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scourgiez · 3 months

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(tumblr made this so crunchy, click for a better res!)

(Edit: I added more stuff and changed some things because yeah I’m obsessed w these two)

love love everyone’s headcanons about Astarion’s now-forgotten family and decided to make my own! As well as my own story about them. I hope my handwriting is readable :”)

As for a brief summary of his parents, (at the start of the BG3 game, because I headcanon them to still be alive somewhere)

Analelle is a moon high elf and is 391 years old. Definitely the smarts of the family. Very quiet and discrete yet cunning when she wants to be. Has a permanent “knowing look”. Usually about 2-3 steps ahead of you at all times.

Lithuryn is a half sun/half moon high elf and is 410 years old. Has dreams of being a noble within Baldur’s Gate and living lavishly with the other nobles there. He isn’t home very much. His work usually takes over his life.

Lots and lots more, sorry folks but i went crazy about these two:

Analelle and Lithruyn lived in Evereska, both working in politics or law within the community and meeting each other through their work. They weren’t exactly nobles within the community but they were very well-off and would be considered upper class. You can headcanon whatever age you want for Astarion but I always lean towards ~240 because it makes the most sense game-wise. They had him when they were in their 150s (about. Math x—x) while still in Evereska, however he only lived there until he was about 15 or so. (I have toyed with the idea of him having an older sibling (about +60 years or so) who ran off and became a druid after they loved to Baldurs Gate and hasn’t really contacted the family since…but that’s just a random theory because fun fact! I read somewhere that High elves are pretty infertile and usually only have a family of 3. So yeah I will leave out rebellious older Druid sibling for now. For now…)

The Ancunin's arrived to Baldur's Gate to work for a highly regarded law firm. This place was the cat's meow even though life was definitely different than it was in Evereska, as they were nobles there. Here, while they are still very wealthy, aren't exactly bumping elbows with the Baldurian nobles. (yet)

Even though they were still forming these connections, they were pretty popular within the elven communities in the city. This unfortunately was how Cazador was alerted to their presence and began his “hunt”. Really, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Astarion had a target on his back for a long time before he died.

Astarion becomes a magistrate through these connections his parents have been making. They absolutely pull strings for him and we’re able to land him a very nice, high-paying job even if Astarion was a little under qualified for the position. Everyone was happy not only because of his job, but that given his upper class clientele he can easily work his way into becoming the Baldurian noble his parents were hoping for. Even if he was corrupt and not the best of people.

The story goes on and as you all know Astarion dies in his mid/late 30's due to the Gur attack. I have more headcanons regarding elf age here, which also talks about how elves dying due to murder is extremely rare in elven communities, so Analelle and Lithuryn just thought it literally could never happen. As for age, I can't describe it all here (it's all in the post I linked), but no Astarion was far from being a "child" biologically, he did however lack the life experience of someone who would have made it to 100 years old.

When they find that Astarion’s grave was defaced and his body missing, they were completely outraged. They were angrily contacting every single high noble of Baldur’s Gate and were on a wild emotionally-charged manhunt to find whoever did this. Cazador knew about this (duh) and started up his plan on how to deal with it. He purposely picks the people that don’t have many connections, but he clearly underestimated how involved the Ancunin family was. It was, at that point, easier to have the town turn against them than kill them and cause a big stink.

This all happened throughout the course of... a week or so. They were getting threatened every day, lost their jobs quickly, and their old noble connections turned against them. Unsure of how Cazador would do this but I can imagine he is really really good at it. They had to leave Baldur's Gate out of fear, never really knowing what happened to Astarion and generally being confused about the whole thing. This is also why Astarion never just. ran into them when he was prowling the streets and even if he had memory of them he wouldn't know where they went, and also why his grave stone was so unkept.

I can’t decide if they picked up their pieces back at Evereska and lived a modest life there, trying not to be noticed, or if they now live away from civilization in order to stay safe. It’s sad but unfortunately that’s just the way it goes with vampires :”)

As for eyes, I headcanon Astarion’s eyes to be blue with gold flecks (like his father’s) because I headcanon him to be a moon elf along with his mom. As much as I adore golden eyes him being a moon elf just makes so much sense! I might change my opinion at random because I’m so indecisive.

Anyway, I hope my incoherent rambles make sense. If i forgot something important lore-wise and it doesn’t fit in with these headcanons… let me know, but if anything this can be an AU. I spent so much time thinking abt it lol.

#the ancunin family #astarion ancunin #analelle ancunin #lithuryn ancunin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion’s family #bg3 astarion #my art #‘salen avae’ is elvish for ‘my joy’ btw ^^

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ancunincurator · 4 months

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Some Astarion musings...

These are some headcanons I felt like jotting down. Feel free to discuss your own interpretations.

The second time he propositions you, I truly believe he is already into you. Not love, or anything close to it. But the way he lets you in on the game just feels like it's because you're not really part of it any more. I know some people view this as Astarion toying with you, being cruel and potentially mocking. And I definitely think he's playing with you, but to me it's because he enjoys your company and isn't really using these tricks on you any more, and trusts you enough to let you in on it. The way he reacts if you turn him down, admitting your time together was special to him. The way he says it's hard not to have fun with you when you play along with him. I don't think he realises how deeply he's started to fall into his own trap.

I think, if romanced, Astarion always intended to turn you once he ascended. Maybe not into his spawn, but he intended to grant you immortality. What drives him to desire ascension? Fear. What drives most of his actions and reactions? Yup, you guessed it. And while it was immensely brave to open himself up and enter a relationship, can you imagine the new layer of terror that comes with loving someone? To have something to lose when you've only ever had yourself to worry about? When you speak to him after his siblings attack the camp, he can say "I'm doing this for you too, you know. To make sure we're both safe. Forever. For good". He says it with such intention. Forever. For good. But you don't have forever together, not unless he can do something about it. Which also makes sense why AA sees you as a possession, because he ran away from that fear of losing you by making sure he gets to keep you forever. (Also, I don't think Astarion is manipulating you when he says he wants to ascend for you both. Though he does it plenty in act 3)

A silly one, but I've seen people say that the graveyard sex was a spontaneous moment of passion. However, when you ask him before you both leave for the graveyard if he's giving up on walking in the sun, he replies that he's "Re-accessing what I want. What I really want." And my goodness... the tone is dripping with desire my friends. It's like The leg thing™ but in words. So I think, for maybe the first time in his life, Astarion had a plan from beginning to end.

I think Astarion was wild back in his magistrate days, a real hedonist. I'm talking regular orgies, hungover rulings, a true nepo-baby making the most of his beauty and youth. And I think 200 years later he feels nostalgic for it, but it's really only the feeling of privilege, freedom and the lightness of someone without trauma that he misses. I've never done the brothel scene with him, but I've seen it. When you go post Cazador he says he wants to "Try enjoying things like this again". He only says this after a night of passionate sex with the one he loves where he was totally willing and present and he felt good the whole time. So I think, at that moment in the brothel, he's riding that high. It takes him back to the old days for a moment. But then during, he's harshly reminded he's not that young elf anymore, he feels fingers bump over the scars on his back and is suddenly a million miles away.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x durge #bg3 headcanons #bg3 #Sorry for any mistakes I just felt like rambling #nsft

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tragedybunny · 4 months

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Stitches in Time

༺Summary༻

A triple drabble reflecting on Astarion and Serafina's relationship

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings / Tags༻ Angst , Hurt no comfort

༺Word Count༻ 300

༺A/N༻ I went into a trance a wrote this between DnD combat rounds. I don't know what it is. Silly probably.

He's 239 years old, he's sewing Serafina's shirt in a tent after a battle. A wound that wasn't serious but caused his stomach to drop anyway. A feeling he doesn't know what to do with yet.

He's 241 years old, and he's hastily repairing the lace on his cuff. If Sera finds out it tore an hour before the wedding, she'll have a nervous fit.

He's 242 years old, and he's working in secret while Sera sleeps. Her favorite dress no longer fits around the growing bump they've named Estelle.

He's 247 years old, and he's sewing the eye back on a stuffed bear while somehow also comforting the crying girl in his lap. Her every tear is a knife in his heart, and he'd do anything to soothe her.

He's 267 years old, and he's stitching a wound shut on Estelle's pale skin. “I won't tell your mother if you promise to stop living like this,” he warns the ambitious little criminal.

He's 278 years old, and he's working elaborate beading onto a dress in the morning light, while he and Sera chat. Tomorrow he'll surprise his little girl for her birthday. She's come so far, a magistrate herself,with political ambition.

He's 295 years old, and he's sewing a tiny little dress. A grandchild, him, did the gods take leave of their senses one day. The thought makes him giddy.

He's 359 years old, and he's embroidering violets into a handkerchief, a futile gesture, something pretty to catch the blood. She's far too young and no one knows why, damage from the tadpole they guess with haunted looks.

He's 361 years old, and he's stitching black lace onto diaphanous fabric. The last gift he'll ever give her. One she'll take with her into the cold, dark ground tomorrow.

Tag list

@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x female oc #bg3 tav #bg3 tav: serafina #my fanfic #my writing

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supersaiyanjedi14 · 9 months

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Talking with @rogueleader14 about our respective Star Wars AUs made me decide to share more characters who exist in it, as well as their stories. As I've alluded to elsewhere, this AU draws on all corners of Star Wars canon, be it Disney, Legends, LEGO, or in this case, Visions. I finally got around to watching both seasons this year, and I jumped at the chance to incorporate some of the characters in my AU. These are the micros I've made so far for these characters. Story details under the cut. All of them are in the post-Return of the Jedi setting.

-The Ronin, real name Douga Heian, was a child during the Clone Wars, his Force-sensitivity never manifesting until later in life. By the time that happened, the Empire had risen and he was picked up by the Inquisitorious rather than the Jedi. Though a promising talent and initially loyal to the Empire, he gradually became more aware of the Empire's corruption and went awol, laying low and even starting a family. After Palptaine's death at Endor, former Inquisitors and other Imperial Dark Jedi began running amok as warlords and independent raiders, prompting Douga to come out of hiding and hunt down his former contemporaries.

*I chose his name by combining Kamikaze Douga, the animation company that made The Duel, and the Heian period of Japan (794 to 1185), where the term ronin came from.

-Am and Karre's story is mostly the same, albeit toned down CONSIDERABLY. Here, their creation was overseen by Sebban Keto, a character from a roleplaying game who is descended from Aleema and Sataal Keto from the Tales of the Jedi comics. Sebban intended to revitalize the Krath cult with the twins at the head, but Karre's defection puts those plans on hold. Karre steadily grows into more of a true Jedi as he journeys on his own, while striving to save his sister from the dark path.

*Karre wields a dual-phase lightsaber with a unique gradient crystal. While obviously nowhere near as big as in the short (closer to Pong Krell's blades for reference), it still grows much longer and thicker, enabling a greatsword style of combat.

*Am initially only carried her two normal lightsabers, but installed the prosthetic arms and built the extra four after Karre went rogue.

-F, real name Ephalline Kinema (also taken from the name of the studio), is mostly intact for her story in the Village Bride. Specifically, her feet were maimed while escaping Order 66, forcing her and her master to take refuge for medical treatment. Her ridiculous high heels are actually prosthetics here. Ephalline was still recovering when Darth Vader tracked her master down, and she was forced to watch helplessly as he was cut down. Post-Village Bride, F wanders the galaxy to do good wherever she can, eventually leading her to Tao...

-Lop and Ocho's story is also unchanged. Several years later, Ocho has risen to be the Imperial magistrate of her homeworld, while Lop has fallen in with fellow Lepi smuggler Jaxxon T. Tumperakki to make ends meet. During one of their runs, they bump into F, who recognizes Lop's potential as a Jedi and offers to train her. This development, combined with Ocho's difficulties in arresting her sister (due in no small part to her conflicting loyalties), leads to the Empire sending an Inquisitor to "help out". Lop eventually completes her training, succedes in getting through to Ocho, and joins the New Jedi Order.

-Anni Kalfus and Julan Van Reeple enroll in a New Republic flight academy as teenagers before joining the fleet post graduation. Their rivalry continues into their service, even as they find themselves assigned to the same flight group. Thankfully, the demands of military service and the mentorship of General Thane Kyrell goes a long way towards improving their relationship. By the time of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, the two are genuine friends and lead their own squadron with distinction.

-Jay and T0-B1 both also exist around this time period, while the events of In the Stars, Bandits of Golak, The Spy Dancer, and The Pit happen during Imperial rule.

-The Elder takes place pre-Phantom Menace

-Daal and the Sith Mother are part of the Banite line.

-Sith and Journey to the Dark Head are during the New Sith Wars, and Aau's Song is shortly after the Battle of Ruusan.

-I'm debating on where The Ninth Jedi would go in the timeline, while Akakiri is an in-universe fable.

(microheroes based on templates and parts from my List of Sources)

#star wars #star wars au #star wars visions #the duel #star wars ronin #the twins #am #karre #the village bride #f #lop and ocho #lop #ocho #i am your mother #anni kalfus #julan van reeple #my pixels

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burnwater13 · 1 year

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Grogu wondered what it would take to talk his dad into letting him have a massiff or a barghest as a pet. He was sure that they would be great pet owners. How could they not be? Plus, after the time they spent on Tatooine, Grogu knew that Din Djarin liked massiffs. He’s scratched them and talked to them in a very kind manner. Grogu wanted to do that too.

He’d asked Peli Motto about getting a critter like that to accompany them on their adventures and she had snorted spotchka out of her nose. It was funny but Grogu tried hard not to laugh. Once she wiped her face, her shirt and the table in front on them she shared a few words of wisdom.

“Kid, you don’t want a smelly ol’ critter crammed into that little bitty starfighter with you. It’ll be worse than that time you forgot about the dung worms you saved after that banquet with the Daimyo. And… did ya think about that? A critter like a massiff will eat you out of house and home. Do ya really want that kind o’ competition?”

Grogu sighed. Peli was right. A massiff or a barghest would eat a lot. They’d never have left overs again. Which actually would have saved him from having to clean the insides of the N-1 with that tooth polisher his dad had handed him. Hmmm. That was a plus. They’d clean up his messes and as far as Grogu was concerned that was a huge plus for having a pet.

But he didn’t want to ask his dad about until he had a lightsaber proof argument for why they should add another member to their family. Peli had a point. The N-1 wasn’t really the best ship to use for vacations with a family pet.

When they were back on Nevarro, Grogu began to pepper Din Djarin with questions about the native species of Nevarro. Din finally told Grogu to go to the High Magistrate’s office and see if they had an official brochure or data tape or something explaining Nevarro’s flora and fauna. Grogu was only too happy to make that trip.

On the way to the High Magistrate’s office he bumped into IG-11-M and decided to ask the marshal what they knew about it.

“Greetings, Din Grogu. I will access my data storage to retrieve the information you have requested. One sec… Nevarro is home to a wide variety of native and invasive species…”

Ten minutes later, IG-11-M was still rattling off the list of insects that called the planet home, but hadn’t even gotten out of that part of the animal kingdom. Grogu didn’t know how to stop the droid from reciting the whole record of every critter so he just quietly walked away. Maybe someone else would be able to interrupt the droid…

He managed to make it to the High Magistrate’s office and the protocol droid there was a much bigger help. Yes, there were massiffs on Nevarro. No, the High Magistrate didn’t have any rules about owning, keeping, or caring for the creatures. Yes, they would fall under the general liability clause of ownership of a creature that could cause harm or damage if left un-supervised. Yippee! They could get a massiff as long as he took good care of the critter.

“Din Grogu, please recall that such creatures do require a license and a ten credit fee for the processing of such license if you intend to bring it into Nevarro city.”

Oh. Hmmm. Well, that wasn’t bad, right? He just needed the credits. He could earn ten credits doing chores right? Oh. Wait. The Mandalorian said chores built character, not equity, whatever that meant. He wondered if anyone in Nevarro city needed help? Something that Grogu could do that they valued. At least valued enough to give him ten credits.

He was pondering that when he walked back out to the main street and saw IG-11-M still standing there reciting facts about Nevarro. He wondered if he should just hit the droids re-set switch when he heard the Anzellan’s yelling that someone was leaving without paying their bill. He looked over and noticed the person trying to rush a way.

Grogu only had a split second to make a choice and he could only hope that he chose wisely. It happened so quickly, it was hard to say. He just used the Force a little to push IG-11-M into the path of the person trying to run away. The tiniest bit, really. He heard a crash, a bellow, and the sound of a certain marshal switching from the discussion of habitat for the lava flies to the placing a perpetrator of a crime under arrest. That made Grogu giggle. It just did.

In the end, IG-11-M was holding the person by the scruff of their shirt, the Anzellan’s were calling him ‘Good Baby’ and High Magistrate Greef Karga was handing him a ten credit bar and thanking him for capturing the person who was trying to cheat the droid-smiths.

Grogu was pretty happy with how that all turned out. Now he just needed to find a massiff and explain it all to his dad. Easy, peasy.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 year

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Gentile. | Chapter 17

It's time to go home.

Chapter list

Quintus’ notice is short and lacks any sort of kindness directed towards you. His words are clinical and do not even contain a word of desire to see you again.

“(Y/n), things have been dealt with for the most part. On the second day of the new month, the Cohortes will pick you up to bring you back to me. Hail Caesar. Quintus.”

A mixture of feelings swirls through you. Only a fortnight before you’ll have to face both the man you have been so desperately yearning for and the man you’ve been so desperately wanting to avoid for a little while longer. Your eyes go up to Joanna, who is working at her desk, and swallow thickly.

“Anything worth mentioning?” she asks, sounding like she thinks it is naught but a letter to fill you in on the most recent events back home.

“I’ll be leaving you soon.” you whisper. Your voice contains more emotion than you had anticipated - it wavers on your tongue with uncertainty, reflecting the sentiments of your soul. Joanna halts in her writing and locks eyes with you, her lips trembling a little before she answers.

“Oh.” she mutters, “I… What do you mean with soon ?”

“In about two weeks,” you clarify, something akin to sorrow creeping up on you. Even though you don’t particularly like the court and all other people within it, Joanna has grown to become one of the closest friends you’ve ever had.

Joanna nods slowly. “Right. Not to worry, we will of course stay in touch over correspondence.”

You have no doubts about that, but the thought of waking up next to the magistrate you call your husband again is not something you’re looking forward to. “I hope I can get used to the food again. But then, Capernaum’s fruits are wonderful. You should visit sometime.”

Your friend lets out a pleasant hum and nods. “I’ll definitely keep you to that. So, another fortnight before he picks you up again. Got anything in mind?”

Your cheeks grow hot. “Beg your pardon?”

Joanna grins. “For lover boy. Planning on dolling up?”

“Don’t call him that!” you huff, unable to fight your blush. “And I don’t know yet! I’ve only just found out and… Well, things around here have turned out differently than I had first expected. Some noteworthy news, to be exact.” You gesture towards your belly. This morning whilst putting on your tunic, you had pulled it tight around your hips to see if there was any progress. A more observable bump had appeared to you, but it could still be played off as gaining some extra weight around that area. Spending a few months at Herod’s court is a viable excuse for that.

“I’d love to properly meet the man who has been driving you crazy in the best ways possible.” Joanna hums, “That would give me a face to picture next to yours when a wedding invitation will eventually find its way to me.”

You let out a noise and chuck a cushion her way, which she catches with a loud laugh. “Ah, (Y/n), I’m only teasing! Or am I?” She raises her eyebrows and you click your tongue, rolling your eyes whilst a grin tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Stop that,” you sigh, “How I wish things could be like that.”

Joanna’s smile softens. “I know. I’m sorry. I hope you’ll find a way.”

You stand and stretch your arms, heading over to the woman’s side. “Do you happen to have some extra parchment for me?”

“Going to write back to him?” she queries, rummaging through a drawer before handing you a roll of paper as well as a pen and ink. You thank her and head back to the sofa you had been sitting on earlier, grabbing a book to use as a hard surface underneath.

“I suppose I’ll have to. Not sending anything back will cause suspicion.”

“And how about the Cohortes?”

You let out a small noise. “You’ve got more parchment?”

“I’ll have to order some. How’s three cubits sound?” Joanna is jesting, you’re aware, though you cannot help but reach for another small pillow, but she points at you warningly. “No, not now, I’ve got ink on my pen!”

“Excuses, excuses…” you laugh and toss it back onto the sofa. You turn to your letter to Quintus, starting with your usual greeting to him, one that matches his way of communication.

“ Dear Praetor Quintus, thank you for informing me of my upcoming departure. Hail Caesar, (Y/n).”

You stand and roll it up, heading over to Joanna to get another roll of parchment. “Done already?” she quizzes, but there is no malice in her voice.

“Hm, didn’t have a lot to say to him.”

She smiles a little and hands you another piece. “Well, that’s not exactly true. You have a lot to say to him, you just choose not to.”

“He’d have my head if I spoke my mind,” you say, “On a silver platter no less.”

Joanna clicks her tongue but smirks as you retreat once again.

You’ve got way less trouble directing a heartfelt letter towards Atticus.

“My love,” you write the greeting, for addressing him by his name is too risky in this case, “Per my last letter I already thanked you for your wonderful bundle of poems, however I feel the need to express my gratitude again, so thank you.

I have just received an announcement that I’ll be brought back home on the second day of the next month. I must be upfront and admit that I’ve been thinking about you almost every moment of the day and I hope that this sentiment is reciprocated. Of course, you’re allowed to tell me otherwise and I will not hold it against you, but it should be said and that you may approach me in a likewise way, provided we’re out of sight from unwanted eyes.

I’m certain that you’ve got so many stories to tell me about your work and whereabouts for the past months. Certainly, I do have a few tales of my own about people eating fire or dancing with snakes, but it will probably be nothing compared to what you’ve been through.

Please write back to me soon, for I’ve been longing to hear from you. If your letter fails to reach me in a timely manner, then we will see one another in a fortnight from now. I implore you to consider increased discretion for the reason that it may not end up in my hands. I’ll be anxiously awaiting the arrival of either correspondence or you yourself.

Secretly yours.”

The final two words have left your pen before you could even comprehend that you were writing them down, but there it sits, in black ink. For a few moments, you stare at it, but a soft hum from Joanna pulls you from your thoughts.

“It’s endearing to see.” she muses. “Truly.” You frown in question, which is her sign to clarify what she means, “The way you’re looking at that letter right now. Your entire body seems relaxed and comfortable. This is not just an ordinary affair, is it? I-I mean, I knew that already, but… This is so different from the heartless adultery I’ve witnessed throughout my time here.”

A pang of guilt momentarily shunts through your chest but it disappears just as quickly. “It is,” you whisper, “I’ve of course also seen my fair share of it back in Rome, but… This is unlike anything I’ve ever felt for any man. I have always been so lost when it comes to love and intimacy, but if this is what love is supposed to be, then I feel like I’ve… Well, like I want to take that risk.”

Joanna bites her bottom lip and grins. “I’m happy for you,” she says. “That you found a person who makes you feel that way. Even though you cannot be sure yet about how things will turn out, especially with your baby, I hope that you and he can find a way to make this work.”

Your cheeks are suddenly wet and you let out a small sob.

“Thank you, Jo. I’m going to miss you so much, my sweetest friend.”

You accept her embrace as she stands to approach you, and you sniffle against her shoulder for a minute before pulling back to look at her. She wipes her own face dry, emotion also taking the better of her. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me that before. That means a lot, so thank you, too, (Y/n).”

You hug one another for a while longer until Joanna clears her throat, taking a deep breath. “So, we should send out our letters and then see what we’ll do for the coming two weeks, hm? Perhaps another visit to the bathhouse would be nice? After all, you cannot really get a good massage back home… Unless you ask you-know-who …”

Despite your age, Joanna could be a real tease as if you two were still teenagers, and you can’t fight the shy giggle that builds in your lungs. “Oh, I wish. But yes, that does sound like a good plan.”

The pair of you quickly seal your letters and bring them away to get them sent out before heading over to the warm pools where you can make the most of your final two weeks at Machaerus’ court.

Some days fly by whereas others seem to crawl backwards, but one thing is certain and that is that time does always pass. On the second day of the new month, you open your eyes with a strange feeling inside your chest. You sadly haven’t received another letter from Atticus before today, but the fact that you’ll get to finally see him again cancels out the disappointment thereof tenfold.

Even though you had told Joanna the night before that you weren’t going to wear additional perfume nor line your eyes with kohl just because you were going to be reunited with Atticus, you put some extra effort into your appearance that is more subtle. It could raise suspicion if you left this place too decked out, for Capernaum was still a two-to-three-day trip back, depending on what time of day you’d be picked up.

Your heart rears at the idea of another two nights with the man you’ve longed for more than you’d ever dare to admit, especially since your pregnancy hormones have started making you more touch starved than ever in the past weeks. The man you’ll have to face after is something you’d rather not think about right now - you refuse to let the sheer idea of Quintus sour your currently elated mood.

It’s long before dawn but you’re finished packing already, anxious about at what time he’ll arrive. Joanna spends the early day with you, assisting you when morning sickness takes over your bubbly mood momentarily, until you’re finished heaving and take some time to gather yourself again. Your belongings have already been carried to the prepared wagon down in the courtyard, the same horse that had been witness to your affair about three months back already strung in front of it.

Bittersweetly smiling, Joanna tucks your hair into a braid as a final service she insisted on. She has done so much for you already, but the fact that you’re leaving seems to hurt her, too.

You turn to her after she binds the hairdo together expertly. “Thank you.” you whisper. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Me too,” she sighs, putting a hand on your shoulder, “To whom am I going to vent my thoughts about my work and my husband now?” She gives you a melancholic look. “And reading the correspondence between you and the Cohortes has been utterly amusing and delightful.”

You bite your bottom lip a bit abashed and stand to take another look around your room to see if you’ve forgotten anything. A small flask of oil is still left on your wash basin, but for the rest you’ve got everything – you’ve even thought about the snack you had promised Atticus, a small bag of sugar-coated almonds and a few honey-slathered pancakes wrapped into a thick layer to keep it from spilling.

You slip the oil into your pocket and sigh. “Having a bedroom all to myself was nice while it lasted.” Heading for the door, you look over your shoulder one last time before pulling it shut.

Joanna and you have decided beforehand to spend the rest of the day in the gardens to catch as much shade as you can. You enjoy some juice underneath the overhang whilst Joanna embroiders something onto her husband’s uniform. Even though she has spoken – and complained – about him plenty of times, you’ve only seen him once, and he was in a rush. Granted, you haven’t spent every single day with your friend, but you reckon that she must miss his presence despite his proximity.

You sip on your goblet whilst Joanna hums a tune you’re not familiar with. “Hey,” she suddenly stops her song to pipe up, “When do you think he’ll show up?”

“Soon, I assume.” you say, “Even though we’ll get to spend more time together if he’ll turn up late since that would increase the chances of remaining another night in the wilderness, but… That might be just me overthinking things.”

“Or… He’ll show up early because he can’t wait.” Joanna suggests with a wink. You hum pleasantly and shrug.

“We’ll see, I suppose—”

“Forgive me for my interruption, ma’am, but your escort is here.”

Joanna is proven right immediately as a servant interrupts the conversation. Your heart stutters and starts to hammer so rapidly that you’re certain you’ll faint.

“Thank you, tell him that I’ll be right over.” you say, attempting to not sound like you are going to explode, fighting the large grin that threatens to tug at the corners of your mouth. The servant gives a small bow and rushes off.

The Roman woman beside you can barely contain her excitement, tossing her embroidery onto the side table haphazardly and standing up to help you to your feet, even though you are still able to do practically everything with how far along you are.

“Behave, will you?” you laugh. Joanna hooks her arm inside yours and pulls you towards the courtyard, doing a quick check of your hair, your face, and—

“Teeth?” She taps your chin.

You give her an awkward grimace and she nods. “Okay, you are totally ready to see him.”

“That I am,” you breathe, trying to calm down your uneven breathing.

You enter the courtyard and it’s not difficult to seek him out. Atticus is standing with his back towards you, busy strapping in the other horse, yet you feel your knees grow weak at the sight. “There he is!” you whisper to Joanna, who squeezes your arm.

“Good to see you again, Cohortes.” you greet him, surprised at how confident your voice sounds.

He straightens his back and turns to you, wearing a wonderful smile. His hair is tousled. “My lady, good to see you both in such good health and safety.” The sound of his warm tone makes your gut swirl in a way that it hasn’t done in a long time. “How was your stay here at Machaerus?”

“It was utterly delectable, especially when looking at the circumstances back home. How has your work been?”

“Everything has been handled, my lady. I can see that you and your hostess have grown close.” You know that you’ve mentioned her in several letters to him, but Atticus’ shrewdness causes him to query about it as if it is the first time he’s heard of her. The sight of his dark eyes that you’ve dreamt about so often takes your breath away.

“This is Joanna,” you introduce her, “She has taken good care of me these past months.”

They give one another a respectable bow of the head and smile.

“On behalf of the Praetor of Capernaum, I thank you for your assistance.”

“You are most welcome.”

Atticus clears his throat and looks at you. “My lady, I do not mean to rush you in any way, but we should leave lest our trip back take too long.”

“If you can please give me a moment with my friend, so that I can say goodbye to her?”

“Certainly, my lady. I will inspect the wagon in the meantime.”

Joanna pulls you out of earshot and wraps you in her arms immediately, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Oh, (Y/n), that man is just wonderful . My, the way he looks at you makes even me shy! Keep me informed about how everything goes… Also for the sake of your safety.”

You nod and embrace her tightly, feeling sorrow tug at your heart. “Thank you for everything, Joanna. Frequenting your room has made my stay bearable. I’m sure I would have drowned in my own misery otherwise.”

Tears shiver on the brims of her eyes and she sniffs. “I’ll miss you, but we will write to one another, okay? And-And we’ll see each other again, of that I am certain.”

You nod, fighting the urge to cry. It is of no use and hot tears soon streak down your cheeks. Joanna thumbs them away and the pair of you laugh. “Now, don’t let me keep the two of you apart for any longer. I can see in your body language that you’re aching to be close to him again.” Her knowing smirk makes you flush.

Heading back to the wagon, Atticus has already taken the driver’s seat, and he gives you a warm look that may just be excused as friendly. Joanna helps you climb into the back. She squeezes your hand and you have meaningful eye-contact for a few moments.

“Keep her safe.” you hear her tell Atticus once she disappears from your field of view. You turn to see her through the gaps in the sides of the cart and fight your tears. Atticus clicks his tongue and the wagon jerks forward, driving that same road you entered through.

Joanna stares at you, slowly growing smaller. You shift to the end to wave at her, and she smiles. The two of you maintain that connection until the gates of the palace fall shut.

For a second, you feel immense grief, and a few Roman soldiers on horses find the four corners of the cart again to escort you downhill to the main road. You take a moment to gather yourself and approach Atticus, whose presence you’ve so yearned for.

He says no word, but gives you a discreet smile through the opening at the front by looking down. You touch his back, the Cohortes unable to bite back his grin. It is almost a warning. He leans a hand onto the seat so that you can reach for it, pretending he needs to adjust his position, and your entire body tingles at the contact.

“Thank you for your assistance. You’re all dismissed.” Atticus’ voice almost resonates through you and you involuntarily shiver, crawling impossibly closer to him. Withdrawing your hand, you listen to him greet the soldiers one final time. “Hail Caesar.”

Their horses kick up dust as they head back up the mountain towards the fortress, and you exhale in relief. The Cohortes waits for a while longer, leads the wagon around the bend. Down the dusty trail. In between some trees. He does not break the silence. The side of his face is unreadable.

You’re growing restless.

The tension between the two of you is tangible and you’re suddenly certain that he knows - he knows - he knows . He saw your slightly swollen stomach, realised and now rejects you, loathes you, becomes aware of how much of an unfaithful whore you must be - your eyes sting as your blood starts rushing in your ears. It takes everything in your body to open your mouth to speak up.

“Atticus, I—”

The wagon comes to a full stop immediately. His jaw clenches and unclenches, his fingers tightening on the reins. He hops off the cart, your heart skipping several beats as he legs to the back to climb in with you, trapping you between his form and the rest of the world. His cloak swishes as he slightly haunches over, for he cannot stand up straight.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?”

Your chest tightens. “I-I-I didn’t mean to—”

“No, listen. I am sent off to Joppa, Caesarea, all throughout Judea to seek out intelligence regarding the Zealots. A matter of life and death, truly. Even Rome picked up on it and started to nag me about it. So much work to do in so little time… And all the time, I cannot concentrate, because all I can think about is you .”

You let out a shaky breath at the slight relief washing over you, but you’re still confused. Atticus leans closer. “All I can think of are those beautiful (e/c) eyes of yours and the delicious way you smelled when we laid together. You plague my nights with images of your wonderful smile and the sounds you made for me. Being apart from you has been… It has been such a terrible ordeal.”

All doubts melt away as the most charming of grins spreads over his face. You huff a laugh and he opens his arms. You launch yourself into his embrace, a grunt leaving him. He chuckles, wrapping his familiar arms around your form, holding you close.

“I’ve missed you so much.” you confess, happy tears soaked up by his tunic, “Oh, Atticus, you were constantly on my mind. I was so afraid that something would happen to you.”

A soft kiss is planted against the top of your head and you have the sudden urge to press your lips to his, but you resist the temptation for a while longer so that you can stare at each other, basking in one another’s presence.

“I’m not so easily killed, (Y/n).” Atticus hums, “But I’m sorry that you felt that way. Oh, by the gods, you are so beautiful.”

Your lips tremble as you smile. “And you’ve been growing out your hair and beard a little… It looks good on you.”

“Mhm…” he acknowledges as your fingers scrape across his chin and jaw, “My hair needs a little trim, but my beard… Want to know how it feels?”

Your face flames at the ambiguous insinuation and he heartily chuckles. “How much I’ve yearned to lay with you again, my Flower, I think we must keep this short and sweet. After all, we’re still quite close to the fortress and we’re out in the open.”

A promise, then. Your heart flutters and you allow him to collide his lips against yours, a soft inhale through your nose at the contact. Closing your eyes immediately, you fist his cloak, grasping onto him as if he would slip through your fingers. Atticus kisses you with a hunger you haven’t ever experienced before and lets out a groan that sets your core alight. You breathe through one another, starving for a shred of each other’s presence.

He pulls away with a sharp gasp and bites his bottom lip instantly. “Regrettably, that will be all for now, my love. If we go any further, I won’t be able to remain a gentleman. We need to ride a little further and set up camp first.”

“What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?” you dare to flirt, breathless. It rewards you with a delicious laugh.

“Come sit next to me, (Y/n).” he whispers.

He needn’t ask twice. You crawl out of the wagon with him and let him help you onto the driver’s seat. The investigator sits next to you and makes the horses continue their trek down the road, a few pleasant moments passing between you two.

“I’ve smuggled some food out of there,” you tell him, “To enjoy next to the fire tonight.”

He hums and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing it softly. “You’re a doll. I am certain that we will enjoy many more things tonight.”

With crimson cheeks, you lean your head against his shoulder, the heat of his fingers seeping through your clothes, until he reaches down to slip them underneath your tunic.

Next chapter Chapter list

#the chosen x reader #reader insert #x reader #the chosen #angel studios #the chosen atticus #atticus x you #atticus x reader #atticus aemilius pulcher #atticus

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endlessthoughtsofafangirl · 2 years

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"Actually, she is my master's daughter. She has lost her mind. My master ordered me to go look for her, and fortunately, I was able to find her here. This envoy bumped into us earlier and just pulled her over here to testify about something. He even told you that he's her younger brother. That's complete nonsense. County Magistrate, for the sake of my master's face, please do not punish her. I will take her away immediately."

#少年大钦差 #the young imperial envoy #cdramanet #cdrama #jin dong #tong tong #my gifs #my edit #靳东 #佟童 #真·公主抱，哈哈哈哈哈 #dude at this part 弹幕炸了 #我磕徐安和十公主~#为了十公主，徐安操碎了心

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whats-in-a-sentence · 4 months

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Martin Hetzer, whose run Uhr cleared of blacks early in 1868, bumped into D'arcy in Townsville and wrote in disbelief to Scarr:

Mr Uhr seemed to take great credit to himself for being the cause of these dismissals. I have known Mr Uhr ever since he has been in the Burke district, and have had a most favourable opinion of him as an energetic Police Officer, but since his dismissal from the N. P. force he has forfeited the good opinion of every rightminded person in the district. It seems impossible that he, who has been convicted of larceny and . . . who generally bears such a bad character, should be able to grind such influence to bear as to cause the dismissal of two Magistrates from the bench, for a slight error (if there is one).

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

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crimechannels · 7 months

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By • Olalekan Fagbade Police release Naira Marley, one other person from its custody over Mohbad’s death Police in Lagos State released musician and label owner, Azeez Fashola, (Naira Marley) and Samson Balogun (Sam Larry) from custody on Friday after meeting their bail conditions. The duo had been in police custody over October’s mysterious death of rapper, musician and song writer, Ilerioluwa Aloba (Mohbad). Police spokesman in Lagos State, SP Benjamin Hundeyin, confirmed their release in a statement he issued on Friday at Ikeja. Naira Marley, Sam Larry and two others were arraigned before a Yaba Magistrate’s Court on Oct. 6, over their alleged involvement in the death of Mohbad and were remanded in police custody. The court granted them bail on Nov. 6 in the sum of N20 million with three responsible sureties in like sum. The magistrate, Mr Adeola Olatunbosun, ruled that the defendants should submit their passports and report weekly to the State’s Criminal Investigation Department at Panti, Yaba. “Naira Marley and Sammy Larry, having met their bail conditions, have been released from custody,’’ Hundeyin stated. Born in Lagos on Jan. 3, 1996, Mohbad died in mysterious circumstances on Sept. 12, 2023 and was buried the following day. His death sparked nationwide protests making the Lagos State government to order the exhumation of the body for a coroner’s inquest. Mohbad was said to have attended a concert at Ikorodu, Lagos State on Sept.10 where he sustained injuries in a fracas. Among those the police questioned over his death were the late singer’s father, mother, sisters, brother, friends, wife and manager. The police also invited a childhood friend of Mohbad, Ibrahim Owodunni (Primeboy) for questioning. Police detained Naira Marley and Sam Larry over their alleged roles in the singer’s death as they were reported to have been bullying the rapper. Mohbad was formerly signed to Naira Marley’s Marlian Records, but left the label in 2022. Addressing a news conference in Ikeja on Oct. 5 on preliminary findings on Mohbad’s death, Commissioner of Police in Lagos State, Mr Idowu Owohunwa, named an auxiliary nurse, Feyisayo Ogedengbe, as the prime suspect. Ogedengbe was reported to have injected the deceased thrice in his home on Sept. 12 before he started vomiting and developing goose bumps. Owohunwa said 26 persons had been interviewed concerning Mohbad’s death. According to Owohunwa, Mohbad was taken to the hospital lifeless and was declared dead on Sept. 12 by the attending physicians. He said the auxiliary nurse was called to inject the singer at his home by Mohbad’s friend, Ayobami Isiaka, aka “Spending’’. Ogedengbe gave the singer three injections that were believed to have resulted in a series of events that led to his death, the police commissioner said. He said that Primeboy and Mohbad went to the concert together on Sept. 10 and they engaged in violent altercation after the show. The ensuing fight from the altercation caused harm to the late singer. “The management of the injury subsequently resulted in his death,” Owohunwa said. (NAN)

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rockymountainqueen2 · 2 months

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From The Owl House pitch bible - https://web.archive.org/web/20240425221922/https://litter.catbox.moe/581x55.pdf

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letsriddlemethislucifer · 8 months

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--- "That's it, just like that." A tender voice came to the subject's senses. Infront of them was one of the head researchers within this empty space. It was closed off deep within the center of the mage tower. The stone walls were closed off around them, along with a dome barrier taking over such a vast space.

Alexandria, a beautiful woman with long red locks and fair features, was within the dome along with this subject. Her tone was loving and nurturing, her hands placed upon her lap as she sat on the floor and watched.

Light danced around the place, along with small swirling masses. All controlled, of course, by the experiment. All stable, due to the formulas written all over their body and upon the ground by the other head researchers.

Sorcerers, witches, and mages alike, all wearing masks and watching from outside the dome. Their concentrations never wavering from the session taking place.

Those eyes, obedient and curious, moved down to the woman's stomach. It was quite round, and she seemed to rub it with such care.

"Do you want to feel it?"

She asked, noticing the break of their concentration. The point of view, lower than hers, bobbed up and down in confirmation. Black inked fingers, small and stubby, would reach out, wishing to learn what that bump was.

Yet, when they came close, it was swatted away with strong vigor. Enough to feel vibrations in those tainted hands.

The woman was on her feet now, trying to put herself between the subject and the other researchers with her.

One, her fiance, crass and angered at the idea that she would allow such a thing to risk her safety.

The other, her brother, a top magistrate of the upper council within this tower.

Their arguments would grow louder and louder, and the ringing in the subjects head would become stronger each time. It took for Alexandria to start feeling sic and nearly collapse for the test subject to be slammed to the ground and knocked unconscious; their abilities losing grip within the dome and dispersing.

This was one of many occurrences, and the security against them would only grow tighter and tighter for the next sessions.

The woman would be distraught, and knew within her heart that this path would be the wrong one for this tower to take.

But she had no power in stopping it.

This memoir, one of many, stuck in time for thousands of years. The travesty after, and predecessors long down the line, have yet to be aware of this truth. Of this place.

Hidden, yet not lost.

Soon. Yes perhaps soon. May the key necessary for this truth return to its rightful place.

#[[ Story drabble -> A kingdom lost ch 1]]

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ailtrahq · 8 months

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The ongoing lawsuit between Ripple and the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) sees a crucial development as both parties gear up for a significant pretrial conference scheduled for April 16, 2024, at 02:00 p.m. This directive follows US District Judge Analisa Torres’ recent refusal of the SEC’s request for an interlocutory appeal, further bolstering Ripple’s position in this legal tussle.The anticipation within the 75,000-strong XRP community is palpable as the date for the final pretrial conference nears. Both parties and their respective legal representatives must meet in person for at least one hour to explore settlement possibilities before this conference. This aligns with earlier guidance from Magistrate Sarah Netburn, who oversees the pretrial proceedings of SEC v. Ripple.While this step towards a potential settlement is a ray of hope, the road to resolution has seen its share of bumps. Previous settlement discussions failed to bring a resolution, underscoring this legal battle’s complexity and high stakes. However, Ripple’s willingness to settle provided regulatory clarity for XRP and the court’s classification of XRP as a non-security suggests a positive outlook.Despite the optimism, the XRP community remains cautiously hopeful, aware of the earlier settlement attempts that didn’t materialize into a resolution. The pretrial conference is seen as a pivotal moment in this protracted legal drama, with potential implications for Ripple and XRP and the broader cryptocurrency landscape.With the court’s recent decisions leaning toward Ripple and the pressure mounting on the SEC, the April 2024 pretrial conference is marked in bold on every XRP enthusiast’s calendar.!function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window,document,'script', ' fbq('init', '887971145773722'); fbq('track', 'PageView');

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 6 years

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‘Vag’s’ Holding Is Protested,” Windsor Star. October 6, 1938. Page 10. --- Magistrate Has Comment in Case of Richard Childs ---- CHATHAM. Oct. 6. - "Something will have to be done, this man can't be locked up for ever." commented Magistrate S. B. Arnold in court here today when Richard Childs. 38. of 318 King street west, appeared for further remand until October 12 on a vagrancy charge.

Childs is material witness in an assault robbery case against three men. and has been held in jail as such since August 23. The trio, including Fred Jones. 24. of Windsor: Garnet Neil. 28. of 131 Colborne street, and Oliver Bump. 29. of 11 Jeffrey street, were brought before Judge Uriah McFadden this morning and remanded for trial until next Thursday afternoon.

It is alleged that the three ganged up on Childs on the bank of the Thames River, in Tecumseh Park, and robbed him of $9.

Childs asked that he be released on his own bail this morning so that he might find employment but. Acting Crown Attorney A. Douglas Bell explained to the magistrate that the man was more or less of a transient and might be difficult to find at time of the trial.

"We're trying to get this thing through as soon as possible but naturally its important that we have Childs when we want him," Mr. Bell observed.

#chatham #material witness #criminalizing vagrancy #remand prisoner #eyewitness testimony #assault and robbery #beaten up #thames river #great depression in canada #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

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burnwater13 · 6 months

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Picture from The Mandalorian A Day Calendar, 2023

Nevarro was home now and the Imp base was gone and High Magistrate Greef Karga was working hard to make that planet worthy of being called ‘home’. Grogu was mostly happy about that. He liked having a home and he knew, through bitter personal experience that there were many worse places to have to call ‘home’.

As much as he sometimes missed the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, he didn’t miss that the ancient Jedi who took that space over from the Sith hadn’t understood that Jedi younglings and padawan came from all species and therefore in all sizes and capability levels. They had clearly been very biased toward humans and humanoid life forms. If you were at least a meter and a half tall, and no wider than you were tall, the Temple was pretty user friendly. If you varied from that in any significant way, well, it wasn’t all it cracked up to be.

He also missed the standard decking used in starships. No gaps, no bumps, no sand, and especially no rocks. Most of the planets he’d visited had rough footing at best and a lot of hidden hazards routinely. Again, if you were a human or had a biology that made footwear useful, no problem. But if you were Grogu, either the bottom of your coverall got torn and tattered routinely or you stubbed your toes, burned the soles of your feet, or just felt like you were walking on sand paper all the time. It was awful.

But nice flooring was almost the only thing Grogu missed about starships. Everything else about them was, once again, set up for someone a lot taller than him. Sensors used to open doors were set at a default that kept most stowaway critters out. That meant that he often had to jump up and wave his arms to get the door to open. If he tried to ride a MSE repair mech around, their sensors couldn’t trip the door sensors and they were just as stuck as before.

And don’t get him started on their privies. They were a nightmare and that’s all he was prepared to say about it. He might be small, but heck, didn’t people look where they were aiming? Or even check to see if the privy was in use before using it themselves? He would have liked to pretend that was just a problem with Imps, but he knew better than that.

So, despite the view you got from the canopy of the N-1, no starship was every really going to be home.

Grogu could say that he missed something from the ice ball Maldo Kreis but that would be a lie. He didn’t miss the cold. Or the hot spring. Or the gigantic spiders. Along with all the crabbiness from his dad, the Mandalorian, Grogu could only think of one thing he sorta kinda missed. Those frog eggs had been delicious, but he’d been told to stop bringing that up and no they would not go to Trask to see if they could get any more of them.

Which brought him to the only thing he had even liked about Trask. He liked the Frog Lady and her family. They were nice. They understood how hard it was to be on the wrong planet and that finding a home was tricky for a lot of people, themselves included. But that was it. Most of the people on Trask had fallen into a few categories as far as Grogu could tell.

First there were the fishermen who would sell their own mothers for bait. Then there were the dockworkers who pretended that they knew anything about starship repairs. Finally, there were Mandalorians. Really, that was it. His Mandalorian was special. Those other Mandalorians… not so much. No way to set up home there if you get a reputation for stealing Imperial freighters because some Mando wants to be Mand’alor again. Ask her why she wasn’t Mand’alor and see if that had really been a mistake or just the appropriate outcome to a chain of events that she had started. Or don’t. He didn’t need you to agree with him about that. His dad didn’t.

That had been pretty clear when the next place then ended up was Corvus. Uff. The only thing he had liked about Corvus was leaving. That had been very satisfying. Way more satisfying that leaving the next place they went. Tython.

Ahsoka Tano hadn’t explained how draining it would be to use the temple there and ask the galaxy to throw a Jedi his way. By the time they all realized it was a mistake to even try to split up a dream team like Grogu and Din Djarin, well… it was too Dank Farrik late. The only thing good about Tython was the Mandalorian meeting Boba Fett and finding out that Fennec Shand was still alive.

Of course, none of that had happened to Grogu on Tython, so he still didn’t like the place. He’d been stolen, kidnapped, whatever’d by a bunch of stinking battle droids. How did anyone, at all, anywhere have access to battle droids? What the heck was the New Republic doing? Arguing about the type of privies they should install on Chandrila?

Any way, Grogu finally ended up going with R2-D2 to Ossus and it was pretty nice. More or less. The food wasn’t great, but there were frogs at least. No Imps were there. No bounty hunting guilds. No pirates. No actual civilization. Not even any buildings. It was green. That was nice. Grogu blended in well. That was a plus. But Master Luke was all about the work, work, work and not at all about play even just a tiny, little bit. And, while Grogu wasn’t one to hold a grudge, he was still pretty annoyed with the Ahsoka Tano for not letting him see the Mandalorian when he made the trip out there to check on Grogu. That had been a mistake. Which Luke had compounded by giving Grogu a ‘choice’. A lightsaber was not a person. It didn’t feel anything. It didn’t care. It didn’t cry.

So, instead of staying on Tatooine, which Grogu loved because of Peli and Boba and Fennec, and Ranky, and Marshal Vanth, and the flavor of krayt dragon steaks, they were on Nevarro. It was their base of operations and maybe, one day, when hunting down the Imp remnants was done, and no one had a bounty fob for either one of them, he and his dad could just relax and play a game of spill the pins or hatchet, or count the frogs. Then they could build some wonderful memories together and that’s really one of the things that turned a base into a home.

From The Mandalorian, Season 3, Episode 8, The Return

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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