed after him and let out a laugh.

The growing sense of comfort you felt with Reno was strange. You had only known him for a couple days, having met him the week prior, but it felt like you had known him for years. He was temperamental, brazen, vulgar, and cocky, but on top of all of that he was entirely authentic—he never tried to conceal the aspects of himself that others often found unbearable and off-putting, and while you knew he had the skills of manipulation due to being a Turk, he never hid the unpleasant side of himself from anyone.

Reno had no filter, letting out any and every vulgarity and taboo without a second thought, and you respected that. Honestly, you were kind of envious, too. You had concealed the parts of yourself that worried you; the thoughts of revenge, the building resentment you had at God knows who or what, the selfish desires…sometimes you wished you could just let them all free to do as they please, letting them take the reins. But would your authenticity be at the detriment of everyone else?

You glanced over at him as you were both in the elevator, taking notice of his features. He had two symmetrical red tattoos in the shape of a scar just under his eyes, and his skin was near perfect with no sign of dark circles or sun damage. He wasn’t tall and was quite lanky, but he was undeniably handsome and charming, in a rough sort of way.

If the circumstances were different and you met him at a bar in the Slums, you would have been tempted to fool around with him if you ever got close enough. He seemed fun. He was the type where you would inevitably find out later on that it was best to stay friends.

As if he could feel your stare, his eyes caught yours and a toothy grin appeared on his face.

Reno nudged your arm with his elbow. “Would you like to take a picture?”

“I don’t want to see your face more than I have to,” you said, mocking his grin and nudging his arm back.

He let out a chuckle as the elevator doors opened on Level 63. You stepped out into a dark corridor, a large Shinra logo sat against the wall directly opposite you giving you a solemn welcome. On both sides of the corridor were corporate offices, with large glass windows enclosing both rooms. The staff were sitting at their desks on their computers, all seated closely together.

You followed after Reno, sticking to the left, and made your way past an automatic door, walking into an expansive room with tall, glass windows on one side. There were round tables placed across the room, with an atrium in the centre storing a tall tree and shrubbery. The floor had the same dark, marble tiling that was throughout the entire Shinra building, and the ceiling was made of dark, reflective panelling, casting rainbow hues as the sun reflected off it. To your right was a spiral staircase, and up ahead was a small Cafeteria with a couple Shinra workers lined up.

The atrium didn’t help the atmosphere, nor did the plants placed carefully around the room. It still felt like Midgar—still felt confined and devoid of life. But the view outside the tall windows did help. Slightly.

“What do you want?” Reno asked, standing in front of you.

“Just get me whatever you’re having, with water.”

“Oh?” He quirked his head to the side. “So I’m paying?”

“You offered.” You shook your head and walked past him, shoving him lightly with your shoulder, and pointed to a table in the far corner, directly in front of the tall windows. “We’ll sit over there.”

“Sir, yes sir.” He gave you a weak salute and stood in line.

You strolled towards the table, eyes focused on the view of Midgar outside the windows. You weren’t able to see the entire city, but you saw more buildings than you could count and bustling traffic, and in the left corner of the windows you could see the infrastructure of the Shinra building.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone, and your eyes were drawn to the first notification. 'BREAKING NEWS! ANTI-SHINRA TERRORISTS IN SECTOR 1.'

You opened the news article, greeted by images of third-class SOLDIERs and scared citizens.

‘A complete lockdown has been enforced for all residents of Sector 1 and Sector 2. Anti-Shinra terrorists invaded the public square of Sector 1, blocking off the surrounding roads. They set up a protest in the square, spreading out propaganda flyers and plastering posters onto buildings. Residents in the area were forced to view the protest.’

There was a picture of one of the posters in the article. It was black in colour, with a picture of a finger, meant to be pointing directly at the viewer. Behind the finger was a drawing of the planet. The text was spray painted red. 'YOU ARE NOT FREE OF SIN. THE PLANET WILL COME FOR ALL OF YOU!'

Interesting. The protest seemed like Blizzard’s work at first glance, but the posters were…different to how they usually were. Blizzard didn’t ever really say things of such critical, accusing nature. They wanted to come off as virtuous and ethical, and always focused on pointing the blame at Shinra, rather than blaming residents of Midgar’s Upper-plate. Luring people to the cause was tricky work, and they had to be careful and intentional with the language they used. These protestors, however, seemed to put all their vengeance and hatred on display, not wanting to recruit anyone, just wanting to make a statement.

‘The terrorists brought out three Shinra employees to the protest, all from the Research and Development division. The Shinra employees were bound with zip-ties and their eyes were covered with cloth. One of the employees, name unknown, was shot point-blank. The residents were forced to watch.’

Oh God. Could this really be Blizzard’s doing? They hadn’t ever done something like this publicly before. You had killed Turks and lower class SOLDIERs before when they had come across you on a mission, but that was different. You weren’t performing a public execution.

Their deaths had never bothered you. It seemed like a justified trade-off for the destruction of the planet. Anyone who worked at Shinra, whether it was in the corporate offices, or the Public Security Forces, was complicit in the planet’s destruction.

But to publicly execute them? To traumatise people who were just out getting lunch and enjoying the fresh air? That was unjustifiable to you. There was no way this was Blizzard’s doing. Blizzard was shady and power hungry, yes, but they wouldn’t risk their ability to gain more recruits.

You continued to read the article, biting your nails until your fingers were sore.

‘Just as the terrorists were about to murder the second Shinra employee, SOLDIER forces stepped in.’

There was a photo of Sephiroth from behind. He was as he always looked, wearing his SOLDIER uniform. But he was wielding Masamune, which you hadn’t seen before. The end of the weapon was soaked in red, blood dripping off the sharp steel and staining the gravel beneath it.

‘First-class SOLDIER Sephiroth had carefully and quickly disarmed the terrorists, with third-class SOLDIERs evacuating the residents. Shinra is to release a public statement tonight, and has placed Sector 1 and Sector 2 on lockdown. No residents in these Sectors are to leave their buildings and are to stay indoors until told otherwise. We will release more information and instructions once Shinra has released their public statement. Third-class SOLDIERs are patrolling the two Sectors for the time being. We can assure the people of Midgar that the residents of Sector 1 and Sector 2 are safe and protected. Please call the Shinra public helpline if you need any help, resources or assistance.’

It was past nine o’clock, you knew that for sure without even glancing at the clock.

You were not even one-third through the stacks of paperwork Reno had left for you, and you still weren’t finished with the Gongaga report. You knew you had the rest of the week to get it all finished, but that was only two days, and you had a feeling this would take you much, much longer.

The paperwork Reno had left you was a mix of things: it had data, mission reports, budget and funding reports, and a list of stakeholders and clients. You had started tackling the data first, as it was the most straightforward to you. All you had to do was read the reports first and transfer everything to your laptop, then you would be able to make notes, analyse all the data, and create presentations. Easier said than done.

The data you were reading through was similar to what Tseng had brought up two days prior. There was data regarding the decline in SOLDIER recruits, as well a small decline in support for Shinra overall. To you, it wasn’t significant enough to be of concern, but you knew anything other than complete support was alarming for Shinra. Shinra heavily utilised propaganda and had most of Gaia under their thumb, so even if there were only ten people out of millions who were against them, that was ten too many. Shinra needed every single person on the planet on board with the company and their initiatives, because that was the easiest and fastest way to bleed the planet dry and expand their power.

One thing that did concern you was the data for the first-class SOLDIER’s fanclubs. They fucking had fanclubs—that’s just how deep the propaganda went.

Sephiroth’s multiple fanclubs gave him the highest number of fans, with hundreds of websites and forums dedicated to him, and there was even merchandise that was sold. Both Angeal and Genesis had fanclubs with growing numbers, and Genesis actually had two clubs, but it was nothing in comparison to the silver-haired SOLDIER, whose fanclubs combined had just under half a million members.

Other than his ordinary fanclubs, he had one exclusive fanclub, which none of the other first-classes had. It was called the ‘Silver Elite’, and they were composed of his most devoted fans. You could only be accepted into the Silver Elite if you answered a bunch of questions correctly, whereas the other fanclubs were accessible to anyone who wanted to join.

Members of Sephiroth’s fanclubs, including the ‘Silver Elite’, had an average age range of 16 to 20 years old, as the data showed, and they were mostly women and girls, with twenty-one percent being men and boys.

You were tempted to open up a tab on your laptop and search for more information on Sephiroth’s fanclubs, especially the Silver Elite, curious if there was anything that would be useful. You typed ‘Sephiroth fanclub’ in the search bar, and saw pages and pages worth of links to interviews, forums, and videos. You had no clue where to start.

You scrolled down and your eyes caught a specific title. '♡Favourite Things About Our Silver Soldier Sephiroth♡'.

You hesitated. This felt…pathetic, honestly. If anyone had seen you doing this, you would be deeply ashamed.

You clicked on it anyway.

You were on a SOLDIER fan forum, one not dedicated to any particular first-class SOLDIER, and the banner at the top of the forum was a poorly-edited collage of the first-classes, with all three of them wearing flower crowns. The thread you were on had over a hundred comments.

icysilverangelxoxo commented: I love how mysterious and quiet he is!!! Ugh, all the boys at my school are loud and don’t shut up.

guest25879 commented: His hair is so prettyyyyyy. I wonder what it smells like O.O

What a bunch of nonsense.

If they spent more than ten minutes with him, they wouldn’t be feeling this way.

You looked through other fan forums, read a bunch of articles, but there was nothing. No information you hadn’t already known, and no information that would be of use to you.

You slammed your laptop shut and brought your hands up to your face.

Letting out a deep exhale, you massaged your temples with firm pressure and shut your eyes, hoping to bring yourself back down to reality. You were exhausted and frustrated, eyes heavy and head pounding from all the reading and focusing you had to do for that day. Reading all the data regarding Sephiroth’s fanclub as well as reading all the information on the internet did not help at all, it was like it was almost mocking you, teasing you; there was absolutely nothing out there about Sephiroth that had any substance. You were alone in the dark, working your way up from the bottom of a dried-up well. You thought you would be able to find something that would help you, something to start a conversation and make it easier to get him closer to you. But there was nothing.

You got up from your seat and pushed all the paperwork to the side. You would continue this the day after, as there was absolutely no way you were going to spend another second in that auditing room without breaking something.

You recalled Reno mentioning the Skyview Hall in the building, when you were talking about the view of Midgar on your lunch break. He said it looked amazing at night.

You weren’t ready to go back to your apartment in Sector 8, not wanting to deal with the smog and blaring traffic.

What you needed was to relax before you headed back to your apartment. You needed somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from everyone. Since it was well past visiting and working hours, there shouldn’t be anyone in the building, and the Skyview Hall would be empty. You needed to see more of the Shinra building anyway to get used to the layout, you know, just in case. So you decided upon making your way to level 59.

You double checked the door to the auditing room was locked on your way out, and took the elevator. Thankfully, due to Shinra’s use of ‘groundbreaking’ technology, the elevators in the building were fast, taking just under a minute to reach your desired floor.

Stepping out onto level 59, the bottom floor of the Skyview Hall was dark, only dim neon lights on the walls and glass railings. The hall was quite similar to other rooms in the Shinra building, with the same marble floors and dark concrete walls. The difference was the view of Midgar on the periphery of the hall—just like level 63, there were tall, glass windows that overlooked the city of Midgar, but these were even taller, and they spanned across the entire hall. If you walked around the perimeter of the hall near the windows, you would be able to see all of the Sectors of Midgar.

You gravitated towards the first leather lounge you spotted, right in front of the windows, and fell onto it.

The cool air-conditioning made the air crisp, and the soft classical music emitting from the speakers was almost lulling you to sleep. The leather lounges were soft and cushioned, and it felt like your body was resting on a plush cloud. You had never sat on a lounge so comfortable, and you didn’t even want to guess how much Gil it cost. Even the bed in your Sector 8 apartment felt ridiculously low quality in comparison.

From this high, there were still only a handful of stars in the night sky. You could see more smoke coming from the thousands and thousands of endless buildings, and you had a good view of multiple reactors in the distance. You would call the view beautiful, if you didn’t know any better.

You pressed your palm against the window and brought yourself closer to the glass, trying to see if you could find your apartment. You could just make out Fountain Plaza and Loveless street, due to the bright signage and all the restaurants, but all the apartment blocks seemed to blend together, looking identical in shape and size.

The cleanliness and space is what stood out to you the most, looking down at the city from above. The Slums were overcrowded, riddled with disease and poverty and junk. The Upper-plates of Midgar were almost pristine, and even though there were plenty of people out and about, it almost appeared under control. There was always space, always room for someone, and the streets were spotless. You wondered if residents of the Upper-plates ever understood the depth of their privilege. Were they grateful? Did they take the sunshine and quiet residential areas for granted?

You took out your phone to check the time. Ten o’clock.

It was so late already, and you really should have headed home, but all the energy from your body had faded. The past couple of days were repeating over and over again in your mind—the paperwork, Gongaga, the monsters, the Materium. The entire thing was a hassle, and you were desperate to get to the bottom of it. It would have been easier to just blow the damn Shinra building up. You honestly should have done that days ago.

Heavy steps from behind tore away your focus from your phone, and you noticed the silver hair before you noticed him.

“You didn’t sneak up on me this time.” Your shoulders instinctively tensed once you caught his gaze, still not used to his overbearing presence.

“You did lecture me for that last time, if I remember correctly,” Sephiroth said, standing at the edge of the lounge.

“You call that a lecture?” You chuckled and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back into the lounge. “Anyway, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you were following me.”

He blinked. “Following you?” He sauntered over to the windows overlooking Midgar, glancing down at the city below. “There was an alert for suspicious activity. Anyone who uses their identification card on multiple floors at a time this late is automatically flagged as suspicious by the security system.”

“I was kidding.” Not entirely, though. It was a bit weird that he kept showing up. “I’m not in any trouble, am I? I just wanted to come up here.”

“Now that I have seen the suspicious activity,” he shot you a quick glance, “I can confirm you are not in any trouble.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement. He was funny, kind of, in his own way. He was incredibly stoic, so it was hard to notice at first, but his humour was on the dryer, incongruous side—almost acerbic.

“Well, that’s a relief.” You placed your forearms against the lounge’s armrest, craning your neck down to look at the city below, trying to pinpoint what he was looking at through the window. “How come you’re here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first.”

He turned his head to face you. You were sitting down while he was standing, and you had to stretch your neck just to look at him directly. He was so ridiculously tall that it was practically a liability. “I often stay back. SOLDIER barracks aren’t far from the Shinra building.”

“I see.”

“And you?”

“I wanted to come up here before I left for the night. It’s been a long day. I thought I could clear my head up here.”

His gloved hands were at his side, balled into loose fists, thumb roaming over and under his fingers. You were close enough you could hear the susurration of the leather fabric.

“I am going to the outskirts of Midgar tomorrow, near the Grasslands.” His coat brushed against the side of the lounge as he moved his body in your direction. “Monsters were sighted in the area shortly before they attacked in Kalm.”

You squinted up at him. “...Right.”

“Would you like to join me?”

You propped up your chin with your hands, elbows leaning on the armrest. “You’re going against Heidegger’s orders and continuing the mission on your own?”

“I have already finished the mission Heidegger tasked today. If I’m alerted again, I will have to follow his commands.”

“I’m happy to join you,” you said. “Just promise me I won't be fired.”

He let out a soft, suppressed laugh. “I give you my word.”

You were taking in his features, unable to look away, his stare drawing you in and locking you in place. His eyes were red and heavy, lacking their usual permeating glow. You noticed the darkness underneath them that wasn’t there the day before. The small signs of exhaustion were showing on his face, and your mind flashed to the news article you had seen earlier of the Sector 1 attack.

“I saw the news of what happened in Sector 1.” Your voice was quiet, almost a murmur.

His body tensed.

“Are you…okay?” Was it too early to act concerned? You knew he was of a higher intelligence than most, and he’d be intelligent enough to sniff out a poorly constructed facade.

“I’m fine.” His eyes were downcast.

“You look tired.” You pushed against the cushions of the lounge to lift yourself up. You were close enough to see the pores on his skin and the thickness of his eyelashes. His gaze caught yours again, firm and unyielding. He wasn’t going to crack today.

“You should go get some rest,” you said.

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, only slightly. “Is that an order?”

“It is,” you said.

#sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #reader insert #sephiroth x oc #ff7 #ffvii #crisis core #mine #flood and flame #reno

[28whitepeonies]

Hi prev anon here. I was indeed talking about Palestine. It's just that I woke up to harryspeakup trending and ranted in your anon, sorry for that.

I am aware of harry's zionistic tendencies and both of their watered down and most of the time problematic politics. I do agree with fans being critical of them, it's the fans having to beg for them to speak up is what frustrated me.

Have a great day bea!

Hello anon

Thanks for coming back and clarifying! Sorry I assumed this was maybe one of those anons people send to 49 people as they are often context-less so I probably wasn’t very generous in responding!

I haven’t really been using twitter recently so if stuff is trending or fans are up to something on there I’m a bit out the loop but I also don’t have a lot of interest in that rn.

So coming at this from at this slightly differently, I think there are a couple of reasons people might not be saying something publicly on this. And I suspect that Harry and Louis probably do have a view that goes beyond not caring about it at all.

For Harry I imagine his politics haven’t changed madly and he is, to some extent, pro-Israel. I also suspect the decision to not come out and say that is not because of any strength of political feeling, but that he is too business savvy to do so and he doesn’t want the backlash. Some fans being angry that he’s not saying anything while others are able to tell whatever story they like about him probably seems like a better position than coming out and saying something in support of Israel which will be divisive.

With Louis we of course know less, I think out of the two he’s more likely to support either a ceasefire or Palestinian resistance to occupation but that’s a low bar. Some of that has to do with the people he is friends with who are very vocally supportive of Palestine.

Taking all that in context I think that if Harry were to say anything it’s not what fans actually are hoping for with the ‘harryspeakup’ trend.

#anon

[redbelles]

author interview

tagged by: @starrybouquet and @sluttyhenley; i'm love you both 💖

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

49 + 1 currently unrevealed work

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

240,810

3. what fandoms do you write for?

i never truly abandon old fandoms, but recently been it's house of the dragon, elden ring, stranger things, gilmore girls, and some niche fandoms like berserk and [redacted]

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

like a heartbeat drives you mad

the dreadful need in the devotee

and my body found the wind

stuck in colder weather

all the love you need

5. do you respond to comments?

yes! it may take me eighty-four years, but i love and appreciate every comment i receive, and i will get around to responding to them eventually! i swear!

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

lmao uh. probably either the clouds will form a crown or in the violence of our dreams, both of which just provide nuance around the canon endings of robert baratheon and judas, respectively

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmm. this is a self drag, but i feel like i rarely do out and out straightforwardly happy endings? i feel like the answer is either the mercy wheel, which fixes dany's atrocious season eight character arc, or tongue's talkin' riddles (sticky sweet), which gives chrissy and eddie a mostly happy future together instead of horrible deaths in deeply cursed hawkins

8. do you get hate on fics?

nope

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

unfortunately, i do in fact write sex. most of it very explicit, even! i'm a big believer in sex as an emotionally-charged vehicle for character development

also sometimes you just wanna see two characters bone, you know?

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i have a lot of fun throwing crossover spaghetti at the wall in various dms, but i have never actually written a crossover

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of, no

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

i've had a couple requests to translate my fics, but i unfortunately had to say no because the translators wanted to host the translations outside of AO3, which is not something i'm comfortable with

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

i have indeed! keep calling me home is a really fun little round robin fic i wrote with three other authors a couple years ago

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

you want me to choose? come back with a warrant.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

shut UP leave me ALONE i am GOING to finish all my wips!!!!!!!

16. what are your writing strengths?

emotion! imagery! themes!

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

l m a o it's plot. also: humor.

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

unless you speak the language, it gets real dicey real fast. i personally avoid it unless a) it’s a canonical term/phrase, like all the faux-russian bullshit in the grisha trilogy, or b) i can check the grammar/usage with a native speaker or someone who is solidly fluent

19. first fandom you wrote for?

[redacted] way back ages ago on [redacted]

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

oh man, this is tough! i think right now it's something in the night, because i got to dig in to one of my all-time favorite characters by having him froth at the mouth about my all-time favorite musician, and i'm really pleased with how it turned out

(jess mariano: absolutely unhinged about bruce springsteen! just like me!)

tagging: @littlelindentree @hyperphonic @windowsandfeelings @ninzied @carry-the-sky @majicmarker @woodswit @ladywaffles @jacyevans @thatworldinverted @scoopsgf and anyone else who wants a go ✨

#dash games #writing: best worst hobby

[mercurydancer]

An Unexpected Chance Pt. 20

Taking Overs and Happenings

_

Boba would give Jango the pleasure of seeing all that he might have become had he grown up with a loving and caring father... - R. A Salvatore, Attack of the Clones Novelization

"The government he would serve would be Authority personified. Human Authority… At war's end the aliens would be crushed, stripped of all they possessed, and their systems and their wealth would be given to the hands of the only beings who could be trusted with them. Human beings. Dooku would serve an Empire of Man."

"He's no longer even entirely human. With Grievous, the use of those bio-droid devices is almost forgivable; he was such a disgusting creature already that his mechanical parts are clearly an improvement. But a blend of droid and human? Appalling. The depths of bad taste." [Dooku to Sidious about working with Anakin] - Revenge of the Sith Novelization Matthew Stover pg. 49; 51

(and anyway did you all know that Dooku was a racist ableist bitch because I tell you the fuck what... Dave Filoni makes those fucking weird choices broskis.)

_

          Shmi Skywalker stood on the exit ramp leading to a place that a piece of her heart had always lingered, and yet had never seen, and knew that it was time.

          Her husband, Cliegg beside her, Owen and his wife Beru, behind them, and even further back four Nightbrothers that had joined them in their quest, had become a part of the White Sun. To free others like them, certainly, to find the one that had saved them, absolutely.

          Shmi took a few steps into the Jedi Temple Hanger, aware of the eyes that were on her, the recognition that spread, and wondered how long it would take before…

          The doors at the far end of the hanger burst open, and for a moment Shmi was staring at the living embodiment of her own heart, staring at a young man in dark Jedi robes, Padawan haircut strange and resplendent, blue eyes that held the skies of Tatooine within them, and a smile that rivaled the sun.

          Ani.

          Her boy ran towards her with more speed than seemed possible, and enveloped her in warmth, in the depth of his love, and in that one moment it did not matter that he was taller than her, it did not matter that she could feel the power that radiated towards her in a way she never could when he was young… All that mattered was the arms that were wrapped around her belonged to her boy.

          Shmi Skywalker Lars was holding her son, and it was like no time at all had passed.

          Shmi pulled back slowly, reaching up to brush her hand through her son’s bristly hair, taking the padawan braid in her hand. She looked over the beading, the careful weaving, and then looked to her son’s eyes, smiling.

          “I am so proud of you.”

          Anakin’s eyes filled with tears, and he smiled at her. “Mom,” he said softly.

          “Hello, Ani,” she said, “it’s so good to see you.”

          “It’s…” Anakin took a step back, wiping his eyes, “it’s so good to see you,” and then he looked back at the others, taking in her small family – their small family, and the Brothers they had with them. “What…what brings you here?”

          “I came to see my baby,” Shmi said. “But I have also come to reunite Brothers and because White Sun was called.” She smiled at him, “You apparently have a lot of slaves to help free. We are only the first, the Mandalorians are coming as well.”

          “The Mandalorians?” Anakin asked, and then blinked, looking back at the Brothers, and then smiling at her. “You’ve been working with Maul.”

          “We have,” Shmi smiled. “But before he gets here come, I need to introduce you to some people.” Shmi took his hand and brought him over, standing him before her small family. “This is Cliegg Lars, he is my husband.”

          “Hello, son,” Cliegg said, and then almost immediately winced, “not…that I have to call you that now, you…you likely have to get used to the idea. I understand. I’m sorry, I…”

          “I…have a dad?” Anakin asked, his nose wrinkling slowly as he looked at him, and Shmi laughed aloud.

          “You do,” she said, walking forward to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, and then taking Owen by the hand, “and this is Owen, he is your step-brother, and this is Beru – his wife.”

          Anakin absolutely boggled, and Shmi could not stop the laughter that rose in her chest, the warmth in her at seeing her small family interact. The Brothers were hanging back, but there was nonetheless a quiet sort of joy in the way they watched. Once Anakin seemed to have settled into the idea of having this bit of family, once he had realized that they were not vanishing, and could see the way they loved each other, could see the way they fit, Shmi took the hand of the oldest brother and led him forward, smiling at seeing how the brothers linked hands together, all approaching as one.

          “Anakin,” she said, getting his attention, “this is Venom,” she said indicating the tallest and the oldest, his tattoo markings standing out black on orange, “this is Spite,” she said about the shortest, who stood beside him, tattoos curling and elegant. “This is Grudge,” she said about the one whose skin was the darkest and whose tattoos were sharp and black. “And this is Wrath,” she indicated the last, skin yellow as the sun, and eyes quick. “They are looking for the one that saved them. They are looking for Maul.”

          “They have found him,” Maul’s voice rang out, and Shmi turned her attention back finding him standing there as well as other faces that she had grown more familiar with over the years, as well as two other Brothers.

          Shmi smiled, she remembered the reports from Soln, she knew who was standing there.

          Maul had brothers. She supposed the ochre one was Feral, the one that had been with Soln as he took him to the Temple. The other, Savage…well, she had been less than pleased to hear the report from the one that took him.

          Hondo was always a pain to deal with, made worse when he was preening, and he had been preening about something even more annoying given the fact that Shmi found herself interested. Shmi looked directly at Maul and found herself smiling.

          “I see that you have found yourself restored,” she said. “I am pleased to see it, though I see it came with a few added centimeters?” she raised a brow, smiling. Maul ducked his head briefly and she laughed quietly, approaching, and standing before him, putting her hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm, and whole, and he stood before her silently as she looked him over. “You look good,” she said.

          “Thank you,” Maul said. “It is good to see you, thank you for coming.” He paused. “Why did you come?”

          Shmi smiled, “I was called,” she said, backing away, and looked to Mace who approached, his hands folded before him. “I hear you have a lot of Blood Slaves that need help.”

          “We do,” Mace said. “I do not believe it will be the same that you usually deal with, but we are not sure. Tiq has been the one that has been talking to them the most, and he will be able to help.”

          “Healer Tiq, who helped both of my boys, where is this Rodian, I would like to thank him.”

          “Oh!” a voice called, and her attention swiveled to a blue Rodian, who took a few steps forward. She met his red eyes and smiled. “Hello,” he called out as he approached, and her smile widened, reaching out to take his hand that he was very happy to give her. “It is good to meet you in person, congrats on your marriage.” He dipped his head to her husband, and smiled at her family, and Shmi watched as her husband glowed, taking a few steps forward.

          “Thank you,” he said. “I got the best deal out of it, I’m sure.”

          Shmi laughed, “Hush.” She turned to Tiq again, taking in his smile, “thank you for doing what you have. Thank you for taking care of them.”

          “Of course,” Tiq said softly, “I had much help.” And the look he gave her was warm and significant, the Rodian that she had spent much time talking to through all hours as the night as they worked together a dear friend. “They have both been wonderful and I am proud of them every day.”

          “So am I,” Shmi smiled, and squeezed his hands in both of hers, before turning to look at Maul. “I brought more of your Brothers. They have been wishing to see you, and have been very patient.”

          Maul took a moment to look at Shmi, and then to turn his attention to the Brothers, Shmi very aware of the way Wrath took a few steps forward first, the others slowly following. But as Maul watched, as his attention fixed they froze. Shmi watched as Maul’s hand curled into a slight fist, and she could see the slow shifting of something like grief, something like sadness in his eyes.

          Feral walked forward then, laughing, and carefully hooked his horns in his brother’s, and as he did Shmi could suddenly see the resemblance for what it was, could see the similarity in jaw, in facial structure, and she beamed. Feral tugged Maul’s head into a gentle angle, pointing the horns off to the side, careful, “Don’t worry,” he called, “come on, Wrath, my brother is not going to fight. He was enslaved by another Master; he does not know yet how to make friends. We shall teach him, though, yes?”

          And Shmi watched the realization spread, even as Maul’s body language relaxed, as he fell further into the invitation, and Wrath’s face spread into a wide smile.

          “Of course, we will teach him much!” and the laughter that bubbled in his voice was audible. “First lesson, then?”

          “Destructions are always better when~”

          Shmi caught the way Feral whispered to his brother, caught the moment when Maul started to stiffen and then very carefully relaxed, and that was the moment when Wrath barreled into him.

          Maul allowed himself to be rolled over in a tangled mess of fabric and limbs and laughter, helped along by the others immediately working to join in, squishing in close, Maul sitting in the middle of a tangle of brothers, including two of his own blood…

          Shmi was aware of the tears that slid down her cheeks.

          Shmi did not care, unable to stop, and unwilling to, pride and joy mixing in her chest. She remembered the young man that had first found them, the one that was looking so hard for a place to belong, a place where he could be himself, a place where he could learn… To see this…? It was all that she had ever hoped for and more.

          Shmi could also see…the moment when it began getting too much.

          Maul was a complicated and utterly tragic combination of touch-starved and so utterly alone that overstimulation was not just likely it was almost always close to the surface. She saw the moment when his enjoyment turned to that prickling desire to pull away, to run. She also saw the moment when something else shaded his gaze as well, and she wondered.

          Being a child for nearly seven months, only to finally grow, to come back, and to be…so different. For everything to be different.

          His Master was dead. Had Maul even been given the opportunity to truly process that, to process what it meant?

          But her worry was alleviated when Savage softly began extracting them, when he pulled his brother up to his feet, and when Maul turned and walked away did not do anything to stop him, nor even appear upset. Instead, he took hold of Feral’s hand, and knocked his horns against the other Brothers, ones that Shmi realized Savage likely knew.

          “My brother has been alone for a long time, and much has changed,” he said softly.

          “It is alright, Brother,” Venom said, “he will be alright.”

          Shmi caught Tiq following after, and she turned her attention to Mace, before looking back to Anakin. “We will have more time to be reacquainted soon,” she said, “but we have been called for a reason.”

          “We have more Blood Slaves to help,” Anakin smiled, and Shmi could feel nothing but pride.

_

          Maul walked.

          He did not particularly know where he was going, and he was not sure if he cared. All he knew was he had to move, he had to…

          So much was happening, so much had changed, and he still did not feel right, and he had been… Maul had been behaving erratically for a Nightbrother. They had seen him and known that he did not belong and that was why… Maul thought of all the other Brothers that he had saved. All of the other Brothers that he had taken to safety before he had heard of the Holocron… All of the ones that had been distant, that had not wanted to stand near him…

          Maul had thought they had been afraid of him because of what he had rescued them from. He had thought it had been because they were wary of his touch and his presence… Now Maul was realizing that he had simply…warded them off. He had not known how to welcome their presence and so none of them had come.

          Maul was buzzing. He did not know if it was better or worse to understand that it was because he truly did not know how to exist as a Nightbrother.

          And then…and then…Maul’s Master, he had been…

          But…

          “Maul,” Tiq’s voice called out, sending his thoughts stuttering to a brief halt, even if his legs kept walking, and Tiq quickly caught up to him, walking alongside. “Talk, pressure, movement?”

          And the question was so familiar, was one that they had worked on, a quick and dirty sort of way to figure out what his first need was, and then the possibility of going from there.

          “Movement,” Maul said, almost without thinking of it, led by the feeling of itchiness in his skin, the slight stutter in his walk that he was sure only he could feel. He needed to get used to his own body once again, and the fact that it was once again was somehow even worse. How much more could he go through? What else was he required to give? How many bits of his own hearts would he have to sacrifice before…

          “Come,” Tiq said, and turned on his heel, walking without once touching him, and Maul followed immediately. It was a drill they had perfected over the years, one that Maul could fall into and just…not think about it.

          Maul was tired of thinking.

          Maul stood in the elevator next to Tiq, closing his eyes, bouncing on his toes, feeling the way he wanted to balance, aware of his own weight in a way that he was unused to. Everything was strange.

          “Obstacles or contact?” Tiq asked softly.

          “Obstacles,” Maul said. He did not want to touch anything, not even if it was to hit it.

          He was at the point where he was certain that he would wind up hitting harder than he wanted to.

          “That’ll be good for you, yes?” Tiq hummed, “give you an opportunity to feel how your limbs want to work.”

          “Yes,” Maul agreed softly. “I am sorry.”

          “Do not be,” Tiq said. “Let’s get your energy out, give you a chance to get used to yourself, and then we can go from there. Orientation times five, yes?”

          “Who, what, where, when, why,” Maul hummed. “What is the date?”

          “The fifteenth, fifth month of the year 7954. It is eleven fifty-four in the morning, and we are in the Halls of Knowledge on the elevator heading towards the Master’s Training Room. It seemed appropriate given the circumstances.”

          “I agree,” Maul said softly. “Tiq, who am I?”

          “You are Darth Maul,” Tiq said softly, “you are a twin, you are twenty-six years old, and you are the younger brother of Savage and Feral. You have an unnatural fondness for spice,” Maul smirked, “a tendency to fling yourself in situations that are much too big for you,” that smirk shifted to a smile, “and you are also someone that I care for a very great deal.”

          Maul opened his eyes and met Tiq’s own, taking in the smile.

          “I am very proud of you, Maul,” Tiq said. “You are alright. You have been given a great deal to hold all at once, do not worry if you find yourself unable to hold it all. It is expected that you will leak a little. Let us get all of that energy out of your system and we can work on processing it.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment, taking all of that in, and softly, “Pressure would not be bad…” he breathed.

          Tiq immediately pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing, Maul finding himself leaning into it, and finally going to hug him back.

          The sound of the elevator doors opening caused Maul to take a step back. The hollowness was still there in his chest, but it was not as yawning.

          “Come on,” Tiq said and led him to the training rooms.

_

          Tiq was aware of the way that Maul was buzzing, could feel the burn in the other’s presence, the flickers of flame that shivered. Tiq could not blame him, and when they finally came into the training rooms, Tiq walked off to the side, very aware of the way Maul launched himself forward into a sprint.

          Tiq picked up the player that he had left here, and flicked through the songs, before finally humming and picking the tune he thought would work the best, and pressed play.

          Tiq moved to sit with his legs crossed and watched.

          As the music swelled Maul ran, leaning further and further forward before finally rolling forward and springing up, landing on his hands and letting himself fall backwards in an arch, catching himself on his feet and once again springing. He smoothed his motions as the words in the song crooned, allowing himself to stretch his limbs, to roll and pose, to leap and to adjust.

          It was always spectacular watching Maul move, and he had only improved with age.

          As the song crunched Maul sped up, letting his knees go to his chest, his limbs to akimbo, his feet to nearly fly across the mats, twisting and rolling and spinning, and then when the singer’s voice began he once again slowed his movements, letting himself stretch, to grow accustomed to that extra length.

          Maul slowly grew more comfortable, letting himself leap higher, roll longer, and finally begin to leap off the obstacles that were scattered. He ran up walls, swung himself over edges and plummeted sheer drops, rolling and spinning and twisting as he did so. As the song ended, Tiq picked another, humming quietly as he crunched through and found one whose energy cranked even higher.

          The drums pounded, escalating, as it beat and beat and beat…

          And finally, it all exploded, and Maul launched himself into motion.

          There were no attempts to stretch this time, no attempts to slow it down, the motions violent, a kata in air, all swift kicks, and fists and what would be blood.

          And then finally the song cranked down, and Maul froze, foot high in the air above his own head, a straight-line drawn heel to heel, and he slowly lowered that foot down, brought it level to groin, and held it, still keeping to that line with his thighs. It wound itself up and Maul kicked straight up, fell backwards, and rolled into a series of twists and rolls, ending finally as the song warbled and trailed off with that same line with the other leg.

          And finally, he stood there, bouncing on his toes, and began slowly easing himself into a much gentler series of movements.

          And so Tiq played one last song, smirking softly as the soft cords resonated, and the song truly began, and Maul blinked, before laughing, and then closed his eyes and just let himself move.

          Sweeping low, all movements about length, about reach, about growing used to the limits of his own flexibility… He let his limbs stretch and curl and pull and push, shifting as the pitch warbled, as her voice bent and he slowly allowed himself to follow. Tiq watched as the last song moved him through a cooldown, as he let himself roll forwards along the ground, to touch his toes, to lean his chest to the floor between his split legs and bring them slowly up over his head, and then slowly to stretch out along the floor again.

          Tiq was certain his own bones would have broken.

          The song carried Maul through his final movements, through the drawing of several lines, and finally Maul lay on the ground completely flat, his eyes closed, and the tension that had been in his limbs, had been vibrating just under the skin had finally eased.

          “I would have thought you’d develop a spine with age,” Tiq called softly, “it seems I was wrong.”

          Maul laughed.

          Tiq counted it as a win.

          Maul slowly stood up then, shaking his limbs out once and then finally approaching Tiq, and Tiq could see how much smoother he was, how his gait had gentled, and he seemed to fit himself more, before finally sitting down crossed legged before him.

          “Hello,” Tiq said with a smile.

          “Hello,” Maul said, breathing deep and slow. “You said you had something for me?”

          “I do,” Tiq said. “And for as much as I wish to give it to you now, I think we need to settle everything else first. It’s…a gift, but it can also be a double-edged one.”

          “And double-edged sabers are handled with much care.”

          “Exactly,” Tiq grinned. “So first…how are you?”

          “I…” Maul laughed, rough, and understandably wet, “Tiq I do not understand, so much has happened, I just…” he closed his eyes. “I feel like everything is moving so fast, and I am… I have brothers? I have brothers and they love me, and I remember…so much and not enough, and I have…all of this is inside of me, and I do not know where it goes, I do not know where it fits with who I am and what I became, and… There is a part of me that feels like I can allow…I can allow…myself to breathe…the space to relax…and the other part of me that knows better. My Master is dead, and my brother killed him to spare me… My Master was the Chancellor, and he was…kind…to me…” Maul wiped his face.

          “Tiq, why was he so kind to me? Was he just…was he trying…and when he said…was he just trying to fool me? To destroy me?” Maul held his hands out and Tiq took them, holding them within his own softly. “Tiq I do not understand,” he breathed. “I do not want… I want…” Maul’s expression crumbled, and he pulled his hands back, fisting them in his lap, “why would I grieve? Why would I grieve when I know…I know that he must have… Tiq…do you think that he hated me?”

          Tiq smiled, and it was rough, and it was hard. “And so, we once again are at the question at the center, and this time I do have an answer. And it is one I think you know, which is why you keep questioning it. It’s the reason you find yourself grieving even when you hate. And I know you hate him. I know you do. I know that you are not grieving the man. You are grieving the ideal. You are grieving what you wished it could have been. And this, Maul, is the most natural thing in the Galaxy.”

          “I hate it,” Maul hissed.

          “I know,” Tiq said, “and that is okay. That is okay. It is perfectly understandable.” Tiq took a breath and sighed. “Maul, if I had…if I had any other choice I do not know if I would talk to you about this so soon. But things are out of my hands…  Count Dooku…was your Master’s latest weapon, and I was forced to blackmail him.”

          “You-Tiq…wait, what?”

          Tiq smiled, “you see, Dooku was under the mistaken impression…that he was worth something to your Master. That he was worth something to Darth Sidious…but he was not. He was a weapon. Something to be used and discarded. But…in order to get this through to him I was forced to tell him about you…and about the fact that while your Master believed him to be expendable, to be…exploitable… Maul,” Tiq breathed softly, “your Master did love you, as much as I think he could love anyone.”

          Maul was silent for a moment, his eyes so wide, and so… “Oh,” he breathed.

          “But Maul,” Tiq said, and reached out, Maul taking his hands, unthinking, unhesitatingly, holding so tight… Tiq could feel the tremor, could see… “Maul listen, this is one of the most important things about love that you have to understand – Love is not enough, and in some cases, in many ways…love can actually be used to hurt, to cut. And your Master cut you deep with it. His affection was possession, and his love was in the form of control and, too, in a way, on an ideal. That you could not meet this ideal is not anything to do with you. It is entirely to do with him. You did not deserve to be under that. You did not deserve to be controlled and twisted like that. In a way, it does not matter that he loved you. His actions show precisely what he was, and what he was…was cruel, and evil, and vile, and I am happy that fucker is dead.”

          Maul’s face broke into a grin, a laugh tickling at the corners of his mouth, and Tiq leaned forward, Maul’s horns pressing to his forehead unthinkingly, gentle, gentle…

          “You never deserved to be under the care of a man who told you that all you were was a body. You never deserved to be brought up by someone who hurt you, and good fucking riddance. Good fucking riddance I hope it hurt, I hope he was awake and aware all the way down, and I hope he knew just how powerless he was. I hope that he knew just how much we all fucking hated him. Because yes, Maul, I do not think there was a Jedi in that Senate that did not hate him. And we hated him for you. And I want you to understand something, yes? We were glad to hate him.”

          “I think I was right,” Maul said softly, “you probably would be a good Sith.”

          Tiq laughed and pulled back, pressing a kiss to his forehead, a gesture that made Maul grin, “Do you really think so? Would I be a good Sith?”

          Maul paused, the grin fading as he stared at him, thinking, and then he finally sighed. “Oh, very well, so I may be indulging in some wishful thinking.”

          Tiq laughed, “There is nothing wrong with that at all,” he assured softly. “I think I’m even flattered.”

          “You should be,” Maul sniffed, “I do not think that many Jedi would make good Sith, or even spend time thinking about it.”

          “Truly?” Tiq asked, grinning. “No one at all? Not even someone like…oh, you teased him enough about it, but Obi-Wan?”

          Maul pulled a face that was so utterly disgusted, so completely unimpressed that Tiq was hard-pressed to not burst out laughing. “Obi-Wan Kenobi would be the most obnoxious Sith in all of history.”

          Tiq failed at holding his laughter in.

          “He would…he would be so aggressively annoying,” Maul said, his mouth squiggling, his eyes narrowing, “he would…by the Force, Tiq, why would you wish that upon me?”

          Tiq laughed harder. “OH,” Tiq wiped his eyes, “that was about as funny a reaction as I had hoped it would be.”

          “Rude,” Maul huffed. “I am going to have nightmares.”

          Tiq lost it. “Oh, Force, regrouping, Maul, please, how do you feel?”

          “Better,” Maul said, and the complete lack of hesitation was so good to hear. “I…” Maul paused. “I…understand that his love was control. That it was bad for me, and it would almost have been the same as if he hated me. But it is…to know that he did love me… Why?”

          “That I do not know,” Tiq said, “but I do know that whatever the reason it would have never been good enough, and so in this instance the why is beyond consideration. Why? Because he could. Because he wanted control more than he wanted your well-being. Because he was perpetually angry and wanted to take it out on someone that relied on him, none of these reasons are good and none of them are ones that you should hold in your hearts as though they are ones you deserve. His meanings and his reasonings are utterly irrelevant outside of this one simple fact, are you ready?”

          “What is it?”

          “He is dead – and your Master will never be able to hurt you again.”

          Maul took that in for a moment, silent, silent, and Tiq was prepared for the moment when he bowed forward slow, and softly, “Tiq…do you have…do we have the footage. Please, please can I…”

          “Yes,” Tiq said, and pulled the player over, fishing through datachips to finally press one into the machine. “We were able to piece together a record of the fight and how it happened. The holocam in the Senate was damaged, but it was still running. We do have the footage. You can see him die.”

          Maul swallowed, shifting to properly see it, but it was not the death that opened it up, instead, Tiq showed him the interrogation.

          Maul could not stop laughing.

          The opening salvo, the first line of a simple ‘Shut up, bitch’ had been enough to send Maul into a near fit of it, doubling over and his hands over his mouth like he was trying to hold it in for dear life, but it escaped anyway.

          As Tiq chipped away at him, insulted his being and his job and his ability to listen… Maul remained scrunched, almost hiding it, but it was audible, and it was visible, “Very good!” the Tiq of the holocam called out, giving a loud and very exaggerated clap, “that is ten points to the Chancellor of the Republic, you are very good at this, aren’t you?”

          “Yes…I am…”

          And Maul finally started howling.

          Tiq paused the footage, let Maul get over his doubled-up pose, to straighten, to rub at his face and regain his composure. “Tiq,” Maul managed his voice choked, tears in his eyes, “Tiq, you cannot do this to me, this is too much.”

          “Your Master is a bitch! It’s not my fault at all.”

          Maul giggled, a sharp and breathless sound, but so full of joy, and Tiq beamed.

          Tiq let Maul take in the fact that it was an accusation of molestation that had finally gotten him to cave and paused it briefly. “It is, Maul, because I realized he did love you, and he would have had some lines in his behavior towards you. I made a guess as to what it was, and I got lucky. But I need you to know…”

          “That his love was poison,” Maul said briefly, “his love was a chain. And I am free from both.”

          “There is no more poison in your veins, and no chains around your neck,” Tiq agreed softly, “you are free. Now I’m going to skip…”

          “Do…do you have the part where you blackmailed Dooku, please? I want…I want to see that, and to see… I need to see…”

          “I will show you his death,” Tiq promised. “You will see him die, and you will know it to be true.”

          Maul huffed quietly, “am I that obvious?”

          “It’s understandable,” Tiq said softly. “We have claimed Sidious dead before, and it took a Holocron that reverted you to a child for us to be made aware of our mistake. I deeply regret that…”

          “It is alright,” Maul said. “I did not…I never once…”

          “That isn’t entirely true,” Tiq said, “do you remember banning Anakin from speaking to him on his own?”

          Maul blinked. “Do you think…that he would…”

          “I think he would have tried,” Tiq said. “Considered among so many Jedi to be the Chosen One to bring Balance to the Force? What would be a more thrilling conquest than turning that against us?”

          Maul took that in quietly, and softly, quietly, “he would have destroyed him.”

          “He would have,” Tiq agreed, “which is why it’s so crucial, and honestly quite so funny that you simply banned him from seeing him… It is a testament to Anakin’s love of you that he listened. It is very hard work getting a teenager to listen. You did it very easily.”

          “I made him promise on his mother,” Maul said.

          “Ah,” Tiq grinned, “that would definitely do it.” Tiq paused. “Still loves you a great deal, though.”

          Maul laughed. “He is like a younger brother…at least what I imagine it would be like… Tiq…” Maul stared at him for a moment, and there was something so amazed and something so soft in his eyes, “Tiq, I am a twin, I have brothers.”

          “You do,” Tiq smiled, “and I am so glad that you were able to meet them. I am so glad that you found each other.”

          Maul said nothing for a moment, almost basking in it, before he finally sighed, “you were going to show me how you eviscerated Dooku?”

          “Eviscerated is a little strong,” Tiq said, laughing.

          “Incorrect,” Maul said, grinning. “Now let me see!”

          Tiq laughed and worked on scrubbing through the fight, delicately avoiding the moment when he got electrocuted, and then finally let it play as Tiq pressed a few buttons on the chair.

          As Maul realized that Tiq had not known that he was about to call Dooku, as he realized that Dooku had habitually called him ‘My Master,’ Maul doubled over, and nearly shrieked with laughter.

          “HIS FACE!” Maul managed, tears sliding down his face as he absolutely lost his shit, “Tiq!!! You didn’t tell me…he outed himself???”

          Tiq laughed, “I was waiting for this moment. It was worth every second.”

          Maul finally settled slowly, watching the rest of the encounter, and as he took in Bail’s expression, he wiped his eyes. “I want to call him; can I call him?”

          “What are you going to do?”

          “Mock him relentlessly,” Maul answered, purring.

          “Maybe when we get him back to the Jedi Temple. He needs to be contained in a proper cell.”

          “Are you going to rehabilitate him like you did with me?” Maul asked, and there was something almost quietly tolerant.

          Tiq was quiet for a moment. “I do not know what we are going to do with him. With you…you were different in a way. The way you were trained…how you were raised…you knew no other way. It was rehabilitation but it was also almost reeducation. Dooku…” Tiq was quiet for a moment. “Dooku should know better. He was about to…I have seen what your Master was planning, Maul. I have…” Tiq’s face tightened. “Dooku was not just complicit with slave labor, he was working on undermining…” Tiq shook his head. “There is a great deal that he has been doing that is absolutely vile, a great many people have died because of his actions, and…” Tiq paused. “It is interesting, I believe, how a person can trick themselves so thoroughly into believing that they are doing the right thing.”

          “I do understand that,” Maul said with a nod and a shrug.

          Tiq smiled at him and opened his arms, Maul allowing himself to sink into the hug. “Thank you for asking if we do plan on rehabilitating,” he said. “Unlike you, Dooku exists and is a Citizen of the Republic, and he is being tried like one. If I have the opportunity I would, but admittedly I don’t know if he would listen to me.”

          “Why is that?” Maul asked.

          “I’m non-human,” Tiq answered with a shrug.

          “Fucker.”

          Tiq laughed. “Indeed,” he agreed.

          “I hope it stung like hell when he realized that I was the one our Master cared for.”

          “I rather do as well,” Tiq agreed. “But that’s vindictive and I will let that go.”

          “I’ll hold onto it for you.”

          “Thank you,” Tiq laughed. “But it is not necessary.”

          “I will do it anyway,” Maul said. “Because I want to hold it over him.”

          “Sith.”

          “Jedi,” Maul returned, and finally laughed. “I have missed you.”

          “I have missed you as well,” Tiq said. “I am so proud of you. I am so proud of you…you have done so much… It is so good to see that you are alive, and you are well.” Maul shifted to hug him tight, and Tiq laughed quietly, “You’re not quite as easy to hold anymore.”

          “I don’t know if I like it,” Maul said, pulling back. “You cannot tell anyone…”

          “Not a soul,” Tiq agreed.

          “I liked my height,” Maul said. “The fact that most people could pick me up…”

          “It’s a good way to alleviate some of the touch starvation,” Tiq nodded.

          “It is that,” Maul agreed, waving a hand almost grandly, “but more importantly it leads to the idea that I am easier to kill, and therefore makes them easier to stab. They pick me up, I merely…” he mimed stabbing at someone under the ribs, and Tiq wheezed, doubling over, and laughing aloud.

          “Maul!”

          “What?” Maul shrugged, “it is true! If I allow you to hold me in such a manner then…” he shrugged. “I care about you a great deal. Touch starvation or…” Maul trailed off.

          Tiq was quiet for a moment. “You worked with Mandalorians and with Hondo’s pirates, yes? As well as Shmi Skywalker?”

          “Yes,” Maul said. “I was…I was not completely alone.”

          “Just mostly,” Tiq said quietly. “Well. That likely may change.”

          “What did you find out, Tiq? What was my Master planning?”

          “First…” Tiq sighed, “First I am going to show you his death, and then I am going to give you what I found.”

          Tiq opened the footage and allowed Maul to take it in, watching the way Obi-Wan provided such a good distraction from the actual threat of Savage. Maul took the holoprojector from Tiq, replaying the footage, watching as his Master was impaled again…and again…and again…

          And finally put it down and shoved it away from him.

          “Tiq…” he breathed, “my Master is dead…”

          “Yes,” Tiq agreed quietly, “he is dead.”

          Maul paused for a moment, so still… And then, quietly, Maul began to laugh.

          It was a desperate broken little sound, hitched and broken, slowly shifting to something louder, fuller, and finally outright hysterical. It was a shattered, utterly desperate sort of laugh, Tiq waiting, watching, and when that hitched and pained sounding laugh became the start of hitched and pained sobs, Tiq was ready, and opened his arms. Maul folded himself close and wept, and there was such anger in the sound, such… “I hate him, Tiq,” Maul breathed.

          “I know,” Tiq said softly. “I know, it’s alright. You can mourn. It is alright to mourn. It is not fair, and it is not right. You are allowed to mourn.” Tiq held him until he finally ran out of tears and pushed himself back, wiping at his eyes… Tiq caught hold of his hands, squeezing. “Gentle,” Tiq said softly, “there is no reason to make yourself hurt. You are allowed to be kind to yourself, even for something like this. Grief is complicated.”

          “Grief is awful, and I hate it,” Maul grumbled.

          “Understandable,” Tiq said. “But still…be kind.”

          “What did you have for me, Tiq,” Maul said softly.

          Tiq paused for a moment and finally sighed. “Reach for my mind, Maul, feel.”

          Maul narrowed his eyes, and Tiq felt the soft tickling heat of Maul’s Force-presence reaching out for him. Tiq reached out slowly and offered the memories that he had stored. Maul’s presence flickered near them, before it flared in realization and wonder, and Tiq felt the way he brushed against them, and softly, softly… “Tiq…what is that?”

          “Those are your memories,” Tiq answered softly. “Your Master did not just cut them out he kept them. These…I have not looked at them, Maul, but I can feel them, and they are sound.  Your Master kept them, and I think…eventually he was going to give them back. But now…I am.”

          Maul blinked, “can…can you do that?” he breathed, “is it possible, can you…is my mind not too…?”

          “It is not too broken,” Tiq said, “nor is it too scarred over. The brain has a natural elasticity, and in this instance it wants to be whole. I believe…that should we work together, they should be accepted.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment, and softly, quietly, “please.”

          Tiq tilted his forehead towards Maul, feeling the horns press up against him, closed his eyes, and took a breath, feeling Maul do the same…and slowly.

          Steadily…

          Breathed out…

          And plunged into a mind that he knew.

          Maul pulled back with a gasp, standing, his body reeling, staggering away from Tiq and finally falling to his knees.

          “Maul, can I touch you?” Tiq asked, his voice soft, and Maul braced his hands against the ground, breathing, breathing, feeling like he wanted to throw up. There was so much…as so much was flowed into him, as his memories…

          As that dark pillar was given a face.

          As he stared up at Palpatine.

          And thought of him as father.

          Maul vomited into a wastebasket that hadn’t been there, shaking, his body heaving as he emptied everything in his stomach.

          It had been Palpatine, it was him, all of it was him, and then the wastebasket was moving and Tiq was closer, gently hushing, still not touching, still not…

          “Please,” Maul managed softly, and Tiq pulled him close, settled his head on his lap, let him sprawl out, ran a hand up and down up and down his arm…

          “It’s alright,” Tiq breathed, “it is alright.”

          “I loved him once,” Maul breathed. “I loved him. He raised me. I knew him from…my earliest memories…if only as a presence that… Tiq… Please…I don’t want…I don’t want to think of this anymore. I don’t want…”

          “Hush,” Tiq said softly, “you know that is not true.”

          “There is so much…” Maul managed, his voice trembling, “Tiq…”

          “A lifetime, right up until seventeen,” Tiq said. “It is alright. Let yourself settle, I’m right here, grab on.”

          And Maul reached, clinging tight to Tiq’s Force-presence, allowing himself to sink into the Jedi’s peaceful aura, letting it calm him, slowly allowing his mind to trail down paths and links that it had not been able to make in so…long…

          Tiq remained stable and cool, and Maul slowly let himself bask in it, letting his mind settle, flow the anxiety, the hurt, the… There was so much hurt…so much hurt… And it framed…all of those conversations, those moments…

          “Tiq…” Maul breathed, “he wanted me back…”

          “I do think so,” Tiq said, and the hand on his arm was protective, and the presence he basked in was warm, and so welcoming, “but he did not get you. And he will not. You are not his. You are not ours. You are yours. Your chains are broken, Sith. You are free.”

          Maul took that in, closing his eyes and breathing it close.

          Maul was free.

          He was free.

          “Thank you,” he breathed.

          “Of course,” Tiq said. “How are you feeling, Maul? Do you want a spar?”

          “I could use a distraction,” Maul said, and slowly began to push himself up.

          “Excellent,” Tiq said, “because I think that someone…”

          The door to the training room burst open, Obi-Wan marching forward holding…

          Maul was on his feet and as the pike that had been his weapon and his companion for so long flew through the air he reached out…and caught it.

          And let the red blade THRUM into existence, heat and death and warmth in his hand.

          “Aw shit,” Maul cussed, placing it next to him and taking in where the blade length rested on him. “It’s too short.”

          “That is a bit of a challenge,” Obi-Wan hummed, “but I’m certain it’s nothing you can’t overcome?”

          “Fifteen words to tell me to simply spar anyway, Kenobi,” Maul sniffed, eyeing him. “And yet you call me verbose~”

          Obi-Wan gave a regal shrug before pulling his saber from his belt, twirling it into his favored Soresu, and Maul could see the initial twirl had allowed him to readjust the power on it. It would scald, but not kill.

          Maul hummed, “A moment.”

          Obi-Wan gestured for it, remaining in his ready stance.

          Maul smiled.

          And then twirled the pike, his eyes closed, feeling the weapon, feeling the way it wanted to rest on him, learning where it pressed against his limbs, feeling the brief flashes of heat as it grew too close and adjusting it with the slightest of movements. Familiarity bloomed, and when he finally knew where it would fall, when he knew that he would not hurt himself as well as his enemy, he fell into his own opening stance, pointed at Kenobi, checking the balance to make sure, and casually readjusted the power in his own.

          It was truly only sporting.

          “Very flashy,” Obi-Wan hummed. “But have you ever fought anyone with an actual saber?”

          Maul grinned, baring all of his teeth, and let the low hum of his Force presence darken and darken, and BURN. “No,” he answered, almost purring, “and so I thank you for the opportunity, Kenobi~”

          Maul was aware of the others that were coming in, could see the way Tiq had gone to join Plo at the far end of the room, could see the Nightbrothers as they sat on either side of his brothers, and could see the utter curiosity burning in Ahsoka and Anakin.

          “You know I live to serve,” Obi-Wan said, flicking his saber, and finally, Maul flicked his saber into a guard, and launched himself forward – the pike leading.

          Obi-Wan pulled back, knocking the pike blade up into the air with his saber, only for Maul to catch it and spin it back, sending the butt of the weapon towards his chin. Obi-Wan leaned back, flicked his saber across and sent it to the side, and Maul pulled back, spinning it around with a flourish and as Obi-Wan went to block he twisted the mechanism that kept it solid and instead granted it added flexibility, the interlocking parts gaining just enough gap to grant just enough wiggle without threatening structural collapse, and best yet would allow it to still weather any need to block.

          It was one of the Armourer’s proudest achievements.

          “Oh, that’s not good…” Obi-Wan managed when Maul lowered it to eye-level, a grin on his face.

          “It might be smart to run~?”

          “Might,” Obi-Wan agreed, and then launched himself forward.

          Maul laughed aloud as he brought the butt of the weapon once again into play, forcing Obi-Wan back, and following up with a low sweep that threatened his ankles, the Jedi leaping up and still back. And then Maul twisted the weapon around so the pike was threatening and humming, allowed Obi-Wan the moment to realize it was pointing directly between his eyes, and then began a series of short sharp stabs towards him, always pressing forward, always at different angles, that added flexibility giving the pike an almost unpredictable amount of devastation.

          It was hard to tell where it was aiming, and as Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and began working on blocking and parrying, Maul grinned wider and wider.

          Maul twisted the mechanism to solidify it, spinning around with the butt of the weapon and managing a direct hit to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, causing him to stumble back, and as Maul swung the pike back around Obi-Wan launched himself forward. Maul grinned and rolled backwards, gaining distance. Obi-Wan spun his saber around, working on attacking while Maul’s focus was on retreating, and Maul finally launched himself up in the air, the lightsaber pike deactivating as he landed to balance upon it, a grin splitting his face.

          Obi-Wan blinked up at him.

          Maul took a breath, and with an internal laugh, channeled the Force in a scream of power that took the form of a single solitary word –

          “KENNOOOOOBIIIIII!!!!!!”

          “Oh, that’s not good,” Obi-Wan managed and he turned on his heel and ran.

          Maul twisted the mechanism, launched himself forward with his weapon rattling a terrible facsimile of a death rattle, and Obi-Wan managed a single hard block, but the pike went back around, hit the Jedi’s hand, and sent the lightsaber flying, that pike swinging back once again to point directly at the Jedi’s neck, that mechanism twisted yet again to stabilize it. There was no true point in burning him.

          “Well,” Obi-Wan managed. “That was…frightening.”

          Maul tilted his head. “Yield?”

          “Now,” Obi-Wan paused. “I could…” Maul leapt up and spun over the saber that had been aiming at his back, catching hold of the hilt with a boldness he never would have used if he had not known that it was still set low and therefore would not cut off his hand should he miss. As it was, it was a perfect catch, and Maul aimed the blue sword at its owner’s throat. “Oh, well, that was rather impressive. Yield, yes, I think that sounds like a good idea.”

          “Thank you.” He deactivated the saber and tossed it towards its owner, Obi-Wan catching it and hilting it. Maul deactivated his own pike, grinning. When Obi-Wan went in for a hug Maul initially blinked, feeling it close around him with a momentary start, before allowing himself to hug back.

          “Don’t ever yell my name like that again.”

          Maul laughed aloud and tightened his grip, hitting his back hard once. “I’ll consider it.”

          Obi-Wan pulled back and rolled his eyes at him, laughing himself. But it was good. Maul had needed something like this.

          “Well done,” a voice said that Maul had not been expecting, and he turned to find the one who had made the weapon standing there, as well as a medley of Death Watch that also included Soln. The Armourer approached, and Maul hesitated before approaching as well and holding out the weapon. She took it from him, held it in her hands, and then looked to him, her helmet cocked slightly as she took him in. “You did not grow in the way that I expected.”

          “I don’t know that it was expected by anyone,” Obi-Wan said, taking a step forward. “Hello, are you the one that made that weapon?”

          “I am,” she returned, “I am the Armourer. You fight well…for a Jedi.”

          “I will of course take that as the highest compliment,” Obi-Wan smiled. The Armourer tilted her head to him in a gesture of amusement, and Maul knew that he had managed to get in her good graces.

          “I will reforge your armor and the saber,” she said to Maul. “You will have need of them soon.”

          “Thank you,” Maul said, putting his fist over his chest and offering her a low bow. She returned it with a dip of her head and walked away, Soln approaching. “What brings you here?”

          “We were told you have a problem with some Mandalorians,” he grinned. “We are here to help reclaim them.”

          “Ah,” Maul said. “Fill me in.”

_

          Maul stood on the deck of a ship, staring out over the waters of Kamino.

          Maul had listened while Soln had spoken, listened as the Jedi filled further gaps. But as they spoke, Maul had remembered.

          Darth Sidious had never told him the entirety of the plan, but there were echoes, things that Maul remembered. A plot to destroy the Jedi. A plot to use the Senate they loved so much against them. It had made Maul want to laugh.

          There was a brilliance within it that was frightening, not the least because a part of Maul could admit that he admired it. It was a brilliant plan.

          His Master had always been brilliant.

          But now Maul stood overlooking what was meant to be his Master’s crowning achievement, and the knowledge that it would never be used against the Jedi… It would never be used against his family, or the Galaxy that they loved.

          Maul wondered if they realized how much they loved it. He wondered if this would have been what made them realize it just as it was stripped from them.

          The Separatists had been weeded out, cut from Dooku they had fizzled, and ultimately there was nothing to unite them. There was to be no war…

          And so, an army that had been created needed to be dissolved.

          And millions of men needed to be helped to find purpose beyond a war that would never happen.

          The Jedi’s entire Mind Healer force had been pulled from all corners, after they had managed to find replacements, of course, and were currently being debriefed by Tiq. Maul himself had helped in some of the debriefing.

          Yoda was currently on Kamino and had been making observations, talking to the Clones that were there. The knowledge that they were dealing with men that in some ways were a bit like Maul had been.

          Men fashioned into Weapons.

          Beings that had no concept of themselves as anything but tools of destruction.

          Maul was not sure if he was ready to see them. What Maul had not expected was for the way the Brothers understood. And not just Feral and Savage, but also Venom, Spite, Grudge, and Wrath. Yet…in a way he supposed he should have.

          What were they for?

          What were they for…

          But in the end they stood with him, and their presence was a balm in a way Maul did not know how to reach for. They often included him regardless, and he had learned slowly of the ways that a Brother asked for another’s presence.

          Tiq had also been with them, a constant presence, talking, gentle, as well as a consistent reminder that they did not have to see them yet. Maul could take his time. They all could. They would do what needed to be done.

          Tiq had laughed just about as hard as Maul when the Nightbrothers had looked at him.

          “Always remember you can take a step back,” Tiq had said, and they had promised to remember.

          He knew they intended to keep that promise.

          But for now, Maul was going to see what could be done.

          They came in for a landing, and Maul continued watching.

          As the rest disembarked Maul waited.

          He was unsurprised when the Armourer finally found him, and he turned to her.

          “It is finished,” she said. “The second iteration of my greatest creation. You will wield it well.”

          “I will,” Maul agreed, and followed her to where his armor waited.

          He took the pike in hand and finally left himself, clad in the armor of the Mandalorians that had been his own. Influenced by the aesthetics of the Sith. Influenced by his own.

          Maul kept his distance, his presence small, unnoticeable as he walked amongst them, and watched. His Brothers had approached, had walked to them with an intimate knowledge that Maul could not quite match. His own childhood had been spent in loneliness, in solitude, his own training wrapped around the fact that there was only himself… And the reflection he saw in glass. And the more that he saw the more he felt as though he was staring at an imitation, at a broken and shattered mirror that showed him so much of what had been…and ultimately what he no longer was.

          Maul stood in a transparisteel tunnel and stared out at a sea of men that moved in unison, trained in unison, that awkwardly attempted to talk to the Jedi that had spread amongst them, that had no idea how to integrate with them, even as he could see the way they longed to…

          The Mandalorians had spread, the splinter of Death Watch that Maul had stumbled upon when destroying the mines of Zygerria…and those were the ones that were ultimately the most gravitated to. Outside of course, of the Brothers…the Brothers that were gaining a following that was growing.

          Soln had been called for good reason and Maul wondered quietly whether or not this would be something they latched onto. Perhaps Death Watch would grow. Maybe they would finally be enough to destroy the group led by Pre Vizsla.

          Maul would not mind. From what he recalled Jango was considered a member of the True Mandalorians, but as Maul looked out at the men that clearly had no understanding of existence outside of battle…outside of fight…outside of being a weapon… He could not believe that Jango had remained a part of that faction.

          And the more he looked…the angrier Maul grew.

          There were children.

          More in pods waiting to be decanted.

          All of them had been meant for war.

          And a single man had agreed to it. A single man had seen fit to take these children, take these beings, and enslave them to war, and act as though they did not matter.

           Weapons.

          Maul was looking out at an army of weapons.

          It was something he recognized implicitly.

          Jango had been gone, a job he had been on taking him away, and it was during that time that they had begun their work, but Maul had little doubt that he would not be gone for long.

          Maul had avoided all Kaminoans, watching from above the way they interacted with the ones that had been under their care and known that he would be unable to keep the hate down.

          It was all too raw.

          Maul did not know what he would do.

          But Maul would find out.

          For now, he would watch, and as he watched Maul found himself so thankful for Tiq and his Group. Maul was so thankful for the Mandalorians he had found and their utter insistence that he come with them.

          It was strange to think that this had been the splinter faction that Meltch Krakko had belonged to.

          It was strange to think that he may have grown up amongst them if…

          But his Master had still been alive.

          It was likely that all Maul would have done would be invite death.

          Yet now…Maul’s Master was dead.

          Now…all of their chains were broken.

          It was simply a matter of getting them to see that.

          Maul took a breath and finally decided to move amongst them.

          His distance was no longer helping. Maul allowed his iron control of his presence slip, and began walking down to meet the rest of the men.

_

          Tiq was surrounded by an ocean of numbers.

          He was thankful for much, but the fact that numbers had always been easy for him to remember was in the top tier. It would be an awful thing to forget or to butcher when their batch numbers was literally all that these men had to their person. At least…until they either decided they wanted a name or decided that their number would fit for a name.

          Either one was acceptable, at this point it was closer to discovering another race than it was being amidst Clones of one man. If their naming practices involved a great deal of numbers then it deserved to be respected. And then Tiq’s attention was pulled to the Brothers, and he found himself smiling.

          “So…” one of the men was saying, CC-3636, if Tiq wasn’t mistaken, it was in the Aura – this one’s crackled, “you…you’re Venom, and you’re Feral, you’re Spite, and Wrath, and Grudge, and…you’re Savage?”

          “Yes,” Savage answered, grinning, “and he is Maul,” Savage nodded towards…

          Oh.

          Well.

          Tiq rather thought he understood how that could be terrifying.

          Maul had always been soundless, but to manage that with a suit of armor was a particularly intense sort of task. That black armor with its crown of horns that were so much larger than Maul’s own, the face that slowly came into view as he stopped before them and tilted his head slightly to look at them… And also offered a horn-lock, one that was immediately taken up by Feral, who hooked tight and grinned.

          “It’s not quite the same, they’re a good deal less…living, but I have to say I do like them,” Feral said, taking a step back and reaching up to touch the tips. “How many have you killed like this?”

          “Enough,” Maul answered and the grin in his voice was sharp.

       ��  The Brothers laughed, a warm thing, amused, and there was a certain delight in the sound.

          Tiq felt the desire to roll his eyes, but there was no denying the way the men around them were reacting. There was a kinship there that they seemed to not have expected.

          And how could they have…but now that it was there, Tiq could see the beginnings of interest.

          “You can name yourselves things like that?” CC-1993 asked.

          “Why would you not be able to?” Venom asked. “Though admittedly most of us were named by our older Brothers.”

          “Oh, does that…does that mean you need to be blood to name another?”

          “Oh, apologies,” Venom said. “While it is true that we four are blood, and they are blood,” he indicated Maul and Savage and Feral, “Brothers is nonetheless what we call ourselves. We are Nightbrothers, even without Blood, we are connected in battle and in soul.”

          There was a slow building interest, and Tiq found himself smiling.

          This was an unlooked for, but certainly helpful line of familiarity.

          This was something that could be used to help.

          They had already started to shift from the way they stood together, the slow relaxing of shoulders, the movement to start to copy postures. They were also all very interested in the Brother’s tattoos. As they explained, the Brothers smiling as they indicated them and what they meant… The Mandalorians had also approached, and together they were pulling a crowd.

          There were younger ones approaching then, recently decanted, and the Brothers welcomed them with an ease that seemed to win the men over more…

          The sound of a ship passing by overhead drew Tiq’s attention, and he was aware then too of Maul.

          Maul who focused on the man that was coming in through the door dressed in full Mandalorian armor of his own, and as he approached, drew his pike, and then Maul’s voice cracked out, “Demagolka! Aruetyc hut’uun! Naast be ade! Aruetii ti aliit bal manda… Gar buir duraa.”

          Tiq felt his eyes widen. Well.

          That was one way to start a fight.

          Jango launched himself forward, a roar of anger and pain, and Maul met him. It was an almost wretchedly one sided fight.

          Jango was skilled, there was no doubt, and similarly no doubt that Mandalorians were warriors born… But so, too, were Nightbrothers.

          And Maul was not playing fair.

          Jango used whatever weapon he could think of, but if they ever threatened the crowd that was still watching a Jedi was able to send it back…but more importantly, Maul was willing always to use the Force, to rip Jango from his feet and throw him across the room, to send the flames that Jango sent at him back at his own face with a single palm raised up. And when Maul had finally tackled Jango to the ground, had finally knocked his helmet away and brought a single blade to his throat, that was when Maul finally tore off his own helmet and began to speak.

          “You call yourself a True Mandalorian, Jango?” Maul purred. “You call yourself someone your father would be proud of? Knowing that you call yourself a Mandalorian while you disobey the first basic tenant, while you allow yourself to become demagolka and destroy your manda and theirs? Why?”

          “They aren’t people,” Jango hissed. “They’re nothing…”

          The sound of a harsh and rasped gasp brought Tiq’s attention to a little boy, one that had… Oh.

          Tiq had heard of…

          “Filth,” Maul hissed. “Your vengeance has blinded you to everything…even the needs of the one you called son. Tell me, Jango? How can you possibly know that you are worthy of existence, worthy of love…when every single being bearing your face, bearing your soul is also worthy of extermination? How can you elevate one to a son, when you do not even see them as human?”

          And Jango was staring at his boy. Jango was staring at the child who had frozen, who stared into his eyes, “Boba…” Jango breathed, and that was when Boba turned and ran.

          Tiq kept track of the boy with the promise that he would check on him later. He had a feeling the boy needed time…

          Jango fought against Maul then, struggled to get out of his grip, but Maul was Zabrak. Maul had twice the muscle density and wound up pinning Jango on his front, that knife at his ear. “Stop,” Maul commanded softly. “Just stop. You have lost. You are just a man, Jango. You are just a man…”

          And Tiq could see the way the other men had straightened, could see… And he found a slow smile pulling at his mouth. And he understood what Maul had decided needed to be done.

          Maul had shown them that their tormentor was mortal. Maul had shown them that he could be beaten.

          And softly, quietly, “Jango…why would you attempt to get revenge on the people that only reacted to your orders? Why would you get revenge against them when you shot first and you know that by right their actions were just?”

          Jango said nothing.

          “Would you like to help us kill Pre Vizsla?”

          Jango blinked. “What?”

          “You killed Tor Vizsla, that much is true, but you have not killed all that remains of him. There have been others that have followed in his footsteps, have taken Death Watch in his image. Would you like to destroy them?” Maul asked. “Would you like to regain your honor? Would you like to avenge your father?”

          Jango paused, and then slowly looked up at him. “But Death Watch…?”

          Soln laughed quietly and stepped forward, crouching down alongside him. “We are Death Watch. Or rather…Death Watch as it should have been. Before Tor twisted us. Pre Vizsla has further corrupted what we stood for. Destroyed the honor that it once possessed, stripped the non-humans from its ranks, and has the gall to call himself Mandalorian by the rule of a sword he did not win. His father may have won it. It may run in his family…but it was not won by him.”

          “We are going to kill him and destroy the rest,” Maul said pleasantly, “and we are offering you the opportunity to make up for what you have done. There will be no war, Jango. The Jedi will not fall. But you can still have your revenge. A more…ultimate revenge.”

          Jango paused, and then tapped the floor twice. Maul let him up.

          “Who are you?” Jango asked softly, looking to him.

          “I am Maul,” he answered. “If you continue to test me you may find out why.” Maul grinned with all of his teeth, and Tiq heard the soft ripple of laughter that spread, the shock slowly dissipating.

          And then Maul stalked away, leaving Jango with Soln, who put his arm on Jango’s shoulder and also led him away.

          Tiq left to find Boba…and eventually found him with Maul.

          Tiq listened for a moment, took in the soft words, and gave the slightest of nods.

          For now…for now Boba would be alright. Upon turning, Tiq found a blond-haired man standing, and as he saluted Tiq smiled, “he’s just ahead. Maul is with him.”

          “Thank you,” he said. “I…thank you.”

          “There is no need,” Tiq said. “We are happy to bring you to freedom. It will be a hard road, but it is one you can learn to walk.”

          The man nodded stiffly, and looked beyond him, “can I…can I talk to them?”

          “Of course,” Tiq said softly, “I dare say Maul would even welcome your presence, and whatever help you can give…”

          “He’s still…” the man paused, and then softly, “he’s still my brother.”

          “He is,” Tiq agreed, “go.”

          “Thank you.”

          He slipped away and Tiq wished briefly that he had remembered to ask for what the man’s number was. Tiq hoped that he would be able to help Boba.  

          Tiq entered the main room once again to find the men buzzing. There was an energy and a spark in the air that had not been there before. He also saw more than just the one man going to find Maul.

          Tiq could not help but grin.

          Seemed Maul had broken more chains than he was perhaps expecting, and in its placed…forged a few rings. Perhaps more than a few.

          It was a good thing.

_

          Maul sat quietly, kneeling in the dark. The Armourer sat before him, her hands on her knees, silent.

          It felt like ages since the last time he had done this. A lifetime ago, and in a way it was. His Brothers were free…

          Maul had done it.

          All of the work…all of the sacrifices, all Maul had done… They had done it. The Brothers were free. And now they had freed the Vode. The Vode who had been fed the Liquor of the Sands, had come to their own freedom with their help, the Brothers standing as ally and friend, and slowly integrating.

          They had taken names, tattoos, and shared similarly Mandalorian customs, as well as their own culture that they had assembled in the hell of Kamino.

          Maul was proud, and he knew that he was not the only one, the Jedi a constant presence that had worked so hard… And then there was Shmi. Shmi and her family of White Suns. They had worked to be someone to gravitate to when the Brothers or the Vode felt lost. The Galaxy was big, and they were many, but they were relatively young in the Galaxy. There was so much to learn.

          But the Senate had been a big help as well, Padmé and Bail leading the work to allow them citizenship, to allow the Vode and the Brothers into the Republic.

          Bail had been promoted as Chancellor.

          Maul had voted for Padmé.

          Maul had almost forgiven Bail for winning.

          It had been over a year of constant work, of shaping the Galaxy around them, of learning their place and spreading out.

          But now they had come back.

          They had one last order of business.

          Death Watch needed to be unified.

          The Mandalorians must rebuild.

          And so, the Armourer had come to him…and Maul had no idea why.

           “Why…have you asked me here?” Maul asked.

          “We are going to kill Pre Vizsla,” the Armourer responded.

          “Of course, you are,” Maul said. “That has been a goal of Death Watch since I freed you from bondage…but what does this have to do with me?”

          “Vizsla has the Darksaber,” the Armourer answered. “He has the power to unify the masses under that banner which means whoever kills him has won it. They have won Mandalore.”

          “Mandalore is ruled by a Duchess,” Maul returned. “A Duchess that does not share in the beliefs of those that follow the Saber.”

          “But for those that do, they are the only ones fit to rule,” the Armourer returned. “And it is possible that these ones may…overthrow others…”

          “You wish to oppose Duchess Satine?” Maul asked, raising an eyebrow. “An interesting proposal. What do you plan to do when she asks the Jedi for aid? Would you turn against them?”

          “We do not need to directly oppose her,” the Armourer denied. “We Watch for Death, Maul, but that does not mean we are always the cause of it. I do not know that we would have to oppose her in direct confrontation, but there are those that may seek the Saber.”

          “Then you must think well of who you wish to wield it,” Maul answered. “The battle is to keep your head as well as the Saber, I would expect.”

          “It is,” she said. “Which is why I am asking you to fight for it.”

          Maul blinked.

          “What?”

          “Maul,” she said, and her voice was more patient than he expected she wanted it to be. “You are Sith, but you are also ours. You are Death Watch. You have more right to the saber than some could even dream, and you are also one of the most powerful beings in the Galaxy. But you are also loved by many. If you took the saber there may be some that might wish to challenge you…but they would have to get through many others to do so.”

          “And who, precisely,” Maul began, contempt lacing his voice, a skeptical hiss, “would fight for me?””

          Maul whirled to face the crash behind him, startled to find not just… It was not just Death Watch that had come. It was the Vode…it was the Brothers…as well as his brothers. Feral and Savage stood there, grinning.

          “We would have you as Mand’alor…”

          And it was Soln that spoke, Soln that stepped forward, the one that had been leading Death Watch since Maul had freed it.

          Maul stood slowly, turning to face them, to look at them all…

          And blinked at the presence of Jango.

           Jango stood staring off into the distance, his arms crossed over his chest, defiance in his posture…but as Maul approached he straightened, meeting his gaze evenly.

          Jango had been talking to Tiq, Maul was aware, but the complexities eluded him. In a way, Maul had not cared. He knew that Boba was safe, was with someone who loved him for his own sake and that had been enough.

          It was one of the reasons Maul had not gone through with his proposal to Padmé to take Bail out, the knowledge that Boba had been given to Bail and Breha and was doing very well. Much better than Maul believed he had ever been with a father that had seen him more of an experiment to how he would have turned out. A child that was not loved for their own sake was rarely a happy child, and Boba had deserved better…just as the rest of the vode had.

          But now here Jango was, and the realization of what it meant…

          “You would have me for Mand’alor,” Maul said, staring at him.

          Jango said nothing for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “I would see you as Mand’alor. We have too long been divided…and I know that you have united more than just Death Watch to your name. The Armourer is right…you are the right choice.” Jango paused. “You also saw to it that Boba…that Boba was taken care of. I know you were one of the first to help him, and I…” he paused. “I am grateful.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment. “Have you asked for visitation rights?”

          “I do not know that Boba would want to see me,” Jango returned.

          “Try,” Maul said. “I will vouch for you.”

          “Why?”

          “Because that is the first I have heard that you actively considered Boba for his own sake. Because I can see that you miss him.”

          Jango said nothing.

          But Maul could see the slight smile on his face…and he could feel the contented excitement in his aura.

          It was a step…and it was a very good one.

          But now Maul still had the choice. Now Maul had to stand with the weight of the fact that they had asked him to rule.

          “I had planned…on rebuilding the Sith,” Maul said. “I joined your Death Watch in honor of a father I lost. I follow your tenants, but at the core of me I am Sith.”

          “The Mandalorians and the Sith have worked together before,” the Armourer said.

          “And the Sith need a people and protection while you are growing,” Soln said, stepping forward. “You need not split yourself in two. And you do not need to rule without help.”

          Maul took this in for a moment. “You want me as a figurehead.”

          The laugh was soft, and Soln put his arm around him, “This is not about use, Maul. We do not wish to use you. We wish to help you. Advise you. You would not be a puppet without power. I don’t know that we could do that to you to begin with.”

          “You could not,” Maul said. “I would not take it well.”

          “Thought not,” Soln grinned.

          Maul took in the offer, looked at the ones standing there, the Brothers he had thought to invite, to try… And thought of what it would mean. He would be giving a true unification to his people and the Vode, given the opportunity to unify Death Watch with a people that still needed a home, to create a world where they were home.

          And he would not have to do it alone.

          “Very well,” Maul said softly. “I shall be your Mand’alor.”

_

          “Jango.”

          The call of his name was enough to bring Jango’s attention back, finding Maul standing there.

          The Zabrak had changed into his armor, outside of the helmet which he was resting on his hip, the horns that covered his own, weapons in themselves, but he knew it was not all the Nightbrother had.

          “Maul,” he returned easily, as Maul stepped up next to him. “What is it?”

          “Will you be my Second?” Maul asked, turning to meet his gaze.

          Jango blinked. It was an unexpected question. Jango had initially thought that Maul would have gone with Soln, or perhaps one of his own brothers. There were many that would have jumped at the chance to watch Maul’s back…and yet he had gone to Jango.

          “Why?”

          Maul sighed. “I have no ulterior motive, Jango,” he said. “I merely asked you ages ago if you would like to be the one to claim revenge. I intend to give it to you, and while you cannot be the one to kill him…I would nonetheless trust you with my back.”

          Jango took that in for a moment, staring at a man who he realized was giving him the opportunity for everything that he had wanted…that was doing his best to give him what was promised. Jango didn’t even mind that it was late, it had needed to be. There had been so much that had needed to be done. So much that had needed to be done to fix Jango’s mistakes.

          “I will be your second,” Jango said. “I will watch your back. Though you must promise that this fight is fair. You cannot use that darjetii osik, Maul. If you fight him in a way that he cannot match then you will lose – not just honor but face. They will challenge you.”

          “You don’t have to worry about that, Jango,” Maul said. “I intend to fight him fair. I have no doubts in my ability to kill him without the Force.”

          “So, you’ll give him what you didn’t give me?” Jango asked, the slightest of smiles on his mouth.

          Maul eyed him like he had said something incredibly stupid.

          “It was not about fighting you fair,” Maul said, “it was about proving that you could be beaten. That you were not the most powerful thing that those men had ever seen…and you were more mortal and breakable than they thought. It was about showing you were a man, Jango, and not some monster that was unbeatable.” Maul paused. “That’s my job.”

          Jango laughed aloud, unable to help it, taking in the flashing fangs in the other man’s smile, the slit of his eyes and grinning, even as he felt that twist in his chest. “I don’t know that it worked. They love you, and I am grateful for it. You were right to do it,” Jango said finally. “And you were right to challenge me. I did abandon everything. I did allow my need for revenge to destroy my principles… I did…shame my father.”

          “Grief does strange things,” Maul said, staring out at the starscape, his gaze distant, and it brought his profile into sharper view.

          Jango looked at him, taking him in in a way he had not before…and found that he was young.

          “How old are you?” Jango asked.

          “Twenty-six,” Maul said without hesitation, apparently without thought, “I had thought twenty-seven, but I was informed that our gambling with my age had proven incorrect.”

          Jango stared at him. “You do not want to be the Mand’alor,” he said softly.

          “I am willing,” Maul said. “There is much that I can do with that position that I have wanted to do.” He paused. “But no. No. I do not know how well I will lead these people… You claim that there are those that would advise me, but I am…” Maul spread his hands. “No one has claimed their position. I do not know if they are waiting for me to prove victorious…”

          “I would,” Jango said, looking at him. “I have not…I do not have a good track record when it comes to my decisions. If I had not chosen to shoot first…if I had merely attempted to talk to the Jedi then it is possible…” Jango said nothing for a long moment. “Healer Tiq would be proud of me. I don’t know that I have said that without growing angry before…without trying to deny it…”

          “Healer Tiq is frequently proud of all of us, I believe,” Maul said softly.

          “I was young,” Jango said. “I recognize that now.”

          “I am young,” Maul returned.

          “You are. And a better man than I was.”

          Maul laughed, bitter, almost scoffing. “I have been given opportunities and I have played them,” he said softly.

          “We all deal the hand that we are dealt,” Jango agreed. “I am older now. And wiser…if you would seek what I have…”

          “I would take it,” Maul said. “I would also…so long as it was not a challenge for the Darksaber…be willing to indulge you in a fair spar?”

          Jango grinned and clapped the man on his shoulder. “I would be honored. And do not worry, Mand’alor. I know where my loyalties lie. Now tell me, how do you intend to counter the saber? Your pike may be considered an unfair advantage, as would your double-bladed weapon.”

          “Do not worry,” Maul said. He paused then. “Would you like to meet the man who originally offered to be my Second?”

          “You turned him down?” Jango asked.

          “I made a promise,” Maul said with a slight shrug. “I intended to keep it. I agreed to accept his weapon, though. He was willing to agree to that.”

          “Oh?” Jango asked, following Maul as he headed out into the ship. Jango walked beside him, watching the man in his peripheral vision as he greeted the people he passed with a nod, or a gesture.

          “Yes,” Maul said finally, looking to him out of the corner of his eye. “He was my Teacher. I attempted to be a Jedi for a time.”

          “Did you,” Jango said softly, a brow rising.

          “Didn’t take,” Maul said, a smile pulling at his mouth. “I am too angry.”

          Jango laughed, surprised.

          He paused for a moment and then briefly, quietly, “You were wrong, though.”

          “About?” Maul asked.

          “I always did love my son. But it was in that one instant that I…” Jango paused. “You made me recognize that I had been hurting him. In a way that I…” he trailed off. “I wanted to thank you for that. And for…for following up and fighting to allow me visitation. He is happy.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment.

          “I am sorry, Jango,” Maul said. “I did not want to keep you from your son forever.”

          “I know.” Jango paused. “They do not think that it has to be forever. But there is much I have done without…knowing.”

          “It is hard,” Maul said.

          “It is.”

          And then they finally turned the corner into a meditation room…and there sat a tall dark-skinned man, his eyes closed, meditating silently. It was a Jedi, which he had suspected, but one with a sterner expression and heavier countenance than Jango had anticipated.

          “Teacher,” Maul said, and the man looked up, and Jango watched as his expression softened.

          The man stood smoothly, approaching, and his attention turned to Jango.

          “This is Jango Fett,” Maul said. “Jango Fett, this is Mace Windu. He was my Teacher, as I said.” Jango inclined his head to the other man, something that was returned. “He is the one that I have promised as my Second. He has agreed.”

          Mace Windu took that in for a moment and then nodded, looking to Jango directly. Brown eyes met his and their gaze was fixed and stern. “Take care of him.”

          “You have my word,” Jango said, putting a hand to his chest. He knew a worried buir when he saw one. Jango understood. “I plan to see to it that he only has to focus on the fight before him.”

          “Good,” Mace said, and his expression pulled into a smile, “thank you.” He paused and then turned to Maul. “Would you like to take it now or later?”

          “When are you comfortable parting with it?” Maul asked.

          “I am comfortable with you growing familiar with it,” Mace returned.

          “Then I shall take it now,” Maul said, and Jango watched as Mace pulled the lightsaber from his belt and held it out to Maul.

          Maul took it carefully before igniting the blade, and purple streamed out.

          It was a beautiful weapon.

          Jango nodded.

          “That’ll do.”

          “Indeed,” Maul said softly.

_

          Feral stood alongside his twin, Savage framing his other side, and Jango at Maul’s back.

          Feral understood why he could not be Maul’s Second, and even understood why Jango was the one that they had chosen, but it nonetheless rankled. Jango had inclined his head politely towards the two Brothers when he had seen them, and Feral had returned the gesture. But ultimately, Feral wanted to be with his brother.

          Feral was so proud, and so utterly amazed that he sometimes did not know how to handle it.

          It was strange to think that this was the same brother that he had gotten to know. It was strange to think that this was the same brother that would hide with him from younglings by lying atop pillars, would tease them with limbs just out of reach to allow them to try and catch… The same brother that would similarly use those pillars to hide from Obi-Wan and have Feral inform him that he would not be talking to him.

          Feral had learned so much about his brother, Savage often joining them when he was able, which was not as much as he would like.

          Savage had agreed to help Viscous. He was the spokesperson for the Nightbrother Diaspora that were still attempting to settle and so was often busy, but they always were together when they could be.

          Maul had spoken of the possibility of making this more common, of the opportunity to unite their peoples with the Vode, and the Mandalorian splinter group that was still in existence and had been growing.

          Feral did not understand much of Mandalorian politics… He understood that there was technically a Duchess, one that Maul seemed to hold in some manner of…not perhaps contempt, Feral had seen his brother hold people in contempt before and she did not hold the same level of ire, but certainly a level of annoyance. But they were not attempting to retake the whole of Mandalore. Not yet, as Maul had put it with a very intent look at Obi-Wan which the Jedi had pretended to ignore.

          The Duchess had apparently called Maul after that, and Maul had simply hung up on her.

          Repeatedly.

          Feral had been unable to stop laughing.

          But from what Feral did understand, Maul had no intention of going after the Mandalorians that were upon the planet, and instead was perfectly willing to leave them be… But he was planning on reuniting the factions that were under another man.

          A man that Maul had to kill. A man that Maul needed to take a saber from.

          Feral could understand that.

          Symbolic weapons that held the power to unite the peoples underneath them was not an unknown concept to Nightbrothers, though theirs had all been lost to them. As it was, Feral walked next to his brothers, and knew that he would kill to keep them together.

          Feral walked next to his brothers and thought of a small boy that had stood in their midst and the man that he had turned out to be. Feral was proud.

          And more than a little amazed.

          Feral knew it was not all his brother.

          Feral knew that the Jedi had helped the Vode, and similarly he knew that the Vode had latched onto the Nightbrothers, and he also knew that the Death Watch had been what had helped free the Brothers, and similarly so had White Sun which had been so instrumental in not only showing the Brothers that not all women wished to enslave or hurt them, but also that there was more out there. There was a constantly reaching hand that had been extended towards each of them…

          But Feral could not forget Maul in that Holocron as he spoke of not knowing if he would ever come back.

          Feral could not forget the little boy that had loved.

          Maul looked to him briefly and Feral smiled.

          “You ready to be the Maul’dalor?” Feral asked, his smile given teeth.

          Jango laughed, even as Maul rolled his eyes.

          “We should start calling it that,” Jango said, laughter in his voice. “Mandalore is still under the rule of the Duchess, and supposing you don’t mean to take over…”

          “Obi-Wan is not here, is he?” Maul asked, looking around unnecessarily.

          “He is not,” Savage answered, laughter in his voice and in the slight curve of his mouth. “As you very well know. You forbade him from coming, and as you are about to be Mauld’dalor…”

          “That is even worse than calling me Mand’alor,” Maul said.

          “Very well, Mand’alor,” Jango said immediately.

          Feral and Savage both roared with laughter, Maul turning to stare at Jango, the man smiling at him without fear or worry.

          Maul rolled his eyes once more and continued walking.

          “I do not have an interest in actively opposing or hurting the Duchess Satine because she is…well. I do not know if she considers me a friend…”

          “You have probably seen to it that she does not,” Feral laughed.

          “But I do enjoy her company,” Maul said, talking over him. “And I do not wish her harm. She is an idiot. Her ideals on pacifism are not only misplaced they are extreme, but I believe they are reactionary to what the Mandalorian people had become. And I do respect her ability to stand by those ideals even if I do think that given enough pressure she would break her own people before she allowed them to break.”

          “You have thought about this a good deal,” Jango said briefly.

          “I have,” Maul answered. “I have also decided the possibility of stealing her citizens right underneath her nose by simply being a better ruler of her people would be more entertaining than any attempts I make to actually dispose of her.”

          Savage laughed. “It likely would be,” he agreed.

          Jango looked at his comm briefly, giving a soft sound. “They’re in position. We can seek an audience with Vizsla whenever you feel up for it.”

          Maul paused at that.

          “I am hesitating aren’t I?” he asked.

          “You have made us walk around the perimeter…four times now,” Savage pointed out.

          “I was waiting for them to get set up,” Maul said. He paused. “Can I do this?”

          “Take Vizsla’s head off?” Jango asked. “Undoubtedly. Rule an entire people?” Jango paused, “your Brothers are loyal. The Vode adores you. Death Watch…” he trailed off. “It is funny to me…that I have joined with someone who is seeking to rebuild what killed us.”

          “We were thrown out before you even entered the picture,” Maul said. Then paused. “Fuck.”

          Jango laughed. “You’re claiming it. You have recognized its history. You know its tenants. You are willing to follow.”

          “I have. I do. I will.”

          “You care.”

          “I do.”

          “I think that will make you a great leader,” Savage said.

          “I think they would kill for you,” Feral said. “And they will not be the only ones.”

          “More importantly…” Jango said, and his voice was low, and it was hard, “I think they would die for you.”

          Maul made a soft sound at that.

          “Are you ready?”

          Maul closed his eyes, for a moment breathing deep and allowing himself to center, Feral feeling the tension in the bond that connected him to his Brother, the uncertainty. Feral brushed up against it, and Maul grabbed hold, Feral gripping tight to his brother’s aura and feeding him slowly with feelings of certainty, of loyalty, of love.

          Feral had no doubt that Maul could do this.

          Maul’s hold tightened briefly, warming Feral with feelings of acceptance, of gratefulness…

          And then Maul slowly let go, breathing out.

          “Very well,” Maul said. “Tell them we are going to enter the compound.”

          Jango sent the message across, and Maul led them into the mines.

          Pre Vizsla was waiting.

_

          Pre Vizsla hung up the comm, his head bowed.

          Talking to Satine was exhausting. He stood before her as her chosen Governor when for years…for years all Pre had wanted to do was claim her spot. All he had wanted to do was rule Mandalore, to return it to the Glory. All his life Pre had heard of the battles of his Ancestors. The sword that he carried a legacy to a people that had been. To his family and what they had created.

          Pre had looked back upon his line of greater men and found himself small in a way that he could not stand.

          He was standing upon their shoulders…but there was nowhere he could reach.

          Pre had joined with the Count, made attempts to broaden his resources, to reclaim Mandalore…

          And yet here he stood, and the Separatists had fallen to pieces.

          The Count had been imprisoned.

          Grievous was even gaining therapy the last he had heard, which he would never have believed.

          There was nothing left. All that was there was him…and Bo-Katan, and the remains of a force that they had created.

          The problem was, Pre had no plan.

          Pre could no longer operate in the shadows. There was no way to show that Satine’s leadership had holes. There was no way for him to take over in a way that would lead to the people trusting him.

          There would be no war…there would be nothing that he could use to conceal his efforts.

          They would have to start again.

          Pre wondered idly whether or not it was even worth doing. Dooku had been captured, surely…surely at some point he would tell them of Death Watch.

          Surely Pre’s life would be forfeit as would the rest of them. He had no doubt that Dooku would attempt a plea bargain, and it would be everyone else’s neck but his. It was infuriating.

          Pre had no desire to spend his last years in a cell. Pre hated idleness and he hated the idea of wasting away more than anything.

          His ancestors had been proud warriors, ones that had even stolen from the Jedi themselves, and now here he stood…

          Here he stood.

          In an old mining catacomb in a moon that had almost been destroyed… Governor of a people of warriors that could not fight.

          Pre wished for many things.

          An honorable death was one of them.

          Pre looked over as Bo-Katan approached, taking in the woman as she nodded to the members of the Watch she passed, her gaze nonetheless fixed on his. Pre did not know what to tell her. She had abandoned everything, family her home, her sister in order to be with the Watch, had carved out the Nite Owls. Her dreams had been the same, to see The Mandalorians returned to the warring peoples they were. To see their honor and glory restored…

          But what did they have left?

          Pre sighed, turning to face her as she finally came to a stop before him.

          “What did she say?” Bo asked.

          Pre thought back to the conversation, wondering what was actually useful, what Bo actually wanted. Sometimes he thought that she missed her sister. Sometimes he thought that she wanted for him to tell her that she had changed her opinions, that Death Watch should be reinstated. Pre wasn’t even all that sure he blamed her.

          Satine was still her sister.

          But at the same time, there was the way that she had said it. There was the annoyance in the tone, and Pre could never tell.

          “She spoke of Dooku,” Pre said. “About how he was going to be making a plea bargain. Mentioned Death Watch.” Pre paused before smiling. “She told me to be careful.”

          “Then it’s all over then,” Bo said softly. “Unless we run now…”

          “Where would we run?” Pre asked. “Would you have us go underground? Have us refuse to take off our helmets, go into a galaxy as common bounty hunters? Leave our names and selves behind?”

          “There has to be a way,” Bo said. “Maybe we create our own army. We have…”

          “What resources do we have?” Pre asked. “Who would we go to that are not villainous scum? How can we trust them to have our backs? What happens when they realize that Death Watch does not have the numbers to truly oppose them?” Pre sighed. “I cannot see a way out, Bo. Can you?”

          “There must be something,” Bo said. “Surely…my sister would offer clemency, we could…”

          “You wish to take an offer from your sister? Even if it would put us in the position to betray her later?”

          Bo said nothing.

          “I had thought not.”

          There was silence and Pre sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

          “Are we just going to give up then?” Bo asked. “That’s it? This…this is it?”

          Pre looked to her, spreading his hands. “What would you have me do? All of our power, all of our dealings we had in secrecy, but they were nonetheless underneath Satine’s nose. They were nonetheless done with a group that is now being prosecuted.”

          Bo drew herself up, angry…

          An explosion shook the camp, and Pre stood up, for a moment wondering whether or not Satine had figured it out and had sent for them… But this was Satine. She would never have resorted to violence.

          So, what…was this?

          The sounds continued, a fight, coming towards them, and then…

          The doors were blasted open. His troops poured in, retreating, sending bolts that…

          That froze…in mid-air… Hovering before them like some sort of deadly light show.

          They stopped firing, and the shots were sent away, sent back into the walls harmlessly.

          Pre could not believe what he was seeing. Three men entered first, one of them dressed as a Mandalorian all in black, and the two behind them were… They were Nightbrothers. The one in front was a Nightbrother, his horns tall, each of them walking forward with an air of utter confidence, a swagger that spoke of warriors born…

          And behind them came another man… A man that was repeated in the faces on the ones behind him, and… More Nightbrothers.

          And then someone that Pre remembered, someone he never thought he would see again.

          Soln.

          Soln Wor.

          Death Watch had been cleansed of the non-humans that had once inhabited it by his father. Soln was amongst the number, as were… And as Pre watched he realized what this was…

          And found his attention drawn once again to the Nightbrother at the front.

          Blood-red skin…eyes that glowed in the dark, and an expression that was almost…

          Bored.

          And then those eyes locked on Pre.

          And Pre remembered hearing of this being.

          Pre remembered the whispers of the one that was tearing apart Zygerria. Pre remembered the temporary fear of what would happen if those stripped from Death Watch came back. He remembered fearing what they may do…

          Pre looked into those eyes…

          And he saw his death.

          Pre watched as the force before him spread out… His gaze fell upon Jango Fett… Jango Fett…who was staring at him with a smirk on his face…

          And then the one who walked forward froze in the wide arena that they had used to challenge each other in, the arena that would be his death.

          “I am Maul,” he said, his voice a rich growl that rumbled low, and then a singular finger pointed towards Pre Vizsla, “and I challenge you – one warrior to another…for the right to wield the Darksaber. I challenge you for the right to rule Death Watch.”

          Pre looked back to the men and the women that had followed him, the ones that he did not know how to help… And stared at the one before him.

          Maul.

          Pre tilted his head.

          “So be it,” he said, and stepped forward into the ring.

          Pre knew that he would not be fighting fair. He had seen the way the Nightbrothers had used the Force. He also knew that the one that had to lead their people was one that had to be tricky, had to be quick, had to know that life would not play fair…

          And so, he stood before him and ignited the Darksaber.

          And then Maul ignited his own weapon, and purple came forth.

          The blade of a Jedi.

          But Pre did not think that this man was a Jedi.

          It was only as he attacked with the Darksaber, it was only as Maul met him on even footing…that he realized that Maul intended to kill him without the Force.

          Good.

          Maybe he would be able to give him a scar to remember.

          Pre attacked fiercely, attempting to put the man on the defensive, to get him to stumble back, but Maul was even with him, and indeed was more skilled. Pre could see the slightest of smiles on his face, and the realization that he was amusing him was almost more than he could take.

          The feeling of a boot in his face, sending him back caused him to pull a blaster, firing immediately and with every shot Maul deflected it, none of them were back towards Pre, but it was clear that Maul could block him. Pre launched himself forward with the saber once more, the jetpack boosting him forward.

          Maul caught the blade with his own, pushing him back, and Pre changed his angle, managing to elbow the man’s head…

          It was only as Maul reared backwards in surprise at the sudden blow that Pre could feel ringing through his bones that he realized he may have made a mistake.

          That same head that Pre realized was crowned in horns and was made for it bashed into his own heavily, Pre finding his vision going temporarily black, stumbling away, and he slashed with the saber instinctively, feeling it be caught, aiming another stroke, and then sending his wrist-mounted flamethrower directly towards him.

          Maul dropped below it, diving forward, sending Pre toppling, the flamethrower dying as it became too dangerous… Pre also realized his danger in grappling with a Zabrak.

          Pre could feel it, the strength in the limbs that sought to pin him, to keep him…

          Pre sent the blades mounted in his wrist straight-up, Maul forced to back away, fall back, and for a moment he saw blood…

          There was that scar…

          Pre rolled himself to his feet, and once again launched himself in the air, throwing bomb after bomb as Maul rolled…

          And then he launched himself up towards him, one of the first times that he actively utilized the Force, and it was to equalize their playing field. Pre felt the boots on his chest, felt the crunch as he hit the ground and rolled, pressing the button to release the death-trap from his back and kicking it towards Maul, who dove underneath it and came up with the saber yet again.

          Pre brought his own saber up, attacking and parrying, feeling the jar in his arms as the blows from someone so much stronger rained upon him. And all the while blood trickled down Maul’s face, trailing through the red of his tattoos.

          Pre knew that he was grinning.

          Pre kicked, feeling the impact of a boot on his own face even as he sent Maul backwards with his own. Maul stood first, Pre forcing himself upright, unable to let it happen like this.

          It would be on his feet, or it would not be…

          Pre shot his rope trap, catching Maul around the legs… Maul cut the rope off, and Pre shot the saber from his hand, charging forward, and the hope… There was a hope…

          Pre attacked and Maul caught hold of his sword arm, and Pre knew that was it.

          Maul bent his arm back, nearly breaking it across his own shoulder, Pre forced to let go.

          And that was the moment when Maul once again began attacking.

          Fists and feet and Pre could not keep up… Maul was a superior warrior.

          Maul sent him to his knees… And Pre could not…

          Pre forced himself to tackle the other man, to send him back, to go for his throat… Maul forced his way through Pre’s hands, smashing his horns against Pre’s forehead, and the black spots were back, and they were worse… Pre fell backwards, sent to the ground…

          Maul stood…and Pre heard the sound of the Darksaber…the knowledge that Maul had claimed it.

          Pre forced himself slowly to his feet and Maul waited, watching, the blood trickling down his face…

          “It is as you said…” Pre said roughly, feeling his legs tremble beneath him, staring into the face of his death. “Only the strongest shall rule.”

          And then nothing.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #shmi skywalker #darth maul #maul #an unexpected chance #twin sons #jango fett #Captain Rex (in passing) #there's a lot of in-passing #Pre Vizsla dies #pre vizsla #mace windu #mandalorian oc #Anakin Skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #healer tiq #bo-katan kryze #savage opress #feral opress #gosh man i have been sitting on this forever and i'm sorry #i had planned on trying to finish this in one chapter #that was a lie i'm sorry LOL #i should hopefully finish it in the next one because i tell you what... #i wanted to be finished with this one LOL

[trashmuseum]

PLEASE HELP THE ANIMALS IN GAZA‼️

@sulalaanimalrescue (in this link you can see the desperate cries for help people in Gaza are sending to Sulala) is the only animal shelter in Gaza and they are running out of animal food to help all the animals, cats, dogs, birds, donkeys and horses!

Currently they are sheltering cats and dogs, but also donating food to animals owners in Gaza, helping lots of gazans feed their beloved pets (including the donkeys and horses that are working extra hard since fuel is not allowed thanks to 🇮🇱).

Please, for many people their pets are one of their only sources of hope and happiness during this genocide. Can you imagine surviving all they have endured and now having to watch their pets dying of hunger?

YOU CAN HELP THEM!

Here are two ways to help:

Donate to one of these two links: LINK1 LINK2

Email the following text to the Organizations emails below the text.

E-mail copy:

"Dear,

I am writing to you on behalf of Sulala Society for Animal Care in Gaza, the sole animal protection organization operating in the Gaza Strip.

I am reaching out to bring your attention to the dire situation that animals in Gaza are currently facing due to the ongoing conflict. As you are likely aware, the Gaza Strip has been under siege for the past 49 days, and the recent hostage exchange deal has granted a brief 4-day truce, allowing for much-needed aid to enter through Egypt.

However, amidst the chaos, the crucial issue of animal welfare is often overlooked.

The animals in Gaza, including cats, dogs, horses, donkeys, and birds, are suffering immensely. The scarcity of food and shelter has left them in a state of desperation.

Of particular concern are the working horses and donkeys, which serve as the primary mode of transport, carrying both humans and vital water supplies. Unfortunately, due to the lack of fuel, these animals are now struggling with insufficient food, compounding their misery.

On behalf of Sulala Society for Animal Care, we urgently appeal for your assistance in facilitating the entry of essential animal aid into Gaza.

We kindly request the following items:

1. Cat food and dog food (dry and canned);

2. Veterinary medicine supplies, with a focus on painkillers and anti parasite medication;

3. Food for donkeys and horses;

4. Food for birds.

We understand the complex nature of the current situation, but we believe that addressing the plight of these animals is a humanitarian imperative. Providing assistance to the animals not only alleviates their suffering but also contributes to the overall well-being of the community.

We kindly ask for your immediate attention to this matter and request that you take all necessary measures to facilitate the entry of the specified animal aid into Gaza.

Time is of the essence, and we believe that with your support, we can make a significant difference in the lives of these innocent creatures.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

We look forward to your positive response and collaboration in this critical humanitarian endeavor.

Sincerely, [your name if you feel comfortable]."

Preliminary list of United Nations organisations active in the occupied Palestininian territories or in Animal Rights - these addresses are publicly available:

OCHAOPT (organisation for the coordination of humanitarian affairs occupied Palestinian Territories) Email main office: [email protected]

UNRWA (UN organisation created to meet Palestinian refugee needs since 1948) New York office: [email protected]

Washington DC office: [email protected]

Cairo office: [email protected]

UNCAHP (UN Convention on Animal Health and Protection): [email protected]

FAO (food and agriculture organisation of the United Nations): [email protected]

UNICEF: [email protected]

World Food Programme: [email protected]

World Animal Protection: [email protected]

ICRC: [email protected]

It's highly important that you email the organizations, because GAZA itself is running out of animal food, so we need to pressure the orgs to let animal food enter Gaza along with human food, also animal medications since a lot of them were also hurt by the bombings.

Thank you very much ❤️❤️❤️

P.S. obvious but worth saying, keep talking, sharing, pressing your Reps, calling for an ACTUAL ceasefire AND A FREE PALESTINE!

#don't need anyone saying shit about oohh what about the people like I don't care for both 👎 #most of my post about Palestine are about human life not animals so... #AND people can care about animals and humans it's not that hard you know? every life deserves freedom (except for Zionists hahaha jk) #gaza #free palestine #free gaza #palestine #ethnic cleansing #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #gaza strip #cease fire in gaza #animals #animals rights #pets #signal boost #cats #dogs #horses #donkeys #birds #vegan #veganism

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 114]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53

Wanted to get a lot done today but... man am I tired. So... it's up in the air how many parts you get today.

Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.

“What are the cliffs?”

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.

“Great,” the king said. “I’ll” make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”

Chapter 55 (Logan)

            Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

            Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think coriander would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intentions,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning to him and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the coriander.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than coriander, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already disappeared before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in flames instantly. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

82382

The armor stand at that very moment decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

#proofread stories #not writing

[sakuplumeria]

For writer's ask....

3, 8, 10, 16, 24, 30, 34, 38, and 49!

Thank you :3

Ohh, so many, I like it! Thank you for asking~ Writer's ask game here.

3 Computer or pen and paper?

Oh, I love writing with pen and paper.... but for convenience, computer :>

8 Oldest WIP

Dated October 2020... This work is supposed to be a series of 9 stories. I published 8 of them already but I just haven't finished the final and last story. It's a Tantei Gakuen Q (Detective School Q) fanfiction, set after the ending of the manga. I used the lyrics from the Opening Luvly, Merry-Go-Round as the titles for the series and the stories. The WIP is titled Forever, under this sky, which is supposed to be the ending or of the series.

10 Do you set yourself deadlines?

Usually no. I did it once for my longest fanfic in Saiyuki, challenging myself to publish a chapter once a week. It was a good exercise, but not doing it again :')

16 How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied with a project?

I don't usually count it.... so honestly I don't have any idea :') I edit my writings a lot though, maybe more than thrice?

24 Favourite genre to write and read

Angst, hurt/comfort <3

30 Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet

Yuumori medical au based on this. I've been thinking to plot out a fanfic out of it.

34 What was the hardest scene you ever had to write?

Out of Breath, one of my WIP that I plan to give up :/ The whole idea was that Goku learned to control his chi from Hakkai so that he could heal Sanzo who's getting lung disease from smoking too much. I started to get stuck in Chapter 4, when Goku's chi getting stronger in his body but he still couldn't let it out, and Sanzo was aware of that. The tension between them... Yeah I spent so much time in editing the chapter and I am still not satisfied with what I published lol.

38 Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

Is this weird? I don’t know, you make the call… and yes, it’s another WIP :’)

Koumyou woke up besides Ken’yuu in a hospital room. After a week they both finally realized that Koumyou was a ghost. They try to find out why Koumyou was a ghost and not reincarnated as he was supposed to.

49 Which character would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

Goku. He's just that sunshine my dark soul needs. He's so friendly and positive and accepting and adventurous, and he's not giving up even though bad things happen. Sanzo is so lucky :3

#thank you for asking! #saiyuki #yuumori #my writing #i am once again reminded of the 18 WIPs I have...

[cadaver-anthology]

-> Ask Revita about his [Sicknasty brain powers]

TOLPEN XLIBRI [TOLPEN] has started a conversation with REVITA ANFELS [REVITA]. TOLPEN: WhaT is iT ExacTlZ Zou aRE suppoRTing mE WiTh? I would pREfER To knoW WhaT is aT mZ disposal RaThER Than To havE Zou pull ouT somEThing sTupid Ex machina WhEn iT Would havE savEd mE a loT of pain in ThE Rumpus globEs To knoW and usE iT fRom ThE sTaRT. REVITA: Oh sure babey. Youve go7 alllllll my suppor7. REVITA: Surely youve no7iced 7ha7 im a blueblood. 7echnically a highblood but only 7echnically. TOLPEN: ZEs, iT has noT EscapEd mZ noTicE ThaT Zou aRE fRom ThE cobalT hEmocasTE, and ZEs, I am aWaRE ThaT This paRTiculaR casTE is pRonE To having a vaRiETZ of mind poWERs. I am asking WhaT aRE ZouRs. REVITA: Youre kinda a killjoy i like 7hrowing around exposure lore. TOLPEN: I gET ThaT a loT. REmain on ThE Topic. REVITA: Oh for crying ou7 loud. I7s mind reading. I can ge7 in7o peoples heads and pull ou7 all kind of s7uff. Wha7 7hey know, wha7 7hey feel e7c e7c. REVITA: Ofc 7ha7 7akes focus i can7 do 7ha7 willy nilly on 7he fly. REVITA: Bu7 youre gonna like 7his par7: Passively i can access 7he surface 7hough7 layer. I can7 passively read i7 my powers are kinda weak grubsauce compared 7o o7her blues. Bu7 I can sense a disagreemen7 be7ween 7hough7s and spoken word. TOLPEN: Zou mEan liEs? Zou knoW WhEn somEonE liEs? REVITA: Yeah baby! REVITA: 7ru7hs my game. REVITA: Also s7andard 7erms and condi7ions of blue brain fuckery apply. TOLPEN: I am noT familiaR WiTh ThERE bEing TERms and condiTions To psionic poWERs. REVITA: By defaul7 mind powers are mos7 effec7ive on people lowes7 on 7he hemospec7rum. 7he higher you go 7he harder i7 is 7o mess around wi7h peoples 7hinkpans. Don7 expec77 me 7o go spelunking in7o a clowns head. Firs7 i don7 really wanna bc i7s gonna be full of gory shi7 or worse poe7ry. Second i can7 really. Like i migh7 ge7 in7o 7he head of a purple run7 of 7he li77er so 7o say but im no7 gonna be 7hinking wi7h 7he fishes for sure. REVITA: Ano7her 7hing is 7ha7 7eals are for some reason really really hard 7o mind con7rol in general 7ha7 includes mind reading 7oo. REVITA: Oh b7w have 7his. I7s 7he casefile. Ill wan7 i7 back 7ho bc i7s mine. TOLPEN: Thank Zou, I supposE.

[Casefolder] added to Sylladex.

[Sicknasty brain powers] has evolved into [Lie detection].

You inspect the green casefolder that Revita Anfels has handed you. It's the one his talksprite has been holding all along. In bold black letters it says on the front "Not Porno". You carefully open it.

The folder is devoid of pornographic material as advertised on the covers. Instead it includes a lot of empty evidence forms and three filled out autopsy lists.

Name: Gregor Cadvar | Bloodtype: Olive | Cause of death: Bloodloss | Age: 20 | Notes: Left horn not located | Case: T-49

Name: Tallia Dinayk | Bloodtype: Teal | Cause of death: ??????? | Age: 15 | Notes: Found in pieces. Full au7opsy denied | Case: T-49-2

Name: Feratu Magdal | Bloodtype: Jade | Cause of death: ??????? | Age: 9 | Notes: Found in pieces. Full au7opsy denied | Case: T-49-2

Included photographies depict the bodies as-found. Cadvar was the troll murdered in the meal block. Dinayk and Magdal have been found piece by piece in several rooms in the Security wing.

[Full au7opsy denied] added to Thoughts.

[First][Previous][Next]

Sylladex: [Grub Box (empty)], [Casefolder]

Thoughts: [Full au7opsy denied], [Lie detection], [Meal block murder], [Team murder]

#7 for Vende77a #choose your own adventure #fantroll #tolpen xlibri #revita anfels #homestuck

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 8

Ch 45

Ah Dorian, poor Dorian. Really seems like it’s getting worse. Baby I just want you to know I’m still rooting for you

Ch 46

that one-two punch of juxtaposing the doom and sorrow Dorian feels with Aelin being sad about Rowan rejecting her? FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS, but, seriously, Hahaha I feel like such a bad person for caring about her getting her sexy romantic happy ending - while Dorian is over here suffering looooool thanks SJM

Ch 47

Lol

I love you Celaena

What a WAY to put your alter ego to rest…

AND WOW it’s the end of part one already!!!!

That genuinely FLEW BY

Cheers, here’s to part two, Queen of Light

Ch 48

“I'm an immortal," Manon said, taking a seat across from them as Sorrel stood guard by the doors, Vesta in the hall outside. "Time means

nothing to me.”

She’s like sexy Gandalf

How is my girl gonna get out of this one?

I’d really like it if she just ate the Duke

Ch 49

Aelin dresses down into her slutty little sleeping number, yes, good, get your man, yes

Rowan pines, yes, good, very good. He actually TALKS to her, ahh, AHHHHHH, but then they continue to NOT ravish each other and I’m - *sigh*

Rowan please for the love of god

You’re gonna have to make the first move here, and it’s gonna HAVE to be a very intentional move, because you hurt her feelings and she’s not about to put herself out there for you to HURT HER again

She brought you this far it’s your turn to reciprocate, ok

please

Don’t let me down

Aelin and Lysandra talking about boobs

I. Love. Lysandra.

“As soon as I get my powers back, these things will be the first to go.”

She should be friends with Elide, who can teach her how to bind her chest, and just bide her time until magic makes breast augmentation procedures a whole lot easier

Ch 50

Plot plot plot

Seems like something exciting is about to happen

Ch 51

Okkkkk what the fuck, what is happening over here with Manon and the witches

When is she gonna eat that guy, for real

Also I am hyper aware of every collar-wearer, and here’s a brand new one, she just fucking killed him, lol

Ok good job Manon, but also can you do… research. I need to know if it’s possible to unhook the collar!

Also I REALLY want to know who Kaltain is

I’m so dead curious

She said the shadowfire came from her and it was always in her

Is she a princess? (How does she have magic!)

Save her neck Manon, I am begging you. She could become your best witch.

#tog read along 2023 #queen of shadows

[zoominag]

1800-1849

This is part of a series in which I am posting clips of my larger project by decade as I finish them. For more about this project, or to ask me to include your doll or OC, check out my pinned post.

Previous posts:

17th century

1700-1739

1740-1769

1770-1799

The OCs in this post that are mine are Charlotte and Jane, Rachel and Abigail, and Hannah and Delia (they're in pairs because I did the Best Friends series based on @americangirlstar's suggestions, and in the process created a Best Friend for each of my own characters). Héloise and Aoife belong to @autistickirstenlarson, Violette belongs to @getintothesun, and Charlotte belongs to @gardner-n-pardner.

While putting together previous installations I became aware that I have the birth dates wrong for several of the canon characters. I'm planning a redo for the canon character set, eventually, so please do let me know if I'm wrong about anyone. I might already know, but since I have pretty severe dyscalculia as well as ADHD it's not bad to have the info available in multiple places.

1800s

Charlotte Finch: 85-94 Jane Finch: 83-92 Héloise Cormier: 46-55 Kaya'aton'my: 45-54 Speaking Rain: 45-54 Felicity Merriman: 35-44 Elizabeth Cole: 35-44 Rachel Gabay: 20-29 Abigail Schorr: 20-29 Lydia Livingston: 1-10 Caroline Abbott: 0-8

This is it, as narrow as skirts are going to get for about a century. Everyone was really into looking like Greek and Roman statues, so white dresses in drapey fabrics were the rage for young women. Caroline and Lydia are a little young for that style though. Before I decided to add the Best Friends to the project, I put Lydia's dress in Caroline's collection, but then I did make Lydia and made the green dress her meet outfit. Now that I'm thinking about a redo, I want to give Caroline a completely different dress, maybe that also has those sheer sleeves.

1810s

Charlotte Finch: 95-99 Jane Finch: 93-99 Héloise Cormier: 56-65 Kaya'aton'my: 55-64 Speaking Rain: 55-64 Felicity Merriman: 45-54 Elizabeth Cole: 45-54 Rachel Gabay: 30-39 Abigail Schorr: 30-39 Lydia Livingston: 11-20 Caroline Abbott: 9-18 Clara Montoya: 0-7 Josefina Montoya: 0-5

The switch from wearing their skirts calf-length with visible pantalettes to ankle-length might have been an exciting growing-up moment for Caroline and Lydia. At the same time, the silhouettes are getting less flowy with stiffer fabrics and little puffs on the sleeves. Meanwhile, in New Mexico, I gave Clara styles based on illustrations of Ana and Francisca as well as leftovers from Josefina's collection, and then afterward decided to do a siblings series, so...whoops again, I guess.

1820s

Héloise Cormier: 66-75 Kaya'aton'my: 65-74 Speaking Rain: 65-74 Felicity Merriman: 55-64 Elizabeth Cole: 55-64 Rachel Gabay: 40-49 Abigail Schorr: 40-49 Lydia Livingston: 21-30 Caroline Abbott: 19-28 Clara Montoya: 8-17 Josefina Montoya: 6-15 Hannah Kane: 0-5 Delia Freedman: 0-5 Violette Metoyer: 0-5

The early Regency was all about long, narrow lines, but now the width is coming back, along with growing sleeve puffs and lots of horizontal lines. Frills, lace, and bows are starting to show up on skirts, and hairstyles are starting to get tall again. It's coincidence that @getintothesun's Violette is the same age as my Hannah and Delia, but drawing them together is turning out to be a fun exercise: Hannah and Delia are comparatively plainly-dressed kids, appropriate to their hardworking lives on the Erie Canal, while Violette has a richness in her wardrobe that works with her comfortable life in the Louisiana warmth.

1830s

Héloise Cormier: 76-85 Kaya'aton'my: 75-84 Speaking Rain: 75-84 Felicity Merriman: 65-74 Elizabeth Cole: 65-74 Rachel Gabay: 50-59 Abigail Schorr: 50-59 Lydia Livingston: 31-40 Caroline Abbott: 29-38 Clara Montoya: 18-27 Josefina Montoya: 16-25 Hannah Kane: 6-15 Delia Freedman: 6-15 Violette Metoyer: 6-15 Aoife Callaghan: 0-3

This decade for the first time we have two members of the @autistickirstenlarson extended universe in play! Each of her characters has a strong color palette for their collection: not every outfit incorporates the theme colors, but enough do to feel like the character herself has a preference. For Héloise, the go-to colors are blue and brown. For Aoife it's green and cream.

1840s

Héloise Cormier: 86-95 Kaya'aton'my: 85-94 Speaking Rain: 85-94 Felicity Merriman: 75-84 Elizabeth Cole: 75-84 Rachel Gabay: 60-69 Abigail Schorr: 60-69 Lydia Livingston: 41-50 Caroline Abbott: 39-48 Clara Montoya: 28-37 Josefina Montoya: 26-35 Hannah Kane: 16-25 Delia Freedman: 16-25 Violette Metoyer: 16-25 Aoife Callaghan: 4-13 Cecile Rey: 0-7 Marie-Grace Gardner: 0-7 Kirsten Larson: 0-5 Singing Bird: 0-5 Charlotte Devereux: 0

I struggled a lot with finding accurate, non-exoticizing references for Singing Bird, as I did for Kaya and Speaking Rain. As a result, it feels necessary to include a disclaimer to the effect that this project should not be viewed as an accurate source for Nimiipuu, Salish, or Lakota clothing. Please do not cite me as a reference. While it was easy to find examples of modern-day Nimiipuu , Salish, and Lakota regalia, and there are photos of individual garments from the 18th and 19th centuries on display in museums, it was hard to get a feel for what an outfit might accurately have looked like, without entering into a level of research that would have been way beyond the scope of this project. That said, I do intend to eventually go back and redo the canon characters, so if someone seeing this does have access to and familiarity with good 18th and 19th century Nimiipuu, Salish, and Lakota clothing references, and the time and patience to share it with me, I will absolutely use them in the redo. For now, please know that the probable inaccuracies in my drawings of these characters are not intended as disrespect, and as always I am open to knowledgeable correction.

As always, to get your historical doll or OC included in this project, HERE'S THE LINK. Obviously if your doll is from earlier than the 1840s they'll have to wait for the next round of drawings, but you're welcome to put them in the form.

#American Girl #Zoominag #Héloise Cormier #Violette Metoyer #Aoife Callaghan #Charlotte Devereux #Zoominag OCs by AGblr #Mazal Cardozo #Agnes Jonker #Charlotte Finch #Jane Finch #Rachel Gabay #Abigail Schorr #Hannah Kane #Delia Freedman #Zoominag OCs #Kaya'aton'my #Speaking Rain #Felicity Merriman #Elizabeth Cole #Lydia Livingston #Caroline Abbott #Clara Montoya #Josefina Montoya #Cecile Rey #Marie-Grace Gardner #Kirsten Larson #Singing Bird #Zoominag by decade