#ive had it for eight years (still going strong <3) and back then my only solace was the vimes boots theory

[tiffanyachings]

one thing i like about getting older is how much less awkward it becomes to be unashamedly practical. look at my giant backpack boy. look at all the stuff i can carry

#ive had it for eight years (still going strong <3) and back then my only solace was the vimes boots theory #and terry pratchett’s books for tragically sensible and rational girls #whereas now it’s like. you WISH you had a backpack as big and sturdy as mine #fieldwork

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA

Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”

Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.

(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas​, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)

how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg

jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??

omg yes, finally

is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway

OH MY GOD

I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING

I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on

that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”

I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk

apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh

interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible

(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)

and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it

oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas

so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku

so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami

First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh

(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)

okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about

“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm

(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)

OH SHIT??

YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes

oh damn

well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir

this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs

why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt

lol what

someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what

(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)

omg the hermit theory is true!!

“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao

IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP

AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!

?!!?

okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”

(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)

oh my god oh my god

did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??

but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?

(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)

so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up

oh shit

is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit

DUDE

so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation

THANK YOU, DEKU

right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD

what does this mean??

so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true

and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death

and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw

so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something

oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol

wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land

but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol

SERIOUSLY, GUYS

BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever

(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)

FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!

lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five

so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”

Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol

they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek

and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk

so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward

so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much

“in other words, kiddo...”

looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been

“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people

(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)

FFFFFFFFF

“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...

(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)

anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week

so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save

and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol

#bnha 304 #midoriya izuku #all might #ofa prime #ofa iv #idk what his name is I forgot it already lol #the actual forty-year-old man #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

[multifandomhoodies]

Finnpoe Rec List!

There’s some really fantastic Finnpoe fics out there and I’ve been setting aside fics from my bookmarks for this for a while! These are just some of my faves, so enjoy!! 

Canon/Canon Adjacent (not AUs outside general Star Wars universe) 

“how to become the spark” by sassy_ninja (G - 49.7k

Poe Dameron, commander of the Resistance fleet, best pilot in the galaxy, hotshot trigger-happy flyboy, he's all of these things plus a little bit more. This is the story Poe Dameron, shy farmboy, doting son, idiot gay, soldier who tries his best not to be broken by the war roaring around him and most of all just a human in a galaxy which doesn't care about things like love, friendship and fear. This is how he breaks and how he begins to heal again and how he starts to learn what it means to be alive. Or Poe Dameron's life from his childhood to the end of the war.

“bathed in blue light” by delgay (M - 17.4k)

When Finn turns to his right, Poe stands beside him, looking up at Finn and giving him what might be a smirk if he weren’t too busy smiling. It’s that same smile that’s made home on his face ever since Finn said, “I’d like to see Yavin IV. If I’d be welcome.” Poe had blinked fast, but the smile came slow. “Buddy,” he’d replied, “I’m offended that you even had to ask.”

A year after the Battle of Exegol, Finn and Poe visit Yavin IV. While there, Finn struggles with the Force and his complicated relationship with Poe.

“we slept with our backs against the weather” by bogpersons (T - 8.4k)

Poe’s breaths come in stops and starts, and wheezes on the inhale and exhale. He sounds like a dying man. Finn lifts Poe’s hand to his lips, presses it there, squeezes his eye shut. Something harsh and painful swells in his chest, finds a place under his heart and pushes and pushes and pushes until Finn can barely breathe with it. You are a Human Person. Finn and Poe crash on a jungle planet. Finn struggles with himself.

“We Stan A Healthy Family Dynamic (The Kes Verse)” by AphroditesTummyRolls SERIES (Not rated, 161.7k)

Get in losers, we're giving the Star Wars Sequel cast the story they deserved-- Particularly Poe and Finn.

[Set after the events of TFA, rewrites of TLJ and neat little bits in-between. Poe deals with the aftermath Kylo Ren’s interrogation, dealing with regret and trauma, with the help of his friends and dad through a rewrite of TLJ.]

“your love will be safe with me” by incalyscent (T - 8.6k)

when finn stripped away the violence from himself, what did he have left? it was love; love; love.

“i’m yours (and suddenly you’re mine) by spacepilotprince (E - 4.3k)

Finn snorts against Poe's stomach, and it forces a ticklish laugh out of him. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren't you?” Finn asks as he looks up at Poe, and finds that grin he heard in his voice.

“Not the only thing that's thick,” Poe says with a smirk, glancing down between them towards Finn's cock.

“Oh, shut up,” Finn laughs, surging up to kiss him, muffling Poe's laughter. Poe runs his hands over Finn's shoulders and tips his head aside, sending Finn's mouth down his jaw and neck.

“Contact” by earthmylikeness (M - 9.9k)

Because what could Finn do but live through it? Live in the remains of his own shipwrecked mind, his badly-crossed wires. Imagine Poe’s perpetually bitten mouth on him - his wide, calloused hands on his bare chest, pulling him down and down whenever he so much as closes his eyes. 

Finn has a delayed reaction to surviving the crash.

“Best Laid Efforts” by cosmicocean (T - 3.7k) @cosmicoceanfic

In which Jessika and Temmin do their best, aren't even subtle about it, and Poe and Finn are still morons.

“Ad Pacem” by SteveTrevorsStarship (T - 1.5k) 

Finn knows war and rebellion so far. He doesn’t know peace. (Yet.)

“First Comes the Night” by coffeeinallcaps (E - 20.1k)

He doesn’t get nightmares. He doesn’t dream about the mask, the cries of the villagers, waking up in the desert with a blinding headache and his mouth filled with blood and the man who’d saved him gone, most likely dead. Instead, he just can’t sleep.

“have you heard” by peradi (Not rated, 42.1k)

"I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper." 

Finn sparks a revolution.

“Doubt” by Cadoan (T - 1.4k) 

After the battle of Crait, something has changed in Poe. Poe can't sleep, and Finn goes to find him.

“Neither Here Nor There” by d8rkmessengr (T - 7.8k)

Sometimes, it felt like he wasn't really here. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't really over. And the one person who tethered him left to finally tell Rey something. Post The Rise of Skywalker.

“How to Be a Finn” by Ayashiki (G - 111k)

In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love. And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.

“On the Other Side” by StarMaple (T - 27.2k)

Finn discovers the differences first hand between the First Order and the Resistance and establishes a space for himself on D'Qar.

“we are all stardust” by synergenic (Losseflame) (Not rated, 15.3k)

Finn wakes up. He wakes up slow, the rising tide of consciousness making him aware, firstly, of how stale his mouth tastes. Then it's the general stiffness of his body, the foreign feeling of a pillow beneath his head, the softness of the clothes he's wearing. Finn doesn't think he's ever worn clothes so soft.

“No Sleep till Brooklyn” by TheCarrot (T first chapter, second chapter E, - 10.4k)

Poe is exhausted. And not just because he hasn’t slept for more than three hours at a time in Force knows how long. Moreover it’s the 39 flights he’s run in the last 22 days and the fact Pava had gotten deathlike sick eight days ago and then they had fallen behind on a few supply runs and an emergency evacuations of some of their pathfinders and then there had been a last minute scramble to one of their allies in the mid rim with far too many TIEs to be comfortable and then- well, Poe just wants to fall over onto the floor and stay there.

AUs

“Time of the Underdog” by beeeawolf, SERIES. (G & T, 56k)

Modern times AU, Poe is a former Navy pilot who was discharged after a crash and being a POW. Finn is a university student who manages to catch Poe’s run away dog, BB-8, who’s literally everything to him.

“We Didn’t Start the Fire” by MayGlenn and cognomen (E - 10.7k)

There’s a calm that claims them all when they’re working and it’s going the way it’s supposed to; the low-level hum of concentration and focus and adrenaline that keeps them on edge without panic. The crew deploys from Idaho, a home base that they see perhaps 3 weeks out of the entire 26 week fire season, interspersed with time in camps and housing all over the country. This week, it’s California—sunny, liberal, beach lined, and on fire.

Finn's a Hotshot firefighter; Poe's the team Helitack operator. They're headed to California to fight a fire in San Jacinto; dangerous country.

“It’s Not Goodbye” by mssrj_335 (T - 25.9k)

Finn is an ex-soldier on a solo motorcycle trip across America. Poe is the mechanic in a small desert town. Poe wants to keep his secrets and Finn is running from something--or toward it--and the part for his bike is going to take at least a week to come in. What starts as a quick stop and awkward flirt devolves into a conspiratorial intrigue of a very personal nature. Lights in the desert, headaches and vague memories all point Finn to something that has Poe tied in knots. He just has no idea how far that something will take him.

“A Possibility (A Promise)” by sapphistication (T - 5.9k)

Poe, Prince of Yavin, is briefly reunited with the Resistance Fighters lead by General Leia Organa. After three years apart, he quickly finds that his affections for Finn are of a different nature than he remembers. Despite the war they find themselves in, they share a few moments of peace by the fire, filled with soft words and meaningful smiles. Time works against them, but Poe seeks a possibility and makes a promise.

#finnpoe #stormpilot #star wars #finnpoe fic #finnpoe fic rec #stormpilot fic #stormpilot fic rec #stormpilot fic recs #finnpoe fic recs #finn #poe dameron #poefinn #fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #if you enjoyed any of these please considering rbing this post so others can see! #star wars fic #star wars fic rec #rey #leia organa

[allthingskenobi]

Obi-Wan in Exile – Owen Lars

(Originally published on AllThingsKenobi.com January 10, 2021)

Welcome to the second in a series of looks into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time in exile on Tatooine between Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. We’ve tried to mine as much Legends and canon material as possible to help guide you through some of the period’s most common and repetitive themes so that when the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series airs, you’ll be ready.

Not everything he ever did in the entire 19 years will be explored here, but as we said, we’ve tried our best to pick out the most prominent and impactful moments to give everyone a better understanding of exactly what one hermit had to endure out there all alone in the sandy deserts of Tatooine.

There’s no way around it: Owen Lars hated Obi-Wan Kenobi. But why? A young Luke Skywalker could have benefited greatly from the two men working together, but it was not to be so. Here we will look at just a few of the many times the Jedi was rejected by the hardened moisture farmer in an attempt to understand just how fraught with tension their relationship really was.

“That wizard’s just a crazy old man.”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

Owen Lars was the very first person to ever paint a picture for us of the now-illustrious Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is what he had to say about him. Though we, alongside Luke, quickly recognize Owen’s words for the untruths they are, we were left to wonder exactly where the animosity, and possible bad blood, between the two men began. Especially since well up until Attack of the Clones was released, Owen was Obi-Wan’s biological brother (as confirmed in original drafts of Return of the Jedi), which made the exchange all the more tragic.

“But what if this Obi-Wan comes looking for him?”

“He won’t, I don’t think he exists any more. He died about the same time as your father.”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

Owen continues to try and deter Luke by point-blank telling him that Obi-Wan is dead. It’s another clear falsehood that, at the time, carried little to no weight until twenty-eight years later when we witnessed the “deaths” of both Anakin and Obi-Wan on the slopes of Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith. But that’s a story for another time…

“He makes his terms abundantly clear: “We’ll take him in, but you’ll play no part in his upbringing. If you have to stay on Tatooine, you keep your distance, do you hear? You neither see the boy nor speak to him. He must know nothing about his father.”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

“Obi-Wan was glad and relieved that Beru and Owen agreed to raise Luke, but his mission did not end there, as it was also his duty to watch over the boy. He had thought that his ongoing presence would be some comfort to Owen and Beru. He soon learned that he was mistaken.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

From the moment Obi-Wan arrived on Tatooine with a newborn Luke Skywalker, Owen made it abundantly clear that the Jedi would have nothing to do with the child. It was an unfair set of terms that Obi-Wan, while doing his best to adhere to, would breach with regular frequency, often pushing his already contentious relationship with the farmer to its breaking point.

Over the years, not only would Obi-Wan often be forced into interceding on the family’s behalf as protection (much to Owen’s chagrin), but he would also willingly cross the line to try and form a relationship with Luke from afar. Whether it was a simple gift of parts for Luke’s skyhopper (1) or a handmade wooden toy (2), the attempts would be vehemently denied and Obi-Wan would find himself right back where he started.

Star Wars 15 C

Was Owen right to be concerned that trouble would follow Obi-Wan back to Luke and their homestead? Of course. Obi-Wan understands and even acknowledges that his watchful gaze could attract attention (3), so he backs off, moving farther out into the Jundland Wastes until the time comes when he is needed. (3)(4) But Owen took his concerns above and beyond, twisting reason into a deep-seated personal hatred of the other man.

“The hut was approximately 136 kilometers from the Lars homestead—farther than Obi-Wan would have preferred, but probably still too close to satisfy Owen Lars.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

“I managed to steer clear of Owen Lars this time. The man doesn’t like me at all.”

KENOBI L

“I’d always believed – always hoped – that Owen’s anger would cool toward me, that one day I would be allowed to train young Luke in the ways of the Force.”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

“Old Wounds” – Star Wars Visionaries L

Why? Why did Owen Lars hate Obi-Wan Kenobi so much? First and foremost, he placed the blame of Anakin’s downfall solely on Obi-Wan, going so far as to accuse Obi-Wan of “murder.” (1) It’s interesting to say the least that Owen would have such strong opinions about a man he’d only met once (5), but it seems to become more clear when you take into consideration that Owen adored his step-mother, Shmi. But while Shmi no doubt loved her adoptive family, she often spent her time looking to the horizon waiting for the day when Anakin would return. (6) So for Obi-Wan to have lost Shmi’s beloved son might have been too much for Owen to bear.

We’ll discuss this more in depth later, but Owen even removed Shmi’s headstone, along with the stones of other family members, so that Obi-Wan could no longer visit the site. (7) Consequently, it also ensured that Luke would never know about his grandmother. At least not while he lived at the homestead.

“If killing me would have brought [Anakin’s] mother back to life, I know he would have killed me then and there. I could see it in his eyes.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

At some point, Owen also seemed to have distrusted the Jedi as a whole. It was a prejudice formed the day he watched an angry and unrepentant Anakin Skywalker return from slaughtering a village of Sand People. (2) That being his only interaction with a Jedi before Obi-Wan came along, Owen didn’t want Luke to have anything to do with what he saw in Anakin that day.

“Everyone was stunned when Owen abruptly told Ben to leave and not to come back. The experience had left Luke baffled. Even now, some ten years after the incident, he still did not know why Owen had been so angry with Ben. From what little he knew, he assumed that Ben’s purpose on Tatooine had been to discreetly watch over him while Owen and Beru raised him as if he were an ordinary child, not the son of a Jedi-turned-Sith Lord. But if both Ben and Owen had been responsible for protecting Luke, why hadn’t they gotten along? Luke could only imagine why Owen had so aggressively objected to Ben’s presence. Luke remembered listening to conversations between his uncle and aunt, practically spying on them, hoping to hear any small detail about his father or Ben Kenobi. Owen and Beru never revealed much but merely reinforced that they preferred not to discuss either man.”

LIFE AND LEGEND OF OBI-WAN KENOBI L

Luke cheers, running full pelt toward me, arms as wide as his smile. There is a crunch behind me and I turn, Owen’s fist burying itself in my nose. I slam down hard on the ground, the lightsaber skittering from my hand. All my training, all my experience, and a humble moisture farmer has achieved what neither battle droid nor Sith has achieved, knocking me flat on my back.

“Uncle Owen!” Luke cries in confusion as his uncle manhandles the boy toward his aunt before turning to glower at me.

“Go,” he all but spits, an accusatory finger punctuating the furious decree. “Get away from here. Haven’t you people done enough to this family?”

“TIME OF DEATH” – FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW C

Lastly, and most unfortunately, Owen never minded expressing his distaste for Obi-Wan in front of Luke, going so far as to strike Obi-Wan and send him away while the boy watched. Would Owen’s treatment of the strange desert hermit help one day drive a wedge between the boy and his uncle? Maybe. Maybe not. All we do know is that Luke, like his father before him, was already inextricably linked to Obi-Wan Kenobi. And there was nothing Owen Lars could do about it.

Citations:

Star Wars 15 by Jason Aaron C

“Time of Death” – From a Certain Point of View by Cavan Scott C

Kenobi by John Jackson Miller L

Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi by Ryder Windham L

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones C

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones Novelization by R. A. Salvatore L

A New Hope: The Life of Luke Skywalker by Ryder Windham L

#Obi-Wan in Exile #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Kenobi Series #Owen Lars #long post #text post #crossposted from wordpress #allthingskenobi #no doubt we will get to see this play out on screen in the show #:((((

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Blind Hope: Chapter 7

Title: Blind Hope Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 1,232 Pairing: Nick Jakoby x Reader Chapter Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst, Plot, affectionate frustration Disclaimer I do not own Nick Jakoby, he is the intellectual property of Netflix Originals, I make no money from this fanfiction. Dedication: @14readwritedraw96 and @thezucchini​ (For being so wonderfully enthusiastic) TW/CW Descriptions of pain, long term hospital stay

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 <~ You are Here

You are standing in the middle of the pasta isle at the grocery store when your cell phone goes off. It's that distinctive ping of an unknown number texting you. You sigh, roll your eyes, and wonder what is the easiest possible thing that you can make for dinner that night. In the past six days your workload has tripled. June and Em are on a much needed vacation and Nick is still unconscious at the hospital.

You know that because you called right before you left to go grocery shopping. You also called first thing this morning, and last night, and the morning before, and the night before that. You have called the hospital at least twice a day for the past thirty-seven days. You got the exact same information.

“Officer Jakoby is still in an induced coma, and he is not ready to be seen by friends or family.”

It was maddening.

Your phone goes off again and you set a jar of premade sauce back on the shelf. Your stomach isn't feeling red sauce. It isn't feeling pasta. Or oranges. Or any one of a thousand other things you were totally down for eating. You hadn't been hungry since the night part of LA went up in magical flames. Since Nick had been hospitalized.

With a sigh you eased into the snack isle. Is a bag of chips an acceptable replacement for dinner? Probably not, but you've had take out for the past two weeks and absolutely none of it has filled the steady, continuing ache in your heart.

Your phone goes off again.

“What?” you snarl loud enough to make the old lady with a basket full of frozen dinners blink with bewilderment. “Sorry. Not you.”

You pull your phone out and waive it at her. She doesn't look convinced, and doubles her speed to get into the next isle.

With a few swipes you bring up your new messages.

“This is Jessica, the Head Nurse at the Intensive Care Unit at the UCLA Medical Center.” The first message reads.

Your heard pounds so hard in your chest that your vision goes a little hazy. You grip your phone tightly enough to make the screen rainbow with protest.

“Nick Jakoby has achieved a state of continuing consciousness. One of my nurses made the mistake of telling him that you had stopped by.”

That hazy feeling turns to ash. You had wanted to see him yourself, to let him know what had gone on, and why you hadn't talked to him in six, not seven, months.  He must be angry, furious.

The third message is brief, and comes across as a little mad. “In order to keep him in bed, I promised him you would come see him tonight. Do not make me a liar.”

You desert your cart, and take the shortest possible trip to the hospital that you have ever taken. Which is impressive, considering all the times you driven up there in the past month, just in case something had happened between your morning and evening check-ins.

You don't stop at the front desk, you know where you are going. The elevator doors close as you turn the corner, and the wait for the next ones seems like an eternity. The moment the doors whoosh open, you surge inside hitting the buttons for the ICU floor. You don't even wait. You ht the close-door button and watch your reflection stare back at you as the lift starts to rise.

What are you going to say? Should you have gotten balloons? Flowers? A stuffed animal? Would he even be allowed those things? Did he want them from you? Did he want to see you to make up or to have a final talk? In the twenty-eight seconds that it takes to get to your floor, your mind plays out you greatest hopes and worst fears in a strange, overlapping loop that leaves you feeling a little lightheaded.

Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that you haven't eaten well in a month.

Your clothes don't fit right, you think as you tug at the fabric. You should have gone home to change. You were wearing your comfy clothes to go shopping. The fabric weird. Then you realize its not the fabric, its your own skin. You are so nervous that your skin feels like an electric current is running through it. With a huff you roll your shoulders, trying to settle your nerves. It doesn't help.

The doors slide open and as fast as you got into the elevator, you hesitate to get out. This could go wrong. What if his mother is there? His partner? What about Johnassen, the jerk who broke his phone so long ago?

It doesn't matter you tell yourself as you take that first step off the elevator. All that matters is he's awake. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes.

A stern looking woman with stark gray curls looks up from a desk as you approach. She tilts her head and inspects you.

“For Jakoby?” she asks like she already knows the answer. “Follow me.”

Your heart is in your ears as you follow in the steps of her worn out shoes. She swipes her badge, taking you through a set of secure double doors. The sounds of the hospital change. The ICU is bereft of human noises, but it isn't quiet. You can hear televisions on a half a dozen channels turned down low, doing what they could to preoccupy patients who were in layers of pain. The sound of breathing machines hiss and whirl. A man in green scrubs wheels supplies down the hall. There's no happy, warm chatter. Just a strange sense of desolation and pain.

You do not like it here, and you can't imagine Nick here. Nick, with his warm laugh and kindness. Nick who kisses you like the universe exists in your lips. You want to scoop him up and take him away.

The nurse stops outside of a door at the end of the hall.

“They are quarantined behind a see through partition,” she tells you in the kind of no-nonsense voice that must come from years in her work. “Do not attempt to breech this partition.”

She holds out a long medical gown. Confused, you shoved your arms into the sleeves. She spins you, and starts to tie it up, and then she puts another one on your back, spinning you again so she can tie it in the front. She hands you a cap, and a mask, and you put them both on as she helps your feet into medical grade booties.

“How dangerous is it?” You ask as she holds up a pair of gloves to slip on your hands.

“Unknown,” she tucks the end of the gloves over the wristband of the double set of gowns. “But you saw the news, you know where they were. Better safe than sorry.”

She types a number into the key pad. “You get ten minutes. No more, no less. I'm not being mean, but we need to minimize any chance of exposure.”

You nod your understanding. Ten minutes isn't much time, but you'll make the most of it.

“There are armed men in there,” she finally says. “Don't do anything to make them think you are a threat.”

It's the last bit of advice she gives you before the pad turns green and the door is opened.

The room is long, white, and empty save for what looks like a box made out of hanging plastic. Only a few of the lights are on, casting half the room in evening darkness. There are several beds, but only one of them is occupied. The long, lean body of a black male is visible beneath the harsh lighting. Three other people stand guard, dressed from head to toe, AR-15 clutched in their hands. The door closes behind you.

For a moment you stand there, frozen and unsure. A little, ugly thought makes you wonder if this is some weird trick. Then you hear your name.

Your eyes are drown to the shape of a man sitting in a chair. You hadn't noticed him at first because the dark lines of his body blend a little too easily with the pseudo darkness on that side of the room. But now that you've seen him, you can't pull your gaze away.

Nick. You'd know the shape of him anywhere. The broad, strong line of his shoulders stands guardian against the pitch black behind him. There's a blanket across his legs, and an IV in his arm.

“It's you,” he says softly, disbelieving.

“Nick.” You take one step, and then another, and before you know it your legs are carrying you across the room. You almost forget the plastic. When you foot hits it, you're startled. The guards watch you with cold glares. “Sorry.”

And once you start saying it, you can't stop. Over and over again you apologize. You don't realize you are crying until you taste the hot salt of your own tears. You are sorry you didn't call him. You are sorry you left. You are sorry you didn't answer him back. You are sorry for everything you ever did in the last six months because none of those things was going to him. You sink to your knees at the edge of the partition, the tears making it impossible to speak.

He says your name again, so soft you wonder if you dreamed it. You look up, and he's shaking his head.

“Please, don't cry.”

Slowly, unsteadily, he gets up. He doesn't look at you as he pulls the chair from one side of the plastic sheet box to the other. Right in front of you, he plops the chair down, and then lowers himself into it. His staccato motions belie how hurt he must still be.

The pair of you are silent as you look one another over. You see the bruises beneath his woad blue spots; purple and yellow and, in some places, black. You see the stitches in his arm, the thick swelling of his hands. The skin around his cheeks is slack with the lack of food he's gotten in the past month. But his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that are yellow and red and orange all at once, they are filled with pain that has nothing to do with being thrown half a football field by a magical explosion.

“You're here,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought-” He stop short, shrugging, and then wincing.

“I know,” you tell him. While you aren't sure of the exact words he must have thought, you know that it couldn't have been good.

“Why?” he asks.

You open your mouth to tell him, but the words wont come. You remember Elizabeth, his mother, and the way she had looked at you. You could tell him everything, but what good would that do? He might get angry at his mother, it might cause some kind of rift between them and how many people did Nick really have who cared that much for his safety? Not nearly enough, you think as you take in injuries you hadn't noticed before.

Instead you shrug. You can't bring yourself to lie, but you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth either, no matter how much it's burned inside of you. You turn the words that she said over in your mind, pulling an answer from them without revealing their source.

“You got hurt because you were with me.” Your voice cracks as you say it.

His eyes close and his shoulders sag. His body leans forward. You think he's about to slide out of the chair. The pair of you kneel on the floor, staring at one another. Emotions that you don't think have ever been named whirl through you. You want to touch him, you want to hold him, you want to vanish together into the night.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. You were just the excuse. When they saw me-” he cuts off, coughs, and shakes. “They'd already decided what they were going to do.”

He looks away. You can tell that there's more to say, that he's struggling. Rather than push you give him a moment. He deserves that at the very least.

“It wont happen again,” he says.

“Why not?”

He opens his palm, I can't see anything there, but he must because he's staring down at it like it's something special.

“I can't talk about a lot that happened that night,” he says. “I want to, I want to tell you everything but...I can't.”

You shake your head. “I just need to know you are safe.”

“I think I am. I mean-I gotta tell you, it was not a normal night. I was...I was blooded.”

Your eyes go wide. You can't help but stare at his lips. He smirks.

“It'll take a while for the tusks to grow. But I don't need to file them anymore.”

You sit back on your heels. “Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you. It's a long look, a scared and hopeful one. It's like he's weighing a thousand dreams as he watches you and all you can do is wait.

“I thought I was getting over you,” he finally says. “It'd been months. Long months. Really, really long months. My mom even set me up on a couple dates with some unblooded girls from other states.”

Your stomach twists.

“Yeah?” you say, hoping that he's not about to tell you that he has moved on and this whole thing was about him saying goodbye.

“They were nice, but they...they didn't understand me. They didn't like what I do. They didn't like my jokes and they all thought Alaska is stupid.” The two of you laugh and it feels so good. He shifts his position until the two of you are nearly the same height. “I wasn't falling for someone else but I was pretending really hard like I was getting over you.”

You nod, you know what he means. You'd been going through all the motions, acting like you were moving forward when all you were doing was playing the role and hoping.

“I was going to come see you,” he said. “As soon as my shift was over that night. I was going to go right to your apartment. Everyone said I shouldn't because I'd just get hurt, but I thought that it would be worth it. I just..”

Slowly he reached into the blanket still twisted around his legs. His thick, injured fingers shook with pain as he pushed the fabric around.

“Where-hold on-it's here, I swear.”

Your heart, which has already gone through far too much, pounds all over again. Your mouth goes dry.

“Nick...”

“I almost died you know,” he says as he lifts a corner, continues to look. There's a little wetness on his brow, and you wonder if it's fear, nerves, or pain that's put it there. “And not just once. I almost died like four times.”

One of the guards cleared their throats.

“I know,” Nick said, holding up his free hand. “I know. I can't tell her anything. But you only have to look at me to see that it happened.” He went still, and bowed his head. “I did die.”

It's not even a whisper, there's no sound. It's a breath of words that you are sure the guards couldn't hear. You pounding heart turns to ice in your chest.

“What?”

But he doesn't say it again. Instead he looks up at you and his eyes are bright with a hundred emotions. “And all I could think about, was you.”

He holds out his hand. Nested there is a black velvet box. Carefully, he opens it, revealing a ring. It's made of two metals, platinum and rose gold, twisted around one another to form a very simple braid, and right there at the center is a stone in the exact same shade of blue as his spots.

“All  I thought about every day has been you,” he is saying when your ears start to work again. “And I don't want to ever have to worry again.”

You swallow twice before you can speak. “Are you proposing?”

You aren't sure if he's blushing, but his ears twitch. “Only if you're saying yes.”

“You have to ask,” you say. “You have to...ask.”

“Is it a spell? A human thing?” he says.

You shrug, because it kind of is, but mostly you just need to time to stop your thoughts from making such a commotion in your head. There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, a thousand even, but even so-

He says your name and you find that he's shifted yet again, down on one knee in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

#nick jakoby fanfiction #nick jakoby x reader #nick jakoby #proposal #cute #sweet fanfiction

[mychemicalaromanticism]

things ive already established r on this post

besties this got so fucking long but heres a giant ramble about cherri

okay so. there are huge differences betwn cherri as a hyperviolent drac hunter and cherri as a friend of the four and cherri as the girls mentor. with the first one he was 17 and desperate to distance himself from his upbringing so he went all in on Being A Killjoy. he was always one of the first ppl to rush into a fight and he fought hard. he blew up his fuckin hand with that attitude. and all the while he was just racking up more unaddressed trauma and eventually he ran away from that, too. giving himself radiation poisoning was more appealing than facing his problems.

so as a teenager/young adult hes kind of constantly in a panicked state. hes scared the people from his past are going to find him and drag him back with them. so he lashes out and he runs away over and over again.

i said in another post that he has some past life shit goin on which usually would give him a connection to the witch that manifests early in life, but with all the stuff hes gone through he has been Preoccupied. he can become oblivious to almost anything that doesnt apply to whatever hes focused on. not in a hyperfocus way its likeeeeee. when u live on survival mode during prolonged periods of stress. hes immune to magic bullshit bc hes too tired and scared.

anyways around his mid-20s he finally has a little more stability (as much as the average person living in the zones can have, that is) and he finally notices that Weird Stuff happens around him. basically: out of my list of Powers People Connected To The Witch Have he has the prophetic dreams/enhanced intuition as well as a form of sensing ghosts where he can see auras and kind of like, echoes of past events in ppls lives. that look like auras. itz complicated and not of utmost importance so im leaving it at that.

anyways thats what makes him start writing poetry. just 4 funsies he'll describe his weird experiences and embellish them to make em pretty. just as a casual hobby n all that.

he would forget fun ghoul in between the times they ran into each other but its pretty easy to be reminded of who fun ghoul is. the most insane 10 year old cherri has ever met. cherri isnt a brother figure to ghoul. hes just. his friend that happens to be more than twice his age. its whatever lmao

to cherri, ghoul is kinda like a stray animal he keeps seeing. which is hilarious. ghoul actually goes and finds him to introduce him to jet when they start running together, and cherri meets party and kobra (spark and birdie at the time) when he drives the four of them to a party. because he has a truck hell yeah. so now instead of one stray animal he has, like, a feral cat colony that he drives around occasionally. i have no real-life human relationship equivalent to them because irl if some guy that is not related to any of you and isnt even a childhood or family friend and theyre hanging out with you? they are usually not a safe person lmao. but this is my fantasy land and im too stubborn to change anyones birth years even though ghoul being born in 2004 makes everything really hard to make not creepy.

so yeah hes a casual somewhat friend of the fab four. hed probably get more and more concerned as they got famous. the beginnings of any sort of protective feelings, awww :) that sets him up for becoming the girls mentor.

OH FUCK. THE GIRL..... i think if i was in my late 20s and i heard that the gang of 13-17 year olds had adopted a 5 year old kid i would go bananas. what the fuck. it is a LONG while before cherri meets her. but he has the strongest affection for ghoul (if you could even call it that) and ghoul absolutely adores the girl and swings her around under her arms like a cat to show her off to cherri and its very endearing and the girl is sweet and funny so its easy to be around her. and (unfortunately) she is somewhat used to interacting with weird easily agitated people so she kinda gives him space. cherri isnt quite the uncle figure the fandom usually makes him (i luv uncle cherri sm but he simply cannot exist in the universe ive created, f), but hes a little similar.

and then the four had to go and pretend to die. lol.

when the girl was kidnapped, fucking everyone who knew her was ready to storm the city then and there. like regardless of how little you knew her, if you had ever met her you would fucking die for her. she is pure childish charisma and shes precious. i love the girl. so cherris immediately on board with whatever plan the four make to get her back. ive already talked abt how it fucked up the girl tho; there was no way to tell her that the four werent actually dead, she sees the building collapse and she shuts down. and cherri has to fight against his instinct to leave the radio station and never come back when he sees an eight year old girl sitting dissociated on the couch. that fucks everyone up.

i just realized i havent talked about literally anyone else at the radio station. i think cherri started lingering around the station bc it was safe and sheltered while also not being a popular spot. there are less kids there (people pass through but its not a hangout spot). he was kind of just hanging around to get away from the heat and noise and dr d took notice. because that man can see ur soul and no one knows if thats literal or not. so theyd chat a few times a day and show pony was the one 2 get him out of his shell a little and also was the first one he mentioned his poetry hobby to. im making this all up right now as im writing bc i dont know anything about LITERALLY any of the ppl associated w the radio like im not even going 2 try with chimp n newsie i do not have the willpower to tackle all that. justttt. cherri pony n D become bros and live 2gether there.

back 2 the regular timeline. the rescue mission happens in 2019. the girl lives at the station until 2023. during that time she is very much depressed and withdrawn and is only happy when the four come to visit. none of the Adults know how to help her so they just keep her safe and cared for and hope she'll open up to them.

she does not. she takes the weird cat thats been hanging around and she runs away.

cherri does not see her for three years. shes still worse for wear in the mental health department and he can see all kinds of visions of what shes been through since the last time he saw her and he fucking hates the ultra vs bc they remind him of his past. he does not want her going down that path but its obvious that she isnt crazy abt the ultraviolence thing either so thats a relief.

they have a kind of tense relationship throughout the comics. he feels like he failed her and that spirals into feeling like he failed the four for not being a good adult to them and fun ghoul for not helping enough when his commune was bombed and all kinds of shit and that irrational thinking mixed with plain old, yknow, caring about the girl, is what makes him take a bullet (laser. whatever) for her.

i was trying to figure out the timing of each of their ghost experiences, but i want both of them to talk to the witch and im just gonna make it like dreams where a whole buncha stuff happens but irl its been like seconds. so its like barely a second while the girl has her Witch Convo and cherri FINALLY gets a straight answer, yes there is weird shit going on with him having powers. he doesnt have any story-significant past lives because im lazy, hes just an old soul. like really fuckin old. the amount of latent life experience and stuff his soul/energy/whatever has picked up along the way makes him VERY noticeable to gods n stuff. he fuckin lights up all the alarms like what the FUCK is that over there. she wasnt rly able to get to him or even properly notice him while he was a kid and a young adult so shes happy to finally see him again. he has a STRONG sense of familiarity with her. they know each other on a wild ass level that he cant really comprehend.

welp thats some more lore I'll have 2 think abt. anywayz

post canon is when he and val get to have the most awkward spiderman meme moment of realizing that they have the same trauma SOOOOO thatz fun lol /s sorry kings i thought it would be fun to give u something fucked up to bond over <3

not much changes in his personality. he has a better understanding of Weird Magic and delights in freaking out the ultra vs but for the most part he returns to his life at the radio station. i love him

THIS GOT SO CRAZY LONG I DID NOT MEAN 2 GO THROUGH EVERY PART OF HIS LIFE LIKE SOME WEIRD CHARACTER STUDY but here we are. this is basically a first draft like almost all of this is subject to change but u gotta start somewhere. so heres my start i love this guy. its probably obvious but i have not read ANY twitterverse killjoys stuff </3 maybe i will someday idk

#cat talks #lore #ok2rb but what a mess this post is

[bigskydreaming]

So this is definitely one of my least favorite things to do, because there’s so many people on here that need help, but if anyone has a couple bucks or a five they can spare, that would be an enormous help to me today. 

For those that know my situation, as far as I know, everything is still on track for me to have the lets-pull-all-twenty-eight - of-your-remaining-teeth-at-once-it’ll-be-fun! surgery on Tuesday. I’m reeeeally looking forward to it, and also the Month of Living Without Any Teeth At All while I heal and they figure out the fittings and everything for my bionic teeth or whatever. Everything about it sounds swell. Can’t wait, it’ll be great.

SO. The plan is for me to take the bus out to the desert on Monday afternoon, reenact some of the best scenes from Saw on Tuesday morning while under hopefully heavy sedation, with fingers and toes crossed that these doctors actually listen to me for once about my ridiculous metabolism making most anesthetics wear off super fast. Because. Ugh. Doctors literally never believe me about that which has led to some pretty not cool experiences in the past, but none of those experiences have been yanking out every one of my teeth by the root all in one go, soooooooo, if ever there was a time for them to think maybe I actually know what I’m talking about and make adjustments for that, I’m pretty sure I want this to be that time. 

Thanks to my keen intuition, I have predicted that this whole process is something I probably want to be deeply unconscious for, and during, and tbh, maybe a week or so after that too. But like, I’ll mostly settle for just not waking up when they’re only actually on tooth eight, you know?

If I seem like I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous, its probably cuz I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous. I’m so not kidding about unpleasant experiences with anesthetics in the past, so while this wasn’t actually my reason for making this post, while I’m thinking about it, if anyone wants to also maybe shoot a quick prayer-tweet over to whomever you might personally @ with that kind of thing, I would be super grateful for anything of that nature, like something along the lines of “Dear Merciful Higher Power/Universe/etc, if there’s any way you could see to it that Kalen spends most of Tuesday knocked the fuck out, that would be awesome, thanks!”

Its just, I’m kinda over being in excruciating pain all day every day, like, I gave it a shot, just don’t think its for me, I’m afraid I just don’t have what it takes to be a hardcore raging masochist or whatever, so I’m just really not looking to set any new personal pain records next week if at all possible.

ANYWAY, requests for spamming higher powers on my behalf aside, the other reason for this post is I only have $3 in my bank account and an appointment this afternoon whose co-pay is going to be $50. But I can NOT miss this appointment, its super critical. See, so, the other thing is, my jaw has decided its reached the point where it just doesn’t want to close at all anymore, so I’ve gone from only eating once a day to only eating no times a day, and since I’ve already lost an absurd amount of weight and muscle mass over the last two years because of all this shit, they’ve put me on a regimen of regular IV intakes or whatever that’s called, just to like....get the nutrients I need into me somehow, y’know?  

And especially with the surgery coming up on Tuesday, and my immune system all shot to hell and my various other Vitally Important By-Products of Eating Food levels are low enough to have my doctor using mostly just four letter words when reviewing my latest labs, they’re literally trying to pump me full of as much of the various Nutrients And Other Stuff IVs as they safely can between now and then. And as much as I’ve been pretty much going 24/7 trying to stay afloat with all of this, I just...did NOT budget for needing to be hooked up to an IV every other day because my fucking jaw picked now to level up on being an asshole and like, physically will not cooperate with my attempts to survive on cheap $5 a day meals. 

So instead this week its been $50 co-pays every other day, because apparently when your body for whatever reason literally can’t take in the cheap 7-11 snacks and Happy Meals you usually live off of because That’s How Being Poor Works, it makes total sense that the one and only alternative for keeping your body fueled is to go to this little clinic place that hooks you up like you’re at a gas station, except you’re some kinda pretentious European model that won’t accept any less than the top dollar diesel, because I guess even Bags of Nutrient Water gotta somehow manage to be name brand shit, because yay capitalism. Everything about it is just so efficient and logical and works so well, especially if you’re part of the 99%.

Anyway I’m TRULY sorry I’m all over the place with this, I haven’t taken my ADHD meds because swallowing is the Devil’s Work right now, and also I haven’t had my daily Bag of Nutrient Water yet so my brain is like no I will not be cooperating. To sum up, once I get to next week I’m all set, everything’s in place for the surgery, insurance, I have a place to recuperate, I even already have my bus ticket for Monday purchased, my specific monetary issue right now is I am literally down to my last $3, I am currently physically unable to chew my way through a full meal, so I’m literally just paying co-pays of $50 every other day to spend 45 minutes sitting in a chair while my body sucks life-sustaining nutrient water through a needle. 

That might actually be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said or heard said and yet its factually 100% true. Our world is so fucking bonkers, jfc.

Literally ANY help getting me to today’s appointment, would be amazing, and then I have one scheduled for Monday morning before I leave, if I can find a way to make that too. And tbh I don’t actually know if one is even an option for tomorrow yet because the clinic I’ve been going to so far isn’t open tomorrow and I’ve yet to hear back if my doctor found somewhere else to send me that I can actually get to. So who the fuck even knows.

So yeah, sorry for making you ping-pong your way through that mess, this is my brain on Empty, like I said, I haven’t had my Bag of Water yet today. But any help is appreciated, whether reblogs, donations or good-thought-tweets for me on Tuesday. I’m a big fan of any of the above. Even $2 or $5 gets me closer to what I need, and if you can’t spare anything or have already sent or are sending what you can spare to another donation post, I totally and completely understand. And again, even just....good thoughts for Tuesday would be awesome, and certainly can’t hurt. I’m not like, worried about the surgery or whatever, its pretty simple, its more just....extensive. And my only real hope or want for it is just keeping the Ow factor as limited as it can possibly be. Whether that’s from the doctors coming through with a good strong hit of the goofy juice or some higher power telling all my nerve endings to take a sick day or just sit this one out, I am so open to either or anything in between or even coming out of left field.

And now I’m done. Thank you. You’re all rockstars, or insert your genre of choice. In conclusion, capitalism sucks, eat the rich, and buy a  bi a bag of water today please. I’m pretty sure there’s a T-shirt slogan in there somewhere, but fuck if I can pin it down.If anyone else does, hey, go nuts with it. I’m literally a bi guy who needs to buy bags of nutrient water every other day right now. That’s so fucking dumb, someone’s gotta be able to milk some mileage out of it.

My Paypal:

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

Or if that link doesn’t work, try this one instead:

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme2/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

My Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/kalenp

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

hold me like the moon holds onto the tide (3/3)

Summary: Kidnapped and locked in a cell with no escape. Alex and Michael are faced with an ex-Caulfield employee who is prepared to do anything to get alien powers of his own. (Inspired by the Daisy/Sousa scenes in Agents of Shield 7x06)

Word Count: 3,804

[Also on AO3]  [Part One] [Part Two]

“What about the time he tripped over your guitar and smashed his head into the table?” Flint leaned back as he spoke. The hard plastic of the chair was digging into his back and it squeaked as he tried to get comfortable.

He’d never liked hospitals. The strong antiseptic smell that seemed to linger in the air. The rush of people in the day and the quiet hallways at night. The big scary words that made no sense but always seemed to mean something bad. The unnatural mix of cleanliness and death.

He didn’t mind them so much when he was younger. His mother had always told him that they were hopeful places, where illnesses were cured and lives were saved. Thinking back, it was probably just her protective way of trying to calm his nerves whenever a grandparent was sick.

But at that age, her positive nature imbued in him a childish hope that the doctors would be able to help his brother. That soon they would realise that that many broken bones and bruised ribs a year was so much more than just a clumsy child falling off his bike or losing his grip whilst climbing a tree.

He couldn’t remember when he’d stopped wishing for someone to work it out and just accepted that no one would. It was probably around the same time he’d stopped accompanying his brother on his too frequent visits and had left that responsibility for someone else.

The last time he had actually stepped foot inside a hospital was after his unfortunate accident during CrashCon. Healing up in the unwelcoming, lonely hospital room for a week wasn’t fun but at least he hadn’t needed to worry about the condition of anyone else during that time.

No, the last time he’d been on the waiting for news end was during his last tour when several members of his team had been seriously injured.

Until now. Which is why part of him was glad that he wasn’t alone in his vigil.

“He must have been about eight, right?”

“Oh my god, there was blood everywhere!” Gregory grimaced as he looked over at him, horrified that his brother was even bringing up that memory.

Flint laughed softly at how uncomfortable the recollection had clearly made his brother, ”You felt so guilty! I don’t think you even got your guitar out of its case for months afterwards.”

Gregory shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t sure when this game between them of who had the most embarrassing moments had just straight up turned into a list of which brother had managed to injure another the most.

It was true though. He hadn’t slept properly for days after that incident. Every time he had closed his eyes he had seen Alex’s poor little face covered in blood and tears and snot and he’d felt the guilt brewing inside him. He had avoided the guitar out of fear that he would somehow manage to wound his brother with it again.

To this day he still makes sure that the instrument is kept off the floor.

“You know, growing up, I think that was the last time he was in the hospital where it wasn’t dad that put him there.” He replied sombrely.

Flint hummed in response. He had run out of words to say on that subject. It was a topic that had slipped frequently into discussions between the two of them during their months of reconciliation and it always ended in the acknowledgement of their guilt and desire to do better.

Gregory pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. It had been a long day and he could feel the hours catching up with him. “I really hoped I would never have to see him in a hospital again.”

"Were you there after he lost his leg?” Flint asked.

“No, I didn’t even know it had happened ’til months later. Did you?”

”No. I think Dad went though.”

“Seriously?”

Flint nodded with an unamused look on his face.

“Why? It’s not like he went to go play the loving father.” Gregory asked, genuinely confused as to why his dad would even bother to take the time to go and see Alex.

Flint shook his head as he repositioned himself again. At this rate he was honestly considering going on a hunt for a pillow. “That man didn’t know the first thing about being a loving father.”

Gregory’s brows furrowed as he failed to hide his surprise at that statement. The expression was so familiar and Flint couldn’t hold back an exasperated eye roll.

“Don’t give me that look, I may have followed in his footsteps but I know exactly what kind of man he was.”

Gregory watched as his brother played with the cuff of his jacket, his thumb and forefinger running along the edge before tugging uselessly at the material. It was a nervous habit that he’d always thought their father had managed to train out of Flint.

“Do you regret it? Following him?” He asked delicately, noticing how Flint’s eyes remained trained on his sleeve as he answered.

“We all followed him.”

“Into the military, yeah, we didn’t exactly have a choice. But on his little homicidal mission? The rest of us hopped that train before it reached the station.”

“Umm more like he didn’t even invite you onto the train. You have no idea what you would have done.” Flint replied defensively and Gregory was caught off guard by how much the look in Flint’s eyes reminded him of their mother.

“Pretty sure I wouldn’t have done that.” He teased, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah alright, well I’ve apologised, okay?” Flint rolled his eyes again as he leant over and gave his brother a playful shove.

Their conversation fell into a comfortable silence as their gaze drew back to the third presence in the room.

Alex hadn’t woken since Flint had found him but in the hours since they had brought him to the hospital his cheeks had gained more colour and he looked to be resting more peacefully.

Clean bandages hugged his various wounds, several IVs were in place to begin replenishing what Hughes had stolen and now all they needed was for him to wake up.

It was strange watching their brother sleep. The last time they would have had the chance was when they were all living under the same roof together, but Alex was always so guarded back then with their father in the house that he would never allow himself to be seen in such a vulnerable state. Starting after their mum had left, Greg could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Alex sleep and they’d all been due to illness or injury.

The hospital ambience of the room, along with Greg’s wandering mind, was interrupted by a text alert on Flint’s phone. He slid his hand into his front pocket and pulled out the device, unlocking it with a quick tap of four digits. He opened the message and Greg watched as his eyes scanned the words.

“It’s Clay. He says he’s glad we found him and to keep him updated.”

Greg’s eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. It had been a long while since he’d seen Clay in person but he was glad to hear that their brother was also onboard for acting like a family again. “Who would have thought it. It only took us until our thirties but we’re all finally learning how to be brothers again.”

Flint opened his mouth, ready to give a sappy reply about how he much he’d missed the bond they’d all had during childhood, when a small groan from the bed caught his attention.

Alex’s brow was furrowed as he poked his tongue through his lips slightly - a tiny habit that Greg could recall seeing him do all the time when he was younger. After a few moments his eyes blinked open as he let out another involuntary groan.

Greg couldn’t help but grin as he watched Alex slowly register his surroundings. Being closer to the top of the bed than Flint, he leant forward and gently placed a comforting hand on Alex’s arm.

“Hey.” He whispered, keeping his voice low as to not startle his brother.

Alex turned his head slightly, his unfocused eyes drifting to the left as he followed the sudden sound. “Hey,” he replied, his words slow and soft. “You’re here?”

“Of course we’re here.” Greg began to rub his thumb back and forth along Alex’s arm in a soothing gesture. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Greg was unsurprised at the answer. Alex’s eyes were already struggling to stay open. “Go back to sleep Alex. You’re safe now.”

Alex had only allowed his eyes to close again fully for a moment before they were flying open again, Michael’s name being drawn from his lips with a gasp.

Greg continued the soothing motion, bringing Alex’s gaze back to him. “He’s fine, he’s okay. He’ll probably be here the next time you wake up.”

Alex nodded as he let his body relax once more and drifted back to sleep.

Greg looked over to Flint to find him wearing a matching smile, nodding to himself in an unspoken acknowledgement. Alex was going to be okay.

-

The door to Alex’s room opened carefully.

Michael had noticed that the lights inside had been dimmed so he hadn’t wanted to wake anyone, though he was wholly unsurprised to find Greg and Flint watching him with raised eyebrows as he entered.

“Thought you were gonna try and get some sleep?” Flint asked in near amusement.

“I did get some sleep.”

Greg tilted his head sympathetically. “Michael, you’ve been gone barely an hour.”

Michael shrugged as he took a seat in the one remaining chair on the other side of the bed, “No one specified how much sleep.”

He had tried to get some rest but every time he closed his eyes it was like there was an invisible string yanking him back to the hospital.

Isobel had taken him home as soon as Kyle had assured them all that, in time, Alex would be fine. She had spent the drive spouting on and on about how he had been through as much of an ordeal as Alex had and he needed to rest and look after himself. Or at least let someone else look after him.

The words had been left hanging in the air between them for a good few minutes before he had fully registered her kindness. And then he had just felt a horrible pang of guilt deep in his stomach. Guilt that her compassion and protectiveness didn’t quite warm his heart as much as Alex’s had.

So he listened to her. He ate the small plate of food she had lovingly made for him. He drank the hot cup of tea that burnt his tongue. He showered, letting the scolding water wash away the overwhelming fear that had been building up inside him ever since he first woke up with his hands chained to a wall. And then he crawled into Isobel’s bed and tried to ignore the nervous energy that was still sitting heavily on his chest.

And he had slept a little, he wasn’t lying about that, but it was like his brain knew that there was somewhere else he should be and he just couldn’t take it any longer.

“How’s he doing?” He tugged at his bottom lip as he observed Alex’s still sleeping face.

“Better.” Greg nodded, taking a moment to hide a yawn with his hand. “The doctor came back while you were gone. Said he’s probably gonna be quite weak and achy for a few days at least. But the transfusions are helping and he should be fine.”

Michael ran a hand through his curls. It wasn’t much more information than Kyle had provided earlier but to hear that nothing had gone wrong in his brief absence was relieving.

“He woke up not too long ago.” Greg continued and Michael looked at him, somewhat horrified that Alex had woken without him. It must have shown on his face.

“Calm down Guerin,” Flint snorted, “it was for like thirty seconds, he probably won’t even remember it.”

Michael could practically feel the heat crawling up his cheeks. No matter how protective and borderline possessive he felt of Alex at the moment, it was still embarrassing for anyone but himself to be aware of that fact.

“No it’s good, I’m glad he’s okay.” Michael coughed as he tried to deflect the conversation.

But Greg seemed to know how to catch him off guard all of a sudden as he turned it back onto him. “And how are you feeling?”

Michael took a few seconds to process the fact that Alex’s brother seemed genuinely concerned in his questioning.

“I’m fine, my powers are back and everything.” He replied warily. With Jesse Manes gone, he knew that he wasn’t in any danger from anyone currently in the room, but it still felt strange talking about his alien abilities to any Manes man that wasn’t Alex. “I could probably do with a bit more sleep before I try to use them, but whatever Hughes did to me has worn off.”

“That’s good that it wasn’t permanent. We’ll still go through all the data that Hughes managed to collate though and find out exactly how much he knew.” Flint said strategically and Michael could practically see the mental to-do list he was creating in his head. “And as long as you’re aware that you should be sleeping, I think our job here is done.”

Greg smirked at his brother’s comment. It was very clear that getting Michael to rest was a battle they were not going to win tonight.

“Talking of sleep, you know you two look worse than I do and I was literally being held hostage a few hours ago. If you want to head home for a bit I can stay with Alex.” Michael said innocently as he watched Greg yawn once again.

“Greg, I think that’s code for he wants some alone time with our little brother.” Flint mocked in a hushed tone.

“Hmm I think you’re right Flint.” Greg joined in, watching as Michael’s eyes widened as he spluttered in defence. “Or do you think maybe it’s just our company he doesn’t like?”

“Oh definitely. He’s been waiting for the moment to get rid of us.”

“We must have done something really wrong considering the person he wants to be left with is still asleep right now.”

“That is so true Greg. I mean he’s clearly desperate so we should probably leave now before we make it even worse.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he failed to control his smile. It was a display of brotherly mocking that he never imagined he would ever experience from someone other than Max and Isobel and as embarrassing as it was, it was somewhat heartening to be on the receiving end of it.

Flint chuckled as he stood, his back instantly grateful to be out of the chair, and he took one last look at Alex before leading the way to the door.

“Text us if you need anything, okay?” Greg placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder as he passed him and squeezed reassuringly.

Michael nodded as he watched them leave, afraid to open his mouth incase no words came out around the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. Having seen the hateful side of the Manes men in action, there was something so heartwarming about seeing Alex’s brothers actually be brothers. And to be included in the familiarity was a whole new feeling entirely.

-

Michael looked out at the stars shining through the window. The lights were still dimmed which allowed the moonlight to fill the room around him with a soft, pale glow.

He still remembered all of the constellations that he had taught himself as a kid, back when he was so desperate to soar high into the sky to join them. Back when he’d give anything to find his home planet again.

But looking into the glimmering darkness now, he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d stared at the night sky in search of the home he was unwillingly torn away from.

In fact he couldn’t quite remember how long it had been since home, for him, had started to be a person again.

Michael made no attempt to stifle a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. They were aching terribly and he could feel his body hopelessly crying for sleep but there was no way he was leaving until Alex was awake.

As if on cue, a small noise from beside him shook him out of his doziness.

He watched Alex’s throat bob as he swallowed reflexively before slowly blinking open his eyes.

“Hey,” Michael whispered. His voice so soft the word barely left his mouth.

Alex’s eyes wandered momentarily, seeking out the owner of the voice. Once his gaze locked with Michael’s, all Alex could do was stare, a small smile emerging as he took in Michael’s presence. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael looked at him tenderly as he leant forward and laced his fingers with Alex’s. A somewhat casually intimate move that he didn’t regret in the slightest. “And so are you.”

Alex looked down at the touch and relished in the warmth of Michael’s skin against his. The act of their hands together feeling so natural.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asked, his tired eyes looking longingly into Alex’s.

“Sore.” Alex replied and Michael couldn’t hold back the huff of laughter.

“Well, that’s what happens when you offer yourself up to be a guinea pig for a crazy psychopath.”

Alex playfully rolled his eyes at the accusation. He could practically feel his head pounding in time with his heart but he did his best to ignore it. He’d willingly accept the throbbing of his muscles and the coldness in his bones right now if it allowed him to just stay in this moment.

A few aches and pains were worth it. He was just glad to be alive.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, enjoying the way the moonlight was shinning on Michael’s curls.

“No, he didn’t touch me.” Michael assured him, “Isobel, Flint and Kyle got us out before he could do anything else.”

“How did they find us?”

“Turns out Sanders was still at the junkyard. Luckily he managed to catch the tail end of our little kidnapping so he called Isobel who called everyone and they spent the entire night trying to figure out who had taken us.”

Michael still couldn’t believe the luck they’d been in that the old man had chosen that night to stay late. They may never have been found if he hadn’t.

“Flint went to the bunker to look for possible alien connections when he found emails between Hughes and your dad. He recognised the name as someone he worked with in Caulfield so he followed the trail and it led him to us.”

Alex added another bullet point to his mental Project Shepard to-do list. If thoroughly digging into every email on the bunker’s computers was what was needed to prevent Michael being targeted again, then so be it.

“Of course he won’t tell me how it led him to us. It seems that’s classified.” Michael brought up the hand not holding Alex’s to do some one-sided air quotes.

“What about Hughes and his men?”

Michael shrugged, “Dealt with, apparently. Your brother is very secretive when he wants to be.”

“Must be a Manes thing.” Alex smirked sleepily.

“They were here earlier by the way. Flint and Gregory. They would have stayed but I used my charm to convince them that you’d much prefer to see my face over their’s any day.”

Michael winked at him and Alex felt butterflies. “Always.”

Michael gazed down at their locked fingers as he slowly ran his thumb up and down in a comforting gesture. He knew what he wanted to say next, but the words just felt so big and he needed to get them right.

“You shouldn’t have protected me like that. And I shouldn’t have let you.” He began sincerely.

“Michael-”

“But I’m grateful that you did.”

Alex’s lips parted but he couldn’t find the right words quick enough.

“We need to talk. Like properly talk. But what happened today, it made me realise how stupid it is to not be honest about how I feel.” Michael looked up and could see how intently Alex was listening. His beautiful brown eyes eager and hopeful.

“I can use as many excuses as I like. How we’re not good for each other. How it’s not our time right now. But you almost died, Alex. And if you had, it would have killed me. And if you had gone not knowing how much I care about you.” Michael shook his head as he looked away. The lump forming in his throat again. “I’m completely and totally in love with you Alex Manes. Always have been, always will. I can’t run away from it anymore and I’m done hiding it.”

Alex bit his lip as he felt the tears start to form in his eyes. He had been waiting to hear those words for so long.

He had been waiting to say them for even longer.

“I’ll never stop protecting you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate that before. I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away in the past and I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready. But I’m ready now.” Alex grinned, almost giddy at the declaration, “I love you Michael Guerin. Always have, always will.”

Michael could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his breath caught in his throat. He pursed his lips in an attempt to curb the ridiculous grin that was threatening to unfurl.

He gently unlaced his fingers, pushed himself out of the chair and leant over to delicately cup Alex’s cheeks, feeling the cool skin under his palms.

As dramatic love declarations go, tonights was pretty remarkable. But maybe it was exactly what they needed. They were here, they were alive and they were in love. That was the truth, spoken aloud with only the stars as their witness and there was no taking it back.

And Michael didn’t want to wait a second longer as he closed his eyes and met Alex’s lips with his own.

It was a gentle kiss. Slow and sweet and just as perfect as he remembered it being.

It was home.

#roswell new mexico #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #alex manes fic #michael guerin fic #malex fic #my fic

[iereiaio]

𝕸𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊

There is no shadow work prompt today, however I will be giving some updates, and then some insight on a reading I had received and then one I just did for myself. They have similar messages but I feel mine is more in depth. I will be separating the topics into sections so you can skip around to what you’d like! 

Updates regarding the Account

I will be trying to post more starting today. I feel as though Haides hasn’t been very happy with me considering my inability to devote ANY time to him, aside from talking to him at night before bed, and sleeping with his altar bag. I feel he’s in the forefront of my mind on most days, but I’ve been lacking the motivation and energy to do anything about it. I am a Priestess. He chose me out of nearly 8 BILLION people in this world. He’s been with me since I was born into this life, as well as all of my previous lives. He has been with me for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I had gotten this confirmed by several readers, and several of my own readings, and I had always had a very strong pull towards him, as well as luck with a lot of things. He’s believed in me for so long, and I can feel his patience in me wearing thin, and it’s a very lonely feeling. He hasn’t pulled back from me, however I just feel like he doesn’t have as much faith in me as he once did. So I will be trying to do shadow work at the very least once a week, but I aim to do 3-6 days a week. So expect more posts with shadow work. I was healing when I was journaling and pulling cards every day. I have been very stagnant lately and I know it’s because I’ve been neglecting my journey of healing, but also my deities and other passions in my life. I know Haides understands, but I also know he wants me to do better and try harder. Even a little bit of effort, I’m sure he will appreciate 

The reading I had received 

I got a reading from a friend today, I pulled it regarding new deities potentially knocking on my spiritual door (I feel as though Lucifer and Lilith are wanting to work with me, but somebody I don’t know said that Lilith told her it was an imposter entity, so I am needing to do some research before confirming or denying that. This reading was supposed to do that, but instead it came for my throat. Anyway, on with the cards:

6 of swords

5 of swords

10 of swords

9 of swords

4 of pentacles

7 of wands

the Hermit

queen of swords  

So into the interpretation, they said I have very little energy (as represented by the 6 of swords), and that Im trying to heal but it’s just really difficult. Any new deities coming into my circle will provide me more energy, but it will “hurt” me a little bit- (represented by the 10 of swords, I am personally believing it may be once I start putting more energy into Haides, I will be getting this newfound energy) And by hurting me, it will be learning lessons. As lessons are often hard to learn. I am represented again in the 9 of swords, being in pain consistently (mentally) but with the 4 of pentacles, Hades will help me step into my personal power, and break free from restrictions i feel financially- but also emotionally. Im being given the opportunity to go forth after the things in life that im passionate about, and i know what im passionate about but i fear both success and failure. The Hermit, which was a funny draw, because Haides uses that card to represent himself in my decks- but I feel alone a lot ofthe time (not a lie anyway lmao), and with the Queen, im being called to action to either step up or get out of the battle. Im being called to be more assertive and call to Haides for the strebgth Im currently lacking. “Embody him so to speak”. They suggested EVOKING Haides, and even INvoking him next. They also said my protections might be weak (hope I don’t regret saying that online)

Now onto my own reading

So, for mine, I did it pretty soon after theirs, since they gave me a bit of clarity on what to look for. As well as insight that Haides wasn’t too happy with me and my depressed shenanigans. While YES hes understanding, and more understanding and patient than many other deities would be, he is still growing impatient with me, considering how little effort im putting into ANYTHING. So with the insight, i decided to do my own pull based ont he reading I had gotten from my friend. The cards I pulled were:

(the first reading was very short and to the point)

Page of Swords 

The Hermit (only to find Haides in the deck)

King of Cups

And in the second reading, which was much longer, I pulled:

Two of Wands

Eight of cups (R)

Four of coins (R)

Seven of cups (R)

Three of coins 

The High Priestess (R)

The Magician (R)

The Fool

Page of Cups

The World

The Artist (unique major arcana card to this deck)

The way that I personally interpret the first reading, is that Haides misses my energy, and would like to help me gain it back, however I need to devote at least some of my energy to him and show him my loyalty to him in order to get that in return. I cannot expect help with healing without giving him anything in return. I need to do better if I want his help. He will be there for me, but he wants me to do better. He wants the best for me. 

As for the second reading, I have some decisions i need to make, i assume about my current artistic path, i will have some career opportunities but i need to work now to get them. My depression and hopelessness is represented by the 8 of cups, ive been in a real bad rut these last couple weeks, moreso in the last few days as some bad, traumatic memories have started to resurface. Haides is reminding me with the 4 of coins to start being more responsible, not only with my money, but with my time. I’ve spent so many days moping in bed, sad, sleeping all day; he wants to help me but he wants me to prove to him that I am devoted to him and my healing journey. He wants me to try, even on hard days. He wants to give me clarity and strength to move forward, but again, wants me to  prove my loyalty to this journey. If i put forth the effort, i will grow and blossom in the ways I need to. I will succeed with him by my side. However I need to be more open with myself, and not allow ignorance to take me off my path. I need to remember that the things that have happened to me, have already happened. And while it’s okay to process and be sad about them, and traumatised (as its as if im living these things for the first time), but I cannot let them ruin my entire day, or multiple days. I cannot let my life waste away because of something bad happening. I need to stop letting insecurities rule my life as well. I’ve noticed when I get insecure about something, I shut down and don’t even complete, or start the project. I need to understand that everything isn’t going to be perfect. Though despite the learning I need to do, I also need to cater to my inner child. I need to hold onto that innocents and free spirit. i need to focus on new beginnings and getting these new things rolling instead of just staring at them hopelessly, letting them intimidate me. I need to dive back into spirituality and again, tend to my inner child. If I can do that, I will be successful and happy; I can be brought to the right path, but I need to get back on the right path. Things are rocky, and it’s gonna be a little weird going backwards so I can get back on the right path, but sometimes it’s necessary. I also believe I will have a lot of success with art. I just need to put my mind to  it and put energy into it. I wont get recognition and success by never drawing or posting. I wont succeed if I don’t put in the work. 

#tarot reading #tarot #hades #haides #hades god #greek god hades #greek god #greek gods #hades priestess #priestess #haides priestess #priestess of hades #growth #healing #journaling

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany’s intelligence, thoughtfulness and overall line of reasoning for taking decisions

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and smart) or aspects of hers that are usually overstated (e.g. that she's ambitious and prophecy-driven).  Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take. (and that's not even considering the double standards and the contradictions with what had been shown from show!Dany up until then, but that's obviously out of the scope of these lists)

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend (or even simply explore different facets of) Dany's character in metas or conversations.

 *Well, at least all the passages that I could find in her chapters, which is no guarantee that the effort was perfectly executed, but I did my best.

Also, people could interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages if they ever attempted to make one, so I'm not saying that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books and use asearchoficeandfire). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully referenced, sometimes not.

I listed the passages back to front because I felt doing so highlighted Dany's evolution better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

Adaptational Badass: Thanks to her being four years older in the show, it is she and not her advisers who come up with the battle plans in Seasons 3 and 4, plus her army does not seem to be on the verge of starving when they reach Meereen; showing her talent for logistics and conquering. (TVTropes)

~

Daenerys is super uncompromising about slavery, which is great, but her moral absolutism undermines her own goals. After conquering Yunkai and Astapor, and freeing their slaves, she peaces out to her next project. Since she never bothers to establish any kind of tenable power structure, they collapse and return to slavery, or similar, as soon as she is gone. (Wisecrack)

~

Daenerys [...] has exactly one strategy, and it’s called, “Yell A Lot and Burn Stuff.” That’s not always a bad strategy. The good ol “yell and burn” has gotten Daenerys out of being kidnapped, snagged her 8,000 Unsullied soldiers, saved Meereen from warships, and earned her the loyalty of the Dothraki not once, but twice. (Wisecrack)

~

Take the Unsullied. They aren’t exactly sellswords when they’re first introduced; they’re slaves. They aren’t fighting for loyalty or religion. However, by freeing them, Daenerys has transformed them from unwilling mercenaries to dedicated soldiers who are now devoted to her cause. So far, they’ve been her best fighters and their leader, Grey Worm, is one of her most trusted advisors. So, while freeing the Unsullied could be just another shining symbol of Daenerys's wokeness, it's also strategic. It’s likely no accident that she leaves the mercenaries in Meereen when she ships off to Westeros with the troops that now very much believe in her. (Wisecrack)

Dany doesn't come up with the battle plans in the books? Dany doesn't establish any kind of tenable power structure (it can be argued that she didn't do enough, but to say she didn't bother is plain wrong)? Dany only wants soldiers devoted to her cause (we even saw that she found treachery convenient in ADWD Dany VIII; besides, that would be dumb because she'd lose lots of men if she acted on that strictly and she's consistenly characterized as someone who listens to several perspectives, which is the opposite of desiring full devotion ... but I digress)? Dany's only strategy is to "Yell A Lot and Burn Stuff"?

I would argue these claims certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but it can be all over the place), so take a look at these passages.

NOTE: to decide which passages to include, I considered parameters such as social intelligence (she can usually read people well and act on that information, which we see from when she executes her plan against the masters in ASOS Dany III to when she notices that Daario didn't know that Quentyn's party was made of knights; there are exceptions, such as in Mirri's case), political awareness (like when she chooses to wear Qartheen gowns in ASOS Dany III and ADWD Dany III to appease Xaro and the masters or when she chooses Strong Belwas instead of the other men to fight against Oznak zo Pahl in ASOS Dany V or when she ponders if marrying Hizdahr will make her lose the Shavepate's support or when she asks Barristan to release Pretty Meris so she can try to obtain the support of Gylo Rhegan and the Tattered Prince for Dany's side because she's distrustful of the Yunkish in ADWD Dany VIII), battle plans (like when she concocts a plan to conquer Yunkai when her opponents least expect it in ASOS Dany IV) or clever associations (like when, even far away from Meereen, she remembers Belwas's physical reaction to the locusts and realizes, by herself, that they were poisoned, and then becomes suspicious of Hizdahr, who offered them to her and later screamed in favor of Drogon's death (she might be wrong in the latter, but she has a good reason to think so) in ADWD Dany X or when she realizes that "they cheer me on the same plaza where I once impaled one hundred sixty-three Great Masters" in ADWD Dany IX or in AGOT Dany I, in which she noticed that using a golden collar made her look like both a princess and one of Khal Drogo's slaves). Magical intuition would also fit, but I made a separate list for that one.

I must note, though, that the point of gathering these passages is not to find moments where Dany necessarily gets things right, but rather, to show that Dany almost always has a set of reasons for making the decisions she does. Even when she makes mistakes (and while her mistakes may have bigger negative effects than most of other characters', it must also be remembered that she makes bigger gambles than most), it can't be said that she was reckless, but rather that she lacked information or experience.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

Two days ago, climbing on a spire of rock, she had spied water to the south, a slender thread that glittered briefly as the sun was going down. A stream, Dany decided. Small, but it would lead her to a larger stream, and that stream would flow into some little river, and all the rivers in this part of the world were vassals of the Skahazadhan. Once she found the Skahazadhan she need only follow it downstream to Slaver’s Bay.

~

As the world darkened, Dany settled in and closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. The night was cold, the ground hard, her belly empty. She found herself thinking of Meereen, of Daario, her love, and Hizdahr, her husband, of Irri and Jhiqui and sweet Missandei, Ser Barristan and Reznak and Skahaz Shavepate. Do they fear me dead? I flew off on a dragon’s back. Will they think he ate me? She wondered if Hizdahr was still king. His crown had come from her, could he hold it in her absence? He wanted Drogon dead. I heard him. “Kill it,” he screamed, “kill the beast,” and the look upon his face was lustful. And Strong Belwas had been on his knees, heaving and shuddering. Poison. It had to be poison. The honeyed locusts. Hizdahr urged them on me, but Belwas ate them all. She had made Hizdahr her king, taken him into her bed, opened the fighting pits for him, he had no reason to want her dead. Yet who else could it have been? Reznak, her perfumed seneschal? The Yunkai’i? The Sons of the Harpy?

~

She would have slept beside the water if she dared, but there were animals who came down to the stream to drink at night. She had seen their tracks. Dany would make a poor meal for a wolf or lion, but even a poor meal was better than none.

~

She fumbled in the water, found a stone the size of her fist, pulled it from the mud. It was a poor weapon but better than an empty hand.

~

In a dozen heartbeats they were past the Dothraki, as he galloped far below. To the right and left, Dany glimpsed places where the grass was burned and ashen. Drogon has come this way before, she realized. Like a chain of grey islands, the marks of his hunting dotted the green grass sea.

ADWD Daenerys IX

“Half of these Brazen Beasts are untried freedmen.” And the other half are Meereenese of doubtful loyalty, he left unsaid. Selmy mistrusted all the Meereenese, even shavepates.

~

How queer, the queen thought. They cheer me on the same plaza where I once impaled one hundred sixty-three Great Masters.

~

Across the pit the Graces sat in flowing robes of many colors, clustered around the austere figure of Galazza Galare, who alone amongst them wore the green. The Great Masters of Meereen occupied the red and orange benches. The women were veiled, and the men had brushed and lacquered their hair into horns and hands and spikes. Hizdahr’s kin of the ancient line of Loraq seemed to favor tokars of purple and indigo and lilac, whilst those of Pahl were striped in pink and white. The envoys from Yunkai were all in yellow and filled the box beside the king’s, each of them with his slaves and servants. Meereenese of lesser birth crowded the upper tiers, more distant from the carnage. The black and purple benches, highest and most distant from the sand, were crowded with freedmen and other common folk. The sellswords had been placed up there as well, Daenerys saw, their captains seated right amongst the common soldiers. She spied Brown Ben’s weathered face and Bloodbeard’s fiery red whiskers and long braids.

~

Barsena’s blade was running red, but the boar soon stopped. He is smarter than a bull, Dany realized. He will not charge again.

~

“Magnificence, the people of Meereen have come to celebrate our union. You heard them cheering you. Do not cast away their love.”

“It was my floppy ears they cheered, not me. Take me from this abbatoir, husband.”

ADWD Daenerys VIII

“Is there some man in the Second Sons who might be persuaded to … remove … Brown Ben?”

“As Daario Naharis once removed the other captains of the Stormcrows?” The old knight looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps. I would not know, Your Grace.”

No, she thought, you are too honest and too honorable. “If not, the Yunkai’i employ three other companies.”

“Rogues and cutthroats, scum of a hundred battlefields,” Ser Barristan warned, “with captains full as treacherous as Plumm.”

“I am only a young girl and know little of such things, but it seems to me that we want them to be treacherous. Once, you’ll recall, I convinced the Second Sons and Stormcrows to join us.”

“If Your Grace wishes a privy word with Gylo Rhegan or the Tattered Prince, I could bring them up to your apartments.”

“This is not the time. Too many eyes, too many ears. Their absence would be noted even if you could separate them discreetly from the Yunkai’i. We must find some quieter way of reaching out to them … not tonight, but soon.”

[...] “Our prisoners,” suggested Dany. “The Westerosi who came over from the Windblown with the three Dornishmen. We still have them in cells, do we not? Use them.”

“Free them, you mean? Is that wise? They were sent here to worm their way into your trust, so they might betray Your Grace at the first chance.”

[...] “We can still use them. One was a woman. Meris. Send her back, as a … a gesture of my regard. If their captain is a clever man, he will understand.”

“The woman is the worst of all.”

“All the better.” Dany considered a moment. “We should sound out the Long Lances too. And the Company of the Cat.”

“Bloodbeard.” Ser Barristan’s frown deepened. “If it please Your Grace, we want no part of him. Your Grace is too young to remember the Ninepenny Kings, but this Bloodbeard is cut from the same savage cloth. There is no honor in him, only hunger … for gold, for glory, for blood.”

“You know more of such men than me, ser.” If Bloodbeard might be truly the most dishonorable and greedy of the sellswords, he might be the easiest to sway, but she was loath to go against Ser Barristan’s counsel in such matters. “Do as you think best. But do it soon. If Hizdahr’s peace should break, I want to be ready. I do not trust the slavers.” I do not trust my husband. “They will turn on us at the first sign of weakness.”

[...] [“]Set Pretty Meris free. At once.”

~

Her king was laughing with Yurkhaz zo Yunzak and the other Yunkish lords. Dany did not think that he would miss her, but just in case she instructed her handmaids to tell him that she was answering a call of nature, should he inquire after her.

~

Martell’s square face was flushed and ruddy. Too much wine, the queen concluded, though he was doing his best to conceal that.

~

“The dragon has three heads,” Dany said when they were on the final flight. “My marriage need not be the end of all your hopes. I know why you are here.”

“For you,” said Quentyn, all awkward gallantry.

“No,” said Dany. “For fire and blood.”

~

“You … you mean to ride them?”

“One of them. All I know of dragons is what my brother told me when I was a girl, and some I read in books, but it is said that even Aegon the Conqueror never dared mount Vhagar or Meraxes, nor did his sisters ride Balerion the Black Dread. Dragons live longer than men, some for hundreds of years, so Balerion had other riders after Aegon died … but no rider ever flew two dragons.”

~

He does not belong here. He should never have come. “You ought to return there. My court is no safe place for you, I fear. You have more enemies than you know. You made Daario look a fool, and he is not a man to forget such a slight.”

“I have my knights. My sworn shields.”

“Two knights. Daario has five hundred Stormcrows. And you would do well to beware of my lord husband too. He seems a mild and pleasant man, I know, but do not be deceived. Hizdahr’s crown derives from mine, and he commands the allegiance of some of the most fearsome fighters in the world. If one of them should think to win his favor by disposing of a rival …”

“I am a prince of Dorne, Your Grace. I will not run from slaves and sell swords.”

Then you truly are a fool, Prince Frog.

ADWD Daenerys VII

It was close to sunset before Daario Naharis appeared with his new Stormcrows, the Westerosi who had come over to him from the Windblown. Dany found herself glancing at them as yet another petitioner droned on and on. These are my people. I am their rightful queen. They seemed a scruffy bunch, but that was only to be expected of sellswords. The youngest could not have been more than a year older than her; the oldest must have seen sixty namedays. A few sported signs of wealth: gold arm rings, silken tunics, silverstudded sword belts. Plunder. For the most part, their clothes were plainly made and showed signs of hard wear.

~

“If it please Your Grace, we are all three knights.”

Dany glanced at Daario and saw anger flash across his face. He did not know. “I have need of knights,” she said.

~

“Three liars,” Daario said darkly. “They deceived me.”

“And bought you too, I do not doubt.” He did not trouble to deny it.

ADWD Daenerys VI

“Irri, bring the green tokar, the silk one fringed with Myrish lace.”

“That one is being repaired, Khaleesi. The lace was torn. The blue tokar has been cleaned.”

“Blue, then. They will be just as pleased.”

She was only half-wrong. The priestess and the seneschal were happy to see her garbed in a tokar, a proper Meereenese lady for once, but what they really wanted was to strip her bare.

ADWD Daenerys V

Ser Barristan remained. “Our stores are ample for the moment,” he reminded her, “and Your Grace has planted beans and grapes and wheat. Your Dothraki have harried the slavers from the hills and struck the shackles from their slaves. They are planting too, and will be bringing their crops to Meereen to market. And you will have the friendship of Lhazar.”

~

Skahaz was convinced that somewhere in Meereen the Sons of the Harpy had a highborn overlord, a secret general commanding an army of shadows. Dany did not share his belief. The Brazen Beasts had taken dozens of the Harpy’s Sons, and those who had survived their capture had yielded names when questioned sharply … too many names, it seemed to her. It would have been pleasant to think that all the deaths were the work of a single enemy who might be caught and killed, but Dany suspected that the truth was otherwise. My enemies are legion. “Hizdahr zo Loraq is a persuasive man with many friends. And he is wealthy. Perhaps he has bought this peace for us with gold, or convinced the other highborn that our marriage is in their best interests.”

~

“It is good that you have come,” she told the Astapori. “You will be safe in Meereen.”

The cobbler thanked her for that, and the old brickmaker kissed her foot, but the weaver looked at her with eyes as hard as slate. She knows I lie, the queen thought. She knows I cannot keep them safe. Astapor is burning, and Meereen is next.

~

“What do you counsel, ser?”

“Battle,” said Ser Barristan. “Meereen is overcrowded and full of hungry mouths, and you have too many enemies within. We cannot long withstand a siege, I fear. Let me meet the foe as he comes north, on ground of my own choosing.”

“Meet the foe,” she echoed, “with the freedmen you’ve called half-trained and unblooded.”

“We were all unblooded once, Your Grace. The Unsullied will help stiffen them. If I had five hundred knights …”

“Or five. And if I give you the Unsullied, I will have no one but the Brazen Beasts to hold Meereen.”

[...] “I cannot fight two enemies, one within and one without. If I am to hold Meereen, I must have the city behind me. The whole city. I need … I need …” She could not say it.

“Your Grace?” Ser Barristan prompted, gently.

A queen belongs not to herself but to her people.

“I need Hizdahr zo Loraq.”

ADWD Daenerys IV

If I wed Hizdahr, will that turn Skahaz against me? She trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr, but the Shavepate would be a disaster as a king. He was too quick to anger, too slow to forgive. She saw no gain in wedding a man as hated as herself. Hizdahr was well respected, so far as she could see.

~

“You know why you are here. The Green Grace seems to feel that if I take you for my husband, all my woes will vanish.”

“I would never make so bold a claim. Men are born to strive and suffer. Our woes only vanish when we die. I can be of help to you, however. I have gold and friends and influence, and the blood of Old Ghis flows in my veins. Though I have never wed, I have two natural children, a boy and a girl, so I can give you heirs. I can reconcile the city to your rule and put an end to this nightly slaughter in the streets.”

“Can you?” Dany studied his eyes. “Why should the Sons of the Harpy lay down their knives for you? Are you one of them?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if you were?”

He laughed. “No.”

~

The Shavepate will not be happy with me, but Reznak mo Reznak will dance for joy. Dany did not know which of those concerned her more. She needed Skahaz and the Brazen Beasts, and she had come to mistrust all of Reznak’s counsel. Beware the perfumed seneschal. Has Reznak made common cause with Hizdahr and the Green Grace and set some trap to snare me?

~

“Ninety days is a long time. Hizdahr may fail. And if he does, the trying buys me time. Time to make alliances, to strengthen my defenses, to—”

“And if he does not fail? What will Your Grace do then?”

“Her duty.”

~

Daario. Her heart gave a flutter in her chest. “How long has … when did he …?” She could not seem to get the words out.

Ser Barristan seemed to understand.

~

“... a dozen of the Long Lances decided they would sooner be Stormcrows than corpses, so we came out three ahead. I told them they would live longer fighting with your dragons than against them, and they saw the wisdom in my words.”

That made her wary. “They might be spying for Yunkai.”

ADWD Daenerys III

Reznak mo Reznak’s mouth was open, and his lips glistened wetly as he watched. Hizdahr zo Loraq was saying something to the man beside him, yet all the time his eyes were on the dancing girls. The Shavepate’s ugly, oily face was as stern as ever, but he missed nothing.

It was harder to know what her honored guest was dreaming.

~

In his honor Daenerys had donned a Qartheen gown, a sheer confection of violet samite cut so as to leave her left breast bare. Her silver-gold hair brushed lightly over her shoulder, falling almost to her nipple. Half the men in the hall had stolen glances at her, but not Xaro. It was the same in Qarth. She could not sway the merchant prince that way. Sway him I must, however.

~

“I am glad you came to me. It is good to see your face again, my friend.” I will not trust you, but I need you. I need your Thirteen, I need your ships, I need your trade.

~

In Qarth, you had three bloodriders who never left your side. Wherever have they gone?”

“Aggo, Jhoqo, and Rakharo still serve me.” He is playing games with me. Dany could play as well.

~

Dany knew him too well to be moved. Qartheen men could weep at will. “Oh, stop that.” She took a cherry from the bowl on the table and threw it at his nose. “I may be a young girl, but I am not so foolish as to wed a man who finds a fruit platter more enticing than my breast. I saw which dancers you were watching.”

~

“[...] A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water.”

“[...] Meereen needs beans more than it needs rare spices, and beans require water.”

~

“...The ships are yours, sweet queen. Thirteen galleys, and men to pull the oars.”

Thirteen. To be sure. Xaro was one of the Thirteen. No doubt he had convinced each of his fellow members to give up one ship. She knew the merchant prince too well to think that he would sacrifice thirteen of his own ships. “I must consider this. May I inspect these ships?”

“You have grown suspicious, Daenerys.”

Always. “I have grown wise, Xaro.”

~

“for young and strong as you now seem, you shall not live so long. Not here.”

He offers the honeycomb with one hand and shows the whip with the other. “The Yunkai’i are not so fearsome as all that.”  

~

“Some other night.” His mouth was sad, but his eyes seemed more relieved than disappointed.

~

“A map? It is beautiful.” It covered half the floor. The seas were blue, the lands were green, the mountains black and brown. Cities were shown as stars in gold or silver thread. There is no Smoking Sea, she realized. Valyria is not yet an island.

~

“...Take these ships and sail away, or you will surely die screaming. You cannot know how many enemies you have made.”

I know one stands before me now, weeping mummer’s tears. The realization made her sad.

~

The next morning Xaro’s galleas was gone, but the “gift” that he had brought her remained behind in Slaver’s Bay. Long red streamers flew from the masts of the thirteen Qartheen galleys, writhing in the wind. And when Daenerys descended to hold court, a messenger from the ships awaited her. He spoke no word but laid at her feet a black satin pillow, upon which rested a single bloodstained glove.

“What is this?” Skahaz demanded. “A bloody glove …”

“… means war,” said the queen.

ADWD Daenerys II

“I will have no more Unsullied slaughtered. Grey Worm, pull your men back to their barracks. Henceforth let them guard my walls and gates and person. From this day, it shall be for Meereenese to keep the peace in Meereen. Skahaz, make me a new watch, made up in equal parts of shavepates and freedmen.”

“As you command. How many men?”

“As many as you require.”

Reznak mo Reznak gasped. “Magnificence, where is the coin to come from to pay wages for so many men?”

“From the pyramids. Call it a blood tax. I will have a hundred pieces of gold from every pyramid for each freedman that the Harpy’s Sons have slain.”

That brought a smile to the Shavepate’s face. “It will be done,” he said, “but Your Radiance should know that the Great Masters of Zhak and Merreq are making preparations to quit their pyramids and leave the city.”

Daenerys was sick unto death of Zhak and Merreq; she was sick of all the Mereenese, great and small alike. “Let them go, but see that they take no more than the clothes upon their backs. Make certain that all their gold remains here with us. Their stores of food as well.”

~

Her name had been Hazzea. She was four years old. Unless her father lied. He might have lied. No one had seen the dragon but him. His proof was burned bones, but burned bones proved nothing. He might have killed the little girl himself, and burned her afterward. He would not have been the first father to dispose of an unwanted girl child, the Shavepate claimed. The Sons of the Harpy might have done it, and made it look like dragon’s work to make the city hate me. Dany wanted to believe that … but if that was so, why had Hazzea’s father waited until the audience hall was almost empty to come forward? If his purpose had been to inflame the Meereenese against her, he would have told his tale when the hall was full of ears to hear.

ADWD Daenerys I

“Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation ... not to unravel secrets or ask questions.”

“Would knights serve me any better?” Selmy was training knights for her, teaching the sons of slaves to fight with lance and longsword in the Westerosi fashion ... but what good would lances do against cowards who killed from the shadows?

“Not in this,” the old man admitted. “And Your Grace has no knights, save me. It will be years before the boys are ready.”

“Then who, if not Unsullied? Dothraki would be even worse.” Dothraki fought from horseback. Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city.

~

Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need … but the Lamb Men had no reason to love Meereen. “When the Stormcrows return from Lhazar, perhaps I can use them in the streets,” she told Ser Barristan, “but until then I have only the Unsullied.”

~

Dragons are fire made flesh. She had read that in one of the books Ser Jorah had given her as a wedding gift. 

~

By shaving, Skahaz had put old Meereen behind him to accept the new, and his kin had done the same after his example. Others followed, though whether from fear, fashion, or ambition, Dany could not say; shavepates, they were called.

~

I need this man, Dany reminded herself. Hizdahr was a wealthy merchant with many friends in Meereen, and more across the seas. He had visited Volantis, Lys, and Qarth, had kin in Tolos and Elyria, and was even said to wield some influence in New Ghis, where the Yunkai’i were trying to stir up enmity against Dany and her rule.

And he was rich. Famously and fabulously rich ...

And like to grow richer, if I grant his petition. When Dany had closed the city’s fighting pits, the value of pit shares had plummeted. Hizdahr zo Loraq had grabbed them up with both hands, and now owned most of the fighting pits in Meereen.

The nobleman had wings of wiry red-black hair sprouting from his temples. They made him look as if his head were about to take flight. His long face was made even longer by a beard bound with rings of gold. His purple tokar was fringed with amethysts and pearls.

~

“If Your Majesty will hear my arguments ...”

“I have. Five times. Have you brought new arguments?”

“Old arguments,” Hizdahr admitted, “new words. Lovely words, and courteous, more apt to move a queen.”

“It is your cause I find wanting, not your courtesies. I have heard your arguments so often I could plead your case myself. Shall I?” Dany leaned forward. “The fighting pits have been a part of Meereen since the city was founded. The combats are profoundly religious in nature, a blood sacrifice to the gods of Ghis. The mortal art of Ghis is not mere butchery but a display of courage, skill, and strength most pleasing to your gods. Victorious fighters are pampered and acclaimed, and the slain are honored and remembered. By reopening the pits I would show the people of Meereen that I respect their ways and customs. The pits are far-famed across the world. They draw trade to Meereen, and fill the city’s coffers with coin from the ends of the earth. All men share a taste for blood, a taste the pits help slake. In that way they make Meereen more tranquil. For criminals condemned to die upon the sands, the pits represent a judgment by battle, a last chance for a man to prove his innocence.” She leaned back again, with a toss of her head. “There. How have I done?”

“Your Radiance has stated the case much better than I could have hoped to do myself. I see that you are eloquent as well as beautiful. I am quite persuaded.”

She had to laugh. “Ah, but I am not.”

~

“Your Magnificence,” whispered Reznak mo Reznak in her ear, “it is customary for the city to claim one-tenth of all the profits from the fighting pits, after expenses, as a tax. That coin might be put to many noble uses.” 

 “It might … though if we were to reopen the pits, we should take our tenth before expenses. I am only a young girl and know little of such matters, but I dwelt with Xaro Xhoan Daxos long enough to learn that much. Hizdahr, if you could marshal armies as you marshal arguments, you could conquer the world … but my answer is still no. For the sixth time.”

~

She nibbled whilst she listened, and sipped from a cup of watered wine. The figs were fine, the olives even finer, but the wine left a tart metallic aftertaste in her mouth. The small pale yellow grapes native to these regions produced a notably inferior vintage. We shall have no trade in wine. Besides, the Great Masters had burned the best arbors along with the olive trees. 

~

“Three-and-twenty.” Dany sighed. “My dragons have developed a prodigious taste for mutton since we began to pay the shepherds for their kills. Have these claims been proven?” 

“Some men have brought burnt bones.” 

“Men make fires. Men cook mutton. Burnt bones prove nothing. Brown Ben says there are red wolves in the hills outside the city, and jackals and wild dogs. Must we pay good silver for every lamb that goes astray between Yunkai and the Skahazadhan?” 

“No, Magnificence.” Reznak bowed. “Shall I send these rascals away, or will you want them scourged?” 

Daenerys shifted on the bench. “No man should ever fear to come to me.” Some claims were false, she did not doubt, but more were genuine. Her dragons had grown too large to be content with rats and cats and dogs. The more they eat, the larger they will grow, Ser Barristan had warned her, and the larger they grow, the more they’ll eat. Drogon especially ranged far afield and could easily devour a sheep a day. “Pay them for the value of their animals,” she told Reznak, “but henceforth claimants must present themselves at the Temple of the Graces and swear a holy oath before the gods of Ghis.”

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day. Poor Groleo. He still grieved for his ship, she knew. If a war galley could ram another ship, why not a gate? That had been her thought when she commanded the captains to drive their ships ashore. Their masts had become her battering rams, and swarms of freedmen had torn their hulls apart to build mantlets, turtles, catapults, and ladders. The sellwords had given each ram a bawdy name, and it had been the mainmast of Meraxes—formerly Joso’s Prank—that had broken the eastern gate. Joso’s Cock, they called it. The fighting had raged bitter and bloody for most of a day and well into the night before the wood began to splinter and Meraxes’ iron figurehead, a laughing jester’s face, came crashing through.

Dany had wanted to lead the attack herself, but to a man her captains said that would be madness, and her captains never agreed on anything. Instead she remained in the rear, sitting atop her silver in a long shirt of mail. She heard the city fall from half a league away, though, when the defenders’ shouts of defiance changed to cries of fear. Her dragons had roared as one in that moment, filling the night with flame. The slaves are rising, she knew at once. My sewer rats have gnawed off their chains.

When the last resistance had been crushed by the Unsullied and the sack had run its course, Dany entered her city. The dead were heaped so high before the broken gate that it took her freedmen near an hour to make a path for her silver. Joso’s Cock and the great wooden turtle that had protected it, covered with horsehides, lay abandoned within. She rode past burned buildings and broken windows, through brick streets where the gutters were choked with the stiff and swollen dead. Cheering slaves lifted bloodstained hands to her as she went by, and called her “Mother.”

~

Meereen had been sacked savagely, as new-fallen cities always were, but Dany was determined that should end now that the city was hers. She had decreed that murderers were to be hanged, that looters were to lose a hand, and rapists their manhood. Eight killers swung from the walls, and the Unsullied had filled a bushel basket with bloody hands and soft red worms, but Meereen was calm again. But for how long?

~

“It shall be done as you command, glorious queen,” said Daario. “My Stormcrows will collect your tenth.” If the Stormcrows saw to the collections at least half the gold would somehow go astray, Dany knew. But the Second Sons were just as bad, and the Unsullied were as unlettered as they were incorruptible. “Records must be kept,” she said. “Seek among the freedmen for men who can read, write, and do sums.” 

~

While Joso’s Cock and the other rams were battering the city gates and her archers were firing flights of flaming arrows over the walls, Dany had sent two hundred men along the river under cover of darkness to fire the hulks in the harbor. But that was only to hide their true purpose. As the flaming ships drew the eyes of the defenders on the walls, a few half- mad swimmers found the sewer mouths and pried loose a rusted iron grating. Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan, Strong Belwas, and twenty brave fools slipped beneath the brown water and up the brick tunnel, a mixed force of sellswords, Unsullied, and freedmen. Dany had told them to choose only men who had no families ... and preferably no sense of smell.

~

“You are trembling, Khaleesi,” the girl said as she knelt to lace up Dany’s sandals.

“I’m cold,” Dany lied. “Bring me the book I was reading last night.” She wanted to lose herself in the words, in other times and other places. The fat leather-bound volume was full of songs and stories from the Seven Kingdoms. Children’s stories, if truth be told; too simple and fanciful to be true history. All the heroes were tall and handsome, and you could tell the traitors by their shifty eyes. Yet she loved them all the same. Last night she had been reading of the three princesses in the red tower, locked away by the king for the crime of being beautiful.

ASOS Daenerys V

Her bloodriders were in such a fever to go meet him that they almost came to blows. “Blood of my blood,” Dany told them, “your place is here by me. This man is a buzzing fly, no more. Ignore him, he will soon be gone.” Aggo, Jhogo, and Rakharo were brave warriors, but they were young, and too valuable to risk. They kept her khalasar together, and were her best scouts too.

~

Meereen posed dangers far more serious than one pink-and-white hero shouting insults, and she could not let herself be distracted. Her host numbered more than eighty thousand after Yunkai, but fewer than a quarter of them were soldiers. The rest ... well, Ser Jorah called them mouths with feet, and soon they would be starving.

~

They watched Oznak zo Pahl dismount his white charger, undo his robes, pull out his manhood, and direct a stream of urine in the general direction of the olive grove where Dany’s gold pavilion stood among the burnt trees. He was still pissing when Daario Naharis rode up, arakh in hand. “Shall I cut that off for you and stuff it down his mouth, Your Grace?” His tooth shone gold amidst the blue of his forked beard.

“It’s his city I want, not his meager manhood.” She was growing angry, however. If I ignore this any longer, my own people will think me weak. Yet who could she send? She needed Daario as much as she did her bloodriders. Without the flamboyant Tyroshi, she had no hold on the Stormcrows, many of whom had been followers of Prendahl na Ghezn and Sallor the Bald.

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates.

“This challenge must be met,” Arstan said again.

“It will be.” Dany said, as the hero tucked his penis away again. “Tell Strong Belwas I have need of him.”

[...] “Why that one, Khaleesi?” Rakharo demanded of her. “He is fat and stupid.”

“Strong Belwas was a slave here in the fighting pits. If this highborn Oznak should fall to such the Great Masters will be shamed, while if he wins ... well, it is a poor victory for one so noble, one that Meereen can take no pride in.” And unlike Ser Jorah, Daario, Brown Ben, and her three bloodriders, the eunuch did not lead troops, plan battles, or give her counsel. He does nothing but eat and boast and bellow at Arstan. Belwas was the man she could most easily spare. And it was time she learned what sort of protector Magister Illyrio had sent her.

~

“We should have given him chainmail,” Dany said, suddenly anxious.

“Mail would only slow him,” said Ser Jorah. “They wear no armor in the fighting pits. It’s blood the crowds come to see.”

~

Oznak zo Pahl charged a third time, and now Dany could see plainly that he was riding past Belwas, the way a Westerosi knight might ride at an opponent in a tilt, rather than at him, like a Dothraki riding down a foe.

~

“Given time, we might be able to mine beneath a tower and make a breach, but what do we eat while we’re digging? Our stores are all but exhausted.”

“No weakness in the landward walls?” said Dany. Meereen stood on a jut of sand and stone where the slow brown Skahazadhan flowed into Slaver’s Bay. The city’s north wall ran along the riverbank, its west along the bay shore. “Does that mean we might attack from the river or the sea?”

“With three ships? We’ll want to have Captain Groleo take a good look at the wall along the river, but unless it’s crumbling that’s just a wetter way to die.”

“What if we were to build siege towers? My brother Viserys told tales of such, I know they can be made.”

“From wood, Your Grace,” Ser Jorah said. “The slavers have burnt every tree within twenty leagues of here.[”]

~

“These sewers do not sound promising.” Grey Worm would lead his Unsullied down the sewers if she commanded it, she knew; her bloodriders would do no less. But none of them was suited to the task. The Dothraki were horsemen, and the strength of the Unsullied was their discipline on the battlefield. Can I send men to die in the dark on such a slender hope?

~

“Where shall we go, Your Grace?”

“To hell, to serve King Robert.” Dany felt hot tears on her cheeks. [...] “You go ...” [...] “You go ... go ...” Where?

And then she knew.

ASOS Daenerys IV

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. "Five thousand," she said after a moment.

~

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered. “The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

“As you wish,” Ser Jorah said. “But if they do not come—”

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.”

~

“You took Astapor by treachery, but Yunkai shall not fall so easily.”

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.”

“The Stormcrows do not stand alone,” said Prendahl.

“Stormcrows do not stand at all. They fly, at the first sign of thunder. Perhaps you should be flying now. I have heard that sellswords are notoriously unfaithful. What will it avail you to be staunch, when the Second Sons change sides?”

“That will not happen,” Prendahl insisted, unmoved. “And if it did, it would not matter. The Second Sons are nothing. We fight beside the stalwart men of Yunkai.”

“You fight beside bed-boys armed with spears.” When she turned her head, the twin bells in her braid rang softly. “Once battle is joined, do not think to ask for quarter. Join me now, however, and you shall keep the gold the Yunkai’i paid you and claim a share of the plunder besides, with greater rewards later when I come into my kingdom. Fight for the Wise Masters, and your wages will be death. Do you imagine that Yunkai will open its gates when my Unsullied are butchering you beneath the walls?”

“Woman, you bray like an ass, and make no more sense.”

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

~

“What say you take those clothes off and come sit on my lap? If you please me, I might bring the Second Sons over to your side.”

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.”

The big man laughed. “Little girl, another woman once tried to geld me with her teeth. She has no teeth now, but my sword is as long and thick as ever. Shall I take it out and show you?”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.” Dany took a sip of wine. “It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and won.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

“That was many and more years ago, before the Second Sons were led by the Titan’s Bastard.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

~

Dany seated herself on a mound of cushions to await them, her dragons all about her. When they were assembled, she said, “An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?”

“To mount our attack.”

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

“I think you are Rhaegar Targaryen’s sister,” Ser Jorah said with a rueful half smile.

“Aye,” said Arstan Whitebeard, “and a queen as well.”    

~

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

~

Dany was dubious. If this Tyroshi had come to spy, this declaration might be no more than a desperate plot to save his head.

~

“Keep this one here under guard until the battle’s fought and won.”

She considered a moment, then shook her head. “If he can give us the Stormcrows, surprise is certain.”

“And if he betrays you, surprise is lost.”

Dany looked down at the sellsword again. He gave her such a smile that she flushed and turned away. “He won’t.”

“How can you know that?”

She pointed to the lumps of blackened flesh the dragons were consuming, bite by bloody bite. “I would call that proof of his sincerity. Daario Naharis, have your Stormcrows ready to strike the Yunkish rear when my attack begins. Can you get back safely?”

“If they stop me, I will say I have been scouting, and saw nothing.” The Tyroshi rose to his feet, bowed, and swept out.

~

The exile knight went to one knee before Dany and said, “Your Grace, I bring you victory. The Stormcrows turned their cloaks, the slaves broke, and the Second Sons were too drunk to fight, just as you said. Two hundred dead, Yunkai’i for the most part. Their slaves threw down their spears and ran, and their sellswords yielded. We have several thousand captives.”

“Our own losses?”

“A dozen. If that many.”

Only then did she allow herself to smile.

ASOS Daenerys III

She had chosen a Qartheen gown today. The deep violet silk brought out the purple of her eyes. The cut of it bared her left breast. While the Good Masters of Astapor conferred among themselves in low voices, Dany sipped tart persimmon wine from a tall silver flute. She could not quite make out all that they were saying, but she could hear the greed.

Each of the eight brokers was attended by two or three body slaves ... though one Grazdan, the eldest, had six. So as not to seem a beggar, Dany had brought her own attendants; Irri and Jhiqui in their sandsilk trousers and painted vests, old Whitebeard and mighty Belwas, her bloodriders. Ser Jorah stood behind her sweltering in his green surcoat with the black bear of Mormont embroidered upon it. The smell of his sweat was an earthy answer to the sweet perfumes that drenched the Astapori.

~

Dany let them argue, sipping the tart persimmon wine and trying to keep her face blank and ignorant. I will have them all, no matter the price, she told herself. The city had a hundred slave traders, but the eight before her were the greatest. When selling bed slaves, fieldhands, scribes, craftsmen, and tutors, these men were rivals, but their ancestors had allied one with the other for the purpose of making and selling the Unsullied. Brick and blood built Astapor, and brick and blood her people.

~

“Tell them I await their answer.”

She knew the answer, though; she could see it in the glitter of their eyes and the smiles they tried so hard to hide. Astapor had thousands of eunuchs, and even more slave boys waiting to be cut, but there were only three living dragons in all the great wide world. And the Ghiscari lust for dragons. How could they not? Five times had Old Ghis contended with Valyria when the world was young, and five times gone down to bleak defeat. For the Freehold had dragons, and the Empire had none.

~

Dany turned away from him, to the slave girl standing meekly beside her litter. “Do you have a name, or must you draw a new one every day from some barrel?”

“That is only for Unsullied,” the girl said. Then she realized the question had been asked in High Valyrian. Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”

~

“If I did resell them, how would I know they could not be used against me?” Dany asked pointedly. “Would they do that? Fight against me, even do me harm?”

“If their master commanded. They do not question, Your Grace. All the questions have been culled from them. They obey.” She looked troubled. “When you are ... when you are done with them ... your Grace might command them to fall upon their swords.”

“And even that, they would do?”


“Yes.” Missandei’s voice had grown soft. “Your Grace.”

Dany squeezed her hand. “You would sooner I did not ask it of them, though. Why is that? Why do you care?”

“This one does not ... I ... Your Grace ... ”


“Tell me.”


The girl lowered her eyes. “Three of them were my brothers once, Your Grace.”

Then I hope your brothers are as brave and clever as you.

~

The rest of her people followed: Groleo and the other captains and their crews, and the eighty-three Dothraki who remained to her of the hundred thousand who had once ridden in Drogo’s khalasar. She put the oldest and weakest on the inside of the column, with the nursing women and those with child, and the little girls, and the boys too young to braid their hair. The rest—her warriors, such as they were—rode outside and moved their dismal herd along, the hundred-odd gaunt horses that had survived both red waste and black salt sea.

~

I ought to have a banner sewn, she thought as she led her tattered band up along Astapor’s meandering river. She closed her eyes to imagine how it would look: all flowing black silk, and on it the red three-headed dragon of Targaryen, breathing golden flames. A banner such as Rhaegar might have borne.

~

At first glimpse, Dany thought their skin was striped like the zorses of the Jogos Nhai.

~

Dany handed the slaver the end of Drogon’s chain. In return he presented her with the whip. The handle was black dragonbone, elaborately carved and inlaid with gold. Nine long thin leather lashes trailed from it, each one tipped by a gilded claw. The gold pommel was a woman’s head, with pointed ivory teeth. “The harpy’s fingers,” Kraznys named the scourge.

Dany turned the whip in her hand. Such a light thing, to bear such weight. “Is it done, then? Do they belong to me?”

“It is done,” he agreed, giving the chain a sharp pull to bring Drogon down from the litter.

Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper’s host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind.

She stood in her stirrups and raised the harpy’s fingers above her head for all the Unsullied to see. “IT IS DONE!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “YOU ARE MINE!” She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. “YOU ARE THE DRAGON’S NOW! YOU’RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!”

She glimpsed old Grazdan turn his grey head sharply. He hears me speak Valyrian. The other slavers were not listening. They crowded around Kraznys and the dragon, shouting advice. Though the Astapori yanked and tugged, Drogon would not budge off the litter. Smoke rose grey from his open jaws, and his long neck curled and straightened as he snapped at the slaver’s face.

It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back. Her bloodriders moved in close around her. “You are in difficulty,” she observed.

“He will not come,” Kraznys said.

“There is a reason. A dragon is no slave.” And Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy’s fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.”

The black dragon spread his wings and roared.

A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head. The sudden stench of charred meat overwhelmed even his perfume, and his wail seemed to drown all other sound.

Then the Plaza of Punishment blew apart into blood and chaos. The Good Masters were shrieking, stumbling, shoving one another aside and tripping over the fringes of their tokars in their haste. Drogon flew almost lazily at Kraznys, black wings beating. As he gave the slaver another taste of fire, Irri and Jhiqui unchained Viserion and Rhaegal, and suddenly there were three dragons in the air. When Dany turned to look, a third of Astapor’s proud demon-horned warriors were fighting to stay atop their terrified mounts, and another third were fleeing in a bright blaze of shiny copper. One man kept his saddle long enough to draw a sword, but Jhogo’s whip coiled about his neck and cut off his shout. Another lost a hand to Rakharo’s arakh and rode off reeling and spurting blood. Aggo sat calmly notching arrows to his bowstring and sending them at tokars. Silver, gold, or plain, he cared nothing for the fringe. Strong Belwas had his arakh out as well, and he spun it as he charged.

“Spears!” Dany heard one Astapori shout. It was Grazdan, old Grazdan in his tokar heavy with pearls. “Unsullied! Defend us, stop them, defend your masters! Spears! Swords!”

When Rakharo put an arrow through his mouth, the slaves holding his sedan chair broke and ran, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. The old man crawled to the first rank of eunuchs, his blood pooling on the bricks. The Unsullied did not so much as look down to watch him die. Rank on rank on rank, they stood.

And did not move. The gods have heard my prayer.

“Unsullied!” Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. “Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.” She raised the harpy’s fingers in the air ... and then she flung the scourge aside. “Freedom!” she sang out. “Dracarys! Dracarys!”

“Dracarys!” they shouted back, the sweetest word she’d ever heard. “Dracarys! Dracarys!” And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.

ASOS Daenerys II

The harpy of Ghis, Dany thought. Old Ghis had fallen five thousand years ago, if she remembered true; its legions shattered by the might of young Valyria, its brick walls pulled down, its streets and buildings turned to ash and cinder by dragonflame, its very fields sown with salt, sulfur, and skulls. The gods of Ghis were dead, and so too its people; these Astapori were mongrels, Ser Jorah said. Even the Ghiscari tongue was largely forgotten; the slave cities spoke the High Valyrian of their conquerors, or what they had made of it.

Yet the symbol of the Old Empire still endured here, though this bronze monster had a heavy chain dangling from her talons, an open manacle at either end. The harpy of Ghis had a thunderbolt in her claws. This is the harpy of Astapor.

~

“They might be adequate to my needs,” Dany answered. It had been Ser Jorah’s suggestion that she speak only Dothraki and the Common Tongue while in Astapor. My bear is more clever than he looks.

~

The girls followed close behind with the silk awning, to keep her in the shade, but the thousand men before her enjoyed no such protection. More than half had the copper skins and almond eyes of Dothraki and Lhazerene, but she saw men of the Free Cities in the ranks as well, along with pale Qartheen, ebon-faced Summer Islanders, and others whose origins she could not guess. And some had skins of the same amber hue as Kraznys mo Nakloz, and the bristly red-black hair that marked the ancient folk of Ghis, who named themselves the harpy’s sons.

~

“The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh,” Dany told the girl, “but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me ...”

“They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that,” the slaver answered. “Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all.”

~

“You have lived long in the world, Whitebeard. Now that you have seen them, what do you say?”

“I say no, Your Grace,” the old man answered at once.


“Why?” she asked. “Speak freely.” Dany thought she knew what he would say, but she wanted the slave girl to hear, so Kraznys mo Nakloz might hear later.

~

An old city, this, she reflected, but not so populous as it was in its glory, nor near so crowded as Qarth or Pentos or Lys.

Her litter came to a sudden halt at the cross street, to allow a coffle of slaves to shuffle across her path, urged along by the crack of an overseer’s lash. These were no Unsullied, Dany noted, but a more common sort of men, with pale brown skins and black hair. There were women among them, but no children. All were naked.

~

“You speak of sacking cities. Answer me this, ser—why have the Dothraki never sacked this city?” She pointed. “Look at the walls. You can see where they’ve begun to crumble. There, and there. Do you see any guards on those towers? I don’t. Are they hiding, ser? I saw these sons of the harpy today, all their proud highborn warriors. They dressed in linen skirts, and the fiercest thing about them was their hair. Even a modest khalasar could crack this Astapor like a nut and spill out the rotted meat inside. So tell me, why is that ugly harpy not sitting beside the godsway in Vaes Dothrak among the other stolen gods?”

“You have a dragon’s eye, Khaleesi, that’s plain to see.”

“I wanted an answer, not a compliment.”

“There are two reasons. Astapor’s brave defenders are so much chaff, it’s true. Old names and fat purses who dress up as Ghiscari scourges to pretend they still rule a vast empire. Every one is a high officer. On feastdays they fight mock wars in the pits to demonstrate what brilliant commanders they are, but it’s the eunuchs who do the dying. All the same, any enemy wanting to sack Astapor would have to know that they’d be facing Unsullied. The slavers would turn out the whole garrison in the city’s defense. The Dothraki have not ridden against Unsullied since they left their braids at the gates of Qohor.”

“And the second reason?” Dany asked.

“Who would attack Astapor?” Ser Jorah asked. “Meereen and Yunkai are rivals but not enemies, the Doom destroyed Valyria, the folk of the eastern hinterlands are all Ghiscari, and beyond the hills lies Lhazar. The Lamb Men, as your Dothraki call them, a notably unwarlike people.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but north of the slave cities is the Dothraki sea, and two dozen mighty khals who like nothing more than sacking cities and carrying off their people into slavery.”

“Carrying them off where? What good are slaves once you’ve killed the slavers? Valyria is no more, Qarth lies beyond the red waste, and the Nine Free Cities are thousands of leagues to the west. And you may be sure the sons of the harpy give lavishly to every passing khal, just as the magisters do in Pentos and Norvos and Myr. They know that if they feast the horselords and give them gifts, they will soon ride on. It’s cheaper than fighting, and a deal more certain.”

ASOS Daenerys I

“His Grace was ... often pleasant.”

“Often?” Dany smiled. “But not always?”


~

[“] A change in the wind may bring the gift of victory.” He glanced at Ser Jorah. “Or a lady’s favor knotted round an arm.”

Mormont’s face darkened. “Be careful what you say, old man.”

Arstan had seen Ser Jorah fight at Lannisport, Dany knew, in the tourney Mormont had won with a lady’s favor knotted round his arm. He had won the lady too; Lynesse of House Hightower, his second wife, highborn and beautiful ... but she had ruined him, and abandoned him, and the memory of her was bitter to him now. “Be gentle, my knight.” She put a hand on Jorah’s arm. “Arstan had no wish to give offense, I’m certain.”

~

“A queen must listen to all,” she reminded him. “The highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.” She had read that in a book.

~

“Hear my voice then, Your Grace,” the exile said. “This Arstan Whitebeard is playing you false. He is too old to be a squire, and too well spoken to be serving that oaf of a eunuch.”

That does seem queer, Dany had to admit. Strong Belwas was an ex-slave, bred and trained in the fighting pits of Meereen. Magister Illyrio had sent him to guard her, or so Belwas claimed, and it was true that she needed guarding. The Usurper on his Iron Throne had offered land and lordship to any man who killed her. One attempt had been made already, with a cup of poisoned wine. The closer she came to Westeros, the more likely another attack became. Back in Qarth, the warlock Pyat Pree had sent a Sorrowful Man after her to avenge the Undying she’d burned in their House of Dust. Warlocks never forgot a wrong, it was said, and the Sorrowful Men never failed to kill. Most of the Dothraki would be against her as well. Khal Drogo’s kos led khalasars of their own now, and none of them would hesitate to attack her own little band on sight, to slay and slave her people and drag Dany herself back to Vaes Dothrak to take her proper place among the withered crones of the dosh khaleen. She hoped that Xaro Xhoan Daxos was not an enemy, but the Qartheen merchant had coveted her dragons. And there was Quaithe of the Shadow, that strange woman in the red lacquer mask with all her cryptic counsel. Was she an enemy too, or only a dangerous friend? Dany could not say.

Ser Jorah saved me from the poisoner, and Arstan Whitebeard from the manticore. Perhaps Strong Belwas will save me from the next. He was huge enough, with arms like small trees and a great curved arakh so sharp he might have shaved with it, in the unlikely event of hair sprouting on those smooth brown cheeks. Yet he was childlike as well. As a protector, he leaves much to be desired. Thankfully, I have Ser Jorah and my bloodriders. And my dragons, never forget.

~

She took a chunk of salt pork out of the bowl in her lap and held it up for her dragons to see. All three of them eyed it hungrily. Rhaegal spread green wings and stirred the air, and Viserion’s neck swayed back and forth like a long pale snake’s as he followed the movement of her hand. “Drogon,” Dany said softly, “dracarys.” And she tossed the pork in the air.

Drogon moved quicker than a striking cobra. Flame roared from his mouth, orange and scarlet and black, searing the meat before it began to fall. As his sharp black teeth snapped shut around it, Rhaegal’s head darted close, as if to steal the prize from his brother’s jaws, but Drogon swallowed and screamed, and the smaller green dragon could only hiss in frustration.

“Stop that, Rhaegal,” Dany said in annoyance, giving his head a swat.

“You had the last one. I’ll have no greedy dragons.” She smiled at Ser Jorah. “I won’t need to char their meat over a brazier any longer.”

“So I see. Dracarys?”

All three dragons turned their heads at the sound of that word, and Viserion let loose with a blast of pale gold flame that made Ser Jorah take a hasty step backward. Dany giggled. “Be careful with that word, ser, or they’re like to singe your beard off. It means ‘dragonfire’ in High Valyrian. I wanted to choose a command that no one was like to utter by chance.”

~

“It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone. Every man I take into my service is a risk, I understand that, but how am I to win the Seven Kingdoms without such risks? Am I to conquer Westeros with one exile knight and three Dothraki bloodriders?”

~

“What is there for me in Slaver’s Bay?”

“An army,” said Ser Jorah. “If Strong Belwas is so much to your liking you can buy hundreds more like him out of the fighting pits of Meereen ... but it is Astapor I’d set my sails for. In Astapor you can buy Unsullied.”

[...] “That is what you will find in Astapor, Your Grace. Put ashore there, and continue on to Pentos overland. It will take longer, yes ... but when you break bread with Magister Illyrio, you will have a thousand swords behind you, not just four.”

There is wisdom in this, yes, Dany thought, but ... “How am I to buy a thousand slave soldiers? All I have of value is the crown the Tourmaline Brotherhood gave me.”

“Dragons will be as great a wonder in Astapor as they were in Qarth. It may be that the slavers will shower you with gifts, as the Qartheen did. If not ... these ships carry more than your Dothraki and their horses. They took on trade goods at Qarth, I’ve been through the holds and seen for myself. Bolts of silk and bales of tiger skin, amber and jade carvings, saffron, myrrh ... slaves are cheap, Your Grace. Tiger skins are costly.”

“Those are Illyrio’s tiger skins,” she objected. 

“And Illyrio is a friend to House Targaryen.” 

“All the more reason not to steal his goods.”

“What use are wealthy friends if they will not put their wealth at your disposal, my queen? If Magister Illyrio would deny you, he is only Xaro Xhoan Daxos with four chins. And if he is sincere in his devotion to your cause, he will not begrudge you three shiploads of trade goods. What better use for his tiger skins than to buy you the beginnings of an army?”

That’s true. Dany felt a rising excitement. “There will be dangers on such a long march ...”

“There are dangers at sea as well. Corsairs and pirates hunt the southern route, and north of Valyria the Smoking Sea is demon- haunted. The next storm could sink or scatter us, a kraken could pull us under ... or we might find ourselves becalmed again, and die of thirst as we wait for the wind to rise. A march will have different dangers, my queen, but none greater.”

“What if Captain Groleo refuses to change course, though? And Arstan, Strong Belwas, what will they do?”

Ser Jorah stood. “Perhaps it’s time you found that out.”

“Yes,” she decided. “I’ll do it!”

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

Pale men in dusty linen skirts stood beneath arched doorways to watch them pass. They know who I am, and they do not love me. Dany could tell from the way they looked at her.

~

“...Give me a son, my sweet song of joy!”

Give you a dragon, you mean. “I will not wed you, Xaro.”

His face had grown cold at that. “Then go.”

“But where?”

“Somewhere far from here.”

~

Perhaps she had lingered in Qarth too long, seduced by its comforts and its beauties. It was a city that always promised more than it would give you, it seemed to her, and her welcome here had turned sour since the House of the Undying had collapsed in a great gout of smoke and flame. Overnight the Qartheen had come to remember that dragons were dangerous. No longer did they vie with each other to give her gifts. Instead the Tourmaline Brotherhood had called openly for her expulsion, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers for her death. It was all Xaro could do to keep the Thirteen from joining them.

~

Xaro Xhoan Daxos would be no help to her, she knew that now. For all his professions of devotion, he was playing his own game, not unlike Pyat Pree. The night he asked her to leave, Dany had begged one last favor of him. “An army, is it?” Xaro asked. “A kettle of gold? A galley, perhaps?”

Dany blushed. She hated begging. “A ship, yes.”

Xaro’s eyes had glittered as brightly as the jewels in his nose. “I am a trader, Khaleesi. So perhaps we should speak no more of giving, but rather of trade. For one of your dragons, you shall have ten of the finest ships in my fleet. You need only say that one sweet word.”

“No,” she said.

“Alas,” Xaro sobbed, “that was not the word I meant.”

“Would you ask a mother to sell one of her children?”

“Whyever not? They can always make more. Mothers sell their children every day.”

“Not the Mother of Dragons.”

“Not even for twenty ships?”

“Not for a hundred.”

His mouth curled downward. “I do not have a hundred. But you have three dragons. Grant me one, for all my kindnesses. You will still have two and thirty ships as well.”

Thirty ships would be enough to land a small army on the shore of Westeros. But I do not have a small army. “How many ships do you own, Xaro?”

“Eighty-three, if one does not count my pleasure barge.” “And your colleagues in the Thirteen?”
“Among us all, perhaps a thousand.”
“And the Spicers and the Tourmaline Brotherhood?” “Their trifling fleets are of no account.”

“Even so,” she said, “tell me.”

“Twelve or thirteen hundred for the Spicers. No more than eight hundred for the Brotherhood.”

“And the Asshai’i, the Braavosi, the Summer Islanders, the Ibbenese, and all the other peoples who sail the great salt sea, how many ships do they have? All together?”

“Many and more,” he said irritably. “What does this matter?”

“I am trying to set a price on one of the three living dragons in the world.” Dany smiled at him sweetly. “It seems to me that one-third of all the ships in the world would be fair.”

Xaro’s tears ran down his cheeks on either side of his jewel-encrusted nose. “Did I not warn you not to enter the Palace of Dust? This is the very thing I feared. The whispers of the warlocks have made you as mad as Mallarawan’s wife. A third of all the ships in the world? Pah. Pah, I say. Pah.”

Dany had not seen him since. His seneschal brought her messages, each cooler than the last. She must quit his house. He was done feeding her and her people. He demanded the return of his gifts, which she had accepted in bad faith. Her only consolation was that at least she’d had the great good sense not to marry him.

~

Dany would get no help from the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, or the Ancient Guild of Spicers.

~

The Usurper offered a lordship to the man who kills me, and these two are far from home. Or could they be creatures of the warlocks, meant to take me unawares?

~

“A most excellent brass, great lady,” the merchant exclaimed. “Bright as the sun! And for the Mother of Dragons, only thirty honors.”

The platter was worth no more than three. “Where are my guards?” Dany declared. “This man is trying to rob me!”

~

“Thirty? Did I say thirty? Such a fool I am. The price is twenty honors.”

“All the brass in this booth is not worth twenty honors,” Dany told him as she studied the reflections.

~

“Ten, Khaleesi, because you are so lovely. Use it for a looking glass. Only brass this fine could capture such beauty.”

“It might serve to carry nightsoil. If you threw it away, I might pick it up, so long as I did not need to stoop. But pay for it?” Dany shoved the platter back into his hands. “Worms have crawled up your nose and eaten your wits.”

“Eight honors,” he cried. “My wives will beat me and call me fool, but I am a helpless child in your hands. Come, eight, that is less than it is worth.”

“What do I need with dull brass when Xaro Xhoan Daxos feeds me off plates of gold?”

~

The brass merchant came hopping after them. “Five honors, for five it is yours, it was meant for you.”

~

The other man wore a traveler’s cloak of undyed wool, the hood thrown back. Long white hair fell to his shoulders, and a silky white beard covered the lower half of his face. He leaned his weight on a hardwood staff as tall as he was. Only fools would stare so openly if they meant me harm. All the same, it might be prudent to head back toward Jhogo and Aggo. “The old man does not wear a sword,” she said to Jorah in the Common Tongue as she drew him away.

~

“Four! I know you want it!” He danced in front of them, scampering backward as he thrust the platter at their faces.

~

“Two honors! Two! Two!” The merchant was panting heavily from the effort of running backward.

“Pay him before he kills himself,” Dany told Ser Jorah, wondering what she was going to do with a huge brass platter.

~

“Put down your steel! Stop it!”

“Your Grace?” Mormont lowered his sword only an inch. “These men attacked you.”

“They were defending me.” Dany snapped her hand to shake the sting from her fingers. “It was the other one, the Qartheen.” When she looked around he was gone. “He was a Sorrowful Man. There was a manticore in that jewel box he gave me. This man knocked it out of my hand.”

~

“We were told to find you and bring you back to Pentos. The Seven Kingdoms have need of you. Robert the Usurper is dead, and the realm bleeds. When we set sail from Pentos there were four kings in the land, and no justice to be had.”

Joy bloomed in her heart, but Dany kept it from her face.

ACOK Daenerys III

She was garbed after the Qartheen fashion. Xaro had warned her that the Enthroned would never listen to a Dothraki, so she had taken care to go before them in flowing green samite with one breast bared, silvered sandals on her feet, with a belt of black-and-white pearls about her waist. For all the help they offered, I could have gone naked. Perhaps I should have. She drank deep.

~

Descendants of the ancient kings and queens of Qarth, the Pureborn commanded the Civic Guard and the fleet of ornate galleys that ruled the straits between the seas. Daenerys Targaryen had wanted that fleet, or part of it, and some of their soldiers as well. She made the traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offered the traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, sent the traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door, and finally received the traditional blue silk slippers summoning her to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones.

~

“Come with me to the Arbor, Xaro, and you’ll have the finest vintages you ever tasted. But we’ll need to go in a warship, not a pleasure barge.”

“I have no warships. War is bad for trade. Many times I have told you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos is a man of peace.”

Xaro Xhoan Daxos is a man of gold, she thought, and gold will buy me all the ships and swords I need. “I have not asked you to take up a sword, only to lend me your ships.”

He smiled modestly. “Of trading ships I have a few, that is so. Who can say how many? One may be sinking even now, in some stormy corner of the Summer Sea. On the morrow, another will fall afoul of corsairs. The next day, one of my captains may look at the wealth in his hold and think, All this should belong to me. Such are the perils of trade. Why, the longer we talk, the fewer ships I am likely to have. I grow poorer by the instant.”

“Give me ships, and I will make you rich again.”

“Marry me, bright light, and sail the ship of my heart. I cannot sleep at night for thinking of your beauty.”

Dany smiled. Xaro’s flowery protestations of passion amused her, but his manner was at odds with his words. While Ser Jorah had scarcely been able to keep his eyes from her bare breast when he’d helped her into the palanquin, Xaro hardly deigned to notice it, even in these close confines. And she had seen the beautiful boys who surrounded the merchant prince, flitting through his palace halls in wisps of silk. “You speak sweetly, Xaro, but under your words I hear another no.”

~

“The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’d spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives.

~

Dany looked uneasily at where the ladder had stood. Even the smoke was gone now, and the crowd was breaking up, each man going about his business. In a moment more than a few would find their purses flat and empty.

ACOK Daenerys II

“Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or ever will be,” Pyat Pree had told her, back amongst the bones of Vaes Tolorro. [...]

Dany took the warlock’s words well salted, but the magnificence of the great city was not to be denied.

~

“I do not understand her.” Pyat and Xaro had showered Dany with promises from the moment they first glimpsed her dragons, declaring themselves her loyal servants in all things, but from Quaithe she had gotten only the rare cryptic word. And it disturbed her that she had never seen the woman’s face. Remember Mirri Maz Duur, she told herself. Remember treachery. She turned to her bloodriders. “We will keep our own watch so long as we are here. See that no one enters this wing of the palace without my leave, and take care that the dragons are always well guarded.”

“It shall be done, Khaleesi,” Aggo said.

“We have seen only the parts of Qarth that Pyat Pree wished us to see,” she went on. “Rakharo, go forth and look on the rest, and tell me what you find. Take good men with you—and women, to go places where men are forbidden.”

“As you say, I do, blood of my blood,” said Rakharo.

~

“Ser Jorah, find the docks and see what manner of ships lay at anchor. It has been half a year since I last heard tidings from the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps the gods will have blown some good captain here from Westeros with a ship to carry us home.”

The knight frowned. “That would be no kindness. The Usurper will kill you, sure as sunrise.” Mormont hooked his thumbs through his swordbelt. “My place is here at your side.”

“Jhogo can guard me as well. You have more languages than my bloodriders, and the Dothraki mistrust the sea and those who sail her. Only you can serve me in this. Go among the ships and speak to the crews, learn where they are from and where they are bound and what manner of men command them.”

~

“Khaleesi,” the knight said when they were alone, “I should not speak so freely of your plans, if I were you. This man will spread the tale wherever he goes now.”

“Let him,” she said. “Let the whole world know my purpose. The Usurper is dead, what does it matter?”

“Not every sailor’s tale is true,” Ser Jorah cautioned, “and even if Robert be truly dead, his son rules in his place. This changes nothing, truly.”

“This changes everything.” Dany rose abruptly. Screeching, her dragons uncoiled and spread their wings. Drogon flapped and clawed up to the lintel over the archway. The others skittered across the floor, wingtips scrabbling on the marble. “Before, the Seven Kingdoms were like my Drogo’s khalasar, a hundred thousand made as one by his strength. Now they fly to pieces, even as the khalasar did after my khal lay dead.”

“The high lords have always fought. Tell me who’s won and I’ll tell you what it means. Khaleesi, the Seven Kingdoms are not going to fall into your hands like so many ripe peaches. You will need a fleet, gold, armies, alliances—”

“All this I know.” She took his hands in hers and looked up into his dark suspicious eyes.

Sometimes he thinks of me as a child he must protect, and sometimes as a woman he would like to bed, but does he ever truly see me as his queen? “I am not the frightened girl you met in Pentos. I have counted only fifteen name days, true ... but I am as old as the crones in the dosh khaleen and as young as my dragons, Jorah. I have borne a child, burned a khal, and crossed the red waste and the Dothraki sea. Mine is the blood of the dragon.”

“As was your brother’s,” he said stubbornly.

“I am not Viserys.”

“No,” he admitted. “There is more of Rhaegar in you, I think, but even Rhaegar could be slain. Robert proved that on the Trident, with no more than a warhammer. Even dragons can die.”

“Dragons die.” She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on an unshaven cheek. “But so do dragonslayers.”

ACOK Daenerys I

She dare not turn north onto the vast ocean of grass they called the Dothraki sea. The first khalasar they met would swallow up her ragged band, slaying the warriors and slaving the rest. The lands of the Lamb Men south of the river were likewise closed to them. They were too few to defend themselves even against that unwarlike folk, and the Lhazareen had small reason to love them. She might have struck downriver for the ports at Meereen and Yunkai and Astapor, but Rakharo warned her that Pono’s khalasar had ridden that way, driving thousands of captives before them to sell in the flesh marts that festered like open sores on the shores of Slaver’s Bay.

~

“Ghosts,” Irri muttered. “Terrible ghosts. We must not stay here, Khaleesi, this is their place.”

“I fear no ghosts. Dragons are more powerful than ghosts.” And figs are more important. 

~

“...Nothing mattered but our love, I told myself. We fled to Lys, where I sold my ship for gold to keep us.”

His voice was thick with grief, and Dany was reluctant to press him any further, yet she had to know how it ended. “Did she die there?” she asked him gently.

~

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.”

~

Dany gave him charge of a dozen of her strongest men, and set them to pulling up the plaza to get to the earth beneath. If devilgrass could grow between the paving stones, other grasses would grow when the stones were gone. They had wells enough, no lack of water. Given seed, they could make the plaza bloom.

~

Dany thanked him and told him to see to the repair of the gates. If enemies had crossed the waste to destroy these cities in ancient days, they might well come again. “If so, we must be ready,” she declared.

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

“I thank you, Mirri Maz Duur,” she said, “for the lessons you have taught me.”

“You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing.

“I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams I want, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.” Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, but made no reply. As she stepped away, Dany saw that the contempt was gone from the maegi’s flat black eyes; in its place was something that might have been fear. Then there was nothing to be done but watch the sun and look for the first star.

When a horselord dies, his horse is slain with him, so he might ride proud into the night lands. The bodies are burned beneath the open sky, and the khal rises on his fiery steed to take his place among the stars. The more fiercely the man burned in life, the brighter his star will shine in the darkness.

Jhogo spied it first. “There,” he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

~

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn.

[...] Now, she thought, now, and for an instant she glimpsed Khal Drogo before her, mounted on his smoky stallion, a flaming lash in his hand. He smiled, and the whip snaked down at the pyre, hissing.

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. The platform of wood and brush and grass began to shift and collapse in upon itself. Bits of burning wood slid down at her, and Dany was showered with ash and cinders. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. The roaring filled the world, yet dimly through the firefall Dany heard women shriek and children cry out in wonder.

Only death can pay for life.

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. She heard the screams of frightened horses, and the voices of the Dothraki raised in shouts of fear and terror, and Ser Jorah calling her name and cursing. No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

When the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away ... yet she was unhurt.

The cream-and-gold dragon was suckling at her left breast, the green-and-bronze at the right. Her arms cradled them close. The black-and-scarlet beast was draped across her shoulders, its long sinuous neck coiled under her chin. When it saw Jorah, it raised its head and looked at him with eyes as red as coals.

Wordless, the knight fell to his knees. The men of her khas came up behind him. Jhogo was the first to lay his arakh at her feet. “Blood of my blood,” he murmured, pushing his face to the smoking earth. “Blood of my blood,” she heard Aggo echo. “Blood of my blood,” Rakharo shouted.

And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s.

As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

AGOT Daenerys IX

“The khal lives,” Irri answered quietly ... yet Dany saw a darkness in her eyes when she said the words, and no sooner had she spoken than she rushed away to fetch water.

~

My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiqui’s tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame.

She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet ... she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been.

~

“Princess, are you well? Should you be up, weak as you are?”

“Weak? I am strong, Jorah.” To please him, she reclined on a pile of cushions. “Tell me how my child died.”

“He never lived, my princess. The women say ...” He faltered, and Dany saw how the flesh hung loose on him, and the way he limped when he moved.

“Tell me. Tell me what the women say.”
[...]

“They say the child was ...”

[...] “Monstrous,” Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The knight was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous.

AGOT Daenerys VIII

“We have ridden far enough today. We will camp here.”

“Here?” Haggo looked around them. The land was brown and sere, inhospitable. “This is no camping ground.”

“It is not for a woman to bid us halt,” said Qotho, “not even a khaleesi.”

“We camp here,” Dany repeated. “Haggo, tell them Khal Drogo commanded the halt. If any ask why, say to them that my time is near and I could not continue. Cohollo, bring up the slaves, they must put up the khal’s tent at once. Qotho—”

~

Irri wanted to leave the tent flaps open to let in the breeze, but Dany forbade it. She would not have any see Drogo this way, in delirium and weakness. When her khas came up, she posted them outside at guard. “Admit no one without my leave,” she told Jhogo. “No one.”

~

“Khaleesi,” Jhiqui said, “he fell from his horse.”

Trembling, her eyes full of sudden tears, Dany turned away from them. He fell from his horse! It was so, she had seen it, and the bloodriders, and no doubt her handmaids and the men of her khas as well. And how many more? They could not keep it secret, and Dany knew what that meant. A khal who could not ride could not rule, and Drogo had fallen from his horse.

~

Mirri Maz Duur had no use for the carcass. “Burn it,” Dany told them. It was what they did, she knew. When a man died, his mount was killed and placed beneath him on the funeral pyre, to carry him to the night lands. The men of her khas dragged the carcass from the tent.

~

“Take her to the maegi.”

No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see? Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.

[...] No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! she screamed. The dancers!

Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

AGOT Daenerys VII

They were suspicious of her, she realized with sadness; afraid that she had saved them for some worse fate.

~

“Why should you want to help my khal?”


“All men are one flock, or so we are taught,” replied Mirri Maz Duur.

~

Drogo put a huge hand on her shoulder. She took some of his weight as they walked toward the great mud temple. The three bloodriders followed. Dany commanded Ser Jorah and the warriors of her khas to guard the entrance and make certain no one set the building afire while they were still inside.

AGOT Daenerys VI

Drogo would take his bloodriders and ride in search of hrakkar, the great white lion of the plains. If they returned triumphant, her lord husband’s joy would be fierce, and he might be willing to hear her out.

~

“I would still like to taste that summerwine you spoke of.”

The man bounded to his feet. “That? Dornish swill. It is not worthy of a princess. I have a dry red from the Arbor, crisp and delectable. Please, let me give you a cask.”

Khal Drogo’s visits to the Free Cities had given him a taste for good wine, and Dany knew that such a noble vintage would please him.

~

“You taste it first.”

“Me?” The man laughed. “I am not worthy of this vintage, my lord. And it’s a poor wine merchant who drinks up his own wares.” His smile was amiable, yet she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow.

“You will drink,” Dany said, cold as ice.

 AGOT Daenerys V

Her handmaids had helped her ready herself for the ceremony. Despite the tender mother’s stomach that had afflicted her these past two moons, Dany had dined on bowls of half-clotted blood to accustom herself to the taste, and Irri made her chew strips of dried horseflesh until her jaws were aching. She had starved herself for a day and a night before the ceremony in the hopes that hunger would help her keep down the raw meat.

~

“Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!” she proclaimed in her best Dothraki. A prince rides inside me! She had practiced the phrase for days with her handmaid Jhiqui.

~

Khal Drogo laid his hand on Dany’s arm. She could feel the tension in his fingers. Even a khal as mighty as Drogo could know fear when the dosh khaleen peered into smoke of the future. At her back, her handmaids fluttered anxiously.

~

The Dothraki eyed the sword as he passed; Dany heard curses and threats and angry muttering rising all around her, like a tide.

~

There were five thousand men in the hall, but only a handful who knew the Common Tongue. Yet even if his words were incomprehensible, you had only to look at him to know that he was drunk.

~

Her brother drew his sword.

[...] Dany gave a wordless cry of terror. She knew what a drawn sword meant here, even if her brother did not.

AGOT Daenerys IV

Viserys was less impressed. “The trash of dead cities,” he sneered. He was careful to speak in the Common Tongue, which few Dothraki could understand, yet even so Dany found herself glancing back at the men of her khas, to make certain he had not been overheard. He went on blithely. “All these savages know how to do is steal the things better men have built ... and kill.” He laughed. “They do know how to kill. Otherwise I’d have no use for them at all.”

“They are my people now,” Dany said. “You should not call them savages, brother.”

“The dragon speaks as he likes,” Viserys said ... in the Common Tongue.

~

“The princess must be presented to the dosh khaleen ...”

“The crones, yes,” her brother interrupted, “and there’s to be some mummer’s show of a prophecy for the whelp in her belly, you told me. What is that to me? I’m tired of eating horsemeat and I’m sick of the stink of these savages.” He sniffed at the wide, floppy sleeve of his tunic, where it was his custom to keep a sachet. It could not have helped much. The tunic was filthy. All the silk and heavy wools that Viserys had worn out of Pentos were stained by hard travel and rotted from sweat.

AGOT Daenerys III

The khal had commanded the handmaid Irri to teach Dany to ride in the Dothraki fashion, but it was the filly who was her real teacher. The horse seemed to know her moods, as if they shared a single mind. With every passing day, Dany felt surer in her seat. The Dothraki were a hard and unsentimental people, and it was not their custom to name their animals, so Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much.

~

“Take his horse,” Dany commanded Ser Jorah. Viserys gaped at her. He could not believe what he was hearing; nor could Dany quite believe what she was saying. Yet the words came. “Let my brother walk behind us back to the khalasar.” Among the Dothraki, the man who does not ride was no man at all, the lowest of the low, without honor or pride. “Let everyone see him as he is.”

~

Dany rode along quietly for a time, working his words like a puzzle box. It went against everything that Viserys had ever told her to think that the people could care so little whether a true king or a usurper reigned over them. Yet the more she thought on Jorah’s words, the more they rang of truth.

[...] “My brother will never take back the Seven Kingdoms,” Dany said. She had known that for a long time, she realized. She had known it all her life. Only she had never let herself say the words, even in a whisper, but now she said them for Jorah Mormont and all the world to hear.

Ser Jorah gave her a measuring look. “You think not.”

“He could not lead an army even if my lord husband gave him one,” Dany said. “He has no coin and the only knight who follows him reviles him as less than a snake. The Dothraki make mock of his weakness. He will never take us home.”

~

Soon there would be laughter, when the men of her khas told the story of what had happened in the grasses today. By the time Viserys came limping back among them, every man, woman, and child in the camp would know him for a walker. There were no secrets in the khalasar.

~

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” she asked as Irri scrubbed her back and Jhiqui sluiced sand from her hair. She had heard that the first dragons had come from the east, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai and the islands of the Jade Sea. Perhaps some were still living there, in realms strange and wild.

“Dragons are gone, Khaleesi,” Irri said.

“Dead,” agreed Jhiqui. “Long and long ago.”

Viserys had told her that the last Targaryen dragons had died no more than a century and a half ago, during the reign of Aegon III, who was called the Dragonbane. That did not seem so long ago to Dany. “Everywhere?” she said, disappointed. “Even in the east?” Magic had died in the west when the Doom fell on Valyria and the Lands of the Long Summer, and neither spell-forged steel nor stormsingers nor dragons could hold it back, but Dany had always heard that the east was different. It was said that manticores prowled the islands of the Jade Sea, that basilisks infested the jungles of Yi Ti, that spellsingers, warlocks, and aeromancers practiced their arts openly in Asshai, while shadowbinders and bloodmages worked terrible sorceries in the black of night. Why shouldn’t there be dragons too?

~

They were on the far side of the Dothraki sea when Jhiqui brushed the soft swell of Dany’s stomach with her fingers and said, “Khaleesi, you are with child.”

“I know,” Dany told her.

AGOT Daenerys II

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

~

Her brother Viserys gifted her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing; Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls.

~ “I shall treasure them always.” Dany had heard tales of such eggs, but she had never seen one, nor thought to see one. It was a truly magnificent gift, though she knew that Illyrio could afford to be lavish. He had collected a fortune in horses and slaves for his part in selling her to Khal Drogo.

~

A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.

The silver horse leapt the flames as if she had wings.

AGOT Daenerys I

Her brother held the gown up for her inspection. “This is beauty. Touch it. Go on. Caress the fabric.”

Dany touched it. The cloth was so smooth that it seemed to run through her fingers like water. She could not remember ever wearing anything so soft. It frightened her. She pulled her hand away. “Is it really mine?”

“A gift from the Magister Illyrio,” Viserys said, smiling. Her brother was in a high mood tonight. “The color will bring out the violet in your eyes. And you shall have gold as well, and jewels of all sorts. Illyrio has promised. Tonight you must look like a princess.”

A princess, Dany thought. She had forgotten what that was like. Perhaps she had never really known. “Why does he give us so much?” she asked. “What does he want from us?” For nigh on half a year, they had lived in the magister’s house, eating his food, pampered by his servants. Dany was thirteen, old enough to know that such gifts seldom come without their price, here in the free city of Pentos.

“Illyrio is no fool,” Viserys said. He was a gaunt young man with nervous hands and a feverish look in his pale lilac eyes. “The magister knows that I will not forget my friends when I come into my throne.”

Dany said nothing. Magister Illyrio was a dealer in spices, gemstones, dragonbone, and other, less savory things. He had friends in all of the Nine Free Cities, it was said, and even beyond, in Vaes Dothrak and the fabled lands beside the Jade Sea. It was also said that he’d never had a friend he wouldn’t cheerfully sell for the right price. Dany listened to the talk in the streets, and she heard these things, but she knew better than to question her brother when he wove his webs of dream. His anger was a terrible thing when roused. Viserys called it “waking the dragon.”

~

Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden torc emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs.

“Now you look all a princess,” the girl said breathlessly when they were done. Dany glanced at her image in the silvered looking glass that Illyrio had so thoughtfully provided. A princess, she thought, but she remembered what the girl had said, how Khal Drogo was so rich even his slaves wore golden collars. She felt a sudden chill, and gooseflesh pimpled her bare arms.

~

Dany could smell the stench of Illyrio’s pallid flesh through his heavy perfumes.

Her brother, sprawled out on his pillows beside her, never noticed. His mind was away across the narrow sea. “We won’t need his whole khalasar,” Viserys said. His fingers toyed with the hilt of his borrowed blade, though Dany knew he had never used a sword in earnest. “Ten thousand, that would be enough, I could sweep the Seven Kingdoms with ten thousand Dothraki screamers. The realm will rise for its rightful king. Tyrell, Redwyne, Darry, Greyjoy, they have no more love for the Usurper than I do. The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children. And the smallfolk will be with us. They cry out for their king.” He looked at Illyrio anxiously. “They do, don’t they?”

“They are your people, and they love you well,” Magister Illyrio said amiably. “In holdfasts all across the realm, men lift secret toasts to your health while women sew dragon banners and hide them against the day of your return from across the water.” He gave a massive shrug. “Or so my agents tell me.”

Dany had no agents, no way of knowing what anyone was doing or thinking across the narrow sea, but she mistrusted Illyrio’s sweet words as she mistrusted everything about Illyrio. Her brother was nodding eagerly, however. “I shall kill the Usurper myself,” he promised, who had never killed anyone, “as he killed my brother Rhaegar. And Lannister too, the Kingslayer, for what he did to my father.”

“That would be most fitting,” Magister Illyrio said. Dany saw the smallest hint of a smile playing around his full lips, but her brother did not notice. Nodding, he pushed back a curtain and stared off into the night, and Dany knew he was fighting the Battle of the Trident once again.

~

Dany noticed that her brother’s hand was clenched tightly around the hilt of his borrowed sword. He looked almost as frightened as she felt.

~

Magister Illyrio’s words were honey. “Many important men will be at the feast tonight. Such men have enemies. The khal must protect his guests, yourself chief among them, Your Grace. No doubt the Usurper would pay well for your head.”

“Oh, yes,” Viserys said darkly. “He has tried, Illyrio, I promise you that. His hired knives follow us everywhere. I am the last dragon, and he will not sleep easy while I live.”

The palanquin slowed and stopped. The curtains were thrown back, and a slave offered a hand to help Daenerys out. His collar, she noted, was ordinary bronze.

#daenerys targaryen #a dance with dragons #a storm of swords #a clash of kings #a game of thrones #dany passages

[duhragonball]

Nanwum IV toolboxkit

I have a love/hate relationship with the word “tool”.  On the one hand, tools are awesome.    I like holding a big screwdriver and thinking about all the screws I can loosen with it.    I ordered a thing at work yesterday and I can’t wait for it to arrive.   There’s a rush of power in knowing some object will solve a bunch of problems.   Look out, screws.

On the other hand, it annoys me how people use the term “tool” in a more abstract sense, like statistical “tools” or using a flow chart to figure out what to do.    I can’t hold any of that crap, so calling it a tool feels like a bait-and-switch.   But I can appreciate the power of the term.   If you can liken a thing to a power drill, then you have my attention.   

Anyway, this weekend is for making preparations for National Novel Writing Month, which starts next Sunday, so I thought it would be useful to go over the stuff that I use to get me through it.  

1) The NaNoWriMo website.

Back in 2017, I seriously considered not even bothering with the website, because I figured it had nothing to offer.    I’m the one doing all the work, right?   But tracking progress is an effective motivator, and I like being able to see a chart that shows how well I’m doing.    There’s some bugs in it.    For some reason it doesn’t show my Camp Nano April 2018 as being complete, and when I tried to fix it, it doubled the word count instead.  

It’s also useful for where I’m at today.    Now that I’ve done this thing a few times, I can measure current performance against past years.  November 2018 was my personal best, so I’m going to use that as a model for this year.    I don’t need to beat 2018-me, but I do need to remind myself that I’ve performed this well in the past.  

2) George R. R. Martin motivational desktop wallpaper.

I started doing this as a joke, but looking at this dude sitting at his computer, not writing is a much more powerful motivator than I ever thought possible.  The idea is that if I minimize the writing window to do something else, I have to look this dude in the eye before I can look up Robocop clips on YouTube.   I’ve had months where I was struggling to meet the goal, and then I went “Oh, yeah, I forgot to change my desktop pic, and it pushes me over the finish line.   It’s like Popeye eating spinach.   

Now the Tone Police will take issue with something like this, and call it arrogant.   “How dare you put down a highly successful fantasy author just to make yourself feel confident,” they’ll say as they wag their finger.   “Don’t you care that you might be making procrastinators feel bad?”  To that I say: fuck’em.  

See, I’m a world-class procrastinator in my own right.   I have to get hyped for this stuff every year, because that’s the only way I can build up enough momentum to see it through.    Like all Sith Lords, I have to call upon all of my emotions -- fear, anger, pride, fernweh -- to fuel the creative monster.  I don’t make a dime on this, so if I can’t take some bloody satisfaction out of it then what’s the point?   

I’m pretty sure George doesn’t even know I do this, but in case he’s reading this, let me address him specifically: George, I’ve cranked out three of these Nanwums and you still haven’t finished Winds of Winter, which is well on its way to becoming the Duke Nukem Forever of modern fantasy.   I don’t know if you got soft, like Rocky in Rocky IV, or maybe you’ve lost your confidence like Rocky in Rocky III, but you have to kindle a fire under your ass, even if it’s a silly fire, like fear of dying before the book goes to print, or getting it done just to spite assholes like me.   But find something and use it.  

3) Kenny Omega vs. Sonny Kiss, AEW Dynamite 10/21/2020

This was a first-round match in a tournament for the right to challenge for the AEW World title, and it was Kenny’s big return to singles action, so I guess the idea here was to make him look strong by having him crush Sonny Kiss in under 15 seconds.   I’ve seen blowouts in wrestling before, but this one speaks to me on a different level, and I’m sorely tempted to swap out my GRRM image with this shot of in-the-zone Kenny Omega.

Because I feel this right now.    This isn’t like last year or the year before, where I got behind working on stuff in October so I wasn’t fully prepared.   I got all caught up a few weeks ago, and I have eight days to get ready.    I haven’t written a thing in weeks, and I’m itching to get back to it.    I want a big Day One total to start the month off, and seeing this match makes me want to aim even higher than 7000 words.    Can I hit 10,000 in one day?    The Cleaner sure thinks so.  Clapclap-clap clap clap.   

4) Focus Writer

You can check it out for yourself at https://gottcode.org/focuswriter/

The main selling point for Focus Writer is that it can be used for “distraction free” writing, in that it’s default setting makes it tricky to minimize the window to do other stuff.   But I turned that off a while back.    For my purposes, I just need the word counter.  

One thing I learned while editing work instead of writing from scratch is that you can just set the word count goal to 100 words.    That way, the percentage displayed at the bottom of the screen will keep track of how many words you’ve written in that session.   So if you write 1275 new words, the counter will say 1275%.  

I used to set actual goals, like 3500 words for the day or whatever, but I found myself constantly trying to calculate what 53% of that is, and that ended up being a huge distraction in itself.    So now I just stick to the 100 word “goal” and use it to track my actual progress, rather than setting lofty goals that I may not need to actually hit.   The Nano website does that for me anyway.

5) The Adventures of Dumplin

I’m essentially adapting the events of Dragon Ball Xenoverse 1 into this story, so I could break out my PS3 and play it through again to remind me of all the stuff I wanted to use from 2015, but it’s a lot easier to just watch someone else play it instead.   Team FourStar’s playthrough of the Xenoverse games is some of their best material, as far as I’m concerned, and knowing this is one of my go-to references is going to make this November pretty awesome.   

I’m not sure I could, or should, work Dumplin into my fic.  If I did, he couldn’t be the same guy who saved the day in this LP series, because I’m having Luffa do all that.   Early on, I envisioned a scene where she wakes up one morning after a night of heavy drinking and finds Dumplin in bed with her, but that seemed a little too goofy to use.    But I want you to have that mental picture anyway, so I’m writing about it here.

6) Diet Pepsi

Straight Edge, Hard Core.    Stephen King’s a wuss for using cocaine to help him write.   

#nanwum iv #i'm gonna fuck this november up proper

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, October 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Queen Elizabeth’s 73-year sham marriage to Prince Philip collapses

Page 2: Kanye West is in top-secret talks to launch his own TV network and is crowing it will be bigger than the Kardashians -- he wants it to reflect his lofty vision of what the world should be and to provide a spiritual awakening for the masses but he doesn’t realize there aren’t a lot of people who want to spend hours a day listening to him rant about how the world would be a better place if he was in charge -- meanwhile Kim Kardashian is at the end of her rope again 

Page 3: Furious Angelina Jolie is tearing into Brad Pitt’s new girlfriend Nicole Poturalski blasting her as a scheming psycho and as a borderline stalker who is dating Brad just to get famous and it’s going to end in disaster for the whole family not just him so she’s already told Brad to keep Nicole away from their kids and she’s looking to make this part of their ongoing legal case 

Page 4: Newly single Kelly Clarkson has enlisted fellow country star Maren Morris to help her find a new man -- Maren advised Kelly to use her talk show to connect with men she admires but Kelly may have taken her advice a little too literally when she had her crush Keanu Reeves on the show and was drooling all over him though she knows it’s probably wishful thinking 

Page 5: Ellen DeGeneres kicked off her new season by publicly apologizing for allegations of misconduct on her talk show but body language experts blasted her remarks as tone deaf and missing the mark totally 

Page 6: Jimmy Fallon’s wife Nancy Juvonen is furious over the time he spends nurturing his bond with close pal Kathie Lee Gifford -- Jimmy loves to reminisce about the old days at NBC with the former Today yakker especially during today’s challenging times and he worships her and he’s the only late-night host who treats Kathie Lee like an A-lister but Nancy can’t stand Kathie Lee’s constant self-obsessed talk and considers her a squeaky third wheel 

Page 7: Cher keeps trying to turn back time with plastic surgery but the results have been disastrous and although she insists her most recent work is a facelift her kisser is frozen and packed with Botox and fillers and lip injections -- she also appears to have had a nose job and a face and neck lift to achieve a smooth jawline and neck and the results have left Cher barely able to move her face and even made it difficult for her to speak let alone sing, disgraced chef Paula Deen had emergency eye surgery this summer in a desperate bid to save her sight -- Paula had been suffering from declining vision for months and was shocked when doctors told her the cornea was dying and going under the knife was necessary to save her sight 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Tiger Woods took a brief break during practice, Leighton Meester caught some waves in Malibu, Kristen Taekman in a New York Jets bikini, Dolph Lundgren doffed his mask after leaving a lunch date in Beverly Hills, Dominic Cooper took his electric bike for a spin in London 

Page 11: Cash-strapped Tori Spelling and husband Dean McDermott are back in couples therapy and on the verge of filing for bankruptcy -- they’re in counseling for the same old stuff which is their constant fighting and spending money and work that isn’t happening -- the parents of five were hit with tax liens totaling nearly $1 million and were also sued by American Express over an unpaid credit card bill of almost $90,000 which Tori asked her mother Candy Spelling who is worth about $600 million to pay but Candy refused and after Candy revealed her plans to leave her fortune to animal charities Tori and Dean may file for bankruptcy because they both love to spend, Bravo bigwigs are hoping hotel heiress Kathy Hilton will fill the vacancy left by Denise Richards and Teddi Mellencamp on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and producers are trying to keep ratings high by getting veteran Kyle Richards to recruit sister and former castmate Kim Richards and half sister Kathy -- Kathy is said to be high on producers’ wish list because of her wit and humor and is also considered old-school Beverly Hills and show brass want her to bring a certain glamour and sophistication to the show 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Demi Lovato at a NYC screening party (picture), when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve in Times Square Anderson Cooper won’t be there because he would rather be at home with his baby boy, The Bachelor has cut all ties with Colton Underwood after his ex Cassie Randolph got a temporary restraining order against him, Teresa Giudice plans to move to NYC after listing her New Jersey mansion but she still wants to keep her job on The Real Housewives of New Jersey and to get around that Teresa hopes to pretend she’s moved into her brother Joe Gorga’s home in Jersey 

Page 13: John Legend revealed couples therapy helps strengthen his marriage to Chrissy Teigen and said they keep their romance going strong by communicating and being considerate and listening, Jackie Stallone was more than just Sylvester Stallone’s mom -- she was also one of the world top astrologers and psychics who predicted the fall of the Berlin Wall and Kanye West’s presidential run 

Page 14: Crime -- convicted Melrose Place killer Amy Locane is in lockup again for a fatal 2010 drunk-driving smashup that took one life and nearly took another after a New Jersey Superior Court Judge said she got off too easy by serving two years behind bars and sentenced Amy to eight more years in state prison 

Page 15: The gruesome house of horrors where Drew Carey’s ex-fiancee Amie Harwick brutally met her untimely end is on the market for $1.5 million and her family can’t wait to get rid of it, Shannen Doherty is in pretty good spirits amid her ongoing battle with stage 4 breast cancer according to her former Beverly Hills 90210 co-star Jason Priestley

Page 16: Cover Story -- After decades of turning a blind eye to her husband’s cheating Queen Elizabeth’s 72-year marriage has shockingly collapsed and Prince Philip is now banished to a remote cottage far away from the monarch -- despite royal courtiers painting a rosy picture of the couple quarantining together at Windsor Castle since March the truth is their marriage has been a sham for decades and they’ve been living separate lives for over 50 years and all this forced togetherness was simply too much for them -- Philip has been cheating on Elizabeth since before they were married and has several love children; he has rumored to have had flings with actress Helene Cordet and Daphne du Maurier and Pat Kirkwood and Jane Russell and Merle Oberon and Zsa Zsa Gabor and Princess Alexandria and Sacha Duchess of Abercorn and most recently Lady Penny Romsey -- there will be no divorce and they will just quietly continue their separate lives to the end of their days but the queen never wants to see Philip again 

Page 18: Larry King’s estranged wife Shawn Southwick is demanding $33,000 a month in spousal support because she claims she gave up her music and TV career to marry the frail talk show host and then raise their sons Chance and Cannon, Hollywood Hookups -- Halle Berry and Van Hunt dating, 90 Day Fiance stars Ashley Martson and Jay Smith split for good, Justin Duggar dating Claire Spivey 

Page 19: Tom Cruise is set to shoot the first major movie in outer space and he’s headed to the International Space Station in October 2021 with director Doug Liman -- the two and possibly one additional actor will hitch a ride aboard Elon Musk’s SpaceX Crew Dragon capsule to film the unnamed project, the IV needle allegedly used to administer the fatal dose of propofol to Michael Jackson on June 25 of 2009 is up for auction by the estate of the late singer’s father Joe and the chilling item used by Michael’s physician Dr. Conrad Murray is reportedly still stained with Michael’s blood -- it was submitted to the auction by Michael’s cousin Marsha Stewart who says she took it from Michael’s bedroom days after he died, Sharon Stone has pressed her lips on a long list of Hollywood hunks but picked Robert De Niro as far and away the best kisser but rated her other leading men as kind of like meh 

Page 20: Stars Playing Stars -- how they did it -- Muhammad Ali and Will Smith, Frida Kahlo and Salma Hayek, Ray Charles and Jamie Foxx 

Page 21: Marilyn Monroe and Michelle Williams, Queen Elizabeth and Helen Mirren, Billie Holiday and Diana Ross, Bob Dylan and Cate Blanchett 

Page 22: An adopted son of Mia Farrow and Woody Allen has charged it was his mother not his father who was the monster in the family -- Moses Farrow says Woody did not molest adopted daughter Dylan Farrow in 1992 and that he can no longer stay silent as Woody continues to be condemned for a crime he did not commit 

Page 26: Less than nine months after Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna died in a helicopter crash a vicious feud has ripped the family apart -- the row erupted between his widow Vanessa Bryant and her mother Sofia Laine after Sofia went on TV to publicly accuse her daughter of tossing her out of the family home -- Vanessa feels she’s already given her mom so much and then she heard through the grapevine that Sofia complained she should have more -- it does seem cold that Vanessa would take such action against her mother but she’s ready to take on anyone using her husband and child’s deaths as a selfish cash grab and that includes Sofia 

Page 27: Danny Masterson’s rape trial is looming and the Church of Scientology is doing everything in its power to back the scandal-scarred actor -- the church’s leaders have assigned their top lawyers to aid Danny who is a prominent member of the religion and the lawyers are scouring every law on the books to get the case thrown out or get him acquitted -- the church has previously been accused of trying to get the other side’s defenses dismissed or judges thrown off cases and using all manner of tactics to delay due process 

Page 28: American Life -- Bighearted ex-billionaire Chuck Feeney has spent 38 years giving away nearly all of his vast fortune and the generous do-gooder said he wouldn’t have had it any other way 

Page 29: Famed stoner Willie Nelson can’t stop sampling his own marijuana products and now friends fear the 87-year-old music legend is smoking himself to death -- Willie’s a believer in the powers of cannabis and promotes it passionately but years of smoking has done a number on his lungs and he can barely breathe at times, Julia Duffy has been keeping close a tragic heartache for more than a year -- her only son Danny Lacy committed suicide at age 29 after years of suffering from mental health issues 

Page 34: Comic Kathy Griffin has seen her popularity plummet in recent years and it’s played a role in her plans to sell her sprawling Bel Air estate -- Kathy has burned a lot of bridges and concerts and TV appearances have dried up because of her many industry conflicts so she’s trying to unload her massive manor with wine cellar and movie theater and eight bedrooms for $16 million -- she didn’t want to sell it but the cost and size have become too much for her to handle 

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: CIA bigwigs once hired a psychic to determine if there was life on Mars -- the misguided mission was said to be part of Project Stargate which was launched in 1978 and somehow cost an astronomical $20 million after the CIA hired a man who claimed he could see the surface of the planet in his mind -- the unnamed man claimed he could see huge pyramids and an obelisk structure and road networks on the Red Planet as well as living creatures, John Lennon’s killer Mark David Chapman shocked the parole board when he admitted he deserved the death penalty even as he begged for his freedom at his last hearing -- his murderous motive was seeking self-glory -- the board denied his parole saying they found his statement infamy brings you glory disturbing 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- London Fashion Week 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Luke Bryan and his dog Choc 

Page 47: Odd List -- doctors remove granny’s football-sized tumor 

#tabloid #grain of salt #tabloid toc #tabloidtoc #queen elizabeth #prince philip #queen elizabeth and prince philip #liz and phil #kanye west #angelina jolie #brad pitt #nicole poturalski #kelly clarkson #keanu reeves #ellen degeneres #jimmy fallon #kathie lee gifford #cher #paula deen #tori spelling #dean mcdermott #kathy hilton #the real housewives of beverly hills #real housewives of beverly hills #rhobh #john legend #chrissy teigen #jackie stallone #amy locane #amie harwick

[flimflamfranky]

the cp9 might be terrible at their jobs: a meta

so, water 7 + enies lobby is probably my favorite one piece arcs of all time: it introduces my favorite character, has that good character development, amazing villains, beautiful scenery. so ive frequently revisited it. and it always shocks me how much the cp9 don’t know. like, they don’t know jack shit. and i wanna talk about it. 

so, let’s review shall we? so, cp9 had four undercover agents: two as shipwrights (lucci and kaku), one w iceburg as his secretary (kalifa) and one in the town (blueno). they were sent to find the blueprints of the secret weapon, and were undercover for five years. this means that they started their work about 3 years after tom’s arrest and franky’s “death”. 

only eight years has passed since tom’s arrest. and tom was a well-known figure in water 7. he built the train that literally saved water 7 from poverty, and the people of water 7 know that. and even before then, he was known for being the guy that built the pirate king’s ship. and, on top that, he was the only (noticeable) fishman living on water 7, and given the sentiments on fishman, i doubt this went unnoticed. 

and people most likely knew about his apprentices too. people probably didn’t take too much interest in them, but they had to know they existed. franky and iceburg were always with tom, and they were prominently featured in tom’s arrest, franky especially, which was a highly public event! he bashed a government official’s head in, that’s the type of thing people remember. 

and yet- 

these guys barely knew iceburg was apprenticed to tom, and they only recently found out that franky even existed. and this baffles me because their boss was the one who got his face smashed. and spandam definitely holds a grudge over this, so he didn’t just forget about franky. spandam knew that there were two apprentices. and yet his underlings didn’t even know that for a majority of their time undercover. 

and! what’s more!! cp9 had never heard the name cutty flam before going undercover. the only reason their whole thing works and they get the blueprint is because cutty flam is written on the fake blueprints and they heard the name once when franky used it when he first returned to water 7. 

again, spandam knew who cutty flam was. he knew that cutty flam was apprenticed to tom, or, at the very least, somehow related. this was made very clear in franky’s backstory.

and he didn’t even think to mention that name to his underlings? cp9 knew that franky used the name cutty flam for four years, and they didn’t figure out anything until the very last second. 

though, i don’t think this is necessarily a plot hole or anything. there’s a simple explanation for why this happened and why cp9 didn’t know anything- 

and that’s because the government agencies are apparently really bad at communicating with each other. and spandam’s promotion to head of cp9 was more recent, so it’s possible that he didn’t deal with the agents that much. and his information was lost to the bureaucracy.

but, back to the title. this post is about how the cp9 are terrible at their jobs. im not saying they’re not strong, or that they’re not good assassins (tho i would say they’re not exactly quick and efficient), but they are terrible spies. like, their information gathering skills are the pits. 

they were in water 7 for five years. they knew that franky used the name cutty flam, and then went by a different name. lucci, kaku and kalifa all remember that moment. kalifa, at the time, even noted that the man seemed suspicious and definitely saw iceburg’s visceral reaction to the name-

and they didn’t think to investigate that?? they didn’t keep tabs on iceburg and follow him to that secret meeting he had with franky? those two discussed some very incriminating stuff in a unsecured location that would have been so easy to spy on. but no. 

and, they note that there are no records or anything on the apprentices. that makes sense, given that both of them were orphans or similar abandoned by their families. i doubt either of them lived in a orphanage or were ‘officially’ adopted by tom. paper-work wise, they were invisible.

but again, tom’s arrest was only eight years ago. that’s not very long. there has to be a public memory of those apprentices. again, one of them bashed an official’s head in. i wouldn’t be surprised if that was something people still talked about. at the very least, tom and his apprentices were common knowledge to the people of water 7. even tom’s trial and the details of it were public knowledge - that’s how spandam finds out about it. 

cp9 lived there for 5 years. even if they didn’t specifically seek it out, surely they would have heard something. something about the fishman who built the sea train, or his violent apprentice that based someone’s head in and ran around in speedos. blueno was a bartender, for pete’s sake! people tell bartenders everything! 

(and side note: someone had to make the connection between franky and cutty flam. yeah, franky changed a lot in his size and shape, but he was still a blue haired, speedo clad guy running around. and the speedo thing is definitely weird, people point it out all the time. so there can’t be that many guys like that around. someone in water 7 had to the make the connection. there had to be some sort of gossip mill running around about it). 

and yet, cp9 were completely in the dark about everything! i don’t think they did any proper spy work. they just waited until robin showed up and then got lucky with that fake blueprints. like, if iceburg hadn’t used one of the tom’s workers blueprints, cp9 would have never figured out who cutty flam was and would have never gotten those blueprints. 

those guys were just awful spies. 

#one piece #cipher pol number 9 #cp9 #rob lucci #franky #iceburg #meta #one piece meta #it was only 8 years!! #the way lucci talked about it made it seem like generations but it was only 8 years #that's really not a long time #they could have easily figured out about tom's apprentices #like if they had just poked around the city they could've found their old workshop #with pictures and everything #cp9 were just terrible spies #my stuff #i think they even knew about the workshop too #or were aware that franky used it

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

The Longest Attempt at a Proposal Ever (Part IV of VI) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) 

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary - Steve Rogers is a workaholic. For the past two years of dating him, you’ve known this, but now that the world has finally come to a sort of peace, you think it’s past time that he took a vacation. Little do you know that he has something else in mind for this trip.

Word Count - 1,639

Warnings - Language

Never before had I felt like I wanted to vomit and pee all over myself at the same time. It wasn’t a good feeling, and it wasn’t one I had been missing in my life. The fact that I was the reason for being in this position in the first place wasn’t lost on me either. But conquering this fear was important to me, and I knew I would be able to do it with Steve by my side.

At least I hoped so.

“Are you sure that you want to do this? You look pale.”

Leaning into his hand that was cupping my cheek I let out a sigh and opened my eyes to stare into those beautiful blue ones. The way his lips were pressed tight together showed his concern for me, and I leaned up to kiss them until they loosened. “Yes, I want to do this. It’ll be fun, right?” I said, my voice cracking at the end.

He shrugged. “It looks fun. I’ve never done anything like it before.”

Those words shook me out of my nerves, and I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’ve jumped out of more planes than I can count. Without a parachute! This has got to be easier than that.” I said, trying to reassure myself.

Steve grinned at me before turning his gaze back to the shore that was so far away now the people on it were barely the size of my thumb nail. “I guess we’re about to find out. If you’re sure you want to.” He asked again.

I took a deep breath and gripped his hand tight. “Let’s do this, Rogers.”

We made our way to the back of the boat where they strapped us in and gave us instructions on what to do if for some reason the parasail broke. It made me more nervous hearing that, but at the squeeze of Steve’s hand I realized that I was going to be okay as long as he was there with me. “Okay, on the count of three you guys are out of here. One -”

Before he could get to two, we had been launched in the air, me letting out an unflattering squeal as we were. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” I yelped, closing my eyes shut tight as I felt the wind whistling in my ears. I couldn’t believe I had done this. I couldn’t even look out the windows on the top level of Stark Tower without wanting to throw up, what made me think I was going to be okay parasailing?

It took several moments of deep breaths before I felt Steve’s hand making calming circles on my skin. “You trust me, Y/N?” I heard him ask.

I nodded.

“Then open your eyes.” He told me.

Slowly, my eyes flickered open, and I let out a gasp. With only the ocean below us, it didn’t even seem like we were as high in the air as we were. It was such a clear and dazzling blue if I looked close enough, I could see some marine life swimming around below us. The wind had calmed down to a faint sound in my ears and though my stomach still felt high in my abdomen, my blood pressure was dropping more to normal. “I think I see the appeal of jumping out of airplanes without a parachute now.” I called to Steve, turning my attention back to him, biting my lip at the sight. I hadn’t thought anything could be more amazing than the view I already had, but I was wrong. His hair gleamed gold in the sun and his eyes were almost as blue as the water below. For the first time in a long time, he looked relaxed. Like the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders.

Steve smiled back at me, brighter than the sun behind him. “If you jump out of a plane, you’re using a parachute.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” I told him, squeezing his hand. “I don’t think  I could do it without you anyway.” I added.

“You could,” Steve insisted. “You’re strong and brave. The smartest woman I know -”

I cut him off with a shake of my head. “Okay, let me rephrase. I wouldn’t want to do it without you. I was terrified to do this if you couldn’t tell.” I teased him. “But I knew I could do it. When you’re with me . . . I don’t know. I just feel like I can do anything. You make me stronger. You make me braver, and you make me smarter even though you might not believe that.” I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. “One of the many reasons I love you.”

We enjoyed the silence for several moments, just watching the ocean and listening to the wind, finding comfort and relaxation in each other’s presence until Steve spoke up. “When did you know?” Steve asked. “That you loved me?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Remember when I got food poisoning from that restaurant Tony forced us to go to? The next morning I was vomiting in my room like crazy, and it was gross. I’m sure you could hear it from outside, but that didn’t stop you.” I smiled at the memory of him opening the door and making sure I was decent before taking me in, no makeup, hair a tangled mess, skin sickly pale, and then tucking me into bed without a single concern. “I knew that if you could take care of me when I looked like that, before we were even dating, I wasn’t going to find anyone better than you.”

“You could.” Steve said. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that would do that for you. Someone who isn’t putting you in danger just by being with you or keeping you up late worrying because he’s on a mission -”

“I don’t want that. I want you.” I told him. “Baggage and all, Steve Rogers, I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it for as long as you’ll let me. All that stuff, the worrying and danger? It’s more than worth it to have you by my side. You’re more than I ever thought I would get in this life. I’m not giving you up.” I said, reassuring him with a squeeze of my hand. “You weren’t trying to break up with me eight hundred feet in the air, were you?” I teased.

“No! No!” Steve said, his eyes widening at the suggestion before he realized I was messing with him. “You’re it for me, y/n. There’s never going to be anyone else. I know that.”

The way that he said it, the sincerity and finality in his voice took my breath away. I could tell there was no doubt in his mind that he believed what he was saying. He had told me something along the same lines before, but hearing it now just felt like . . . so much more for some reason. “Glad we’re on the same page.” I managed to say. “Now, you don’t get to make a declaration like that without kissing me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve said with a smirk, leaning across the straps to meet my lips. I didn’t know if it was because of the adrenaline rush I was already feeling being at our current height, or if it was because of Steve’s words, but it was one of the best kisses I had ever had. I didn’t even feel like I was in my body anymore, wrapped in the sensation of his lips against mine, lost in him and everything he made me feel.

After what seemed like hours, he pulled away, causing me to let out a whine of disappointment, but kept us close, our foreheads still against each other. It wasn’t comfortable, but neither of us seemed to mind. “That was easily a top three.” I said.

Steve’s nose brushed against mine. “I’ve got to ask you something. Before I don’t get the chance.”

“Okay,” I murmured before pulling back so I could look at him. He was biting his lip and looked . . . nervous. I could tell this was something important. “What do you want to ask me?”

I watched as his chest moved up and down with a deep breath and how he closed his eyes for a moment before meeting mine with an intense gaze. “I-I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while. I’ve just been trying to find the right -”

“Shit!” Before he could finish his sentence I noticed our rapid descent back to the boat. Within seconds we were approaching the water. “Oh god, here’s the dip!” I let out a little scream as they dipped us into the water just enough to get us wet. His earlier words forgotten, I let out an exhilarated laugh at the sensation.  

I heard Steve sigh.

The two of us landed to safety on the deck of the boat that we had rode out on. It was only when we were in the sand getting ready for the trip back did I remember what he had said. “Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier? It seemed important.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, making sure he knew that he had all of my attention now.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll ask you later.” Steve told me, wrapping his arms tight around me so I could feel every inch of his body against me. It was such a nice and comforting feeling, those strong muscles holding me safe and . . .

“What’s that?” I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion at the hard case I felt against his thigh, reaching for his pocket.

Steve’s eyes widened.

Taglist: 

@ughhhxjazzy @appreciating-chase-brody @rockyroadthepastryarchy @castellandiangelo @stevieboyharrington

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: No Quirks AU Part II

Click here for Part I, Part III, and Part IV!

60 Works.

The Knight of Roses by Mikalua ( G | 1,608 | 1/1 )

Bakugou was about four when he meets the green haired dork with the fluffiest hair he has ever seen, and that was the moment he realized that he was in love. Bakugou was about eight years old when he punched the idiot that spilled his crushes ice cream into the floor and stomped on it to make him cry. Standing up, he walks off with a knowing smirk, without a word as Izuku watches in silent admiration. Bakugou was about nine when Izuku throws white daisies onto his face and starts avoiding him.

[On Hiatus] how to ruin a summer by falling in love by ethereals ( M | 13,449+ | 6/? )

summer camp au in which bakugou realizes how much he hates the color orange while growing to love the color green

spring snow by altruisticizuku ( G | 1,008 | 1/1 )

izuku is a bit of a lightweight and katsuki might be kinda jealous.

~~

bakudeku week 2018; day 2: romantic nights / dancing / your eyes

Series Part 2 of Bakudeku Week 2018

[On Hiatus] How We Came To Be by AShippingAddict ( E | 1,111+ | 1/9 )

The train lines to Kyoto were canceled. Bakugou Katsuki had to be there by today. Luckily Midoriya Izuku had a car.

An unlikely friendship blooms between these two college students.

free birthday gifts by ethereals ( E | 2,343 | 1/1 )

bakugou katsuki hasn't celebrated his birthday in years and izuku's about to change that

[On Hiatus] My one True Mate by Abitofeverything_ok ( E | 16,211+ | 5/? )

Midoriya could never come to term with the fact that he was born an omega. He just wasn't the type to be at home waiting for his alpha mate to take care of him and support him. He wanted to be the one supporting them also, to take of each other, to be equal partners. He grew up wanting to be a firefighter, he wanted to save other people even if that meant that he had to risk his own life. So when his hormones kicked in and he found out who his mate was he rejected him, which hurt his omega and moved away. He could have dealt with whoever it was, if it was anyone BUT him, Bakugou Katsuki. H could have resisted them but it WAS him and he had no chance. He was planning to live his life without his mate until life dealt him a twisted hand and he was forced to move back to his hometown.

Hero School Musical by Mochi_chan ( G | 10,777+ | 2/? )

Izuku Midoriya transfers to Yuuei High at the start of the fall semester, alongside his step-father and the school's new principal, Toshinori Yagi. While trying to adjust to his new school life, he finds himself combating the school's clique hierarchy when he auditions for the school's fall musical with his childhood friend and the basketball team's star, Katsuki Bakugou.

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

Also known as the KatsuDeku High School Musical AU no one asked for.

what if i had one more night for goodbye by altruisticizuku ( M | 1,569 | 1/1 )

izuku learns that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

~~

bakudeku week; day 7: apologies / scars / our future

Series Part 7 of Bakudeku Week 2018

reviving embers by ethereals ( T | 4,458 | 1/1 )

Katsuki keeps starting fires. Well, let’s reword that. He keeps setting off the fire alarms. He doesn’t always start fires. Sometimes he leaves his dinner on the stove for way too long or accidentally lights a candle underneath his smoke detector. He accidentally pulled the building fire alarm with his umbrella last week (don’t ask) and he may or may not have started a couple of actual fires as well—he really doesn’t know how the tiny grease fire in his kitchen started. And it just so happens that the fire alarm is going off right now.

Or: Firefighter!Deku au where Katsuki can't think of any other way to get his attention besides 'accidentally' starting fires.

Boneless by hottamale ( T | 4,136 | 2/2 )

Now logically speaking, Katsuki knew that that was fucking bullshit. Closed was closed, there would be no pizza for them tonight. If anything, they could probably go raid a McDonald’s or some shit, but that’s not what they wanted. They wanted pizza. But Katsuki wasn’t thinking logically right now, he was just thinking about the pizza and Izuku. Maybe if he was lucky he could have Izuku for a snack instead of the pizza.

Series Part 1 of It's a Concept

Dark Side of the Sun by Synnie ( T | 51,597 | 20/20 )

Staying up too late playing video games, Kirishima wasn't expecting to get an urgent call begging for help. Next thing he knew, he was letting his classmate Izuku Midoriya take refuge in his apartment - without consulting his always angry roommate.

Series Part 1 of Dark Side of Space

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence | Stalking | Self-Harm | Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault | Physical Abuse]

{ Curator’s Note: In this fic, it’s is not Bakugou abusing Izuku. It’s Izuku’s ex-boyfriend, Chisaki, who he is trying to get away from. Bakugou is Kirishima’s roommate. }

[On Hiatus] Stay Out Of The Light by KatsukiOrKatsudon ( E | 3,084+ | 2/? )

Inspired by the MCR's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge story of the Demolition Lovers.

Katsuki wants to administer justice to the one person that took Izuku's life away. Izuku comes back as a ghost not to haunt Katsuki forever, but help him find the murderer. Katsuki also wants to bring him back to life, and will go to any lengths to complete it, even collect the souls of 1000 sinners, a task by Satan himself.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

We're Literal Lame-o's by masteremeraldholder ( T | 5,943 | 1/1 )

Izuku just stands there. Not at all sure what to say. Not only because of his own confusion, also Kacchan’s… odd expression. His jaw is set in a firm grimace. And he keeps blinking really fast.

Really, he looks like a grumpy troll. But Izuku knows by now to keep his opinions to himself. “I thought,” He sits down, making sure there’s one seat between him and Katsuki. “You were busy with things.” He air quotes things.

Kacchan twiddles his thumbs. “I got finished early.”

Izuku’s head tilts to the side in genuine curiosity. “I thought you hated Marvel?”

Kacchan winces. “Y-yeah, well, I still do, but… this one… The trailer didn’t entirely suck ass.”

“I thought you didn’t—”

“Can we stop talking about your fucked-up thoughts, please?”

Series Part 3 of Schizophrenic Bakugou Part 1 of the fandom club

It's a Petty Life for Me by Sugarbabybitch ( T | 2,043 | 1/1 )

Bakugou Katsuki is a vampire.

Midoriya Izuku is mad at said vampire who also happens to be his boyfriend.

Pettiness is the result.

{ Curator’s Note: This fic is tagged as “implied future Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto.” }

[On Hiatus] Oubaitori by DriftingGlass ( M | 32,666+ | 4/16 )

From the moment he was born, Izuku understood that he was different. He was a rarity, an omega; not necessarily seen as useful or even desirable. It didn't take long, however, for his entire future to be placed in the hands of an alpha, one by the name of Katsuki Bakugo.

Through many pitfalls, confusion, and pains of growing up in a city where both are outcasts of their own kind, it takes more than just the threads of instinct and arranged contracts to bring two hearts together.

Love isn't fate. It's pure luck.

[Underage]

Late Bloomer by HG_Wells ( E | 4,752 | 1/1 )

It's the beginning of their last year of Junior High, Izuku Midoriya is a normal Beta. He isn't anything special, at least he doesn't think so. His first heat comes at school and in the end, he ends up at Bakugou Katsuki's house.

Alone with him.

What's the worst that could happen?

(It's better than it sounds I promise)

Bakudeku Week 2018

[Underage | Attempted Rape/Non-Con | Bullying]

{ Curator’s Note: The attempt was made “By an extra.” }

Cafe Mocha by HG_Wells ( T | 2,407 | 1/1 )

Everyone has a timer on their wrist that appears when they turn thirteen, they can never remove it until the moment the timer reaches zero and you find your Soulmate. Izuku Midoriya works at a cafe in downtown Tokyo and he finds his Soulmate in the worst way possible.

Bloom by anontigg ( M | 3,419+ | 3/4 )

Midoriya Izuku is in love with his childhood friend all his life. He thought keeping his feelings hidden would be fine...until his life is on the line.

(Basically a hanahaki disease au fic...and I suck at summaries. forgive me TT TT)

[Suicide Attempt]

[On Hiatus] The Wolf and the Rabbit by HG_Wells ( E | 4,876+ | 2/? )

In this world, the hierarchy is centered on strength. If you're part of a weak animal species, you're looked down upon by society. If you're part of a strong animal species, you're praised by society.

After the death of his Mother, Izuku Yagi leaves his hometown to live with his Father in Tokyo. His Father, Toshinori Yagi. Better known as All Might, he's the pinnacle of strength, a lion.

A new town, a new school, a new life. But when people find out that All Might's son is a rabbit... Well, things don't bode well for the skittish boy.

A gift for Deku by Hilarity_ensues ( Not Rated | 1,159 | 1/1 )

What happens when Izuku Midoriya has to type his thesis on the physics of goo in one entire night before the day of his birthday?

learning curve by calcidekudine (calciseptine)  ( T | 1,719 | 1/1 )

The first thing Katsuki notices about Model 8 is his waist.

Words Left Unspoken by ellslane  ( E | 39,926+ | 10/? )

“A part of Katsuki wants Izuku to let him go, move on, and find someone who’s capable of giving him the love he truly deserves. The love he can’t get from someone who lives city to city, working in a field whose requirements entail no attachments. But the bigger, more selfish part of him that was never reared by parents, authority figures, or humbled by being told no; wants Izuku all to himself, forever and always.”

Or, the one in which Katsuki is an assassin, Izuku is a cop, and they’re disgustingly in love. Chaos and angst ensues.

[Non-consensual Drug Use | Drug Addiction]

{ Curator’s Note: The writer said in the tags that “The tags don’t really relate to their relationship.” }

Ice Baths and Foul Balls by jalepenochip  ( Not Rated | 2,030 | 1/1 )

Baseball AU. Deku is an all-star pitcher and Kacchan is his catcher. They are quite the duo. They reminisce on old memories and share a few kisses ;)

Dance, Baby! by hottamale  ( G | 2,283 | 1/1 )

He was all straight lines and sharp edges, and Izuku found that his intensity could impale him and leave him for dead but he’d still pine for him. He just exuded an obscene amount of confidence that Izuku didn’t have, and it was incredibly attractive as much as his overly cocky attitude wasn’t. But who was he kidding, his cocky attitude was attractive in its own right. There was no going back for Izuku, he was already too far into it for there to be anyone else but Katsuki.

Series Part 4 of It's a Concept

[On Hiatus] Bombing King by brichibi  ( E | 4,154+ | 3/? )

Izuku Midoriya is a top student at a prestigious university who, like many others, listens to music while he studies. While looking for a new CD with his friends, he discovers the lyrical stylings of one Katsuki Bakugou, a rather aggressive musician who definitely earns that "parental advisory" label. It's not something Midoriya would listen to. No. Certainly not. He's not buying his CD. He's not watching his interviews. And he, most definitely, is not crushing on him.

Right?

[AU where Bakugou's a rock star and Midoriya is quickly becoming his number one fan]

Lights. Camera. Hero! by brichibi  ( E | 23,248+ | 6/? )

If there’s one thing Izuku Midoriya’s good at, it’s dreaming big, and dreaming hard. That’s why he’s in Hollywood, of all places, his hometown an entire ocean away along with his graduating high school class and single mother. But he’s gonna be an actor, an international sensation, a superstar like no other.

He just.

Has to convince the rest of the world.

Which is, admittedly, a difficult task.

[AU where "My Hero Academia" is an upcoming television series, everyone's an actor/actress, and romance happens behind the scenes]

Fairy Kisses by Eggs_in_a_cloud  ( G | 6,299 | 1/1 )

“You must be mistaken. If Midoriya had a boyfriend, he would have told us. We’re his best friends.” Tenya finds himself saying, trying to reposition his glasses that slid down his nose with shock.

Midoriya tells them everything. He’s a sharer. It’s what they do.

They discuss everything. So certainly, if Midoriya has a boyfriend, Tenya and Urakaka would already know.

“I don’t know, but maybe you should ask him.” Todoroki shrugs, and turns his focus to his yakisoba.

There must be a clause somewhere in the manual on friendship that you cannot not tell your best friends that you have a significant other.

Series Part 1 of Inseparable

[On Hiatus] How It's Supposed to Be by ceruleaneyes  ( Not Rated | 1,080+ | 1/? )

It was hard enough to have your best friend living miles and miles away, but it only gets worse when you start having feelings for them.

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF by kewltie  ( T | 8,450 | 1/1 )

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Echoes of Heroes by akirafudoismybitch (ElizaFelidae)  ( M | 607 | 1/1 )

After 300 years of peace, Valentia is thrown once again to the throws of war after one man who believes not in the power of gods, sends someone to kill a child of one. The wrong person is blamed and its up to the Deliverance to travel Valentia in effort to clear a wronged Noble's name and catch who is really responsible.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death]

Even Deku Can Beat You (And Yeah, He Can Beat Me, Too) by brichibi  ( E | 6,056 | 1/1 )

There’s an entire library of proper responses for this moment. Katsuki effectively incinerates them all when he laughs like he’s watching a comedian at work. “You wanna go against me? Me?! Come on, at least start with someone less skilled like-”

“Like you.” It comes out so smoothly from Izuku’s mouth. He can’t believe he’s actually said something so scathing. That’s not like him at all, but damnit, all he’d wanted was to spend quality time with his blockhead boyfriend, you know?

[AU where the arcade is the place to be, "Plus Ultra" is the hottest fighting game in town, Bakugou's bad at boyfriending, and Izuku's ready to KO his ass into the next century]

Blocked by sundaechii  ( G | 1,432 | 1/1 )

'You and ZuzuSmash both like All Might!'

Or: Katsuki finds a friend in omegle.

Prose for a Guilty Sadist by Rohen  ( E | 12,491+ | 3/? )

First, its the smell of pluming cigarette so dense its almost nauseating. A shrill laugh barely flickers above the music before the swell of sound sweeps it back, nothing but the tidal crashing of ambiance and music and throbbing walls able to be heard. Bodies are lit inhumanely under the shudder of strobing colors, skin flashes dark red and blue and green in an instant, dizzying and alien. The room is gorged--masses of people become single organisms as they move and writhe and dance. He can feel the movement reverberate in his bones and it's jarring to be standing still.

So he doesn't. He leaves. And keeps coming back.

But Bakugou finds something out about himself, though he tries to deny it, and for some reason Midoriya Izuku is like a magician pulling ropes of things he's never wanted to know about from inside of him.

{ Curator’s Note: This work has the tags “Minor Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou” & “slight bakugou/dabi”. }

Lovebites by mynameis152  ( E | 84,301+ | 25/? )

Katsuki Bakugou was going to hate this summer.

He thought he'd hate it because he was being forced to leave home and work for his mother's friend in a small, seaside town. He thought he'd hate it cause he was being punished for burning his room to a crisp. He thought he'd hate it because he hated change.

But it turns out, he hated the Supernatural Turfwar between four species that shouldn't exist but do a whole lot more....

Or

The one where Katsuki is forced to move in with Inko for the summer and finds himself falling for a particular bloodsucker....

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore) | Suicide Attempt]

[On Hiatus] Young & Menace by starpouches  ( M | 1,953+ | 1/? )

In a city where teen gangs and delinquents cause a lot of trouble and the police and government are not willing to do anything against it as they claim it to be a "minor issue" and "kids being rebels", Midoriya Izuku, who is an exemplary student, is still investigating the sudden disappearance of his childhood friend Bakugo Katsuki, who has gone missing for over four years since their second year in Middle School. Now, being a second year in High School, they both reunite per coincidence and Izuku suddenly realizes that his childhood friend is part of one of the dangerous teen gangs of the entire city.

[Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence]

{ Curator’s Note: It is not explicitly stated whether or not the domestic violence is between Bakugou and Midoriya. }

Go to Bed, Dumbass by sunsetsundae  ( M | 38,191+ | 18/? )

"What the fuck are you doing here at two in the morning?" The blond male asked in a voice that was closer to a growl as he curled the weight he was holding.

"I could ask you the same question," Izuku replied with a small smile as he headed for the bench press.

[Internalized Homophobia]

you are the only exception by barracuddle  ( T | 11,808 | 2/2 )

Izuku's soul mark appears when he's five. Izuku falls in love with someone else.

[Implied/Referenced Self-Harm]

Rule No.1: No Swearing in the Commons by hottamale  ( T | 3,836 | 1/1 )

Even with the top tier chat you're still never safe from being perma banned. Rule number one to avoiding that problem: no swearing in the commons.

Series Part 6 of It's a Concept

Undercover by MoniHitachiin  ( G | 4,954+ | 2/? )

Un juego está causando furor en la clase a la que asisten. Dos chicos deciden entrar a esa aventura sin decirle a nadie y por azares del destino se conocen sin saber que son compañeros de clase. ¿Qué sucederá cuando se relacionen más de la cuenta?

Home by peacheszxcx  ( Not Rated | 434 | 1/1 )

From the prompt: "How do you let go of someone that feels like home?"

Series Part 2 of Kismet

Group chats dont help by SinisterArtist  ( Not Rated | 2,586+ | 2/? )

LemmeSMASH: Izuku Baku-Gone: Katsuki Auto-Zone: Iida Birb: Tokoyami Kermit: Asui SugarRush: Sato Mummified saviour: Aizawa Best Dad: Toshinorni Hentai Haven: Mineta HotDemon: Mina Taze Me: Kaminari Anti-social Headphones kid: Jiro The Office: Sero Class Mom: Momo Cant see me: Toru Todoki doki: Todoroki Snow white: Koda Just here: Mezo Tails: Ojiro Unicorn: Ayoama Sharknado: Kirishima

This is a chatfic. Enjoy. I litterally dont know what I was doing. Oh well.

Dress Him Up by peacheszxcx  ( Not Rated | 960+ | 1/? )

Out of nowhere he finds this calling card “Do you look like shit? Call this fucking number if you want to look like a fucking person -Bakugou Katsuki XXXX-XXXX-XXXX.”

Series Part 3 of Kismet

Stargazing by Yunael  ( G | 1,311 | 1/1 )

Twin Stars Week, jour 1 : Observer les étoiles.

Lorsque je me suis réveillé ce matin, j'ai constaté avec effroi que je ne me trouvais pas chez moi. Ma chambre n'était plus celle que je connaissais, et lorsque je suis passé devant un miroir, j'ai bien cru défaillir. La personne se trouvant devant celui-ci... Ce n'était pas moi.

Series Part 1 of Twin Stars Week 2018

All Eyes on You by ibreatheakaashi  ( M | 4,254+ | 1/? )

“Bakugou!” Uraraka pulls on him, forcing him to trail behind him. He hangs back, getting a clear look of him. He looked the same, same blonde wild hair, unable to be contained- just like him. His piercing red eyes stared directly at him, they were hardening and unmerciful, just as he remembered.

His sleeveless black and grey plaid jacket, showing of his bare arms. They were still muscled, he suspected it was due to Kirishima well being. Underneath his plain white shirt nearly see through, the jeans he wore couldn’t possibly be anymore tighter, hell they looked good.

---

aspiring ballet dancer Midoriya Izuku dreams of following in his mother's footsteps, he wants to become the best. when he gets into Julliard, his dreams become true one step at a time. he finds out that his childhood friend Bakugou Katsuki, a talented hip-hop violinst is also attending. he believes he changed. but did he really? or is he the same arrogant boy he met 5 years ago? can they work together and rebuild their friendship, and if so than will he fall to him?

[Panic Attacks]

confessions aren’t meant to be done drunk (but i’ll make an exception for you) by castawayastronaut  ( Not Rated | 4,201 | 1/1 )

Izuku comes back from a 2-month trip, with a couple of knick-knacks and realizations.

We are Live by Polarbeater  ( E | 1,794+ | 1/? )

Katsuki makes a living by streaming himself playing video games. He's spent a long time gathering a popular fanbase behind him so how does this newcomer get just as popular as him so much faster? Maybe he has more experience streaming than his fans think.

or

Streamer Katsuki and rival Izuku who also secretly doubles as a camboy.

[Mentions of Homophobia]

you and i collide by ethereals  ( M | 1,588+ | 1/2 )

And not that Bakugou’s the type to sexualize a potentially dead body; especially one that he just accidentally murdered, but the man has some pretty solid DSL’s. He would hit it, with more than just his car.

OR

in which rich fratboy! bakugou is a badass who accidentally hits poor med student!izuku with his car and chaos ensues therefore.

Uhh really at school? by sadklqmo  ( M | 797 | 1/1 )

Izuku just can’t help himself when it comes to Katsuki

[Underage]

You've Got Me In My Feelings by karmaticinstitution  ( E | 4,524+ | 1/3 )

In which Bakugou is a nerdy jock who acts like he's badass, Izuku is the new kid and collects everyone's hearts immediately. They start off a little wobbly, hookup, and things get a little messy.

The Reviews

“I thought you said you were doing homework” -My Roommate

"Like a shitty romance movie... but shittier" -Myself

[Underage]

Project: Heat by ellslane  ( E | 2,914 | 1/1 )

Katsuki can do this. He can control himself around Deku, who’s scent has spiked in sweetness and is dripping in pheromones. He can maintain his composure as they work together on a school project. He can keep himself in check as his stupid smell wafts through the air, and directly into his nose.

He can’t do this.

[Underage]

We Are Wanderers Still by semiautomatichearts  ( M | 7,444 | 1/1 )

His body is inundated in a halo of blue flowers, half buried beneath the gentle flow of a stream, and more a garden than a child when police at last discover him.

There had been a smile upon his face, warm in its innocence despite the decay evident in the skin, just beneath the cover of fluttering petals.

They called him lovely, hauntingly welcoming even in death.

It was only fitting that Bakugou Katsuki would follow.

[Major Character Death]

Once and Future Thing by Daiako (Achrya)  ( M | 16,127+ | 5/? )

When Shouto and Izuku accompany Tenya to take one last look at his childhood home before it's put up for sell they're expecting to lend some emotional support and to maybe see some embarrassing baby pictures. They do not expect to accidentally release three spirits from a shrine or for those spirits to declare them their 'wives' and partners.

Now, on top of school and work, they had to deal with the amorous advances of their spirits, help them atone for the crimes that got them locked up to begin with while adapting to the modern world, and figure out how exactly one gets out of a soul bond without any side effects.

Dear Future Boyfriend by peacheszxcx  ( G | 2,055+ | 16/? )

Dear Future Boyfriend, You probably don't know even know me yet, so I guess I have to introduce myself. Hi! I'm Midoriya Izuku, your future boyfriend. I hope I could meet you soon! <3 Love, Izuku

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by kewltie  ( M | 1,834+ | 1/? )

Even the devil got nothing on Bakugou Katsuki, but it may have hand him something else. Something otherworldly, something scaly and with a tail.

Series Part 7 of Gravitation

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

¡Plus Ultra! by StormRebel_Love  ( T | 9,195+ | 6/? )

Katsuki Bakugou esta orgulloso de su trabajo como actor/ modelo, pero siempre había algo que siempre quiso ser de un modo, estar en el mundo de !Plus Ultra! una serie animada con varias películas hechas y la oportunidad de ser parte de él apareció en su vida, pero lo que no esperaba era toparse con un huracán torpe llamado Izuku Midoriya que lo hace sentir cosas que antes nunca había sentido en toda su maldita vida.

Gracias a mai lub por ser mi beta y a mi hija por decirme que no soy tan meca para hacer aus , las quiero!

Quiet by thepizzaman ( Not Rated | 12,366+ | 2/? )

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for him, for once, since moving to the city. His job was secure, he had people to watch his back, and had a cheap apartment. Despite the outward appearance that hatred was looming in the air between him and his coworkers, they put up with him, and thanks to their manager they all had convinced themselves it was their personal duty to annoy the hell out of Bakugou in order to uncover the secret soft side he absolutely did not have. So far, he was good. But all that was thrown onto it’s head when Izuku Midoriya stumbled into the bar on a slow Friday night, already half way drunk. 

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Abusive Relationships | PTSD]

{ Curator’s Note: The abusive relationship tagged is not BakuDeku. }

Heart Out by minzie  ( E | 75,366+ | 13/? )

Bakugou Katsuki was not the type of person you’d call in an emergency. Sure, he’d help you out if he was standing right next to you and you were about to get stabbed because of his damn hero complex, and because he’s maybe, kind of, somewhere a decent person, but that’s about it.

It was just his luck that someone needed saving tonight, in more than one way.

Marigold and Hellebore by TheAngstyDuo  ( Not Rated | 8,042 | 1/1 )

Bakugou.

Mid-20s. Male. Japanese. Blood type AB.

Valedictorian in his class. Excellent combat skills, both hand-to-hand and far range. He has been chosen and agreed upon to be reassigned to the Facility. There, he will stand post at the main botany lab of Sector 3.

Luckily, he did not question about what the Facility holds but on what to do during his time here.

Though when he was brought to that main botany lab, accompanied by one of the older guards who was much older by ten years and much more experienced, he was introduced to the main researchers. Or rather, the heads or botanists - the ones that he will have to guard around.

[Major Character Death]

An Oasis for You and Me by SecretKiwi  ( E | 5,309 | 1/1 )

A prince and his retainer form a bond and grow closer than expected.

To be a hero by insertsmth  ( G | 2,760+ | 1/? )

Another day on the job for Dr. Eva Rosalene and Dr. Neil Watts. Today's patient, Bakugou Katsuki, is like any other to them.

Their mission: to fulfill his dying wish, if only in his mind.

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

An Alternate Universe where there are no quirks, and where, despite everything, they kept finding each other and lived a fulfilling and happy life as seen through the eyes of Eva Rosalene and Neil Watts.

[Major Character Death]

#BakuDeku #KatsuDeku #BNHA #bkdkfl masterlist #masterlist #g:au #au:np #w:violence #t:abuse #t:sh #w:rape #w:underage #t:bullying #t:s #t:addiction #w:mcd #t:homophobia #t:panic #t:ptsd #curator ellie #long post

[kirain]

Top Ten Favourite Anime Games

For this list, I will only be including games that are specifically considered part of the anime genre, NOT games that were created by Japan Studio or other Japanese companies/creators. So games like shadow of the colossus,  Bloodborne, Metal Gear, Resident Evil, etc., won’t be mentioned. While it is arguable that such games could fit the anime genre, it’s never been clarified. So here’s a list of my top 10 anime games.

1. Gravity Rush

There’s no real order for this list EXCEPT for Gravity Rush. It is easily my number one favourite pick. I bought it for next to nothing thinking it would be a cute little experience, but it ended up gripping my interest for four days straight; which is rare for me. While at work, all I could think about was getting back to it, and it’s one of the few games with trophies that didn’t annoy me. Seriously-- not one trophy pissed me off. In every game there’s at least two or three that really grind my gears, but Gravity Rush had nada.

There are several challenges in the game that are tough but fair, and they never become boring because they’re designed in such a way that the more you play them, the better you get. You begin to learn the controls, the landscape, the shortcuts, etc., which makes for some excellent gameplay. At no point in the game do you feel like a failure, which is nice once in a while. On top of that the story is fun, the characters are lovable, and the art is breathtaking. During each new chapter, we’re given information in the form of a hand-drawn manga, which only adds to the uniqueness. The language in the game is also made up, so anyone can relate to it. And the music? Oh, don’t even get me started:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxIC6Vu1ee0&t=43s

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, they went ahead and created a sequel, Gravity Rush 2! It’s pretty rare, in my opinion anyway, that video games have sequels that measure up to their predecessor, but Gravity Rush 2 might be even better! It lets us revisit old friends, make new friends, explore more areas, it gives us grater challenges and a newly implemented difficulty setting, and additional online adventures that have nothing to do with achievements! What really hits me about these games, though, is the freedom. You get to fly wherever you want, anytime you want, at ridiculous speeds. The world is vast, beautiful, and so fun to navigate.

After playing and falling in love with these games, I can only assume they’re called “Gravity Rush” because they’re an absolute rush to play.

2. Devil May Cry

Specifically the first game, Devil May Cry will always have a special place in my heart. I played the game a lot when I was in grade school and kept replaying it well into my high school years. All the way up until my PS2 broke. :’)

Now, I do know that this game was created by Capcom and that it was supposed to be related to the Resident Evil franchise, but director Hideki Kamiya openly stated that the game is an anime-style hack and slash action-adventure game, and even gave the anime T.V. show, Devil May Cry: The Animated Series by Shin Itagaki, his professional seal of approval.

That said, Devil May Cry is addictive with its brutal but charming character Dante, and its dark and twisted plot/gameplay. If you’re into cool characters, blood and guts, and kick-ass combat, this is the game for you!

3. Catherine

Another nostalgic game for me, Catherine was something I played constantly when I was in high school. The animation is enticing, the story is a giant mind f*ck, and the English voice acting is stupendous. Like many story-related anime games, it has multiple endings, as well as a karma metre that wraps into your choices. The story revolves around a man named Vincent  Brooks, who is beset by supernatural nightmares while torn between his feelings for longtime girlfriend Katherine and the similarly-named beauty Catherine.

While the game is mostly a platformer, the challenges are unreal, especially in Babel (an extra area not related to the story) and the arcade game, Rapunzel. If you want your brain to turn to mush, I’d suggest setting this baby to the hardest difficulty. Naturally there’s a trophy for beating everything with a gold time, so if you get that you’ll be able to gloat to all your friends about how smart you are. XD

Jokes aside, though, there are other aspects to the game that keep you going. You won’t get bored of the platforming because between each level is the story, given to us in two distinct anime styles, and a trip to the bar, where you can get drunk and interact with other characters. Depending on the dialogue you choose, you could be responsible for their dreams coming true ... or their untimely death. A remake of the game will be coming out for PS4 next year and I can’t wait to play it!

4. No More Heroes

No More Heroes is another action-adventure hack and slash video game that follows a man named Travis Touchdown ... who is a hardcore otaku. Literally all he cares about is killing and anime, which makes for a hilarious story. Travis is also a top-class assassin in a world where assassins constantly compete. Think John Wick: The Anime. This game is full of comedy and combat, as well as cool characters, crude challenges, and a cuddly kitty cat. I played this game religiously when I was in high school, and enjoyed it even up to it’s weird mind f*ck of an ending. The only downside being that it’s only available on Wii, which made for an interesting and unique experience, but a sad realisation that it will never be available for any other platform.

5. Trauma Center: Second Opinion

Just like No More Heroes, Trauma Center: Second Opinion is only available on Wii; but that in no way affected my love for it. Second Opinion is the second game in a long line of Trauma Centers, but for some reason it’s the only one I enjoy. Perhaps it’s because playing it on the Wii gave it a sense of realism. The game is a surgery simulator, and like an actual surgeon, you have to concentrate and keep your hands steady to succeed. If you move too quickly or throw yourself off balance, the patient will die. The art and music are also incredible and, believe it or not, there’s actually a pretty interesting story that goes along with each chapter. As you work your way to more advanced operations, you really take a liking to the characters and feel a strong sense of duty to your patients. To anyone who owns a Wii, this is definitely a game I’d recommend.

6. Chibi-Robo!

Chibi-Robo! This game takes me back! I spent hours upon hours playing this game, and I still would today if my copy hadn’t been stolen. This little treat is only available on the Wii and GameCube, and was created by Nintendo. It’s one of the most adorable platform-adventure games I’ve ever played to date. The Wiki explains the plot perfectly, so I’ll just post it here:

“Chibi-Robo! takes place in a 1960s-style American home and revolves around a tiny, highly advanced robot of the same name. He is given as a birthday gift to a socially withdrawn eight-year-old named Jenny Sanderson by her father. This is much to the dismay of Jenny's mother, a homemaker who is constantly stressed over how much money her husband spends on toys despite his unemployment.”

For a game that seems so basic, there are a plethora of areas to explore and they are huge. Ironically so, I’m sure, but it makes for some amazing gameplay nonetheless. As you wander, you help other creatures around the house, including the family, solve their problems and complete challenging and often comedic tasks; such as flipping burgers, cleaning up puddles, and-- you know-- helping the egg general save his fellow egg soldiers from the household dog. Yeah, stuff like that. XD

Honestly, it’s super fun and I recommend it to anyone, no matter what their age. It’s clearly geared towards children, but I can’t think of a single reason why an adult wouldn’t enjoy it just as much. It’s relaxing, freeing, and puts a genuine smile on your face. :)

7. Pokemon X and Y

Okay, I know I probably shouldn’t add Pokemon to this list, but I can’t help it! I’ve always loved the Pokemon games, but they just get better and better every time! Pokemon X and Y quickly became favourites of mine, and they consumed my life for a good two months as I captured every single Pokemon, bred the perfect IVs, and worked my ass off to get every shiny I desired. On top of that, I loved the story and, for once, how my character design turned out. What’s more, I fell absolutely in love with the Looker side quest, which is possibly the best and most emotional side quest I’ve ever played in a Pokemon game. X and Y will always be special to me, because in was with these two games that I caught ‘em all!

8. Pokemon Sun and Moon

Visually, Pokemon Sun and Moon are the best of the Pokemon games, in my opinion. They were also the first to really shake things up and give fans new and improved methods of breeding, capture, travel, communication, and more. We were also introduced to a new type of pokemon called “ultra beasts”, along with a fun and alluring story with several new characters and legendaries. Throughout the game, I found myself laughing hard at some of the experiences, and I spent countless hours capturing, trading, breeding, spoiling, and loving all of the new pokemon the games had to offer. I even transferred my pokemon from X and Y over so I could give them the same love and affection. ^_^

I have to thank @cassafra5 and @george-nordington, because they’re the ones who bought me this masterpiece! Thanks, guys! <3

9. .hack//OUTBREAK

This is a game that will always be near and dear to my heart. Back before guides were widely available, I was playing a game called .Hack//OUTBREAK. It came out in 2002, when I was only 12 years old. Back then, my dad was still alive. He never really understood my taste in anime, but he wanted to try and relate, so he bought this game for me on a whim. Little did he know I knew absolutely nothing about the .Hack series, and little did either of us know that OUTBREAK was actually the third part to two other .Hack games. Still, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I played the game-- and I fell in love.

Visually, OUTBREAK was one of the best games I owned on PS2, and although parts of the story were difficult to follow, I was hooked. I dedicated entire days to this game, and because there weren’t any guides, I had to write down every code and location so I wouldn’t get lost/forget them. Today, I still have pages folded safely in the case. The amount of exploration and character interaction opened me up to a whole new genre of video games. In fact, it basically introduced me to anime-style games. I could actually buy gifts for my friends and build relationships. That seems common now, but back then it wasn’t for a typical PS2 game.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck when the save cartridge was accidentally kicked by my brother and all of my data was lost. I wasn’t too concerned, since I figured I could just replay the game and get everything back ... but the disk was also severely, irreparably scratched. It no longer plays. As such, it is now merely a keepsake from my father. I miss you, dad.

But 16 years later and my sister and I are still quoting this game! XD @alannahkiwi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I-7hwgwqa4

10. Persona 5

I only recently started playing Persona 5, but it’s quickly made its way to my top ten. I can’t say too much about it just yet, aside from the fact that the animation is crisp, the story is gripping, and I’m ready to sink hours of my life into platinuming this gorgeous feet of human achievement! So much heart and sole was poured into this game and it shows with every in-game step I take. This is the only game on this list that I haven’t yet finished, but I have a sense that I don’t really need to. Thus far, every mission has been a gem and I don’t want the party to end!

#gravity rush #devil may cry #Catherine #full body #no more heroes #trauma center #chibi robo #pokemon #pokemon x #pokemon y #Sun and Moon #.hack #outbreak #nintendo #wii #gamecube #ps2 #ps3 #ps4 #playstation #video games #anime #persona 5